#but this was not a song I was expecting to get in my recent releases playlist | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hannieehaee · 5 months

Text

NO SONG WITHOUT YOU

18+ / mdi

summary: with zero experience or interest in the romantic aspect of his life, jihoon finds himself in an unexpected situation when his company decides on a collab between the two of you, not expecting the work-addicted producer to develop a bit of a crush on you.

content: idol!jihoon x idol!reader, afab reader, pining, jihoon's emotionally constipated, jihoon's pov, kinda inexperienced jihoon, smut, dry humping, oral (m receiving), penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 12.6k

a/n: this is probably my fave fic i've written so far!! love writing for jihoon aaaa anyways i hope u guys enjoy <3

masterlist

Jihoon was tired.

Beyond tired, actually. He couldn't remember the last time he'd left his studio at a reasonable time. He knew people on twitter made jokes about him being a bit of a hermit, with fans being able to spot his studio from outside the building, lights always on and indicating the producer was still inside.

He didn't have much of a valid excuse for this, other than being a 'workaholic', or at least that's the term Joshua had recently introduced him to, describing him as the prime example. Jihoon just couldn't help himself. He'd been like this ever since he could remember. If he had an idea, he had to work on it. And unfortunately for him, he was always full of new ideas. If Seventeen was releasing an album, that meant Jihoon already had enough material to fill up the next three albums backed up in a file somewhere in his computer.

Despite always having music prepared months in advance, - even having solo music up for grabs for whichever member desired it - he still found himself constantly working. It's not like anyone demanded this out of him either. It was quite the opposite, actually. From staff, to other producers, to members and even family, everyone always insisted that he took a break, maybe leave producing aside for a month or two. This was inconceivable to him, it was something that was simply out of his comfort zone.

The truth was, Jihoon felt lost. Any time he strayed away from work in some way or other, he didn't know what to do with himself. He felt like a failure in many other aspects of his life. Granted, he was a successful idol and producer, talented in every area necessary in his field, but past that, what did he really have to offer? He'd been stuck in a rut for a few years now. He had his members, his family, maybe some staff, but his social life didn't go much past that. He didn't have many hobbies outside of work either. Sure, he was avid when exercising, even being an overachiever in that area, but that was also kind of part of his job. He knew he needed to step out of his comfort zone at some point and live his life, but he kept making excuses for himself. He was 26 now, and was, quite frankly, beginning to lose hope in certain areas of his life due to his career, - although blaming his career was just an excuse, really - the romantic aspect of his life being one of them.

Jihoon had some experience, okay? It wasn't like he'd never liked a girl before. He'd had a few crushes in elementary, maybe even some up until high school. He'd kissed one of the female trainees back when Pledis was a smaller company (okay, it might've been on a dare, but to Jihoon it counted). A few years after debuting he'd even gone on a few dates with a former staff member from his company. He'd lost his virginity to that same girl, kind of rushing into it due to feeling pressured to just get it over with - something he didn't exactly regret, but wished had been more of a memorable moment. The point was, Jihoon had had a few romantic experiences in his past 26 years on this earth. But, he hadn't ever even gotten close to find that one great love he'd hoped he one day would. For someone who received constant accolades for his lyricism, he was never really able to relate to his own music. He'd never been heartbroken, never had an insane need for someone, never felt romantic love, never been in the throes of passion with a beautiful girl, even. It was all his imagination. His lyrics, that is. And maybe the rest, if he was being honest. He'd dreamt about it lately; the perfect girl who he'd find and sweep off her feet. But that was all it was, a dream.

So, Jihoon was tired. Tired of hauling himself up in his studio to make himself feel something. But that was where he now found himself; stuck and in a rut, hoping for something more.

He was once again in his studio, working on god knows what at this point. He had just finished a quick welive with carats, feeling like he'd accomplished his quota of socialization for the day (I mean, even if it was a one-way conversation, it still counted, right?) and decided to get to work on one of the many unfinished drafts in his hard drive. This was kind of routine by now. He would either get a quick meal with one of the members during their break from rehearsals, or would go back to his studio for a bit to work on music. This would've been fine and dandy if it wasn't for the fact that Jihoon would eventually have ended up right back at his stuido either way. It was the illusion of choice, truly.

He spent a few hours in there, messing around with his guitar and even working on some guides for the members to follow next time they had some time to stop by the Universe Factory. Today felt like a productive day for Jihoon. Granted, he did this literally every single day, but he hadn't felt stuck at any point today. Maybe he was on a lucky streak. He decided to cut the day short there, not wanting to ruin what had been arguably an uninterrupted day of working on music. However, his separation from his studio did not last long, as he received a call from his manager just as he was locking the door behind him. He picked up without much thought.

"What's up?"

"Hey? Jihoon-ah, are you still in the studio by any chance?", Jihoon almost vocalized his amusement at the question. Where else would he be?

"I was just locking up, but yeah, I'm here."

"Good! Stay right there! Gonna head up to talk to you for a bit," and with that he hung up, not leaving Jihoon any chance to respond.

Jihoon and his manager were quite close. This was the case with most idols and their managers, having to spend so much time together. Still, Jihoon found the interaction to be a bit odd. Usually his manager would be one of the many people to insist that Jihoon get his ass out of his studio every once in a while. He didn't mind his request, though, so he quickly reopened the door and sat himself back down on his chair, deciding to mess with a few things as he waited for his manager's arrival.

It took his manager about ten minutes to arrive, Hybe was quite a big building, after all. He knocked on his door, not knowing the access code to Jihoon's studio. The only people who knew his key code were Jihoon himself, and Soonyoung (who had learned it without Jihoon's knowledge, but he was too lazy to change it by now). He got up to open the door, simply expecting another one of his manager's short overviews of Jihoon's schedule for the week, which might've been correct, except that when he opened the door he was met with his manager accompanied by an unfamiliar face.

It was you. Jihoon didn't know exactly who you were, but you carried a familiar air to you. He hadn't really been interacting with many people as of late, so maybe you were just someone he'd seen in passing, he wasn't too sure. You and his manager walked in upon Jihoon's gesture to please come in, moving aside as to not be in your way. He closed the door behind you, accidentally closing the distance between the two of you for a second and becoming a bit flustered at the proximity. He wasn't sure why his manager would bring someone unknown into his studio, but if Jihoon was anything, he was a relaxed guy (or at least he tried to seem like it), so he just sat back down without making any questions, his manager would probably fill him in any moment now anyways.

"Okay, so this is Y/N! You've probably met before, right?"

Uh, not right. And now a little awkward. Was he supposed to lie?

"Oh! No, we haven't, actually. I know a few of his members, though, but this is our first time officially meeting," you spoke up for the first time. So you were friends with his members? That might be how he knew you. That didn't really narrow it down much, though. There were 12 of them, and Seungkwan alone was friends with practically the entire industry.

"Oh? My bad. Well, then I should introduce you, right? Jihoon, this is Y/N! Her group was just recently acquired by Hybe. They moved into the building just over a month ago, if I'm not mistaken," He turned to you as you nodded in affirmation before proceeding, "Y/N, this is Jihoon, producer and partial leader of Seventeen."

He wasn't too sure why he was introducing the two of you. If he got personally introduced to every group Hybe acquired in the past year, he'd probably be here all day. He'd stopped keeping track of who and which groups were now roaming the hallways, being too many for him to count. He wasn't complaining or anything, he was just confused as to why go out of his way.

"Woozi-nim. It's so nice to meet you! I've always been such a huge fan. Your work is .. it's insane. I've looked forward to meeting you for so long," the enthusiasm with which you said this made his lip quirk up a little. Sure, he received accolades on his work every day, but knowing that fellow juniors of his looked up to him always brought a smile to his face, although it still made him a little sheepish at receiving such a forward compliment.

"Oh, I- Thank you. And you can call me Jihoon. It's nice to meet you, too," he smiled shyly at you, not really knowing what to say past that. He felt a bit shy looking at you for some reason, as if he couldn't hold eye contact for too long or he'd burn.

He looked expectantly over at his manager, the instigator of this interaction.

"Oh! Right. Well, as I just said, Y/N's group just moved into the company. And the company's been pushing for some collaborations as of late, you know, in order to maximize all groups within Hybe all at once," Jihoon could kind of see where his manager was going with this, "So, I've brought Y/N along with me since you two will be working together for a feature."

Hold on. Rewind.

"Us? As in just us two?"

"Yeah. Hybe is dividing you guys into subdivisions. Mingyu will be collaborating with someone in BTS a few months from now, and Chan will be with Yeonjun from TXT. I think Seokmin is scheduled with a member of Lesserafim. Not too sure yet, but you're up first. I sent you an email about it a few days ago with the general idea. Did you not get it?"

Oh, right. Jihoon was always quite diligent about his work, but his work mostly entailed Seventeen only. Checking his email wasn't much of a habit of his when he could just call up the few producers that worked for Seventeen whenever he needed to. Collaborations and producer work for other people were not that common to him, so for the most part he would disregard anything that didn't entail his own group.

"Oh, I, uh. No, sorry," he felt slightly bad at having disregarded the person standing in front of him, specially when you had regarded him such such respect. He was giving off a terrible first impression.

"That's fine. Now you know. Well, just wanted to take advantage that you were here today - Hah, well, when aren't you here?", chuckled his manager before continuing, "Just wanted to introduce you just in case. Check the email I sent you when you can, I'll send you over more details of your schedule related to the feature first thing tomorrow, yeah? Y/N here is the main producer for her group too, so you'll be co-producing."

You produced? He didn't mean to sound like an asshole, but there were just so many groups who didn't make their own music. He could sometimes get a bit of an ego over knowing he was an anomaly in his industry, always having taken pivotal part in a good 90% of his group's discography. Still, he wasn't too happy about the concept of having to share the creative process with a producer he had never heard of, if he was quite honest. For the most part he would only work with Bumzu and a few other Hybe producers here and there. He didn't even know your group or the music you were credited for. Hell, he had only found out about this project two minutes ago, having had no voice in the matter. One of the down sides of joining such a huge company that fathered way too many groups at once, he guessed.

He decided to not show his slight discomfort towards the idea, simply offering a polite response before bidding his goodbyes to the two of you. You had stayed behind for a few extra seconds after his manager exited the room, once more voicing your admiration for Jihoon and letting him know you were looking forward to working together. Jihoon had to admit that your praise did something to him. He didn't mean to sound like a total loser when he said this, but he did not interact with girls too much. So receiving such direct praise on his music from a pretty girl who also happened to share a passion with him had his ears turning red. He quickly shook his head at the thought, deciding to just stay at the studio overnight once more and maybe finally go over the email his manager had sent him.

He had to admit, he was quite impressed. Shortly after your arrival he had decided to research you and your group. You were quite well known by then, having debuted the same year as Seventeen and now being one of the top girl groups in the game. Just like Jihoon, you were from a small company and had climbed your way up, eventually being acquired by Hybe just a few months prior. Your stories were quite similar, if he really thought about it. You had also taught yourself how to produce before debuting, taking on the official role of main producer upon making your debut.

He had found out an embarrassing amount of information about you very quickly. He couldn't help himself. He was immediately intrigued by you, even going as far as looking at online forums about you; places that would detail information about you that only a true fanatic would know. He was now privy to trivial information such as your birth year (one year after his), your favorite color (pink), how many moles you had (seven, total), when you joined your company (exactly two months before he joined pledis), your most popular fancam (the one were you wore that pretty purple top), and just general information he'd be embarrassed to relay he now had memorized. He could call himself a bit ... infatuated. He felt beyond creepy, despite all this being public information. He had just met you, why had he just spent the past three hours binging content about you?

Jihoon decided to shrug these thoughts away, instead opting to mentally prepare himself for tomorrow morning, which was apparently the first day in which you'd be meeting to talk over your future schedules together for the next month or so. He had finally checked the multiple emails his manager had sent him about the collaboration, realizing that he'd now have to spend most of his non-Seventeen allocated time with you.

From photoshoots for promo, to the actual producing of the song, the empty slots in his schedules seemed to have filled up on their own, now being occupied by your company, and much to his surprise, he was not annoyed at this sudden intrusion. He felt a weird feeling in his stomach, but it wasn't like the usual nerves he felt before going on an important stage, nor the grumbling he felt whenever he met an idol of his. He felt ... giddy? He was looking forward to it. He felt nervous to see you again, which was really strange considering that he felt completely normal upon meeting you just now. Yeah, you were very pretty (he had eyes, this was just a fact he couldn't deny), but he hadn't had much of a reaction to it. However, now, as he looked at pictures of you on his computer, he couldn't imagine holding eye contact again. He was going mad.

Tomorrow arrived sooner than he thought. Now he was now sitting in his studio, awaiting your arrival. He had impulsively tidied up the place, now embarrassed that you'd seen it a mess the day prior. He also tidied himself up. As he recalled, you were wearing a pretty dress yesterday, so he felt bad you'd caught him in sweats and a three-day-old shirt. He wasn't sure why he wanted to impress you, but he did. Jihoon had the hope of at least befriending you, now having formed some type of interest towards you.

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door, making his heart accelerate at the thought of who was on the other side of it. Upon unlocking it, he found you on the other side, smile on your face as you carried in some bowls of .. his favorite meal? into his studio.

"Hi, Woozi-nim! I brought you food, is that's okay? I asked Seungkwan what you liked," oh, so it was Kwannie you were friends with. That made sense. It was touching that you'd gone out of your way to get him something you knew he'd like. Now he felt bad at being empty handed in his own studio.

"Oh, I- Thank you. You didn't have to do that."

"It's no problem! Wanted to thank you for doing this. I know you don't do collaborations that often. Felt kinda bad about imposing," by now the two of you had sat down in front of his desk, chairs slightly too close for comfort as you unwrapped the food in the bags you'd brought in.

"You-you're not. Sorry if I made it seem that way yesterday, hah, I was just caught off guard."

Jesus Christ, he felt so awkward. Your close proximity had him at a loss. He didn't know where to look or what to say. Your perfume was also not helping matters. The pretty scent had him extremely distracted, his mind suddenly being flooded with the thought that, shit, everything about you was pretty. What was wrong with him? Was this his first time interacting with a woman? He had never felt more out of place, except that despite any improper feelings he felt, he still wanted to be in your vicinity.

"-Woozi-nim?"

Shit, had you been talking this whole time?

"Oh, I'm sorry. What were you saying?"

You chuckled at him, clearly not taking offense to his distracted nature, "I was just asking if you had any drafts you wanted to use as a baseline? Or we could use one of my unused drafts? It's whatever you prefer, really. I'd love to work with something of yours, though. I love your style, it's so ... hah, I don't know. It's just so you."

Jihoon thanked god he had not cut his hair as some carats had begged, because now the length allowed him to cover the red of his ears. A single compliment from you had him heating up, clammy hands getting even clammier at the thought of you using his talent as a compliment. If you wanted to use his music, there was just no way for him to deny you. He wanted to hear more of your praise to him.

"Y-yeah? I have uh, a few that I could show you. They're just drafts, but you know."

You visibly perked up at this, scooting even closer to him as he began to fiddle with his computer, opening up some files to show you. Your excitement at his work had him swooning internally. The amount of interest you'd been showing since meeting yesterday was already getting the better of him.

"Woozi-nim, holy shit. These are hundreds of files. Are these all unfinished?"

"Uh, yeah. I uh, tend to have a few drafts saved for future projects."

"I get that. Me too, but these have to be over 300 unfinished songs," you were in clear shock (perhaps admiration?) of the endless tracks in front of you. Jihoon wasn't sure if he should feel ashamed at having so much unfinished work (which made bit feel like a bit of a loser), or be proud since you seemed to be impressed at the vast number.

"I like to be prepared. You know, just in case."

"It's .. wow. I knew you were good, but this is insane, Woozi-nim."

"I, you can call me Jihoon," he didn't really care much for the distinction between Woozi and Jihoon at this point; he was pretty used to both. But a part of him just wanted to hear you call him by his real name; the one only those close to him really used. He also wanted an out from the conversation, feeling too flustered at your compliments.

You chuckled, nodding at him, "Okay, Jihoon. Sorry, didn't really know what name to go for at first."

"No, it-it's fine. I'm only a year older. You can speak comfortably."

The rest of the conversation was filled with technicalities about the collaboration. Now that you two had established a, let's say, closer acquaintance, you were able to discuss your ideas more comfortably. Jihoon still had to put up with the endless compliments about his work as you two went through possible tracks for the song, but he tried his best to take them like a champ, simply chuckling shyly and shrugging them off. Your genuine admiration for his skill had him reeling inside, enamored with the tone of your voice any time you'd express excitement at hearing exclusive Universe Factory content. He hadn't felt butterflies in his stomach like this in, well, ever. He felt like he was a high school student with a silly crush.

The disappointment in his face as you parted ways must've been clear (which made him embarrassed beyond belief), as you pulled out your phone and asked him to put his contact in, letting him know you'd be seeing him soon. The possession of your contact info made him excited. He knew it was probably just for work purposes, but he held a stupid hope in the back of his head that you'd given it to him because you had interest in meeting again soon.

And you did see each other soon, consistently meeting in order to work on the song. A few of the times you were joined by Bumzu (who was also helping out with the song), or Soonyoung (who was just a nosy bastard who wouldn't leave Jihoon's studio), which made him curse out his two friends, wanting you all to himself. His crush had developed quickly after that second meeting. You were now all he thought about. Every morning when he got ready to start his day, he wondered which shirt you'd like him best in. Would you like if he trimmed his hair or did you like it long? What did you like in guys? (Except had already gone on incognito mode on his phone to search your ideal type, growing instantly embarrassed and exiting out of the tab). He thought of you as he exercised, wondering if you'd like his muscles and physique. His entire existence was surrounded by thoughts of you. And he hoped maybe he was also in your mind.

The first time he saw you outside his studio walls was at the Hybe gym as he worked out with Mingyu, Soonyoung and Joshua. He almost lost hold on the dumbbells in his hands upon spotting you, tight leggings and cropped shirt adorning your body. He had seen you in less clothing before (Only ever through a screen, in all the pretty concept photos your group had done, or in the occasional fancam he'd come across), but seeing your silhouette in the flesh had all thoughts leaving his mind. He felt ashamed at his way of thinking. He didn't want to objectify you like that, but the thoughts of your beauty had not left his mind for two weeks now, since the day he first met you.

But his eyes couldn't be helped, glued to your form as you walked into the place, paying extra attention to the parts that stood out most for him. He was like a depraved monster, his breath getting ragged as he watched you move around, licking his lips and sighing at every small movement you made. God, what was happening to him? Why was he so immediately aroused? Luckily, his thoughts were quickly interrupted by a cough from a very annoying Kim Mingyu, who had just been spotting him before his abrupt stop.

"Hyung .. You're too obvious."

"Wha-what are you talking about?", he did not like the smirk attached to Mingyu's face, nor the matching mocking smile in Soonyoung and Joshua's.

"You should see him when she's sitting in his studio. It's sad to watch," snickered the fellow 96-liner.

"Oh? She's the girl? Damn, hyung. She's really pretty."

"It's not- there's no girl. We're just working together," his feelings were already complicated enough, he didn't need the involvement of his members' teasing.

"C'mon, Hyung! It's okay if you like her. She's pretty, she's an idol-producer. She's perfect for you. I think you should go for it," encouraged Mingyu, in his optimistic Mingyu-fashion.

"Yeah, I mean. You were just about to cum in your pants at just seeing her in some leggings. I don't think you have anything to lose if you're already at the point of public indecency."

Yeah, this was exactly why he wanted to keep them as far away as possible.

"Soonyoung, I swear to g-"

"Jihoon? Oh my god, hi! I didn't realize you were here," it was you, now at a closer proximity and a slight sheen of sweat attached to your skin. Had Jihoon not been snapped out of his trance earlier, he probably would've been salivating by now.

"Oh. Hi Y/N. How are you?", he felt like he was being scrutinized for his every word and move by his members, which made him feel extremely awkward (more than usual).

"Good! I didn't know you used the company gym. I'd never seen you here before. You should've told me. We could've come together," you smiled before turning to his friends, "Hi! I'm Y/N, it's nice to meet you!"

Soonyoung made a show of stretching his hand out to you, bowing way too low for such a casual setting (probably just to peeve Jihoon). He was followed by Joshua, who held onto your hand in a way that had Jihoon fuming to himself.

"Hello, Y/N. I think we might've met before. You're Kwannie's friend, right?"

"Oh, right! Yeah, I've been to your guys' practice room before, but Jihoon didn't recognize me when we first met, so I wanted to re-introduce myself just in case," you giggled in Jihoon's direction.

"Don't mind him. That's just Jihoon. He's too distracted for his own good. I'm Kim Mingyu, by the way," the youngest shot you a flirtatious smile.

He needed all of them to keep the flirting as toned down as humanly possible. Although jealousy was not an emotion he felt often, the thought of his best friends even looking at you had his ears turning red in anger. But in very expected fashion, they all continued to take turns flirting with you for the next twenty minutes, completely shrugging off any intention of working out they might've had before having spotted you. Luckily (and surprisingly) for him, you were not reciprocating the flirting, nor where your eyes ever off of Jihoon for too long, always including him in your responses to his members one way or another.

You were somehow immune to the charms of Kwon Soonyoung, which, yeah, Jihoon didn't blame you for. You were also unaffected by Jisoo, which was a little more rare from Jihoon's experience. What shocked him most, though, was that your eyes still stayed on him even while one Kim Mingyu blatantly flirted with you. He'd known one too many girls who had fallen victim to his flirting (whether it be intentional or not), and to see you fully shrug him off in favor of looking to Jihoon instead had his heart going at an inhuman speed.

The interaction ended not too much time later, leaving Jihoon's ears red, but now from embarrassment at his friends slyly suggesting his interest at you multiple times throughout the conversation. Despite them being subtle about it, he was still mortified, specially when by the end of it, they'd pushed him to walk you back to your practice room while they wandered off on their own.

"I'm so sorry about them. They can be a bit much."

"It's fine, Jihoon. Don't worry about it. They were really fun. I can see how you're all so close."

"Ah, yeah. You know how it is .. Uh, sorry they kept hitting on you like that,"

he knew he was a bit of an idiot for bringing it up, but he wanted to gauge your feelings on it. He needed to know if he at least held a chance against his members or if you'd just been being nice by not reciprocating in front of him.

You chuckled as you responded, "I know they weren't being serious about it, Jihoon. Don't sweat it. It's not them I'm interested in anyways."

Oh, great. That was good to hear .. Wait. What?

"W-What?l"

"Oh. We're here. This is my group's practice room. Sorry I made you walk all the way here, I know your practice room is like five floors up," you apologized sheepishly, completely disregarding what you'd just said.

"I-it's fine. I'll see you on Thursday, then?"

"Thursday? We have a shoot tomorrow, Jihoon. Remember? We need a jacket shoot for the collab. It was on the schedule."

Oh, fuck. He had completely blanked on that. You guys were almost done recording the finishing touches to the song, but he forgot you guys also needed to do the shoot for the promo and learn the choreo as soon as you gave the choreographers the finalized version for the single. There was still so much to be done, which only meant even more time spent with you.

"Yeah, right. Sorry, hah, completely spaced out on that. I'll see you tomo-"

"Come pick me up?"

"Huh?"

"I mean, stop by my practice room so we can walk together? Is that okay?"

Did you- did you want to spend even more time with him? He wasn't complaining. He wanted all his time to be consumed by you, but .. was the feeling mutual?

"Yes," he paused, realizing his answer had been too short and mechanical, "I mean, yeah, sure, I don't mind. I'll see you here tomorrow morning."

You giggled at him before bidding your goodbye once more, but this time offering him a quick side hug before disappearing through the door to your practice room. Jihoon was glad you were gone, because this time it wasn't just his ears that were red, but his whole face had begun to resemble a tomato.

It was time to admit to himself that he was down bad tremendously for you.

Jihoon had not at any moment stopped to wonder what type of vibe the collaboration was meant to follow. Yeah, he was working on the song (which was almost finalized by now), so he knew it was pretty much a pop-rock-ish vibe that they were going for, but he didn't know what the rest of the equation would look like, which was something he wished he'd prepared a bit better for.

He had walked you over this morning, even being enticed by Seungkwan into bringing you your favorite drink as a nice gesture (which worked perfectly, as it won him over yet another side hug). The two of you arrived to the designated area for photoshoots located in one of the lower floors of the Hybe building, then went your separate ways to head over to hair and makeup in order to get your outfits situated. He had to admit he liked his outfit. It was a little more provocative than usual, with it being mostly black leather and the top being unbuttoned enough to show off most of his abdomen. It was your outfit, however, that had him reeling.

Nothing could have prepared him for the moment he stepped out and spotted you doing a few solo shots in preparation, your outfit and makeup already perfectly in place. He had no words to express how he felt upon seeing you. You looked so ... gorgeous. Unsure of how to react at the sight in front of him, he stood there staring, almost as if he'd seen an apparition. It wasn't until one of the photographers called him over that he managed to regain sense of self and join you.

The entirety of the photoshoot was absolute hell for Jihoon. This was the closest he'd ever been to you (sans the now two quick side hugs you'd given him in the past day). The shoot was a bit .. sensual in nature. The first set of outfits were edgier, so the shoot was the basic scenario you'd picture for a punk-rock pictorial. The second set of outfits had been the issue, because they went in the complete opposite direction. You were in a beaten down motel room setting, wearing very simple outfits, although they were both very skimpy and thin, almost as if to signify the simplicity of the concept. You two posed together on the bed, with your poses getting more and more intimate by the minute. At some point he had been directed to embrace you as he looked into your lips, with the proximity being way too close for comfort (or at least that's what he tried to tell himself). At another point he was kneeling on the bed as he looked up at you, your eyes simulating lust as you looked down on him, hand on his chin, lifting his gaze to yours.

The shoot had been an experience, to say the least. Jihoon wasn't sure how he survived it without breaking. He thanked the gods for the years of preparation with all types of shoots he'd done with the members over the years. However, completion of the shoot did not mean he was unaffected. He had no idea how he'd get the image of your lips so close to his out of his mind. Despite knowing it'd all been professional and strictly fake, he could've sworn he felt something every time your eyes would meet when at such a close distance. He wanted it to be real so badly, but once again he chalked it up to being wishful thinking. At least the worst of it was over, and he could now get back to sitting next to you in his studio at a respectable distance.

Jihoon had been an idiot to ever believe that the shoot had been the worst of it.

It had now been a week since the dreaded photoshoot (The one that had him up at night imagining what it would've been like if he had just closed the gap between your lips, damning anyone else in the room), and now it had been a few days since the song had finally been completed. He had thoroughly enjoyed co-producing with you, geeking at your ability to compliment each other perfectly. Your voice was yet another thing he had fallen in love with during the process, fully enamored by every single take you did. It had actually slowed down the process, as Jihoon green-lit every single one of your takes due to the rose-colored glasses that prevented him from catching mistakes you swore you'd committed during a few of the takes. You seemed to be similar, however, as you continued to shower him in compliments (even at the shoot, where you had complimented him with his hard work at the gym - a moment he chose to disregard or else he would've lost his mind at the implications), refusing to admit any faults of his while recording.

Now, however, he found himself in very difficult and unchartered waters. Any other time in which he'd produced a song, he'd never been involved further than that. He'd done duo shoots before, with women at that, but what he'd never done was share a choreography with someone who wasn't a member of Seventeen. He had danced with women before, of course, even having participated in more sensual dances, but this felt different. All previous times had been with nameless backup dancers he had never known too well. This was you. He now had to work through an entire choreo with you as the two of you danced around each other (physically and figuratively, he believed).

Most of the song involved a very casual choreo, as the two of you danced mostly separately but complimented one another. The kicker was the bridge of the song, where the melody mellowed out a bit and allowed for a quick dance break of sorts. It was very sensual in nature, and required you and Jihoon to tangle against each other as you used the other's body to complete the dance. Going over it had been full of shy smiles and eyes that couldn't seem to meet. It almost made him believe that you'd felt just as flustered as he did. When you actually began to dance over that part, however, you left Jihoon's mouth watering at how easy it was for you to meld your body to his; how you would guide his shy hands to place them in all the correct places. The feeling of your body against his was new and unfamiliar, but it felt so right to him. He wanted nothing more than to leave his mark on your skin, signaling that he was the only one meant to touch there. He was truly going mad.

It had now been about two months since Jihoon had first met you. The song hadn't been released yet, but most preparations for it had been done. All that was left was a quick music video shoot plus a few music show appearances that would come after the actual release of the song. Thus far, the song had been announced, with a pending release date of a month from now. Jihoon had enjoyed public reaction to the unexpected collab, with people even going as far as calling you a dynamic duo due to your respective reputations as the main producers of your groups.

You seemed to also enjoy knowing the news had finally broken to the public, even going as far as mentioning Jihoon in some of your lives. He specifically recalled a moment he'd seen as he watched it live, one that had him blushing and kicking his feet. You'd been asked about what it was like working with Jihoon, to which you responded with a whole paragraph of compliments directed at his work ethic, along with a short quip about how cute you found Jihoon to be, deeming it 'difficult to focus with him around.' He felt like he was on cloud nine at the comment, despite how lightheartedly you had delivered it.

After that (and a few more instances of you shooting compliments his way), he had decided he wanted to see you outside of a work-related schedule. He had begun making excuses to find himself on your group's floor, going as far as using Seungkwan and Soonyoung (who you'd unfortunately befriended due to his constant unwanted presence as you two worked on your song) as pawns in order to not be as obvious whenever he went to see you. Despite your usually outgoing demeanor, you seemed a bit more reserved whenever it was only you and Jihoon. He wondered if it was because of his quiet demeanor, or because you might've maybe returned his feelings and felt too shy to be too expressive around your crush - he knew damn well that was his case, at least.

Today the two of you were working out together at the gym - a huge feat for Jihoon, who could not help but ogle at you whenever you weren't paying attention - with him playing the role of your spotter. He had extensive knowledge of weightlifting, which he had been proud to impress you with. Right now, you were working on your arms, which required Jihoon at a close proximity in order to make sure you didn't get hurt. He enjoyed this way more than he could admit to anyone or himself.

"Is this okay? Is this the right position to do it?", you questioned as you made eye contact with him through the mirror. Your arms were lifted above your shoulders, with dumbbells on each of them as you attempted to lift them both at once.

"Yeah. That's perfect. Is it too heavy? Do you need to stop?"

"No, I'm fine, Ji, I promise. Just stand a little closer, yeah? I don't wanna drop them. And put your arms under mine?", he followed your instructions, now towering over you from behind as you sat in front of him.

The two of you had grown more comfortable in the past two weeks or so, seeing each other almost every day while outside of official schedules. He'd learned that, unlike him, you didn't have any issues with personal space, often allowing him to stand too close for comfort. He couldn't complain, though, as he was always too hypnotized by the proximity.

"Shit!", you yelped, almost dropping the dumbbell before Jihoon managed to intercept it. You had begun to do a set before the one minute mark passed, deeming you too weak to lift the dumbbell all the way up. Luckily, you had instructed Jihoon to stand close to you in order to prevent any actual damage.

"Are you okay?", he asked as he placed the dumbbells on the ground, rounding the seat in order to stand in front of your sitting form.

It was mind-numbing, really. The angle in which he was looking down at you, with your pretty eyes looking back at him with a semi-worried expression on your face at the shock of almost dropping such a heavy weight on yourself. The incident left his mind immediately at the sight of you, a layer of sweat covering your skin as you panted while looking up at him. He pulled you up by your arms, helping you stand in front of him. In very cliche fashion, you tripped a bit, almost landing on him before he caught you by your forearms. The classic 'falling-atop-your-crush' trope did not happen, but he still ended up at even a closer proximity to you. Just when he had finally begun to forget the sight of your lips right in front of his from back when you did the jacket shoot together.

He did not move back, and neither did you, allowing the small distance between you to fog both of your minds.

"T-thanks, Hoonie. Could've really hurt myself," this was the first time he'd ever heard a stutter out of you, with your eyes not looking into his as they usually did. Your closeness still not diminishing even when the danger of the situation had already dissipated.

"'Course. Uh, I .. Maybe we should go back to a lighter weight?"

It took you a moment to respond, eventually choosing to look back at him with your pretty eyes, a seemingly empty head to match. He liked the look on you. He could've sworn he saw your eyes lower to his lips, but his mind was too clouded to confirm.

"Uh, actually, I think im done for the day. Is that okay? I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

"Oh, right. Yeah. I'll meet you in front of your practice room?", he was confused at your sudden departure, dreading the separation, but he figured one of you would have to break the spell eventually.

"Yeah. See you there, Hoonie. I'll text you later, okay?", you gave him a quick peck on his cheek before turning to the exit, leaving behind a beet-red Jihoon as he tried to get his heartbeat to slow to a healthy rhythm.

He was left standing there, in the cold and empty company gym as he pondered as to whether or not his feelings may be mutual.

The next day the two of you met again, no mention of yesterday at all. What would there be to mention anyways? That you two stood close to each other? Jihoon felt like such a loser even having considered it anything. He was just inexperienced at this, and very much touch starved, so any small suggestive interaction had him overthinking. Like right now, as you hooked your arm on his to walk along the Hybe building together, not a care in the world about anyone who would see you.

"Did you see the outline for the music video?", you spoke up once the two of you had reached the cafeteria, picking a secluded table to sit at - not that many people wandered there anyway.

"Hmm. No, what is it?", he still hadn't managed to beat the habit of not checking his emails.

You giggled, seeming a little flustered, "Uh, we're playing a couple. Very Bonnie and Clyde but with a grudge twist. Seems pretty cool, actually."

"Oh. We-we're playing a couple?"

"Yeah. I think we can pull it off. You did really good at the shoot. Did you see the finished product? Okay, never mind. I know you didn't. They look really good, though. We look very convincing."

He knew you didn't mean anything by it, but you constantly had him wondering. If you liked him you wouldn't be this direct, right? This must've all been very lighthearted to you. Sure, you were friends, but that's where it all ended for you. Jihoon was the complete opposite. Every single interaction you had had him falling deeper and deeper into a hole of infatuation for you. There was nothing about you he wasn't obsessed with. It had begun to manifest in all areas of his life, even his work. He had never had more unfinished love songs in his hard drive.

Unbeknownst to you, he had purposely avoided taking a look at those pictures, knowing his mind would go blank at the image of you looking at him with those lustful eyes from a third-person perspective. Living through it already had him in agony night after night as he thought of nothing but you.

"Y-yeah. I saw them," he lied, "You did amazing."

"Really?", you were always giddy at his compliments (which didn't come often due to his shy demeanor towards you), "I've never done a more provocative concept like this before. It's fun. It suits you a lot, Jihoon. I'm glad I got to do it with you of all people."

And you had no idea how glad he was too.

Shooting the music video had somehow been even more agonizing than the photoshoot. It was two grueling days of constant time spent together. He loved your company, but the stylists kept insisting on dressing you in the most provocative outfits imaginable to man. He couldn't think while he looked at you. You were like a siren. Even the strongest of men wouldn't be able to resist you.

The worst of it came in the form of the director instructing you two to act like two lovers against the world. Word for word. It wasn't difficult for Jihoon to pretend he was enamored by you, but he was truly at a loss of words over how well you also played your role. By now he had become numb to your touch, having run through the choreography with you multiple times by now, and with you having become increasingly touchier through the time you'd known each other.

He thanked god under his breath as soon as the two days came to a close, knowing that now he could at least keep his feelings under wraps for a while. It was now about two weeks until the release of the song. According to the schedule, all that was left was one pre-recorded Studio Choom performance, two comeback shows after the release of the song, and two variety show appearances together. It was all pretty straightforward from now on. There was no way Jihoon wouldn't be able to put up with what was left. He had this in the bag.

The worst thing imaginable happened after that. Jihoon had not planned for this, nor had you, apparently.

It was very sudden and came completely out of left field. It pertained to you, but had affected Jihoon more than anyone involved.

Dispatch had released an article just a week before the official release of the song. Promotions had only begun, but had been slightly disrupted by this sudden interruption.

The article featured you, and an unknown man. They were clearly pictures taken off-guard, from a distance. You were in front of some building, ignorant to any cameras nearby. You were too close for Jihoon's comfort. He knew there was some type of relationship there. The caption to the picture didn't help matters either. Something about an estranged lover you'd been keeping secret from the media. There were too many pictures for Jihoon to process. In some you were embracing, while in others you were sharing a low-quality peck from what he could tell.

Seeing that article had been an absolute punch in the gut. There was no argument against it. There was clearly something between you and that guy. He was standing too close to you, even holding onto you in most of the pictures. You could barely tell it was you, but to Jihoon it was obvious. He had never felt heartbreak like this before. The two of you had never dated or even insinuated actual interest in the other, but it still felt like betrayal to him, as irrational as that thought was. It was all his fault, really. Had he told you about his feelings, maybe things would've been different.

Jihoon felt like an idiot. Of course this had all been just a business transaction to you. You were assigned to work with him, just as he was you. Even if he had led himself to believe that the feelings might've somehow been mutual, it had all just been in his head. What would you see in him anyways? Yeah, sure, you had a few things in common, but who in their right mind would ever want to be with the empty-hearted producer who cared for nothing but work. Hell, the day he met you was yet another day in which he had been willingly locked in his studio all day. That was what you would've been signing up for, had you looked his way. He didn't wish such a loveless relationship to anyone. He knew by now that he did- he did love you, but he knew he was probably unable to love you in the way you deserved. He was incapable of that. At 26, he'd had no experience with love. Why would someone as beautiful and amazing as you want to be with someone like him?

He was in love with you. That was something he could now full-heartedly admit to himself. Within these two months he had fallen deeply in love with you. Nothing could change that by now, not even knowing that you were already taken. He couldn't help himself in locking himself in his house after that, ignoring and all messages from both you and his manager regarding the few rehearsals he had skipped over.

Hybe did their damage control, making the situation go away as soon as it arose, but to Jihoon the damage had been done. He felt like an irrational idiot being hurt by this, but he needed to be away from you for a few days. You hadn't done anything to him, but he couldn't see you right now without feeling pain. He was punishing you with no proper justification, but his feelings were too strong for him to put up with.

A little over an entire day went on like this, with no communication from Jihoon to anyone. He was surprised no one had come looking for him until now, the moment in which bangs against his front door could be heard all the way from his room. Whoever was looking for him had made liberal use of the doorbell too, not giving him a single break from its constant ringing as he tried to ignore it. He finally grew too tired of it, deciding to give up his moping and going downstairs to beg that person to leave him alone to his misery. He still needed a few days before he could go face his reality. He couldn't face you just yet.

Except the choice had been made for him. His first mistake had been not checking the doorbell camera, which would've made him privy on who exactly was knocking on his door. He felt bad at thinking this, but had he known it was you, he never would've opened it.

He was beyond embarrassed at his appearance, once more wearing a three-day-old shirt and his cheeks damp with the tears he hadn't yet wiped away. You, on the other hand, looked as beautiful as ever. You carried a worried look on your face, lips pouty and eyebrows furrowed as you looked at him. He was not given time to welcome you in before you barged in for yourself, launching yourself at him in a tight hug before he could say anything. He wasn't an idiot, and he was too weak for his liking, so he held you back just as tight, enjoying a good three or so minutes of silence as you held each other.

You pulled away too soon for his liking, unhooking your face from the crook of his neck as you spoke up, still holding onto him, "Jihoon ... I'm so sorry. It's- it's not what you think, I swear. Please believe me."

He wasn't sure why you were so apologetic. You didn't owe him anything. He felt like even more of a loser at making you feel like you had to apologize for having a boyfriend. He knew that by now there was no way you didn't know about his crush on you, which made him feel even more humiliated at the situation. He separated himself from you for the first time ever, creating some distance as he refused to look at you. He took this chance to close the door he had left open when you had attacked him with your embrace.

"You don't have to ..."

"No, Jihoon. Listen to me. Please."

Your eyes were glossy now, and Jihoon felt bad at causing you any distress, so he signaled at you to continue.

"It's not- it isn't what you think. Yeah, I ... I did have a ... a thing with that guy. I know Hybe denied it being me, but you know- you know it's me. But it's not how it looks!"

"Then ... what is it?", he couldn't believe he was even letting himself ask that question, as if you had to explain yourself to him. But part of him really wanted to know. He wanted to somehow hear you say that it wasn't true, that you would never look at anyone but him.

"It's an old picture. He- he used to work for our group, as staff. We had a thing. It ended badly. Haven't really dated since then. This was before I met you, Jihoon, please, I need you to know that."

"You .. Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you need me to know that?", he hoped against all hope that you'd answer with what he'd been wanting to hear since he met you, but he knew he was playing with the devil when asking you that. He knew there was a very logical chance that you'd just confirm your platonic feelings for him, or straight up reject him.

"You know, Jihoon. I know you know. I- I'd never do that to you. I'd never look at anyone but you."

"Do you-"

"Yes', you paused, 'I like you, Jihoon."

And then his heart stopped beating.

"So much. Since we met. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since the day we met. I like you so fucking much. I can't think of anything else. I thought it was just because I've always been a fan of yours, but ... being around you just made me feel so happy. I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier. Fuck, I'm sorry I made you feel like there was someone else in the picture."

He didn't know what to say. You'd said everything he had wanted to hear for the past two months. You liked him. It wasn't one-sided. There was nothing stopping him from making you his now. Those feelings he thought had been fake for the portrayal of your song's concept had been genuine all along. He'd never felt such relief.

"Jihoon? Is it not ...? Fuck. Did I misread everything? Shit, I'm sorry. I should, uh, I should go-"

Fuck. No! He needed to reciprocate, he just had no idea how. He couldn't have you thinking he wasn't equally (if not more) obsessed with you. So he did the one thing he could think of in that moment. Something he had imagined time and time again, but never had the courage to do.

You yelped against him as he pulled his lips to yours, but immediately began kissing him back. There was nothing tender about the kiss as Jihoon would've expected. It was a complete mess from the start. The kiss was a testament to how badly you'd both wanted each other this whole time.

Jihoon felt lightheaded at the feeling of your tongue sneaking its way into his mouth, and the moans that accompanied it. He couldn't help but feel immediate arousal at your touch. He wasn't sure how to kiss you. He'd never shared such a passionate exchange before, but he wanted to give you everything in him with his kiss.

You only pulled away when you were out of breath, still keeping yourself as close to him as possible as you breathed into each other's mouths, your lips lightly closing over his as you regained your breath.

"Hoonie ..." the sound of your breathless voice muttering his name did shameful things to him. There was no way he could handle a conversation right now.

"Tell me- tell me you like me. I need to know. Please ..." the sheer lust and desperation in your voice were things that would never leave Jihoon's mind.

"So much. I li- I love you. You have no idea. Every day was agony not acting on it. I'm sorry if it's too much, but it's true. I've never felt this way before. I'm in love with you. The thought of you with someone else made me wanna give everything up. It's ... God, I just love you."

You didn't seem to need any more words before closing the gap again, this time backing him up against the nearest wall as you kissed him with all your might. You took full control of the kiss, grabbing his cheeks and angling him so you could play with his lips as you saw fit. He moaned and writhed against you, shyly attempting to hold onto your waist but not actually daring to. You must've caught wind of his intentions, grabbing onto his hands and forcing them on your waist, pressing your chest up against his. He began to caress your waist, falling in love with the slope of your back in the process. He was still shy with his movements, but his lips were nothing but. He adored your soft sighs against his lips any time his tongue would suckle on yours, or any time his teeth nibbled on your bottom lip.

You must've eventually grown tired of his shy demeanor, grabbing onto his arms and pining them above his head, beginning to softly grind against him as you began to lick and suck at his neck. Jihoon was on cloud nine. His body was unsure of how to react to such pleasure from someone he had already grown so addicted to.

"Hoonie ... want you so bad ... please," his knees buckled at your begging, your warm breath hitting against his ear as he groaned out at the thought of you in his bed.

He was simply a shell of himself at that point, so it had been your responsibility to drag the both of you in the direction he pointed his bedroom was at, but as soon as you were there, you pushed him to lay on the bed. He was ready for whatever you were willing to give him. He had no chance against you anyway.

"Hoonie, shit. Been wanting you for so long. Can I, please?", you'd begun to straddle him, leaning over him as you ghosted over his lips. He swore he wasn't going to make it, body heating up at the mere suggestion of you touching him.

"P-please ..."

You began kissing him again, running your hands up and down his torso, eventually landing on his crotch, softly caressing it as he whined into your mouth.

"Oh? Jihoonie ... You're so hard. Want me to help you?"

"Fuck ... Need you so bad, please ..."

"But we haven't even started to have fun," you moved your hand away, now sitting up a bit to begin grinding against his crotch, deep movements making his eyes roll back as his arms laid limp on his sides.

"Won't you touch me, Hoonie? Don't be shy. You already know how much I want you," you guided his hands to your hips, making him clamp his fingers on the clothed flesh while you moaned out at the feeling of his hard cock gracing your most delicate parts.

You were both beginning to heat up, which led you to throw your shirt off, now only in a bra and some sweats. He audibly moaned at the view, only causing you to play it up for him as you caressed your own covered breasts, "Want me to take my bra off, baby? Hmm?"

"Y-yes. Wanna see you so bad. You're so beautiful."

That was enough for you to wiggle your way out of your pants, throwing off your bra right after. The sight had his cock squirming under you. No amount of lonely nights thinking about you could have ever prepared him for the sight before him. Your soft skin shining under the soft light of the half drawn blinds. He wanted to memorize your body, leave his mark on every inch of it, but his arms would not move from your hips. He knew that the moment he got his hands on you he would finally face insanity. There was not a single detail he wasn't already obsessed with. He wanted you so badly, but he didn't know what to do with himself. His cock was extremely swollen under his sweats, begging to find comfort in any crevice of your body you would allow. The fleeting thought of fucking your pretty tits flew through his mind, making him shudder as he continued to pant at the beautiful girl sitting on him.

"Touch me?", you asked, already guiding his hands to your breasts, making him sit up to be face to face with you.

"Holy fuck ..." he moaned at the warmth of your breasts in his hands. He couldn't help himself in getting his fill of you, hands squeezing and running all over your chest. The moment he dared to pinch at your nipples he truly saw heaven, hearing you whine his name in the prettiest sound he'd ever heard.

"Hoo-Hoonie ... Please. Touch me more. Just like that," you let your head fall back, sighing at the soft touch of his fingers pinching at your nipples, "Your mouth, Hoonie ..."

That was all he needed to lower his head and begin licking at your nipples, biting lightly as he pulled at them, dick twitching desperately at the pretty sounds leaving your lips. He could've sworn he'd cum just from how beautiful you sounded. His ears were ringing by now, only able to process the feeling of your hand pressing his face against your chest and your hips suddenly restarting their movements against his own.

You let him make out with your tits for a bit before pulling him off, much to his dismay. You giggled at his reaction, but began to pout at him to get him to remove his top.

"Shit. God, Hoonie, you're so gorgeous," you breathed out upon seeing his bare chest, running your hands up and down the blank canvas. You let your own fingers pull and pinch at his nipples a bit, slow in your movements as he whined at you. He understood now, how fucking good such a light touch in such a sensitive area felt. He was beginning to lose all air in his brain, mind foggy as you gave him all types of pleasure.

He needed you now. Needed attention in his nether area so bad. He could feel how wet you were through his sweats, softly begging you to please let him have you. The whisper against your ear had you pulling your hands away from his chest, separating yourself enough to look into his eyes.

"Want you too. Can I have it, Hoonie? Fuck ... Will you judge me if I beg? I just ... Want you in my mouth so bad, Hoonie, please."

He felt embarrassed by his reaction, but he couldn't help but moan loudly at that simple sentence, nodding like crazy at the proposition. The last time he'd been in someone's mouth had been years ago. He had felt intimate touch before, but only a handful of times total. He was fully unprepared for what your mouth encompassing him would feel like.

Before he knew it, you had thrown off both his pants and boxers, enticing him to sit at the edge of the bed as you knelt in front of him. You were looking at his cock as if it were your last meal, eyes crossed and a moan leaving your mouth at the sight. He couldn't believe a gorgeous thing like yourself would ever show so much thirst for him. His soul left his body the moment you lowered your tongue onto his tip, kitten-licking at it as you looked up into his eyes. What truly made him lose his mind, however, was the moment you began to bob your head up and down his cock, with your hands playing and scratching at his balls. His hands clutched at the sheets, unable to hold himself in a sat up position due to the unimaginable pleasure. He was unsure how he didn't cum the moment you put your mouth on him (or the moment you kissed him, if he was being honest).

"So- fuck ... So fucking good. You're perfect. Please ..." he wasn't sure what he was begging for. The pleasure was clouding his mind. And then you did something that had him gasping for air. You unglued your mouth from gagging on his cock in favor of licking and sucking at his balls. His eyes rolled all the way back into his brain, back arching against the bed as you took turns licking his balls and worshiping his cock.

Unsurprisingly, he came in your mouth moments later, almost blacking out at the feeling. He was unable to catch his breath for a good minute, all the while you swallowed his seed and sat back on him. Before he was able to resume his breathing, you had already shoved your tongue back in his mouth, making him whine at the mixture of your saliva and his cum twirling in your tongue. He couldn't help his hands running all over your body, hugging and squeezing at every curve he could reach.

"Baby, I-"

"Taste so good, Hoonie, fuck. You have no idea how much I thought about that. Every time you wore those tiny little shorts to dance practice all I wanted to do was kick everyone out and beg you to fuck my mouth."

Jesus Christ. He hated how outspoken you were sometimes. He felt himself begin to harden again at just the simple thought of you wanting him as much as he did you (even though he was 99% sure that was impossible). He felt bad, but he was a bit sad he had cum in your mouth. He had thought of the feeling of your cunt wrapping around him almost every night for the past month. He knew he'd get it sooner or later, but a sinister part of his brain was begging him to flip you around and go to town on you. He might've been inexperienced, but he knew that his body would take him there if he needed it.

"W-wanna ..."

"Hmm? Yeah, baby?", you softly caressed his cheek, looking at him with so much love in your eyes.

"Please ..." he couldn't bring himself to say it. He felt too ashamed at asking for even more out of you when he'd already made you do all the work to confess and even made him have the best orgasm of his life.

"Yeah, Hoonie? Want me? Want you too. You have no idea ..." he thanked god the moment you started grinding against his bare dick yet again, leaning down to lick at his lips, "Can I ride you, baby? Please ... Been dreaming about it."

All he could do was whine and nod as his hands squeezed at your ass, trying to entice you into lifting your hips so you could finally sit on his now hardened dick.

No words left his mouth as you finally lowered on him, all his focus on the pretty expression on your face as you moaned out at the feeling of being impaled by him. His back arched, head digging back into the mattress at the feeling of your cunt tightening around him. He felt your back arch too as you leaned down to kiss him, mouths open as you whined and mewled at each other.

You began humping him with no proper rhythm, causing him to thrust upwards to meet your own grinds. He was so desperate for you. Nothing compared to how good he felt in that moment. Your body was drawing all types of pleasure out of him.

"F-feel so good. Hoonie ... You're so- Ah! So fucking good for me."

"Me? You ... Shit. Never felt this good. You're perfect," you tightened at his words, making him plant his feet on the bed and begin to frantically fuck upwards, leading you to scream and whine his name for all his neighbors to hear.

"Love you so much- Fuck! Been wanting you forever. Didn't know how hard I'd fall for you that day, shit. You're everything to me," he couldn't help himself in rambling yet another confession in your ear as you attempted to match the animalistic pace of his thrusts.

"Love you too, Hoonie. You have n-no idea. Never letting you go. You- you're mine now," and yours he wanted to be forever.

Jihoon had never imagined he'd feel love like this as long as he was alive. He had lost hope in finding the perfect girl many years ago, assuming his lifestyle to be too difficult for him to find someone to love him so strongly, but now he had you. Now he had you in his arms as you professed your love for one another. He had never felt such happiness. His ability to think left him soon after, however, as you clamped down on him with yet another scream of his name as you found your end, taking him with you in his own.

After the two minutes or so that it took you to regain your breaths, you managed to cuddle up against each other, unable to stop caressing each other in one way or another. The smiles wouldn't leave your faces. Jihoon couldn't help but think of his life; how he had everything a man could ever want, and now he had you on top of all that, and you'd quickly become his favorite thing. You spent the rest of the day in his bed, making love and waxing poetic at one another. You completely disregarded any collab preparations for the day, opting instead to finally give into each other to the fullest extent.

Soon after, all promotions finally ended. You and Jihoon received equal accolades on your ability to mix both your styles, achieving a successful collaboration between two monster producers. The praise over being all rounders was also endless, as people commended you both for the production, vocals, dance, visuals and chemistry demonstrated all throughout the promotional period.

People noticed how comfortable you were around each other, despite having never publicly interacted before the release date of the single. People believed it was simply amazing work ethic being showcased by the two of you, but what didn't meet the public eye was the genuine love and enjoyment behind every interaction. The two of you had made it a point to begin appearing publicly together often from then on (strictly as friends to anyone who asked, of course), which allowed you to hide your relationship in plain sight.

Jihoon had never been happier, now having you as yet another companion to visit him at his Universe Factory any time he would lock himself in there to work, a habit that began to diminish as he grew more and more addicted to your company outside the confinement of those four walls.

Today was yet another one of those occasions, as you were sharing yet another meal together at the Hybe cafeteria. Staff was mostly unaware of the nature of your relationship, but you two liked it that way.

"Hey," you called out to him as you played around with his phone.

"Hmm?"

"Did you see this email from Bumzu?", he shook his head in denial, "He said Hybe's requesting your help producing for Gyu's collab with Jungkook. Cause of how well ours did."

"Yeah?", he chuckled, "Gonna have to talk to him. Not doing it without you."

"Oh, really?", you grinned at him, "Wanna team up again?", you leaned closer to him, but not too close to draw suspicion from the few other idols and staff around who were eating there.

"Mhm. You did most of the work. Couldn't've done it without you."

He knew that to be completely true, as he would've remained in his slump had you not come out of left field to make his life do a 180.

"Wanna team up with you for the rest of my life."

You smiled at him. He could see in your eyes you wanted to show some sort of affection towards him, but could not due to the public setting. All it took was one look between you for him to know you felt the same. You held his hand under the table, going back to conversation about your next possible collaboration together with your other labelmates, happy to have found a soulmate in one another.

a/n: idk how other writers are putting out 20k+ words monsters jesus christ. anyways i rlly hope u enjoyed <33 this concept had been plaguing my mind for a while so im rlly happy to have finally finished it!!

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theminecraftbee · 18 days

Text

Wels hums as he walks through the shopping district. He doesn't need much, but with the recent release of Overlord, he wants to hear if any of the establishments are playing it. He doesn't expect it somewhere like the Permit Office--Grian's spent too much time and money getting a song that was as perfectly annoying to be put on hold to as possible--and if it is playing in the log shop, he will laugh. But music tends to spread around Hermitcraft fast, and sure, this isn't about anything specific, but who's gonna miss a good opportunity to dunk on Doc?

He hears the backing beats from a nearby shop and hums along with them, walking down the path--

--then turns a corner and leaps back.

"You," Wels hisses.

Hello. Awfully rude of you not to include me, you know, says the specter.

"No, there's absolutely no reason for you to be here. None at all!" Wels says, throwing his hands up. "The last time I saw you was--gosh, I don't even know. Season Seven?"

Yes, yes, and the only time you saw me, you aren't lying to yourself at all, the specter says agreeably. Come on. We both know I was haunting you for what little of Season Eight you bothered to be around for.

"If you were on Eight then you super shouldn't be here," Welsknight says. He shakes his head and looks up at the shop playing his song. Joel's? Huh. Wouldn't have thought he'd have a reason to make fun of Doc. Welsknight removes his shaking hand from his sword hilt again and starts walking.

On account of you leaving everyone there to die, yes, we're both aware, the specter says.

"Oh, screw you, you wouldn't have done any different, get new material," Wels says. "Also, you aren't real? You're like, all of my insecurities or whatever. You don't even have a real body right now, no one's made you one."

The specter shrugs. I mean, if I'm the worst parts of yourself, really, you're the one who needs better material. Abandoning all your friends to die and then abandoning them altogether--it's a wonder they let you stick around!

Wels rolls his eyes and forces his hand to stay out of his inventory. Wouldn't do to give away that still even gets him. He peaks at another shop. They're playing the song too, but it's ever-so-slightly out of sync, which is kind of terrible. As he does, Cleo waves at him. Their eyes sort of stutter right past Helsknight, which definitively tells him exactly how much body the specter even has to possess right now.

"I'm actually having a great time with my friends this season, so like, the whole 'abandonment' song and dance isn't going to work this time. Started the season with them and everything; hard to even go for 'they'll forget me at the first opportunity' or whatever."

The thing is, the more Wels says it, the more its true. None of the insecurities and pain points that the specter is echoing back at him are what he was actually thinking about. He's been like... fine? Sure, he's definitely still got repressed negative traits, but nothing like "Xisuma's evil twin brother playing around with his head" or "the moon crashing and killing everyone" or "too depressed and burnt out to get out of bed" or "sort of considering abandoning everyone because that's like, his thing" these days. None of the things that should bring the specter that had haunted him since Beef's cloning machine back to him without a body. But Wels is careful about clones outside of something like Vault Hunters, where they're explicitly under his control. He, like, doesn't even armor stand much. So that can't be this either; Helsknight clearly doesn't have a body to be messing with Wels yet!

...Helsknight doesn't even have a body or an actual insecurity to be poking at Wels with yet.

He stops. He puts his hands in his pockets, and turns around to face Helsknight. He is no longer shaking at all.

"Dude, why are you even here?" Wels asks.

I told you, it was rude to leave me out, Helsknight says.

"What," Wels says.

The final bars of Overlord play over the speakers. Welsknight hums and nods before it suddenly clicks.

"What," Wels says again.

Honestly, you're not normally this much of a moron. It was rude to leave me out. Rapping is also my thing.

"Dude," Wels says.

I could totally destroy Docm77 any day. I would obliterate the fool you call a "friend" in ways you cannot comprehend. You invoke a sacrificial goat? I know ways he'd never recover, gods he'd never be able to retrieve himself from. It would be laughable. And you left me out.

Wels stares at the demon from his nightmares.

"You're mad at me because you didn't get to be in my diss track," Wels says.

You let me be in the last one, Helsknight says.

"Dude," Wels says. "Dude, that's pathetic."

Helsknight sniffs. I'm your worst qualities. What does that say about you.

"I didn't even write this for this season," Wels says.

That makes it worse, Helsknight says.

"I don't even know where to start? For one--no, I still don't even know where to start," Wels says. "This is like, the lamest reason you could possibly have to come haunt me. Go away, I'm basking in my like, top 3 charting hit on the Hermitcraft server."

Top three? Pathetic. There are only three songs. You'd be the top song if you'd simply included my power, Helsknight says.

"I can't beat the streaming minutes Grian puts on that hold--look, uh, dude. You're, uh, a very scary representation of my fears and worst qualities and all. Appreciate that. Next time I need to do a diss track, I don't know, maybe I'll invite you? First you've got to stop appearing solely to make my life worse, though. Bring me a cookie or something. I don't know, whatever demons do."

I'm not a demon, I'm a Shadow. We're different, Helsknight says. ...I'll think about it.

When Wels turns the next corner, Helsknight has vanished again. Wels stops in the middle of the street, looks around, confirms the specter has vanished, and then bursts out laughing.

"What the Hels," he says, somehow feeling lighter and more bemused than before. That's a new feeling with his doppleganger. Then, he goes to visit Big Wood. While Doc definitely isn't playing the song of his own accord, Wels figures that Beef just might, and given the day he's having, that would feel like a kind of irony Wels isn't sure how to describe. Besides, he wants to see if Doc will notice if Wels sets the song on loop or something. What can he say--the man's reactions to being taunted are spectacular, and Wels loves seeing them. Call it a bad quality of his or something.

#hermitcraft #welsknight #helsknight #a bee fic #hermitfic #unreality #LOOK MAN I HAD TO.#...APPARENTLY.#i put slightly too much thought into what is effectively A Dumb Bit. i mean not the rap. this fic. this fic is the dumb bit.#i mean the rap is a dumb bit too but not the one i put too much thought into. the fic is #YOU KNOW WHAT NEVERMIND THIS JUST CONFUSED THIS FURTHER. anyway that helsknight huh.

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greynatomy · 6 months

Text

perfect

alessia russo x reader

based on this and this request.

———

You were currently seven months pregnant. And you were miserable. Alessia, your wife, has been amazing through the whole journey.

Like right now, you woke up in the middle of the night after feeling some pain in your back. Unable to fall asleep, you carefully got out of your wife’s grip and exited the bedroom. You went to the living room, seeing a bit of a mess and started to clean up.

Back in the bedroom, Alessia stirs in her sleep and reaches out to the other side of the bed for you only to find it empty. The space was still slightly warm meaning you got out just recently. She gets out of the bed, shivering when her bare feet touches the cold floor and makes her way out. Entering the living room, she finds you with a duster, dusting anything and everything you could reach. She leans against the hallway wall, arms folded over her chest.

“Hey, honey. What are you doing?”

“Ugh! Don’t even get me started.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

“If you can somehow get this baby out of me.”

Alessia pushes off the wall and walks towards you.

“Can I try something?” You feel her standing behind you, her breath fanning against your ear sending shivers down your spine. You can only let out a hum of confirmation, too flustered to know how to use words.

Her arms move to wrap themselves around your waist, hands coming under your bump.

“What are you doing?”

“Shh. Just lean on me.” Her voice soft, you comply, turning your head to breathe in her scent.

She intertwines her hands together under your bump, slowly and carefully lifts your stomach up. Immediately you let out a sigh, relieved at the weight being taken from you.

“Oh, I could marry you all over again.”

She holds your stomach for about a minute, pressing light kisses all over your neck and shoulders.

“I’m gonna put it down slowly now.” She does, making you release a groan. “Think you can come back to bed?”

“Mmhm.”

A few days later, Alessia had gotten home late. She expected you to be asleep, but she found you awake sitting at the dining room table, laptop open and papers sprawled over.

“Baby? Why are you still up?” She asks, moving to stand behind you, hands massaging your shoulders.

You sigh, not taking your eyes off the screen.

“There’s still so much to do.”

“Well, when do you need them done by?”

“Uh, Thursday.”

“Babe. You have like a week to get it done. You’re working too much.”

“I just wanna get ahead.”

Being with you for years, Alessia knows one way to get you to stop working. Grabbing her phone, she connects it to the speakers around the house.

You look away from the screen, hearing the familiar song, a favorite of yours.

Perfect by Ed Sheeran

“May I have this dance?”

You accept her hand that she held out for you. She pulls you as close to her as she could, minding your belly. It’s was silent bar the music. Alessia takes the lead, swaying to the melody.

“You really shouldn’t be overworking yourself, amore mio. It’s not good for you and the baby.”

You sigh into her neck. “I know. I just want to get everything done before she comes.”

“And you will. Just give yourself some more breaks. I want the baby to be healthy, but I want my wife to be healthy as well.”

Well, I found a woman, stronger than anyone I know She shares my dreams, I hope that someday I'll share her homeI found a lover, to carry more than just my secrets To carry love, to carry children of our own

“Feel like watching a film with me?”

“Depends. Which film?”

“Tangled?”

“Oh, baby. If you think I was bad watching that before I was pregnant, wait and see after. These hormones got me acting up.”

“And I’ll have a box of tissues ready for you.”

She pulls away from the dance, hands coming up to cup your cheeks as the song ends, giving you a passionate kiss. It makes you tear up.

Pulling away from the kiss, she goes back to hold you, her warm breath fanning over your ear as she sings you the last line.

You look perfect tonight.

#woso x reader #greynatomy #woso #woso imagines #woso imagine #alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #engwnt x reader

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cupid-styles · 9 months

Text

come on, disco queen*

Word count: 6,200+

70s!Harry and virgin fmc!! Enjoy disco bbs 🪩🍒💌🔮🫶🏼🩷

Smut CWs: dirty talk, talk of anal, fingering, squirting, fmc being a pillow princess hehe

—

Daisy's limbs are haphazardly thrown askew over the length of the couch when Harry walks into the apartment he shares with his sister, Willow.

He resists the urge to roll his eyes at her appearance; her stature barely covered in a crocheted halter top and a hopelessly tiny pair of denim shorts. She's barefoot, eyes closed and buried in the crook of her elbow. He assumes he's sleeping as he kicks his sneakers off and moseys into the kitchenette, focusing on the all-consuming dryness coating his throat and mouth.

San Diego in the middle of summer was not for the faint of heart.

She lifts her head up when her ears perk up at the sound of someone shuffling through the kitchen. She expects to see Willow, but instead is met with Harry, and huffs, dramatically tossing her head back against the woven pillow.

"Don't you have a home?" Harry finally bites, breaking the silence between the two. The only other sound echoing through the area of the apartment is the large fan Harry managed to snag with some leftover cash from his paycheck earlier this summer. Even though it's not efficient enough to cool down the entire place, it's decent at breaking down the sticky humidity.

"It's too hot to move." Daisy mutters. He glances over, trying to ignore her uncovered midriff and the way her breasts are barely covered by the white stitches of her top. This time, he does roll his eyes — it's not that he doesn't like his sister's best friend, it's just that if she was going to hang around the apartment, especially without Willow, then maybe she could cover up just a little bit more.

"Better start pitching in for electric then," he utters between sips of lukewarm tap water. "Willow still at work?"

Daisy sits up now, her long brown hair mussed by what Harry can only assume is an afternoon of laying down on his couch. She nods, blinking her eyes slowly as they adjust to the warmth of the room. It was one of Harry's favorite parts of the apartment — the way the sun hit in the late afternoon, effectively making it glow.

"Yeah. I think she swapped shifts with the pregnant girl she works with so she went in later. Think she said something about being home around 10 tonight?"

Harry nods as he finishes his glass of water, giving it a quick rinse and placing it on the dish towel they used for drying.

"You sticking around then?" he asks, leaning his hip against the refrigerator and crossing his arms over his chest. Daisy shrugs and glances up at the clock, her eyebrows raising slightly when she reads the time.

"Was thinking about hitting the record store before they close. I wanted to grab that new Fleetwood Mac album. I haven't been able to get that one song out of my head since I heard it on the radio the other day — you can go your own way, or something?"

Harry nods knowingly. He'd been a fan of Fleetwood since they release their last album and had been first in line to snag their most recent.

"Rumours, yeah?" He asks, and Daisy lights up, her eyes wide, "I have it. There's this one incredible song — "Dreams" — and it's all Stevie. The lyrics are amazing."

"Really?"

"Yeah," Harry replies, "I'm surprised you didn't already snag it when it came out."

Daisy works at the local record store which, if Harry's being completely honest, is kind of his dream job. He thinks it's really cool that she gets to check out all the newest music and has first dibs on albums, even if their music taste differed sometimes — he tended to lean more towards Led Zeppelin, while Daisy favored Donna Summer.

"It's been sold out for ages," Daisy says with a shrug, "I swear, there was a week where it was the only record I sold."

Harry chuckles at that and opens the refrigerator, reaching in to grab a can of Miller.

"You want one? I moved the player into my room 'cos of that party Willow threw a few weeks ago, when that kid almost ralphed all over it," Harry rolls his eyes, "We can listen to it in there, if you want."

Admittedly, Daisy is taken aback just a tad. She's been hanging around Willow for the past few years — she's originally from the Pacific Northwest and moved out to San Diego shortly after graduating high school, chasing a pipe dream on the tail end of '60s-fueled free love, only to find a major culture change in the early '70s.

The war out in Vietnam had created a ton of tension and, on her second day here, she spent the morning at a diner, her green eyes widened and glued to the hazy television reporting on the latest death count. She rolled her eyes when an older man huffed past her, mumbling something under his breath about being a sensitive hippie — she wasn't, she just had a compassionate heart — but she felt slightly seen when one of the waitresses sat down in the booth next to her, coffee pot in her hand, her own face crawling with horror.

They sat there in silence as the local news anchor read off the names of American soldiers that had passed in combat.

"'s heartbreaking, isn't it?"

Daisy turned to look at the waitress, a tanned, fresh-faced girl with curly brown hair.

"Totally freaky," Daisy sighed out with a shake of her head.

"You know anyone out there?" The girl asked, nudging her chin the direction of the television. Daisy was fortunate; she'd known a few guys from high school that had been unlucky enough to get drafted shortly after their 17th birthday, but that was it.

"No, thankfully not. You?"

The waitress pursed her lips, "No. My brother would've gotten picked for sure if he was an American citizen. Lucky for us, we're still working on the whole immigration thing. Brits and whatever."

"That's a trip." Daisy breathed, and the girl nodded.

"Totally." She stood from the booth and reached over to refill Daisy's coffee cup. "Are you new to town?"

"What, the duffel give it away?" Daisy smirked, making the girl laugh out loudly.

"Far out. Do you have a place to stay? You seem nifty, my brother and I have some room if you need a couch to crash on."

The rest, she supposes, is history.

Daisy only stayed at Harry and Willow's place for a month or so before nabbing a job at Sam's Records. Thanks to their generosity, she was able to save up to snag a small loft in the neighborhood, but she was happy.

She was especially happy when she was around Harry, too.

He didn't express a huge interest in Daisy, and she soon found out it was because he was a casanova of sorts. He worked hard, enough to maintain the apartment and pay the bulk of the rent and bills, but he was constantly bringing girls back for quickies. Willow would roll her eyes and gag, Daisy would ignore the twinge of jealousy in her heart.

So that's why she's a little surprised when Harry makes an offer to actually hang out without Willow. They normally ignore each other or make small talk until Willow gets home from work or relieves them of their awkward conversation. They haven't really spent too much time together one-on-one in the five years Daisy's been in San Diego.

But she's not foolish enough to let this opportunity to waste — it'd be a lie if she said she wasn't just a little bit attracted to Harry. Besides, with the amount of people he hooked up with, she as undeniably curious about what he had to offer.

"Yeah, sounds groovy," Daisy replies, standing from the couch and stretching her achy limbs out. She swears she catches Harry's eyes linger a little too long on the swell of her breasts beneath her top, but quickly convinces herself otherwise as he digs in the fridge for another beer. She follows him into his bedroom, a space that Daisy could recall being in only twice before: Once, a few days into her initial stay here when she was high off a few bong hits and thought she was walking into Willow's room, only to be met with a strawberry blonde straddling Harry's lap, mid-makeout (she'd quickly stammered and shut the door closed before Harry's eyes could even flutter open), and another time, with Willow, when she was looking for her Elton John record.

Both times, Daisy hadn't taken much of his room into view, instead feeling equally awkward and uncomfortable that she was there without his actual invitation. So when Harry places the two beer cans on his nightstand and strides over to his record player to turn Rumours on, she peeks at the little details of his space — a myriad of Polaroid photographs, some of friends, some with friends, some of people she didn't recognize. A stack of worn paperback books with swollen spines next to his bed, and Daisy feels her eyes widen when she notices Betty Friedan's The Feminine Mystique on top. She knew Harry was liberal and kind and all, but she never expected to find feminist theory literature in his room.

She's taking in the tacked up band posters covering the walls when the soundly crackle of vinyl fills the room. Harry turns with a cheeky smile on his lips as he places the record insert back in its sleeve, then nudges his chin in the direction of the sweaty, unopened cans of Miller.

"I heard they're supposed to play LA sometime this fall," Harry finally breaks the silence as Daisy hands him his can, the two of them cracking them open. She lifts hers to her lips and takes down greedy gulps, partially because of the heat but mainly because of Harry.

"Oh, right on," Daisy replies, shifting her stance from foot to foot. "I think I'm gonna try to hit that ABBA show next month in downtown SF."

Harry wrinkles his nose at her response as he sits on the edge of the bed, wordlessly encouraging Daisy to do the same. She does, albeit hesitantly, and with enough distance between them.

"That's a mighty drive for some disco," he teases, though there's a hint of seriousness to his commentary, "You going with someone decent?"

Daisy shrugs, "Willow was into it but she probably can't take off from work. I might ask that guy Warren I work with, he said he'd be down if he could get some good sales out of it."

Harry raises his eyebrows and quickly shakes his head between sips. "No way Jose, you're not making an eight hour drive to SF with a coke dealer."

Harry wasn't hugely into discos, but he was a frequent flyer when it came to tagging along with Willow and Daisy to ensure they were safe. As far as he knew, Daisy didn't dabble in coke all too much, even if it ran rampant in the nightclubs they attended.

"But if I don't go who knows when I'll be able to see them again—"

"I'll go with you," Harry blurts out before he can fathom the thought of a 16-hour drive, round trip, for a bubblegum group he doesn't even like. "Fuck Warren, he's good for nothing but drugs."

"Harry, you hate ABBA," Daisy rolls her eyes. "I'll be fine, really."

"Who says I hate ABBA?"

"You literally yell at us to turn it off every time we put Arrival on."

Harry shrugs his shoulders and leans back against the neat array of pillows, tucking his arms behind his head. "It's me or it's a no-go, disco queen."

She sighs and shakes her head before leaning back on her elbows, her palm pressed tightly against the condensation of the can. "Please, there's no way you would want to sit in a car with me for that long."

"Where'd you get that idea from?" Harry asks with furrowed eyebrows, pressing his lips into a thin line. Daisy's quiet for a moment, churning a reply in her head that doesn't offend him or make her sound dumb.

"You just... I'm your sister's friend, you know? I know you probably don't dig me too much, and that's fine, but you don't have to go out of your way for me just because I don't have anyone else to go with."

"What makes you think I don't dig you?" Harry pushes, making Daisy sigh.

"It's nothing, forget it," she mumbles, finishing off her beer, "Thanks for this, the album's righteous, I'll pick it up at my next shift."

Harry's scrambling to stop her as she walks out to the living room and shuffling her shoes on. Dreams sounds from his bedroom, the song he was most excited to show her, and it only drives his actions further, her words echoing and gnawing into his heart.

"Daisy, stop," he tries, grasping out to wrap his fingers around her wrist, "Stop— just, talk to me, will you? C'mon, I— I don't know where you got that from, I think you're really stellar, Dais."

Daisy looks up at him, momentarily glancing down to hand around her wrist before shifting her wide eyes back to his. "You don't have to be like this, I gotta head home anyway—"

"You don't," Harry shakes his head, stepping closer to her, invading her space as she backs against the front door. "You've been jiving here all day, you don't have to go home. Don't lie to me."

Daisy lets out a frustrated sigh at his pushy nature, but not before she's entirely too distracted by his musky scent and the way his palm is pushed against the wall, right next to her head, making his bicep flex just slightly. She watches as his tongue peeks out and he licks over his lips, waiting for her to break. If it had been anyone else in the world, she would've done everything she could to remove herself from the situation, go home, and soak in the bath while she beat herself up about being too awkward, not sociable enough.

But this is Harry. And Daisy can't, even if she desperately wants to, say no to him.

So she huffs and darts her eyes back to his bedroom, making an annoyed gesture with her hands that signaled what she really wanted to say: c'mon then, dipshit, let's go talk.

Harry's smirking as Daisy kicks her shoes back off, a triumphant puff to his chest. When they return, he closes the door just gently enough to where she wouldn't have noticed if she weren't hyper aware of his every action.

"Right, then," Harry says, sitting down across from Daisy on the bed, who now has her legs criss-cross-applesauce. He follows her lead and allows for her a decent distance between them. Daisy feels like she's having an awkward first kiss with someone via spin the bottle, but she quickly bats the thought of kissing Harry away. "Why don't you think I like you?"

"Because," Daisy sighs, reaching up to cover her warm face with her hands, "I'm just Willow's annoying friend, you know? Always in your way and at your place, drinking your beer and listening to your records."

"Where did you even get that idea?" Harry asks with furrowed brows, shaking his head. "I don't think you're annoying, and I don't care that you hang here, with or without Willow. You can drink all my fuckin' beer or listen to my records until they scratch."

Daisy blushes at that. He's never outwardly declared any type of fondness towards her, friendly or not.

"You just... always seem so peeved when you come out with us to the discos and stuff," Daisy admits, shrugging lightly, "I feel like you think you have to babysit me or something."

Harry chuckles with a shake of his head. "You're a trip, you know that?" His question is rhetorical, so she continues sitting there, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. "Yeah, I wanna make sure you guys are being safe and no, I don't love disco or boogieing down the way you lot do. But I'm never peeved about hanging with you, Dais. I'm sorry if I did something to make you feel that way, but I promise, you're more to me than Willow's friend."

Daisy's eyes finally meet his. Harry notices the faint blush that blossoms over her cheeks, and he can't help the way his lips turn upward in the smallest tick, his heart expanding ever so slightly at the sight.

"That's nice of you," she eventually mumbles out, blinking slowly. He chuckles quietly and shrugs, murmuring out, "yeah, I guess."

Side A of Rumours is long over now; the only noise sounding through the room is the repeated spin of the vinyl, over and over again. Daisy glances over to the record player, her bottom lip dropping open.

"You should— you should stop that," she says, "It'll scratch the record."

Harry smirks. He watches as she cowers slightly and he notes her nervous energy, the way her anxiety radiates off of her in small waves.

"Would you get me a new one if I did?" he asks, his voice dropping to a raspy tone.

Daisy looks back at Harry, her eyes somehow seeming even wider now. "Y-yeah. If you needed it, yeah."

"Yeah?" he teases, "You're good that way, aren't you?"

"H-Harry—" Daisy's lips fold over the syllables of his name, as if she's broken herself from the spell she was under. "I... you don't have to do this. I get it, you don't think I'm annoying but... don't just try to sleep with me 'cause you feel bad for me."

Harry lets out a frustrated sigh as he backs out of her space, pressing his lips into a thin line.

"Why do you think you're some kind of charity case?" he asks with a shake of his head. "I don't feel bad for you, Daisy, and I would never take advantage of you in that way."

"You're just— you're you! And I'm me! And it doesn't make sense that you'd want anything to do with me outside of Willow! You've never acted this way before—"

"Yeah, exactly!" Harry exclaims, cutting off the words falling from Daisy's mouth. "You're my little sister's best friend, and I don't want to fuck things up between you two by doing anything stupid. I've been staying away from you for years because it's easier to do that than hurt you or her or get hurt myself if things didn't work out!"

Daisy's jaw drops open at Harry's admission, her cheeks immediately warming. She wants to cover her blush with her hands, but she can't find it in her to move, let alone tear her gaze away from his. His Adam's apple bobs in his throat as he awaits a response, so when she's at a loss for words, he huffs in frustration and shakes his head, standing from the bed.

"Forget it— just forget I fuckin' said anything," he mutters, rounding the bed to open his bedroom door, his denim bell bottoms swishing with his steps. "Go home if you need to, stick around if you want— just pretend this never happened, alright?"

"I— Harry, stop," Daisy finally musters, shaking her head as she attempts to process, "I'm not... I don't want to forget what you just said. I'm just trying to understand it."

"What else is there to understand?" He bites.

"Am I... am I wrong in assuming that you like me? Is that what you're trying to say?"

Please don't be wrong, please don't be wrong, please don't be wrong—

"Yeah. That's what I'm saying, Daisy."

The world slows just a bit — not just for Daisy, but for Harry, too. He'd never really envisioned a time where he admitted to having feelings for his little sister's best friend, but it seemed that they'd brewed and simmered for so long that they had no choice but to boil over. Daisy was just as surprised, though. She'd spent the past few years assuming that he hated her and looked at her like a naïve nuisance always taking up space.

"Can you say something?" Harry finally grumbles, and Daisy isn't aware of how long it's been since he made his confession.

"I..." her eyebrows are furrowed, confusion apparent on her face as she looks up. "Why me?" This time, he returns the same expression.

"Are you serious?" Harry echoes, "You're... you're beautiful and smart and so sweet to everyone you meet. I've seen you trip-sit more kids in this apartment than I care to count, and you didn't even know 'em all. You have good taste in music, even if it includes ABBA... you're amazing to my sister, and every time we stop into the record store and you're just sitting there, reading your books... Dais, I swear to god, you look like a goddamn angel."

A furious blush flowers over Daisy's neck and face. She'd watched Harry hookup with a constant rotation of people, all of who she felt were more attractive than her. It felt unreal to hear that he thought she was pretty and kind.

"Can I— can I kiss you?" Daisy blurts, raising to her knees, the plushy bedding of Harry's mattress digging into her legs.

"Yes. Please, Dais, kiss me."

She nods and leans forward, slow and hesitant. Their lips brush against one another and Harry reaches up to carefully caress her cheek, gently pulling her closer until finally, they make contact.

It feels as though years of tension are being translated through their kiss. Harry's quick to meld his mouth against hers, moving his lips in a careful pace. She meets him halfway with similar touches; quiet smacks of their lips moving together. With a hand on his thigh, Harry's tongue enters Daisy's mouth and he's licking at her, more eagerly now that he's gotten a taste. Daisy parts from him momentarily, but only to move over his lap and straddle his legs, her heels pressed into her bum as she wraps her arms around his neck to pull him back in for another kiss.

She feels floaty and loses herself in the warm comfort of Harry's mouth, especially when his large hands find the backs of her thighs, sliding up to her ass. She swears she's never felt so good before, until the hardness of Harry's length makes itself known, poking at her core between layers of fabric. It's just enough to rip her out of her dreamy state, and she parts with a small gasp when he involuntarily bucks his hips up, searching for some sort of friction-filled release.

"Fuck— I'm sorry," Harry mutters out through spit-slicked lips. They're a muted cherry hue now, the same color they get when he's had a few too many glasses of red wine, or when he's saying goodbye to his one night stand in the hallway.

"It's okay," Daisy mumbles. She knows it's just human biology, that it's obviously natural for guys to get hard during heated makeout sessions. It's not like she's never felt a dick before, but it's also just that — she's never actually felt a dick before. "Um, I just— can we slow down?"

"Oh, yeah, of course. You just— I'm just like... really excited, I guess, and my body... knows that."

"It's fine, Harry," Daisy peeps out, smiling softly at the blush covering his cheeks, "But, uh... I've never... been with anyone before."

"What do you mean?"

She resists the urge to roll her eyes. She had hoped that he would've caught on, but clearly she was wrong.

"I've never been with anyone."

"But I've seen you makeout with people at the disco and shit."

"Yeah, but I've never taken them home."

It takes a moment for it to click, but when it does, Harry's eyes widen and his mouth forms around an oh. Daisy feels an all-encompassing embarrassment take up her entire form — she'd disclosed this information to people in the past, and they normally scampered off because the responsibility of taking her virginity was simply too much. She understood that, truly, but it got tiring after awhile. And, let's face it — this was Harry, and she really, really didn't want to feel stupid in front of him.

"I'm... I didn't know that."

Daisy shrugs, "It's not exactly like I go around parading it."

"Well, I would hope not."

This time, Daisy does roll her eyes, and Harry smirks as she gently pushes at his shoulder. The awkwardness melts just slightly and Daisy's body relaxes.

"We don't have to do anything if you don't want to— I get that it can be a big deal for some chicks," Harry says, moving his palm to gently squeeze her hip, "But I do really like you, Daisy. And this doesn't change that."

Her heart swells in her chest and warmth envelops her belly. He has a dopey, lovesick smile on his lips — the same one he gets when he, Daisy, and Willow share a joint at the end of a night out, she notices — and she knows her face looks just as silly, if not more so.

"I like you too," she murmurs, reaching out to run her fingertips along the length of his jaw. She traces over his slightly scruffy beard, which she knows is a day or two overgrown. She trails up to the mustache covering his upper lip, the one Willow always complains about and says makes him look like a homeless hippie, but Daisy secretly adores. She ends at his lips, gently pulling at his bottom one to form a puppy's pout. Playfully, he nips at her fingertip and she giggles.

She doesn't retract her finger and instead presses her thumb between his swollen lips. He allows her to it, readily and openly, the digit laying flat against his tongue before he wraps his lips around it, sucking down softly.

"Oh," she breathes, feeling his tongue lazily swirl around her thickest finger. Daisy's core flutters at the image; the way his cheeks are hallowed out ever so slightly, a perfect picture of submission beneath her.

"We don't have to do anything if you don't want to," Harry whispers. She doesn't know how long she's been in his bed on top of his lap, but she assumes it's been awhile with the way golden hour is soaking every inch of his bedroom. She's slow in her movements, with the way she removes her finger from his mouth and, instead of climbing off like he'd expected her to, trails her hand below her crocheted top, brushing her spit-covered thumb over her nipple.

"Oh, fuck."

Daisy's head lulls to the side as she plays with herself, her nipple slowly hardening between her fingertips. Harry can barely see anything through the white crocheted vest, just peaks of flesh and the warm-toned hues of her nipples, and his jaw has still managed to go slack as he watches her with parted lips. She's a real life wet dream, he's sure of it.

"Dais..." Harry sighs as she lifts her hand to her mouth, wetting her fingers only to travel back down to give her other nipple the same treatment, "Lemme see? Please, baby, I'm desperate."

Daisy hums at his admission. It's hard to ignore the electricity that zips through her belly at the word baby, but she tries to keep her cool, even if she has no idea what she's doing. Slowly, she lifts her arms and ditches her torso of the netted material, allowing the breeze coming from the fan to only harden her nipples even further.

"Can I touch?" He asks, his eyes flickering up to hers for consent, "You can dictate the pace, lemme know what you're comfortable with but— 'm gonna die if I can't touch your pretty tits, Dais."

Daisy nods, her words stuck in her throat from Harry's boldness. He's quick to duck beneath her form as a surprised yelp tumbles from her lips, but it's quickly replaced with a whimper as he attaches his mouth to her nipple. He's sucking and licking, going back and forth between each one, his large hands gripping harshly at her hips. She's struggling to keep still but it's especially difficult when he nips at the sensitive buds, his teeth supplying the most delicious and quick licks of pain.

"Harry, I—"

His head snaps at up the second his name leaves her throat, immediately removing his lulling tongue from the patches of skin he'd been obsessing over.

"What's wrong?" Harry asks, panicked. She shakes her head and breathes out tensely as she pathetically tries to roll her hips against his; an attempt to showcase her communication better, but he's reluctant in accepting it.

"Words, bub," he instructs, reaching up to cradle her jaw in his palm, "Are you okay?"

"Good," Daisy bobs her head, "Feels good. I— more, please?"

Her words are a jumbled mess as they float from her brain to her mouth. She knows she must sound borderline high but Harry doesn't tease, instead sliding his hand down to the waistband of her denim shorts, his palm flush against her tummy.

"What do you want?"

She swallows. She's hooked up with people before, gotten fingered and given a few blowies, but she's never been asked to verbalize her needs. It makes her flush with embarrassment as her jaw opens and closes dumbly, unsure of what she's even requesting of Harry.

"I don't know," she finally breathes, hitching her bottom lip between her teeth. "I'm sorry. No one's ever asked me what I want before, I don't have as much experience as you—"

"Shush," Harry's quick to shut her up with a shake of his head. "I don't want you to feel bad about that. I just want to make sure I'm not pushing you too far. You get to decide, this is your body."

Daisy leans into Harry's grasp, pressing her cheek against his hand.

"Here, why don't you tell me where I can touch you?" he suggests, moving his other palm back up to her breasts, "Are you still alright here?"

She nods, gasping as he pinches her nipple between his fingers. His hands travel down to the swell of her ass, cupping her cheeks firmly.

"And what about here?"

"Mhm." her eyes flutter when he squeezes, a moan bubbling in her throat.

He keeps one hand on her bum as he uses the other to trail featherlight touches along the inside of her thigh, up to her core. She can feel her hole squeezing around nothing, a steady thumping buzzing through her clit, and she whimpers when he cups her pussy through her shorts.

"Is this okay, baby?"

Daisy nods, her breath quickening at the sensation. "You— you can take them off," she says in a moment of courage, "Want you to touch me there."

"Ah," Harry smirks as he unbuttons the denim, dragging the zipper down. "You want me to touch your little pussy, is that it?"

She whines as he budges her up just far enough to shimmy the material down her legs. She's not wearing the sexiest of underwear — just a plain cotton pair in a light blue — but Harry still licks his lips at the sight of the damp patch flowering over her hole, where he's desperate to feel.

"Has anyone ever touched you down here?"

"Yes," she mumbles, bucking her hips against his hand. His thumb is drawing light circles into her clit, not enough to satiate her need for him, instead providing a semblance of sensation.

"Do you ever do it?" he questions, moving his finger down to her hole. She's clenching with need as he gently pushes a finger in through the fabric. He's not fingering her, not even close; just making her whimper with need at the thought of what she could have if she answers him.

"Sometimes, yes," Daisy nods.

"What do you do?"

"I, um," she licks over her swollen lips, attempting to focus on his question as he dips in again. "I rub my clit... sometimes I put a finger in."

"Is that all it takes to make you cum?" his tone is teasing now, making her feel embarrassed.

"Usually."

"Usually?" he raises a brow, "What else do you do to make this pretty pussy cum?"

Daisy swallows loudly. "Sometimes... if I'm really turned on, I'll touch myself... lower."

"Lower?" Harry repeats, unsure if he's understanding her correctly. "Like...?"

"Yeah."

A devilish smirks takes over his face as he moves one of his hands to cup her ass again, this time squeezing even tighter.

"Is that why you moan so loud when I grab you here?"

She nods, ducking her head back in pleasure. Just the feeling of being slightly stimulated in both places is nearly enough to get here there, not to mention it's Harry doing the touching.

"And who taught you that?" he asks as he pushes the material of her underwear down her thighs.

"Um, a guy I hooked up with once," Daisy murmurs, sitting up slightly. She's naked now, still on top of him, while he remains in his work clothes from earlier today. Her pussy is bare to his wandering eye and he can't help the way he takes in her most intimate parts.

"And you liked it when he toyed with your cute bum?" Harry continues his relentless teasing much to Daisy's dismay, who is all but squirming with need. He relieves some of the consuming pressure in her stomach by taking his fingers between her pussy lips, spreading them to expose her clit. He lightly runs his fingertip over the sensitive nub and she shivers, nodding her head.

"He just... licked me there while he was going down on me," Daisy explains with fluttered eyes, "And the next time I played with myself I put a finger in... made me feel dirty but so good."

"Jesus, you really are a dirty little girl, hm?"

Apparently, Harry feels that she's answered enough of his questions and deserves a reward. She lets out a hearty moan when he applies more pressure to her clit, starting in tight, small circles. She's glistening for him and making a mess between her thighs, making Harry's mouth water just at the sight.

"You're a drippy mess," he mutters as he squeezes her bum. He lowers his hand downward to where she's aching the most, circling twice and dipping in to spread her wetness around. He uses his other hand to continue rubbing at her pearly clit as he pushes his finger in, his jaw dropping at the sight of Daisy arching her back and whimpering on top of him. "Fuckin' gorgeous girl."

Harry starts off at a tantalizing pace but when he sees how responsive she is to every little touch — well, he's only human, and he can't help but want to get her to her breaking point as quickly as possible. He's not sure if anyone she's hooked up with has ever cared to make her cum before, but with the way she's grinding down against his hand and palming at her own breasts, he thinks anyone that had a chance to see her like this and didn't is an absolute fool.

"Are you gonna cum for me, sweetheart?" Harry asks. He can feel her tightening around the finger that's currently deep inside of her, poking and prodding at that special spot with each thrust. She's so wet that he's positive there's a wet spot on his work pants but he couldn't care less.

"Y-yes," Daisy nods helplessly, bouncing up and down as he pushes a second finger into her opening. It's a slight stretch, but nothing she can't take, that much is clear.

"Such a good girl, Daisy," he mutters mainly to himself, "Can't believe I went this long without feeling you squeeze my fingers like this... be my good girl and cum for me, baby, let me see you."

The squelching sound of his fingers rapidly moving against her are a telltale sign that she's at her end, but it's the slight gush around his hand and her throaty moans that stick with him. He watches in awe as she squirts on his fingers, helping her through her orgasm, her muscles contracting quickly.

"Fuck," Harry utters, "You're absolutely filthy. Been hiding this from me for years, hm?"

Daisy's eyes have long since fluttered closed as she comes down from her peak, so Harry does the only thing he can think of. Gently removing his fingers from her, he hooks an arm around her to keep her steady before lifting his hand to his mouth and finally having a taste of her arousal.

"Harry," Daisy breathes when she sees him, her eyes slightly widened at the visual beneath her.

"You taste incredible, Dais."

Without thinking, she leans forward and messily melds their lips together, her tongue prodding into his mouth. He welcomes it and groans at her eagerness. They part a minute or so later, both with spit swollen lips.

"I think I'm addicted to you, Daisy Walker."

Part two | Part three | Series masterlist

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cillian-gets-me-wetter · 2 months

Text

right side of my neck - lip gallagher x fem!reader

warning: angst and fluff, yearning, cheating??? (just kissing) exes who always find their back to each other, allusions to sex, groping

disclaimer: i do not own any characters mentioned in this story. this is for fictional purposes only. do not copy or claim any of my work as your own.

a/n: i’ve been posting super frequently, my bad y’all. based off the song, right side of my neck by faye webster, takes place during season 3 (mandy, don’t run me over pls), comments, reblogs and constructive feedback are appreciated!! 🩷🎀

summary: you and lip gallagher had a tumultuous history. while you were ian’s best friend, a relationship (if you can consider it that) with the older gallagher brother was the last thing you expected. you two stop seeing each other when not long after, he starts dating mandy milkovich. after they get into a fight, he’s at your doorstep, needing a place to stay and wanting to talk things out.

here are resources for supporting palestine and gaza 🇵🇸

masterlist

italics and bold: the past

unedited: present day

“The right side of my neck still smells like you”

you were unwinding from the day, deciding to do your nightly reading in the living room. your parents were both at work so you had the house to yourself for the evening. your cat, persimmon, was curled up in your lap as you were lost in your book until a knock brought you back into reality.

you gently set persimmon to the side as you got up from the couch and walking over to the door. you opened the door carefully and to your surprise, lip gallagher was standing there. you couldn’t help but roll your eyes and sigh, “look, lip, i really don’t want to argue at this time of night.” the “relationship” you had with the older gallagher brother was questionable at best in the most recent years.

you were born on the south side, meeting ian in kindergarten and being attached at the hip since. so whenever you and ian hung out together, lip was there. you basically became one of the family as you grew up along side of them as both of your parents worked all of the time. as the three of you got older, puberty and rising teen angst became a threshold.

with high school, financial struggles and inadequate situation ships piling one on top of another, you found yourself in the arms of the older gallagher after being stood up on date and you happened to bump into him in midst of taking the l home, offering a joint and his company to help cope with the shitty night.

while you two talked about what happened as well as his past with karen as you smoked the joint he had as well as few bowls from the bong and weed you stole from one of your past hookups, he sets his hand on your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. you quickly straddled his lap, giving him a passionate kiss, starting an ongoing on and off and not so secretive situation-ship.

it was supposed only an outlet of releasing stress and escaping from reality for a bit. as you two continued to hook up, your feelings inevitably became a barrier and a burden for him to carry. you decided to express how you feel and not to your surprise, he didn’t take it well, resulting in an argument and him deciding that he didn’t want to continue leading you on towards something he wasn’t capable of giving to you.

not long after you two stop seeing each other, he soon starts dating mandy milkovich, another girl that is in the same grade as you and ian. seeing them together and him having her over in your second home made your blood boil. he clearly knew how angry you were but acted unscathed, resulting in constant bickering between the two of you and ian having to be the mediator as well as the venting outlet for how you two felt towards each other.

tension between you and the new couple grew so bad that you began to stop frequently going over to the gallagher home and avoiding ian and the others altogether. the family missed your presence and having you around. lip missed you being there even though you couldn’t tell through his cold, tough exterior.

his face and heart dropped at the sudden accusation, his chest ached knowing that things between the two of you didn’t so well and that your relationship wasn’t in the best place. he looked down at his beat up old shoes and back at you, “i didn’t come here to argue. i don’t have anywhere else to go and you were the first person that came to my mind. can i come in?”

your eyes softened at the rare side you were seeing of lip. the last time you saw him being vulnerable with you was when he discovered that he wasn’t the father of karen’s son, hymie. you remembered that he was looking forward to being a father and wanting to be different than his own. the night he came back from hospital, he showed up at your window, crawling in bed with you and laying on your chest.

“the baby wasn’t mine. when he was born, he looked nothing like me.” you ran your fingers through his hair soothingly. “are you okay?” what else can you really say to someone after they find out or witness that? he shook his head. “i don’t want to talk about it anymore. i just want to lay here with you and forget for awhile.” you nod understandably and kiss the top of his head gently. “i’m here if you need anything, lip.” he took in a deep breath and exhaled, “i know. you always have been.”

you nod, moving out of the doorway and watching him enter your home, taking off his shoes and leaving his coat on the hanging rack. you shut and locked the door behind you, “you can make yourself comfortable. do you want anything to drink?” he walked over to the couch and sat where you were previously sitting. “uh, whatever you have is fine with me.”

you walk out of the living room and into the kitchen, grabbing two cans of cold coca-cola out of the fridge, internally thanking your mom for being able to afford majority of the essentials while grocery shopping. you shut the fridge door and walk back into the living room, seeing persimmon happily purring in lip’s lap while he was softly petting her orange fur. you knew that lip never grew up having pets but he took a liking to the tabby cat.

the feeling being mutual as she grew accustomed to lip’s weekly visits and sleepovers. you sat down on the other side of the couch next to him, setting the two cans on the set of coasters on the coffee table. he grabbed his can, cracking it open and taking a few sips, setting it down next to yours. he cleared his throat awkwardly, “how have you been?”

you shrug, “i’m okay. just been busy with my classes and everything.” he nodded understandably, “you haven’t came over in a while.. it seems like you’re avoiding everyone.” you ask, “are you speaking for everyone or is it just you?” he looked away nervously, “i mean like the family hasn’t seen you in a while. debs and carl ask about you all the time.”

you smiled softly, reminiscing helping out with the younger ones, whether it was keeping them entertained or helping out with homework. debbie and carl enjoyed spending time with you whenever you came over and weren’t upstairs with ian or lip. “i miss them a lot, i’m sorry i haven’t been around.. it’s just that-” he encouraged you, “you can say it..”

you let out a shaky breath, “it’s just that it’s hard seeing you with her.. so i just have been keeping my distance.” he sighs, “i know this hasn’t been easy for you and i’m sorry for that but it doesn’t mean you have to avoid everyone because of me.” you shook your head, “you don’t understand, lip..” he retorts, “what don’t i understand?”

you sit with your legs crossed on the couch next to him, “your house was a safe place for me.. it was somewhere where i felt like i had an actual family to go home to instead of being alone. when you started inviting her over, it felt like i was intruding.” he shook his head in protest, “you never intruded on anything..” you cut him off, “yeah i was.. it was so awkward and hurtful just seeing her be in the same place i was in.”

he asks, “like you would see me kiss her and she’d be there in my room wearing my clothes and you would think about how it was before?” you nod embarrassed of being this exposed to him despite him basically seeing everything physically but emotionally and internally, it was another can of worms to deal with and you didn’t want to push him away because of how you feel towards him, which was what happened anyway.

he nods again, attempting to grasp everything you feel about the current state of their downfall. he pulled out a cigarette out of the pack in his pocket as well as the lighter, sparking it and taking a long drag. he exhaled the smoke out of his mouth, handing it over to you, you holding it and taking your own drag. he said, “me and mandy got into a fight tonight and she was staying in my room so i just left the house before she did and came here.”

you exhale the smoke out of your nose and mouth, handing the cigarette back to him. you ask, “what did you guys fight about?” he looked over at you as he took another drag, “it was about you actually..” your eyes slightly widened, why were they arguing about you and what was the argument about in the first place? you laugh slightly, not knowing how to react to what he said.

you look over at him as he hands back the cigarette, “why did you guys argue about me?” he sighs, “well, ian was talking to me about how he hasn’t seen or heard from you and asked me if anything else happened between us?” you nod, “what did you say to him?” he shrugged, “i told him that you said you have feelings for me and that i didn’t handle it well and i guess debs overheard and asked if you and i dated in front of everyone at dinner so mandy was angry and she kept prying about everything that happened between us.”

you sighed, burying your face in your hands. the last thing you needed was mandy milkovich sending her minions after you, you two already didn’t get along well enough and the drama being over a guy is pitiful and demeaning to fathom. he set his hand on your back, “she’s not going to do anything to you. i’ll make sure of it.”

you uncover your face, “i’m not intimidated by her. i just don’t to be involved in any drama, especially over a guy.” you nervously rubbed your face, dreading going to school the next day, knowing her and her friends would possibly be there talking about what happened with you and lip. he asks, “do you regret doing anything with me?”

you shook your head, “no. i mean i have my regrets in life but i wouldn’t consider anything we did one of them.. i think it’s just apart of life.” he nods, “i never thought of it that way. before you ask though, i don’t regret anything we did either. i regret the way i’ve been acting lately towards you and i’m sorry for that.” you shrugged and rested your head on his shoulder, “you don’t have to apologize, i’m just glad you’re here.”

he smiled softly at you, “i’m glad you let me in.” you lifted your head up to look at him, “you’re always welcome here, lip.” he kissed your cheek and pulled you into a warm embrace, you laid your head on his chest as he wrapped his arm around you. he kissed your forehead as you laid your legs on his lap, pulling you close to him. you both sat in a comfortable silence for what felt like eternity until he eventually broke it, “do you remember that time we got drunk at the park instead of going to prom last year?”

you laughed softly, “i remembered that as if it happened yesterday..”before the junior year prom, you had been asked by jared, a popular guy in your class but he ended up ditching you for another girl that night. lip decided to sit out until you called him crying. he dropped everything and met you at a local park near his house, bringing a bottle of vodka that you both shared together. he said, “do you know what that night made me realize?”

you tilt your head in curiosity to hear what he was going to say. he continued, “it made me realize how much i love you.” your eyes widened slightly as your mouth fell agape, you felt your heart skip a beat and wanting to leap out of your chest.

“lip, i need to tell you something..” you both laid in his bed under the covers after hooking up for the second time that night. he lit a cigarette as you laid on his chest, coming down from your climaxes. he took a deep inhale as he let the smoke absorb in his lungs as he exhales, watching his chest rise and fall as you lay on top of him.

he asked, “what is it?” you sighed nervously, “i don’t think i can hold back anymore, lip…” he looked down at you as he smoked, “what are you talking about?” you looked away from him, petrified of what he was going to say or think about you. “i don’t want to just hook up with you anymore.. i want something more.” he sighed, and put out the cigarette in the ashtray next to him, rubbing his face in frustration. “are you saying what i think you’re saying?”

you nodded, “yeah.” he shook his head, “i can’t date you.. you saw how things went with karen.” you sighed, “yeah but this is different.. i genuinely have feelings for you, lip. and i wouldn’t do anything to hurt you.” he looked at you, “you don’t understand.. i’m not good at being with anybody. i’m not this version of me you created in your head. you wouldn’t like dating me..”

you shook your head, “we can take things slow.. i just want to be with you..” he said, “i can’t give you what you want.. i’m really sorry.” you nodded, getting out of bed and putting back on your clothes. he sighed, “are you really leaving?” your voice cracked tearfully, “there’s no reason we should keep doing this.. i love you and you don’t want me..” he retorted, “it’s not that i don’t want you, it’s just that i’m not a good person to be with..”

you bit back, “you want me on your terms and i can’t do it anymore. i’m just going to go home. don’t call or text me..” he got up and placed his hands on your shoulders, “just stay the night.. it’s really late and i don’t want you walking home.” you shook your head, “i just want to go home.. please.” he nodded sadly, moving his hands away from you and out of your way. you grabbed your bag off of his floor and walked out of the room, heading down the stairs as tears streamed down your face.

you stumbled over your words, “you love me?” he nodded, “i do.. and i’m sorry for not telling you sooner.” you said, “but i thought you couldn’t give me what i wanted..” he sighed, “i got scared. i thought that if we did date, it wouldn’t have ended well between us and you mean so much to me that i don’t want that to happen.” you said, “i still mean what i said back then. i wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, lip.” he smiled softly, “i know you wouldn’t. and i wouldn’t do anything to hurt you..”

you both stared at each other, smiling softly as he cupped your cheeks and leaned in, closing the distance. his lips pressed softly against yours, you immediately kissed him back while your hand found its place at the back of his head. your fingers ran through his shaggy dirty blonde hair as he lets out a light moan into your mouth, you pull away slowly as the kiss attempts to grow more intense. he looked at you concerned if he did something wrong, “is everything okay?”

you nodded, “everything’s fine.. i was just wondering what you’re going to do about mandy?” he sighed, “i have no idea yet. i just want to spend the rest of tonight with you. is that okay?” you nod eagerly, “of course. you might have to kiss me again though for me to fully agree.” he laughed softly, “come here then.”

he pulls you back into him, his lips touching yours fiercely as he slips his tongue in your mouth. you both moan softly as your tongues explore each other’s mouths, your hands wandering into his shirt as he takes off his jacket and throws it to the floor.

you straddle his lap, his hands grasping your hips but not breaking the kiss. the heat between you both growing more intense when his hands kneaded your ass, causing you to buck your hips into his and let out a whimper against his lips. he pulled away from you, wanting to look at you and soak in the moment.

his hands move teasingly slow up your body, making you shudder and grind your hips on his crotch. he whispered, “want to go to your room?” you bit your bottom lip, nodding eagerly. he picked you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as you laughed, making him smile softly at you. you leaned in and kissed him softly as he lead you both down the hallway and into your bedroom, continuing where you both left off.

you rubbed your eyes groggily as you opened them up, you place your hand on lip’s chest as he snored softly next to you. you kissed his small triangle tattoo on his chest while you admired how peaceful he looked. you trace the tattoo delicately with your fingers as you watch him sleep.

his eyes fluttered open, smiling softly when he saw you. you leaned in, giving him a peck on his lips. he pulled you back in, kissing you deeply. he whispered against your lips, “good morning, baby.” you snuggled into his chest, “good morning. how did you sleep?” he kissed your forehead, “i always sleep good with you. how did you sleep?”

you smiled softly, “i slept really good.” you left a few tender kisses down his neck as his right hand slipped under the covers, groping your right breast. you whimper when he kisses you desperately, your thumbs caressing his cheeks. he crawls on top of you as you both kiss, your legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer to you. his phone rings on the nightstand as you both make out on your bed, him ignoring the call.

the ringing sound ceased when it started ringing a second time, making you detach from his lips. “who’s calling you?” he looks away from you, grabbing the phone off the wooden surface when you saw that mandy was the person calling him. he sighed annoyingly as he set it to vibrate and set it back on the bed, attempting to kiss you once more when you stop him.

you said meekly, “you should go, baby.” he asked, “do you really want me to go?” you shook your head, “i don’t want you to but it’s best if you do. you and mandy clearly have things to work out.” he nodded understandably, he knew you were right about needing to go back. he got up out of your bed as he gathers up his clothes and putting them back on.

he asked, “what does this mean for us?” you shrug as you got up out of bed, “i have no idea. all i know is that i love you but i don’t want to get in between your relationship with her more than i already have.” he threw his shirt and jacket on when he walked over to you, cupping your face in his hands. “i love you too. i’m going to come back for you when i figure this out, i promise.”

he kissed you lovingly, brushing his nose against yours. “do you mind walking me out?” you smiled, “i don’t mind at all.” you both walk out of your bedroom and down the hall into the living room. he grabbed his shoes from by the door, putting them back on. you unlock the door for him as he stands in front of you, you wrapped your arms around his neck as he buries his face, inhaling the scent of your sweet perfume on the right side of your neck.

he lifted his face from your neck, giving you a gentle kiss goodbye. your noses brush against each other once more, “text me when you get home. i love you, lip.” he pecked your lips before opening the door, letting in the cold morning breeze. “i love you, baby. i’ll see you later, okay?”

you nod as you watch him walk out the door, down the porch steps and into the street. you closed the door once he was out of sight, locking it behind you. you stand against to the door, taking in a deep breath. you wondered if it was a dream that lip gallagher actually loved you. you exhaled as you smiled to yourself knowing that it truly wasn’t a dream.

you wondered what was going to happen next with you two but all that you knew was that you were going to stick by his side and he was going to be by yours.

#lip gallagher #lip gallagher x reader #jeremy allen white #lip gallagher fanfiction #lip gallagher imagine #shameless us #shameless imagine #shameless fanfiction #izzy writes 💕

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leejungchans · 2 years

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seventeen’s reaction to the camera panning to them when their idol!s/o is on stage

༉‧₊˚✧ for my 1k event !

requested by anon : may i req svt reactions w/ idol s/o? you can decide on the scenario but cld i also add a detail that their relationship is public? thank you and congratulations once again!!!

a/n: hehe ty to the other anon who gave me the idea for the scenario <33 our braincells really clicked 🤝 i hope you both like this!!

word count | 1k

pairing | seventeen x gn!reader

genre | fluff, idol au

warning(s) / includes | none (please lmk if i missed anything!)

⋆͛♡⋆͛ seungcheol

gets so, so shy because he was literally caught in 4k with the biggest, goofiest smile on his face. look, it’s not his fault you decided to throw in a cute wink during your part. the second he realises he’s on the big screens, the fans start screaming and he turns bright red in .2 seconds, though the smile on his face is unwavering even as he covers his face. gets teased a lot by the guys after. (“look at coups acting all cute.”)

⋆͛♡⋆͛ jeonghan

totally unfazed. what, did you expect something else from yoon jeonghan? when they pan to him after your solo dance break, he simply makes eye contact with the camera and gives an approving nod with a grin on his face, which only makes the fans scream louder. he’s proud of you and he’s completely unapologetic with showing it.

⋆͛♡⋆͛ joshua

has his signature (⊙.⊙) look when he realises he got caught staring at the big screen after your part with literal heart eyes. you can't blame his inability to even hide his fondness when you’re the cause—you just look so captivating in your stage outfit and you’re absolutely killing the performance he knows you worked so hard for, who else is he supposed to look all smitten for? probably gives a goofy lil thumbs-up to the camera (because he doesn’t know how else to react) that you’ll definitely clown him for later when you scroll through twitter.

⋆͛♡⋆͛ jun

probably doesn’t even realise he was on the big screens the first time it happens because he’s so absorbed in your performance. only finds out when minghao, who was sitting next to him, told him about it. the cameramen definitely do it again though, and this time he notices just how smitten he looks as your group goes up on stage to receive an award. not that he’s complaining.

⋆͛♡⋆͛ soonyoung

another member who doesn’t get shy. like, at all. he’s jamming out to the rearranged version of your most recent release when they suddenly switch to put him on the big screens, while he’s still in the middle of nodding his head along to the music and excitedly mouthing to the lyrics. horanghaes when the fans start cheering because…well, he loves you. <3

⋆͛♡⋆͛ wonwoo

he’s observant, so he notices he’s being put on the big screen almost right away, but he pretends he doesn’t. he just prefers not to make a big deal out of it and take the attention away from your performance, so he keeps clapping along to the music until the camera eventually pans away. but once you look at the clip more closely after the show, you’d notice the rosy tint to his ears and the barely noticeable curl of his lips.

⋆͛♡⋆͛ jihoon

another member who’s blissfully unaware of the fact that he was put on the big screens. he’s always so focused on the music during other performances, but especially when it’s you up there. he’s so busy watching you on stage that he doesn’t even notice his face plastered on the huge screens. one of the guys tells him when it’s gone, and it’s then when it clicks why the fans had screamed so loudly. gets a little flustered for the next few minutes, but it’s in the past so he doesn’t linger on it too much.

⋆͛♡⋆͛ seokmin

he’ll always be your biggest supporter, so once the cameramen see him happily singing along to your group’s song like a true fan they immediately turn the camera around to film him. he gives the camera a huge smile and thumbs-up, though if it focuses on him a little too long he’d point back to the stage as a way to tell them to film your performance instead, because you’re always the main character in his eyes. you two end up trending everywhere for being couple goals.

⋆͛♡⋆͛ mingyu

uh-oh. the camera would catch him right when he’s biting down on his lower lip seductively because he’s just so blown away by how you look, not just in terms of your outfit but also from how you’re oozing with sheer confidence. goes from 100 to 0 the second he realises he’s been caught, and it definitely leads to him being mercilessly teased by his members. probably even earns a few laughs from his other idol friends, which makes him revert back into shy puppy mode and hide behind his members.

⋆͛♡⋆͛ minghao

he’s subtly mouthing along to your lines when the camera unexpectedly pans over to catch his reaction due to your recent dating news. his eyes widen a little and he freezes for a split second because he’s not sure how to deal with the sudden attention, especially when the audience starts screaming. but he recovers quickly and gives a little wave before the camera pans back to the stage, a soft blush on his cheeks as he devotes his full attention back to your performance.

⋆͛♡⋆͛ seungkwan

as one of the most supportive, outgoing idols in the industry, absolutely no one is surprised when he jumps up and claps happily when you win an award. all cameras are on you both as you walk past where seventeen are sitting on your way to the stage, capturing the huge smiles you send each other. they show his face on the big screen sometime during your speech, and everyone can tell how whipped he is from his starry eyes while he watches you like the proud boyfriend he is.

⋆͛♡⋆͛ vernon

:man_standing: personified. he’s just trying to vibe to your performance in peace, so when they unexpectedly project his face onto the big screens he’s so startled. still, he acknowledges the camera and gives an awkward little smile and ✌🏻 before turning back to the stage, hoping they will pan away from him soon enough. it’s cute, i promise, and you’d definitely find him really endearing once someone shows you the video.

⋆͛♡⋆͛ chan

he’s so absorbed in your performance that he doesn’t notice, especially not after your group’s dance break. one of the others nudges him when they see him appear on the screens, so he turns to face the camera and gives his signature :] smile. he’s a little perplexed from being put on the spot so suddenly, but he tries not to show it. gets more and more flustered the longer the camera lingers on him and probably bursts out laughing to brush off the embarrassment.

if you enjoyed my writing, please take a little time to reblog and give feedback to support it <3 interact with content creators please !

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neonghostlights · 8 months

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hey gorgeous!!

could i request a fic with eddie based on why’d you only call me when you’re high by AM? 🫶

First, I want to apologize for how long it took me to do this. Second, I know it's not exactly like the song, but I tried my best. I hope you like it.

Warnings: Drunk/High Eddie, Cheating (not on reader), Angst, Hurt/No comfort, Not a happy ending.

Wordcount: 1.4k

This Will Never Happen Again

The carpet fibers scratched against your face. Your cheek squished against the yellowing strands.

It was almost hard to breathe in this position but you couldn’t bring yourself to move from the spot you were in.

It was your thinking spot. The place you’d lie on the floor when your mind was racing and you needed a place to decipher what everything meant. You always thought this bit of floor in your bedroom was the most comfortable since you moved in.

The last bits of fading sunlight shone through the blinds, turning from yellow to orange to purple right in front of your eyes. It changed the ambiance of the room. Instead of plain white walls it transformed into the inside of the sunset.

Now was the waiting game. You had a feeling it would happen again tonight, just like it had on random nights for months. It happened more and more recently. Every weekend you could expect him to pay you a visit.

You never talk about it after it happens and it drives you insane. You wouldn’t even be able to talk to him if you wanted to. Sometimes you thought that you were crazy, imagining scenarios in your poor mind to make you feel like you had a chance.

You closed your eyes, letting your mind wander and drift to sleep until you heard the sharp ringing of the telephone.

You wouldn’t answer the call, you stopped after a while. The outcome was always the same so you just decided to save your breath. It did no good and no amount of consoling would stop him from coming over.

It didn’t matter if you picked it up or not. This will never happen again.

You could imagine him now. Maybe he was at the payphone right outside The Hideouts doors. Or maybe he had convinced the bartender to let him use their phone for free. You never asked.

It rang and rang and rang until suddenly it wasn’t anymore. You itched the palm of your right hand, your body antsy from ignoring the call. Somehow the silence of your apartment was louder than the phone ever was.

You closed your eyes again, focusing on the sound of your heart pounding in your chest until it turned into pounding at the door.

Your heart skipped a beat.

With more strength than it should take you pushed yourself from the carpet, back cracking as you stood completely. You had been there for hours. It was probably around three in the morning at this point, it usually was by the time he made it over here.

He kept banging on the door as you walked slowly to it, dreading the way this would go. You wished you had the heart to just let him sit out there. He could bang on the door all night if he wanted to.

You didn’t care if your neighbors complained again. Not anymore. This will never happen again.

You released the locks, taking a deep breath as you pulled it open.

He wasted no time stumbling in, face red with tears. His hair was disheveled, sticking up in places you knew he had run his hands through.

The smell of the alcohol followed.

You didn’t know how he got here. You never did. All you knew was that when him and her fought, Eddie would get fucked up on any substance he found and stumbled his way to your doorstep.

He could never remember his way home when he was like this but he could always remember his way to you.

He was already cussing, already apologizing for something you had nothing to do with. Not really.

“-and I’m so fucking stupid. So stupid,” he gasped out, clutching at his chest. His clothes were disheveled but it always amazed you how he managed not to lose his rings.

“You’re not stupid, Ed,” you sighed, almost robotic like. You were speaking from a script at this point, lines so perfectly rehearsed that you knew what he was going to say next and you didn’t want to hear it. Didn’t want to feel those words come out of his mouth and punch you right in the chest.

“I’m so stupid. I’m so in love with you. Why do I keep going back to her? Huh? Why can’t I just be with you?”

You closed your eyes, turning your head for good measure so you wouldn’t have to see his devastated face.

You and Eddie had been friends forever. And you had been desperately, and consumingly in love with him for almost the same amount of time.

When you were both twenty one, you thought the wait was over. That you two would finally be together like everyone knew you’d be.

But then he met her at one of his shows at The Hideout.

And then they moved in together.

And then Eddie wasn’t allowed to hang out with you anymore. Or be associated with you in any way.

You stopped showing up to group settings with your friends, knowing that it would cause him trouble just by you being in the same room. They still reach out sometimes but not a lot. Eddie was always their favorite.

As easy as it was to think it, as much as the jealousy wanted to view it this way, she wasn’t the villain in this story. She was just a woman who loved a man and wanted to keep him despite his obvious feelings for his best friend.

You and Eddie were your own villains, ruining the possibility of a beautiful love story with your own mistakes.

Now he and her had been fighting a lot. When that happened he ended up here for the same thing to happen over and over again.

He would cry, blubber, into your shirt about how he’s made a mistake and how he wants you. Then he would try to kiss you and you would turn him down. You could never cross that line with him. Not when he was like this and not when he was supposed to be going home to someone who loved him.

“You love her, Eddie,” you told him.

Eddie shook his head, hair flying.

“I love you,” he rasped, reaching for you.

You stepped back, your back hitting the front door with a thud.

He kept coming though, both hands placed on the sides of your face. You could smell The Hideout drifting off his skin and clothes. Cigarettes, beer, and debauchery were stuck to him like a bad cologne.

He dove in, lips almost to yours.

But you knew what he was doing. You had done this dance so many times. You slapped your hand over your mouth so his lips only touched the back of your hand.

He looked at you with confusion when he opened his eyes. He pulled away immediately, nearly falling backwards until he caught himself.

He let out a small “oh” as he backed away, realizing that you didn’t want to kiss him.

He looked like he was going to start crying again so you wrapped your arms around him in a tight hug.

“I just think we should talk about this in the morning when you feel better. Okay?” You said in a cheerful voice, walking him backwards toward the couch.

Eddie sniffled but you could see him still nodding as he landed on the couch. You grabbed the blanket and pillow you left in the living room for nights like these and made sure he was comfortable.

He dozed off immediately.

You took a moment to stare at him and see how he couldn’t even relax in his sleep. His jaw was tense and his brows pulled together like he was contemplating life when he was supposed to be having sweet dreams.

You looked away. It didn’t matter how he slept. This will never happen again.

You sighed, filling up a glass of water and setting it on the coffee table beside him so he could have it when he woke up.

You laid in your bed alone, still awake and crying into your pillow when you heard him leave in the morning like he always did.

Last night in his drunken stupor and this morning in his early morning haze he didn’t seem to notice the boxes stacked up around the apartment or just how bare it looked.

Next time he stumbles to your home, he won’t be able to find you.

It didn’t matter. This will never happen again.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson au #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #eddie stranger things #eddie munson angst #eddie munson series

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elceeu2morrow · 6 months

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'Louis Tomlinson has proven he's not just an ex-boyband star, he's a rocker'

Some know him as 'that guy from One Direction', others, including myself know him as arguably one of South Yorkshire's finest exports but Louis Tomlinson is only getting better, writes Daniel Bird

Image: Mirrorpix/Daniel Bird

Daniel Bird Assistant Showbiz Editor 17:31, 12 Nov 2023

Louis Tomlinson may only have two solo albums but he's proving to be one of the artists people should keep an eye on.

Having burst onto the music scene in 2010 as one-fifth of One Direction – a band created by Nicole Scherzinger on The X Factor after all five members were rejected, he's proven he's not just an ex-boyband singer. While singers from bands tend to keep a low profile and venture into other industries after a split, Louis is on a one-way ticket to becoming a mega-star in his own right.

Known for never losing his Doncaster accent and humour, the 31-year-old is currently embarking on his Faith In The Future World Tour, performing to thousands of die-hard fans every night – which he deserves credit for.

Although he may have come from one of the biggest bands of all time, the cheeky chap isn't afraid of getting up close and personal with fans – much to the dismay of his security who leap into action when he jumps off stage and runs to the barricade to see fans. In recent weeks, Louis has seen his expensive vests ripped off him, with fans even going as far as tickling him.

This, however, hasn't stopped him from putting on an incredible show. Despite only releasing two studio albums as a soloist (his second topping the Official UK Charts), he's pushing himself to the limits and playing arenas across the world. Most recently, he performed to around 21,000 fans at Manchester's AO Arena on November 11.

Walking onto the stage may be daunting for some, but Tomlinson showed no signs of fear as he opened with The Greatest – ironically, perhaps the greatest opening track. Throughout the night, he performed hits including Kill My Mind but also paying tribute to his One Direction days, belting out Drag Me Down and Where Do Broken Hearts Go. But since his pop days, Tomlinson has edged towards a more EDM and synth sound before finding his comfort in rockier tracks. He'd previously stated he'd taken inspiration from the likes of Sam Fender, Amy Winehouse, Arctic Monkeys and Manchester legends, Oasis.

Image: Mirrorpix/Daniel Bird

Nowadays, fans can expect the odd pop hit but also enjoy punk rock as well as indie pop and soft rock.

However, despite being in the business for almost 14 years, Louis remained grounded and acknowledged that Manchester was the start of his career. Between songs, he recalled his first audition for The X Factor in front of Simon Cowell, Scherzinger and Louis Walsh, being in the city. He told fans: "This is where I did my very first audition, so to be back here on my own it definitely feels full circle and I couldn't have done that without you.

#mirror uk #lt press #11.12.23 #fitfwt2023 manchester

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wavesoutbeingtossed · 2 months

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TTPD Track Speculation/Prediction: @wavesoutbeingtossed Edition

Against my better judgment, I’m putting down my predictions before I am proven completely wrong on April 19.

on the other hand I did correctly attribute all of the 1989 TV vault track teaser lyrics to their songs before it was released so maybe I’m just that good jk.

I’m putting everything under a cut because it’s long and mostly just shooting the shit but it’s a long weekend so what the heck!

I started writing this the night the album was announced at the Grammys in February, so obviously things may have evolved in the meantime. It will be very interesting to see just how wrong I am!

Here be speculation, musings, jokes and more! Enter at your own risk!

SOUND:

I honestly have NO CLUE. I’ve said many, many times that I would be absolutely gagged for an Americana-folk type sound like Carolina/Safe and Sound/some of her acoustic performances on tour. I don’t really expect TTPD to sound quite that stripped back, though. (Prove me wrong, Taylor!)

I am kind of feeling pop-rock-y though, à la WCS, TTDS, based on absolutely nothing but that is also a genre/sound I love that I am begging to hear more on albums.

Completely off the wall guess: Something more jazzy-big band-y, based on nothing but her styling in recent months on the red carpet that harkens back to golden age of Hollywood vibes (especially the Grammys), the inclusion of Clara Bow (renowned flapper girl) on the track list, and the way she keeps talking about being grateful fans accept her bending and switching genres over the years and support her when she does “weird” things.

FORMAT (?)

OK this is just me spitballing, but I said awhile back that I am just getting vibes that there may be, like, a story within a story with this. As in, using some fictional settings as an allegory for the story about herself. The example I used then was The Lumineers, and how they wrote their album III about three generations of a fictional family dealing with addiction, which was an allegory for the lead singer’s own family’s experience with it (without directly calling out the family member in question at the time). There were characters in the album, but many of the songs were sung from an “I”/“you” perspective. I may not be explaining myself well, but I wouldn’t be surprised if there are “fictional” stories in that they’re sung about characters (e.g. Clara Bow?), but it will be obvious to fans that she’s using the characters to speak about herself and her experiences. I’m just getting big “storytelling” energy from the hints. Which means I’m totally wrong!!!! Don’t listen to me!!! (I do think there will be some shades of this somehow, though.)

TRACK LIST SPECULATION

Fortnight: Think you are all on the money about it being the time between the start of tour and when Joever happened for good. Sort of a “two years of uncertainty coming to a head in two weeks” thing. Spending two weeks agonizing over what to do. Two weeks for your whole life to blow up. Finally being removed from the situation and grasping onto your dreams that have been on hold for years and realizing your mind’s made up because you won’t give this part of you up even if it means letting go of what you thought your future held. But another thing I’ve thought of: some common wisdom claims it takes two weeks for a new routine to become a habit, so… outside chance it’s like, two weeks go by and you’re finally used to/accepted whatever it is you’re trying to kick? Also had a thought that there could be many two-week periods that can mark your life and give pause.

The Tortured Poets Department: No idea really lol. For some reason I feel like this is going to be a little more experimental, “laying the groundwork for the defense” type of vibe, kinda like Mastermind, or using the investigative/academic metaphor to delve into it like, Mad Woman or Vigilante Shit. (Or: it could be super petty roasting the infamous group chat lol. In all seriousness though I would doubt that because I feel like this album is very much about Her… unless said group chat was so insufferable she needs to blast it on main.)

My Boy Only Breaks His Favourite Toys: I saw some talk on my dash about this giving renegade themes (you fire off missiles because you hate yourself but don’t you know you’re demolishing me), and I totally thought the same thing. Also those of you who pointed out the parallels to Cardigan are geniuses (when I was an old cardigan under someone’s bed you put me on and said I was your favorite). Again kinda think there might be some more metaphor in this but guessing it may be along the lines of “he’s only doing this because he knows I won’t leave” themes? It instantly gives dark and uneasy. It gives, the people you love are the ones you hurt the most. All signs point to Not Good.

(Or this is about Benji destroying his spin toys or is that just my cat that does that.)

Down Bad: Someone said (on Jaime’s blog I think*) that this is giving False God but icky and I can TOTALLY see that. (Then again I’ve always found False God sad in the sense that it’s like, “even when we fight so bad we can’t communicate we still have the sex holding us together.”) But, Taylor does like to take sayings with common meanings and twist them on their heads, so I also wouldn’t be surprised if “Down Bad,” isn’t referring to being down as in being horny for someone, but being down as in, feeling devastated/hopeless. (Or, even worse, mean both at the same time. 😵‍💫)

(*I wrote this post in February after the announcement, I don’t have a clue when any of this was said anymore sorry)

So Long, London: like a lot of people, I feel like this is her goodbye to the life they had and more importantly/poignantly, the dreams she had of their future. (I don’t know but, “remember looking at this room we loved cause of the light, now I just sit in the dark and wonder if it’s time” just feels like it’d be part of this story.) So because I’ve said that, watch it be an excoriation of London Boy lol. (You know I’m mad at a London Boy / who just really won’t leave Camden / Market in the afternoon / he hasn’t seen my American smile / in two months cause he won’t come to see me / when I have a show to do…) Feel like it’s going to gut us. BUT, also wonder if this is her “I’m getting the fuck out of dodge ROCK FLAG AND EAGLE” anthem haha. (Or: she ran away to London to escape the Bad Stuff but then got stuck in another kind of Bad Stuff living there for so long…)

But Daddy I Love Him: Pretty obviously the Little Mermaid reference. Very curious if the actual quote is in the song, or if it’s just named that to set the scene but the song instead is an expounding on the theme of giving up her voice for the sake of the relationship like Ariel. Also wonder if this is an overtly diaristic song or if she is going to use characters/figures/fiction to expand on the theme subtly, a little like Maisie Peters’ History of Man or Florence & The Machine’s Cassandra or even more pointedly like her own Last Great American Dynasty or The Lucky One. I do assume the overarching theme is going to be the push-pull between keeping her love and giving up things that are important to her to make that love work. (Watch this be about her arguing with her father about marrying *** lol.)

The theme of giving up your voice/what you hold dear for love is so loaded, and has some parallels to Clara Bow’s story, which is also on the track list so… Lots to chew on I’m sure.

Fresh Out The Slammer: Totally think the reference to her locking herself up for years at home because she was scared in the Time POTY interview is a likely link to this. Feeling free after the weight of this decision is off her shoulders, yet the sheer terror at now being on her own and rebuilding her future. It could be uplifting but I could also see it being like pure chaos. BUT, a thought I had earlier is that, if this is a song that was written pre-Joever, maybe it’s about the aftermath of a rough patch. Like, we just got our get out of jail free cards, we made it through the other side of this Big Thing that almost ended us (e.g. the final blow in YLM), where do we go from here?

Florida!!!: Emphasis on the “!!!”!!! Honestly it had me at FLORENCE AND THE MACHINE. I’m soooooo curious and sooooooooooooo pumped for this one. I don’t want to let myself hope it’s going to sound like a Florence song BUT I HOPE IT SOUNDS LIKE A FLORENCE SONG. I’m going to guess it may be a reference to the first stop on tour after the news broke. Wasn’t that also a show where a ton of things went wrong? I can see it going so many ways! Is it a hopeful “Florida I’m coming for you you’re a symbol of my great escape my prison break my entire life crumbling and rising again”? An introspective “I never thought I’d have to rebuild my whole world after it imploded, in Florida of all places?!”? Is it a sarcastic “fucking Florida always the scene of the crime I can’t believe my life is falling apart and I need to go to FUCKASS FLORIDA oh great every thing that can go wrong with my show is FLORIDA!!!!”? Is it a rant about the corporate mouse? Or a scathing takedown of Republican politics ahead of the 2024 elections? (lol) Who’s to say?!

Guilty as Sin?: Sooooooooooo curious about this. I’m a Carolina Stan and I know there is 0% chance there is a link between the two songs other than the lyric which is a common term, but it does make me happy. My first thought about this one is that it’s going to be biting or self-reflective — kinda like the bridge of Is It Over Now? Or the chorus of Anti-Hero. As in, “what is it exactly that you think I’m guilty of?” (E.g. ambition? Drive? Seeking attention? Being selfish? But could also be sad: Loving too hard? Caring too much? Being too needy? Hmmm.) I’m kind of feeling like it’s a “if it’s wrong to be guilty of these things I don’t want to be right.” Again if I had to guess I’d wonder if it would have the same vibes as the bridge of YLM. (For some reason, with the question mark, I don’t necessarily think it’s going to be accusing someone of something…)* I also had a thought about the seven deadly sins and this title and… THOUGHTS ARE THINKING**.

(*I may not have found it accusatory in February, but with the benefit of hindsight in March I… reserve the right to change my mind about this.)

(**Future Waves here: the thoughts may have been thinking for February Waves but March Waves has no idea what she was talking about.)

Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me?: I don’t knooooooooooow. At first the title kinda gave me Blank Space vibes, like, you don’t know how much I could fuck this up if I wanted. Then some people mentioned the similarity to Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? And now that’s absolutely all I can think about. If you’ve ever seen the movie (or the play), it is rooooooooough. Watching George and Martha drunkenly eviscerate each other as their guests watch on in horror is… oof. (As someone who has seen this happen in real life and was trapped on a boat with a couple in full unhinged mode… OOF. Just OOF.) Of course there’s the Burton-Taylor of it all too so… (there’s also an interesting theme in Virginia Woolf about buying into illusion to avoid the messiness of reality… and Martha resenting George’s lack of ambition.) Is this song cheeky? Or a threat? Is this a Better Than Revenge/Vigilante Shit rebuke or is it Bejeweled owning her personhood?

(Like any of these songs, there’s also the chance that it’s heartbreaking and is really a reflection on how the things that make her her can be weaponized against her… Or how her struggles/vices alienate her to the person she loves a la Anti-Hero…)

I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can): My first thought is this is going to be one of her sarcastic/satirical/funnier ones, based on nothing except that this sounds like it could be an Olivia Rodrigo cheeky song lol. (Like, I immediately start singing this to the tune of “Get Him Back.”) Never beat those allegations, Taylor, we’ve all been there. It definitely feels like a stereotypical tale of “girl tries to fix a man who doesn’t want to change and refuses to give up.” Watch this actually be a sad ballad about the flip side of renegade and trying to help a partner through a crisis 😬

loml: the quiet menace in this list!!!! Obviously we’re all immediately thinking “love of my life,” but because this is Taylor, we should not rest easy. The fact that it’s all in small caps is curious to me and calls back to text speak, so is this a term of endearment that turns into a final parting sign off? Is it from an email ahem? Is it a sweet song about the good parts of being together? A wistful song about a lost love? BUT THEN, because it’s Taylor, I can totally see this being a bait and switch and it standing for something else as some of you pointed out, like loss of my life, or love OR my life. Or something entirely different. I’m pretty convinced that this one is going to be devastating in some fashion. I just feel it in my bones.

I Can Do It With a Broken Heart: Like many of you, I’m fairly certain this is going to be a bittersweet Long Live-esque ode to the Eras tour. The pick yourself up by the bootstraps, get out of bed, the show must go on and the show is saving my life story. Just thinking of the quote from the Time POTY interview where she said, “I know I’m going on that stage whether I’m sick, injured, heartbroken, uncomfortable, or stressed.” And in those early weeks, it seems like she might have been all of those things at once. Just trying to talk yourself into getting out of bed when all you want the earth’s core to swallow you whole and never come back. Kind of like, I can pick up the pieces of my life and carry on even when I am dying inside.

The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived: Obviously this is about one Benjamin Button, please. OK, in all seriousness, it’s giving, well… *shots fired*. It’s giving “your integrity makes me seem small.” It’s giving “I’m a monster on the hill, too big to hang out.” It’s giving “all you are is mean.” So, part of me thinks it’s going to be turned on its head a little bit, just because… it seems to point to something directly and sometimes Taylor enjoys a bit of misdirection. So is this about someone who takes shots at someone else and in so doing, displays their own insecurity? Another thought I had is: Is this about someone who retreats into their own world so much that they’ve shut out everything and everyone else? Their whole world gets shrunken down to the four walls around them? I have a strong feeling this is an allegory-type song, using a fictionalized and possibly fantastical story to tell the real life one, but obviously I could be wrong.

The Alchemy: gonna be real with you all: I didn’t know that alchemy was the practice of turning base metals into something that looks like gold. I think I was mixing it up with apothecary or something, lol. I thought it was the practice of making potions and whatnot. #TheMoreYouKnow ANYWAY, I think the idea of “turning nothing into something that shines” is going to be important. Is it about using her best colours for a portrait to hide the cracks underneath? Is it about trying your best to make something work and thrive but ultimately coming up empty because the foundation is gone? Is it about turning these base experiences into art that fuels her? There are so many possibilities! (@taylortruther’s post about The Alchemy and other comments got me thinking too about the magician/illusionist scenario in So It Goes and now my brain is on fire.)

Clara Bow: Soooooooooo intrigued by this one too. People have pointed out so many of the interesting coincidences and parallels in their lives. Clara Bow was a silent film star who found her voice in the talkies — that right there is one metaphor about finding your voice in your art and your life. But it’s also an interesting parallel that she managed to parlay her success in silent film into talkies, at a time where few actors enjoyed a successful transition, which mirrors Taylor’s transition from country to pop. There’s the way Clara’s private life was splashed all over the press, driven by salacious rumours about her sex life and her perceived revolving door of lovers, which seems like something Taylor would empathize with. There’s the way she had a breakdown and left Hollywood, which may have some shades of 2016. Or that she got married and started a family, but insisted on keeping it a secret for many years to maintain privacy, which is interesting because in this case it seems like *Clara* was the one driving the need for secrecy, not her husband. (At least I read that in one article somewhere, sorry if that’s wrong!) Ultimately though, she died relatively young and was forgotten by mainstream Hollywood, a relic of a past uninteresting to all but the most diehard of film buffs. I’m getting vibes of “The Lucky One,” (and “Nothing New”) both in themes and in storytelling. So, watch it be completely different and not a story about Clara Bow but instead just have it be an off-hand line lol.

BONUS TRACKS

The Manuscript: I’m veeeeeery intrigued by this one. (I know I say that about all of them. That’s because they all intrigue me.) I love the idea that this wraps up the “standard” album; the chair(wo)man of the Tortured Poets Department has submitted her thesis for review, and it’s up to the board to draw their conclusion. OR: the idea that this is the unfiltered submission to a publisher, before the editor’s review that will cut and tighten and ultimately make it better, but loses the author’s initial vision in the process. (Like self-editing to share the most palatable story to your reader. Which… Also gives Dear Reader/Midnights in general vibes.) OR EVEN: this is the author’s story, submitted to the audience for their review, leaving it up to them to draw their conclusions and annotate. There are sooooooo many ways I can see this going.

The Bolter: A curious one indeed! I feel like of all of the bonus tracks at least, this is the one I have the least idea about. My immediate guess is that it refers to a person who runs, which would have all kinds of implications. Running from the law (unlikely lol), running from commitment, running from conflict… running for your life. Like running from commitment because you’re scared of being tied down (single girl version) to running from commitment because you’re scared of being tied down (bitter wife* version). (*NOT saying there was a secret wedding lol. I mean as in, that’s the future that was in store if one stayed.) I saw other takes saying bolter is also slang for jailer, which is also interesting with the Ready For It of it all.

The Albatross: So much has been said about this one, so I don’t think I have much to ado about this one! The famous poem is rife with all kinds of allusions: the bird soaring on its own for up to six years, but being brought down by man’s cruelty. The bird looking majestic in the skies, but the burden of its wings dragging it down on land, slowly killing it. The story being a metaphor for how the very thing poets are exalted for in society are the things they are punished for personally. I think it’s safe to say this one is going to hurt regardless, whether it’s a reference to herself, to ***, or something else entirely.

The Black Dog: Also another one I’m not sure I have many thoughts on yet. The black dog being a metaphor for depression is likely the inspiration, and I’m assuming this has the potential to be one of the most vulnerable songs yet. I have a feeling most of this album will be, but the imagery of this — the black dog being a constant companion, wanted or not, casting a pall over its master’s every move — points in a pretty obvious direction. And one that is probably going to gut us.

Well there you have it folks! I am ready to be completely wrong!

#the tortured poets department #Happy Good Friday this post has risen from the dead #(oops was that uncouth of me)#three weeks!!!!!!#i need this album now #my brain is on fire #Writing letters addressed to the fire

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hannieehaee · 5 months

Text

NO SONG WITHOUT YOU (teaser)

18+ / mdi

content: idol!jihoon x idol!reader, afab reader, pining, jihoon's emotionally constipated, jihoon's pov, some angst, misunderstandings, kinda inexperienced jihoon, smut, dry humping, oral (m receiving), penetrative sex, etc.

(^ no actual content warnings in the teaser)

wc: 782 in this teaser; 10k+ in the final ver

release date: 12/7/23

update: FULL FIC HERE

a/n: so happy to have finally written a long fic for jihoon!! he's one of my biases so i had a lot of fun writing him :D hope u guys enjoy the final product <3

masterlist

Jihoon was tired.

The truth was, Jihoon felt lost. Any time he strayed away from work in some way or other, he didn't know what to do with himself. He felt like a failure in many other aspects of his life. Granted, he was a successful idol and producer, talented in every area necessary in his field, but past that, what did he really have to offer? He'd been stuck in a rut for a few years now. He had his members, his family, maybe some staff, but his social life didn't go much past that. He didn't have many hobbies outside of work either. Sure, he was avid when exercising, even being an overachiever in that area, but that was also kind of part of his job. He knew he needed to step out of his comfort zone at some point and live his life, but he kept making excuses for himself. He was 26 now, and was, quite frankly, beginning to lose hope in certain areas of his life due to his career - although blaming his career was just an excuse, really - the romantic aspect of his life being one of them.

So, Jihoon was tired. Tired of hauling himself up in his studio to make himself feel something. But that was where he now found himself; stuck and in a rut, hoping for something more.

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oh-saints · 10 months

Note

You could write something like friends with benefits with Ruben Dias but he really falls in love w reader 😬 ? you can decide the rest just make it angst

you really can blame back to december (taylor's version) for this. who's ready?

saudade

(portugese) a deep emotional state of melancholic longing for a person or thing that is absent; desiderium.

it was a word rúben only learnt in front of his oldest flame. his favourite flame. however, between the two of them, did time heal everything?

rúben dias x doctor!reader word count: 4.5k prompts: above + summer fling + @julianalvarez9's post here (sorry, girlie, gotta twist your idea a bit) tw: explicit foreplay but suggestive smut 👀 note: y'all can blame ms. swift's newly released album, okay? well, aside from the depressive mood lately and recent work stress, the particular song kickstarted me to write my arse off like i just broke up with my ex (when it's an old news already lol). but as usual, i happen to write this at dawn so not beta-read yet. song: back to december + all too well

“oh, there she is!”

oh for the love of god, you know you were late, okay? when you hadn’t stopped running back and forth for two consecutive days straight to save everyone and their mother’s lives, it was pretty understandable to take the chance of hibernating the first thing you had a day off, right?

“after an eon of disappearing,” the groom—your favourite cousin but god did he love basking attention—raised his glass towards you, and you could only smile his way through the gritted teeth. “I’m glad you decide to grace us with you presence, Your Majesty.”

but of course your family wouldn’t understand that, for they lived a totally different lifestyle to yours, despite begging you to enrol yourself to the most prestigious medical school. ironic now that they were the ones who always begged you to come home when you felt like you’ve moved to your home the moment you got accepted to the most reputable cardiology and cardiothoracic department in the country.

so you smiled wider—for the appearance, of course—but you said nothing back.

you were still regulating your breaths, palpable by your huffs and puffs as you took the empty seat—god if the bridezilla got mad because you took the wrong seat, you’d fight her because it was already a sacrifice on your end to drag your ass to this weekend full of wedding festivities—and before you could do anything else, a glass of water was shoved your way gently.

“you look like you need one.”

you were not surprised by the voice. he sounded like he looked like—rough, buff, strong, bulk. you were rather surprised at the small smile thrown your way when he handed you the crystal, filled with clear liquid.

oh, the choice of drink, too, by the way. in a weekend that would soon be filled with endless flow of champagne and other alcoholic and questionable options, he chose still water.

realising you were still eyeing the glass in his hand, his demeanour changed slightly. “not a fan of water?”

“I thought you’re kind of a beer guy.”

your response sent him into a laughing fit because honestly, rúben was expecting you to throw a flirty banter. with an evening gown that rocked a thigh slit as high as the bride’s ego, you looked more ready to have some fun from the get-go.

but the sound of that deep, masculine laugh did wonders to you. heat immediately run through your entire body, and you immediately knew you liked it more than you thought you should because you kept wanting more. more of his laugh, more of his voice, more of his smiles, more of his scent. more of him.

“it’s too early for that, no?”

with the way he lifted his eyebrows teasingly, you almost questioned your decision to become a doctor. you’d definitely been missing out this special specimen beside you, due to burying yourself in between your patients’ body—literally, in order to save their lives. you really need to go out more often.

or maybe, you need to step up the game while you can before hospital took your fair share of fun as soon as you landed back home. shivers ran down the underside of your arms at the last thought.

fuck it, then. if there was one thing hospital taught you the hard way, it was to might as well enjoy things while it lasted.

you grabbed the glass of water from his hands—his skin felt exactly like it seemed—before signalling for two flutes of champagne. the server went to grab your request as you shoo away your thirst with the water and then proceeded to down the champagne when the server was back in the vicinity, all while never straying your eyes from his. “in Italy, nothing’s too early, no?”

and that was another laugh you’d come to like. god, if coffee did no longer work on your bloodstream, someone should get her that as her daily fix of adrenaline dose before her night shift started.

the man in front of you took his portion of champagne and said his thanks, his eyes held yours like there was no tomorrow. despite the roughness in his facial features, stubbles and all, his smile was warm. and for you, the whole combination was what made your knees weak.

how could someone look so sexy and smug in all his friendliness?

“it’s rúben, by the way.”

with the small smirk slowly tugging the corner of his lips as he sipped the champagne, rúben should really consider himself lucky you didn’t jump on him and replaced the crystal flute under his lips instead.

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

despite your initial dislike towards the bride—purely because you thought she had a severe princess disease—you tried so hard not to rain in her parade. no matter what, it was still her special day, probably one she’d been dreaming since she was a toddler.

also, have you mentioned that the groom was one of your favourite person on earth?

so you didn’t even dare to move anywhere outside the safe sanctuary of your table because you knew you’d be bombarded by the elders for how rarely you showed your face again in family functions like these, or for how you could not even show up with a boyfriend in tow. amongst the lineage, you were the only one left without a lover or some sort, but instead of draining your energy to explain how exhausting it was to live so that other people can live too, you stayed put.

that, and the fact that rúben provided 1001 reasons why you should stay behind with him. yes, sexiness aside, you found yourself able to converse so many things outside the medical jargons and it kind of made you miss it—the ordinary life everyone else was leading. you missed talking about the latest blockbuster movie, you even missed wearing something else than the hospital scrub and your favourite crocs for more than 10 hours straight.

you even missed the flirting phase, thanks to rúben’s impeccable ability to chime in some subtle but straightforward seduction. rúben himself already exuded some hotness, his laugh and words managed to shoot some warmth throughout your body, and the champagne tripled the heat all over you.

rúben was only downing another glass of negroni and you were only watching the liquid move from his mouth to his throat, but you needed to excuse yourself. your brain was no longer cooperating with every other organ intact to your body—you couldn’t shouldn’t think all of these forbidden thoughts inside of your mind because rúben had been nothing but a gentleman, yet you were the one who kept wanting to cross the line.

yes, rúben might’ve dropped some not-so discreet touches down your arms, on top of your knees, under your knees. yes, he twirled with your unkempt hair, tucked them behind your ears. but the groom used to do that all the time with you, just to tease you around, so what made this time different?

“I thought you hit the jackpot or something.”

and there was rúben again, his voice matched the concern written all over his face. even in times like this, when her inside was a mess all over, rúben managed to think of her well-being. damn it, he really made it so hard for you to contain the burning desire.

there, she said it. desire—a word so foreign in her dictionary recently, for she’d momentarily lost her want to study the human anatomy since the moment she walked into this party late.

“what, you’d run away or something if I did?”

despite you hyperventilating earlier, as you ran towards a balcony of this huge Italian castle looking for air, you were sure rúben couldn’t see a trace of it anymore. you were already sporting the provocating look you’d come to realise only come into the surface when stirred right—aka only rúben managed to do so by far.

and only rúben could take the outmost pride in enticing such vixen from her hiding place. you wouldn’t have braved the face to sport such dangerous dress if you didn’t have the energy in you, and he was more than glad you ended up taking your seat beside his, despite knowing you were supposed to be seated somewhere else later into the night, for he could satisfy himself with the sly and slightly naughty look you only threw his way whenever he wanted.

he’d be the worst liar on this planet if he said he wasn’t tempted to kill distance between your lips and his, so many times tonight. but his father taught him courtesy, and to do such radical act in a room full of other people’s guests would be an insolence and disrespect to the bride and groom.

but now that the matter of prying eyes was gone…

“I’d brush your teeth, of course,” a small gasp from you didn’t escape his ears. “what do you take me for?”

you smiled but you were shaking your head disapprovingly as you folded your arms in front of you. “when are you going to stop being a gentleman, rúben?”

“why should I?” the man stepped closer to you, and you wished he was still wearing the dark blue vest because you certainly couldn’t handle those specs ghosting behind the white shirt. “do you want me to be a bad guy?”

but you couldn’t also deny you’d want to see those chiselled chest. combined with that smirk and fascinating kind of mirth dancing in his eyes, would you be dead and sent to heaven? “can you?”

you were both now so close, rúben only needed to lift your chin towards his face to claim your lips. “oh, is that a challenge?”

he could easily did, by the way, with the way your lips were gaping as soon as he gripped his chin gently. but he decided to tease you more, as his nose reached down to touch yours while his body pushed you to the railing, giving him the excuse to catch your body in his arms.

your brain was now completely unwired, your limb was moving the way rúben orchestrated yourself like a maestro to his favourite instrument. all you remembered was to hold on to the back of rúben’s neck and the side of his strong arm, as he gathered you in his sturdy embrace, and chanting don’t fall, don’t fall to your now-airhead.

when he finally tipped your chin to his desired angle and your lips caressed one another, your breath turned shaky and it gave him an immense sense of pride. he’d been wanting to have this, dropping hints here and there so you’d let yourself free of expressing your inner self, because he knew you wanted the same thing too.

“what do you want?”

if anyone went wet at his usual voice, wait until you heard this version of rúben.

you could already feel yourself turning into a weak excuse of a puddle. your brain was melting, your inside was evaporating.

“tell me what do you want, baby, and I’ll give ‘em to you.”

it wasn’t that you were shy to voice them, but it was because you couldn’t find the words. funny how you could read endless words and medical jargons and yet, gone was everything inside and outside of yourself, including your so-called dignity you were often praised for when you were doing your rounds, when he dropped the word baby to call you with.

so you raised yourself on your tiptoes and pushed yourself towards him.

“uh, oh,” damn it, you forgot he was a footballer. he was paid to use his reflexes on weekly basis. avoiding your advances were nothing against his job. “words, baby.”

“you,” you managed to breathe out the simplest word you could find in the currently short-circuited brain of yours, but the very word seemed to please the man, whose smirk went wider oh-so sexily. “want you, rúben.”

if it wasn’t for the fireworks going off at the background five minutes later, rúben would’ve succeeded in making you fall apart in record time. but rúben didn’t know the word give up so while he kept to himself for the remaining of the night, he’d come looking after you as soon as the party ended and everyone went back to their respective suites.

you, too, certainly didn’t see this coming. but when rúben immediately kissed you senselessly as soon as you opened the door—well, as soon as he pushed you inside and opened your pathetic excuse of bathrobe, that is—you weren’t complaining. you even helped him shed the rest of your fabrics before unbuttoning all of his, all without separating yourself from him, because the last time you did, you never got the chance to chase your high.

“but, rúben, tomorrow’s the wedding!” you squealed as he lifted your body, your legs immediately locked your position against the large man, as he walked you both to your bed. “we’re so gonna be late, rúben.”

he was peppering your neck with kisses as he placed you down the mattress, rousing giggles from your end. “that will give them a story to tell, no?”

“you’re crazy—oh, oh,” the crispiness of your laughter was interrupted by the sensation of rúben’s tongue devilishly sucking your sensitive spot. “oh, fuck! fuck, rúben, fuck!”

if his tongue wasn’t twirling the bruising skin so well to soothe the pain, you’d smack the smile you felt against your skin. “well, they say that what happens in Italy, stays in Italy.”

“I think you’re mistaken for what happens in las vegas, stays in las vegas—oh, fuck, rúben…! don’t fucking stop.”

“is that so?” oh, how dare he stop?! you sat up when rúben halted the wet ministrations of his tongue against your breasts, about to protest the footballer, when he pinched your budding nipples. your head immediately fell back to the pillow, surrendering yourself instead. “can’t seem to remember. you keep distracting me, meu anjo.”

the sensation of his warm saliva against the coldness of his fingers’ pads were unlike no other that you mewled out the loudest moan you’d ever done. so disgusting you had to bring down his lips towards you to shut yourself up. “should we go to las vegas instead?”

“tonight?” rúben popped a now-hardened nipple of yours, and the sight was definitely something you could not erase from your memory. “I can call my plane.”

“don’t tempt me, rúben, because we know this weekend is going to be boring from the looks of it.”

“let’s bring las vegas to us, then.”

long story short, rúben brought you las vegas and its glory every chance he got during the weekend.

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

“must we go back to reality tomorrow?”

the giant central back chuckled at your submission. you were tucked under his arms, your fingers were drawing air on his chest, and somehow he knew you were pouting as you did so. it never ceased his wonder how you could be a temptress for a minute, then turned into a cutie-patootie—your words, not his—the next second.

it never ceased his wonder too as to how you’d always spurt out the same question all over again, every weekend you both got the chance to escape reality, despite knowing the definite answer of yes, we all have a life to lead tomorrow from him.

many of your colleagues had inquired about your relationship with the familiar face they’d seen over the weekend on their TV screens, but you didn’t know what to answer them. you were texting and flirting all the time but you were certainly wasn’t dating. you had sex, and you happened to repeat them whenever things got tough for either of you.

it was starting to become a vicious cycle, you and him. it was an impending doom, escaping the harsh reality only to seek for harsh and explosive sex instead of facing them head first.

he should’ve said no to every of your calls, but you crying over another life you failed to save wasn’t something in his card to ignore.

you should’ve said no to every of his calls, purely because you knew you were another rebound or another anger fuck from the losing game, but you didn’t have the energy in you to think of any reason to say no, not when you’ve racked your brain to save the failing life of your patients.

you both became a constant fixture, the only thing guaranteed good, when all else failed in your respective lives.

including the romantic aspect of your life.

but how could it not fail when rúben always picked up your calls when you had a bad day—that bad that you didn’t have the energy to have sex with him? he’d listened to you crying before stopping yourself, he’d listened to the silent you gave him because you were processing things. he’d listened to them all before offering to pick you up from work, no matter how stupid it looked like for him to slide in his vehicle at 5 in the morning when he had to be back at the training centre at 9 sharp.

when he couldn’t be around when you were having a mental breakdance, rúben would send you and your team a mini buffet for your lunch so you could share happiness the same way you shared him your devastation. so you could be back on your feet in no time because time is of essence for your job, your patients need you to be strong and healthy so they too could do and feel the same.

rúben—bless him—even spared his time to visit your patients when december came around the corner. he’d cheered them up, like the way he always did around you and for you, and even gave the kids and their caretakers gifts so they didn’t feel bored spending the festive holiday at the hospital. the next week, he brought over his entire football team just because one of the elder patients said he was a fan of his team.

he did all that, like a true gentleman you’d met the first time at your cousin’s Italian wedding, only to drop you the biggest nuclear bomb right on top of your head, right on christmas eve.

it was a dinner hosted by one of his teammates. he’d asked you to come because he knew you didn’t prepare for any last minute plan when your surgery schedule fell through—the patient died before you could save her—and thought the merry atmosphere would turn your sour mood to a better one.

you, from the beginning, didn’t want to go because you didn’t feel like intruding. and maybe, you shouldn’t have come.

the host, rúben’s captain, asked what kind of relationship you both were having, just as you were about to call for the men to join the women in the kitchen because the food were all ready to be served by now. but you never joined either side because of rúben’s answer.

“I’m getting married,” you remembered vividly. “she was nothing but a good fuck.”

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

but that was—what, five years ago?

you’d moved on with life, and that included moving far away from home to london. you obtained your specialist degree and was now under the tutelage of the best cardiovascular professor in town. you were often credited as prof. nagelsmann’s golden child because of how much the professor adored you, for your vast knowledge and eagerness to learn, as well as your hardworking attitude.

if people knew that you were studying till you broke your neck and had constant nosebleed till exhaustion took over your body at first only to put your mind somewhere else…

well, they didn’t need to know that. people only needed to know that you lived and breathed for the hospital now, because you’d now come to terms that life and death was two of the things that you were sure of to happen. nothing else were as definite as those two.

well, maybe also the jinx when you stashed away your hospital scrub for ordinary clothing as you clocked out of your shift.

as soon as your junior called your name, just five steps beyond the hospital territory, not even your car in sight yet, you knew you had to go back inside and save your kdrama marathon for another time. “code blue?”

your junior nodded and immediately jumped to describe the dire emergency. you were also handed the patient’s medical record. “male, 35 years old with CoA[1]. his stent’s infected so we have to do replacement but his CT scan shows hemothorax[2] and raptured aorta as well.”

your legs wanted to give away when your eyes spotted the name.

it’s ivan dias.

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rúben couldn’t believe his eyes.

there you were, explaining the whole procedure his brother would be going through. clad in your hospital scrub with no make-up, you were still as beautiful as he’d remembered. not even signs of time grazing your skin, as if the cold temperature of the operating theatre froze away the concept of time from your face.

your natural look was what initially drew him into you. in a room full of people caking their faces in the latest make-up trend, you definitely stood out in his eyes. you even outshone everyone else, including the bride, if he was being honest. and when he found out you were more than a pretty face, it didn’t take him another minute to settle his decision to make you stay behind in the table with him, so no one else could take you far away from him.

possessive, people would say to him. a trait he thought he’d hated in everyone else, but a trait that turned out to be something that showed up only whenever you were concerned.

but god, did rúben want you. so bad he felt like he could kill anyone else who casted you a seductive glance, despite you not acknowledging them.

and it made him hate himself because he was turning to be everyone else he’d come to hate. he didn’t want to be selfish, he didn’t want to push everyone else for what he solely wanted. he didn’t want you all for himself—he shouldn’t want you all for himself.

you both were only friends after all.

at least, that was rúben used to think of. because who the hell listened to another person crying for hours, if not for friends? who the hell picked up another person at 5 in the morning, if not for friends? who the hell reminded another person to eat so they could take care of their patients, if not for friends?

so he did everything he could, including dating around till he painted the town as red as the possessiveness he wished to hide, in hope he could diminish this niggling feeling that was bothering him day and night. he sought help and read endless books, just so he could validate the peculiar emotions he was feeling, that only vanished when you were around.

but nothing satisfied him. nothing was the answer to his long-standing question. even when he decided to jump the big gun and got married with someone else that didn’t even understand a simple arithmetic question, rúben still felt the gnawing hole inside of him, that was still thirsty of something he didn’t know of.

the hole grew into a big, black, gaping hole as his marriage went on. the hole even swallowed the existence and the idea of the two of them, the couple that could perfectly plaster the covers of bridal vogue, into a mere memory, burned to ashes and blown to the sky.

even then, too, rúben only wanted to see you. because being around you always brought strange waves of calmness to him.

so he did, only to find you go off the grid for good. he’d asked for you to everyone he knew and everyone he thought could possibly knew of your existence, to no avail. he’d thought of going to your home and asked to your parents but he decided to go against it because he respected you and your decision—he always does from the first moment he met you.

he remembered he didn’t even want to touch you until you succumbed yourself entirely to his palm, and he promised you he’d do that and he intended to keep his end of words, be it when you were around or not. he could only pray to God to meet you again in due time and course, when you were ready to see him again.

but now… god, did he want to scream out loud in happiness. you were still as gentle as ever, having handled fragile lives in your hands of both the parents and the guardians. your voice still reminded him of an umbrella under a blazing hot day, as you elaborated ivan’s condition to his parents. your hands still reminded him of a silk handkerchief tucked properly under one’s suit, as you touched his parents in reassurance.

only then did he realise that this sharp feeling inside of him, only you could provoke such intense emotions like a dagger stab to his heart, was longing.

he’d longed to have you in his arms again, despite having you there all his previous times with you. he’d longed to have you around him again, despite being around you. no distance was still a distance per his standard. and he realised he’d made the biggest mistake by not proclaiming you when he had the chance.

fuck possessiveness, he wanted you back.

after all these years, he still wanted you so bad.

“I knew you’d succeed,” rúben sat down with two cans of your choice of beer. “I haven’t had the chance to congratulate you. congratulations, by the way.”

“thank you,” while you flashed him a smile, you smiled rather awkwardly and scooted further away from him. like you were scared of him. like a child was scared of what a stranger had in their hands. “i—”

he didn’t like that you were getting further away from his reach. he couldn’t launch his old moves on you again if you did. “I hope you still like Budweiser.”

“I do, but I’m sorry, do I know you?”

but it seemed like he’d lost you now, the way he’d lost you years ago.

[1] coarctation of aorta; a birth defect in the aorta, where it is far narrower than normal, blocking the blood flow to the body. on severe cases, it is so narrow that it can back up the blood flow to the left ventricle, forcing the muscle there to work twice as hard in order to distribute blood the way it’s supposed to be.

[2] hemothorax; a presence of blood is detected between the chest wall and the lungs. commonly, may be caused by blunt trauma or by complication of a disease.

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