#my boy was singing his heart out on that album

[forestfrolickingfairy78]

Linked Universe Headcanons: What I think each of their roles would be in a boy band

I'm surprised how popular my prev one was! I was chatting to a non fan friend and she was curious what they would be like in a band, and asked me who the rapper would be...I reckon WILD hahah

Anyways...

Time: Not an active member but used to be a solo artist back in the day, he doesn't like being in the limelight as much and mentors/manages the rest of them. Still has that suave quality, a total heart throb and occasionally hosts a one off concert only available to the VIPS. He was the IT boy back in the day.

Warriors: Leader of the band and all rounder. He's a complete heartbreaker, can sing, and dance every style and fans go crazy over him. Very charismatic and flirty, knows how to make a fan feel special at a meet and greet and always takes a photo with them.

Twilight: I think lead guitarist, can sing beautifully and has one of the most charming voices, also very yeehaw and country when he goes on solo tour dates or drops his album. He's dripping with quiet confidence and doesn't share too much about his private life to fans, likes to keep a boundary between his private and professional life but will always be kind of them and never deny a photo or autograph

Sky: Has a beautiful voice, more shy and s o f t, he's one of the more quieter members and doesn't like being on camera as much but doesn't hate it either. Has that sweet prince charming vibe that everyone loves, would probably be a part time model on top of his band duties. Can play the guitar and bass

Wild: Absolute hardcore. He's def the main rapper and won't pass up the chance to drop any bars. He'll def go on rap battle tv shows and break EVERYONE. Mans got flow and swag, especially after getting a full arm of tattoos. What's the backstory behind them? He'll change it everytime he's on an interview. Absolute coolest dude on earth, fans LOVE him and how chill he is but you don't want to get on this guy's bad side or you'll be on his diss track list. Even the others are slightly scared of him. Always on social media posting selfies and updates, or threatening other artists that come for him or his band. Likes to film the other members to until Time tells him to cut it out and touch grass

Legend: I can see him having a lot of range in his voice, very powerful and can sing ballads. One of the lead singers and occasionally helps with writing songs. He CAN dance if he puts his heart and soul into it. He loves writing poetry and secretly writes love songs for himself based on a special girl, but he'll tear them up before anyone sees them. Would Probably records an incredible, heartfelt song he wrote and composed himself on his instagram then delete it after 5 hours beccause he'll be like, why the hell did I just do that? Fans would cry, wishing he would post more gems like that. Hates to be in the front but also fairly confident in his skills. Fans adore him because you can just see he's actually a big softie on the inside despite that tough exterior he puts up. Secretly jealous of Wild's rap ability, can't rap to save his life but maybe, one day.

Hyrule:

One of the lead singers, has the most melodic voice and can absolutely stun a crowd with his angelic vocals. Like Legend, also is one of the members with the most range. You know when you see someone in person and their just glowing? Yea, that's him. Sweetest celeb ever, everyone that's worked with him only has good things to say about this guy. Definitely has the most potential to go solo as well with his incredible piano skills. Can also play almost every other instrument, an absolute talent in everything. He also sponsors charities every now and then and interacts with fans on social media. Can do contemporary dance

Wind/Four: Tbh I think they would be good in broad way, both are great singers and still very much fanboys to the others. Their working their way, still in training. Can definitely see Wind going big on broadway and theatre and specialising in tap dance

Can you guess who is my bias? Or who's your bias? hehe

[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

Lonely St. really is the only song stopping Oddinary from being a perfect album huh

[radio-4-is-static]

KATATOKI Teaser | Yojiro Noda x J.I.D Listen to WONDER BOY'S AKUMU CLUB here !!

[xinganhao]

🎭 svt when idol!reader releases a breakup song.

anon → "may i request when idol!s/o releases a breakup song? maybe for like a promotion or a comeback but not because of svt iykwim"

⌗ ┆ i have a soft spot for my earlier idol!reader work so it was fun to revisit them <3 a little more crack, less headcanons than usual lol

‧₊˚✩彡 includes: idol!reader, f!reader, established relationship, pet names, fluff, crack, [short] headcanons under the cut.

🎭 headcanons .ᐟ

— drama line ✩ seungcheol, junhui, mingyu, vernon.

all the boys are bound to kick up a fuss one way or another, but nobody throws a tantrum like choi seungcheol. that man will be on your case for weeks. "why couldn't it have been a love song? why are you so good at singing about breakups?" junhui is equally dramatic, though in a different manner. he goes down the route of spite. the song is officially banned in the dorms. if anyone plays it in his vicinity, he will honest-to-goodness glare them down. as far as he's concerned, you have no reason to be crooning about situationships when you have a perfectly good partner waiting for you at home! mingyu is in the exact same boat, by the way. he is personally offended. he knows he's been a good boyfriend. and you're out here singing like he's broken your heart? oh, hell no. mingyu is going to get ridiculously over the top with his boyfriendisms to prove a point to— well, maybe just to himself. in contrast to the rest, vernon takes a different approach. a little moral high road, if you will. he doesn't whine about it, but he does get— in the other boys' words— 'emo' about the whole thing. an instagram rebrand? frank ocean being one of his top artists of the month? ... you get the picture.

— sweetheart line ✩ joshua, soonyoung, wonwoo, seokmin, minghao, seungkwan.

a good number of the boys would take the breakup song with relative grace. joshua is aware that it's strictly work, but he doesn't miss out on the opportunity to tease you a bit about it. he'll take any opportunity to remind you of how much he cares about you, even if it is in a roundabout sort of way. wonwoo usually errs more on the side of rationality, too, though this breakup song scares him just a teensy bit. he doesn't bother you about it; he'll cope in his own little way until he comes around. (he's not opposed to reaffirmations of your love, though.) at this point? soonyoung and seungkwan can be a comedy act, really. we have soonyoung apologizing for every little thing he's done, just so he can ascertain that you will not be writing about him in your next album. and then we have seungkwan who assumes the song is a not-so subliminal message of some sorts; he is immensely relieved when you tell him that you're not, in fact, ending things via comeback. and the sweetest of them all. seokmin doesn't care if it's a four minute song. he'll take apart every single lyric, offering you reassurances that you don't even need, until you have a hard time performing the song with sincerity because your boyfriend has made it much less convincing. meanwhile, minghao spends hours ruminating before just asking outright. he's a bit shy at the fact that he's potentially overthought this, although he'd much rather be overprepared on being a good boyfriend than fall on the other end of the coin.

— revenge line ✩ jeonghan, jihoon, chan.

did you think jeonghan was kidding about couple's therapy? absolutely not. booking a session for the two of you is, in part, a joke, sure. but he's also a believer in therapy, anyway, so it becomes one of your... admittedly weirder dates, but there are certainly worse ways to unpack this non-issue. jihoon and chan stick to what they know best. jihoon's teasing of a 'response' song just means that there's going to be a certain track in the next mini-album that may or may not answer the questions/refute the claims/reassures the worries of your breakup ballad. he's classy that way. chan, on the other hand, has a lot less finesse. he's not so subtle in the way he literally makes up a routine— is it a slow song? he'll do contemporary, then!— and posts it for everyone to see. he needs everyone to know that he is unbothered. flourishing. in his lane.

[moonlinos]

A dwindling, mercurial high

♡ Pairing: Bang Chan × fem!reader

♡ Genre: Childhood best friends, angst

♡ CW: Explicit sexual content (minors dni!), cheating, both Chan and Reader are morally gray characters, mentions of smoking, drinking, fingering, hand job, unprotected sex

♡ Word count: 10.1k

♡ Synopsis: Despite his love for you since childhood, Chan silently watched from the sidelines as you fell in love with your mutual friend. Your happiness has always been his priority, even at the expense of his own. But he can only endure the pain with a smile on his face for so long. With your growing realization that your fiancé is no longer the man you once loved, his longing to finally escape his torment and confess his feelings becomes unbearable.

♡ A/N: Based off a request by anon! Thank you for requesting 🩷 Cheating is bad, kids, this is fiction. Sorry to my boy Changbin, I used a random wheel to decide who would be the other member 🥲 I’ll focus on lighter stories now ‘cause I feel like this one turned out heavier than I anticipated lol

Chan has known you since he was ten years old.

He’s sure he has been in love with you for just as long.

He wouldn’t be able to give an exact date; loving you has simply always been a part of his life. Your smile that’s engraved in his mind, your laughter he’s memorized, your mind which still fascinates him after so many years — it all wraps around his heart like a vice, making him a willing captive to this one-sided love.

For Chan, love is selflessness; sacrificing anything for the happiness of the one he loves. He doesn’t know anything but loving you, and his unwavering dedication to your happiness has led him to sacrifice his own for years.

Unbeknownst to you, Chan has been withering away slowly as you’ve grown happier.

But your happiness and his unrequited love never truly hurt him until the age of twenty.

It was Minho’s birthday, and he played the best friend card to convince Chan to buy fake IDs from a sketchy guy at their university. Your friend group drove to a deserted parking lot after buying far too much alcohol — Chan remembers the recurring thought inside his fuzzy mind was how much that situation would validate your parents’ scorching hatred for him if they were to find out.

You had your head on his shoulder, sitting on the bed of Minho’s truck, watching as the rest of your friends suffered the consequences of their indulgence. Chan’s face lit up with a smile at the sound of your giggle when Miyeon yelled at Changbin for being so loud, threatening to destroy his beloved girl group albums if he didn’t shut up.

Chan’s emotions always mirrored your own; so long as you had a smile on your face, he swore he could find joy even in the worst situations.

Even when you unknowingly shattered his heart into a million pieces, your happiness still brought him joy.

“I never got around to finishing my story,” you told him, words slurred and voice hoarse from singing at a noraebang earlier that night. “I only said I had a crush, but I never elaborated.”

Chan didn’t want you to elaborate.

But he knew how much you loved talking to him. Be it the weight of your indecision about your path in life or the lightheartedness of your romantic endeavors, you shared everything with him. You always said Chan was the best listener because he knew when his silence was better than any word. He knew that once your heart was set on something, there was no use trying to untangle your mind from the roots of that conviction.

So he hummed, prompting you to continue. “It’s been a while since you had a crush.”

“It sounds so lame, doesn’t it?” You scoffed, “Aren’t we too old for crushes?”

“No one’s ever too old for that,” he shrugged. “I think if you don’t allow yourself these light-hearted feelings, love will only become heavy. That’s never good.”

You placed your hand in his, playing with his fingers as a smile spread across your lips. Chan always hoped you couldn’t hear the way his heart thumped loudly against his chest whenever you touched him. 

“You’re so weirdly wise for your age.”

“And you’re so weirdly avoiding the subject,” Chan pointed out. “Come on, you never hesitated telling me shit like this. Hell, you proudly admitted to your crush on that old ass teacher when we were sixteen.”

You sat up straight, groaning at the unwelcome memory, and Chan huffed a laugh at the pout on your lips.

“I know, it’s just…”

“Just?”

“It’s someone you know,” you offered, and Chan furrowed his brows.

“That wouldn’t be a first.”

He noticed the way your hands tensed up, their grip on his fingers tightening and fidgeting nervously. You were anxious, and Chan wasn’t sure he wanted to know the reason why.

“It’s someone from our group.”

The way he froze was obvious, and your hands stilled on top of his. To this day, he hates everything about that moment: how you were so apprehensive about sharing something so trivial with him, how he selfishly felt a twinge of jealousy, and most importantly, how he could tell you were upset.

Chan promptly put aside his own feelings, having mastered this skill to the point where he could effortlessly do it. You seemed happy whenever you mentioned this crush, and he didn’t want to be the reason that happiness faded away. He laced your fingers together and offered you a smile, hoping you would reciprocate the gesture. You did, and he felt his chest blossoming with a blend of relief and melancholy.

“It’s Changbin,” you confessed, and Chan’s face remained unchanged. His smile didn’t so much as falter at your words. It often scared him how easy it had become to feign something as significant as his own emotions when it came to you. “I don’t know when it started, but I just… I really like him.”

Chan had seen you go through a couple of short-lived relationships and countless crushes that usually led nowhere; the sting of seeing you infatuated with someone else was an ache he’d long grown accustomed to. He often struggled to understand why your heart had chosen to love the people it did. It was easy to tease you and cope with the hurt when Chan knew it was only a matter of time before you realized you deserved more.

But that situation was different. This time, he could understand. Changbin was one of his best friends, after all. How would he endure the hurt when he knew Changbin was practically a mirror image of your ideal type? He was always in a good mood, always fun to be around and never failed to make anyone laugh. Chan had no doubts about how he would bend his back just to care for his friends — the day he failed his first class at university, Changbin paid his bill at the bar and carried a drunken, crying Chan home on his back.

Unlike it had been with Chan for the past ten years, your parents immediately fell in love with Changbin.

As he heard you eagerly talk about your crush on your friend that night, Chan kept his facade of the perfect best friend. His laughter and words perfectly matched your enthusiasm. Among the rain of anguish, the drop of bliss that fell onto his heart as he saw you smile again, your worry thoroughly gone, was enough to soothe his aching heart.

Because Chan’s emotions mirrored your own, and so he made it his mission to make you happy.

Even if it was with someone else.

Chan never would have guessed that you and Changbin would go beyond a simple crush.

He never would have believed if he was told your relationship would evolve beyond just hooking up.

And never in his wildest dream did he imagine that you would become engaged to him.

Yet, here he sits, six years after initially finding out about your crush, helping you choose flower arrangements for your wedding.

“I think Bin would definitely want some pink flowers,” you comment with a hum, the florist nodding along with a smile. Chan holds back a sigh. “But wouldn’t that look weird with the light blue theme?”

“I think blue and pink go great together!” The florist assures you, her excitement palpable when she starts rambling about different shades and flowers that would beautifully complement your dream wedding dress.

Chan zones out, blurry eyes focused on a single red rose that rests on the wooden table. He was understandably taken aback when you chose him as your man of honor. Miyeon had always been your closest female friend, so it was only natural that he assumed you would choose her as the maid of honor. Despite disapproval from both you and Changbin’s families, you remained unwavering in your decision. Chan knew you better than anyone in the world, you argued, therefore he was the best possible choice. The sentiment was sweet, but it didn’t lessen the ache in his heart.

As if watching you marry another man wasn’t punishing enough, he now had to help you plan the ceremony.

Your laughter brings him back to the present moment, and he quickly rises from his chair, realizing you’re already heading towards the door. Chan clears his throat, shooting the florist a small smile before walking out with you.

As soon as you step onto the streets, you ask, “You were spacing out the entire time, weren’t you?”

Chan feigns offense, clutching at his chest. “What? Of course not!” He shakes his head, and you let out a chuckle. “I was totally paying attention. Blue dress, pink flowers. I got it all memorized, don’t worry.”

“So you noticed how she was shamelessly ogling you the entire time, right?”

Absentmindedly, Chan cocks his head to the side, furrowing his brows in confusion. You narrow your eyes at him, and his expression immediately shifts into a grin.

“Ah, that. Yeah, I noticed,” he shrugs. “It was your choice to have me as your man of honor.”

You bump your shoulders together, chuckling. “I guess I should’ve known. Since you’re not my fiancé, you’ll have to endure a lot of women flirting with you.”

As your words hit him, Chan clenches his jaw, suppressing the foolish pain that wells up in his chest. He is not your fiancé; he is well aware of that, but he can’t help the sharp twinge of hurt that washes over him whenever you remind him of that fact.

He silently drives you to the gym that he and Changbin opened two years ago. It was a last-ditch effort to create something that was their own rather than succumbing to a soulless office job. Starting out in a small rundown house on a sketchy street, with barely any money for proper equipment, they could never have predicted how perfectly everything would work out.

As Chan parks in front of the building, you beam while taking the notes from the florist out of your bag, eager to share them with Changbin. You two scour the gym from top to bottom, but he’s nowhere to be found. Upon asking their receptionist, they’re informed that Changbin had left a couple of hours earlier, not giving further explanations. Chan hates the familiar sight of your smile dropping, your excitement ebbing away as you carefully tuck away your notes into your bag.

Changbin has become unusually distant lately — not only toward you but everything in general. He rarely sets foot in the gym nowadays, only popping in to ensure everything is in order before hurriedly rushing off to who knows where. Chan hopes it’s only the pre-wedding nerves getting to him, and not something that will leave you shattered and heartbroken on what is supposed to be the happiest day of your life.

But that’s all he can do — cling to that hope.

Because, deep down, Chan’s mind is filled with worries that run deeper than he will ever let on. Changbin has always been an absurdly impulsive person. The fear that his friend might be regretting his decision to propose is always lingering in the back of his mind, like a persistent echo, tormenting him and gradually eroding his heart.

He doesn’t know if he can bear to see you hurt.

He certainly doesn’t want to think about what he would do if Changbin ever dared to break your heart.

Chan hates the way you easily brush off your disappointment even more, turning to flash a bright smile at him as soon as the notes are out of your sight.

“I’ll just see him at home later tonight anyway,” you simply say. “There’s no rush.”

Over the past months, Chan has seen you dismiss your own feelings regarding your fiancé countless times, so much so that he can’t even count them on one hand. From Changbin’s constant broken promises to his complete indifference toward anything related to his own wedding, the way it upsets you is evident. Still, your dismissal of it all makes him hesitant to even mention it.

Helplessly, he can’t do anything but watch, just as he has been doing for the past six years.

A week later, the sound of the doorbell jolts Chan awake at 2 a.m.

Right after getting home from the gym, he collapsed onto the couch and dozed off before he realized. All the work he had to tackle alone left him drained. It was yet another day when Changbin vanished in the late afternoon without so much as an excuse.

Chan rushes toward the door, expecting an emergency, only to find you standing alone in the dimly lit hallway. His initial reaction was confusion; you had a spare key, after all. But as the light from his apartment hits your face, red-rimmed, teary eyes meet his own, and Chan instinctively wraps his arms around you. 

You two remain in a silent embrace for a while, with Chan selfishly reveling in the feeling of your body pressed against his. Despite your vulnerable state, he can’t help but run a hand down your back, savoring your warmth and intoxicating scent that surrounds him.

You used to hold each other frequently when you were young, thinking nothing of it and simply seeking comfort in each other’s arms. But as you entered your late teens, the tension between you became almost palpable. You no longer sought his arms solely for comfort, and that was obvious to Chan. It was obvious because he was the same. Innocent hugs evolved into wandering hands and limbs tangling in ways that were anything but platonic.

At that time, he almost thought he had stood a chance.

Until graduation day, when you two hid away inside an empty classroom, with you sat on a desk and Chan slotted between your thighs, holding you against his chest as you cried. You were always terrified of change, and school ending was an unavoidable one that had been looming over your head for a while until it snapped.

That day, you almost kissed him, your lips mere inches from his as he gripped your waist nervously, his eyes foolishly fluttering closed in anticipation.

But you pulled away, pushing him back with a whispered apology.

After that day, that habit Chan loved so much slowly faded away.

Chan hates how he has every curve of your body memorized, but rarely has the privilege of feeling you this close to him anymore.

You pull away abruptly, much like you did when you were eighteen, clearing your throat and entering his apartment without uttering a word.

Closing the door behind him, he joins you on the couch, where you sit nervously, bouncing your leg.

“What happened?” He asks, although deep down, he already knows the answer. Your only answer is a half-hearted shrug, so Chan hesitantly continues, “Is this about the wedding?”

He doesn’t miss the way your eyes well up, but you swiftly blink away any tears that threaten to spill over. Once again, Chan takes your dismissal of your own emotions as a sign for him to keep quiet.

Except this time, you don’t.

“Changbin asked to postpone the wedding,” you simply tell him.

A surge of anger washes over Chan like a tidal wave, pushing him to walk out of his apartment right now just to punch his friend in the jaw. You’re sad — Changbin made you sad. No matter how hard Chan tries or how much he sacrifices, moments like these always serve as a sour reminder that your happiness isn’t solely dependent on him.

He despises these moments.

“I feel like he’s so different. Even before proposing,” you murmur, lowering your head and focusing on your nails, nervously picking at your chipped nail polish. “We hardly ever go on dates and he never makes jokes or does silly shit to make me laugh anymore. I know it’s stupid and even a bit selfish, but I miss those things.”

You let out a heavy sigh and slowly looked up to meet Chan’s gaze. He silently wishes he could absorb all the hurt you feel.

“That’s the man that made me want to stay for six years, and he’s just… gone.”

Chan nervously gnaws on his bottom lip, as if that will consume the words in his throat before they slip out. But these words have been lingering on the tip of his tongue for over five months. Ever since you gathered your little friend group in your living room on a rainy Sunday evening, beaming as you and Changbin announced your engagement.

Tonight, these unspoken words finally escape his lips.

“Why did you accept the proposal, then?” He asks softly.

You let out a bitter scoff and sink lower into his couch.

“Guess I thought that man would magically come back the moment I said yes. But he didn’t,” you shake your head. “So I ignored it, assured myself he would come back once I said ‘I do’. Now, I’m not even sure…” You trail off, pursing your lips as the sentence dissipates into the air.

He remembers the early years of your relationship with Changbin. You would call Chan just to swoon over his charming personality and jokingly scold him for keeping your boyfriend at the gym until late at night. He recalls how you used to melt at his sweet gestures, like bringing you a cup of coffee after your shift or carrying you up to your apartment when you dozed off in the car. A few months ago, he noticed your avoidance whenever Changbin was brought up, and your usual long-winded stories about him were now replaced with short answers.

But he remained quiet, like he’d always done.

A few minutes pass before you speak again, and your words strike him like an unexpected left hook, knocking the air out of his lungs.

“I thought about ending things a lot,” you confess, “When I noticed this change wasn’t wavering, I was ready to leave.”

“But you didn’t,” Chan counters.

Your lips curl into a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes as you slowly nod. “But I didn’t,” you simply say. “I was afraid of what that would do to our friend group. It’s stupid, right?” You rhetorically ask.

When your gazes meet, your eyes are devoid of any emotion, a stark contrast to the usual spark he’s always loved. It’s as if you’ve abandoned any hope you had left inside of you, and his heart sinks.

“I didn’t want things to change because of me.”

Chan sighs. “You shouldn’t sacrifice your own happiness for the sake of others,” he tells you, and the irony isn’t lost on him. He inwardly grimaces, because isn’t that exactly what he has been doing for most of his life?

But it’s different, he rationalizes. It’s different because it’s you.

“You know me, Chan,” you huff out, wrapping your arms around yourself as frustration slowly consumes you. “I hate making people sad, hate knowing things are worse because of me.”

That’s just another of the many things Chan hates — how fucking similar you and he are.

“That’s why everybody says you shouldn’t date your friends, huh?” You let out a bitter scoff. “It never works out. Just fucks everything up.”

Chan bites down on his bottom lip so hard he swears he tastes blood on his tongue.

“That’s not always the case,” he’s quick to add. “Remember when Jun and Miyeon dated? They broke up and things were awkward for a while but—”

“They were together for a few months, Chan, not six years,” you interrupt him with a scowl. “If Changbin and I had broken up, our little group would’ve been just as affected as us. People would pick sides, try to place the blame on someone, and things would inevitably change.”

“Things are bound to change at some point,” he reasons. “We’re not in college anymore.”

Chan is certain there’s something more stopping you from ending your relationship, but he’s afraid you’re also unsure of that reason.

“I love Changbin,” you suddenly say, turning your body to face Chan. “This is stupid, I’m sorry I came here in the first place. He’s just stressed, he’s gonna come back one day—”

“Stop talking like that,” Chan cuts you off, voice louder than he intended. You slowly tilt your head to the side, eyeing him with confusion. “Stop talking like Changbin isn’t here, like he’s distant because he has no choice. He hasn’t gone anywhere. He’s still here, and he’s still distant.”

You divert your eyes, focusing on a spot behind Chan, making him wonder if he crossed a line. When the seconds tick by and you remain silent, he braces himself to watch you leave.

Instead, you whisper, “I know.”

“I would never treat you like this,” he absentmindedly says, his own eyes wandering aimlessly around his living room, looking anywhere but at you. If he tries hard enough, he can almost pretend that he isn’t saying these words to you, that he isn’t essentially confessing his repressed feelings to his best friend, who is already engaged. “Would never propose to you and have you plan the fucking wedding only to ask you to postpone it,” he lets out a scoff, his face contorting with disdain. “Fuck off. Postpone it? Changbin’s a coward.”

“I feel so alone,” you admit, seemingly ignoring his unprompted soliloquy. “You know I hate feeling alone. If I were to end things with Changbin now, after all these years, I know this loneliness would kill me.”

And you’re right; Chan knows better than anyone how much you hate feeling alone. Whenever your parents had to leave for business trips or vacations, you would seek refuge at his house to avoid being alone. When your roommate kicked you out of your dorm during university, you begged him to sleep with you in the study area so you wouldn’t be alone in the dark.

The thought of you spending your days alone in your apartment and sleeping by yourself at night makes Chan feel as if his heart is being trampled on.

“You’re not alone. I’m here,” he assures you, his eyes finally lifting to meet your gaze. “I’ve been here since we were kids, and I’m not going anywhere.”

A giggle suddenly escapes from your lips, and your hand rests on his arm. Your gaze shifts to where your fingers delicately trace patterns on the sleeve of his shirt.

“Remember when we were thirteen? We promised to get married if we were still alone when we were adults.”

Chan nods slowly, and an uneasy feeling washes over him. It’s been years since you’ve been this physically close to him, toying with the fabric of his shirt and saying words that foolishly make him think you might be flirting with him. Why must you bring this up now? Now, when you’re certainly not alone, but very much engaged to one of your mutual friends.

“I feel like every childhood friend makes that silly promise,” he tries to deflect, a forced chuckle leaving his lips. Nevertheless, the small smile on your lips lingers as you dismissively shrug at his words.

“It wasn’t silly to me,” you argue. “I meant it. Especially when I realized you were the only one who always stayed, even when everyone else seemed to leave me.”

He only now realizes how you’ve inched even closer to him, your foot softly brushing along his leg and your fingertips now delicately gliding along his arms, causing goosebumps to ripple across his skin. The small voice of reason inside his already clouded mind desperately urges him to back away, but his body refuses to move.

And then you gently intertwine your fingers with his and finally meet his eyes. Chan instinctively closes the small distance between you, his shoulder brushing against yours as you shift on the couch to throw your legs over his lap like you used to do when you were kids — except now, the gesture is anything but innocent, the air almost suffocating Chan with a looming sense of anticipation.

“Y’know, my mom was so happy when I told her I was dating Changbin,” you huff out a laugh at the memory, and Chan’s lips twitch into a small scowl. Although you speak as though this is news to him, he’s fully aware of what you’re referring to. He was sitting in your bedroom with you the day you told your mom. He knows what you’re alluding to, and he knows it’s wrong, but he finds himself simply nodding along to your words. “She was laughing about how scared she was that I would pick you. She was so sure we would end up together, and she hated it.”

It was never a secret how much your parents disliked Chan, although he never understood their reasons. Your mom always treated him with just enough feigned kindness that it wasn’t a glaring disdain, but you were quick to tell him all the things they would whisper behind his back.

Chan gently brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingertips then gliding along your face, tracing a path from the curve of your ear to your cheek. His eyes carefully follow his movements, and you suck in a breath, leaning into the touch.

“I also kind of hoped for that,” he mutters, barely audible.

“I’m so lonely, Chan,” you whisper back, and he feels every corner of his heart shatter into a million little pieces. The way your eyes glisten with unshed tears in the dim lighting of his living room finally has his resolve crumbling.

“You’re not alone,” he reiterates. “I’m here.”

Before he can stop himself, Chan closes the small distance between you and crashes his lips to yours. Just as guilt begins to course through his veins, you tug at his shirt, pulling him even closer until you ultimately climb onto his lap. Chan’s lips delicately brush against yours at first, but the kiss soon grows feverish. His hunger for you has been building inside of him for an eternity, and now that he’s finally tasted you, the all-consuming desire to have you overrides any remaining rationality in his mind.

His tongue glides along the seam of your lips before slipping into your mouth, and he all but growls at the feeling. Your fingers tighten their grip on his shirt, digging into the fabric while you let out the sweetest sound Chan has ever heard.

You slowly grind in his lap, and his hands grip your hips tightly, his cock twitching even at the soft movement. A surge of clarity washes over him, and he wonders how something this wrong can feel so good. Wonders why Changbin was lucky enough to have you like this whenever he wanted, while he was left to pine and yearn for years.

“What are we doing?” He asks between kisses, and you let out a shuddering sigh, shaking your head.

You whisper, “I don’t know. Just want you.”

A small part of Chan wants to push you away, knowing you’re simply seeking solace in him, desperately searching in him for what you no longer have with Changbin. But a bigger part of him has been yearning to have you for far too long to refuse your request.

He drowns out every faint whisper of reason in his head and slots his lips over yours once more, your soft moans traveling straight to his cock. Slipping your hands underneath his shirt, your palms raise toward his chest, nails lightly grazing his skin before trailing down the tense muscles of his abdomen. Chan whines when your fingertips brush against his clothed cock, already achingly hard in the confines of his pants. It was almost pitiful how effortlessly you made him desperate, his thoughts consumed with only you.

You break the kiss to pull down the straps of your dress, unhurriedly, eyeing him with a grin while he watches the thin fabric pool around your thighs.

“Y’know I always wondered what it’d be like,” you breathe out, and Chan’s lips fall open as you gently palm him through his sweatpants. “Always thought about what it’d feel like to have you fuck me.”

“Fuck,” he rasps out, cock swelling further in your hands when you squeeze his length. “Don’t say shit like that.”

You simply giggle, and Chan lets out a low groan, grinding his hips into your hand, desperately seeking more friction. He doesn’t want to think about the weight of that statement — not when your fingertips brush against his lower stomach, teasingly toying with the waistband of his sweatpants before finally pushing it down, gripping his cock in your hand. Chan hisses, his hold on your hips tightening while you glide your hand along his length, finding a slow, tantalizing rhythm as you begin to stroke him.

He feels as if his hands are tied by silent guilt, as if touching you any more will somehow make everything too real. But you press your lips to his like it’s second nature, swirling your tongue in his mouth just as your thumb swipes across his slit, gathering a drop of precum before smearing it down his shaft. It’s too much, and Chan groans into the kiss, finally allowing himself to touch you.

Carefully, his hands travel from your hips up to your stomach, caressing the soft skin. The way you feel underneath his fingertips has him drunk with lust, like a flood of long-awaited desire and longing finally being released.

“Touch me,” you whisper, words almost muffled by his lips. “Please.”

And Chan’s never been able to deny you.

His fingers skim over your breasts, trembling hands squeezing through the delicate lace of your bra. Your body eagerly responds to his touch, your nipples pebbling beneath his hands and a soft sigh falling from your lips. It feels like heaven to know that he’s the one coaxing these sounds out of you, and it’s enough to snuff out any trace of guilt Chan had remaining inside of him. As he pinches your nipples, rolling them gently between his fingertips, a surge of pleasure shoots through your body, making you jerk on his lap, your grip on his cock tightening.

Chan grins. “I thought about it too,” he admits, words softly whispered as he leans closer and presses his forehead against yours. “Thought about fucking you so much it almost drove me insane.”

These confessions are only half-surprising if Chan were completely honest with himself. He knew exactly where his mind wandered whenever you two got tangled up in his bed when you were teens, and he convinced himself you were the same. At that time, it was merely an attempt to alleviate the guilt he felt for having those thoughts about you.

But this confirmation was all he needed to truly surrender to his selfish hunger.

His hand slowly moves down your stomach, edging closer and closer to your panties. Your eyes remain locked on his, your heavy breathing brushing against his lips when his fingers tentatively slip beneath the soft fabric.

“Can I?” He whispers, and you nod, stroking him almost feverishly as your eyes become completely lust-clouded.

Chan’s fingers slide between your slick folds, a guttural moan reverberating through his chest, his cock twitching under your fingers.

“Holy shit, you’re soaking wet,” he groaned, his thumb softly pressing down on your clit, causing you to grind your hips into his hand.

“Chan,” you breathe out.

Your once deliberate strokes fizzled out into languid touches, but Chan couldn’t bring himself to care. Not when you were this fucking wet, all because of him.

“Tell me what you want,” he hums, pressing a small kiss to your open lips. He grins when your only response is a whine, rolling your hips forward once more. “Tell me.”

“Want you, Chan,” you choke out, “Want anything you wanna give me.”

Chan bites back a growl, slowly sliding a finger inside of you, your walls greedily clenching around it while your hips begin rocking in his lap, his thumb circling your clit. He can feel your arousal coating his finger, curling the digit before pulling away only to push back in again, two fingers now gently pumping in and out of you.

Pressing his lips to your throat, Chan grapples with the overwhelming need to mark you, bite and suck on your sensitive skin until it bloomed in hues of red and purple when you moaned so sweetly for him. The thought of Changbin coming home only to find you claimed by him had Chan groaning against the pulse of your neck, his cock throbbing in your hand just as your palm languidly circles the swollen head.

“Wanna make love to you,” he murmurs against your skin, leaving soft kisses up your throat until his lips are pressing against yours. Love — as if this was anything like love. “I need to,” he all but begs, and you hastily nod, tugging his shirt over his head and crashing your lips together.

Chan pushes your body down onto the couch, his heavy-lidded eyes dark like the shadows that covered his living room as he stares down at you. He’s wanted this for so long, dreaming and fantasizing about it to the point of pitifulness. Yet now, he hesitates. It’s almost as if everything else you have done tonight could be forgotten — maybe even forgiven — but the moment the images from his daydreams stumbled out into the real world, everything would truly be ruined.

“Chan,” your voice brings him back to the moment, his gaze softening at the way you looked up at him. “Don’t overthink this.”

He bends his face to yours, huffing out a breath. “It’s kinda hard not to.”

“Worry about tomorrow when tomorrow comes,” you whisper, and Chan smiles. He slides a hand through your hair, brushing a stray piece from your eyes.

His focus is quickly brought back to the scorching heat of his cock resting against your lower stomach, precum dripping from the tip and gathering on your skin. Gently brushing against your lower lip with the pad of his thumb, he fits himself between your open thighs, and you press a chaste kiss to his fingertip.

Chan effortlessly lifts you, blunt nails sinking into the soft skin of your ass as he watches you slide your panties down your thighs before he aligns your hips with his. He glides his cock along your folds, teasing your clit with each movement. The heat from your arousal coating him seems to sear into his skin, and he immerses himself in his desire even deeper. He carefully studies your features when you squeeze his shoulders, eyes tracing a slow path down your face, and Chan is certain he wouldn’t mind waging a war against every inconvenient obstacle that kept him from seeing that glint of bliss on your eyes every day.

His tip grazes your entrance as he pulls back, lips tracing along your skin before slowly pushing into you. As much as Chan wants to take his time, savor the experience and explore every inch of your body until it becomes seared into his memory, he knows he won’t be able to do that tonight. Years of yearning and longing finally came pouring out, consuming him with the want to selfishly chase this long-desired feeling.

When his hips meet yours, he takes your hand in his, guiding it to press on your lower abdomen. Your lips fall open slightly, the feeling of his cock pressing against your belly causing your eyes to flutter shut, and Chan’s arousal becomes almost unbearable. It was almost like a false testament, fooling him into believing you were finally one, even though it was nothing but a pretty lie.

“We’re a perfect fit. Shit,” Chan hisses, your inner muscles clenching around him at his words.

His thumb pressed firmly against your throbbing clit as he began rolling his hips, falling into a gentle and steady tempo. Your legs wrap around his body, hips rolling up and silently urging him to move faster, matching the rhythm of his unspoken longing. 

“Chan, please,” your voice chokes out. You intertwine your fingers together, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, eyes looking at him almost pleadingly. “Need you to fuck me.”

He snaps at your soft plea, pulling back and thrusting into you harshly, barely retreating from your wetness before plunging back in. Your nails dig into his skin, scoring lines down his chest while your other hand squeezes his. Chan winces at the sting but revels in the fact that you’re marking him — something he could only ever dream of doing to you.

He reluctantly lets go of your hand to firmly grasp your ass, forcefully lifting your hips to draw you even closer to him, fingernails etching crescent moons into your soft skin in an almost petulant attempt at claiming you as his. At least for tonight. Chan’s thumb rubs circles around your clit, bringing you closer to the edge of your orgasm. His grip on your skin tightens, pulling your body toward him almost desperately. His thrusts soon grow sloppy, his once deliberate rhythm long forgotten as his control quickly ebbs away.

“Got no idea what you do to me,” Chan grunts, pressing his forehead to yours. “If you were mine— fuck,” He hisses when you clench around him at his words — at the idea of being his. “I’d be so good to you. Fuck you like this every night.”

You attempt to call out his name, but the sound dies at your throat with a whine. Looking for purchase among his forceful thrusts, your hands travel up his chest and clutch at his shoulders with a tight grip.

“Then fuck me like I’m yours,” you choke out, hooking your ankles behind him to keep him as close to you as possible. Chan’s only response is a low, guttural growl, which is soon swallowed by your sighs as he crashes his lips into yours.

You arch your back, breaking the kiss with a cry, muscles tightening while Chan continues to plunge into you at a merciless rhythm. Your cunt throbs around his length, the relentless pressure of his finger on your clit sending shivers of euphoria through your entire body, drawing out your climax. Chan feels lightheaded, the beautiful sight of your orgasm enough to drive him to the edge.

As his cock twitches inside of you, he reluctantly leans back, rising to his knees and wrapping his fingers around his length, stroking himself over your body while you watch him with half-lidded eyes. A low sound rumbles within Chan’s chest as his hips jerk against his fist. His release spills from his cock and paints your stomach with milky streaks of his cum, finally marking you as his.

At least for tonight.

Even though it’s nothing but a pretty lie.

As you wake up, the unfamiliar sensation of sunlight streaming through the window hits your tired eyes. Panic washes over you for a beat as you take in the feeling of an unfamiliar bed, but a familiar scent soon envelops you, instantly soothing you. Not waking up alone also feels unfamiliar, but it’s a welcomed unfamiliarity. You turn your body towards the person next to you, and you’re greeted by Chan, peacefully asleep with a small smile on his lips. A grin slowly spreads across your face too.

It had been so long since you were this close to him, even longer since you woke up beside him. Sleepovers were common during your childhood, but they naturally stopped as you grew older. You were nineteen the last time you lied next to Chan like this, drunk on cheap beer and cramped next to him on a worn-out couch of some fraternity house. You remember how his chest slowly rising and falling somehow felt like home, and how his soft snores lulled you into sleep.

Your love for Chan has always been greater than you’ve let on.

Your vicious need to please those around you hindered your ability to express how much you loved him. Your parents hated him since you were fifteen. Catching Chan smoking with a group of boys from your school behind the mall cemented their opinion of him. Despite his ‘bad influence’, they reluctantly allowed your friendship to continue, with the condition that you wouldn’t be swayed by his bad ways.

If only they knew what you did last night.

If only they knew how you were the one to incite him, letting your own bad ways tarnish him.

As your eyes flutter closed, memories of the night before flood your mind; Chan’s hands on your body, his hungry kisses, and the way he fucked you until you felt intoxicated. But the feeling of bliss swirling in your chest quickly dissipates, replaced by the weight of guilt, crushing your ribs and knocking the air from your lungs. Your eyes snap open, and you sit up on the bed with a shuddering sigh. Even the feeling of Chan’s clothes clinging to your body makes you feel dirty.

Beside you, Chan groans, your sudden movements having disturbed his sleep.

“What time is it?” He rasps out. The sound of his voice alone nearly makes you flinch. As his fingertips graze your arm, you instinctively withdraw as if his touch scorched your skin. Chan sits up as well. “What’s wrong?”

You almost scoff at his words.

“Nothing,” you lie, throwing the covers off your body. You frantically search his bedroom until your eyes land on your dress draped over a chair.

You take off Chan’s shirt in haste, spitefully throwing the fabric on the floor as though it embodied your every sin. As if removing it from your body would somehow absolve you from what you chose to do last night. Just as you reach to undo the drawstrings of his sweatpants, his touch lingers on your skin again. You can’t help but flinch once more.

“Hey, calm down. Please, talk to me,” Chan’s soft voice only intensifies the anguish in your chest.

“Don’t touch me,” you mumble, tears gathering in your eyes as remorse gathers in your throat until it feels as if you’re suffocating. Chan removes his hands from your arm but remains beside you. “What the fuck did we do? We betrayed his trust, we betrayed…” you trail off, because you can’t even bring yourself to say Changbin’s name out loud. Finally, you turn to face Chan, shaking your head in disbelief. “He’s our friend. He’s my fucking fiancé.”

Chan stays silent. Tears stream out of your eyes, cascading down your cheeks and onto the floor. Your shoulders tremble, and each breath you take cannot fill your lungs enough to ease the weight on your chest. Chan stands in front of you, his tear-filled eyes mirroring his own heartbreak, evident in every corner of his face. He reaches out to you several times, but his hands only clench into fists and drop by his sides every time.

He helplessly watches as your tears fall over something that was a choice. A momentary bliss, a whim that has proven to be unnecessary, even though your feelings for Chan have always gone beyond platonic. How you wish you could go back in time and prioritize your own happiness instead of constantly sacrificing it for the sake of others. But you can’t, and the once beautiful love you had for Chan now only feels tainted.

He watches you silently, unmoving until you finally swallow enough tears to choke out, “Please hold me.”

And Chan does, cold hands wrapping around your trembling body as fresh tears pour out of your eyes, cascade down your cheeks and onto his shirt.

  You cry the entire afternoon, guilt becoming a ghost that haunts you as you pad around Chan’s apartment. Yet you can’t bring yourself to leave his side. Soon, his clothes stopped feeling like a vice tightening around your neck and transformed into a soothing embrace.

The only words you exchange are over cold leftover pizza. Chan says it’s best to just pretend the previous night never even happened. You’re quick to tell him you don’t want that.

“It was a mistake,” he quietly told you.

“It was a choice,” you corrected him. “And I’m happy I did it.”

And that’s the worst part of it all; you don’t regret having sex with Chan. You regret the cheating, the pain this would cause Changbin if he knew, and you especially dread the scrutiny you would face if people were to find out. But not even for a second do you feel any regret about Chan.

Before you know it, it’s already dark out. You find yourself staring out the window, pulling at the hem of Chan’s shirt that still hugs your frame.

You don’t want to go back home.

Four messages from Changbin apologizing for not coming home last night greet you every time you unlock your phone.

Changbin: hey baby, sorry Changbin: there was a huge fight at the bar, seungmin was bloody on the floor before i knew it Changbin: had to stay and take care of him after i took him home Changbin: i’m so sorry. i’ll make it up to you. love you

You ignore them every time. You don’t feel bad about it.

“I don’t wanna go back home,” you mumble to yourself. Behind you, Chan hums softly.

It feels like an eternity before he finally breaks the silence.

“Then don’t go.”

So you don’t.

Time slips away from your hands, and suddenly a week has gone by. You stay at Chan’s apartment, working from his computer, eating his food, and wearing his clothes. He makes love to you and you sleep in his bed every night.

You avoid every mirror and close every curtain as if that will shield you from your sins.

For so much time, it felt as if you were crawling through endless days, constantly brushing aside the things that upset you, things you fruitlessly wished you could change. All while forcing a smile that long stopped being sincere. This week, your smile was tightly bound to a warmth in your heart that had been absent for far too long.

Cooped up inside Chan’s apartment like a fugitive from your own mistakes, you were finally happy.

You have always lived a life driven by the desire to please others. From the university you attended to the man you chose to be with; everything was carefully thought out to ensure the happiness of those around you. Was it a wonder you were so soulless?

Is it a wonder you found bliss in doing something so selfish for the first time in your life? Every time Chan touched you, it was like a small light was ignited inside you.

Changbin’s messages sat unread in your phone; the only ones he sent you the entire week. 

  You chose to return home the day your mother called you to ask about the wedding. Chan drove you in silence while you clutched his hand.

As soon as you step into your apartment, it’s as if all the light Chan brought back into your life the past week is snuffed out. You glance around the dark living room, your eyes then traveling toward your bedroom, only being met by more darkness. Seems your fiancé still hasn’t come back.

Changbin going to that bar was the catalyst for your spiral of mistakes. He’s often gone to bars, and you never thought much of it, until he started prioritizing his time with his friends over time with you. That night, you had asked him to stay in for a change, suggesting you could watch a movie and order too much food like you used to do when you first moved in together. He said he would love that, but that night was really important. Apparently, Jisung needed help chatting up the bartender, and that was crucial in his road to getting over his ex. Apparently, that was more important than spending time with you.

You were arguing before you knew it. Although you did most of the talking, so it felt more like a helpless monologue than a proper fight. Changbin hated fights, and had mastered the art of dismissing things and never addressing them again. He was out the door right after nonchalantly asking you to postpone the wedding.

“I’m not in the right headspace to deal with shit like that now,” he’d said, and you scoffed at how he referred to your wedding.

“Flower arrangements, color schemes, guest lists… I’d rather do anything else but that right now. My friends need me,” Changbin continued after you remained silent, because you knew you would only end up arguing with him again if you were to speak. He spoke as if you didn’t need him.

“Jisung is finally taking the steps to get over that shitty ex of his and you know Chan can’t run the gym without me,” were the last words he muttered before pressing a kiss to your forehead and leaving you alone for yet another night.

The mention of his name was all it took for you to run out the door and into Chan’s apartment.

After dragging yourself toward your bathroom for a quick shower, you berate yourself for feeling disappointed in the feeling of your own pajamas against your skin. After a week of being enveloped in Chan’s scent, the smell of your clothes seems almost foreign.

Even as you lie in bed, it somehow feels even colder now than it did during all the countless nights when you were alone. Just as you had grown used to the empty space beside you, it now feels wrong not to feel the warmth of Chan’s body pressed up against yours.

You shudder at that thought.

It wasn’t just anyone you missed in your bed. It was Chan.

In a way, it had always been him.

As you drift off to sleep, the sudden shifting of the mattress jolts you awake. Changbin is home. You inwardly curse yourself, as you won’t be able to feign sleep after being startled by his presence. He chuckles softly, slipping under the covers and pulling you close, a strong arm tightly wrapping around your waist. The dim light of your bedroom hides your grimace as he pulls your body flush against his, but you can’t help but flinch.

It feels wrong.

Just as much as Chan’s body had felt perfectly aligned with yours, Changbin’s mere presence feels out of place.

“Didn’t mean to scare you, babe,” Changbin apologizes, planting a gentle kiss on your shoulder. You mindlessly nod. “Though I’m glad you’re awake. I missed you.”

His soft kisses soon travel up the column of your throat, and you bite the inside of your cheek. Changbin effortlessly moves your body so you’re lying on your back, a soft smile playing on his lips as he leans in to kiss you.

And it feels wrong.

His tongue swipes against your lower lip, soon pushing against yours, and his taste has you clutching your fists. He slots himself between your thighs like he’s done countless times, and the weight of his body on top of you has your face twisting into a scowl. He slips a hand underneath your shirt, and the feeling of his calloused fingers across your skin has you instinctively pushing him away.

Changbin looks stunned for a beat, but his lips soon curl into a playful grin.

“Not in the mood?” He simply asks, and it makes you want to cry.

Because Changbin has always been the perfect man. He was gentle, never demanding, and always so caring to you. Even after his sudden change, his only flaw was how distant he’s become.

He is completely unaware of how you callously hurt him in the worst way possible, and the weight of that realization erases any urge you had to cry. You don’t deserve that relief.

After pressing a quick kiss to your forehead, Changbin sits up on the bed. You remain motionless, focusing on how the moonlight casts shadows on the ceiling instead of how your heart twists painfully inside your chest. You only break out of this trance once he hums beside you.

“Your mom called,” he tells you, his fingers swiping across his phone screen when you face him. “Forgot to tell you. I had to tell her we chose to postpone the wedding,” he chuckles casually, and you tightly clutch the covers.

Fuck.

“I didn’t wanna tell her yet, but…” you trail off with a shaky sigh. “I guess it’s okay.”

Changbin shrugs dismissively. “Yeah, she told me you avoided the topic when she called you. She was upset, though I don’t get it,” he scoffs. “We’re still getting married, just not now.”

Those words are enough to have your heart shatter completely.

Sadly, the happiness your selfishness brought you that week is nothing compared to the sorrow that envelops you for disappointing your mother.

Chan gave you the space he knew you needed.

Even though you gave him the happiest six days of his entire bleak existence only to leave him alone and wondering, he gave you space.

The way he forgot about everything else during those days with you was almost like a fantasy. Inside the little atmosphere you created, it was just the two of you and the love he had kept hidden for so long. He needed nothing more.

And then you left, and he gave you space.

Until the days turned into weeks, and he watched as two months slipped through his fingers like sand. Even though Changbin hadn’t visited the gym in over three months, Chan’s heart still clung to the hope that he would show up, longing for the chance to ask about you. He also hoped you’d reach out, even if it meant you’d ignore everything that happened in your little world and simply talk about the weather.

Every day, his hopes are shattered into a million little pieces.

He’d take anything over your silence. He would take you as a friend over as a familiar stranger in a heartbeat, would take his heart being broken over not having you at all. He endured that for over a decade, and he would happily ruin himself for you every single day.

And so Chan finds himself knocking at your door, his shirt clinging to his chest after a relentless afternoon of punching the sandbag in his office, futilely hoping to escape thoughts of you. He eventually walked out of the gym, heart pounding in his chest as he sprinted to your apartment as if he was scared you would disappear. Because he was.

As you slowly open the door, he finally stands before you. Your eyes widen as you take in his appearance — his ruddy cheeks, labored breath, and shaky hands that fumble to fix his disheveled hair. But Chan swears you’re the sole culprit for his heart hammering against his ribcage.

“What are you—”

“I want you to pretend it never happened,” he exasperates, “Pretend we never said anything, never did anything, just pretend. We can pretend together, I don’t care. Just don’t cut me out of your life like this.”

“Chan,” you murmur, pursing your lips before continuing. “I don’t… I don’t understand.”

“You said you didn’t wanna pretend that nothing happened between us. You said that,” he argues, trying but ultimately failing his attempt at keeping his voice down.

Chan feels as if his mind is unraveling. Every emotion he kept nestled inside his chest for years had finally spilled out the moment your lips touched his, and trying to bury this love again felt like a cruel punishment.

“Back in my apartment, I told you we should just pretend nothing happened, but you…” his voice dissipates into a sigh, the words dying at his throat, replaced by a lump that swelled in his throat.

He feels pathetic, adverting his gaze simply to blink away the tears that have gathered in his lashes. But when he turns to look at you again, your eyes are already pouring.

“I’m sorry,” you bawl, fingers gripping the doorframe until your knuckles turn white. “Chan, I’m so fucking sorry, but I can’t do this.”

Chan gnaws on his bottom lip, his eyes fixed on you as you turn and walk away, leaving him alone by your door. As he watches your figure disappear into the hallway, he realizes he cannot bear the agony of only helplessly watching you any longer.

“You said you were happy,” he yells out, following after you like a phantom you carelessly disregard. The sound of his voice echoes behind you, ignored as you enter the kitchen and resume drying plates and cutlery. Chan continues, “You started it. You chose to cross that line, chose to stay, chose to keep letting me make love to you every damn night—”

You drop a plate on the counter with a scowl, the delicate porcelain chipping at the edge. “Love?” You scoff bitterly at Chan, shaking your head. “That wasn’t love. That was a mistake.”

“That’s not what you said,” Chan retorts, and your eyes soften. He breathes out a heavy sigh. At this point, he knows he’s gone beyond desperation. He still continues, “Tell me you weren’t happy.”

“Chan…”

“Tell me,” he insists. “Tell me and I’ll gladly pretend with you.”

“I was scared!” You blurt out, “That week with you was the happiest I had been in so long, and it terrified me. But maybe that’s love, huh? Being selfish, putting myself before everyone else and acting like a fucking teenager. That’s surely love,” you scoff, words dripping with sarcasm.

A heavy silence falls between you. Chan is back in that familiar place, watching you engage in a silent battle within yourself, distant eyes almost boring holes into the chipped plate in your hands. Deep inside, he knows you’re right. It is selfish to want you to abandon everything you built for a dormant love you both buried so long ago.

But maybe being selfish is exactly what you both need. Maybe love isn’t selflessness, maybe it’s the complete opposite.

“Maybe that’s the love we deserve,” Chan breaks the deafening silence, carefully stepping closer to you. “After all these years of stupidly sacrificing our own happiness, maybe selfish love is the kind of love we need.”

But you remain silent. Your eyes wander around, almost as if you’re taking in the life that reflects the choices you’ve made. The walls of your hallway, adorned with polaroid pictures telling your story with Changbin, from just friends to the night of your engagement. Your fridge, where colorful magnets hold up little notes from Changbin, filled with sweet nothings and inside jokes. Chan notices the date on the most recent one, realizing it was over seven months ago.

As the minutes tick by, Chan braces himself for your words. He’s ready to be called insane, for you to yell and rightfully reject any notion of continuing your friendship. He knows there’s no going back to the way things were. That possibility died the moment you stepped into his apartment that fateful night.

Instead, you gaze up at him and whisper four words that leave him completely stunned.

“Run away with me.”

And Chan’s never been able to deny you.

Before you two can even make sense of anything, you’re already in your bedroom. Chan packs your bags while you kneel beside your bed, hastily jotting down words on a piece of paper. Your sudden giggle has him biting back a smile that blossoms on his face when you wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him into a deep kiss. He sighs into your lips. Your love was unearthed, dirty and tainted, but still breathing. It was sinful and borderline cataclysmic, but it was yours.

Since you were both ten years old, it has always been yours.

Your letter to Changbin hangs alongside the love notes he’d left for you over the years; selfish words nestled between sincere ones.

Inside his car, Chan’s hand intertwines with yours, and he watches your lips curl into a smile that finally reaches your eyes. It’s the first time he’s seen that expression grace your face in years.

And Chan’s emotions mirrored your own, so he made it his mission to make that happiness everlasting.

Even if it was through a selfish love.

♡ taglist: @bloom-ings, @linocz, @farahia, @mirbokk, @jisunglyricist, @jazziwritesthings, @seungseung-minmin, @yourcvndx, @hynjinnnnnnnie, @vlctorriaa, @redstayrosie, @binniesbabygirl, @pynchkilledme, @chansbabygirlsstuff, @pheonixfire777, @yongbokkiesworld, @kiensecent

[deadghosy]

slytherin boys with a reader who sings really well please please please and thanks!!

✭ִ*ੈ✩‧₊˚♫

𝐒𝐥𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐬/𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥

A/N: I did something similar if you wanna check it out! Here’s the link to it, enjoy!

Draco Malfoy

Immediately when you sang, he wanted you to only sing to him

GATEKEEP KING 🗣️‼️😭

Literally gatekeeps your singing because your singing voice is a beauty that makes him feel so calm

Oh? You want to be a singer. Bet.

He already paid a lot of money so you can have a stage

Mattheo Riddle

“MY GF IS BETTER THAN YOUR GIRLFRIEND”

This bastard is yelling with all his heart that you are amazing

Doesn’t matter if you aren’t a singer or is.

He’s immediately making sure you are known for your damned talent and beauty

W boyfriend if you can say

Theodore Nott

Would dead ass make you sing at his birthday

Doesn’t careee. Sing.

He makes its know that you could be a singer

And if you are a singer, then damn! He’s buying every album and disk you have of your music

He’s your top supporter

Lorenzo Berkshire

He loves hearing you sing

And he’s hella glad he bagged a person like you

That means you can sing him to sleep! Yippe!

Definitely flexes to his friend that his gf is a singer

What’s that? Your girlfriend is a talente— “HAVE YOU HEARD MY GF SING??” Immediately is being loud and bold

[spidybaby]

Forgive you, for what?

Summary: After the release of your new song, people start to make rumors about your relationship, making Gavi feel uncomfortable. (Singer!Reader)

Warnings: cursing, mentions of sexy time, implications of cheating.

Face Claim: Emilia Mernes

"Pablo, don't do that." You say, laughing at him hitting your hand away. Making you almost trop the PS5 controller.

You two were playing fifa. He taught you how to play it, and now he loves that you got to be able to beat him on the game.

"I swear to God, princesa." He laughs when you imitate him hitting your hands. "If you win I'm unfollowing you on insta."

Just as he says that, you score the winner goal of the game. You jump happy, laughing at how he sucks and you are the one and only winner.

He grabs you by the waist, pulling you down to lay on top of him. You laugh at him. Arms behind his neck and lips on his face.

You were careful with him, especially after his injury.

"I beat you." You laugh. Kissing his lips.

He loves these moments with you. Just you and him enjoying the company of each other and not thinking about work and all the responsibilities.

You love how his demeanor changed since the injury. You felt your heart being ripped off when you saw him get injured on the field.

With your help and this family, it was a hard way but he made it. You were so proud of him. He loved his progress as much as you loved to see him renewed and fresh.

"Let's cook something, you need to take your vitamins with food." You kiss his nose, making him scrunch it. "C'mon, mi amorcito."

He hugs you tightly, kissing your cheeks. He loves how shy and red you get when he focus his attention on your cheeks.

"I want a picture with you to remember how happy we are. Put on your shades." You reach over your phone and to where his shades were. Putting them on his face. "Di quesoooo." You smile at the camera.

"Quesoooo" He repeats. Laughing after a few pictures. You kiss his face while taking a few more. "Are you posting me on social media?" He asks, pretending to be serious.

"Why you care?" You follow his game. "You are going to unfollow me." You stick your tongue out for him.

"Maybe an appreciation post will make me follow you again." He jokes. Getting up from the couch and pulling you lightly. "Let's make Mac and cheese." He begs.

You nod, asking him to take the things you'll use. You grab your phone and choose a picture to post on your insta story.

Yourusername has added to close friends

You tagged him, even when the boy only goes on insta to repost something from the barca profile. And even when he can't repost it.

"Princesa, everything's ready." He calls you from the kitchen. "Ven, mi amor."

You smile, loving how he always picks the right way to call you and melt you from love at the same time.

🌸🌸🌸

"Perdonarte, para qué?

Para que vuelvas a fallarme otra vez?

No muchas gracias, ese chiste ya no me hace gracia."

You sing the lyrics to your new song that you have been working on with the Mexican group Los Angeles Azules.

You loved them since you were a child, and for you to be singing and filming a music video with them is a dream come true.

"You look amazing." The lead singer of the group tells you. "We heard your album when it got out and now on our way here to be able to get your energy."

"That's so sweet." You smile, hugging him. "My mom is going crazy about me being here with you. She's a big fan. We are."

You talk with all of them a little bit. Joking while filming. It was all so fun for you and to them too.

"Okay, take three. Y/n, from the beginning."

"Get over me, forget me

And think that it was just a dream what you lived with me

Get it together

There won't be any more pages of the best story you've read

With that, I say goodbye

Please, better not call me

I don't even want you as a friend

Forgive you, for what?

For you to fail me again?

No, thank you very much

That joke is not funny anymore." You sing the song while the music is playing over it.

Yourusername

Liked by pablogavi, angelesazulesmx and 2,573,837 others

Yourusername can't wait for this to be out. See you tomorrow ❤️💋

View all 98,472 comments

angelesazulesmx 🤩🤩🤩

pablogavi ❤️

"Can you please tell me what this secret project is about?" Pablo begs. "Mi amor, I'm nosy." He pouts.

"I know, precioso." You laugh. "But I want you to see it the day it comes out and tell me your real reaction to it."

"I can do that right now." He pouts again.

"No, papi." You shake your head no. "That's not going to happen."

He understood your motives, you always show him your projects before hearing them, except the ones you want him to feel in real time.

"Hey, why did you unfollow me on insta?" You jokingly yell at him. "Amor, why?" You laugh.

"I told you I would." He laughs. "I did, I go by my word."

You talk with him for a little while. Packing your things to go back to Spain to practice for your tour leg in Europe.

"Did you tell her, Pablo?" You hear Aurora in the back of the call.

"Si." He shouts. "Amor, Aurora wants you to have lunch with her as soon as you land in Barcelona. Because she's leaving to Sevilla."

"Yes, tell Aurorita that I want that."

"I'll text you." Aurora yells again.

You laugh at her. You love his family, and you are very thankful that they love you back. It was a big piece in your relationship. The approval and love of your families.

"I have to go, I need to finish packing." You say as your phone pulls the notification of low battery. "Te amo, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Wait, don't come here, I'll come to you." He mentions quickly. "When are you landing?"

"I think at like 2 p.m." You say with doubt. "I'll text you when Aurora and I are done."

"Vale, te amo."

"Te amo más, see you soon, papi."

"See you soon, mami." He blows a kiss to you.

🌸🌸🌸

The song is out, and the Spanish press is making a huge deal out of it.

holacom

Liked by 24,574

holacom International singer Y/n released her new song in collaboration with Los Angeles Azules, a Mexican cumbian group, the song "Forgive you, for what?" became number one in multiple countries.

Fans are wondering if this new title has to do with Gavi, number six on the Barça first team, unfollowing her and about previous cheating rumors from the footballer.

(📸 @yourusername and @pablogavi)

Pablo hates when the media makes up rumors about you, and he definitely hates when they make rumors about your relationship.

When he heard the song, he never thought it was about you two or any situation that you two went through.

He was loyal to you. He can't be with anyone else when he has everything he ever wanted with you.

"Please, mi amor. Answer your phone." He tries one more time to FaceTime you. When the call goes to nothing. He feels frustrated. "Rora, please try one more time." He begs.

Aurora does. She tried to text you all morning, but the last text she got from you was before your plane took over. That was more than 15 hours ago.

"Nothing." She sighs, seeing his brother lose his mind over the tabloids. "Pablo, there has to be a reason. She won't just not answer you."

She feels cursed. Just when Pablo was relaxing, a notification popped up on his phone. You posted an instagram post.

yourusername

Liked by angelesazulesmx, mariabecerra and 5,485,486 others

Yourusername Gracias! I want to thank all of you for your amazing support and love to Perdonarte, para qué? (Forgive you, for what?)

Thank you so much to Los Angeles Azules and to everybody who worked hard to be able to make this possible. Forever in my heart ❤️

View all 290,721 comments

pablogavisgirl pls don't tell me this is about Gavi😭😭😭

y/nfan1 love the song but pls tell us this isn't a confirmation of the rumors of Gavi cheating on you

gavihater1 happy you finally realized he was not worthy and that you are too much for him anyway

His face drop, why weren't you answering him but you were posting?

He wants to yell, he wants to throw his phone to the wall and pretend this shitshow isn't happening.

"I need to be alone for a moment." He excuses himself to his sister.

But in the United States airport, you were locked in a room with no phone and no way of communicating to anyone.

"How much until she can leave?" You manager asks the immigration guy. "This is ridiculous. She's a singer, and her visa is only a day into the six months rule."

"Ma'am I don't make the rules. But this is my job, and I can't just let her break the law just cause she is a singer."

"I know, I'm not asking you to break anything. I'm just telling you that it's been seven hours since we landed here. We already told you and showed you proof that this is just a connection flight."

You were mad. You were supposed to be in the United States for only an hour and you already spent seven hours while the immigration officer confirmed the story that you were a singer and your trip to Barcelona was with working purposes.

All because your visa was one day into the six months limit where you can't fly. That was an honest mistake from your manager, you can't blame her.

"Can I at least have some food?" You ask the police who was with you in the room. "Please."

He ignores you. You were mad, you were just passing by, not like you were colonizing their land.

"Okay, you are free to go." The same immigration dude came to open the door for you. "Good luck at your concert."

You didn't even flash a smile. You wanted to give him a piece of your mind, but you weren't. "Good night." You say.

You hug your manager. Telling her how tired you were and how you needed food and a long sleep.

"You'll have seven hours to do that." She walks with you. "I got us a private jet, no more stupid commercial flights."

"And good thing is that your song is number one on the charts." Your assistant tells you. "And I posted a thank you to Los Angeles Azules and to your fans."

You don't even have the energy to care about a post or anything. "My phone is dead." You mention. "I was on like 10% before they took me in"

You walk to a coffee shop, getting something to drink while your assistant got you something to eat.

"Here." She hands you the food. "And your phone is charging. Here." She left the phone with the power bank attached.

You calmly eat while watching a movie. When you have more energy to finally do more than just be a potato, you pick your phone.

Your eyes widen at the sight of all the missing calls from Pablo, Aurora and your friends. "I have to call Pablo." You say.

"No." Your manager snatchs your phone off your hands. "You need sleep, Pablo is probably worry and that's okay, but sleep."

She didn't want you to find out about the drama the tabloids are doing. She wants you to get to Barcelona with at least a little energy and then deal with it.

y/n.hq

Liked by aurorapaezg, antonellaroccuzzo and other 1,472,380 others

y/n.hq three randoms. One you'll understand later, one listening to Perdonarte, para qué? and one before our plane took out to Barcelona, where the new leg of the tour began.

View all 34,572 comments

gavihater2 love how you are ignoring everything about that excuse of a player

y/nfan2 amore, please tell us you and Gavi aren't done 😭😭😭

_ferminlopez can I get free tickets?

bcnboyslover FERMIN NOT YOU HERE 😭

gavilover34 baby you can afford them

gaviandy/nlover is this the way they tell us everything is fine and they're still together? Fermin?

"C'mon Pablo, please pick up." You try one more time. "Papi, I need you. Answer" You whisper, nervous about the whole drama that the media pulled.

When you landed in Barcelona, it was 11 pm. So you needed your bed and a pill to be able to sleep all night.

The repercussions came when you woke up to your friends blowing your phone with questions about Gavi, Aurora asking you if you were okay and to call her and the worst.

Pablo texting you that he was hurt that you weren't answering, you were just letting the fire get to him about something you denied him access. And asking you if that was your plan for the beginning.

You called Aurora, who was in Sevilla at that point. You explained to her what happened, and she understood your tired state. Not blaming you for what you did as soon as you landed.

She texted Pablo, asking him to let you explain yourself, how you wouldn't do what he thinks you did.

But you weren't going to wait until his mad state is over. You needed to talk to him face to face, and even if he didn't want it to, you do.

You open the door of his house with your spare key. "Pablo!" You yell for him to hear that it was you. "Pablo Martín!" You yell again.

You walk to his kitchen, nothing. The living room, nothing. His room, nothing again.

You were nervous, he wasn't there. You pase around thinking where he was. Was he with Fermin? Was he with Pedri? At one of la masia boys? Where?

You were so into your mind that you don't hear the front door being open or the steps coming to the bedroom.

But you do scream when the door is fully open in a quick motion. Making Pablo jump scared. "Por la puta, qué mierda?" He asks, hand on his heart.

"Pablo!" You say happy, hugging him and kissing his face. His hands are on your sides, not really hugging you, more like keeping you steady. "Mi amor, I'm sorry about not being able to answer. I was trapped and I wasn't able to take my flight."

"Y por qué si pudiste subir fotos?" He asks, pushing you away from him. "Hmm?" (And why did you have time to post?)

"I didn't, papi, that was my assistant." You try to explain. "Papi, I would never do anything to hurt you."

"Well, you did." He walks into the bathroom, ignoring you while taking his clothes off. Ready to take a shower.

"Pablo, please!"

He got into the shower, not caring that you were there. Nothing you haven't seen before, so you walked into the bathroom.

You open the glass door. Water slashing all over your shoes and legs. "Pablo, I'm not going anywhere."

"Entonces quédate ahí." (Then stay there) he continued with hos shower routine without a care in the world.

You close the door. Removing your shoes and clothes, except for your underwear. You weren't giving up just like that.

"Mira, Pablo." You grab his shoulders, hands removing the foam from his forehead to he could see you. "I was forced to stay at a freaking two meters office with a very mean police dude in New York." You explain.

He pays attention, even though he doesn't want to, he respects you enough to hear you.

"I was tired, I was jet lagged, I was hungry and thirsty, but I couldn't even move without the dude reaching for his taser."

You feel your eyes watering. You were stressed. The song was supposed to be something good. You with your favorite cumbia group, doing a Spanish language song after two English albums. Not this mess.

"I was tired." You cry. "And I wanted my boyfriend to understand. But he is too busy playing the hurt one when he knows I would never be the type to leave him with a song. Especially after talking to him on the phone and saying I love you."

You back away from him. Letting him see you discomfort. He felt bad, all that anger, and the words he sent you over text weren't even reasonable. You were right.

"I'm sorry." You say. "I should have asked my assistant to text you something to let you know I was okay. I'm I haven't been able to clean your name from the drama. I just want us to be okay. Is that possible?"

He nods, and you hug him carefully. Not wanting to take a bad step and slip I to the shower.

"Te amo, please don't ever think I don't." You say. "And if I don't contact you after a flight, please know it's because I was: a, put into custody of the immigration department. b, probably death asleep. And c, maybe in the air with no phone battery."

You make him laugh, the sound of it being the only thing you needed.

"Te amo, princesa." He kisses your forehead. "I was an insecure person, and I'm sorry about it. I'm sorry about that text. Maybe all the shit did got to my head."

"Then let's wash it off." You interrupt him, joking about his hair having shampoo and foam. "It's okay, I get insecure too. And just like you do, I'll be here to make you not feel like it." You kiss him. You quickly pull away. "Maybe let's take this shampoo off of you, it taste terrible."

He laughs, pulling you a little to the water falling. "What if you let me help you shower that tension away?" He asks, kissing your neck.

"Your injury." You remind him.

"Don't worry, I have my hands to do the work for me." He smirks, hands traveling to the elastic of your panties. "I love you."

"Really?" You ask, breathlessly. You kiss him. Your hands reach for the lock on your bra, undoing it. "Show me." You say, taking the remaining clothes off.

yourusername

Liked by aurorapaezg, pablogavi, _ferminlopez and 6,483,382 others

yourusername a little appreciation post for this amazing boy, who also happens to be my boyfriend and one of my biggest supporters.

I love you to the moon and back. Thank you for everything, Pablo ❤️ You are the 6 on the pitch, but the 1 in my heart 🌸✨️❤️

View all 568,448 comments

aurorapaezg los amo mucho ❤️

yourusername te amamos ❤️✨️

pablogavi I love you, my one 🌸✨️❤️

gavifan1 AHHH HE'S USING HER EMOJIS😭❤️

gadrilover he calls her my one 🥺🥺🥺

_ferminlopez romantic much?

_ferminlopez so about those free tickets 😗

yourusername no ❤️

pablogavi 🤣🤣🤣

_ferminlopez @yourusername wow 👌🏻

[zepskies]

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGdFgGL1y/

I’ve been loving this trend and then realised this could literally bmd Ben and reader asking him to show how he would’ve moved to her in the 80s and even better cause he literally experienced it, I can see him being unwilling to entertain but slowly caving in when he sees she’s not breaking and giving him attention until he tries

LOL that's adorable. 😂 Thanks for thinking of Break Me Down (Soldier Boy x Reader)! Seems to be a theme this week lol! I went ahead and watched that TikTok and again it got me imaging the thing...

Imagine Soldier Boy (Ben) "Sliding Up" to You in the Club

I can imagine that coming up in conversation if the reader in BMD was being subjected to watching another one of his music videos. She'd be teasing him, of course, but he'd be defending himself and his career choices. It was the 80s!

And for your information, Ben says, women were fucking falling over themselves to have him sign their Rapture albums. It was frankly irritating when he went out. Sometimes, he just wanted to relax with a smoke and a glass of bourbon at the club. You scoff at that one.

He looks amused. "What, you think you would've been the only girl in America who didn't cream their panties when I showed up?"

You shoot him a wry brow raise. Do you have to remind him how you two met? Being tied to a chair with zip ties comes to mind.

But then, something else occurs to you. The first time you and Ben actually met was in a smokey club in Medellin, Colombia. You'd been "undercover" then, and though you hadn't danced with him, it makes you think...

"Okay, let's say we're at the club," you pose, with a sly smile. "It's 1983..."

You find the song "Too Shy" on your phone; quintessential 80s pop. The smooth riffs start playing. You get up to start vibing near him in the comfort of your living room. You're just swaying side to side with a little sensuous, playful bounce to your step, your hand movements simple.

Ben doesn't want to smile, but you're making it difficult as he lounges half across the couch.

"Come on. How would you slide up on me?" you taunt.

He arches a brow. "Slide?"

"You know what I mean. What was your move, huh?" you ask, teasing him with the curve of your ass and the sway of your hips in your yoga pants.

You saunter closer to him, beckoning him over to you. All the while you sing to yourself, "Too shy, shyyyy. Hush, hush, eye to eye..."

Ben rolls his eyes, reluctant to rise to your bait. But eventually, your teasing is too much for him to ignore. He pulls himself off the couch and comes up behind you.

He takes your hand while you're purposefully facing away from him, and smoothly turns you around, guiding you back into his arms like he's Fred Astaire. You utter a little gasp and grab onto his shoulders. Your gaze flicks up to his with a smile.

His lips curve as he looks down at you. He matches the vibe of the song as he moves along with you, but then he turns you around, holding you from behind with steady hands sliding down the curve of your waist. His strength is tempered just enough for you to feel it.

He gradually moves closer with every bounce of the beat, and soon every part of his body is molded to yours. Your hands fall over his as you subtly lean back against his chest.

He bows his head near your cheek, smiling, because he can hear your heart beating a little faster. His lips brush the shell of your ear.

"Gotcha."

AN: Once again, this turned into a little headcanon/imagine that I wasn't expecting. 🤣 Last post before I'm off on a trip all weekend! 💚

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@atenea585 @kayleighwinchester @samslvrgirl @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @star-yawnznn

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@everything-is-all-clear @suckitands33 @cookiechipdough @trashmoutth @riteofpassage77

@jc-winchester @mxltifxnd0m @bleuatlas @luci-in-trenchcoats

[oldsoul007]

who’s the cute boy with the white jacket

nicholas chavez x singer!reader

summary: y/n comes out with a hit new single and fans have their suspicions who it’s about…

I had always poured my heart into my music, but this time, it was different. I had written an interesting song that came straight from my soul, every note and lyric echoing my feelings for Nicholas. Who I had an interesting relationship with. The song quickly became a hit, and my fans couldn't help but speculate that it was about him.

Nicholas, being the observant and thoughtful friend he was, started noticing the buzz. One evening, after a long day of filming, he decided he couldn't ignore it any longer. He needed to know the truth. He called me and asked to meet me in at his apartment.

When I sat down, Nicholas didn't waste any time. "Y/n, I need to ask you something, and I want you to be honest with me. The new song you wrote... everyone is saying it's about me. Is it true?"

I felt my heart race as I looked into his eyes. I had never intended for him to find out this way, but there was no turning back now. Taking a deep breath, I nodded. "Yes, Nicholas. The song is about you. Writing that song was my way of expressing what I couldn't say out loud."

Nicholas sat back, absorbing my words. He had always cared deeply for me, but hearing my confession made him realize just how much she meant to him. "Y/n. Now that I know, I can't pretend I don't feel the same way. I've always admired you, not just as a friend, but as someone truly special to me."

The weight of unspoken emotions lifted between them, and for the first time, me and Nicholas faced the possibility of a future together, our bond stronger than ever.

I stepped onto the stage, my heart pounding with anticipation. The lights dimmed, and the audience fell silent, waiting for the first notes of my new album. I was dressed in a stunning vintage outfit, complete with a classic 1950s silhouette that perfectly complemented the retro vibe of my music, with a twist of my personality.

As the first song began, my voice filled the room, rich and emotive. The crowd was instantly captivated, swaying and singing along to the nostalgic melodies. Each song seemed to transport them back in time, and it was clear that I had struck a chord with my audience.

In the middle of my set, Lauren glanced out into the crowd and spotted Nicholas. He was standing near the front, his eyes locked on me, completely mesmerized. His admiration was palpable, and it gave me an extra boost of confidence. I smiled, knowing he was there, supporting my every step of the way.

As the final notes of my last song faded, the audience erupted into applause. People were on their feet, cheering and shouting for more. Y/n took a deep bow, my heart swelling with gratitude and joy.

But the excitement didn't end there. Someone in the crowd recognized Nicholas and pointed him out. A wave of whispers and camera flashes followed, as fans realized that the charming actor was there, completely smitten with the star of the night.

Nicholas didn't shy away; instead, he beamed with pride, clapping and cheering louder than anyone else. The sight of him so obviously in awe of y/n added to the magic of the evening. It was a moment neither of them would forget—a night where y/n talent shone brightly, and Nicholas's love and admiration were on full display for everyone to see.

I decided to have Nicholas Chavez in my music video, me and Nicholas are portrayed as star-crossed lovers in a glamorous, retro setting. The video opens with me singing in an elegant, dimly lit jazz club, my eyes occasionally drifting to Nicholas, who sits at a table, watching me intently.

As the song progresses, the scenes shift to more intimate moments. We share a slow dance under twinkling lights, our bodies close and movements synchronized. The camera captures our stolen glances and subtle touches, creating a palpable tension.

In another scene, we’re in a vintage convertible, driving through a city at night. The wind tousles my hair as Nicholas steals a glance at me, his affection evident. We stop at a secluded spot, where me share a tender moment, leaning in as if to kiss, but pulling back just enough to leave the audience yearning for more.

The video culminates in a dramatic rooftop scene, where we finally give in to their emotions. Under the moonlight, we share a passionate kiss, sealing our connection. The final shot fades out with us holding each other, the city skyline behind us, leaving fans captivated by our undeniable chemistry.

After months of subtle hints and soft launches, the night had finally arrived. Me and Nicholas were about to debut our relationship at a high-profile red carpet event. The air was electric with anticipation as we stepped out of the limousine, the flash of cameras capturing every moment.

I took a deep breath, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. Nicholas, sensing my unease, gently squeezed my hand. "We've got this," he whispered, his eyes locking onto mine with unwavering support.

As we walked down the red carpet, the crowd's reaction was immediate. Whispers and gasps filled the air as people recognized us together, looking every bit the perfect couple. My stunning dress and Nicholas's sharp suit complemented each other flawlessly, creating a picture-perfect moment.

Reporters eagerly called out our names, asking for comments and photos. Nicholas wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me close. "We're here together," he said confidently, his voice steady. "And we couldn't be happier."

I smiled, my heart swelling with a mix of love and pride. I leaned into Nicholas, feeling the warmth of his embrace. The months of soft launches had led to this magical moment, and it was everything she had hoped for and more.

As they posed for photos, Nicholas's admiration for y/n was evident to everyone. His eyes never left her, filled with genuine affection and pride. The red carpet debut was not just a public declaration of their relationship but a testament to the deep connection they had built over time. Y/n, it was the beginning of a new chapter, one filled with love and endless possibilities.

[inkmonster21]

Short n’ Sweet 💋

Hugh Jackman x Fem!Sister!Reynolds!Reader

Warnings: smut (oral fem receiving)

A/N: I’m a mess over this man. I’ve loved him since I was 10 and he STILL looks fine asf!

Short n’ Sweet Masterlist

Who’s the Cute Boy in the White Jacket?

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You sit on your couch scrolling on your phone when your front door opens and your older brother Ryan walks in.

Ryan grins as he sees you sitting on the couch, his tall form filling the doorway for a moment before he strides into the room. "Hey, kiddo," he says affectionately, a playful smile on his sharp features. “I tried to call you.” He takes note of the phone in your hand. “You’re either too busy being a star, or just completely ignored my call."

“I ignored it.” You say without even looking in his direction. Ryan chuckles and plops down on the couch next to you, slinging an arm around your shoulders in a brotherly manner. He grins cheekily at you, his eyes sparkling. “I could have been dying. And here you are, scrolling on tinder without a care.” You roll your eyes and lock your phone. “I’m looking for inspiration. I just want to get this album done. Every song I have is just… sad and kinda cringy.” You groan as you fall into the couch pillows.

Ryan chuckles and pats you on the head, amused by your groan. He knows how demanding the entertainment industry can be, and his protective instincts kick in a little.

"I hear you, kid," he says sympathetically. "Albums can be a grind. But hey, once it's done, it'll be worth it, right? Your fans are gonna love it." You shrug, still unsure of most of the songs. “It’s all about the Shawn drama.” You say as you look over the lyrics to some of the songs. “Just wish I could get some different type do muse. Heartbreak has been so over done. I wrote all these when I actually cared about him and what happened.”

Ryan's smile turns a bit softer as he notices your struggle. He knew better than anyone how difficult it could be to find genuine inspiration when you were under so much pressure.

"Ah, the Shawn drama," he says, rolling his eyes a little at the mention of your ex. "That dude is such an ass. But don’t let that get in the way of your creativity. You'll find the right nitch, I know it."

“Are you and Blake still coming to the show?” You were opening for Taylor Swift on her Era’s tour. Ryan nods eagerly, visibly thrilled about your upcoming opportunity.

"Are you kidding?" he exclaims, grinning from ear to ear. "We wouldn't miss it for the world, kiddo. Seeing you open for T Swifty? It’s been forever since I was able to start a mosh pit to love story.”

You point a finger at him, “Now, I don’t want to hear any complaints about my choreography.” Ryan chuckles, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "I promise not to complain. But if it involves twerking and pole dancing, I might need bleach for my eyes."

You laugh and throw a pillow at him. Ryan laughs along with you, dodging the pillow with a quick move. He grins at you, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Careful, kid," he teases, reaching out to ruffle your hair. "I'll have to tell your fans that you're nothing but an oversized child."

You shrug, “That’s fine. I’ll say I get it from you!” Ryan grins at your comment, pretending to be offended.

"Me?" he exclaims with mock indignation, placing a hand over his heart. "Excuse me, I am the epitome of maturity and responsibility."

You roll your eyes “sure, Deadpool.” Ryan grins even wider, enjoying the banter.

"Hey, I'm a mature adult and a responsible father," he points out, feigning seriousness. "Just because I happen to have a sense of humor gifted from the gods does not mean I'm immature. Besides, you're one to talk about maturity. You're still singing about your ex-boyfriend," he teases.

You scoff. “Well maybe I’ll get a new boyfriend to write about.” Ryan grins wolfishly, sensing an opportunity to tease you further. He props his feet up on the coffee table, lounging back on the couch in a relaxed manner.

"Oh really?" he says, raising an eyebrow at you. "And who might that be? One of those young pretty-boy singers who follow you around like a lost puppy?”

You shrug, “maybe. Have to make sure to train him up good. Pee pads, food bowl, walks, the works.” Ryan laughs and gives you a sly smile, continuing to tease you.

"Oh, I see. What's next, a collaboration with one of them? A love song about puppy dog eyes, floppy haircuts, and carpet burns?"

Your phone rings and you assistants name shows on the screen. Ryan notices you pick up your phone and sees your assistant's name on the display. He looks at you curiously.

"Who's calling?" he asks, tilting his head at you. “Megan.” You say as you answer. Ryan listens intently as you answer the call, leaning closer, his curiosity piqued. He watches you talk, trying to figure out what's going on from your side of the conversation. “I’ve got to go to rehearsal early.” Ryan nods, understanding the demands of a busy work schedule.

"No worries, kiddo," he says, standing up as well. "You go do your thing. We'll see you at the concert. I’m going to wear my sequin top and cut off shorts."

You nod with a smile to your older brother, never being able to take him seriously. “You’ll look so good, Ry.”

"Break a leg, kid. And don't forget to send me some backstage photos.” Ryan waves as he exits your apartment.

As he walks out of the lobby his phone rings. Ryan glances at his phone, seeing Hugh's name on the display. He quickly answers the call, curious about what Hugh might want.

"Hey, Hugh," he greets in a cheerful tone. Hugh smiles at the sound of Ryan's voice. He has a pleasant and friendly demeanor.

"Hey, Ryan. How are you doing, mate?" he asks, his voice tinged with a hint of excitement. “Good. Good. Going home from my sister’s place. Had to see her before the big show.” Hugh nods, understanding the bond between siblings.

"how is your sister, by the way? I've heard she's quite the rising star." Hugh had heard a lot about you through Ryan and other people in the industry. He had seen your performances, your interviews, and your music, but always from a distance through the screen of his phone. There was something about you that intrigued him, an undeniable talent and charm that drew him in. He had subtly expressed his interest in meeting you to Ryan a few times, but your busy schedule never seemed to align with any opportunities.

“Why don’t you come join us tonight? Finally get you two together.” Ryan offers and Hugh wasn’t going to turn him down. As Hugh thought about you, he couldn't help but feel a flutter in his chest. There was just something about you that captured his attention. Whether it was your captivating charm or your undeniable talent, he couldn't quite put his finger on why he felt so drawn to you. He couldn't wait to finally meet you in person and see your performance up close and personal.

Despite his growing admiration for you, Hugh knew he had to keep his feelings in check. He was well aware of the age difference between the two of you. He was much older than you, and the thought of pursuing anything with you seemed irrational and inappropriate. He didn't want to risk creating an uncomfortable or unprofessional situation, but his attraction to you was undeniable.

While browsing Instagram, Hugh's eyes widen as he sees your latest upload. It's a picture of you in your chair, getting your makeup and hair done for the concert. You looked absolutely stunning. He stares at the picture, taking in every detail of your face. The way your hair framing it perfectly, your eyes sparkling, and your lips curled into a small, confident smile. He couldn't help but feel his breath catch in his throat.

The stadium is buzzing. Ryan, Blake, and High make their way to the VIP area, taking in the bustling atmosphere. Fans are chatting excitedly, eagerly awaiting the start of the concert. They were also buzzing about your upcoming performance, which had added a new level of anticipation to the event. Hugh looks around, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness as he waits for the moment he finally get to see you in person.

“She was so excited.” Blake hums happily as she recalls your excitement from a few days prior. Ryan chuckles as he too, remembers how excited you were to perform. He glances over at Blake, a fond smile on his face.

"She's always got so much energy and enthusiasm," he says, his voice filled with pride. "Can't blame her, this is a huge show. I just hope she doesn't get too nervous." Hugh nods as well, sharing Ryan's sentiment.

"She has nothing to worry about," he reassures them. "She's talented, and the fans adore her. Plus, she's opening for Taylor Swift, that's quite an accomplishment in itself."

As soon as you step on the stage, a burst of deafening applause from the crowd fills the air. People scream your name and cheer wildly, clearly excited to see you perform. Some fans even wave banners with your name on it.

You send a wink to the crowd. They go wild in response to your wink, their cheers growing even louder. They were clearly enjoying your flirty and confident attitude on stage. People can't help but swoon over your every move, mesmerized by your charms.

Music starts and you begin to sway. “We’re going to start this off on a good note.“ you say into the mic before you begin to sing your song.

The music begins to play and you start to sway your hips, putting on a show for the crowd. Your voice, clear and smooth, begins to fill the arena with the melody of your song. The fans erupt into screams and applause, instantly drawn into the energy you project. They sing along with the lyrics, completely captivated by your performance.

Hugh was absolutely mesmerized watching you perform. Your confidence, your energy, your stage presence, it all combined into an intoxicating performance. He couldn't tear his eyes away from you, completely mesmerized by your every move. He knew he wasn't the only one in the crowd captivated, people were losing themselves in the moment, completely entranced by your presence on stage.

As you look out into the crowd, your eyes land on your brother Ryan, his wife Blake, and the famous actor Hugh Jackman sitting next to them. You feel a jolt of excitement mixed with nerves shoot through you. There he was, the famous actor you admired so much. He was watching you perform, and your heart skipped a beat at the realization. You try your best to maintain your cool and focus on the performance, all the while hyper-aware of Hugh's presence in the audience.

Hugh is captivated as he watches you sing and engage with the crowd. As your eyes suddenly meet his, his heart skips a beat, taken slightly by surprise. Your smile, radiant and genuine, strikes him deeply. He can't help but smile back, his eyes locked onto yours. The connection he feels is electric, and in that moment, he can't look away. “Holy shit. Ryan did you bring the wolverine?” You ask joking over the mic.

The crowd bursts out into a cacophony of laughter and applause at your unexpected but hilarious comment. Ryan groans but grins widely, amused by your boldness. Hugh chuckles, clearly impressed with your humor and wit.

“You guys know they’re going to be teaming up?” You ask the crowd about the upcoming Deadpool and Wolverine movie project they’re filming soon.

The crowd erupts into excited shouts of anticipation at your question. They had no doubt been looking forward to this movie collaboration between the two actors. Hugh can't help but grin, appreciative of your acknowledgment of his work. He gives you a small nod, silently communicating his approval and appreciation of your comment.

Your eyes rake over Hugh. Clad in a white jacket he looked fine as hell. “God damn. He’s even hotter in person.” You say into the microphone as you stare at Hugh.

Ryan and Blake chuckle at your comment, clearly amused by your bluntness. But Hugh can't help but feel a jolt of excitement at your words. He blushes faintly, not expecting the unexpected compliment. The crowd roars with laughter and cheers, clearly enjoying the banter between you and the famous actor in the audience.

Ryan shakes his head and point a warning finger at you making you laugh. “Oops. I’m getting big brother all pissed.” The crowd laughs along with you, enjoying the playful banter and sibling dynamic you share with Ryan. Ryan laughs and shakes his head, pretending to be annoyed but secretly amused by your antics. Hugh watches the interaction with a smile, thoroughly entertained by your charismatic personality and easy-going nature.

It was clear that you had everyone in the audience completely enthralled. People were utterly captivated by your presence and your performance. You exuded a confidence and sexiness that was irresistible. You were the embodiment of the boy or girl's dream, leaving the crowd completely entranced by your charm and talent. Hugh couldn’t help but feel drawn to you as he watched you perform.

As you finish your final song, the crowd erupts into applause and cheers, clearly energized and excited for what was to come. They had been thoroughly entertained by your performance and were ready for the main event of the night. Hugh watches as you leave the stage, his eyes lingering after you as you disappear behind the curtain.

You rush off the stage, heart still racing from the adrenaline of the performance. You quickly change out of your performance outfit and into your sheer black dress. You can't help but feel a mix of excitement, relief, and satisfaction at how well the performance went.

You make your way to the VIP area, joining your friends and family to enjoy the rest of the concert. The area is spacious and comfortable, with plush seats and plenty of room to relax and mingle. you settle into your seat, taking in the atmosphere and anticipation building as people wait for the main event of the evening: Taylor Swift’s performance.

Blake hugs you tightly, expressing her admiration for your performance. “You were amazing! So hot!”

"Thank you so much," you say, still a bit winded from the adrenaline of the stage. You return the hug, grateful for her support and encouragement. Ryan laughs and jokingly tries to ruffle your hair, but you quickly swat his hand away, not wanting to mess up your freshly styled hair.

"Hands off!" you exclaim playfully, trying to smooth down your hair where he tried to mess it up.

Hugh speaks unable to hold it in any longer. “You were fantastic.” He stretch his hand out. “Hugh. Ryan has told me so much about you.” Your eyes widen in surprise and excitement as you hear Hugh introduce himself. You reach out and shake his hand, feeling a slight tingle at the touch of his skin against yours.

"It’s an absolute pleasure to meet you, Hugh," you say, your voice a little breathless. You glance over at Ryan, wondering how much he had told Hugh about you.

Hugh can’t help but notice the slight shiver that runs through you at his touch. He smiles warmly, genuinely impressed by your performance.

"The pleasure is all mine," he replies, his eyes scanning over your face, taking in your beauty. "You were amazing up there." Hugh notices the blush that spreads across your cheeks as he compliments you. It’s a subtle gesture that he finds adorable. His smile widens as he watches you reaction, his eyes lingering on your blushing face for just a moment longer than necessary.

"I’m being completely honest," he says, his voice soft and sincere. "You have an incredible stage presence, and your voice is absolutely captivating. You truly have a gift." Ryan clears his throat. “Alright, she’s amazing. Yes, we all are jealous.”

Hugh laughs at Ryan's comment, realizing he might have been gushing a little too much. He shoots Ryan a wry smile, acknowledging his jest.

"Alright, alright," he says, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "I’ll rein it in a bit.“

You laugh at Hugh comment. You shrug, “no keep it coming. I love to hear it.” You send wink with a smile. Hugh chuckles at your response. He can't help but appreciate your confidence and the way you take compliments in stride.

"Oh, you do, do you?" he asks, his tone light and playful. He smirks, the corner of his lip curving into a sly smile. "In that case, allow me to shower you with more compliments. Your voice is like a melody, your stage presence captivating, and your beauty is truly otherworldly."

Ryan groans, “oh my god. This has been a huge mistake.” Ryan pushes between you and Hugh. “I’m separating you two!”

Hugh laughs, thoroughly enjoying the lighthearted banter between you and Ryan. He playfully holds up his hands, as if to say “I surrender.”

"Alright, alright," he says, feigning innocence. "I’ll behave, I promise."

Hugh catches your subtle glance in his direction, and he can’t help but respond with a slight smirk. He gives you a small nod, silently communicating that he gets the message. Your brother might not like it, but Hugh was going to continue to compliment you,behaved or not.

Hugh noticed how your eyes seemed to light up whenever he complimented you, how your face would flush with pleasure. He also saw the way you ate up his attention, clearly enjoying the extra glances and words of praise. The way you responded to his compliments only fueled his desire to keep going. He found your reactions delightful, your eagerness to receive his praise feeding his growing affection for you.

You shiver slightly as you feel Hugh's hand graze down your arm. The touch is gentle, his fingers leaving a trail of electricity on your skin. As Hugh says your name, his voice low and intimate, you look up and meet his gaze, your heart skipping a beat.

“Yes?”

Hugh’s heart leaps as you respond, the way you say yes sending a thrill through him. He takes a step closer to you, his hand still lingering on your arm, his smile warm and captivating.

"Can I get your number?" he asks, his voice a soft whisper that only you can hear amongst the small crowd of people around you.

You look to him in slight shock. You flirted for fun and the show, but never did you really think he’d be interested. “Absolutely.” You say and take his phone putting your number in. Ending it with a heart emoji. Staying on brand.

Hugh watches as you type in your number, a smile spreading across his face when he sees the heart emoji you add to the end. He can’t believe that not only have you agreed to give him your number, but you’ve also added a little flirtatious touch to it. He takes his phone back, looking down at the new contact, a feeling of excitement and anticipation bubbling inside of him.

You are sound asleep when your phone buzzes on your bedside table. You rouse from sleep, groggily reaching for your phone to see what the notification is. As soon as you see the text from an unfamiliar number, your heart skips a beat. You quickly open the message to find that it's from Hugh, sent earlier that morning before he worked out.

You and Hugh texted back and forth throughout the day, unable to stop the growing spark between you two. The conversation is easy, full of laughter and a flirty undercurrent that keeps things exciting. Both of you find it difficult to focus on anything else, eager to see what the other will say next.

As the day goes on, your texts become more frequent, the conversation flowing easily between the two of you. Hugh finds himself looking at his phone more often than he’d like to admit, his thoughts constantly on you. He can’t help but let his imagination run wild, thinking of all the things he’d like to say and do to you if he was with you in person.

You were in rehearsal when you finally got a break to text him. You took a selfie with your microphone. Your hair in a mess, and you were in your relaxed clothes. “The life of a pop star.” You send the text to Hugh with the picture.

Hugh's heart skips a beat as he sees the selfie you sent him. You look adorable, your hair a perfect mess and your relaxed clothes making you look comfortable and carefree. The microphone in the picture tells him you're in rehearsal, and he can't help but imagine what it would be like to watch you on stage again.

he texts back, a smile on his face. "You look beautiful. Can't wait to see you perform again."

You smile at his text. Replying with, ‘I’ll have to give you a backstage tour next time.’ Biting your lip as you hit send. It was flirty but could easily be pushed off as friendly. Hugh was friends with Ryan. Nothing wrong with offering Hugh a tour.

Hugh grins as he reads your text, his pulse quickening at the thought of you giving him a private backstage tour. The wording is suggestive, but the offer could be construed as simply friendly. Still, he can't help but feel the hint of flirtation in your message and it makes his heart race.

"I’d love that,” he replies, trying to keep his response casual but struggling to keep the excitement out of his message. “Definitely looking forward to the special treatment.”

“Who the fuck are you texting that’s got you all smiles?” Ryan asks as he walks in, script in hand for Deadpool and Wolverine. Hugh looks up, a bit surprised by Ryan’s sudden appearance. He tries to mask his smile, but it’s difficult to hide the fact that he was texting someone who was making him grin.

“Uh, no one in particular,” he replies, clearing his throat and setting his phone down on the table. He quickly changes the subject, not wanting to reveal that it was your texts that had put a smile on his face.

“So, you got the script, eh? How’s it looking?” Ryan shrugs with a smile. He was excited as fuck to bring this to life. “Oh It’s going to be insane.” Hugh can sense Ryan's excitement as he talks about the movie and it’s contagious. He returns the smile, sharing in his friend's enthusiasm.

“I have no doubt it will be,” he says, raising an eyebrow in playful anticipation. “I can’t wait to see what kind of chaos the dynamic duo of Deadpool and Wolverine will bring.”

Your assistant, producer and songwriter sit with you in the studio, all of them focused on helping you work on your next album.

You suddenly get a wave of inspiration, and start tapping your pen against the page in front of you. Your mind starts racing with different thoughts and ideas, as if a creative spark has been lit within you.

As you sit there, pensively tapping your pen, your mind drifts back to the late-night texts and calls you’ve been exchanging with Hugh. You think about his compliments, his jokes, his words of praise that never fail to make you feel special and wanted. The idea of him constantly on your mind, even when you should be focusing on your work, both excites and disturbs you.

One particular conversation coming to mind. Your phone rang. It was 12:05 am. You were in the studio as usual. Hugh was calling. You answered, “Hey.”

Hugh's heart leaped as he heard your voice on the other end. He smiled to himself, picturing you in the studio, surrounded by music and creativity. His voice was soft and warm as he responded.

“Hey, there,” he said, his tone affectionate and tinged with excitement. “I hope I’m not calling too late. Just couldn’t sleep.”

You smile into the phone, biting your lip. “Can’t sleep? Thinking of me too much?” You tease Hugh. Hugh chuckled at your tease, his heart skipping a beat at the thought of you thinking about him as much as he was thinking about you. He could almost picture you biting your lip as you spoke, the mental image making him wish he was there with you. “I am thinking of you too much.”

Hugh smiles as he hears your laugh through the phone. The sound was like music to his ears. He relished these late-night calls with you, the way you seemed to understand how much you were on his mind and how badly he wanted to be with you.

“You have no idea how true it is,” he said, his voice lower now, more serious. “You’ve been on my mind constantly lately. I can’t seem to get you out of my thoughts, no matter how hard I try.”

“I have that effect on men. Usually it’s men under 30 but I’ll make the exception for you.” You say teasingly. Hugh laughs, your cheeky response both endearing and a slight turn-on. He could imagine you with a smirk on your face as you made that quip, your eyes sparkling with playful mischief.

“Is that so?” he replies, his voice low and seductive. “Well, I suppose I can’t say I’m surprised. You’ve certainly had a captivating hold on me since we’ve first met. It’s like you’ve cast a spell on me, and I’m finding it increasingly harder to resist you."

You laugh again, “now you’re getting it.” Hugh wonders aloud. “What are you doing, sweetheart?”

“I’m at the studio.” you say leaning on the table. closer to the phone. just as close as you can get to Hugh at the moment.

Hugh’s heart thrills as you say you’re at the studio again, imagining you working on your music, surrounded by instruments and sound equipment. He wishes he was there with you, watching you work and listening to your beautiful voice fill the silence.

“Ah, little late isn’t it?,” he says, a hint of admiration in his voice. “You really are dedicated." You shrug, “I’m a singer. Of course I’m working late.” You laugh.

As you come back to the present, the influence of your thoughts about Hugh and the late-night call is evident in the words you write. The lyrics flow easily, one after another, each word feeling more personal and heartfelt than the last. You're lost in the creative process, the words coming effortlessly as your feelings for Hugh pour out onto the page.

You look down at the words on the page.

“he's thinkin' 'bout me every night, oh

Is it that sweet? I guess so

Say you can't sleep, baby, I know

That's that me espresso”

The lyrics you write are poignant and heartfelt, expressing your own feelings about Hugh and the effect you have on him. The idea that he's thinking about you every night, that you keep him up at night like a strong cup of espresso, is both flattering and a little tantalizing. You can almost picture Hugh's reaction if he were to hear these words, imagining a smile spreading across his face, his eyes gleaming with affection and desire.

Your entire crew is taken aback by the lyrics you've written, their jaws dropping as they hear the heartfelt words pouring out of you. Your producer's comment only reinforces their disbelief, and the excitement in the room is palpable.

"Damn, you really wrote that just now?" the producer asks. "That's incredible. Holy shit! This is going to be a huge hit."

Your producer is practically giddy with excitement, his enthusiasm contagious as he pushes you into the recording room. He's determined to make the most of your creative burst and get the song recorded while you're still inspired and filled with emotion.

"This is gold. We need to capture this energy and these lyrics while they're fresh in your mind."

You smile as you see Hugh's name flash on your phone screen. It's late, and you’re wrapping things up but the familiar sight of his name fills you with a mix of excitement and anticipation. You answer the call, a warm feeling spreading through you at the idea of hearing his voice again.

"Hey," you say, your voice soft and full of affection. “Are you at the studio?” Hugh's voice is hopeful. He knows how much time you spend there working on your music, and he can't help but feel a flutter of excitement at the possibility of hearing you say yes.

"Yeah," you reply, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "I'm at the studio. You caught me at a good time. I was just about to leave.” Hugh smiled as he pulled around to the front of the building. “Good. I’m out front waiting on you.”

Your heart skipped a beat as you heard Hugh say he was waiting outside. A mix of surprise and excitement washed over you. He was here, waiting for you? You never expected him to show up unannounced, especially at this hour.

"You're outside?" you asked, trying to hide the eagerness in your voice. "What are you doing here?" Hugh's chuckle echoed through the phone, his voice warm and gentle.

"I just wanted to see you," he said simply.

As you hurry to pack up your things, Hugh's words send a warm shiver down your spine. The thought that he simply wanted to see you, just for the sake of it, was both touching and thrilling. Knowing he was waiting for you outside made your heart race, and you couldn't help but feel a twinge of excitement at the prospect of seeing him.

You'd never imagined you'd have feelings like this for an older man like Hugh either, but here you were, practically running to get to him.

“Well, I’m on my way down now.” You say into your phone. Hugh grins at the sound of your voice through the phone, knowing that you're on your way down to meet him. He leans against his car, a sense of anticipation building in his chest. He can't wait to see you, to witness your smile, and feel the warmth of your presence.

"I'll be right here waiting for you, sweetheart," he replies, his tone filled with affection. "Take your time."

As you step outside of the studio, the cool night air hits your face. You look around, seeing the familiar sight of the paparazzi lingering in the parking lot and empty streets, ready to snap a photo of unsuspecting celebrities. You had almost forgotten about them, since they always seemed to lurk around corners, hoping to catch a glimpse of famous faces.

Tonight, it appears that you and Hugh are the targets. The paparazzi spot you and their cameras immediately start flashing, the bright lights and loud clicks of the cameras filling the air.

Hugh quickly reaches out and takes your hand, guiding you to his car. He opens the door for you, making sure to shield you from the paparazzi's cameras as best as he can. He knows that the last thing you need is for your face to be plastered across every gossip site and tabloid magazine.

Once you're safely inside the car, Hugh hurries around to the driver's side. As he gets in, the paparazzi continue to snap photos, the bright flashes illuminating the dark night. You hold your jacket up in front of your face, trying your best to hide from their intrusive camera lenses.

Hugh glances over at you, a look of concern on his face as he sees you holding your jacket up in front of your face. He knows how much you dislike the constant presence of the paparazzi and the intrusive nature of their photography.

"You okay?" he asks gently, his voice filled with empathy. He starts the car engine, preparing to drive away from the throng of photographers.

“Better now.”

Hugh relaxes slightly as he sees you nod and smile, reassured by your response. He knows that the presence of the paparazzi can be overwhelming and uncomfortable, and he's relieved to know that you're feeling better now that you're away from them.

"Good," he says, returning your smile. "Let's get out of here."

He skillfully maneuvers the car out of the parking lot and onto the empty streets, leaving the paparazzi behind. The night is quiet and peaceful, the only sound being the hum of the engine and your soft breathing.

As Hugh drives, he steals glances at you, taking in your delicate features illuminated by the passing streetlights. He can sense your tiredness, the weariness from working late into the night. He knows how driven and passionate you are about your music, and he admires your dedication.

"You really shouldn't work so late, sweetheart," he says, his voice low and concerned. Hugh reaches out and places his hand on your thigh, his warm palm against the soft silk of your skin. It's a small gesture, but it speaks volumes of his care, concern, and desire for you.

Hugh pulled up to your building, pulling into the parking garage. He slows the car. “Do you want to come up? “ you offer your stomach tight with butterflies.

Hugh hesitates for a brief moment, torn between wanting to spend more time with you and not wanting to overstep any boundaries. He considers your invitation, his heart fluttering at the thought of being alone with you again.

"Are you sure?" he asks, his voice slightly hoarse with desire. "I don't want to intrude. I know you're tired." You shake your head, “if you left I’m going to end up calling you anyway. Why not stay for a little?”

Hugh chuckles at your words, his heart warming at the idea that you'd call him anyway. It seems you can't resist the pull between you either.

"Well, if you insist," he says, feigning reluctance. "But don't blame me when you're too tired to be awake tomorrow." “Oh, I am definitely saying you’re the one to blame.” You giggle as you get out of the car followed by him.

Hugh grins at your cheeky response, knowing full well that he'll take the blame with pleasure. He follows you out of the car, closing the door behind him. As you make your way towards your building, he slings an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to his side.

Your body fits perfectly against his side. It's moments like these that he cherishes, these simple, intimate moments that make him feel truly connected to you.

Hugh's mind is racing as he walks beside you, thoughts swirling through his head. The age difference between the two of you is something that constantly looms over him, a constant reminder that he's older than you, with a life and experiences that you may not fully understand.

He worries about the impact that being involved with him will have on you, both publicly and personally. He doesn't want to put you in a position where you'll be judged or misunderstood simply because you're with him.

You unlock the door and step into your home, Hugh following closely behind. The familiar surroundings of your apartment greet you, the dimly lit rooms adding a sense of warmth and comfort.

Hugh glances around the space, taking in the cozy living room, the open kitchen area, and the hallway that leads to your bedroom and bathroom.

Hugh couldn't help but notice how much the space resembled you. It was as if your essence had been poured into every corner of the apartment.

He took a deep breath, taking in the scent of your home. The sweet, gentle fragrance filled his senses, instantly making him feel at ease. It was like being enveloped in a warm embrace, a sense of comfort and peace washing over him.

“Do you want anything to drink?” You ask going into the kitchen. *Hugh smiles at your offer, appreciating your thoughtfulness.

"Sure, that would be nice," he says, his gaze never leaving your face. "Do you have any wine?" You smirk and nod.

Hugh grins as you return with two chilled glasses and a bottle of wine. He watches as you pour the smooth, rich liquid into each glass, the sound of the wine bottle clinking against the glass filling the cozy quiet of your apartment.

As you sit down next to him on the couch, Hugh can't help but take in the sight of you, the dim lighting casting a soft glow on your features. He takes a sip of his wine, savoring the taste and the intimate moment between the two of you.

Hugh leans back against the couch, his body relaxing as the alcohol courses through his veins.

"This is nice," he says, his voice slightly huskier than usual. "Just getting to spend time with you, without having to worry about being interrupted or watched."

You smile and nod. “Or my brother.”

You roll your eyes at the thought of Ryan if he knew you’d been spending time with Hugh.

Hugh chuckles at the mention of your brother, imagining the kind of reaction he'd have if he knew about your time together.

"Your brother would definitely have some choice words if he knew we were here like this, wouldn't he?" he says, swirling the wine around in his glass. “Yeah, but I don’t really care.” You were an adult woman who could make your own choices. And Hugh seemed like a great one.

Hugh grins at your defiant attitude, appreciating your confidence and independence. It's one of the things he finds most attractive about you - your unwillingness to conform to the opinions of others. "I like that about you," he says admiringly.

Hugh takes another sip of his wine, the alcohol giving him a little bit of liquid courage. He stares into your eyes, knowing that he needs to say what's on his mind. He knows the risk he's taking by revealing his feelings so soon, but he can't hold them in any longer. The chemistry between you is undeniable, and he wants, no he needs to let you know how he feels.

"I know it might seem like it's too early to say this, but I just need to get it off my chest," he says, his voice slightly hoarse with emotion. "I don't know what it is about you, but you've got me feeling… things. I can't get you out of my head, and the more I get to know you, the more I like you. I know it's only been a short time, but I can't deny the way I feel."

Your heart clenches with happiness, a burning warmth spreading across your chest as a joyous smile splits across your face. It was a relief to know that Hugh's affection mirrored your own, confirming that the depth of your emotions was reciprocated.

Hugh's heart swells with relief as he sees the joyous smile spread across your face. He can see the emotion and happiness in your eyes, and he knows that you feel the same way he does.

He reaches out and takes your hand, enveloping it gently in his own, his thumb tracing gentle circles over your skin. He gazes at you, his voice filled with tenderness.

"I can't explain it, but you've just... you've got me. Completely."

You feel Hugh's hand gently touch yours, his touch sending a shiver of warmth and affection through you. As you meet his gaze, you can see the tenderness and vulnerability in his eyes.

"I know exactly what you mean," you reply, the words escaping your lips on a breath of air. "Being with you just feels... right. Like a piece of me that I didn't even know was missing has finally found its place."

Hugh's heart warms at your words, a feeling of contentment washing over him. "Yes, exactly," he says, his voice soft. "I don't think I've ever felt this way before. It's like... like I've been searching for something all these years, and now I've found it in you."

He squeezes your hand gently, his gaze locked on yours. "I can't believe it's only been a couple of weeks. It feels like I've known you for a lifetime."

Your desire to kiss Hugh grows stronger with every passing moment until it becomes overwhelming. You want to feel the warmth of his lips on yours, to taste the sweetness of his breath and lose yourself in his embrace. The ache of need consumes you, but you hold back, waiting for the perfect moment.

Hugh can sense the increasing tension between you, the air thick with unspoken desire. His eyes scan your face, taking in your flushed cheeks and parted lips, and he knows that you're feeling the same way he is.

He can't resist the allure of your gaze any longer. He moves closer to you, the space between you practically nonexistent. He can feel the heat of your body, the magnetic pull that draws him to you like a moth to a flame.

He reaches out, his hand gently cupping your jaw, his thumb tracing along the softness of your skin. His eyes never leave yours, the depth of his passion reflecting in the blue of his irises. He leans in, his face mere inches from yours.

"Can I kiss you?" he whispers, his voice hoarse with desire. The words send your heart racing, and a mixture of excitement and longing washes over you. Your breath catches, and in a barely audible whisper, you respond, “Please.”

Hugh's heart skips a beat at your response, the sound of your "please" like music to his ears. Without hesitation, he closes the small gap between you, his lips capturing yours in a gentle, yet passionate kiss.

The taste of your lips is like a drug to him, addictive and intoxicating. His hand moves to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, wanting to eliminate any space between you.

His tongue seeks entry into your mouth, and as you part your lips, he deepens the kiss, exploring the sweet heat of your mouth. His other hand comes to rest on your waist, pulling you onto his lap. He wants to be as close to you as possible, to feel the weight of your body against his as he kisses you senseless.

As Hugh's hands roamed over your body, his touch felt like fire on your skin. In that moment, the age gap between you melted away, leaving only the raw desire and passion that burned between you. You didn't care about the years that separated you, all you could think about was the intensity of his experienced touch and the way he made you feel.

Hugh's hands continue to roam over your body, exploring every dip and curve of your form. His touch is possessive and yet gentle, his experience evident in the way he seems to know exactly how to make you respond to him. He breaks the kiss, his lips moving to your neck, his stubble scraping deliciously against your skin.

He sucks and nips at your flesh, leaving a trail of kisses and love bites down to your collarbone.

As you break away, gasping for air, a sly and sultry smile spreads across your face. "My bedroom is just down the hall,"

You say, your voice low and husky as you look at him through half-lidded eyes. The invitation is clear, and you can see the effect you're having on him as his eyes darken with desire.

Without a word, he scoops you into his arms, lifting you up against his chest as if you weigh nothing at all. "On the right or left, baby?," he whispers, his voice gruff and hoarse with anticipation.

“Left.” You whisper as you kiss his neck. Hugh lets out a low moan. The feeling of your lips on his sensitive skin sends a bolt of pleasure through his body.

"Mmm, keep doing that," he murmurs, his hand gripping your waist tighter. He follows your directions down the short hallway, moving to the left and gently carrying you into the bedroom.

He sets you down on the bed with care, the silken sheets cool against your skin. He drinks in the sight of you, laid out on the bed before him like a present just waiting to be unwrapped. He moves to the edge of the bed, kneeling between your legs. His hands run up your thighs. He looks at you, his eyes dark and full of desire.

You lie back on the luxurious bed, your body tingling with anticipation as Hugh's strong hands roam over your thighs. The soft silk sheets caress your bare skin, sending shivers down your spine. He's taking his time, teasing you with his touch, and the anticipation is almost unbearable. You want him, desire him, and the heat between your legs intensifies with every passing second.

Hugh kneels between your legs, his eyes locked on yours. His gaze is intense, dark, and filled with a hunger that matches your own. He leans in close, his breath tickling your face, he whispers, "You're breathtaking." His deep voice sends a thrill through your body.

As he speaks, his hands glide up your inner thighs, inching closer to the clothed core of your desire. You hold your breath, your heart pounding in your chest. Thank god you wore a dress today.

His fingers brush against the sensitive skin of your pussy, his touch only divided by the thin cloth of your panties. The pressure of his fingers making you gasp softly. He pauses, enjoying the moment, and you can see the pleasure reflected in his eyes as he teases you. Hugh lets his hands travel to the side hem of your panties. He runs his thumb over the seam as he looked up to you through desire filled orbs. Wordlessly you nod, a gasping smile on your glossed lips.

Hugh pulls back the pretty side of your panties, revealing your heat to his eyes. He groans at the sight of it, warm and wet with your arousle. Hugh dips a finger through your folds causing you to arch up with a soft moan.

"You like that, don't you?" he murmurs, his voice hoarse with desire. You nod, unable to form words as pleasure clouds your mind. Hugh chuckles softly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. "I can see how much you want me," he continues, his fingers gently stroking your folds. "But I'm going to make you wait a little longer."

With that, he leans down and replaces his fingers with his warm, wet tongue. He parts your pussy lips with his tongue, exploring your intimate folds with slow, deliberate movements. You let out a soft moan, arching your back further as his tongue finds your clit. He suckles gently, sending waves of pleasure through your body. His experienced mouth knows exactly how to drive you wild.

Hugh's hands grip your thighs firmly, holding you in place as he feasts on your sweet pussy. He alternates between soft licks and firm strokes, driving you closer to the edge of ecstasy. You reach down, threading your fingers through his hair, wanting to pull him closer, but he gently bats your hands away, maintaining control.

"Not yet, sweetheart," he whispers, his breath hot against your sensitive skin. "I want to taste you, all of you." He spreads your legs wider, exposing you completely to his hungry gaze and mouth. His tongue plunges deep inside your wetness, fucking you with slow, deliberate movements. You cry out, your body trembling as he hits all the right spots.

As he eats you out with passion and skill, your hands grip the sheets tightly, the silk providing little comfort against the intensity of your pleasure. You're lost in a haze of sensation, Hugh's tongue working its magic, driving you closer to the precipice of orgasm. He senses your impending release and increases his efforts, his tongue flicking rapidly over your clit.

"Oh god, I'm gonna cum!" you exclaim, your voice hoarse and raw. Hugh doesn't let up, instead, he redoubles his efforts, determined to push you over the edge. Your body convulses, every muscle tensing as the orgasmic wave crashes over you. You cry out his name, your hips bucking wildly as you ride out the powerful climax.

Hugh continues to lap at your sensitive flesh, drawing out your pleasure, making the orgasm stretch and extend until you're sure you can't take any more. Finally, he pulls away, his face glistening with your juices, and moves up your body, his hard cock pressing against your thigh through his pants.

He leans in, capturing your lips in a hungry kiss. You taste yourself on his tongue, and the sensation sends another shudder of pleasure through your sated body.

"I want you," you whisper against his lips, your voice laced with desire. "I want to feel you inside me."

You lean into him, your dress pooling up at your hips. Breathlessly you grab into Hugh and reach for his belt buckle. Hugh chuckles at your rushed hands, your eyes filled with desire and anticipation. He can see the disappointment in your expression as he gently grabs your hand, stopping you from going any further.

"Hold on, sweetheart," he says, his voice low and gruff. "I want to take my time with you. I don't want this to be just a quick hookup. I want to do this right. To treat you with the respect you deserve."

Hugh gently moves your hands above your head, pinning you to the bed with his strong arms. He gazes down at you, admiring the sight of you underneath him, your dress riding up your hips and your hair spilling across the pillow. His eyes are dark and filled with a passion that is both intense and possessive.

He captures your lips in a deep, passionate kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth as he holds you in place, his body pressed against yours. Hugh continues to shower you with kisses, his hands roaming over your body, as he speaks.*

"So, to do that, I’m going to make you dinner.” He kissed you again between his words. His lips moving to your neck as he murmured, “at my place, on Friday at eight." His teeth graze your skin as he nips at your collarbone, a low growl of desire rumbling in his chest.

"It'll be a proper date. With candlelight and wine and music, the whole nine yards. Just the two of us, enjoying each other's company. Everything you deserve.”

As you smile at Hugh, the mixture of excitement, anticipation, and tenderness in your expression give the impression of being lost in a dreamlike state. It’s as if nothing else exists besides the two of you.

He gives you one last lingering kiss before reluctantly pulling away, knowing that he needs to leave before things get out of hand. He can't help but feel a pang of disappointment as he untangled himself from your embrace, but he knows that this will only make your date on Friday even more special.

You lounge on the bed, propped up and gazing at Hugh with a sultry grin on your face. You tease him as, you sit up and ask saucily, "Okay then. Friday. Will you fuck me then?"

Hugh lets out a rich chuckle, admiring your clever attempt to trap him. He’s well aware that you’re trying to get him to give in, but he’s enjoying this playful game of push and pull.

Hugh pulls you up until you’re standing beside him. He gazes at you with a mixture of desire and affection in his eyes, and with a soft smile, he requests, “Walk me out, darling?”

You give him a sly smirk, determined not to give in so easily this time. You walk past him, making sure to put an extra sway in your hips as you do so, knowing full well that Hugh’s eyes are on you. "Fine," you reply, feigning reluctance as you lead the way towards the door. Hugh follows behind you, his eyes tracing the captivating movement of your hips as you walk. A sly half-smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, and he can’t help but enjoy the sight of you trying to regain the upper hand in this dance of desire.

As Hugh stands on the threshold, preparing to step out into the hallway, you open the door and hold it for him. He starts to turn away, saying his goodnights, but before he can make his exit, you grasp the collar of his shirt with a quick yank, pulling him down to your level. You capture his lips in one more kiss, a brief moment of passion and intensity that leaves you both breathless.

Hugh stands there for a moment, a little dazed. A smile slowly creeps across his face as he takes the moment in. "Goodnight, darling," he replies, his gaze lingering on the closed door you've just disappeared behind.

[pedrithink]

delicate ✩ jude bellingham

about: the massive hate you are getting on internet and the way jude stood by you, supporting you.

couple: jude bellingham x reader! singer

request: hey babyyyy! what do u think about a jude x reader (maybe olivia rodrigo fc) ?? xxx love u

face claim: olivia rodrigo

NOW: Jude’s Bellingham talks ‘Real Madrid’, His first World Cup’s impressions & His favorite Y/N’s songs.

comments ⬇️

user1 he’s so perfect 🥹 yn and him seemed like soulmates

user2 I REMEMBERED WHEN YN POINTED AT JUDE DURING GORGEOUS AND HE TOOK A PHOTO AND SHE WAS ALL GIGGLY

user3 yn once said “you’re so gorgeous, it actually hurts” and “they say home is where the heart is, but that's not where mine lives. you know I love a london boy.”

user4 @user3 im yn

user5 imagine being jude bellingham and having yn write her best love songs and best title tracks about you a DREAM

judebellingham has added to their story

ynusername

Liked by judebellingham, selenagomez, and 5.682.972 others

ynusername vampire song and video out now 🧛🏼. writing this song helped me sort through lots of feelings of regret, anger, and heartache. it's one of my favorite songs on the album and it felt very cathartic to finish. im so happy it's in your hands now and I hope it helps u deal with any bloodsuckers in your lite. all my thanks 4ever 🫶🏻

View all 21.567 comments

judebellingham proud of you, vampie 🧛🏼🩸🥹🫶🏻

ynusername @judebellingham love u babs

user1 vampire is one of the best songs ever

user2 another song about another ex 🥱🙄

user3 @user2 literally let people write out their feelings or WHATEVER they want. obviously yall can only attack women for this tho...

user4 people calling yn boring or overrated for writing songs about her ex does not sit right w me …. like let her write about whatever she wants?? she’s 20??? all singers have songs about their ex’s???? stfu

user5 @user4 SPEAK. ON. IT

user6 "yn makes too much songs ab her ex" "all she write is break up songs, she’s so obsessed"

ok then stop listening to her songs 🤷🏻‍♀️

user7 whaaaaat 😭 why are there so many people mad that yn wrote some songs about her ex. meanwhile, there are men who only write songs about fucking hoes and using drugs and yet they still get praised for it 🥱

judebellingham

Liked by ynusername, masonmount, and 7.899.082 others

judebellingham date night with vampie to celebrate all of her achievements, proud of u ❤️‍🩹

View all 34.872 comments

ynusername 🧛🏻‍♀️🩸❤️‍🩹🧛🏼

user8 JUDE CALLING YN VAMPIE >>>>

user9 i hope i find someone who supports me the way jude supports yn

user10 ill always be soft for these two. its amazing how jude supports yn in any way he can and yn never forgets to save jude a seat. fucking POWER COUPLE!!!

user11 @user10 i just love them

user12 lets talk about the fact that at the 2020 grammys she didn’t feel like there was someone to celebrate with and now she has one and he helps her and supports her and take her on dates when she achieves more and more in her singing career 🥹

user13 yn and jude be like: happiest relationship of my life, so let’s go cheer for my breakup songs together 💕💞💓💗💖💘

ynusername

Liked by judebellingham, arianagrande, and 10.927.526 others

ynusername delicate is out now 🫧 surprise song for y’all, hope u like it 🫶🏻

View all 101.872 comments

user14 delicate video really speaks to me. yn let go of the world's expectations of how she should act, smile and behave. once she did that, she was able to find who she was looking for. i’m shaking and crying, so so proud of our baby!!!!

user15 @user14 it’s already my favorite music video of her!!!! i love the lyrics 2

user16 these pics were taking by jude i’m CRYING and the lyrics… I JUST LOVE HIM EVEN MORE

user17 @user16 yeah 🥹 i’m so happy that she found someone that makes her feel like that

user18 delicate is one of the most beautiful songs yn has ever written, it’s so GENUINE.

[feralgirlfeelings]

★ what kind of music each love & deepspace boy would listen to! ★

hcs of zayne, rafayel, and xavier's music taste ♫꒰･◡･๑꒱

pairing: lnds boys x reader

warnings: none

zayne:

he listens to classical music 90% of the time. it's not because he particularly likes it, but he just got used it after listening to classical music to focus while studying 12 hours a day as a med student. now, in pavlovian fashion, he'll play it while performing surgeries to really get him in the zone. the other 10% is, surprisingly, cutesy kpop girl group songs. think "russian roulette" by red velvet, "magnetic" by illit, and "only" by leehi. he doesn't go out of his way to find these songs, but he'll hear them in passing and get one stuck in his head. he's one of those people that'll get hooked and listen to a song over and over again, especially while he's working out or when he needs an energy boost. he's embarrassed about it, so he'll try to hide it from you, only listening to music with his earbuds in. but there's been times where you catch him:

"zayne, i didn't know you were into red velvet," you stifle a giggle. you hold his phone up to him, the song "russian roulette" on the lock screen. he crosses his arms, ears turning pink, "what's so funny about that? ...it's catchy." "nothing! i just didn't expect that from you," you laugh. you hand him his phone back, "i can teach you the dance, i know it by heart," you tease. "hmm," he raises an eyebrow, an amused look on his face. "i'd like to see that."

xavier:

he likes a few different genres of music, but he tends to like classic rock and alternative the most. some of his favourite songs are "little dark age" by mgmt, "eyes without a face" by billy idol, and "let it happen" by tame impala. he doesn't like to explore new music often and will usually just stick to what he already likes. he'll often blast music through his through his earbuds when he's fighting wanderers alone or when he's trying to stay awake. he's had a lot of time on earth, so his taste spans a lot of different music eras. there's been a few times when he's complained about how he "just doesn't get music nowadays." sometimes he'll show you a super old song and be surprised that you've never heard of it before:

xavier hands you an earbud, the other one in his ear. he shows you a song on his phone that you don't recognize. after a few seconds of listening, you shake your head, "i don't know this one." "really?" xavier looks at you shocked. "this song was huge in the 80s." you hand him back his earbud, "see that's why i don't know it, i'm not 40," you tease. "they just don't make music like this anymore," he sighs. you laugh, "xavier, that makes you sounds so old!' he smiles back at you, "i think those songs are just timeless."

rafayel:

he's into artsy stuff. he's one of those people who listens to a song or album multiples times to dissect and analyze every part of it, appreciating it as an art form. some of his favourite songs include "my love mine all mine" and "washing machine heart" by mitski, as well as "movement" by hozier. he plays music while working on paintings, because apparently, "listening to complex music helps with the artistic process." he also experiences sound-to-colour synesthesia, which explains why the music helps him paint. he has a really pretty singing voice and will often hum or sing his favourite songs, but will get shy when you ask him to sing for you. despite his usual pretentious music taste, he'll occasionally get hooked on some generic top 40s song, like something by drake.

rafayel had been humming the same song over and over again while working on a painting of you. you couldn't help but close your eyes and focus on the melody, "what song is that?" you ask. he pauses from humming, his concentration on his painting unwavering, "my love mine all mine by mitski." "it's nice, i've never heard of it before," you reply. "i'm not surprised, i have spectacular taste, you know," he boasts. you stare at him blankly, "wasn't your top song last year passionfruit?" holding back a laugh. his ears and cheeks turn bright red, "those are never accurate anyways."

[springgirlshowers]

How about the reader and Joost are childhood friends that get split up, but reunite because Joost wants them to be apart of his eurovison team. They realize they miss eachother a lot and confess and happily ever after (⊃｡•́‿•̀｡)⊃

It’s So Sweet

Paring: Joost x GN!Reader (no pronouns used!)

CW: none!

A/N: ahhhhhh this one is so cuuuuuute! i love the childhood friends to lovers trope so much! thank you for the request and i hope you enjoy it <333

masterlist!

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Joost and you were never seen apart as kids. Always walking in the school hallways together, sitting and partnering up in the classes you had together. Constantly hanging out after school and on the weekends. You two were basically connected at the hip.

Until your family gave you the news you would be moving to Sweden. Something to do with a better job opportunity. You begged for them not to, to move somewhere where you currently were at least. Though you knew your pleas wouldn’t do much.

Before you left, Joost and you exchanged emails. To keep in touch while you two would be apart.

You did for awhile. But as you both got older, your emails to each other took longer. It would be weeks, months, before you replied to each other.

Until they just stopped completely. You two had gotten too caught up into your adulthood. You hadn’t returned to your hometown since you moved away.

Joost fell into a successful career as a musician. You getting yours as a dancer.

It’s been years since you and him talked.

Your heart nearly stopped once you saw the notification when you were on the bus after a rehearsal.

joostklein has requested to follow you.

His profile picture was a picture of him as a toddler. The one you’ve seen so many times before, hanging on the wall in his living room when you went over to hangout after school.

You looked through his account, he almost looked the exact same as he did when he was a preteen. Only his body was scattered in tattoos, he had grown a mustache, much taller, and his hair was dyed into a nearly white color and cut into a mullet.

His most recent posts were a reel revealing how he’d be representing the Netherlands in the next Eurovision competition, and another video revealing the date his song for the event would be released.

Minutes after you accepted the request and followed him back, he messaged you.

It was a simple question, asking if you were the same one he knew as a kid. You responded, telling him you were.

The texts following after that were a little bit awkward. Soon the tension between you both was gone, you told each about what you’ve been doing for the past years, how they’d gone, what you’ve been doing now.

After exchanging phone numbers, the texts turned into calls, then video chats.

You listened to his songs, almost going through every single one of his albums in one night.

You were surprised by a lot of the lyrics, by how the innocent boy with a side swept haircut you once knew, was now singing about having sex with women to a mario kart remixed beat and saying “suck my dick bitch” multiple times in another song.

You honestly found them catchy, however you realized they were better to listen to with earbuds in or alone, rather than in any public place.

However, the lyrics in other songs were more heart breaking. God, soul shattering even.

“Maybe it was wrong. But I miss us, I miss home.”

“My dad who was laying there, seen but no authority. We'll see by the days, we don't say goodbye. My mom who was laying there, I often think about that day.”

“Hey, I have a disease, it's a very specific one. I always panic and they have no therapies.”

“But still it hurts. Am running from myself. Cry the entire day for "help"

Joost would show you his tattoos, the ones he already had and the ones he wanted to get in the future, drawings he made, but he refused to show you the idea concepts for his Eurovision costume.

He told you he wanted it to be a surprise.

The day before he revealed his outfit to the rest of the world. He called you during a work break, telling you he had to show you something.

You opened the video call to see him standing there in a big bright blue suit with extremely pointy shoulders.

You felt bad when you let out a laugh, slapping your hand over your mouth to muffle it.

“You like it?” He asked, posing goofily.

“Yeah. It’s very…silly. Very big.” His grin only grew larger at your words.

“Perfect. That’s exactly what I was aiming for.” He smiled and sat down.

“So, your other friends, one of them is gonna dress up as a bird? And the other is gonna wear a clip on ponytail?”

“Yep!” He pipped. You just laughed and shook your head. He cleared his throat, his face on the screen looking nervous all of the sudden.

“So, you told me you still dance.”

“Yeah! I do group shows and stuff.” You nodded, placing your head on your fist.

“That’s great, very great. Um, do you still hakken?” You were a bit taken aback, confused by why he was asking about that specific dance.

“Uh yeah. But usually jokingly, like when I’m with friends.” You bit at your thumbnail. “Did you ever learn?”

“Yeah! I’ve gotten pretty good at it.” He chuckled, going silent for a minute after. “I’m wondering if you would perform with me, like on the stage. I need another back up dancer. And you’ve always been so talented at it.” His words made you blush, but you were still a bit unsure on what he was asking you.

“So, um, you want me to do the hakken dance with you? At your performance?” You felt nervous, when you did the dance you usually did it after a night of drinking to make your friends laugh.

“Only if you want to! I mean, we could meet up, I’m in Sweden now.”

“What?” You shouted, cringing at how loud it was.

“Yeah, i’ve been here to do interviews and all that stuff.” He scratched at his arms, a bit embarrassed he didn’t tell you earlier about this.

“You really don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” He spoke, “Its free of charge for you, you’ll get paid for it. If that persuades you.” He added on, joking.

“I’ll do it for free.” Maybe your answer was a bit too quick, maybe it was impulsive. But you really wanted to see Joost again, you’d jump at any chance you could see him.

The both of you agreed to meet up a few days later at a park not far from where you lived.

The park was quite empty, most likely due to the fact the sun was already going down, an orange gradient filling the sky.

You nervously walked up to him, he was sitting on a bench. He looked so familiar yet so different. It gave you a strange sense of nostalgia.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” He immediately grinned as he saw you. You sat down next to him.

The sunset cast a golden glow on his face, making his blue eyes so much more prominent, his face was so gorgeous.

“So you’ll really dance with me?”

“Yeah, why not.” You shrugged, completely unbothered by his question.

“You’ll be on a giant stage in front of thousands of people. You’ll be on TV with the entirety of Europe watching.” Joost felt nervous, he didn’t want to pressure you into doing this, he really wanted you to be there with himz But he wasn’t gonna force you into something you had no interest for.

“I’ve never been one for stage fright.” You smiled, the sweetness in your expression made his worries begin to drift away.

“Perfect.” He looked down at his feet, smiling so hard his cheeks begin to hurt, “I’ll text you the schedules and everything you need to know.”

“Cool.” You looked down at your shoes as well. Enjoying the comfortable silence and soft breeze of the air.

“I really missed you.” He spoke out, added your name to the sentence, making it more impacting. You looked at him, jaw ajar in admiration.

“I missed you too.” You said softly, placing your hand over his. Soon wrapping it around his. You both sat there for a few minutes like that.

“I’ve been thinking of moving back.” You broke the silence. “To the Netherlands, that is.”

“Really?” Joost looked at you, a mixture of amazement and shock in his face.

“Yeah. A company reached out to me, giving me a job opportunity. Really good pay, positive reviews, a safe workplace.” It felt funny, you were thinking about coming back to your hometown for the same reason your family made you leave.

“That’s great! You should take it!”

“I probably will. It seems promising.” You squeezed his hand. “And it’d be nice to be close to you again.” You added on, pursing your lips to try and hold back a smile, it failed.

“Yeah, yeah, that would be nice.” He murmured,“Um, I should get going, early TV interviews tomorrow.”

You nodded, getting up before he did.

“Just text me what channel you’ll be on, i’ll make sure to watch for you.” You said, a little bit too excitedly.

“Yeah, yeah, I will! I’ll see you later.” He chuckled.

“I’ll be in the Netherlands in a month most likely, just so you know. See you, Joost.” You turned, only getting a few steps in before his voice stopped you, causing you look back at him.

“There’s this really great ice cream parlor that opened up there, maybe we could, uh, go there when you’re back, if you’d like?” He cleared his throat.

“I’ll be going back in a month too, just for a little bit before I have to come here again.” He fiddled with his fingers.

“Awesome then, it’s a date.”

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

[trashart00]

Less than 12 hours until the release of “The Tortured Poets Department”!

Hence, I present to you, “The Tortured Catboy Department”

Track List:

SIDE A: Deux Semaines (feat Ladybug) / The Tortured Catboy Department / My Lady Abandons Only Her Favourite Partners / Down Bad

SIDE B: So Long, London / But Daddy I Love Her / Fresh Out the Slammer / Akuma !!! (feat Monarch)

SIDE C: Guilty As Sin? / Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me / Even Ladybug Can’t Fix This / loml

SIDE D: I Can Do It With a Broken Heart / The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived / The Cataclysm / Adrien Agreste

Bonus Tracks: The Black Cat / Solitude / Doppelgänger / Tell-Tail Heart

(Love how so many of the original track names still work)

My takes of what each song is about/inspired by under cut (but, if you feel like it, tell me yours :D)

I’m picturing all of these to be from Adrien’s perspective so they reflect mostly his version of the situations rather than the objective reality (especially the Laybug centered ones)

Deux Semaines (feat Ladybug): This one would focus on the sequence in Multiplication where Monarch doesn’t attack and how LadyNoir’s relationship recovers from the events of Season 4.

TTCD: Kept the “Catboy” singular because while there are multiple Catboy identities, there is only one boy underneath them all. Hence while I think it would be about him just stating his issues with everything, it would also focus on loneliness and how his department is understaffed :(

MLAOHFP: All of the Season 4 LadyNoir separation arc angst, with the “Favourite” being a callback to Risk (and kinda a jab at Rena because he thinks that she’s really her favourite, but y’ know, she didn’t abandon her so Rena can’t be her actual favourite)

Down Bad: Mainly about how Chat’s love for LB makes him excuse her behaviors, but also makes him act out (maybe a reference to Elation).

SL,L: About the whole arc of Gabriel sending Adrien to London and all of the memories he would have surrounding this ordeal - key point, not “So Long, Paris” because he didn’t want to leave, and in the end he comes back to a changed world.

BDILH: This one’s either about the Chat Blanc breakup or Gabriel’s dislike of Marinette in Season 5 (or both, with maybe a line about how he feels like this has happened before)

FOTS: Adrien realizing his father is a Bad Person.

Akuma !!! (feat Monarch): This one would be like a song about his daily life and then the chorus would start with a shout of “Akuma!!!” and it would switch to him as Chat Noir. I feel like it would start out with normal life being boring/hero life being fun but as it goes on he grows exhausted. Monarch has a rap verse.

Guilty As Sin?: Chat Blanc centeric - would ask who is to blame for the destruction of the world, like is it Chat because he lost control or Hawkmoth because he took advantage of his son’s emotion?

WAoLOM: Chat Blanc centric at first (like a villain song) but ends with Adrien reflecting on the events of Evolution-Destruction-Multiplication-PS night

ELCFT: I think it would be about his relaction ship with his father and how he wishes there was something he could do to go back to how they were when Emilie was alive but there’s no easy fix and his father keeps on getting worse and worse after any attempt.

loml: A song for Marinette with a bittersweet air - she’s the love of his life but he can’t tell her everything, and she can’t tell him everything either

ICDIWaBH: CatWalker centric - him going back to Ladybug in Kuroneko.

TSMWEL: I actually have three for this one - 1. About Gabriel and his need to domineer because he feels small and powerless. 2. About Adrien feeling small and insignificant. 3.About Plagg because he’s a smol boi (it would be like a lighthearted, cheeky song, like when you sing to your pet about how adorable they are)

The Cataclysm: Literally about how he cataclysmed Monarch, but also about how the event impacted his perception of self.

Adrien Agreste: Ending the album with a song that’s his own name :o.

Now for the variants:

The Black Cat: This one has Chat on the cover and the song is mostly about his bad luck. ‘I Love You It’s Ruining My Life” works both directed at Ladybug and his father.

Solitude: With Chat Blanc on the cover, this one’s about his mother. I think the “You Don’t Get To Tell Me About Sad” is pretty self-explanatory.

Doppelgänger: CatWalker is on this one, his song would be about how he may literally be the same person but he doesn’t fully feel like himself. He had to repress a lot of himself to be CatWalker hence I thought “Am I Allowed To Cry?” fit him really well (especially with Plagg not giving him the time to fully recover before he had to jump back in). Please note the crossed out name (unlike Chat Blanc) because he’s reinventing himself.

Tell-Tail Heart: This one has Ladybug on the cover - wait she’s not a Catboy?? The song is titled “Tell-Tail Heart” as a reference to Edgar Allan Poe’s “Tell Tale Heart” and would explore Chat’s perspective of Ladybug’s guilt for keeping secrets, how any excuse she makes is ultimately unimportant because she would do it either way. The fact that this is the only song title with a pun references how Chat tries to lighten the mood and avoid serious conversations, and the “Tail” is supposed to refer to Rena Rouge. The flowers she’s holding are meant to be foxgloves which symbolise secrets and insincerity (they’re also poisonous and damage the heart :)). I also really liked the “Old Habits Die Screaming” for her as it could mean both Chat Noir’s love for her being an old habit that he cannot get rid of, but also her habit of keeping things from him (especially with how she does it again at the end of season 5) being something she can’t stop. It is also him being able to see that, despite what she tells him, her “Heart” is tells him otherwise.

(also would like to point out that he wouldn’t mention Rena by name, he’s upset, not evil)

[luvtak]

if you had forever, lfx x reader

✰ genre/tw fluff! a little hurt comfort? kisses, pet names, unedited <3

✰ w/c 1197

✰ hi my loves!! this one has been in my docs for six weeks now loll and as yesterday was my 21 birthday I felt now was the perfect time to post it!! i love you all 🤍

The air was hot, starting fires on your skin where the water didn’t touch, rising up and down your calf as the waves came and receded. Even with your eyes closed you could see it, blue green water rushing closer and closer until it falls back, that familiar shhhh rising in your ears as the salt-water reaches your legs. Skin sticky from sand and sunscreen, goosebumps rising on your thighs… cold water running down your legs like your lover's hands. Your friends sing along to the music flowing from half-broken speakers, a simple pop song from your childhood that everyone knows the words to. 

You can hear them singing along, voices mingling together as they follow the chorus–good, bad, and gravelly; the song of summer. 

Even from the outskirts of the party, you can feel the joy seeping into your sun bitten skin, mingling into the bluesy sadness that’s crept up on you. All the laughter, all the smiles remind you of fuzzy pictures of adolescence, here one day gone the next. Days just like this, nothing but a photo in a long forgotten album, waiting for this one to join them. 

Your boyfriend is around here somewhere, enjoying the salt air and the fast-paced sound of his youth. You came here together, but you haven’t seen him since your first drink–about three drinks ago. He’s probably somewhere with Chris or Jisung, getting into trouble… He’s probably having the time of his life, smiling that smile that rivals the sun, and giggling at his friends. He probably looks beautiful. 

It’s this reason why you’re yearning for him, staring into the wide expanse of the ocean and begging for him to show himself soon. The last drink seems to be working its way through your veins with the unwanted guest of melancholy; tainting your blood with the familiar fear that this will be the last time you do this. If Felix was here he’d hold you close and smile away the doubts, he’d remind you that as long as he loves you there’ll be beach days and good friends, oceans and laughter. If Felix was here, you wouldn’t be so sad, but you can’t seem to find him.  

You’ve always been adept at the blues, wearing your sadness like it was a career rather than a fleeting feeling. Anxiety pooling in your belly like a sick desire for the worst to come, worries tickling your tongue, and pounding through your brain. The feeling eating at you now is one your know well–it’s the sinking acknowledgment of time moving, the melody of birthdays and holidays past, a happiness that is so diluted with sadness that the joy barely exists. 

It's hard to explain why blue skies and your friend's voices make you sad, maybe it’s the tide turning… A siren song reminding you to hold them close. You wish you could find your boy, bury the listless worries into his chest, and rise again clear headed. 

Countless minutes have passed by, just staring at the water, watching the waves pull in and ease itself back out. Breathing in and out in time with the tide, one with the living sea. 

You hear him before you see him, the quick steps through the sand and his deep breath alerting you to his presence. The one person you wanted to see, staring at you like it's not your heart he’s made a home out of, like you’re just a pretty girl he wants to take a bite out of. 

He’s devastating to look at, gorgeous and dreamy like a prince out of a storybook. A boy so beautiful he must’ve been born from the sun; radiant and blinding, and somehow he belongs to you. 

The stars are peeking over the waves now, blinking down at you like his eyes when he first wakes up; the friendliest constellations you’ve ever seen. 

“What’ya doing all the way out here?” his voice, brings a warm pool of light to sit in your gut. Oh how special this boy is.

“Nothing, just needed a couple seconds to myself.” you say. 

“Does that mean you want me to go?” 

“Never.” 

Felix’s eyes, impish and fairylike, are alight with mischief. He’s looking at you like he’ll trick you and tease you and make you fall in love with him before the sun comes up, as if you weren’t already. His body hasn’t moved an inch, made no move to touch you, yet the way his gaze rakes over you mirrors all the times he’s felt your skin before. You can almost feel him, wrapping his hands around you and settling his rosebud smile down your neck. 

With catlike grace, he moves closer, settling himself down next to you in the sand, and still he won’t touch you. 

“Did you get sad again, Honey?” he’s slightly slurring, sliding one word into the next, but the warmth in his voice pierces your heart. You’re not sure how to answer, was it sadness? Really you think you missed him, yearned for his company in such a silly way that sucked all the happiness out of your lungs; took too many shots of nostalgia without his hand to hold and had to sit down. 

“Just a little, but it’s better now that you’re with me.” 

“My love, I’m always with you.” 

You’re shocked, not for the first time, at the casual way he confesses his love to you. Speaking words of romance as easily as muttering off a grocery list–It’s the sincerity that gets you, the full body awareness that this is the truth.

 At once, your arms slide over his shoulders and rest against his neck; breathing in the assurance that his scent gives. He responds in seconds, so fast you think this is what he’s been waiting for–waiting to touch you until you grasped for him. His hold is tight andeverything you’ve ever wanted, and his heart is beating so fast. 

In his kiss is every wish you’ve ever made, safe and seductive all at once. 

“I love you so much” murmured in between kisses, and you don’t know who says them. All you know is the feel of his lips on your skin–the spellbinding way he unspools you, untangling anything else but him from your mind. 

There's no way you can go back to the party after this, covered in sand and kisses; drunk on Felix and his liquid courage, yet no part of you longs for home. You would stay like this, breathing his air and warming his bones. 

If you had forever, every day would be like this–in love and dreaming into him. If you had forever you’d double not his veins to yours and live inside his skin… If you had forever, every moment would be this kiss. 

Yet time keeps moving, and eventually the sand cools and the music is turned down. Felix moves away, close enough his nose swipes against yours, but far enough you can’t catch his grin. He’s smiling that perfect smile, the one that sinks ships in your belly and brings home to your heart. 

“Should we go home, My love?” he asks.

And who are you to refuse him?

LUVTAK © 2023

[eddiediazismyhusband]

Married Buddie Headcanons

==========

This came about from an ask by @mattsire and I have FINALLY gotten around to sitting down and typing them out— i would like everyone to know i now have a note in my notes app full of these with no context

==========

- everyone assumed buck would be the bridezilla, but in reality he was pretty tame compared to eddie who using the subtle excuse of “i never got to do this with my first wedding” to get his way on everything

- buck constantly made suggestive jokes about their wedding night in the weeks leading up to it, but when the night finally got there, buck passed out as soon as they reached the hotel room; eddie thought this was super adorable

- they don’t spoon in bed; they will spoon on the couch watching tv (alternating big spoon/little spoon) but when they lay down to sleep, they prefer to face each other so that the last thing they see before sleep and the first thing they see when they wake up is each other

- buck wakes up first every morning to make breakfast— he’s a big morning person anyway and he loves to cook for his boys— he absentmindedly hums or lightly sings as he cooks breakfast, and eddie will stand in the dining room, hiding behind the wall, to listen. buck has never caught him to this day.

- buck loves driving and eddie hates it, so more often than not eddie is buck’s passenger princess in the Jeep.

- eddie remains very professional when they are at work; there is the occasional stolen kiss, hand holding under the table, kiss on the cheek/forehead, but for the most part they stick to simply sitting next to each other whenever they can- their knees often pressing together. At home, however, eddie hangs off buck like a koala; as soon as he realized his feelings for buck, he could not get enough of touching/holding on to buck as often as he could, whether it be holding hands at dinner, wrapping his arms around buck from behind and tucking his chin over buck’s shoulder (or vice versa), cuddling on the couch, laying his head in buck’s lap, leaning his head on buck’s shoulder

- buck and eddie cannot agree on a shower temperature; they have only attempted the forray into sharing one time and ended up bickering about the temperature before eddie gave up and let buck win— they’ve never tried since

- eddie slips into saying spanish sweet-nothings to buck constantly, buck taking the time to learn all of them whenever he heard a new one

- buck will sometimes pull eddie close in his sleep so that their chests lie flush against each other and he can feel eddie’s heartbeat.

- they love going all out for their anniversary; fancy restaurant, night at a hotel, grand gestures. eddie likes to spoil buck and buck lets him because he knows how much eddie likes it

- buck is intento on following the anniversary gift list by year; hiding a secret clipboard on which he plans all future gifts for eddie as new ideas come to him (for their first anniversary, buck had gotten eddie a paper-scrap art piece that was a portrait of chris)

- eddie followed the anniversary gift list for their first anniversary only when he gifted buck official adoption papers for chris

- eddie kept his paper vows and keeps them in an antique box that was passed down from his abuelo; alongside it he keeps a small wallet-size photo that buck had taken of them early on in their friendship

- buck made a scrapbook photo album of their wedding and keeps it displayed on the coffee table as a coffee table book

- ik some people like the buckley-diaz hyphenation (and i am absolutely not against that at all) but i am one of the Buck Diaz girlies who hc’s that he drops Buckley altogether

- he and eddie have complimentary tattoos on their ring fingers; buck has an “E” for eddie, and eddie has a “B” for buck.

- buck also got a linework tattoo based on a photo of him, eddie, and chris tattooed on the left side of his chest, over his heart; in the same spot, eddie has “e-c-b”

- they both have their wedding date tattooed under their chest ones

- even after a fight, they don’t sleep apart, because buck has nightmares and can only be grounded by eddie holding him; eddie has nightmares too, but they are less frequent than buck’s

- their wedding bands are simply gold bands, but inside they are engraved; inside buck’s it says “have my back any day” and inside eddie’s it says “and you can have mine”