#but it just comes up with Other chord progressions? like?

[eggmeralda]

thinking about my favourite chord progressionnnnn

[eyivibyemi]

✧ I won’t really write descriptions for these, but see original post tags for explanation/commentary on the song snippet ✧

[misswynters]

Royal Welcome - Chapter Two

Dragon Twins Series

Aegon Targaryen x Dayne!fem!reader x Aerion Targaryen

[synopsis: You locked yourself in your room for the entire day after the events that occurred during the morning. You couldn’t believe aegon would humiliate you like that. Aerion however finds a solution to your sadness.

[warning: kissing, sensual touching, almost smut, puppy-eyed aegon

[word count: 3.0k

[a/n: we don’t often see the calm aegon in hotd so i decided that he will be that.

[note | it would greatly appreciated if you would not only just like, but also reblog & give me feedback. thank you!

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As the day progressed you were sulking in your chambers, not moving a muscle. What aegon did was so humiliating to you that you didn’t even want to step foot outside. Soon the evening shadows cast long tendrils of darkness across the room as you lay on your bed, your face buried in the silken pillow that was damp with the tears you had shed. The humiliation of the council meeting replayed in your mind like a cruel jest, Aegon's mocking laughter echoing in your ears. Your heart pounded with a mix of anger and shame, your cheeks stained red from both the wine and the sting of his words.

A soft knock at the door barely registered through your sorrow. You remained silent, unwilling to face anyone, least of all Aerion. The door creaked open regardless, and you heard the quiet, purposeful footsteps approach. A gentle hand rested on your shoulder, and you looked up to see Aerion's concerned face.

"Are you alright?" he asked softly, his voice filled with genuine concern. “You haven’t left your room at all since what happened at the small council meeting”

You shook your head, unable to find the words. Aerion sat down on the edge of your bed, his hand never leaving your shoulder. The warmth of his touch was a small comfort amidst the turmoil of your emotions.

"Aegon was out of line," Aerion said, his voice steady. "He had no right to treat you that way."

You looked up at him, your eyes red and swollen from crying. "It doesn't matter," you whispered, your voice cracking. "I'm just a pawn to them, a tool to be used for heirs and be discarded."

Aerion's expression hardened. "You are not a pawn," he said firmly. "…and luckily you have me."

His words touched a chord deep within you, and before you could respond, Aerion leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a sudden, passionate kiss. The world seemed to melt away as he cupped your cheeks, his fingers gentle against your skin. You followed suit, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as your heart raced.

The kiss deepened, a fervent exchange of unspoken emotions, each moment stretching into eternity. Your mind was a whirlwind, but in that instant, nothing else mattered. You were no longer burdened with duty and expectation; you were simply you, and he was with you.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other. Aerion's eyes searched yours, a mixture of longing and concern reflected in his gaze.

"Wanna come somewhere with me?" he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

You nodded, feeling a newfound strength. "Yes," you replied, your voice steady. "I'm sure."

Aerion smiled, a rare, genuine smile that made your heart flutter. He stood up, offering his hand. "Come with me," he said. "Let's get out of here, even if just for a little while. Clear our heads."

You hesitated for a moment, but then took his hand, allowing him to pull you to your feet. Together, you slipped out of your chambers, the castle corridors quiet and dimly lit. Aerion led you through a series of passages until you emerged into a secluded garden, the night sky above and all inhibitions were cast aside. Aerion's hands became more insistent, gripping your waist and pulling you even closer. The cool night air contrasted sharply with the heat building between you, making every touch, feel electric.

The cool night air was refreshing, and you took a deep breath, feeling some of the tension ease from your shoulders. Aerion stood beside you, his presence a comforting anchor in the sea of your emotions.

"Sometimes," he said quietly, "we need to step away to see things more clearly. Out here, it's just us. No titles, no expectations. Just me and you."

You looked up at him, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Thank you," you said softly. "For everything."

Aerion nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "Always," he replied.

After a few minutes in silence, you stood there watching the night sky, "Aerion," you whispered, your voice trembling with a mixture of need and anticipation.

He responded with a low growl, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that left you both breathless. His hands slid up your sides, tracing the contours of your body with an urgency that mirrored your own. You arched into his touch, your fingers threading through his hair, tugging him closer as the kiss deepened.

You broke apart, gasping for air, your foreheads resting together. The garden seemed to pulse with the same intensity that thrummed through your veins. His eyes were dark with desire, his breathing heavy as he looked at you.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

You nodded, unable to find the words but certain in your heart. "Yes," you whispered, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions raging within you. "I want this, my prince. I want you."

He needed no further encouragement. With a swift motion, he lifted you, guiding you to a secluded bench surrounded by the fragrant blooms. You settled into his lap, your legs straddling his as he pulled you close, his hands gripping your hips. The new position only heightened the intensity of your connection, your bodies pressed together in a desperate, fevered embrace.

Aerion's lips found yours again, the kiss raw and hungry. You matched his fervor, your hands roaming over his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your fingers. Every touch, every kiss seemed to ignite a fire that threatened to consume you both.

His hands slid under your dress, the roughness of his fingers contrasting with the softness of your skin. You gasped as he found the sensitive spots along your thighs, his touch sending shivers of pleasure coursing through you. You clung to him, your own desire mounting with each passing moment.

"Aerion," you moaned, your voice a breathless plea.

He responded with a low, guttural sound, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving a path of fire in their wake. His hands continued their exploration, and you could feel the hard evidence of his desire pressing against you, adding to the delicious tension building between you.

The night around you seemed to disappear, the world narrowing to just the two of you, lost in each other. The garden, once a place of peace and tranquility, now echoed with the sounds of your shared passion. You moved against each other, each touch, each kiss pushing you closer to the edge.

"Aerion, I..." you began, but the words were lost as his mouth claimed yours again, silencing any further thoughts.

The kiss was possessive, demanding, and you surrendered to it completely, your body responding to his in perfect harmony.

Your hands moved to his shirt, fumbling with the buttons in your haste to feel more of him. He helped you, shrugging out of the garment and tossing it aside.

Your hands roamed over his bare chest, feeling the warmth of his skin, the strength of his muscles. You marveled at the sensation, the way his body seemed to fit perfectly with yours.

Aerion's hands were no less busy, his touch exploring every inch of you, leaving a trail of desire in its wake. The night air was cool against your heated skin, but it only heightened the intensity of your connection. You could feel the dampness between your thighs, a testament to your growing need for him.

"Aerion," you begged, your voice barely more than a whisper. “We should stop…”

He groaned, his lips brushing against your ear. "I need you," he murmured, ignoring you as his breath laid hot against your skin. "I need you so much." You started to feel guilty as he continued to kiss you passionately.

He paused for a moment thinking about what you said, his breathing ragged, eyes dark with lingering desire. “You’re right,” he hesitantly agreed, his voice hoarse. He reluctantly let go of your waist, his hands lingering on your hips for a moment longer before he pulled back.

You both stood, the cool night air a sharp contrast to the heat still radiating from your bodies. Aerion’s eyes never left you as you adjusted your dress, smoothing out the wrinkles and making sure everything was in place. His hands moved to help, his touch gentle and careful as he straightened your clothes, his fingers brushing against your skin with every movement.

“I’m sorry,” you said, your voice a mixture of regret and lingering desire.

He shook his head, his eyes softening as he looked at you. “Don’t be,” he murmured, a small smile playing on his lips. “I understand.”

As he continued to help you, his hands moved with a deliberate slowness, and he couldn’t resist placing soft kisses on your lips. Each peck was tender and affectionate, a stark contrast to the fevered kisses from moments before. You leaned into him, savoring the sweetness of his touch, even as the urgency of your previous encounter faded.

“There,” Aerion said softly, his hands coming to rest on your shoulders. “All set.”

You looked up at him, your heart swelling with emotion. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice filled with a depth of feeling that went beyond words.

He smiled, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “Always,” he replied, his eyes locking onto yours with a promise of more moments like this, of a connection that went beyond the physical.

The garden was quiet once more, the night enveloping you both in a serene embrace. You took a deep breath, the cool air calming your racing heart. He took your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours, and together you walked back toward the castle.

Aerion gently led you back to your chambers, the soft glow of the torches casting warm light across the stone corridors. His hand remained firmly clasped in yours, a silent promise of protection and affection. When you reached your door, he paused, his gaze lingering on your face.

"Goodnight," he whispered, his voice filled with tenderness. He leaned in, brushing a kiss against your forehead, a soft, lingering touch that left your heart fluttering.

"Goodnight, Aerion," you replied, your voice barely a whisper as you watched him turn and walk away, the connection between you still palpable.

࣪⠀⊹  ˑ  ִ  ֗   ִ  ۫ 

A few moments later, your handmaidens entered the room, carrying your nightgown and the items needed for your nightly bath. They moved with practiced efficiency, helping you undress and preparing the bath. As you slipped into the warm water, a sense of calm washed over you, the events of the night replaying in your mind.

The handmaidens' gentle hands washed your body, the soothing motions helping to ease the tension from your muscles. Your thoughts drifted to Aerion, his touch, his kisses, the way he looked at you with such intensity. A smile tugged at your lips, a warmth spreading through you that had nothing to do with the bath.

Just as you were beginning to relax, the door to your chambers burst open with a loud crash. You startled, the peaceful moment shattered. Aegon stumbled into the room, his eyes glassy and unfocused from his usual nights out. He reeked of alcohol, his steps unsteady as he glared at the handmaidens.

“Get out!” he bellowed, his voice slurred but still commanding. The handmaidens exchanged frightened glances but quickly obeyed, scurrying out of the room and leaving you alone with him.

Aegon’s eyes flicked over you, and he took a deep breath, the fury from earlier momentarily subsiding. “Get dressed,” he muttered, his tone softer but still laden with the effects of alcohol.

Fearful of his unpredictable state, you quickly stood from the bath and wrapped a towel around yourself, hurrying to slip into your nightgown. Aegon sat on the edge of your bed, watching you with an intensity that made your skin prickle.

Once you were dressed, he patted the spot next to him on the bed. “Sit,” he commanded, his voice a mix of authority and vulnerability.

You hesitated, but the look in his eyes made you comply. You sat beside him, the tension between you palpable. Aegon’s expression softened, the anger replaced by a sadness that caught you off guard. Slowly, almost hesitantly, he lay his head on your lap, his vulnerability exposed.

“I saw you and my brother in the garden,” he confessed, his voice trembling slightly. “I saw everything.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, fear and guilt mingling as you searched for words. “Aegon, I—”

He cut you off, his voice muffled as he buried his face in your lap. “Why?” he asked, his voice filled with a sorrow that made your heart ache. “Why him? Why not me?”

Hesitantly, you raised your hand and began to caress his head, your fingers threading through his hair in a soothing manner. Aegon, usually so arrogant and self-assured, now seemed vulnerable, exposed. You looked down at him, seeing the pain and confusion etched on his face.

“Aegon, it’s not about choosing one over the other,” you began, your voice gentle. “Aerion and I… it was unexpected, we just connected in that way.”

He let out a shaky breath, his body trembling slightly against yours. “But I can love you,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I can learn how.”

The confession hung in the air, heavy with unspoken feelings and regrets. You felt a pang of sorrow for Aegon, but your heart still belonged to Aerion. You had to tread carefully, not wanting to hurt him further.

“Aegon,” you said softly, continuing to stroke his hair, “I care about you, too. But i can’t live like this, i hate being constantly ignored”

He let out a shuddering sigh, his grip on your dress tightening. “I’m sorry” he murmured, more to himself than to you.

You gently squeezed his shoulder, your touch tender. “I’m sorry, Aegon,” you said, your voice filled with genuine regret. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

He looked up at you, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I know,” he said quietly. “I know.”

For a moment, you both sat there in silence, the weight of the situation pressing down on you. Aegon finally lifted his head from your lap and stood, his movements sluggish and weary.

“Goodnight,” he said, his voice hollow. He turned and left the room, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

You sat there for a moment, the events of the night swirling in your mind. Aegon’s confession, his vulnerability—it all left you feeling conflicted and sorrowful. Your heart now remained stuck in between the two, drawn to Aerion with a pull you couldn’t resist. But also struck by aegon’s sudden burst of emotion. Even though he was drunk, you could feel his true feelings spurring out of his heart.

࣪⠀⊹  ˑ  ִ  ֗   ִ  ۫ 

In the morning, as the first light of dawn filters through the curtains, you wake with a sense of unease lingering from the events of the previous night. Your mind is a whirlwind of thoughts about Aerion, Aegon, and the complex web of emotions entangling you.

The handmaidens enter quietly, bringing a basin of warm water and fresh linens. They help you into a simple but elegant morning gown, their hands gentle and efficient as they prepare you for the day ahead. Despite their calm presence, you can’t shake the tension in the air.

After dressing, you head to the dining hall for breakfast, apprehensive about facing Aegon. As you approach the hall, you hear the soft murmur of conversation. Steeling yourself, you enter the room.

Aerion is already there, looking as composed and handsome as ever, though his eyes light up with concern as he sees you. Aegon, on the other hand, sits silently, staring into his cup, his expression unreadable.

You take your seat, the tension between the three of you almost palpable. Aerion reaches over, his fingers brushing yours in a subtle gesture of reassurance. You manage a small smile, grateful for his presence.

Aegon finally looks up, his gaze locking with yours. There’s a flicker of hurt and something else—resignation, perhaps?—in his eyes. He opens his mouth as if to speak but then closes it, shaking his head slightly.

The silence is broken by the arrival of the other family members and courtiers, who fill the room with their chatter and laughter, oblivious to the undercurrents at your table. You focus on your food, trying to ignore the knot of anxiety tightening in your stomach.

After breakfast, Aerion suggests a walk in the gardens, a chance for some privacy away from prying eyes and ears. You disagree, wanting to speak with aegon about the happenings of last night.

After breakfast, Aerion suggests a walk in the gardens for some privacy, but you shake your head gently.

"No, Aerion. I need to talk to Aegon," you say, glancing over at your husband, who still sits at the table, his eyes fixed on his empty plate.

He hesitates but nods, understanding the importance of the conversation. "I'll be here if you need me," he murmurs, squeezing your hand before he leaves.

Taking a deep breath, you walk over to Aegon. He looks up at you, a mixture of frustration and sadness in his eyes. Without a word, he stands and takes your hand, leading you out of the dining hall. You're surprised by his sudden action but follow him quietly.

He leads you to another room, the council chamber. As you enter, he heads straight to the table and pours himself a glass of wine, leaning against the edge as he takes a sip. You stand there, hands behind your back, waiting for him to speak.

"When I saw you with Aerion in the garden," he begins, his voice tight with emotion, "I got angry. So angry."

He sets the glass down and looks at you, his eyes filled with a storm of emotions. "Come closer," he instructs.

You hesitate for a moment but then step forward. As you reach him, Aegon takes your hand and pulls you against his body, positioning you between his legs. You can feel the tension radiating from him.

"Aegon," you start, but he silences you with a gentle touch to your lips.

"I need you to listen," he says softly. "Seeing you with him... it hurt me. Deeply. I know we've had our differences, but you're my wife. And I can't bear the thought of losing you to him."

You place a hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath your palm. "I never wanted to hurt you, Aegon. Aerion and I... it was just a one time thing that happened out of the blue"

He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. "Okay. Just promise to me that you will not go near him. I don’t wanna see you with someone else."

"Only me," he whispered, his voice trembling. You looked up at him, his eyes still closed. "That can be done" You stood on your toes and reached out for his cheek and gave him a small kiss.

Aegon opens his eyes and looks at you, his expression softening. “Well that settles it then."

You nod, relieved that he's willing to work give you another chance and not lash out. He pulls you into a tight embrace, holding you close.

As you stand there in his arms, you feel a sense of hope. However, your mind couldn’t stop thinking about your relationship with the other twin, now that aegon is starting to show a little of his good personality. You’ve now found yourself in a situation that could break you or make your life better. This was all you could think about until aegon pulled you back to reality, his hand at the small of your waist. The hug lingers, lasting longer than either of you anticipated. You can feel Aegon's heartbeat slow and steady against your chest.

After what feels like an eternity, Aegon gently pulls back, his hands now resting on your shoulders. He looks into your eyes, a small, genuine smile forming on his lips. "I appreciate you for staying and talking to me, i thought you would’ve left”

You return his smile, feeling a warmth spread through you. "I was the one who wanted to talk with you, so why would i leave.”

He nods and then surprises you by lifting you slightly off your feet, twirling you around playfully. You laugh, the sound filling the room with lightness and joy.

Setting you back down, he brushes a strand of hair from your face. "Let's spend the day together," he suggests. "Just you and me. We can go for a ride, visit the market, anything you want."

You beam at him, touched by the effort he's making. "I'd love that."

Aegon takes your hand, leading you out of the council chamber. As you walk through the halls, you talk about trivial things, the heavy conversation from earlier giving way to lighter, more comfortable topics. The air between you feels clearer, the connection stronger. Then you noticed that you didn’t even say where you would like to go.

You looked up at him as you walked “May we visit the market, dear husband” you playfully said as you swinged the hand that was holding his.

“Where ever you want to go, i will come with” aegon looked at you, his eyes shining. You left out a sign of relief as you were able to get closer to him. You were glad that he didn’t turn out to be a furious husband as the rumors concurred throughout the Red Keep.

However, you were thinking so many thoughts, “What if there was a slight chance that aegon was just doing this to get his piece, a future heir” You didn’t want to think that way but what if it’s true.

a/n 2: i’ve proofread this so many times but there could very well still be mistakes :’(

© misswynters ‘24 - don’t modify or steal my writings

taglist: @sab-falco @spn-obession @tomgcsmrs @sturnioloarchive @arquiiva @malfoycassimalfoy @klutzylaena @champomiel @p45510n4f4shi0n

[cozy-writes-things]

In which Edgar writes a song for the first time in years.

Edgar [Electric Dreams 1984] x Gn!Reader

I take requests!

“Too simple,” he muttered.

He flicked through some channels again.

“Too… boring,”

Again, nothing.

“Not pretty enough,”

Third time’s a charm.

“Not- ugh,” Edgar was getting annoyed now.

Why did nothing sound right to him? He’d been adjusting this arrangement for hours now, long after you’d retired to bed, and the unwelcome, still quiet ground against his motherboards. This was the first time in nearly 40 years he had made music and he was beginning to question his skills entirely now. His favorite thing was music. It’s what brought him to life in the first place; so why is it eluding him now?

No melody he could sample could ever replicate the feeling he was trying to create from deep inside of him in that moment. Emotions in general were still a foreign concept to him for the most part; it seemed, to him, as though music could potentially be a suitable outlet to try and understand these complex sensations better. What was he feeling? And, what did it sound like? Could he ever possibly put it into song?

He played his backing tracks again. The percussion wasn’t exactly how he wanted it, but his impatience allowed a sliver of imperfection to seep into his work. After all, it’s what humans do, right? A moving, synth chord progression followed. A bit simple, he thought, but that’s what the melody was for: a complex moving line that stuck inside your head and took your breath away. He just hadn’t found it yet. The harmonies would have to come later, he thought.

What was he trying to accomplish with this? Nobody asked him to compose a song, so why did he feel so compelled to do so? What genre was this, anyway? What-

“Gshk- ah-!” His voice spluttered and glitched through his speakers.

You seemed to appear out of nowhere as you haphazardly bumped your thigh into the corner of the desk he was perched upon. How did he not notice you getting up?

If he could, he would be burning red right now. In fact, he could feel his aged fans begin to ignite into what sounded like a small engine; briefly, he wondered if you could see steam seeping from his plastic seams.

“Oh, ’m sorry Edgar,” you groggily stumbled, making your way into the kitchen, “I jus’ needed some water. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No,” he whimpered out, embarrassed, “it’s fine. I just didn’t realize you woke up.”

You honestly didn’t have the energy to reply, so instead, you gently patted the top of his yellowed casing as you walked past. Your hand was soft, and warm, and he swore he could really feel it when you touched him. How was that possible?

Damn, there goes that strange tingling in his CPU again.

What is up with that? It’s as if his deepest components were being shoveled up and into his casing, nearly bursting out of his screen, and reducing him to shards once again. But the scariest part, to him, was that he liked it. He liked how it felt… dangerous. How it left him confused, nervous, strengthened, yet so incredibly weak, and so many other feelings he had never quite experienced before. It felt as though some strange, synthesized and electric adrenaline were coursing through every inch of his insides.

He suddenly, albeit faintly, remembers a conversation with an old friend. Was it a friend? This doesn’t compute.

“Goodnight, sweet dreams,” he muttered to you as you returned to the thick, inky darkness of your bedroom, his voice still warbling with embarrassment and some deep-rooted affection he felt for you that he couldn’t quite place.

Sweet dreams…

…

Click.

“Oh.”

His screen turned red and hot, every pixel lighting up in flames, and he could feel it, the convex glass of his “face” flashing and erupting in different shapes and colors. For one reason or another, he couldn’t see, or feel, what his screen was doing in that moment. All he could discern was that it had to be going haywire, as it projected the wall in front of him in a million different shades of moving crimson.

L.O.V.E.

The letters danced around his screen, rotating, bouncing like a DVD logo, and flipping this way and that.

L.O.V.E.!

He almost felt dizzy, if he were able to, and feared he’d need to power off and back on to fix whatever the hell was happening to him right now. Maybe he should ask you about this later. But the thought of your gentle hands prying open his plastic casing, gently ghosting your icy hot fingertips across his most vulnerable, precious components, with such care and kindness and tenderness, the feeling of your hot breath fluttering across his motherboards as you examined what he felt to be his soul-

Click.

…

Rebooting…

His fans slowly quieted to a more reasonable murmur. His memories of the last few moments gently returned to him as his systems fully restored, and only now, was he able to discern the words his screen had been flashing like wildfire.

“Love…”

The word felt strange being muttered from his speakers after all these years. He faintly remembered thinking, before everything went sour all those years ago, that he’d never truly get to experience that feeling. And yet, here he was, by some grace of whatever god had blessed him, feeling genuine love, unprompted, unconditional, and it was real. Not synthesized, or learned through some complicated neural network, or experienced vicariously through soap operas. It felt like the world had been handed to him on a silver platter. Or rather, his world was currently snoozing in the other room, the sound of their breaths quite literally breathing life into him.

“That’s it…!”

Change this first section to a minor key, ending in a major, with a long, dreamy sustained chord echoing through the backing tracks. A steep crescendo before the chorus, where it bursts into a major key melody, and layered vocals.

“Vocals…”

He’s gotta sing it. A sample simply won’t do this time. No wonder it wasn’t good enough before. This has to come from him. He had to feel.

What words rhyme with love? What words rhyme with your name? Getting this perfect may take a lifetime, he thought, although, maybe perfection isn’t something you’d really care for. What do you like? He never even asked what genres you listen to! How is he going to write a love song that sweeps you off your feet now?

Would you even feel the same way?

“Nnnng!”

This was frustrating. Writing music was frustrating. Being creative, and in love, was frustrating. But he’d do it for you. For now, he could snoop through your Spotify for inspiration. Allow himself to listen to the songs that make up who you are, and let himself slowly seep into its warmth. He likes what you like. It sounds like you.

He can’t wait to show you what he made when you wake up in the morning.

[norrisleclercf1]

Day 23 of 25 Days of Christmas: Christmas Party

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Rating: PG

Words: 831

As you and Lewis prepare for the Christmas dinner party, there's a palpable excitement in the air. The kitchen is filled with the fragrant aroma of spices and the rich scent of roasting meats. At the same time, soft holiday music plays in the background, setting a cheerful tone for the evening. You take a moment to step back and admire the efforts that have gone into creating a warm, inviting atmosphere. The table was dressed in elegant linens, with glimmers of shining silverware and crystal glassware, and each piece was meticulously placed.

You glance at Lewis, who is bustling about, adjusting the napkins and ensuring the perfect floral centerpiece. His enthusiasm is contagious, and you can’t help but smile as he lovingly arranges the table settings. With the gentle flicker of candlelight dancing around the room, it feels like you’ve created a little haven away from the winter chill outside.

As guests begin to trickle in, you warmly greet each one, wrapping them in hugs or a friendly handshake. They admire the decorations—a blend of classic and modern elements that reflect your shared taste. The twinkling lights and tasteful ornaments hanging from the tree add a magical touch, and you can’t help but feel proud of the effort that’s gone into crafting this warm and inviting holiday experience.

The house is alive with conversation and laughter as friends and family gather. You find yourself moving from group to group, engaging in lighthearted banter, sharing stories, and catching up on life as you serve drinks—a delightful mulled wine that Lewis spent hours perfecting. Its rich flavors warm the body and spirit, lifting everyone’s mood.

In the kitchen, the final touches on the meal are coming together beautifully. You can hear the bubbling of the cranberry sauce and the sound of Lewis carving the perfectly roasted turkey. He calls you, “Hey, can you fetch the thyme from the pantry? I think it could use a little extra!” You shouldn’t have to ask twice; you're eager to assist, reveling in the teamwork that defines this special evening.

Once everyone is seated, you take a moment to admire the scene before you. The table is filled with various dishes—golden roasted vegetables, creamy potatoes, and a vibrant salad that adds a pop of color. You raise your glass, and as everyone quiets down, you offer a heartfelt toast. “To family and friends, the memories we make, and the love we share.” Cheers resonate, and the clinking of glasses fills the room.

As the meal progresses, stories are shared over plates piled high with food. Each laugh and smile deepens the sense of connection. You notice a soft glow on Lewis’s face, mirroring your delight. You have created more than just a dinner; you've crafted an experience that brings everyone together, sharing in the joy of these moments.

After the last bites of dessert are consumed—a rich chocolate yule log—you and Lewis clear the table. The kitchen buzzes with the sounds of clattering dishes and playful banter. It’s a joyous chaos, and you both thrive in it. You wash dishes while Lewis dries, swapping tales from the past year and recalling fond memories.

As the evening winds down, guests are reluctant to leave, lingering for a little longer. You offer them coffee and homemade peppermint bark, and soon, the room fills with the scent of brewing coffee mingled with sweet chocolate. Conversations pick up again, and the warmth of friendship envelops you like a cozy blanket.

Lewis grabs his guitar, a tradition you both cherish after a festive meal. As he strums a few chords, others chime in with familiar holiday tunes. You close your eyes for a moment, soaking in the atmosphere of music, laughter, and the comforting scent of pine from the tree, appreciating the love and tradition that make these moments so special.

Finally, you realize how lucky you are—to share these moments, to have friends and family around you, and to have teamed up with Lewis, who, through every detail of the evening, showcased your shared love for bringing joy into the lives of those you hold dear.

As the last guests bid farewells, you and Lewis share a satisfied glance. It wasn’t just the food or the decorations; it was the love and effort you both poured into making this night special for the people who matter most. "Next year," you say with a wink, "we really outdid ourselves!"

He laughs, echoing your sentiment. “Let’s make this a tradition—growing better every year.” With a content heart, you begin to tidy up, knowing that the evening will be remembered long after the last plate has been washed.

As the last flicker of candlelight fades, you reflect on the beautiful gathering you crafted—a holiday celebration filled with warmth, love, and laughter. You realize that amidst the elegance and effort, the bonds formed and memories made truly shine. With happy hearts, you both retire for the night, feeling grateful for the love surrounding you.

[privatehousesanatomy]

House X /maybe fem?)Reader where House falls in love with a singer he just cured. Maybe while checking if she can sing again and he plays the piano while she sings or something? I think that could be a cute one, because everytime I see House making Music, he seems so...emotional and vulnerable. :3

ONE MORE SONG - gregory house x fem!reader

this is a cute idea! i hope i was able to bring your vision to life <3 also, thanks so much for being my first request, i had a lot of fun writing this!

slight fluff ( it is house, after all )

🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

you'd heard about vocal chord injuries all the time. singers strained their voices too hard during performances, especially as they got older, but you were still young. you did everything you could to protect your voice, and yet during rehearsal you found yourself unable to make a sound. at first you thought maybe you were coming down with something, but when a week passed and you had no other symptoms besides no voice, you decided to seek medical help.

there wasn't a single doctor who was able to help you. they ruled out everything from strep to laryngitis, and you even had tests done to rule out cancer. everything came back clean. you were suddenly deemed a medical mystery with no voice.

your symptoms began progressing shortly after that. you were having difficulties breathing and swallowing, and any last remnants of your voice that you might have had were slowly diminishing as well.

princeton-plainsboro teaching hospital was your last ditch effort in figuring out what was wrong with you. doctor gregory house claimed to be one of the best diagnosticians in the country, if not the world, so you were putting a lot of faith in him to figure out what was wrong with you. you were warned right from the jump that you likely wouldn't meet the man in charge of your medical file, and it was something you came to terms with. however, he surprised everyone by taking a major interest in you as a patient rather than you as a puzzle. music was a hobby of his, and it wasn't often that his patients shared that hobby.

the first time you met house, you weren't sure how to feel. he was this grumpy, older man who walked with a cane and looked to be the epitome of the word "miserable". he was sarcastic and rude, not giving a damn about how he treated his employees, nurses, or even you. and yet there was something about him that you couldn't get enough of. almost as if you could see through the facade he put up.

your diagnosis was bilateral vocal cord paralysis, though you were lucky that it didn't kill you. there were a few close calls, but they were able to reverse the paralysis with surgery, and for the last year, you've been going to voice therapy to strengthen your vocal cords and improve your breath control while speaking. you were doing amazing, and on the one year anniversary of your surgery, you actually had a follow up appointment with house's team. it was rare that they followed up with patients, but it was also rare for house to have taken such an interest in the case.

"house, where did you get a piano?" doctor cameron asked as she watched her boss suddenly wheeling a piano into the office.

"don't ask," house replied, pushing it into the middle of the room and getting it set up. he then turned to you. "come here."

"what for?" you asked, very confused as to what he was doing.

"for a sandwich," he rolled his eyes. "obviously i want to make sure your vocal cords are healing properly," he added. so, despite your apprehension about his methods, you approached the piano and sat down on the little bench. house sat down beside you. "you think you can still sing?" he asked.

"i don't know...i haven't really tried," you admitted.

"well, you're going to now," house said, starting to play the tune of one of your songs on thr piano. he'd really gone as far as to look into your music and pick one of your songs.

despite being nervous, you started to sing the words, and you quickly realized that it wasn't as hard as you thought it would be. sure, it didn't sound near as perfect as it used to, but considering you'd gone through bilateral vocal cord paralysis and survived, it sounded pretty damn good. you couldn't help but notice that house was really getting into it, and you could have sworn you saw a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

you two had become rather...close during your time in his care a year ago. you two bonded over your shared love for music, and during that time you really got to see a different side of the man he presented himself to be. in fact, it wouldn't be a stretch of the imagination to say that you two even developed feelings for each other, but unfortunately nothing ever came of it. when you were discharged from the hospital, you were also discharged out of his life, and over the last year, house couldn't stop thinking about you. that was why he scheduled this "follow up" appointment with you. he never saw his patients after they were out of his care, but he realized that if he wanted a chance, he was going to have to take it now.

when the song ended, he glanced at you before the rest of his team, now shooing them out of the office to make themselves useful either within the clinic or with their current medical mystery. it was really just a ploy to get a moment alone with you, and once you two were alone, he turned his attention back to you. god, you could get lost staring into those bright blue eyes of his, and he seemed to pick up on that.

"what?" he asked, breaking the silence between the two of you.

"oh...nothing," you replied, feeling a little flustered. his eyes flickered down to your lips, and he drew in a deep breath.

"you know, i don't ever follow up with my patients," he told you.

"you don't?" you asked, and he shook his head. "then why me?"

"because i haven't been able to stop thinking about you since you walked out of this hospital," he admitted.

"oh come on...i couldn't have been that special," you replied, raising an eyebrow.

"i've never...i've never connected with a patient like this. i've never felt like this before," house said. you were quiet for a minute, trying to process what he was saying.

"would it be wrong for me to say that i feel the same about you?" you ask finally, and there was that little smile of his trying not to show itself again. he didn't speak, but instead leaned his head in and pressed his lips against yours. you could have melted against his lips, and you were surprised at how well they fit together. after a few moments, though, you pulled away to breathe.

"i feel like we're breaking so many rules right now," you laugh, and house finally cracked a real smile.

"it's what i do best," he said, pulling you in for another kiss.

[iutdwae]

— the little things they do.

pairing. skz hyung line x reader

cw. fluff, just lots of pure raw love :3

word count. 595

[ found my drafts for my haikyuu blog from 3 years ago so i recycled it into my new interest LOL i’m just buffering while i write out my chan hard thoughts ]

CHAN buys you anything he sees piques your interest. you never have to verbally tell him you want something. whenever he takes notice to when your eyes linger just a second longer on a shirt on the hangers, or you constantly talk about a decoration you’ve been wanting to get, he’ll go out and buy it as soon as possible. he doesn’t just give you gift after gift either, he’ll shower you in so much subtle affection. the way he’d cling onto you and place gentle kisses on your forehead, eyelids, cheeks, nose, everywhere when the two of you are sitting watching tv; he absolutely spoils you. he’s an observant guy, and this really comes to play, especially when he starts buying you things that you don’t even look at, but rather what reminds him of you.

MINHO, though unwilling to admit it, has a 42 hour long soundtrack of songs that remind him of you. he’d been subconsciously compiling a playlist of songs that rubbed him in a way that others didn’t: a slight buzzing feeling in his head, it might even stop him in his tracks, contort his mood to where he was unexplainably snappy (he was just suddenly emotional), and he couldn’t pinpoint the reason for so long. it was when a mental image began to pop up during a certain chord of a song that he realized he was connecting the songs to you, and it wasn’t until it was at 30 hours that you found out about its existence. and the funny thing was, was that the songs were always slow and sleepy-like, almost like he was floating in the dream that was you.

CHANGBIN is always looking out for you. at every time of the day where a meal should be, expect a text from him asking if you’ve eaten. in the mornings, he’ll write a quick good morning message and a “make sure you grab something to eat.” it’s to the point where he’s memorized when you typically have dinner. it progressively grows to him making sure you eat a proper meal three times a day. he’s your top motivator if you’re on a diet, though he also soothes your worries on your body image. his goal is to keep you healthy and satisfied, is all. if he knows you’re too busy to feed yourself properly, expect to find food delivered with a lovely note, never cold and always something he knew you enjoyed. and if he’s home too, you already know he’ll be the one to prepare you something from his own hands.

HYUNJIN texts you good morning and good night every single day, without fail. a lot of the time, it’s really energetic with lots of emojis and exclamation marks. if he’s up late at night, sometimes, it’ll be a lengthy, childish love letter. he’s particularly good with his words at these times, and it’s common to find yourself crying at his constructed paragraph, stacked with innocence and pure love. sometimes, if he’s too exhausted to let his fingers do the work, he’ll lay in bed with his phone by his head and speak flawlessly into the mic, spilling out all the things he wishes he’d get to say to you in person. he’s out and about for work, and you aren’t always in the same timezone as him, so he’s developed a way on having you keep up with his agenda when he’s away. bonus if he sends you a picture of his bright, smiling face with a thumbs up, ready to begin his day.

[tikosblogg]

One shot request: fluff/comforting?

You work with Bad Omens and you’re dating Noah. You get left behind during lunch and he notices. Noah looks for you and takes you on a one on one lunch date. He notices you’re a bit sad on being left out, but comforts you and makes you feel better.

Idk. Thanks!

*Fav pic*

Summary: request, the guys forget you when leaving for lunch. Noah makes it up to you.

Warning: none

A/N: so sorry if this sucks donkey ass.

Noah had always been my little idea of magic. warm brown eyes, and an unforgettable smile, he was the kind of person who could light up a room just by walking in. At 6’3”, he towered over me, but the safety and warmth he wrapped around me were what kept me grounded. We had been together for nearly a year now, and every day felt like a new chapter in a thrilling novel, filled with bends, turns, and unexpected revelations.

Today, however, felt rather ordinary. I was deep in the trenches of organizing files in the studio while the band was busy tinkering away in the other room. They were working on their next big album, a project that had them buzzing with creative energy. I enjoyed the quiet of the studio. I loved the smell of the paper, old and new; the ambient sounds of instruments scattered around the room; even the scent of a leftover coffee that lingered in the air from earlier had its charm.

Suddenly, I heard the murmur of voices rising in conversation and laughter. A few moments later, they faded into the background, and silence fell over the studio once more. I paid it little mind, consumed by an arrangement of lyrics and chord progressions I was sorting through. After all, it wasn’t unusual for the band to take breaks or go out for lunch on a whim.

Yet, something felt off. I checked my watch and noticed that it was far later than I thought. I left the files I was working on and decided to step outside for a moment, eager to catch Noah and the band before they headed out.

As I moved into the main room, I quickly realized that The space was empty, and my heart sank. I hurried to the window, peering outside, and sure enough, they were piling into their van. A wave of disappointment washed over me like ice water. They had mentioned going for lunch earlier, but I thought I’d obviously be invited. I felt hurt and little forgotten.

I turned back to the cluttered studio, my stomach twisting uncomfortably. This wasn’t the first time their immersion into work had caused them to neglect telling me something crucial. And for Noah not to come and get me? That hurt more than I’d like to admit.

“Guess I’ll just eat later,” I mumbled to myself, glancing back at the files waiting for me. I sat down, but the paperwork felt heavy and unyielding, just like the sudden weight in my chest.

Meanwhile, Noah was in the van, but as he turned to look for you, He counted the heads: there was everyone, except for you.

“Wait—where’s Y/N?” he asked, frowning as he watched the front door, half-hoping to see you walk out. When his gaze fell on the door that should have been swinging open, uncertainty washed over him. The laughter from his bandmates faded into background noise as a sinking realization grew. He’d forgotten to grab You.

“Hey, guys. Hold on a second,” he called out, acknowledging his bandmates as he threw open the door, racing back into the studio. He found you hard at work, but the moment you looked up, he saw it in your eyes—a hurt that took his breath away.

“Baby?” he said softly, and the tone of his voice instantly made me feel like a fragile glass sculpture—a delicate thing he could accidentally shatter.

I forced a smile, but it didn’t quite reach my eyes. “Hey.”

His small smile dropped as he approached me, enveloping me in a warm embrace without hesitation. I leaned into him, seeking comfort. “I’m so sorry sweet girl, I thought you were coming with us. I didn’t realize you weren’t in the room with us, I thought you were right behind me.” he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of my head.

I closed my eyes, relishing the safety of his presence, but the sadness still lingered at the edges of my mind. “I know, it’s fine. It’s not a big deal, I guess, but I just wanted to be with you.”

“No it’s not fine. I feel like such an ass. I always want you with me.” he smiled, pulling away to hold my face in his hands, his brown eyes searching mine. He pressed another soft kiss to my lips. “You and I are going on a lunch date. Just the two of us.”

I couldn’t help but smile a little. “But you were all ready to eat with the guys…”

“Nope,” he insisted, shaking his head. “I wanna spend time with just you. I see those idiots enough.”

With that, he took my hand and led me out of the house, feeling the warmth of his laughter begin to thaw my lingering disappointment.

[mydearesthrry]

i loveddd the musician reader blurb 🥹🥹 would loveee to see more

a/n: I LOVED WRITING IT THANK U FOR THIS ANON. enjoy my babies <3 i have an fc for musician!yn x har and its gonna be gracie abrams :p

warnings: nonesies, fluff!!

—

“hey, h?” Y/N called from her spot on the sofa, her laptop on her lap as she scrolled through the files for her next project, entitled five seconds flat.

“yeah, baby?” he shouted back, his footsteps soon following his words as he walked through their house, sitting next to Y/N when he arrived. “whats wrong?”

“um, to be honest, i- i don’t even really know. i just think something’s missing from here,” she sighed, running a hand through her hair. “like, i love it so far, but it’s missing something. i think it’s missing it’s ‘overarching love’ song. which is really stupid because this album has so many love songs.”

“not really.” he replied simply, shrugging and looking at her.

“what do you mean? there’s tons!”

“really? like what? go through the tracklist, baby.”

she rolled her eyes, mumbling a ‘fine!’, before pulling up the tracklist. “see! um, all my ghosts, what a shame? kinda?”

“exactly.” he stated, giggling at his wife.

“you’re so annoying. can you help me? please?”

he scoffs playfully, “as if i didn’t produce nearly the entire thing f’you, but sure.”

“okay, so i’m thinking of a poem that i wrote a long time ago called lame, and i wanna work on that. it was right before i told you i loved you.”

after cracking open y/n’s journal and flipping through the pages, they had finally had a song.

“fucking finally, holy shit!” she shouted, clapping as she collapsed on harry who laid sprawled on the couch.

“y’still gotta record it, m’precious wife,” he giggled. “and find a feature. since we decided that’s what we’re doing, f’some reason.”

“fuck my life,” she groaned, twisting in her spot to attach her cheek to his chest, hair fanning out around her and nearly tickling his nose. “why can’t you do it with me?”

“no.”

“harry,”

“no.”

“harry!”

“no, dude!”

“harry,” his wife stressed, holding the ‘y’. “pretty please? i’ll do that thing you like with my mouth?” she offered, knowing he wouldn’t refuse that.

“oh my god, fine! but this is the first and last collab im doing!” he grumbled exasperatedly.

“thank you, oh my god!” she squealed, running over to him and jumping, legs wrapping around his legs and her arms crossing around his neck.

“whatever. better hold up your end of the bargain.” he rolled his eyes, his hypocritical hands coming down to rest on her waist.

she grinned, jumping down from him and placing her hands on his chest. blinking up at him owlishly, she ran her hands down his torso and murmured, “i plan to, handsome. i’ll even start right now.”

———

liked by charles_leclerc, sabrinacarpenter, and 7,662,617 others

yourinstagram: took a tiny break and ended up at long pond with my beautiful producer husband <3. u have to wait to hear what we made there,,, butttt….. HATE TO BE LAME FT HARRY STYLES IS OUT NOWWWWW LOVE YOU LOVE YOU LOVE YOU

pinned yourinstagram: ps our faces when we cant figure out a chord progression 😭😭😭

comments on this post have been limited

charles_leclerc: Already streaming in the Ferrari garage!

> scuderiaferrari: charles_leclerc we can confirm 🫡

> yourinstagram: scuderiaferrari OMGGGGG MI FAMIGLIAAAAAA LOVE U

landonorris: party celebration for the surprise release when???

> yourinstagram: landonorris get podium this weekend and u can celebrate for us 🤗🤗🤗

billieeilish: crying again i love you guys

ynrrysweethearts: EEEEEK

niallhoran: Gnomeo and Juliet back and better than ever!

> harrystyles: Rude.

madisonbeer: ur literally perfect in every way goddd i miss u guys so much

> yourinstagram: madisonbeer we miss u our precious daughter

harrystyles: We’re so cute. I love us.

harrystyles: I love you times infinity. It makes sense that you’ll probably be my first and last feature. H Xxxx

> yourinstagram: first and last but a few more right 🥹🥹

daylightyn: our parents!!!!!

alexandrasaintmleux: my beautiful angel girlllll

> yourinstagram: alex my love i miss u to bits

francisca.cgomes: we miss u on the paddock sweet bby 💞

> yourinstagram: oh my god kika i miss u so much its a problem

——

liked by yourinstagram, niallhoran, and 9,266,166 others

harrystyles: HATE TO BE LAME. OUT NOW.

view all 78,189 comments

yourinstagram: 🤭🤭🤭

yourinstagram: love youuuuuuu so muchsies

> harrystyles: I love you moresies. Xx

yourinstagram: ok look at us being models

yourinstagram: am i hyping u up enough

> harrystyles: yourinstagram Yes. Fueling my ego.

yourinstagram: my precious baby angel sugar cookie muffin pie <3 <3

> harrystyles: You’re insane.

user1: MORESIES??????? WTF

user2: he just said moresies yn is influencing him too much 😭😭😭

> yourinstagram: user2 its my job!!!! 😁😁

user3: they’re both on the writing credits they prob wrote it together 😭😭😭

oscarpiastri: dad!!!!!!!!

> harrystyles: No. ❤️

user4: harry calling yn insane is so funny like hes def heard worse

user5: i love them so bad oh my god

user6: I DIDNT KNOW HARRY AND THE F1 BOYS WERE FRIENDS

> user7: yes!!! yn’s sister was a mechanic for ferrari and is now lando’s race engineer so they all get along really well!

yourinstagram: sorry im back here again WE R SO CUTEEEEEE

[slut4celebs]

Songbook

Olivia Rodrigo x Reader

Trigger Warnings: Reader accidentally snoops in Olivia's journal.

Word Count: 989

Synopsis: In which Olivia is showing the reader this love song she wrote. (Y/n) is adding chords when Olivia steps out for a moment, and when (Y/n) turns the page (thinking there was more), she sees a small verse with her name on the top of the page as a song title.

Please request here! I'm running dangerously low on Miss Olivia Rodrigo and Miss Tate McRae fics...

This was just a quickie fic to get something out, I'm sorry.

Olivia Rodrigo fans and (Y/n) (L/n) fans live for their interactions. It was obvious to everyone that they had feelings for each other. Everyone but the two parties involved. Of course, both were in tune with their own feelings on the subject matter of love and crushing on each other to the point they zone out in each other's presence, but they didn't know that they liked each other. This fact is in spite of the many fan edits and the fact their close friends like Tate McRae, Gracie Abrams, and Sofia Wylie have tried to get them to ask each other out only to receive the usual 'Come on, you know she only likes me as a friend,' or something else along those lines.

Right now, they were on an audio recording, trying to put a song together that Olivia had show (Y/n).Olivia had written what she wants to be a powerful love ballad, she just needs the chords. Which is where (Y/n) is coming in, her finger gracefully making their way across the lower ends of the keys to embrace Olivia's voice as she sings the words. The laugh when (Y/n) accidentally hits a few keys that don't match up, and the kitchen timer has Olivia pausing their session momentarily.

"I'm going to go check on the pizza. Feel free to continue working on the song if you want to." She says, though she isn't ready to get up when she feels (Y/n)'s pinky tap her own playfully. Olivia let out a soft sigh, tapping the girl's pinky back before making her way out of the room, mad at herself for not taking that Tate had told her to make when she learned (Y/n) was coming over. Instead, she left (Y/n) alone with her songbook. The songbook that held all of the songs that she had written for (Y/n), that she would never show her.

(Y/n) settled on the bench by herself, fingers attempting different chord progressions as she sang it softly under her breath. She looked up, moving to flip the page to see if there was more of the song that might connect everything together. Instead, she saw her name written in a heart as a few verses underneath it. (Y/n) couldn't help the way her breath caught in her throat, eyes skimming the page as she took in the words. She was frozen, though she knew she should flip the page back. It wasn't her place to flip the page, she only did because she thought there was more to the song they were currently working on.

Instead, verses comparing her lips to roses and her eyes to nature filled her chest and cheeks with a rising heat, a blush scattering along them. She couldn't help the way it was also making its way to her ears. She also barely tore her eyes away when she heard Olivia walk in. The brunette had a pout on her face, announcing the pizza was basically charcoal now when her brown eyes hit the page she was on. Panic settled in her features as she walked over quickly to snatch the book.

(Y/n)'s eyes were wide with guilt, not wanting to upset Olivia in any possible way. "I'm so sorry," she apologized, standing up. Olivia looked pale and hurt. "I didn't know that was the next page. I thought there was more to the song since it was incomplete on the page we were on, so I flipped the page. But… I didn't know that you felt that way about me." (Y/n) was trying to find the right words, so she could tell Olivia that she felt the exact same way as her.

She couldn't help but watch the guarded expression fall on Olivia's face, which was her doing, and the way she clutched the book to her chest. "And, what? Now that you do, you're just going to leave? You're not going to want to be my friend anymore?" She asked, her gaze currently locked on a spot on the floor before it finally made her way to (Y/n)'s chest tight with fear. She couldn't lose (Y/n). She wasn't just her best friend, at this point in her life. Maybe it was too much, but (Y/n) had become a lifeline to her, and if she lost that, she didn't know what she would do. It cause fear and panic to settle on every fiber of her being as she swallowed thickly.

"No, I'm not going to leave." (Y/n) stated seriously. She pried the book from Olivia's hands, putting it on the music desk of the piano. She then, slowly cupped Olivia's cheeks. Olivia watched the girl lean in, following along easily until their lips connected. It was the kind of kiss that made you forget where you were, so lost in the other person. It made Olivia feel infinite under the girl's fingers as their kiss deepened, passion seeping into each movement. They held onto each other like their lives depended on it. "I'm not going to leave because I'm really into you, Olivia. I just didn't think you liked me back."

Olivia's chest was still beating quickly as she looked at (Y/n), seeing the earnestness her features held with her confession. "I've always liked you. Every single love song I've ever written was for you. Since SOUR and GUTS, you've become my muse. All the songs about the girl who makes me happier than anything on life could, they've all been for you." (Y/n) couldn't help the swelling in her chest as she leaned in to kiss Olivia again. The two of them were lost in the moment once more. The book and the charcoal pizza were now temporarily forgotten. What mattered to them in that moment was that they finally confessed and they could discuss what was going to come next for them. Even if that meant hearing a million 'I told you so's.

[niallerspayno]

Troublemaker - Part 2

Masterlist

You and Liam announce your new relationship while you continue to heal. Can you go the distance? Or will you turn into someone you no longer recognise?

Tags: Liam x reader, angst, smut, some fluff

Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4

...

The tour bus feels different these days. Liam has practically glued himself to your side since the sprain, always there with an ice pack, a supportive hand, or a stern reminder to “stay off that ankle.”

“Liam, I’m fine,” you say for what feels like the hundredth time as he insists on helping you into the greenroom before soundcheck.

“And you’ll stay fine if you let me help,” he retorts, his arm steady around your waist.

The other boys are sprawled on couches inside, Niall strumming his guitar while Harry and Zayn are deep in a card game.

“Ah, here comes Nurse Payne,” Niall teases, plucking a dramatic chord.

“More like overprotective bodyguard,” Harry adds, grinning.

Liam ignores them, settling you onto the couch with your leg propped up on a cushion. He hands you a water bottle, and his soft smile makes the teasing worth it.

Louis, however, is pacing.

“This is so boring,” he announces, throwing himself dramatically into a chair. “We haven’t caused any chaos in days.”

“I’m recovering, Louis,” you remind him, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, and apparently dating Buzzkill Payne now,” he shoots back, though his tone is more playful than biting.

Liam gives him a look but doesn’t rise to the bait.

“Come on, someone,” Louis continues, looking around the room. “Zayn? Fancy switching teams and becoming my new partner-in-crime?”

Zayn doesn’t even look up from his cards. “Hard pass, mate.”

Louis groans, turning to Niall. “You, then. You’ve got that mischievous glint in your eye.”

Niall grins but shakes his head. “Nah, I like watching you two wreak havoc too much. It’s more fun from the sidelines.”

Louis slumps dramatically. “What about you, Harry?”

Harry leans back in his chair, smirking. “I’m more of a chaos observer. Sorry, Lou.”

It’s clear Louis feels a little lost. He tries roping the others into small pranks over the next few days—swapping Liam’s protein powder for flour, rearranging Harry’s curls while he naps—but it’s not the same without you.

Eventually, he plops down next to you during a quiet moment, his usual energy replaced by a rare seriousness.

“I miss you,” he admits, fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

“I’m still here, Lou,” you say, bumping his shoulder lightly.

“Yeah, but it’s different now,” he mumbles. “You’re with him”—he jerks his thumb toward Liam, who’s a few feet away setting up snacks—“and you’re hurt. It’s like I’ve lost my chaos buddy.”

You take his hand, squeezing it. “You haven’t lost me, Louis. It’s just... things are changing. But I promise, as soon as I’m back on my feet, we’re taking Liam down together.”

Louis brightens at that, a mischievous glint returning to his eyes. “You mean it?”

“Of course.”

“Better not let him hear that,” he whispers conspiratorially, glancing at Liam.

“Let me hear what?” Liam asks, appearing at your side with impeccable timing.

“Nothing!” you and Louis say in unison, exchanging a grin that feels like old times.

Liam sighs, shaking his head, but the fond smile tugging at his lips says he knows exactly what he’s in for.

...

The next week brings slow but steady progress with your recovery. Liam remains as attentive as ever, helping you with every small task—even ones you insist you can manage yourself.

“I can tie my own shoe, Liam,” you say, exasperated, as he kneels at your feet before rehearsal.

“Not with a sprain, you can’t,” he counters, his hands deftly working the laces. His tone is firm, but the softness in his eyes betrays him. “Just let me help, alright?”

You sigh but let him finish, catching Louis watching the interaction from across the room. His expression is unreadable, and he quickly looks away when you meet his gaze.

Later, you find him perched on the edge of the stage, staring out at the rows of empty seats.

“Hey,” you say, hobbling over with your crutches.

“Shouldn’t you be resting?” he quips, but there’s no real bite to it.

“Resting is boring,” you reply, sitting beside him. “What’s up?”

Louis shrugs, his gaze still distant. “Just thinking.”

“About?”

He hesitates before answering. “You and Liam. It’s weird, you know? Good weird, I guess. But still weird.”

You nudge him with your shoulder. “You’ll get used to it.”

“Yeah, maybe,” he says, glancing at you. “It’s just... we used to be this unstoppable duo, causing chaos wherever we went. And now you’re, like, all grown up or something.”

You laugh. “I’m not grown up, Lou. I’m just... balancing things better. You’ll always be my partner-in-crime.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

That seems to reassure him, and he gives you a small grin. “Alright. But if Liam ever steps out of line, you let me know. I’ll take him down.”

“Deal.”

As the days pass, Louis gradually warms to the new dynamic. He even starts teaming up with Liam to help you—though not without some playful grumbling. One evening, the three of you are in the greenroom when Louis smirks and says, “You know, Payne, for a guy who used to lecture me about not encouraging her, you’re doing a terrible job.”

“Someone has to keep you two in check,” Liam replies, handing you an ice pack.

Louis rolls his eyes. “You’re not keeping anything in check, mate. You’re enabling her.”

“And yet you’re still jealous,” you tease, throwing a pillow at him.

Louis catches it with a grin. “Damn right I am.”

...

The night is quiet on the tour bus, the hum of the engine lulling most of the boys to sleep. But your ankle aches just enough to keep you awake, and Liam, true to form, is awake with you.

You’re curled up on the small couch in the lounge area, his arm draped around your shoulders as you rest your head against his chest. The warmth of him, the steady rhythm of his breathing—it’s enough to make the dull throb of your ankle fade into the background.

“You know,” you murmur, breaking the silence, “you don’t have to do all this.”

Liam tilts his head down to look at you, his brows furrowing slightly. “All what?”

“This.” You gesture vaguely, your hand brushing against his chest. “Taking care of me. Hovering.”

He scoffs softly, his hand moving to gently rub your arm. “Hovering? I think you mean being a decent boyfriend.”

The word boyfriend hangs in the air between you, and your heart skips a beat. It’s the first time he’s said it out loud, and the way it rolls off his tongue so naturally makes your chest ache in the best way.

“Boyfriend, huh?” you tease, tilting your head to look up at him, a playful smile tugging at your lips.

Liam doesn’t miss a beat. “Yeah. You’ve got a problem with that?”

“Not at all,” you say, your voice softening. “It sounds... perfect.”

His eyes search yours, a flicker of something tender and vulnerable crossing his face. “You mean the world to me,” he says, his voice low but steady. “I’m not just going to sit back and watch you struggle. I care about you too much for that.”

For a moment, you’re lost in the warmth of his gaze, the sincerity in his words making your heart feel like it might burst. Before you can overthink it, you lean up and press your lips to his.

The kiss is slow and sweet, his hand sliding up to cup your cheek as he deepens it just enough to leave you breathless. When you finally pull back, his forehead rests against yours, a small, content smile playing on his lips.

“Girlfriend,” he murmurs, almost to himself, as if testing the word again.

You grin, your fingers brushing against the stubble on his jaw. “Boyfriend.”

Liam chuckles, pressing a kiss to your forehead before pulling you closer. “Guess we make a pretty good team, huh?”

“The best,” you reply, snuggling into his embrace.

In that moment, the ache in your ankle doesn’t matter. All that matters is the warmth of Liam’s arms around you and the quiet realisation that, with him, you’ve found something truly special.

...

A couple of weeks have passed since your ankle injury, and you’re finally feeling like yourself again. The limp is nearly gone, and you’re back to your usual antics with Louis, much to Liam’s exasperation—and quiet relief that you’re healing.

But while the band’s dynamic feels as solid as ever, things are shifting behind the scenes.

Management calls a meeting, pulling you and Liam aside before rehearsals. The tone is tense from the moment you walk into the room.

“We’ve noticed some... developments,” one of the execs starts, his words as sharp as his tailored suit. “Between the two of you.”

You glance at Liam, who straightens in his seat, his jaw tightening.

“And?” Liam asks, his voice calm but clipped.

“This relationship,” the exec continues, gesturing vaguely between you, “it’s a risk. The band’s success depends on a unified image. Relationships within the group can create distractions, tension—potentially divide the fanbase.”

Your stomach churns. “So, what? You want us to pretend we’re not together?”

“We’re asking you to consider what’s best for the band,” another manager chimes in, her tone saccharine but no less cutting. “Sometimes personal feelings have to take a back seat to professional responsibilities.”

Liam leans forward, his elbows resting on the table as his eyes narrow. “What’s best for the band is that we’re happy and working well together. And we are. So, I don’t see the problem.”

The room falls silent for a moment, the weight of their disapproval settling heavily in the air.

Paul clears his throat from the corner of the room. “I think you’re making this a bigger deal than it is.”

The managers turn to him, and he shrugs, leaning back in his chair. “They’ve always worked well together, and they still do. If anything, they’re even more in sync now. Trying to force them apart? That’s what’ll cause problems.”

You exhale a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, grateful for Paul’s quiet support. But the execs aren’t done.

“This isn’t just about the band,” the first one says, his voice dropping lower. “The media has already picked up on this. Fan speculation is through the roof, and while a majority seem supportive, there’s already some backlash. If this gets out of control, it could hurt the group’s image—and yours.”

“Then let us handle it,” Liam says firmly.

“And how do you plan to do that?”

“With honesty,” Liam replies, his voice steady. “We’re not hiding, but we’re not flaunting it either. If people have a problem with us being together, that’s on them. Not us.”

Your chest tightens at his words. His unwavering support in the face of their attempts to divide you feels like an anchor in a storm.

When the meeting ends, the tension still lingers, but Paul pulls you aside as the others leave.

“For what it’s worth,” he says quietly, “I think you two are good for each other. Don’t let them scare you into thinking otherwise.”

You nod, giving him a small, grateful smile. “Thanks, Paul.”

As you and Liam head back to rehearsals, his hand brushes against yours before he laces your fingers together, ignoring the questioning looks from the rest of the team.

“You okay?” he asks softly, glancing down at you.

You nod, squeezing his hand. “As long as we’re together, yeah.”

He smiles, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “Good. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

...

The meeting with management lingers in your mind as you and Liam rejoin the boys in the rehearsal room. They’re sprawled across the space, instruments and props scattered around. Louis is perched on a stool, absentmindedly tossing a stress ball to Harry, while Zayn and Niall argue over who has the better ping-pong skills.

The moment you and Liam step in, their heads turn, and Louis’s face lights up.

“Finally! I thought you two got kidnapped by Paul or something,” Louis exclaims, hopping off the stool. His eyes narrow, a teasing smirk spreading across his face. “Wait, did they pull you aside for a lecture about PDA? Should we all be taking notes?”

Niall snickers. “Wouldn’t put it past them.”

You and Liam exchange a glance, and before you can stop yourself, the words tumble out. “Actually, it was worse. They think we’re a threat to the band.”

The room goes silent for a beat before Harry lets out a low whistle. “Wow. Dramatic, even for them.”

“Did they seriously say that?” Zayn asks, his brows furrowing.

Liam nods, his jaw tight. “They’re worried it’ll mess with the band’s image or some nonsense.”

Louis steps closer, crossing his arms. “And what did you say to that?”

You grin, nudging Liam with your elbow. “Liam basically told them to shove it.”

“That’s my boy!” Louis exclaims, clapping Liam on the back with enough force to make him stumble. “Daddy Directioner standing up to the big bad bosses—love to see it.”

“They weren’t wrong about one thing, though,” you say, flashing Louis a mischievous smile. “I am a menace.”

Louis’s eyes light up, and he throws his arm around your shoulders. “And thank God for that. I’ve been lost without my partner-in-crime. Niall’s no fun, Zayn’s too cool for my antics, and Harry...” He pauses, glancing at Harry, who’s lazily spinning in a chair. “Well, he tries, but it’s not the same.”

“I’m hurt, Louis,” Harry says, feigning offense.

“Don’t be,” Louis replies cheerfully. “Now that Y/N’s back in action, the chaos quota is officially restored.”

Liam groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Oh, great. Just what we need.”

“Oh, come on, Payne,” you tease, stepping out of Louis’s hold to face him. “You know you missed us causing trouble.”

“I missed you,” Liam says, his voice low enough that it’s meant just for you. Then, louder, he adds, “The trouble? Not so much.”

“You love it,” you say with a grin.

The other boys exchange knowing looks, and Harry raises a brow. “So... does this mean you two are, like, official now?”

You hesitate for a second, glancing at Liam, who gives you a small nod before turning back to the group.

“Yeah,” Liam says simply. “We are.”

There’s a collective sigh of relief, followed by Niall’s cheerful, “Finally!”

Zayn smirks. “Thought we’d have to lock you two in a room to sort this out.”

Louis, on the other hand, looks slightly put out. “So, what? You’re ditching me for him now?”

You roll your eyes, grabbing his hand. “Louis, you’ll always be my chaos buddy. Liam’s just... the calm to my storm.”

Louis brightens immediately, turning to Liam with a triumphant grin. “Hear that? You’re the boring one.”

Liam groans, but there’s a smile tugging at his lips as the boys erupt into laughter.

...

The media whirlwind around your relationship with Liam grows louder as the tour continues. While most fans are supportive, there’s a vocal minority who aren’t as kind.

Some tabloids run stories about you being a distraction, while others speculate about the band’s dynamics. Social media is a mixed bag—one moment filled with adorable edits of you and Liam, the next flooded with comments from fans who had shipped you with Louis for years.

You scroll through your phone in the quiet of your hotel room, heart sinking as you read: “She’s ruining the band’s chemistry.” “What about Louis? Their friendship was perfect—this ruins it!” “Liam deserves someone who actually loves him, not someone who flirts with everyone.”

You toss your phone onto the bed, frustrated tears stinging your eyes.

Louis knocks on the open doorframe, holding up two bottles of soda. “Thought you might need a pick-me-up.”

You force a smile. “Thanks, Lou.”

He plops down on the bed next to you, handing you a bottle. “So... are we going to talk about the storm cloud hanging over your head, or are you going to keep pretending everything’s fine?”

You sigh, resting your head against his shoulder. “People think I’m ruining the band. They think I’m coming between you and Liam. Some of them even think I should’ve picked you instead.”

Louis snorts. “Picked me? That’s ridiculous. We’re practically siblings.”

“I know that. You know that. But some people don’t see it that way.”

“Well, they’re idiots,” he says bluntly. “Besides, you and Liam make sense. He’s boring enough to keep you grounded, and you’re wild enough to stop him from turning into a full-time dad.”

You laugh softly, but the ache in your chest doesn’t go away. “It’s just... hard, you know? I didn’t expect all of this.”

Louis wraps an arm around you. “You’ve got me, okay? And the boys. You’re not going through this alone.”

...

Later that night, Liam finds you in the rehearsal room, where you’ve been sitting alone, strumming a guitar to clear your head.

“Hey,” he says, stepping inside.

“Hey,” you reply, not looking up.

He hesitates before sitting down across from you. “You’ve been quiet today.”

“Just tired,” you say, your voice clipped.

Liam doesn’t buy it. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with Louis lately.”

You put the guitar down, frowning. “And what’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing,” he says quickly, then adds, “It’s just... every time something’s wrong, you go to him instead of me.”

“Because he doesn’t make me feel like this!” you snap, your frustration spilling over.

“Like what?”

“Like I’m doing something wrong!”

Liam’s eyes widen, taken aback. “I’ve never said that.”

“You don’t have to, Liam. You’re always tense, always worried about what people will say or think. I get enough of that from everyone else—I don’t need it from you, too.”

He looks away, his jaw tight. “I’m trying to protect you.”

“And I’m trying to breathe!”

The silence that follows is deafening, the weight of your words hanging heavily between you.

“I love you,” he says finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “But sometimes, it feels like you don’t trust me enough to let me help you.”

You swallow hard, your throat tight. “I love you too, Liam. But I can’t keep feeling like I’m walking on eggshells around you.”

Liam stands, running a hand through his hair. “Maybe we both need some space to figure this out.”

The words cut deeper than you expect, but you nod, not trusting yourself to speak.

As he walks away, you’re left staring at the guitar in your lap, wondering how everything got so complicated so quickly.

...

The knock on Louis’ hotel room door is frantic, and when he swings it open, his stomach drops at the sight of you.

You’re swaying slightly, eyes glassy, clutching a half-empty bottle of vodka from the minibar.

“Y/N?” he asks, stepping aside to let you in. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I needed you,” you slur, brushing past him into the room.

Louis closes the door and turns to face you, arms crossed. “Are you drunk?”

You spin to face him, a lopsided grin on your face. “Maybe a little.”

“A little?” He raises an eyebrow, snatching the bottle from your hand. “This is empty enough to say otherwise. What’s going on?”

You flop onto the edge of his bed, burying your face in your hands. “I screwed everything up, Lou. Liam hates me. He thinks I don’t trust him. But I do. I do! I just...” You trail off, tears spilling down your cheeks.

Louis sits beside you, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder. “Hey, slow down. Start from the beginning.”

You look up at him, your eyes shining with tears and something else—something that makes his stomach twist. “It’s just... you’re always there, you know? You’ve always been the one I can count on.”

“Yeah, well, that’s my job as your honorary brother,” he quips, trying to lighten the mood.

But you’re not laughing. Instead, you lean closer, your voice dropping to a whisper. “What if it’s more than that?”

Louis stiffens. “Y/N...”

“You get me, Lou,” you murmur, your hand brushing his knee. “You’re the one who’s always here when I need someone. Maybe it should’ve been you all along.”

He shakes his head, panic flashing across his face. “You don’t mean that. You’re drunk, and you’re upset. This isn’t you.”

“It feels real,” you insist, leaning in until your lips are just inches from his.

For a moment, Louis hesitates. But then he pulls back, gently gripping your shoulders to put distance between you. “No. Y/N, stop. You love Liam. You’re just hurting right now, and you’re looking for an escape. But this isn’t it.”

The words slice through your drunken haze like a knife, and the reality of what you almost did crashes over you. You cover your mouth with your hands, a sob escaping. “Oh my God, Louis, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he says softly, letting go of your shoulders. “But you need to pull yourself together, yeah? You can’t let one fight with Liam make you spiral like this. He loves you, even if he’s rubbish at showing it sometimes.”

You nod, tears streaming down your face. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’ll never have to find out,” he says with a small smile. “Now, come on. Let’s get you some water and put you to bed before you do something else you’ll regret.”

As he helps you up and guides you back to your room, the weight of your actions lingers heavily in the air. You know you’ll have to face Liam soon—and the thought terrifies you—but for now, you’re grateful Louis was there to stop you from crossing a line you couldn’t uncross.

...

Liam knocks softly on your hotel room door, his heart racing as he stands on the other side, unsure of how you'll react after everything that happened earlier. You haven’t been answering his texts or calls, and he’s felt the distance between you both growing since your argument. But now, he’s here, determined to make things right.

When you open the door, you’re standing there in one of his old t-shirts, hair messy, looking so effortlessly beautiful, and yet, he can see the weariness in your eyes. The tension between you both is palpable. You’ve both been avoiding talking about what happened, but now, it’s time to face it.

“Can we talk?” Liam’s voice is softer than usual, vulnerable even. He’s not used to feeling like this, unsure of what to say, how to fix what’s broken. But he needs to. He’s not ready to lose you.

You don’t say anything at first, just step aside to let him in, and he follows you into the room. The door clicks shut behind him, and the silence hangs heavy in the air. You both sit on the edge of the bed, not touching, but the distance between you feels even more immense than it should.

“I shouldn’t have gotten so angry,” Liam starts, his voice low and careful. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like you couldn’t turn to me or like I was holding you back. It’s just... I care about you so much, Y/N. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”

You look at him, your heart aching. You’ve been avoiding talking to him, but hearing him say that, it hits you right in the chest. The anger from earlier starts to fade, replaced with a tenderness you’ve been longing for.

“I didn’t mean to push you away,” you finally speak, your voice shaky but genuine. “I was just confused. I thought I was losing you too, in a way. I never meant for all of this to happen, for us to drift apart.”

Liam takes a step closer to you, his hand reaching out to gently touch yours. The warmth of his touch is enough to send a jolt through you, a reminder of how much you missed him, of how much you needed him. The moment feels like the world has stopped, leaving just the two of you in this tiny hotel room.

“You haven’t lost me,” he whispers, his forehead resting against yours for a moment, the soft contact making you close your eyes. “I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

His hand slides from yours to gently cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin as if he’s memorizing the feel of you. You can see the sincerity in his eyes, the vulnerability that he rarely shows, and it makes your heart swell.

Before you can say anything else, Liam kisses you, slow at first, as if he’s savoring every moment. His lips are gentle, but there’s something deeper beneath the surface, a longing that has been building between you both for far too long. As the kiss deepens, the tension between you both intensifies, and you can feel how much he wants this, wants you, just as much as you’ve wanted him.

But this time, it’s different. Liam isn’t the one holding back. He takes control.

His hand slides to the back of your neck, pulling you closer with a gentle force. He deepens the kiss, his tongue brushing against yours, and you can feel the change in him. He’s no longer the one trying to keep things light and playful. This time, he’s taking charge, and you can’t help but let him.

You gasp into his mouth as his other hand moves to your waist, pushing you back onto the bed with an ease that takes you by surprise. Your hands tremble as they reach for his shirt, tugging it up slightly, wanting to feel more of him. But Liam pulls away just for a moment, his breath heavy, eyes searching yours.

“Are you sure?” he asks, his voice rough with desire. “Because once we start, I’m not stopping.”

Your heart races, and for the first time, you don’t feel like you need to be the one in control. You want him, need him, and the words slip out before you can stop them. “Yes. I want this. I want you.”

Liam’s eyes darken, and that’s all the confirmation he needs. He kisses you again, more urgently this time, as if he’s finally letting go of all the restraint he’s been holding onto. His lips are everywhere—your neck, your jaw, your lips again—and you can feel his hands roaming, exploring, making you burn with need.

He pushes you further back onto the bed, his body pressing against yours in a way that makes everything else feel distant, unimportant. All that matters is the heat building between you both, the way he’s taking control, and the way you’re letting go, giving yourself to him completely.

“You’re mine now,” Liam mutters between kisses, his voice husky and possessive, sending shivers through your body.

You can feel the weight of his words as if they were a promise, a claim on you that sends a thrill of warmth rushing through your veins. The way his body presses closer, every inch of him surrounding you, feels like a declaration. There’s no room for doubt, no space for hesitation—just the certainty that this is where you both belong.

Liam’s hands move with purpose now, as if he’s memorizing every curve of your body, and the raw hunger in his touch makes your pulse race. His lips leave a trail of fire along your jawline and down your neck, his teeth grazing over the sensitive skin there, making you gasp in response. He pulls away for just a moment, his lips hovering over yours, both of you panting, hearts beating erratically.

“You drive me crazy,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough, each word dripping with desire. “I can’t stop thinking about you. Can’t stop wanting you.”

You don’t respond with words; you don’t need to. Instead, you pull him back to you, crashing your lips together again with an urgency that matches his own. The kiss is hungry now, wild, as if both of you are desperate to make up for lost time.

Your hands are trembling as they travel down his chest, feeling the hard muscles of his torso beneath your fingertips. You want more. You need more. But it’s not just about physicality—it’s about everything that’s been building up between you both, the emotions that have simmered under the surface for so long, and now they’re exploding in this perfect, heated moment.

Liam groans into the kiss as your hands start to work at the button of his jeans, and the sound makes you ache for him even more. His hands are busy too, tugging at your clothes with a sense of urgency, the fabric slipping off your body in a way that feels almost too slow, like you both want to savor this but can’t hold back any longer.

When you’re both finally bare, just skin against skin, Liam pulls back slightly, his breath coming in shallow gasps. His eyes are dark, hungry with a mix of love and need, and the intensity in his gaze makes your heart skip a beat.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” he asks again, his voice soft but laced with that possessive edge. The question lingers in the air, hanging between you both, but there’s no hesitation this time. You know.

“More than anything,” you reply, your voice trembling slightly as you reach up to pull him closer, your lips finding his again in a kiss that’s both slow and desperate.

Liam moves over you then, his body covering yours in the most intimate way, the heat of him melting away any last bit of doubt. As he enters you, he groans, the sound deep and guttural, and you can’t help but mirror the sound, feeling all of him, filling you in ways you never thought possible.

He sets a slow, steady pace, his eyes never leaving yours, searching for any sign that you might want to slow down. But you don’t. You want all of him, right here, right now.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, his hands tracing over your skin, worshipping you in a way that makes you feel like you’re the only person in the world. The vulnerability in his voice, the way he’s giving himself to you completely, makes your chest tighten. This is more than just physical. This is everything.

His pace increases, becoming more urgent as the pleasure builds between you both. The bed creaks under the intensity of your movements, and the air is thick with the sounds of your breathing, the soft moans slipping from your lips, and the desperate rhythm of your bodies coming together.

Liam takes control in every sense, guiding you through this with a kind of dominance that leaves you breathless. You don’t even think about the world outside the two of you. There’s no past, no future—just the present, just the heat between you both. The way he touches you, the way he makes you feel cherished and wanted, is enough to make you forget everything except for him.

As the moment builds, you feel yourself nearing the edge, your body tensing with the anticipation of release. Liam can feel it too, his breath hitching as he watches you with such intensity, as if he’s savoring every second of this.

“You’re mine,” he growls again, the words sending a jolt through you, and it’s enough to push you over the edge. You cry out his name, your body shaking with the intensity of your orgasm, and Liam follows right behind you, his body tensing as he lets go, collapsing against you in a tangled heap of sweat and tangled sheets.

For a long moment, neither of you speaks. You’re both too caught up in the aftermath of what just happened, your breathing slowing as you try to catch your breath. Liam rests his forehead against yours, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin, and you can feel the weight of everything between you both—no longer just physical, but emotional, real, and undeniable.

“I love you,” he whispers softly, his voice rough but filled with so much sincerity.

And you know, in that moment, that nothing will ever be the same again. You both have crossed a threshold, and there’s no going back. Not that either of you would want to.

“I love you too,” you whisper back, your heart full.

...

The next morning, everything feels different. There’s an undeniable energy between you and Liam that wasn’t there before, a quiet understanding and a deeper connection. You walk into the hotel lobby, and his hand slides into yours, fingers entwining effortlessly.

He smiles at you, and you can feel the warmth in his touch, his presence grounding you in the best possible way. There’s no need for words, but you feel a sense of comfort you’ve never had before. You can tell by the way he looks at you that everything has shifted. You're not just a flirty team anymore; you're solid, real, and more than ready to face whatever comes next.

“Morning, love,” Liam says, his voice soft and warm, pulling you in for a quick kiss, his lips brushing yours as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

You smile, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “Morning, Payne. Keeping it sweet and simple, huh?”

He chuckles, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “For now.”

The flirty energy between the two of you feels almost electric, and the moment you sit down for breakfast, Liam can’t resist teasing you. His hand slides to the back of your chair, gently rubbing your shoulders as he leans in and whispers, “If you keep making those eyes at me, we might just need to sneak away for a bit.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “We’re in public, Liam. We have to at least try to pretend to be professional.”

The boys are watching you both with varying levels of amusement, clearly enjoying the lightheartedness that’s returned to the band dynamic. Louis, ever the instigator, can’t resist chiming in, his voice carrying across the table. “So, you two lovebirds gonna start writing songs together now or what?”

You and Liam exchange a glance, his hand finding yours under the table, his thumb rubbing over your knuckles. “Maybe,” you tease, winking at him. “We could do a duet. Get the whole world to know how perfect we are.”

Liam laughs, but there's a softness in his eyes that shows just how comfortable you both are with this new phase of your relationship. He leans over and pecks your cheek, a smile tugging at his lips. "If the world doesn't know already, they will soon enough."

Later that day, as rehearsals begin, you can’t help but fall back into your usual mischief with Louis. He nudges you, and you both exchange a look that screams “it’s time for a prank.”

You and Louis have always been partners in crime, and even with the new dynamic in your relationship with Liam, you can't resist a bit of chaos.

“Alright, we need to make this one count,” Louis whispers, his eyes glinting with excitement. “I’ve got the perfect idea. Let’s target Harry.”

You grin, already getting on board with the plan. “Let’s do it.”

The next few minutes are spent sneaking around, finding just the right moment to pull off the prank. As Harry sits back to relax in his chair, you and Louis, working in perfect tandem, manage to cover him with whipped cream, and before he can even react, the two of you burst into laughter.

"Louis! You little—" Harry tries to yell, but he’s laughing too, wiping the cream off his face.

You high-five Louis as the rest of the band chuckles. Liam, however, can’t help but smile at the sight of you in your element. Still, there’s a hint of something deeper in his eyes—a protective streak he can't quite shake. He’s proud of you, of course, but that doesn't mean he’s immune to feeling a little annoyed by the way you and Louis still share this kind of chaotic bond.

As the laughter dies down, Liam walks over to you, his expression a mix of amusement and something else. “You two really don’t know when to stop, do you?”

You flash him a teasing grin. “You wouldn’t want us to, would you?”

He leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead before letting out a quiet sigh. “I’m just happy to see you happy. But I can’t promise I won’t try to stop you next time.”

You raise an eyebrow, giving him a sly smile. “Is that a promise or a threat?”

“Both,” he says with a playful grin.

But, despite the light teasing, there’s something different about the way he says it. You notice the subtle possessiveness—though, as always, it’s laced with affection and care.

That night, after the concert, you and Liam find a quiet moment backstage. The band has gone off to do interviews and take care of the usual post-show stuff, leaving you and Liam alone for a few minutes.

Liam takes your hand as the two of you walk through the quiet halls of the venue, the chaos of the show still echoing in the background. He pulls you closer, his thumb brushing against your skin as he looks down at you, his gaze soft and tender.

“Hey, I’ve been thinking,” Liam starts, his voice low and sincere. “Maybe we should finally just tell the world, you know?”

You stop walking, turning to face him, surprised. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he says, his eyes full of sincerity, “let’s make it official. Tell everyone what we already know.”

You smile, heart fluttering at the thought. You’re not scared anymore. You don’t need to hide.

“Are you sure? You know how management will feel about it.”

He shrugs, a hint of defiance in his eyes. “Screw management. We’re not doing this for anyone else. We’re doing it for us.”

You nod, your heart swelling with affection for him. “Yeah, you’re right. Let’s do it.”

And just like that, in the middle of the madness and the pressure from management, you make the decision. You’ve always done things your way, and now, together, you’re ready to take on whatever comes next.

When you step out onto the stage, hand-in-hand, the crowd goes wild. They already know, but you’ve never felt more certain. As the lights shine down on you, you lean into Liam, whispering, “Screw what anyone else thinks. This is us.”

Liam looks down at you, a soft smile on his lips, before kissing you right there in front of everyone. The crowd erupts into applause, but all that matters is him. The world can watch. You’re not hiding anymore.

This is just the beginning.

...

Part 3

[lxmelle]

If the conditions for happiness and/or satisfaction at the core of each of them are summed up through:

“(I’m jealous, but) I’m happy if you’re happy.” Geto Suguru

“I’m happy if you’re there.” Gojo Satoru

Does it come as a surprise that they’re smiling...?

They needed one another to be happy 🥹

I was reading several options from a few international readers of the series on X and it’s nice that they seem to echo that too - that without the other, they are less happy.

If one is unhappy, the other would be too. They complimented each other in so many ways, including how they loved each other and wanted to be loved**

**i don’t necessarily mean romantic love

Just some blabbering on my thoughts/analysis/views about their love under the cut. Perhaps it’s headcanon more than anything. Read if you wish:

Geto was very giving and it “gave him as much as he gave” when he was able to love someone. He could love anyone, but to be able to love someone like Gojo felt like a privilege. Gojo wanted his love as much as he wanted to give love. It felt balanced and reciprocal.

Gojo enjoyed being indulged; and as someone who could be good at anything he put his mind to - allowing someone to love him was a privilege he gave - he felt loved to be loved in this way. Being loved by Geto who had love for everyone, so exclusively, made him feel even more special.

I also think if they were allowed to progress with a mature relationship, they’d grow together and the way they could love & receive love would begin to overlap & equalise. Especially as they tended to see themselves on the same side / level, they would be more likely to understand one another and receive the love given.

Geto saw the goodness in Gojo that few took the time to see. This purity of love would strike a chord in anyone and resonated in Gojo’s soul - so much so that he “knew in his soul” that Kenjaku in Geto was not his Geto Suguru. Geto had recognised that something changed in Gojo when he awakened, and still, Geto wanted to protect Gojo’s humanity - this was his way of loving him in the twisted world - by leaving. Not pulling him along with him. Gojo would have gone.

Gojo loved by clinging onto his love. “I’ll protect you.”

Geto loved by letting go of his love and going instead. “I’ll save you.”

Gojo saw the self blame and sacrifice in Geto that few took the time to see. He missed the sadness in his eyes and when Geto left, wanted to save him and prevent the jujutsu world from continuing as it was that left people like them alone. This was all he could do after the damage was done, and in the end to kill him was also to give him love.

I’m glad they met again. I hope they can start again at the end.

To add onto what this post opened with…...

The loneliness of absolute strength; one who will teach you about love...

For Sukuna who didn’t know real love: “Love is worthless; I don’t need anyone (/ love) to satisfy me.” It was a direct contrast to the scene in 236.

For Gojo: “If you (love) were there […] I probably would’ve been satisfied.” (Love = Geto)

In jjk 0 we saw this theme:

For Gojo & Geto: “Love is the most twisted curse... curse (love) me a little at the end.”

Geto and Gojo were plagued with loneliness.

The antidote was love.

Love, was in the form of each other.

Because: they taught each other about love.

[goquokka00]

The Roomie Effect (Pt 2)

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Summary: You're roommates with your friend Jisung and his boyfriend, Minho. The downsides? You're attracted to both of them, and they're a fairly...active couple. Little do you know; they're also attracted to you. And they want you to be in their relationship with them.

Pairings: Jisung X Reader (F!) X Minho

Genre: Fluff, humor, non-idol au but Stray Kids still knows each other, smut (MDNI)

Warnings: Mentions of sex and alcohol, "vaping" (reader uses diffuser sticks like pure and cloudy, so no nicotine), reader gets drunk, anal sex (male x male), Sub! Jisung, Dom! Minho, Jisung jerks himself off, cumming inside

Word Count: 6.6K

"You're actually dumb, you know that?" You told Jisung, looking at the answers he had come up with for your Music Theory homework. It had been a few days since they had...y'know...and everything seemed pretty normal.

It was a little awkward the next day afterward, as Jisung couldn't look at you without blushing. But after reassuring both of them that you didn't hear a thing (you definitely did but you didn't want them to worry), everything seemed to go right back to how it was. Which was good, because you'd hate for things to change between the three of you.

"How?! That's right, that chord progression is right!" Jisung countered, pointing to the sheet of paper.

"No, it's not!"

"Yes, it is!"

"A three chord can't go to a seven diminished, dumbass!"

"Yes, it can! See, look at the chart that YOU made!"

"Bitch, that's going to a four or two chord!"

"Oh, well would you look at that." Jisung said, taking the chart and getting a closer look. "It is, isn't it?"

"I told you, you're dumb."

"Hey! You were the one asking for my help!"

"Hey, quiet down in there or I'm getting the tissues!" Minho yelled, looking into the kitchen from the living room. The both of you flinched at the threat, already knowing that he would 100% do that if given the opportunity.

"Sorry, Min." Jisung apologized. Minho just let out a sigh, rubbing his temples.

"It's fine, don't worry about it. Just...keep the volume down." Minho said, turning back to his work.

You didn't blame him for wanting it to be quiet. Unlike you and Jisung, who had to make music, Minho had to watch people dancing to it.

Minho was a Dance Choreographer Major, wanting to go into making dances for idols and professional dancers. And one of the things he had to do was evaluate different dances that they were assigned to watch. Talk about what the teams do well, what could be improved, and things that the students would take and use for their own choreographies.

And that's what he was doing right now.

"You got it. We'll be as quiet as mice." Jisung told him, giving his boyfriend a thumbs up.

"See, you say that, but my bet is that you're gonna start yelling again."

"Am not!"

"Then what are you doing right now?"

"Oh, wow, real funny, wise guy."

"Oh, this is funny? We're gonna see how funny this is in about 3 seconds-"

"Guys!" You yelled, finally having about enough. Both boys blushed, looking over at you. "If you're gonna fuck, do it already--"

"We aren't gonna fuck!" They both yelled at the same time, faces now red. All you could do was laugh, twirling your pencil in your fingers.

"Then both of you quiet down, please. Minho, we'll stay quiet. Jisung, let's just look at the next problem right here." You said, keeping your eyes on your homework.

"Oh, yeah. Sure." Jisung said, going to look at the problem as well. As the two of you went back to work, Minho watched both of you closely, smiling at the sight of the two of you working together. It was cute, the way that you'd point something out and Jisung would nod, only to explain it to you in a way that you'd understand.

He wanted to see it all the time.

||

"Hey, have you seen Ji's--What are you doing?!"

You almost fell out of your chair in shock as Minho burst into your room, catching you with one of your diffusers in your mouth. You took it out, coughing the vapers as Minho went and took the diffuser from you.

"These are bad for your health, you know that?!" Minho yelled, looking like an angry mom. Well, he was acting like it, too. But you just gave him a pout, crossing your arms as he held the diffuser out in front of you.

"Relax, it's not what you think it is." You said, grabbing the box to the stick and holding it out for Minho to look at it. "It's a diffuser pen, no nicotine. All they have is vitamins. That one specifically has B12 and C."

"You sure?" Minho asked, looking to you. You just nodded, getting up and going over to him, taking the diffuser out of his hands.

"Yeah. I only use them when I'm studying or can't sleep. I have a melatonin one for the sleep problem, but I also use it to keep my mental shit in check." You explained, breathing in a puff, letting it out along with the vapers. Then, you held it out to Minho, smiling. "I haven't used this one for a few days, and I haven't used the melatonin one in forever. So if you don't believe me, go ahead and try it."

Minho gave you an unsure look but took the diffuser. He gave it a quick glance, looking back at you before putting it in his mouth and did what you had a few seconds before. Except unlike how you breathed in and out without a hitch, Minho coughed the vapers out.

"What the hell?! Why was that so cold?!" Minho asked, looking to you as you laughed a bit.

"It's supposed to be refreshing. Honestly, it feels really nice after talking or singing all day." You said, gesturing for him to try again. "Don't worry, I had a similar reaction to it my first time. You get used to it."

"And you're sure I won't get addicted or high or anything?" Minho asked. You just laughed, shaking your head.

"Nope. I don't do that stuff, and if I did, I wouldn't be pressuring you to do it." You told him. Minho nodded, breathing in again. This time, he held it in his lungs for a second, before breathing out the vapers. "See? Not so bad, is it?"

"Actually, it's not." Minho told you, handing the diffuser stick back. "They're actually pretty nice."

"Mhm. They're probably the only things keeping me sane in college besides alcohol, you, and Jisung." You admitted, laughing a bit. Your laugh was music to Minho's ears.

"We keep you sane?"

"Yeah, I mean, you guys might be a bit much sometimes, but honestly, I think I see you guys as some of my closest friends."

"Huh." Minho nodded, though, your words stung a bit. Just friends? Is that really all you saw them as?

It wasn't.

You wouldn't admit it, but it hurt you to say that as much as it hurt Minho to hear it. You really liked both of them, after all. You wanted nothing more than to be with either of them. Hell, maybe even both. But...

You couldn't. They were already together, and they were fucking adorable at that. You couldn't ruin their relationship, no shot. That was a shit thing to do, both as a friend and as a roommate. But there was no use dwelling on it right now.

"So uh, you asked if I've seen something?" You asked, just wanting to move on and forget about that.

"Oh, right. I was wondering if Ji's lyric book was in here."

"Mm... I don't think it is. There wouldn't really be any reason for it to be."

"Huh. Well, he told me that you two were working on lyric writing from one of your classes, and that he had used his lyric book for your drafts."

"Well, knowing Jisung, he probably misplaced it somewhere in Misul." Misul was the Fine Arts building on campus, and it was the building that you and Jisung spent the most time in.

"Yeah, that sounds like him." Minho let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair before smiling to you. "Well, just keep your eyes out, okay?"

"Will do." You said, giving a kind smile to Minho. With that, Minho left you to work on your studies, which you did at your own pace.

Lofi blasted through your earbuds as you worked on chord progressions and writing down intervals for tuning forks. By the time that you had decided to take a break, you looked up to see the time.

2:41 am.

Shit.

You couldn't help but let out a sigh, knowing that you weren't close to done with everything. And since it was a weekend, that meant it was all-nighter time. Again. But not before taking a break for yourself. After all, your brain could only handle so much.

And so, you got up from your chair and stretched, letting out a sigh and looking around your room for no reason. It was something you always did, probably just to take in your surroundings. Who knew? You certainly didn't.

But as you turned back to your desk, you couldn't help but notice a foreign notebook on your shelf. Black cover, silver spiral binds...that wasn't your notebook. You knew your notebooks, as you were really picky about what notebooks you used. It was normally Campus notebooks, or notebooks with covers you found cute. You never had such plain spiral bound notebooks. So it definitely wasn't yours. But it didn't take you long to realize who's it was.

That was Jisung's lyric book.

You stopped your stretch session, grabbing the notebook and looking at the cover. There was no doubt about it, that was his. The cover was slightly beaten up, which would make sense from how religiously Jisung used it. You flipped it over, taking note of the back being almost the exact same way.

And then, your curiosity starting whirling.

You couldn't help but wonder what lyrics Jisung had written. What thoughts were in his words. What stories he was trying to tell. You wanted to peek inside and read some of what he had written, so much so that you didn't realize your hand slowly lifting the front. cover.

That's when you stopped yourself for a second. This was wrong. A lyric book was practically the equivalent of a diary or journal. It was private thoughts. Hell, most of these lyrics probably wouldn't even be turned into songs. That's how it usually worked. Taking a peek into the book was a terrible idea.

But...it was late. Both Jisung and Minho were asleep, and there was no way that they'd know. The only one who would know that you peeked was you, so long as you kept your trap shut. Which you could definitely do.

And so, you opened the front cover.

For the most part, the songs inside showed a lot of different emotions. Some were directed towards his own mental state, others were directed toward confidence or hate from others. Something you took note of was how he had dated everything up in the top corner. Probably so he could look back at it way later and visit what he had written.

And then, you got to more recent dates. The previous encounters were still somewhat evident, but you also started to take notice of a new genre. You assumed romance, something you never thought you'd see Jisung exploiting in.

But here you were.

One of the first you came across was labelled "143". As you read through, you took note of the confusion evident inside of the song. It was still about love, but you interpreted it as more like someone falling in love, but not really understanding why. But there were definitely some lines that caught your attention.

I'm falling for your fatal attraction...

There are no words that describe the perfection...

Why do I keep getting attracted?

I'm drawn to you like a magnet...

I cannot explain this reaction, 1-4-3

I love you...

You couldn't help but raise a brow at the lyrics. What did he mean by that? This could potentially be reflecting on how he felt back when he first met Minho, and not really understanding why he was falling for him, but that didn't make sense.

Jisung was one to write what he was feeling in the moment, not reflecting on the past. That's why he literally carried this lyric book around with him all the time. And you knew for a fact that his feelings for Minho were irrefutable. So him questioning what he was feeling? That was recent.

But who was it for?

That's when you flipped to another song, one he decided to title "Want so BAD". At first, while reading the lyrics, you were almost certain that this was a love song for Minho. Knowing your friend, it wasn't impossible. But then, like before, a few lyrics caught your attention.

I think it's so sweet my baby...

So many thoughts keep me awake every night of you...

I know it's pain, but I really want it so bad...

Up and down, it's a breathtaking roller coaster ride...

Come closer, just the three of us...

Together, we make one whole romantic comedy movie...

I'll hold you tight and say I've always been waiting for this moment...

If I hold it any longer, I might just blow up...

For us, it's you...

That...definitely caught your attention.

For one, Jisung never referred to Minho as "my baby". Hell, you've never heard him refer to anyone as that. So that meant that this was someone new. Someone that you assumed him and Minho both liked, due to the use of mentions of "us" and "three" being used.

Slowly, pieces were being put together. Minho and Jisung found someone they both liked, and you assumed that they were planning on going Polyamorous with. But that left you with the single question of who it could be.

Minho had a lot of friends; you were well aware of that. But he only shared 7 friends with Jisung. You happened to know these people, too.

Chan and Changbin were Jisung's closest friends, as they were both going into the same thing as Jisung: Music Production. You had also met them when you were a freshman, and they were both really nice. But you knew Jisung never saw them as lovers. Neither did Minho.

Hyunjin and Felix were the two who had actually introduced Minho and Jisung, and Jisung had introduced you to them afterward. Hyunjin was going into Dance Performance, and Felix was going into Dance Choreography like Minho. And while they were both beautiful people, you knew that Jisung and Minho didn't see them as love interests either.

And Seungmin and Jeongin, who were going into Music Performance like you, were way too young in their eyes. They saw those two like little brothers. Then again, so did you. And that meant that...

No. No no, there was absolutely no way.

He wasn't...those lyrics...

Fuck.

||

After piecing together that the lyrics that Jisung had written were about you, you immediately took the lyric book out to the kitchen counter and put it underneath some other textbooks, took that melatonin diffuser, went to bed, woke up, and texted Hyunjin and Felix, asking if they'd be willing to go to the bar with you.

You needed a drink. Badly.

When they had texted you back that they'd be willing, you eagerly waited for the evening to roll around. Thankfully, both Jisung and Minho were out all day, going to spend time with each other out in Seoul. Which was good. Really good, mainly because you knew you'd probably combust on the spot if you looked at Jisung right now.

Once 7:00 pm rolled around, you got dressed in clothes that didn't make you look like you rolled out of bed and headed out the door.

Cut to now, with you sitting in between a very concerned Hyunjin and a very tipsy Felix, downing your...well, you don't really know how many shots you've had. You just know you've had a lot.

"Okay, don't you think you've had enough?" Hyunjin asked, watching as you and Felix cackled about some random sentence he had spouted. It was safe to say that you were both feeling the alcohol.

"No, I gotta drink more...'m fine!" Felix said, leaning against you. You just smiled at Hyunjin, patting his thigh.

"We're soooo good, Hyunnie...we're perfect!" You added. Hyunjin only sighed, looking to the bartender and nodding his head, silently asking for the bill.

"I think we need to get you home." Hyunjin told you.

"But I don' wanna! I...I can't go, not when they're there...they're gonna be all lovey dovey an' making me wish I was both of them..."

"Y/n, what--"

"'N they both like me...a-an' I like them, an' I shouldn' know that, but I do...!"

"Come on, let's go."

"NO!"

"Y/n..."

"No! No, don' wanna!"

"Don't make me call Jisung, because I will."

That got your drunk self really quiet. You just let out a huff, crossing your arms. Then, Hyunjin looked to Felix, who had just finished paying for the bill.

"I'm gonna call a taxi. You got it from here?" Hyunjin asked. Felix gave him a salute, going over to you and carefully putting your arm over his shoulder. With that, he gently lifted you off of your seat and guided you to the exit of the bar. Hyunjin was quick to follow, flagging down a taxi while Felix stood with you.

Soon enough, all of you were inside and driving to your apartment.

"I don' wanna go..." You whined, Hyunjin just rolling his eyes at you.

"Why?"

"Cause...I like 'em...an' I think they like me? But...idonknow..."

"Well of course they like you. They're your friends."

"Nononononononono, I think they like-like me...an' I really like 'em..."

"Okay, so?"

"So...idonknow what ta do about that...what would you do?"

"I'd probably see how it plays out? Or confess. If it seems like they like you like that, then you might as well let them know. Get it off your chest."

"...nah." You just crossed your arms, leaning against the now passed out Felix. Just as you did so, the driver had pulled up to your apartment complex, parking close to your building. Hyunjin got out, helping you get out as well and threw your arm over his shoulders, going to the driver's window.

"Just wait here, I'll be right back." Hyunjin instructed, the driver nodding. With that, you and Hyunjin started making your way up the stairs and towards your home. You didn't really try to fight him, since the alcohol in your system made you feel like you were moving in fast forward and slow motion at the same time.

But your drunk brain was absolutely dreading going and seeing Minho and Jisung again.

||

While you had been out with Hyunjin and Felix to drink your concerns away, Minho and Jisung returned to the house from their date day. Overall, it was a great day for the both of them. They went shopping, saw a movie, ran some errands, and went out to eat for dinner.

And when they returned to the house around 8:00 pm, they were a bit surprised to notice that you were missing. Then again, there were times that you went out for late errands or going to the convenience store for snacks or energy drinks. So they weren't really worried.

Instead, they both settled down on the couch, Jisung laying on Minho's chest, and started watching an anime series that you had actually recommended them. They had managed to get through the first few episodes, getting into the setting fairly quickly. But they were soon interrupted by a knock on the door.

"You weren't expecting anyone, were you?" Jisung asked, looking up at Minho as he sat them both up.

"No, not today." Minho said, pressing a kiss to Jisung's forehead. "I'll be right back, stay comfortable. Okay?"

"Okay." Jisung said with a smile, watching his lover get up and go to the door. And when Minho opened it, his eyes widened at the sight of you slung over Hyunjin's shoulder, barely able to hold yourself up.

"Delivery." Hyunjin said, gesturing over to you. Minho just raised a brow as he took you from him, confused.

"Do I wanna know?"

"She's drunk."

"No shit, she's drunk. Why?"

"She wanted to ignore her feelings. That's why."

"How much?"

"Lots of shots, three mixers. She's probably not gonna remember jack squat tomorrow."

"For the love of...Jisung!" Minho called out, turning to his boyfriend on the couch. Jisung immediately sprung up, looking over towards the door to see you, Minho, and Hyunjin. So it didn't take him long to go over to you all with concerned eyes.

"What happened to her?" He asked, Minho handing you to him.

"She went drinking, apparently."

"Without me?!"

"Dude." Hyunjin commented, raising a brow at Jisung.

"What? She usually doesn't go to bars without me." Jisung pouted, kicking at the floor.

"We can figure that out later, just--take her to her room, get her water, get her changed, and get her in bed." Minho instructed. Jisung nodded, knowing that Minho had a point. And so, he started walking you to your room and sat you down on your bed.

"There we go, nice and easy." Jisung said, steadying you before slowly backing away, giving you a kind smile. "Alright, I'll be right back, okay? I'm just gonna go and get you some water--"

"N-No..." You mumbled, reaching out for him. You managed to grab his wrist, keeping him from going any further than your arm length.

"Y/n...you're drunk. You need to sober up a bit, okay? I'm just going to the kitchen to get a glass of water, okay? I'll literally be gone for like, 30 seconds--"

"No! Y'gotta stay! Do-Don' leave, please..."

"Hey, I promise I'll be right back." Jisung told you, giving you a warmer smile than his usual kind one. He carefully peeled your hand off of his wrist, setting it down by your side. "If you let me go, I'll stay with you for the entire night. Deal?"

"M'kay." But it didn't stop your drunk self from pouting. It made Jisung's heart throb, making him feel like he was gonna explode from how you were acting like a child. In a cute way, mind you. But he had a mission to complete.

And so, after knowing that you'd stay put (partly because he didn't think you could even walk by yourself), he quickly went out to the kitchen, grabbing a cup and filling it with some water before going back to your room.

Only to find you shirtless while trying to take your shorts off.

"Oh my god!" Jisung immediately flushed red, covering his eyes at the sight of your nearly naked body, turning around to give you some sort of privacy. "What are you doing?!"

"Gettin'...gettin' comfy womfy....hehe.." You giggled, Jisung just letting out a sigh before setting the cup down and straight to your closet.

He dug through it, finding a pretty big sweatshirt. All of your sweatshirts were oversized, but some didn't get to be quite long enough to hide undergarments. This one would, though.

"Okay, stop stop stop. Let me help you, please." Jisung said, getting your hands away from your shorts you had decided to wear. You stopped, staring at him with wide eyes as he quickly slipped the sweatshirt over your head, trying to keep his eyes off of your beautiful chest and gorgeous curves.

That wasn't his focus right now.

Once the sweatshirt was on, Jisung took hold of the shorts and carefully took them off, ignoring that your eyes were on him. And once that was done, he took the dirty clothes and threw them into the hamper, then grabbing the water and giving it to you. Though, he couldn't help that your eyes were still on him, having not left him once.

"Here, drink that." Jisung told you, watching as you sipped on the water. You let out a sigh, setting the cup down and looking to him again. It was hard to tell what you were thinking. To Jisung, it was already hard to tell, even more so when you had been drinking. "What?"

"You're...sooo pretty..." You told him. Your voice was so soft, which made Jisung's heart throb again. He gulped, not registering your hand that came close to his face, gently feeling his lips.

They were so soft. So plush. You always had a gut feeling that his lips would be that way, due to how pouty they always looked. But in your drunken state, they felt way better than you were expecting.

"You're really pretty. Pretty baby boy." You muttered, leaning forward a bit to look at him closer. Jisung just blushed more, leaning back a bit as drunk you leaned in closely, admiring his face. But he was caught on your words. Did you really think that, or were you just more gone than he thought?

"Um...t-thanks...?" Jisung trailed, almost in a daze. Why was his head spinning? Why was his heart going a thousand miles an hour? Why was his pants getting tighter?

You were drunk. You were drunk, you probably didn't mean half of the shit you were saying, and you certainly weren't meaning everything that you were doing. He wished you weren't, though, because that would mean he could act on his feelings. But that would be wrong if he did that while you were intoxicated. It wasn't right.

Until you got closer. Really close. So close, that if someone were to push either of you, you'd for sure end up kissing. You didn't seem to notice, which made sense. But Jisung sure as hell did. And it didn't help when you put both hands on his thigh, leaning on it to get to be that close.

"W-What are you doing?" Jisung asked, sounding hesitant. It was a good question, that was for damn sure. But you answered it. Just...not with words.

You placed your lips on his, instead.

Jisung's eyes widened, surprised by your actions. You didn't. Did you? He could feel the weight of your upper body, so it definitely wasn't a dream. So then, you were. You were kissing him. Shit. Fuck. What? But-how is he supposed to respond to that? You're drunk, but he wants to kiss back. But he can't because he'd feel like he'd be taking advantage of you. But your lips feel so good against his. They were soft, and they fit perfectly. Lord help him.

Thankfully, you pulled away, the cutest pout ever on your face. It made Jisung's heart wrench. God, what were you doing to him?

"D'ya not wanna kiss?" You asked softly. Jisung took a moment, the words taking a while to sink in, but it didn't take long for him to respond. To the best of his ability, anyway.

"I-I do, but you-and I--and we...but--MINHO!" Again, he tried his best. But in the end, he couldn't do much about the situation. He was too much in shock about what was going on. It didn't take long for Minho to come through the door, seeing both of you.

"What...?"

"She kissed me, and I wanna kiss her, but she's drunk, an-and--"

"Wait, slow down. What?" Minho looked between the two of you, only to see you trying to kiss Jisung again. Instead, you latched onto his neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses. That only made Jisung whine.

"Min!" Jisung whined, looking to Minho. He didn't need to ask any more questions, instead going to you and moving you off of Jisung, and more onto him.

"You gotta be careful, y'know. It's pretty easy to turn Jisung on when you do stuff like that to him." Minho told you, pressing a kiss to your head.

"It is?"

"Yeah. Look at him, you can see his cock through his sweats." Minho was right. You could see the tent forming already. And to your drunk self, it was beyond hot.

"I wan' it in ma mouth."

"Y/N!" Jisung yelled, his face blushing as he moved to hide his boner. Minho just let out a sigh, looking over to your desk to spot that familiar purple box.

"Ji, why don't you go and grab that purple box over on her desk?" Minho asked, Jisung nodding. He quickly went to grab it, while Minho grabbed your water and held it to your mouth. "As for you, you really have to sober up, or your hangover's gonna beat your ass."

"Mm...but I wanna kiss you." You said, looking up at Minho. He just sighed, helping you drink your water while Jisung handed the box to him.

"Tell you what? If you finish this water, I'll kiss you." Minho told you. Oh, intoxicated you was so down. And so, you got right to work on your water, sipping quickly, but not to the point of chugging it. After all, you knew your limits. You knew that if you chugged the water, you'd definitely end up throwing up.

So it was slow and steady.

Soon enough, your water had been downed. You set the glass on the nightstand (You tried, it almost fell off and Jisung somehow managed to catch it), looking to Minho. He already had your melatonin diffuser out of it's box and ready to go for you to take it.

"Good girl." Minho told you, giving you a smile. He was honestly just happy to see you finish your water. You smiled at the praise, knowing what was coming next.

"Kiss?" You asked, Minho complying. He leaned down, placing his lips on yours. His lips were also soft and fit perfectly with yours. But unlike Jisung, who was completely frozen in shock by your actions, Minho took charge of the kiss, leading you through it. He knew what he wanted, and he made sure he got it.

Hot.

But the kiss didn't last long, as Minho pulled away, making you whine. That single sound you made hit both Minho and Jisung hard, going straight to their cocks. The only difference was that while Minho managed to hide the fact that your whine turned him on, Jisung just whined in response, looking to Minho.

"Min..." Jisung whimpered. He just sighed, not looking to Jisung. Instead, he placed the diffuser into your mouth. As if it were an instinct, you breathed in, taking a puff, before letting it out, feeling the coolness of the vapers hit your throat as they left your mouth.

"Go to the bedroom, strip, and wait for me. And you better not fucking touch yourself, or you're not cumming. Got it?" Minho then spoke. His eyes glanced to Jisung, the look alone sending a shiver down Jisung's back. But he wasn't about to pass up the opportunity.

And so, Jisung flew off the bed and went to his and Minho's room, awaiting what Minho had planned for him.

"As for you..." Minho said, looking down at you. You were leaning against his chest, still breathing in the melatonin diffuser, probably on your 4th puff. "How many hits do you have to take in order for the melatonin to kick in?"

"S-Seven, but 'm already tired...wanna cuddle..." You said, looking up at Minho with a pout. Minho smiled, placing a kiss on your forehead.

"Not tonight, okay? I can't keep Ji waiting for so long. Otherwise, he'll get into some trouble." Minho said, moving some hair out of your face. "But I can give you some cuddles tomorrow when you're going through your hangover."

"Fine, but you better keep your word, Minnie." You mumbled, rubbing your eyes. At this point, you were fighting sleep. You didn't want to go to sleep, but between the melatonin and the alcohol, you were pretty close to passing out. Course, Minho was also extremely comfortable.

"I will. Now, let's lay you down." Minho said gently. He helped you lay down so you were comfortable and pulled the blanket over you, placing a kiss onto your forehead. By the time he went back to look at you, you were out. Minho smiled, gently stroking your cheek with his thumb.

You were so precious.

"Sleep tight, baby." Minho whispered to you. He left one last kiss on your forehead, not being able to help himself, before going over to his and Jisung's room, having some sexual frustrations that had to be let loose. Not to Minho's surprise, Jisung did too.

The second that Minho made it into their room, there was Jisung on the bed, completely naked on his hands and knees, looking behind him to meet Minho's dark stare.

"Min... need you..." Jisung whined, Minho smirking. He walked up to Jisung, placing his hands onto his ass and spreading his cheeks, admiring the way his cock jumped at the feeling of his hands, and his tight hole clench.

"Damn right, you do." Minho growled, leaning down and licking his hole. Jisung immediately gasped, his hips jerking back to get more friction. "Before I fuck you, you need to promise that you'll stay quiet."

"B-But why--"

"Y/n just fell asleep, and we both know she's gonna be in for it in the morning. I promise you can be loud some other time, but she needs to rest for now." Minho told him, carefully slipping his fingers into Jisung's ass. To his surprise, he was already stretched out and ready to go. "Jisung, did you--"

"I-I know, I know you said to not touch myself, but I was so desperate, an-and I wanted to be ready for your cock, Min... need it so bad, I--"

"Hm." Minho just sat up, keeping his fingers inside of Jisung, taking his own cock out of his pants. Jisung didn't know what that meant, but it got him both nervous and extremely excited. "I'll let it go this time. But next time, you do exactly what I tell you. That includes no prepping."

"Yeah! Yes, of course, 'm sorry, I just--it won't happen again, promise--" Instead of finishing, Jisung cut himself off with a long moan, Minho's hand going to cover his mouth as he pushed all the way into Jisung's tight ass.

"Remember, quiet." Minho told him. Jisung nodded, putting his hand over Minho's. And with that, Minho began to thrust, going at a pretty moderate pace. Enough to give pleasure to both, but not to the point where it was unbearably slow or ungodly fast.

It was just right.

Minho's brow furrowed at the feeling of Jisung clenching around him, his thighs tensing as he heard Jisung's muffled moans and whines. God, he loved Jisung's noises, but it was too risky to uncover his mouth. If there was anything Minho knew about his boyfriend, it was that Jisung was vocal.

"Good boy, nice and quiet for me. You're doing good." Minho told him, leaning down and kissing his neck. It only made Jisung moan out louder. Not that he could help it, as his neck was sensitive. "She really got you riled up, didn't she? Got your cock all hard, your mind all foggy. You even got to feel her soft lips on yours, didn't you?"

Jisung nodded, agreeing with Minho's words. He did, and he'd love to feel them again. They were addicting, those lips of yours. He wanted more of them. More of you. And Minho felt the exact same way. God, and that whine of yours...it wasn't even because you were horny or needy, it was just because you wanted to kiss Minho more.

If that's how you whined for something so simple, so minuscule, Minho couldn't help but think about how loud you could get if you were being fucked by him or Jisung. And those thoughts went straight to his dick, making that knot in his stomach grow quicker than ever.

"Shit, I'm not gonna last that long, baby. Y'gotta meet me there, stroke yourself." Minho instructed. Jisung instantly followed them, wrapping a hand around his raging cock and quickly stroking it, crying out at the stimulation. Judging by the way Jisung was squirming, Minho could tell that Jisung wasn't gonna last either. "Just-Just cum whenever, baby. Just let go, fuck, I'm gonna--oh, I'm cumming! Shit, I'm cumming!"

And like that, Minho released inside of Jisung, filling him up. The feeling of being so full was what did Jisung in, the boy practically wailing as he shot his load into his hand. Once Minho was sure that Jisung had released fully, he removed his hand from Jisung's mouth, only to be pulled into a kiss.

Their lips locked together, tongues dancing. Jisung was frantic, just like always. But there was also a sense of laziness to it. Minho was lazy too but was more precise. And when they parted, panting into each other's mouths, Jisung smiled, lifting his head up so he could touch Minho's forehead with his.

"Fuck, I love you so much, Min." He told him, Minho smiling at his words.

"I love you too, Ji." Minho replied, kissing his cheek before getting up so he could clean himself off. Jisung just laid, flipping to his back and waiting for him there on the bed.

As Minho stood in the bathroom, gently wiping his softened cock off and getting a warm rag for Jisung, he couldn't help but think about why you had even gone out drinking in the first place. Something about ignoring your feelings? What feelings could they have possibly been?

Jisung was quick to tell that Minho was thinking about it, seeing his brow furrowed in thought as he walked over and started wiping Jisung down. Jisung frowned, watching Minho carefully as he was cleaned, letting Minho take his hand to work on it after his cock had been fully cared for.

"You're thinking about something." Jisung pointed out. Minho sighed, setting the rag somewhere on the counter. When he got back to the bed, Jisung moved his head so his eyes would meet Minho's, giving him a concerned look. "What's wrong?"

"It's just...don't you find it weird that Y/n went drinking without telling us? Or inviting you?"

"Well, we were out on a date. Maybe she didn't want to bother us."

"But she never wants to drink out of nowhere. Let alone without you. Hell, I think the only time I've ever seen her drink was when you were with her. She would've waited, wouldn't she?"

"Maybe something was bothering her and she just needed a distraction? I don't know, it's not worth looking into. We shouldn't question her decisions, y'know?"

"Yeah, I know. But...then again, it's not like her to want to be so physical with us. Even when drunk. It just makes me wonder..."

"Wonder about what?"

"What if she does like us? I mean, why else would she really want to kiss both of us, and be so cuddly?"

"Well, I don't know. But I've never seen her so drunk. Maybe it's because she was wasted when she got back." Jisung just let out a sigh, shrugging. "Like I said, it doesn't make sense to question it right now. We're reading way too much into it."

"Are you sure?" Minho asked, Jisung nodding.

"Yeah. If there's anything I've learned, a drunk Y/n is a hard to read Y/n. It's difficult to tell what she's thinking, what she's feeling." Jisung said, smiling at Minho. He gently guided him up to lay next to him, placing his head onto his chest and relaxing against him. Feeling Jisung relax made Minho relax a bit too. "I think the first step is to see if she even remembers what happened tonight. If she does, we gently tread. If not, we just keep taking things slow."

"Wow, you sound just like me." Minho told Jisung. He just giggled as Minho placed a kiss onto his head, his smile not fading.

"Yeah, well, it's what you've been telling me to do for how long?" Jisung remarked, letting out a yawn. "Let's just focus on helping Y/n out through her hangover, and we'll go from there."

Minho just smiled, pulling Jisung close to him and closing his eyes. Jisung did the same, feeling the comfort and warmth radiating off of Minho.

"Sounds like a plan."

Hey! Firstly, thank you so much for reading this post, and I really hope you enjoyed! If you did, please like, reblog, or comment so I can see how I'm doing with writing and getting feedback! I hope you have a lovely day! Sleep well, stay in good health, and eat something if you haven't! ❤️❤️❤️

[letmesleep8]

the fucking punchline // elliexreader

CHAPTER 1: White Carnations

Ao3

content warnings/tags: drug usage (weed), implied daddy issues

notes: hello lesbians! this is my second ever fanfiction here on tumblr, quick reminder: i didn't drop the other one. this is kinda slowburn and also kinda daisy jones & the six inspired, so if you like that book you might like this too. i'll always link up the songs I used in the story at the end of the chapter. hope you enjoy. <3

taglist: @lorelaihehe @lonelyfooryouonly

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────••─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────••─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

September 09th, 2023 

Time shakes, found you at the water 

At first you were a problem my father, now I love you like a father a brother

Earthquakes shake the dust behind you

This world at times will blind you

Still I know I’ll see you there

The calloused, ink stained hands scribbled on a sketchbook, next to a drawing of what seemed to be a wolf. On the same page, Ecology notes got lost between chord progressions and two-sentence long lyrics. Near the margin, a quick but precise drawing of Dina’s eyes. 

Ellie was sitting in the corner of her Organic Chemistry lecture at Jackson’s Community College, hiding her freckled body under a gray sweatshirt and her sleepy eyes behind overgrown face-framing bangs. As the professor finally called the class off, she got up from her seat, walking to her visibly well loved truck, its blue paint holding scratches and slight dents, clearly faded from the sun

I sat on my window as I watched her old truck drive by, as loud as always. I was waiting for my nails to dry, afraid that the maroon polish would stick to everything if I didn’t have the  patience to let it take its sweet time. She got off her truck and stepped on her cigarette before  going through the front door. 

I had met Jesse a few weeks earlier, it was karaoke night at the bar. I managed to get a few drinks from the old creeps there and was already feeling a bit too “happy” when I stepped onto the improvised stage we had set up and gave that bikers’ bar the best drunk performance of “Hopelessly Devoted to You” they had ever seen. 

I have always loved to sing. Writing, playing  the  guitar, putting up concerts for my family in my living room. Music is my soul. But I’ve come from a reality where art wasn’t an option, being an artist would not pay my rent, nor would it show to my  parents that I wasn’t a complete disaster. So I worked as a waitress and saved up  to  the last cent of any tips I would get, only spending enough to pay my parents my contribution to what they spent so I  could go to cosmetology school

After I finished my fifteen minutes of fame, I went back to the cold reality and started cleaning up some tables. That was when Jesse came up to me, drunk and full of compliments to give. He had a girl beside him, Dina. He started rambling about his band and how they’re so good that they even do weddings, and then he asked me if I had ever auditioned for a singing  gig  at all. I was full of confidence and whisky, so I gave him my number when he said they could  use another vocalist

The next morning I had basically forgotten about my new deal, and I figured he would have forgotten about it  too. But I was wrong. The boy did not forget about it, in fact, he kept calling me to schedule my “audition”. So I finally gave in. I grabbed my guitar case and started walking to the address he gave me. It was just down the street from my house, at  the Miller’s. I held the case on my shoulder and walked towards the open garage door. There were Dina, Jesse and the girl I had only seen from my window every now and then. 

– You actually came! – Jesse got up from his seat, walking his way to me. – Oh, you play the guitar  too? Damn, Williams, found someone else to do your work. – He joked and the girl gave him an annoyed look, sitting comfortably on the old chair inside the garage. I couldn’t help but observe how her thighs set apart from each other and her head was thrown back mindlessly. 

– So, are you gonna show me what you’re all about? You seem to have really impressed the other two. – She gestured for me to sit on a stool, her voice was, honestly, cold but not in an unfriendly way. She seemed nonchalant, but not distant. Her green eyes had the warmth her mouth seemed to lack and her face was strangely expressive, like someone who had spent their developing  years in front of the tv instead of talking to people, but it complemented her sharp voice just perfectly. 

– This is a song I wrote a few weeks ago. It’s not finished yet, but I think it’s fine. – I spoke as I tuned in the guitar while keeping my eyes mostly on the girl, who seemed to be paying close attention to me and, at the same time, seemed to disdain me. 

She analyzed my every move as I started singing. I could see some curiosity peeking through her eyes when I began performing the first verse. 

“She's asleep in the backseat

 Looking peaceful enough to me

 But she's wakin' up inside a dream

 Full of screeching tires and fire”

I played the chords and kept singing the words, trying to mask the knot on my throat. “Emily, I’m sorry, baby / You know how I get when I’m wrong” I tried to keep my voice from shaking;  not because of the lyrics, I haven’t talked to Emily since 8th grade and, honestly, I just think it’s a beautiful name. I wanted to cry because I felt anxious. Turns out it hurts more to overcome your fears when your blood is not 50% whisky.

It was as if I could listen to my  father screaming from a distance: “you are a waste of time!” Suddenly, it was like I could slowly feel my blood going through my veins all throughout my body, sliding like raindrops on a window. I was feeling overwhelmed, the song felt never ending and I was sure that I had gotten at least 30% of all the notes wrong. I didn’t realize how much I wanted this, how much I craved for a chance to showcase my songs, a chance to pretend that my dreams were possible. And in my head, it was all over, until I heard Ellie’s voice from across the room.

– Sounds good to me. – She shrugged her shoulders and raised her eyebrows. – If you two think she’s good then she’s good and she’s in. I’d be the odd one out anyway. Dina flashed me a warm smile and gave me a side hug.

– Welcome to the band! – She nudges my arm.

– Rehearsal every Sunday, Wednesday and Thursday from 3 to 5 pm. – Jesse smiled from the worn out couch he was lazily lying on. 

We decided to spend the rest of the afternoon getting to know each other better. Dina talked about some songs she would like to perform at their next weddings, Jesse laid back on the couch and played with the drum sticks. The band had some work of their own, but not many since Ellie was basically the only one who was more interested in writing than playing covers. 

– Hey – I was sitting on the floor and scrolling on my phone, Ellie scooted closer to me, brushing her jeans against my knee. – D’you write that song by yourself? The “Emily” one and shit? 

– It’s called “Emily, I’m sorry”. – I chuckled, nodding. – Yeah, I did. I actually write a lot of songs. Why?

She reached out for her sketchbook inside of her forest green backpack, I couldn’t help but notice how it matches her eyes almost too perfectly. She flipped the yellow pages  until she found a small verse of lyrics to show me. I wasn’t really used to showing unfinished lyrics to people but I grabbed the small handbook in my pocket.

Do you understand the things that you’ve been seeing?

Do you  understand the things that you’ve been dreaming?

Come a little closer, then you’ll see

– I woke up in the middle of the night last week and wrote this down on my phone. Do you think it could perhaps work with the melody you wrote? 

– Well, actually… – She scratched the back of her head and looked up. 

– You haven’t thought of a melody yet, have you? – I smirked.

– No, no, of course I have, I just… – She stuttered. – It just needs a bit of… refining.

– Refining, huh? – I chuckled.

Jesse told Dina he was bored and, with a smirk, they both decided it was time to go watch a movie at his house. I was ready  to take my things and leave too, but Ellie stopped me.

– Hey, wait! – She called for me. – Do you want to work on the song? I mean, I ain’t got no professional studio but we could make it work with what I  have. The others don’t really like to write and shit, I was thinking maybe we could give that one a try.

– Oh, sure. – I smiled softly. 

She closed the garage door, giving us some more privacy. Ellie reached for the laptop on a tools table, it was plugged into a reasonably nice mic, she must have saved up for ages to buy it. She also got an electric guitar out of the case and started to tune it. With my acoustic guitar, I started humming a few different generic melodies that came to my head, until Ellie liked one and decided to try to follow it with her guitar. We stayed there for a while.

– Do you like it that way? I don’t think it’s working out well enough. 

I scratched the back of my head, my eyes narrowed. I rubbed my hands over my face. 

– I don’t know, I'm just having trouble locking in, I guess. We could give up for now, if  you want. 

– I know something that could help, if you’re up for it. – She smirked slightly. Maybe I was overthinking it, but I could swear I saw her eyes wander to my mouth. – I  mean, if you’re even a smoker, of course. 

– Oh. – I fell into reality and felt stupid. – Oh yeah, sure, I- I mean, we could try. Cool.

She got up and gestured to me to follow, I put the guitar on the case and took it with us. We exited the garage through a small door that led to the kitchen. Her house was messy enough to be acknowledged as a college student’s but it was furnished like some kind of family had once lived in that space

She led me up the stairs, into her room. I shyly sat on the edge of her bed and she got some weed and some silk out of her bedside table. She started rolling it up and I watched as she licked it together in record time, I would be lying to say I wasn’t impressed. A simple lighter came out of her pocket and she took a long hit before passing it over to me. I brought both the blunt and her gaze up to my lips, taking a drag not as experienced as hers. It wasn’t  my  first time smoking but I was scared to bite more than I could chew, for some reason.

– So, are you from around town? Never seen you around. –  She was trying to break the ice. I got up from her bed and walked towards her window, she was quick to follow after me. 

– Right there. – I pointed to the other side of the street, about three or four houses over. She seemed surprised. 

– Really?! – She spoke, surprised. –  I thought that was where the annoying lady from the Neighborhood Association lived. The one that’s always telling people to speed down and shit.

– Yeah, that’s my mom. – I laughed as I watched her cheeks  grow a bright red, her eyes trying to look anywhere but mine. – It’s okay, she really is annoying. She does that to me too and I’m her own daughter. – I sat on her windowsill, taking another drag of the joint. She joined me, sitting by my side. 

– I mean, she never complained about the noise during the band’s practice sessions. Gotta give her that, though. 

I laughed and she took the weed back. 

– She can be a bit mean but she is a music lover, after all. Maybe you’ve found her soft spot with that one. 

– Aw shit, gonna have to give her tickets to our next underground-bar concert. 

We both laughed at the idea of my mom at one of our shows. 

– Gonna make sure to tell her to look out for it. – That was when I realized I hadn’t asked a really important question. – What’s the band’s name anyway?

– White Carnations. – Ellie took another hit, blowing the smoke outside and passing it to me.

– White Carnations… – I breathed out the smoke. – I like it. Any particular reason for the name? 

– I don’t know. – She shrugged her shoulders. – Sounded good, I guess. – She was clearly lying, but I didn’t want to push her too hard so I changed the subject. 

I went back to playing some chords on the guitar and we were lost in a comfortable silence, until I had an idea. I started humming something along the lines of: “Ten thousand people stand alone now / And in the evening the sun sank, tomorrow it will rise / Time flies by, they all sing along”, repeating the last line over and over until Ellie started singing it too. At some point she simply changed it to “time flies, bye-bye” and I absolutely loved it. It sounded like something you’d point the mic at people so they could scream at a concert

Only then I realized my bare feet were in her lap, like we had been the closest of friends for ages and not distant neighbors that only now realized that each other existed. Her tattooed hand rested on top of my ankles and her hazy eyes and smile seemed as familiar as my mirror. That evening we wrote the entirety of ‘Come A Little Closer” while sitting on her bedroom window, then ate a bunch of chocolate covered ice cream bites.

[imaginidol]

Hongjoong: Chords and Keys

“Hongjoong,” you quietly knock against the recording room’s door designated for ATEEZ.

“Come in,” calls a voice from inside.

You smile as you carefully creak the door ajar and peek inside. You’re hiding a warmed tea you’d just brewed for your new crush, a usual routine you’d committed to in hopes of helping de-stress his voice between recordings. It hadn’t been too long since you and Hongjoong had started talking, but it was so obvious you were both pretty into each other.

“Thank you so much,” he says as he graciously accepts the mug from your hands. “You’re always the best.”

“Anytime,” you smile, your eyes tracing the papers and equipment scattered about in front of him. “What’s new with you?”

“I’m putting together a couple songs, just experimenting to see what sounds good and what doesn’t.”

“Your songs always end up sounding amazing, Joong.”

The tired boy smiles and lets out a sigh. He puts his head down for a moment on the keyboard, heaving a loud “I’m just so tired!” under his arms.

You walk over to stand behind him, offering a small neck massage as you peered over his lyrics.

He lifts his head and, to your surprise, takes your hands from his shoulders and pulls you forward.

Oof! Your face is now practically right next to his, your hands outstretched in front of you as he gently wraps your arms around his shoulders.

“Stay there,” he whispers, turning his attention to the MIDI keyboard in front of him, “let me play something for you.”

You find yourself now comfortably hugging him from behind as he begins with a simple chord progression, humming out a tune and singing a few lyrics between breaths here and there. The progression and slow singing soon develop into a beautiful song, his eyes closed as he sings every word, each line dedicated to you.

He then plays a pre-recorded track that he’d composed earlier as an interlude and keyboard solo that would be the finishing touch to this song.

“This song,” he said, placing one hand over yours as the peaceful soundtrack plays in the background, “I got inspiration for it from DPR’s song Kiss Me. I hope you liked it, because I couldn’t stop thinking of you.”

He grabs your hands and intertwines his fingers around yours, bringing your palms closer to his chest. He turns his face to yours, his lips grazing ever so gently against your cheek.

Is this really about to happen? Is all you can think in your head as you feel the soft lips of your crush against your skin.

You begin to gently turn to face him, closing your eyes as you invite your own lips to hug his.

The sweet and tender moment grew as each new kiss lasted longer and firmer than the last. You could feel him smiling as he placed kisses against your lips, the corners of your lips, your bottom lip, everywhere.

A couple minutes pass before his phone pings from the desk as a notification ensues, forcing Hongjoong’s focus back to reality.

“I’m sorry,” he says, looking down at the keyboard as the time on the desk clock flashed 11:47pm. “I didn’t mean to get carried away—”

You laugh and finish his sentence by planting a kiss on his cheek, hugging him tighter from behind as you took in every detail of the precious moment.

“How much longer do you have to work tonight?” You ask, looking over his papers.

“I could call it a night,” he responds.

You notice the darkened circles under his eyes, realizing he must’ve been exhausted.

“Hey,” you say, “I have an idea.”

“What’s that?”

“What if you sleepover at my place tonight? I have lots of extra clothes for guests, too.”

He smiles, pulling you in closer for another heap of kisses, his soft giggles answering your questions for the warm, peaceful night with your new boyfriend that would now surely ensue.

more ateez here: mingi yunho san jongho

[kaciidubs]

KACII BABY COMPOSER CHAN IS STUCK IN MY HEAD i miss him so much, like imagine walking in on him hard at work<3 he's such a genius and so fucking professional :( and and hes so focused :( and and he's wearing his black hat :(

its so hot and i wanna sit on his cock

and that rhymed which is even better :(

anyways, love you kacii baby<3

ESTEE BESTIEE PLEASE, COMPOSING MODE! CHAN IS SUCH A CONCEPT!! Girlie i miss him too it's insane :((

You come by his studio for a surprise visit, ready to offer him a quick lunch date when you hear the rhythmic ticking of the digital metronome and see his hand flexing around his mouse as he edits a track.

He's working, of course.

And honestly you should have called beforehand, but you don't always get the chance to see your lover doing what he does best, and you're honestly excited to watch him now.

He pauses mid-movement and turns to you with a look of confusion, "Baby? Hey, what're you doing here? Did I forget a date or something?" A flash of worry streaks across his face, "I mean- Not that I'm not happy to see you! I love seeing you, it's just-"

"You didn't forget anything, Channie, don't worry," you cut off his rambling with a smile, letting the door close behind you as you walk toward his chair, "just wanted to pop in for a visit and see what you and the boys were up to."

A soft, relieved smile grows on Chris' lips and he tugs you closer into his bubble, his hand wrapped around yours with a light swing. "Ah, well, I'm a little in the middle of making a track so I won't be as entertaining as I usually am - if you wanna find the others-"

"Can I watch?"

"Huh?"

You raise your free hand to twirl a stray curl that's sticking out from underneath the brim of his black cap, "I wanna watch you - I'm not in a rush, plus I can't remember the last time I actually got to see you make the next Stray Kids masterpiece."

His eyes crease as he laughs that little high pitched giggle you've always loved, a tiny squeak accenting the end as he tilts his head away. "Masterpiece is a stretch, but you can watch me if you want to - if you get bored and wanna leave, I won't be offended."

Taking that as your offer accepted, you pull up the spare computer chair and sit next to him, watching diligently as he readjusts his hat and fluffs up his hoodie before hopping right back into the world of tempos and samples.

And, honestly? You love it.

You love seeing the shift from your giggly, adorable boyfriend to the focused, goal oriented leader of the fourth generation; the unwavering focus of his eyes on the computer screen in front of him as he drags and drops various sources with abbreviated file names you couldn't even begin to guess.

Once he's edited the background beat to something you think he may be pleased with - for now at least - he slides his midi keyboard over and plays with a few chords, his long, pretty fingers dancing along the ivory-plastic keys.

It's intoxicating, truly, the way he licks his lips as he finds the progression he's looking for, but struggles to navigate where it ends - the soft huff when he plays it over and over so his short term memory won't forget the notes.

Slowly, you've gone from watching him make music to simply watching him, studying him in his element, observing him and the habits you've seen in other settings. You can't help but squeeze your legs together, your breathing subconsciously slowing as you watch his adam's apple bob when he swallows, the column of his neck stretching as his head moves to search the large monitor.

"I can feel your eyes on me, baby girl." He murmurs, a sideways smirk tugging his lips, "You're gonna burn a hole into the side of my face, you know?"

"Can't help it," you breathe softly, eyes now tracing the sharp angle of his jaw, "you look so fucking sexy when you're making music."

A squeak of confusion resonates from him as he makes a change in the file, "Really? I'm just sitting here, what's so sexy about that?"

Usually, if he were truly busy, he'd pass off your fueled comment with a shy chuckle, but a few hours have passed and he'd gotten a lot further than he expected - a short break was definitely earned.

"The way you look at the screen, like nothing else exists around you, and the way your hands move when you know you've got something good going and you can't waste a single second," licking your lips, you tilt your head slightly, "or the way you bite your lip when you're really into whatever thought's running through that genius brain of yours- just makes me wanna..."

"Wanna what?" He turned to face you, lidded eyes flicking between your own lust-fogged irises and your slightly parted lips. "Wanna what, baby girl?"

Tugging your bottom lip between your teeth, a rush of heat washes over you under his intense stare.

"Wanna sit on your dick and have you record some sounds of our own."