#Ella Miracle | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

goldfades · 6 months ago

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★ 'cause she's watching him with those eyes / and she's loving him with that body, i just know it / and he's holding her in his arms late, late at night / you know, i wish that i had jessie's girl / i wish that i had jessie's girl / where can i find a woman like that? ───JB⁹

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 18k (a lot more than i expected...)

⟢ ┈ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | a college student navigates her complicated feelings for her charming yet infuriating neighbor, joe burrow, while dating the seemingly perfect linebacker. after a series of missteps, flirtatious teasing, and an unexpected kiss, she finds herself caught in a whirlwind of tension, confusion, and unexpected sparks, all while trying to avoid the loud, chaotic presence of joe and his ever-constant parade of girls.

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | unedited (sorry... i got lazy), NSFW (with lots... and lots... AND LOTS of plot), unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it, kids) praise, teasing, lots of kissing/foreplay, p in v, uhhh.. descriptions of big dick joe??? enemies to lovers, roommates, mentions of drinking/alcohol, cheating (not on reader), joe being an asshole, cocky joe, lots of fighting, heated arguments.

⟢ ┈ 𝐞𝐯'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 | this has been in my drafts for a good 2 months and finally decided to finish it up on the sunday before american thanksgiving! so... yaya! please let me know your thoughts!

The muffled sound of Ja’Marr Chase’s bass-heavy playlist seeps through the thin walls of your apartment, rattling the picture frames you swore you hung up straight last week. The tiny LSU apartment complex, with its peeling beige paint and eternally broken elevator, has its charms—like the way the front door doesn’t lock unless you kick it just right or how the air conditioner only works when it’s below 70 degrees outside.

But Joe Burrow? He’s not one of those charms.

No, Joe Burrow is the bane of your existence, the human equivalent of a pothole on a road you have to take every day. His name alone makes your best friend, Ella, roll her eyes so hard it’s a miracle they don’t get stuck in the back of her head. “Just ignore him,” she says every time you come storming through the door, ranting about whatever fresh annoyance he’s cooked up that day. “He only bothers you because you’re fun to mess with.”

Right. Like that’s supposed to make it better.

Living next door to Joe and Ja’Marr was tolerable at first. Sure, they were loud, occasionally messy, and probably violating a dozen lease terms, but it wasn’t personal. Then, you had one small misunderstanding—okay, so maybe you yelled at Joe for leaving his bike in front of your door after you tripped over it—and now it’s like he’s made it his life’s mission to drive you insane.

Sometimes, it’s harmless: an obnoxious smirk when you cross paths on the way to class or his sarcastic comments about how you always seem to be spilling coffee on your shirt. Other times, it’s borderline infuriating: stealing your parking spot, taking the last box of cinnamon rolls at the grocery store, or claiming the shared apartment complex grill for “official game day business” every single Saturday.

Still, there’s something annoyingly magnetic about him, even when you want to wring his neck. The way his eyes crinkle when he’s laughing at his own jokes. The stupid mop of curls he somehow manages to pull off. The effortless confidence that borders on cocky, though you’d never say it out loud because that’s exactly the kind of thing that would go straight to his head.

Ella always jokes that you two are like an old married couple, constantly bickering but secretly loving it. You disagree. Mostly because Joe already has enough people falling at his feet—like the swarm of girls in purple-and-gold jerseys who show up at the apartment complex every other week, giggling like they’re auditioning for a reality show.

You sigh, brushing a stray crumb off the countertop as Ella flops onto the couch behind you, textbook in hand. And if his stupid grin when he sees you on your balcony later tonight is any indication, he’s already got something planned.

You just don’t know it yet.

The parking lot outside your apartment complex is a war zone at 11 p.m., with far too many cars crammed into a space that was clearly designed with only half the residents in mind. You circle the lot for the third time, your headlights cutting through the dark like a searchlight on some hopeless mission. After eight grueling hours at the campus library helping undergrads figure out why their printers are possessed, your brain feels like oatmeal, and all you want is to collapse into your bed.

But, of course, tonight isn’t going to be that simple.

Because there he is. Joe freaking Burrow.

He’s in his Jeep—windows down, music playing softly, and, naturally, there’s a blonde perched in the passenger seat laughing at something he said. Of course, he found the last available spot. Except—it’s not his spot, because you saw it first. Your blinker’s been on since the beginning of time (or at least the last 30 seconds), and you refuse to back down now.

Your grip tightens on the steering wheel as he slowly starts to reverse into the spot, like he hasn’t noticed your very obvious claim to it. Heart pounding with a mix of exhaustion and indignation, you tap your horn. Just once. Polite, but firm. He stops, glances in his rearview mirror, and then—of course—he smirks.

Oh, hell no.

You roll down your window and lean out. “Hey, Burrow! I was waiting for that spot.”

He leans his elbow casually against the window frame, his curls catching the faint glow of the streetlight. “Were you? Didn’t see your name on it.” His voice is slow, lazy, like he’s got all the time in the world to be a pain in your ass.

You glare at him, barely suppressing the urge to snap. “I was here first.”

“And I started reversing first,” he counters, raising an eyebrow like it’s a debate class and not a parking lot at nearly midnight. The blonde giggles beside him, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. “Just let me have it. You look like you could use the exercise.”

Oh, he’s done it now.

“Excuse me?” Your voice comes out sharper than you intended, but you’re too far gone to care. “I’ve been on my feet for eight hours dealing with entitled freshmen, and if you think I’m about to let you—”

“Alright, alright,” Joe interrupts, hands raised in mock surrender. “Relax, I’m not trying to ruin your night.” He throws the Jeep into drive, and with a dramatic sigh, he pulls away, leaving the spot open for you. But not without one last parting comment. “Don’t scratch the paint when you park. Oh, wait—you’re really close to that pole—”

You park with excessive precision, throwing your car into park before leaning out the window to call after him. “I didn’t ask for your help, Joe!”

His laugh echoes across the parking lot, carefree and infuriating. You slam your door shut a little harder than necessary, adjusting your bag on your shoulder as you trudge toward the building. Finally, peace.

Or so you think.

Because just as you reach the elevator, its ding announcing its arrival, you hear the telltale sound of sneakers scuffing against concrete and—because your luck is absolute trash—Joe freaking Burrow strolls in behind you, Blonde Giggles McGee still glued to his side.

“Hey, neighbor,” he says casually, stepping into the elevator with you like he didn’t just steal and relinquish a parking spot out of sheer pettiness. The blonde gives you a wide, vaguely clueless smile, her gum snapping between her teeth.

You press the button for the third floor with a pointed jab and cross your arms, leaning against the elevator wall as Joe and his date take their sweet time figuring out which floor they’re going to. The door finally slides shut, and the tension in the small space is unbearable.

“So,” the blonde says brightly, flipping her hair over her shoulder, “you guys, like, live here? That’s so fun! Like, neighbors and stuff. Wow.”

Your lips press into a tight smile, trying to avoid eye contact with Joe, who you can feel grinning at you like this is the highlight of his week. “Yep. Fun,” you reply curtly, forcing the word out like it’s laced with acid.

Joe’s shoulders shake slightly, and you realize he’s laughing. He glances at you, and there’s that damn smirk again, like he knows exactly how close you are to losing it. “She’s real talkative tonight,�� he says, tilting his head toward you. “Usually, she’s got more to say.”

You turn to him with a withering glare. “Don’t you have something else to do, Burrow?”

Before he can reply, the elevator lurches slightly as it comes to a stop on your floor. You step out quickly, muttering a polite “Good night” that is entirely devoid of warmth. Joe follows, his pace annoyingly casual as he throws one last look over his shoulder.

“See you around, neighbor,” he says, and you can hear the grin in his voice.

You don’t look back.

The smell of cheap ramen hits you the moment you open the door to your apartment. It’s comforting, in a way—familiar, like Ella’s answer to every late-night craving or bad day. She’s in the kitchen, stirring a pot on the stove, barefoot and wearing the oversized LSU sweatshirt you’d bought together during freshman year.

“You’re late,” she says without looking up, her voice light with mock reproach. “Was the library on fire, or did you stop to fight Burrow in the parking lot again?”

You kick off your shoes with a sigh, tossing your bag onto the couch. “Option B. Obviously.”

That gets her attention. She turns, spoon in hand, eyebrows raised. “Seriously? It’s, like, midnight. You two are going to give each other aneurysms before graduation.”

You slump into one of the kitchen chairs, letting your forehead hit the table dramatically. “He stole my parking spot. Had the audacity to smirk about it, too. And then—get this—I got stuck in the elevator with him and some girl who wouldn’t stop talking about how ‘fun’ it is to have neighbors.” You lift your head to glare at Ella, who is now struggling to hold back a laugh. “I’m cursed. That man is my curse.”

Ella snorts, pouring the ramen into two mismatched bowls. “He’s not your curse. He’s just a guy with too much charm and not enough common sense. And clearly, you’re living rent-free in his head, which, honestly, is kind of impressive considering he’s got a playbook in there.”

You accept the bowl she slides across the table, your stomach growling despite your lingering irritation. “I don’t want to live in his head. I want him to stop being so… so Joe all the time.”

Ella sits across from you, propping her chin in her hand with a sly grin. “Are you sure? You seem to spend a lot of time talking about him.”

You glare at her over a mouthful of noodles. “Don’t start.”

But she’s already started, her grin widening. “I’m just saying, it’s giving sexual tension.”

You nearly choke, coughing as you wave her off. “Nope. Absolutely not. There’s no tension. Only irritation. And rage. And an overwhelming desire to see him move to a different apartment complex.”

Ella laughs, leaning back in her chair. “Whatever you say, babe. But for the record, I think you secretly enjoy it.”

You open your mouth to argue, but before you can form a retort, there’s a knock at the door. Both of you freeze, staring at each other like deer caught in headlights.

“You expecting someone?” Ella whispers, her tone suddenly conspiratorial.

“No,” you whisper back, your heart sinking as a horrible suspicion creeps over you.

Ella gestures for you to check, and with a deep, resigned breath, you shuffle to the door, bowl still in hand. You crack it open just enough to see who’s on the other side, and—because the universe apparently hates you—there he is. Joe Burrow, in all his smug, infuriating glory, holding a box of cinnamon rolls.

“Hey, neighbor,” he says, his grin infuriatingly wide. “Figured I owed you something for stealing your spot.”

You stare at him, speechless, for a moment. Then, finally, you manage, “It’s 11:30 at night.”

He shrugs, as if that’s a perfectly reasonable time for a peace offering. “Better late than never, right?”

From behind you, Ella’s voice rings out, barely containing her amusement. “Is that Joe? Invite him in!”

You turn to glare at her, silently vowing revenge, but when you look back at Joe, he’s already stepping inside like he owns the place.

“Nice place,” he says, glancing around before holding up the box. “So… cinnamon roll?”

You sigh, shutting the door behind him. It’s going to be a long night.

Joe leans casually against the counter, still holding the box of cinnamon rolls like he’s been invited to stay for a late-night hangout. You narrow your eyes at him, folding your arms. “So, what’s this about, really? Cinnamon rolls aren’t exactly your style.”

“Wow, judgmental much?” he says with a mock-wounded expression. “What if I just wanted to be neighborly?”

Ella snickers softly behind you, spooning up her ramen as she watches the exchange like it’s prime-time TV.

Joe grins, ignoring your skepticism. “Actually,” he says, setting the box on the counter with a little too much flourish, “I’m out of sugar. You wouldn’t happen to have any, would you?”

You blink at him, incredulous. “Sugar? You came over at almost midnight to borrow sugar?”

“Yup,” he says, popping the “p” for emphasis, completely unbothered by your glare.

Ella, ever the peacemaker—or enabler, depending on the situation—sets her bowl down and gets up to rummage through the cabinets. “We’ve got some,” she says reluctantly, pulling out a small bag. She walks over and places it in Joe’s outstretched hand, but not without narrowing her eyes at him. “You better bring this back, Burrow. Or at least repay us with something better than cinnamon rolls.”

“Noted,” he says with a charming smile, tucking the bag under his arm. He turns to you, his grin softening into something almost teasing. “Thanks, neighbor. You’re a real lifesaver.”

You don’t bother replying, instead stepping aside so he can leave. He makes his way to the door, pausing for a moment. “Oh, and don’t forget to check your parking job in the morning,” he says with a wink before slipping out into the hallway.

The second the door clicks shut, you groan, slumping against the counter. Ella bursts into laughter, practically doubling over as she grabs her bowl again. “You two are ridiculous,” she says between bites.

“I’m moving out,” you mutter, dragging yourself to the couch. “I don’t care if it’s to a cardboard box in the quad. It’ll be quieter than this.”

You think that’s the end of it—Joe’s random sugar-borrowing adventure, Ella’s endless teasing—but of course, you’re wrong. Because a few hours later, just as you’re finally starting to drift off in the tiny bedroom you call your sanctuary, you hear it.

A muffled giggle. A low, rumbling voice you’d recognize anywhere. Then, unmistakably, the rhythmic creak of a bed frame against the wall.

Your eyes snap open, and for a moment, you pray you’re imagining things. Maybe it’s a nightmare—a cruel joke your overtired brain is playing on you. But then you hear it again, louder this time, followed by a very enthusiastic “Oh my God, Joey!”

You groan, grabbing your pillow and pressing it over your ears.

From the other side of the wall, Ella’s muffled voice reaches you through the darkness. “Is that…?”

“Yes,” you hiss, your voice barely audible through the pillow. “It’s him.”

She snorts, and you can hear her shifting in her bed. “Well, at least he’s getting good use out of that sugar.”

You let out a strangled laugh, torn between exhaustion and disbelief. “I swear, if this goes on all night—”

As if on cue, there’s another creak, louder this time, followed by more giggling and exaggerated moaning.

Ella sighs. “Thin walls, huh?”

“Apparently,” you mutter, rolling onto your side and glaring at the wall like it’s personally offended you.

The noises continue—giggles, muffled moans, the occasional thud that makes you wince. You bury your face in your pillow, silently cursing Joe Burrow and his audacity.

It’s going to be a very, very long night.

The next morning comes too soon. Despite the symphony of creaks, giggles, and thuds that plagued the night, you manage to drag yourself out of bed, bleary-eyed and cranky. The coffee pot sputters as you pour yourself a life-saving cup, muttering curses at your neighbor under your breath. Ella, still in her pajamas, watches you from the couch with an amused smirk.

“You look alive,” she teases, spooning cereal into her mouth. “Barely.”

“I hate him,” you say flatly, taking a long sip of coffee.

“Sure you do,” she singsongs.

You don’t dignify her with a response, grabbing your bag and heading out the door.

As luck—or fate—would have it, the universe isn’t done with you yet. Because just as you’re locking your apartment door, you hear the unmistakable sound of high heels clicking down the hallway.

You glance over your shoulder and immediately regret it.

There she is. Last night’s Blonde of the Hour, strutting toward the elevator with a walk of shame so confident it might as well be a victory lap. She’s wearing Joe’s oversized LSU hoodie, paired with last night’s skirt and heels. Her hair is tousled, but she doesn’t seem to care.

And because the universe apparently has a sense of humor, she notices you at the same time you notice her.

“Morning!” she chirps, her voice way too chipper for someone who clearly didn’t sleep much.

You press your lips together to keep from laughing, nodding in acknowledgment. “Morning.”

The two of you step into the elevator together, the silence stretching awkwardly between you. You steal a glance at her from the corner of your eye, wondering if she has any idea that her night of “fun” ruined yours. But then she sighs and adjusts the sleeves of Joe’s hoodie, completely unbothered, and you realize she probably doesn’t care.

The doors slide open to the lobby, and you step out first, your pace brisk as you make a beeline for the exit. But as you push through the glass doors into the bright morning sunlight, you nearly collide with none other than Joe Burrow himself.

He’s leaning against his car, coffee cup in hand, looking far too put together for someone who should be as tired as you. His eyes widen slightly when he sees you, then flick over to the blonde trailing behind.

“Morning, neighbor,” he says, his voice laced with amusement.

“Morning,” you reply dryly, brushing past him toward your car.

But of course, he can’t just let it go. “Sleep well?”

You stop dead in your tracks, turning to glare at him. His smirk is infuriatingly smug, and you can’t tell if he’s genuinely clueless or just messing with you.

“Thin walls,” you say pointedly, raising an eyebrow.

His smirk falters for half a second before he recovers, lifting his coffee cup in a mock toast. “Noted.”

The blonde, oblivious to the tension, giggles. “Joe, you didn’t tell me your neighbors were so fun!”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes, instead unlocking your car with more force than necessary. “Oh, we’re a blast,” you mutter under your breath, sliding into the driver’s seat.

As you pull out of the parking lot, you catch a glimpse of Joe in your rearview mirror, still leaning against his car, watching you leave. There’s a flicker of something in his expression—amusement, maybe, or curiosity—but you don’t have the energy to figure it out.

Later that afternoon, when you’re back in your apartment trying to catch up on work, Ella pops her head into the living room with a mischievous grin.

“Guess who I ran into at the coffee shop?”

You glance up warily. “Who?”

“Joe,” she says, plopping down on the couch. “He said he’s planning a little ‘building mixer’ this weekend. Invited everyone on the floor. Including us.”

You groan, letting your head fall back against the couch. “No. Absolutely not. I am not going to some Burrow-hosted mixer.”

“Oh, come on,” Ella says, nudging you with her foot. “It could be fun. Free food, free drinks… awkward encounters with your mortal enemy…”

You glare at her, but she just laughs. “You’re going,” she says firmly. “I already RSVP’d for us.”

And just like that, you realize your week is about to get a whole lot more complicated.

Saturday night rolls around faster than you’d like, and with it comes the so-called “mixer” that Joe Burrow somehow convinced Ella you had to attend. You’d held onto the slim hope that it would be a small, quiet gathering of your neighbors in the building, with maybe some snacks, polite small talk, and an early exit for you.

Instead, you step off the elevator into what can only be described as chaos. The hallway is packed with people, the distant thrum of music vibrating through the walls. Someone’s yelling about finding the keg, and the faint scent of spilled beer and cologne wafts toward you.

“This is not a mixer,” you mutter to Ella as you both navigate your way through the crowd.

Ella, of course, looks thrilled. She’s dolled up in a crop top and high-waisted jeans, her hair and makeup perfectly done. “Relax,” she says, looping her arm through yours. “It’s just a party. Have a drink, let loose. Who knows? You might even have fun.”

You highly doubt that, but before you can argue, she spots Ja’Marr Chase leaning against the doorway to Joe’s apartment and perks up immediately. “I’ll catch up with you later!” she says, already untangling herself from your arm and heading toward him.

“Ella!” you call after her, but she’s too busy tossing a flirty smile Ja’Marr’s way to notice.

Great. Now you’re alone in the middle of a party that feels like half of LSU showed up to, surrounded by strangers and sticky floors. You push your way toward the kitchen, hoping to grab a drink and then find a corner to blend into until Ella decides it’s time to leave.

But, because the universe apparently loves messing with you, you hear his voice before you see him.

“Well, well, look who decided to show up.”

You groan internally and turn to see Joe leaning against the counter, a Solo cup in hand and that ever-present smirk on his face. He’s dressed casually in a fitted t-shirt and jeans, but somehow still manages to look like he owns the place—which, technically, he does.

“I’m only here because Ella dragged me,” you say, crossing your arms. “Don’t get any ideas.”

Joe chuckles, taking a sip of his drink. “Come on, admit it. You’re having the time of your life.”

“Yeah, sure,” you deadpan. “Sticky floors and loud music are exactly my idea of fun.”

He grins, clearly enjoying your irritation. “You know, if you wanted to hang out with me so badly, you could’ve just asked. No need to pretend Ella dragged you here.”

“I—” You stop yourself, realizing there’s no point in arguing. It’s exactly what he wants. Instead, you grab a bottle of water from the counter and turn to leave.

“Hey, hold up,” he says, stepping in front of you. “You’re not just gonna drink water all night, are you?”

“Yes, Joe, I am,” you say, trying to sidestep him, but he moves to block you.

“At least let me get you a real drink,” he says, gesturing toward the makeshift bar someone set up on the other side of the room. “I make a mean rum and Coke.”

“I’m fine, thanks.”

“Suit yourself,” he says, stepping aside, but not before adding, “But you’re missing out. My bartending skills are unmatched.”

You roll your eyes and head toward the living room, finding a spot near the wall where you can observe without being dragged into the chaos. You sip your water and watch as Joe works the room, effortlessly charming everyone he talks to.

About an hour later, you’re starting to regret not leaving when Ella abandoned you. You’ve been stuck making awkward small talk with strangers, and the music is only getting louder.

Then Ella appears out of nowhere, grabbing your arm with a giggle. “Come with me,” she says, pulling you toward the corner where Joe and some of his teammates are lounging on a worn-out sectional.

“Why?” you ask, resisting her tug.

“Because Ja’Marr wants to introduce me to his friends, and I don’t want to go alone!”

You sigh, reluctantly following her over. Ja’Marr greets Ella with a grin, and she practically melts under his attention. You, on the other hand, find yourself stuck sitting next to Joe, who looks far too pleased about the arrangement.

“Miss me already?” he asks, leaning closer so you can hear him over the music.

“Not even a little,” you reply, glaring at him.

He chuckles, clearly unbothered. “You’re really bad at hiding how much you enjoy my company, you know that?”

You open your mouth to retort, but before you can, one of his teammates interrupts. “Yo, Burrow, who’s this?”

“This,” Joe says, gesturing toward you with a dramatic flourish, “is my lovely neighbor.”

“Neighbor, huh?” the guy says, raising an eyebrow. “You two seem… close.”

You snort. “Not even remotely.”

Joe grins, slinging an arm over the back of the couch behind you. “Don’t listen to her,” he says. “She’s just shy.”

You shoot him a withering look, but he only laughs, clearly enjoying himself.

As the night drags on, Joe makes it his personal mission to annoy you. Every time you try to leave, he finds a way to pull you back into the conversation, teasing you relentlessly. His teammates, to their credit, seem amused by the dynamic, occasionally chiming in with their own jokes.

By the time Ella finally decides she’s ready to leave, you’re exhausted—physically and emotionally. You practically sprint for the door, eager to escape Joe’s smirk and the endless teasing.

As you step into the hallway, he calls after you, “See you around, neighbor!”

You don’t bother responding, instead dragging Ella toward the elevator. But as you press the button for your floor, you can’t help but feel like you haven’t seen the last of Joe Burrow tonight—or any night, for that matter.

The next week at LSU passes like any other, but somehow, Joe Burrow has managed to worm his way into your daily routine. It starts small—running into him at the mailboxes, hearing his muffled laughter through the thin walls at ungodly hours, and the occasional “good morning, neighbor!” shouted across the courtyard when you’re clearly not in the mood.

It’s maddening, really, the way he seems to delight in being everywhere you don’t want him to be. And yet, despite your annoyance, you can’t deny that his presence makes life just a little more… interesting.

FRIDAY NIGHT

Ella bursts through the apartment door, her face lit up with excitement. You’re sprawled on the couch, flipping through lecture notes and wishing the week would end already.

“Guess what!” she exclaims, tossing her bag onto the counter.

“Let me guess,” you say dryly. “Ja’Marr invited you to another party?”

“Close,” she says, wiggling her eyebrows. “Ja’Marr and Joe are throwing a tailgate tomorrow before the game, and we’re invited.”

You groan, already dreading the idea of spending yet another afternoon dodging Joe’s incessant teasing. “I’m busy,” you lie.

“You’re coming,” Ella insists, plopping down next to you. “It’s practically a campus tradition, and besides, you could use a little fun.”

“Fun,” you repeat, raising an eyebrow. “Is that what we’re calling being forced to socialize with half of LSU now?”

Ella rolls her eyes. “Come on, it’ll be fun. Food, drinks, and—” she grins mischievously—“a chance to hang out with your favorite quarterback.”

You glare at her. “Joe Burrow is not my favorite anything.”

“Uh-huh,” she says, clearly not believing you. “Wear something cute. We’re leaving at noon.”

SATURDAY AFTERNOON

The tailgate is, unsurprisingly, a spectacle. Rows of tents stretch across the field, decked out in purple and gold, with grills smoking and music blasting. Students and alumni alike mill about, laughing and chatting as they gear up for the game.

You follow Ella through the crowd, clutching a plastic cup of soda and trying to blend in. She, of course, makes a beeline for Ja’Marr, who’s manning the grill with an ease that suggests he’s done this a thousand times.

And where there’s Ja’Marr, there’s Joe.

He spots you almost immediately, his trademark smirk spreading across his face as he waves you over. “Hey, neighbor! Glad you could make it.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you mutter, but he’s already stepping closer, his easy confidence making it impossible to ignore him.

“What, no hug?” he teases, holding his arms out dramatically.

“Not in this lifetime,” you reply, sidestepping him.

Ella, now fully engrossed in a conversation with Ja’Marr, leaves you to fend for yourself. You glance around, debating whether to make a run for it, but Joe blocks your path, clearly amused by your discomfort.

“You’re really bad at this whole socializing thing, aren’t you?” he says, leaning casually against the nearest table.

“Maybe I just don’t enjoy your company,” you retort, taking a sip of your drink.

He grins. “If that were true, you wouldn’t be here.”

Before you can respond, one of his teammates calls his name, distracting him long enough for you to slip away. You find a quieter spot near the edge of the field, letting the noise of the crowd fade into the background.

But, of course, Joe finds you again.

“Thought you’d try to escape, huh?” he says, appearing at your side like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“I wasn’t escaping,” you lie, crossing your arms.

“Sure you weren’t.” He pauses, glancing at the crowd. “Not a fan of tailgates?”

“Not a fan of crowds,” you admit.

He nods, surprisingly serious for once. “Fair enough. They’re not for everyone.”

You glance at him, caught off guard by the genuine tone in his voice. It’s a rare moment of sincerity from someone who seems to live for getting under your skin.

And then, just as quickly, the moment passes.

“Still,” he says, his smirk returning, “you’ve got to admit, the food’s pretty good. Ja’Marr’s burgers? Best on campus.”

The party stretched well into the night, turning the once-bustling tailgate into a dimly lit, hazy scene of music, laughter, and scattered conversations. You’d almost forgotten how much you hated these kinds of events. The air was warm, the smell of grilled food and spilled beer thick, but for once, you weren’t faking a smile just to survive.

Instead, you were leaning against a folding chair near the makeshift DJ booth, chatting with a guy named Wes. He was a linebacker for LSU, though, by his own admission, mostly a benchwarmer. Shy, soft-spoken, and refreshingly normal, Wes wasn’t at all what you expected to find at a party like this.

“You’re telling me you’ve never been to Mike’s cage?” he asked, his voice slightly raised to be heard over the music.

You laughed. “I don’t know, it just never seemed like a big deal to me. It’s a tiger.”

His eyes widened in mock offense. “It’s not just a tiger. It’s our tiger.”

“Okay, okay, maybe I’ll check it out sometime,” you said, grinning at his enthusiasm.

From the corner of your eye, you caught movement, and instinctively, you glanced over. There, leaning against the bar table, was Joe.

His usual smirk was nowhere to be seen. Instead, his jaw was tight, and his eyes were fixed on you and Wes.

The sight of his uncharacteristically cold expression sent a jolt through you. Was he annoyed? No, that didn’t make sense. He didn’t care about you, not really.

Wes was saying something about the tiger habitat, but your attention flickered back to Joe. His knuckles whitened around the edge of his red Solo cup, and he seemed to be muttering something to Ja’Marr, who only shrugged in response.

“Everything okay?” Wes asked, his brow furrowed as he followed your gaze.

You blinked, forcing yourself to refocus. “Yeah, sorry. What were you saying?”

Joe, however, was impossible to ignore. At one point, he stormed past your little corner of the party, brushing close enough that you could feel the heat of his arm against yours.

Wes had just finished telling a story about his first LSU practice, his nervous laughter making you smile, when Joe’s voice cut through the conversation like a jagged knife.

“Nice to see you making friends,” he said, his tone just sharp enough to raise the hairs on your neck.

You turned to find Joe standing a few feet away, his trademark smirk forced and strained. He wasn’t looking at you but at Wes, his gaze heavy with something you couldn’t quite place.

“Hey, Burrow,” Wes said, his voice even but noticeably quieter.

Joe stepped closer, ignoring you entirely as he clapped Wes on the shoulder. “Wesley Evans, right? Linebacker extraordinaire.” His words were light, almost teasing, but there was a strange undertone to them.

“Uh, yeah,” Wes said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Though ‘extraordinaire’ might be a bit of a stretch.”

Joe chuckled, his laugh cold. “Oh, come on. Don’t sell yourself short. I mean, someone’s got to keep the bench warm, right?”

The group went silent.

You froze, your stomach dropping as the words settled over the conversation like a wet blanket. Wes’s easygoing demeanor faltered for just a moment—just long enough for you to catch the flicker of hurt in his eyes.

But he recovered quickly, letting out a forced laugh. “Yeah, well, someone’s gotta do it.”

“Joe,” Ja’Marr said sharply, stepping forward. “That was uncalled for.”

Joe raised his hands in mock surrender, his smirk faltering. “What? I was just joking.”

“No, you weren’t,” Ja’Marr said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You stared at Joe, your chest tightening with a mix of anger and confusion. What was his problem? You’d seen him tease people before, but this was something else. This was cruel.

Joe’s eyes finally flicked to yours, and for a brief second, something like regret flashed across his face. But just as quickly, he turned away, muttering, “Whatever,” before stalking off into the crowd.

The group stood in awkward silence, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.

“I’m sorry about that,” you said softly, turning to Wes.

He shook his head, forcing a smile. “Don’t worry about it. Happens all the time.”

But you could see the way his shoulders sagged, the way his fingers tightened around the edge of his cup.

Ja’Marr sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “He’s not usually like that.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” you muttered, still staring at the spot where Joe had disappeared.

Ja’Marr shot you a look but said nothing. The group eventually dispersed, the easy energy of the night soured by the encounter.

And as you followed Ella home later, you couldn’t stop replaying the moment in your head, trying to piece together why Joe Burrow seemed so determined to ruin the night—not just for you, but for Wes, too.

The walk back to your apartment was quiet, the faint buzz of crickets and distant party music filling the air as you and Ella navigated the dimly lit sidewalks. The night had been long, and your head was still spinning from Joe’s earlier outburst. You’d always known him to be annoying, maybe even a little infuriating, but tonight was different. There was a sharpness to him, an edge that left you unsettled.

Ella broke the silence first, her voice soft. “What do you think that was about? With Joe, I mean.”

You shrugged, kicking a loose pebble down the pavement. “Who knows? Maybe he ran out of people to torture and decided to branch out.”

Ella laughed lightly but didn’t press further. By the time you reached your apartment complex, the cool night air had started to seep into your skin, making you shiver. All you could think about was collapsing into bed and forgetting this day ever happened.

But, of course, Joe Burrow had other plans.

There he was, right in front of your door, pressed up against yet another blonde, her manicured nails tangled in his hair as they made out like the world was ending.

You stopped dead in your tracks, Ella nearly bumping into you.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you muttered under your breath.

At the sound of your voice, Joe broke away from his hookup, turning to face you with a smirk that was equal parts shameless and infuriating.

“Well, well, if it isn’t my favorite neighbor,” he drawled, his voice low and teasing. “Didn’t think you’d be back so soon. Wes not invite you over for a post-party study session?”

Your jaw tightened. “Get out of the way, Burrow.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying himself. “What’s the rush? You don’t want to hang out? I can introduce you to…uh…” He glanced at the girl beside him, snapping his fingers as if trying to remember her name.

The blonde giggled, clearly unbothered. “Stephanie,” she offered, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“Right. Stephanie,” Joe said, his grin widening.

Ella groaned softly beside you, crossing her arms. “Joe, move. We’re tired.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, stepping aside but not before leaning casually against the doorframe, effectively blocking your path again. “But seriously, where’s Wes? Thought you two were hitting it off. Or is he back on the bench already?”

“Are you serious right now?” you snapped, finally losing the last shred of patience you had left.

Joe straightened up, clearly surprised by the sudden bite in your tone. “What? I’m just messing around.”

“No, you’re being a jerk,” you shot back. “First, you humiliate Wes at the party, and now you’re standing here, rubbing it in like it’s some kind of joke. What’s your problem?”

Stephanie shifted uncomfortably, her gaze darting between you and Joe. “Uh, maybe we should—”

“Not now,” Joe cut her off, his tone sharper than you’d ever heard it. He didn’t even look at her, his eyes locked on yours.

Stephanie’s mouth fell open in shock. “Excuse me?”

“Just go,” he said, his voice quieter but no less firm.

For a moment, the three of you stood frozen, the tension hanging thick in the air. Then, with an indignant huff, Stephanie grabbed her purse and stormed off, her heels clicking angrily against the pavement.

Ella’s eyebrows shot up to her hairline. “Wow,” she muttered under her breath.

Joe ran a hand through his hair, exhaling deeply before turning back to you. “Happy now?”

“No,” you said, crossing your arms. “You’re still here.”

“Unbelievable,” he muttered, shaking his head. “You’re acting like I committed some crime. I was just joking, okay? It’s not my fault you can’t take a little teasing.”

“Teasing?” you repeated, incredulous. “Joe, you embarrassed Wes in front of everyone tonight. And for what? To make yourself feel better? To prove you’re the big man on campus?”

His jaw clenched, the cocky facade cracking ever so slightly. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Then enlighten me,” you challenged, taking a step closer. “Why do you always have to be such an ass?”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything, his gaze dropping to the ground. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and tense. “Maybe because it’s the only way to get your attention.”

Your breath caught, his words hitting like a punch to the gut. Before you could respond, he turned on his heel and walked away, the sound of his door slamming echoing through the quiet hallway.

Ella let out a low whistle. “Well, that was…something.”

You stared after him, your heart pounding in your chest. “Yeah,” you said softly. “Something.”

“Did he just…?” Ella’s voice was barely a whisper beside you.

You swallowed hard, not trusting yourself to speak. What the hell was that supposed to mean? It wasn’t like Joe to be vulnerable—hell, he practically lived to get under your skin. And yet, there it was, hanging in the air: the truth you never asked for, wrapped up in all his stupid teasing and annoying antics.

“Forget it,” you finally muttered, fumbling with your keys as you moved to unlock the door. “He’s just trying to mess with me.”

“Uh-huh,” Ella said slowly, following you inside. “Because, you know, the guy who just ditched a hot blonde to argue with you at midnight clearly doesn’t care.”

You shot her a glare, unwilling to entertain the idea. “I’m going to bed.”

Ella raised her hands in surrender, smirking knowingly as she headed for her room. “Okay, but don’t act surprised when he shows up tomorrow. He’s not exactly the type to let things go.”

“Goodnight, Ella,” you said firmly, shutting your bedroom door behind you.

But as you lay awake in the dark, staring at the ceiling, you couldn’t get his words out of your head. Maybe because it’s the only way to get your attention. Was he serious? Or was this just another game to him, a way to throw you off-balance and make you question everything?

With a frustrated sigh, you rolled over, punching your pillow as if it was somehow Joe’s fault that you couldn’t sleep. Whatever his deal was, you weren’t going to let him get under your skin any more than he already had.

But deep down, you knew it was too late. Because whether you liked it or not, Joe Burrow had already wormed his way into your thoughts—and no amount of denial was going to change that.

The next morning, you woke up to a series of loud knocks on your door, far too early for any sane person to be awake. Groaning, you pulled the covers over your head, but the knocking continued, persistent and unrelenting.

“Go away!” you yelled, but the noise didn’t stop.

With a huff, you threw off the blankets and stumbled out of bed, yanking open the door with every intention of giving whoever it was a piece of your mind.

But, of course, it was Joe.

He stood there, leaning casually against the doorframe like he hadn’t just woken you up at the crack of dawn, a lazy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Morning, neighbor.”

You stared at him, too stunned and too tired to muster a response.

“Didn’t think you’d be up,” he said, his tone annoyingly chipper.

“I wasn’t,” you snapped, rubbing your eyes. “What the hell do you want?”

His smile widened, and he held up a to-go coffee cup, the LSU logo bright against the paper sleeve. “Thought you might need a pick-me-up.”

You blinked at the cup, then at him, suspicion rising. “What’s the catch?”

“No catch,” he said, still holding it out. “Just coffee. Truce?”

You hesitated, the words from last night still lingering between you. But, against your better judgment, you reached for the cup, your fingers brushing his for a brief second. “Fine. Truce. For now.”

His eyes gleamed, like he’d just won some kind of invisible battle. “I’ll take it.” He turned to leave but paused, glancing over his shoulder. “Oh, and by the way—I’m not going anywhere.”

And with that, he was gone, leaving you standing in the doorway with a coffee cup in hand and the distinct feeling that, somehow, things were about to get a whole lot more complicated.

Things between you and Wes have been going really well. You’ve been texting each other daily since that first meeting in the quad, and his messages always seem to bring a smile to your face. Some days, you talk about classes and the usual college chaos—complaining about professors who seem to thrive on assigning last-minute papers, laughing over campus gossip, or sharing music recommendations.

Other days, the conversations drift into deeper topics: family, future dreams, and the things you never thought you’d share with someone you’d barely known a few weeks ago. It's easy, effortless, and you feel like you've known him forever. There's a connection that grows stronger with each passing day, his texts becoming a constant you look forward to amid the swirl of college life.

When game days roll around, you make sure to watch, even if football has never been your thing. You learn enough of the basics to text him encouragement before each game and tease him when his team makes a stupid play. And every single time he wins, you get a photo of him in his jersey, sweaty and glowing with victory, his smile so wide you can feel it through the screen.

One crisp Saturday evening after a particularly big game—a win that had the entire stadium roaring and chanting for more—your phone buzzes. It’s Wes, as expected, but this time the message is different.

Wes: Big win tonight. You should come out to celebrate—party at the house. It'll be fun, promise.

You hesitate for a moment. Frat parties aren’t usually your scene, but the idea of seeing Wes in person after weeks of building up this text-based connection makes your heart beat a little faster. It feels like the right time to finally break out of the comfort of your phone screen. You don’t want to overthink it, so you respond quickly.

You: Okay, I’ll come! What time? Wes: Perfect. Starts at 9, but I’ll be there around 10. Meet me out front? I’ll make sure you don’t get lost.

You can’t help but laugh at that—his protective side has become more apparent lately, and you find it kind of endearing. The rest of the evening passes in a blur of anticipation. You try on half your wardrobe, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness that makes your stomach flutter. After way too much deliberation, you settle on something that’s cute but comfortable—a black crop top, jeans that fit just right, and your favorite sneakers. Casual, but you don’t want to come off like you’re trying too hard.

The party was in full swing by the time you and Wes went in, the familiar buzz of laughter and music filling the air. His arm rested loosely around your shoulders as you made your way through the packed house, a red solo cup already in his hand. It was a typical LSU post-game celebration—teammates hyped up from their win, students eager for a reason to cut loose, and just enough chaos to keep things interesting.

Wes, ever the golden retriever type, was all smiles as he greeted his teammates. You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt as you plastered on your own smile. Wes was great—sweet, thoughtful, and good-looking to boot—but there was something missing. Conversations with him always felt a little too polished, like he was sticking to a script.

Still, you weren’t going to let your wandering thoughts ruin the night. As he led you toward the makeshift bar in the kitchen, you decided to let loose a little, leaning into his world for the evening.

You were two drinks in when you felt it—a shift in the air that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Glancing across the room, your eyes locked with Joe’s. He was leaning casually against the wall, his cup dangling from his fingers as he laughed at something Ja’Marr said. But his focus wasn’t on his teammate—it was on you.

That look.

You’d seen it before, the one that screamed I’m up to something. Your stomach twisted as his lips curved into a slow, knowing smirk.

“What’s wrong?” Wes asked, his voice breaking through your thoughts.

“Nothing,” you said quickly, forcing a smile. “Just thought I saw someone I knew.”

Wes didn’t notice your distraction, too busy rambling about the game. You nodded along, but your attention kept drifting back to Joe. He was still watching, and now he was moving.

Straight toward you.

“Wesley,” Joe said, his voice louder than necessary as he clapped a hand on Wes’s shoulder. “Man of the hour! Hell of a game tonight.”

Wes beamed, his chest puffing out a little. “Thanks, Burrow. That means a lot coming from you.”

“Oh, don’t mention it,” Joe said smoothly, his grin sharpening. “You’re really making a name for yourself out there.” He paused, his tone dipping just enough to make the compliment feel off. “You’ve got a solid five minutes of playing time this season, right?”

Wes laughed, missing the sarcasm entirely. “Yeah, Coach says I’m improving every week.”

Joe nodded, his expression the picture of sincerity. “No doubt. You’re an inspiration, man. Really showing the bench how it’s done.”

You rolled your eyes, biting back the urge to step in. Wes didn’t deserve to be Joe’s verbal punching bag, even if he was too oblivious to notice.

Then Joe shifted his focus.

“And this,” he said, gesturing toward you with his cup, “is the girl everyone’s been talking about?”

You stiffened, already bracing yourself.

“She’s great, right?” Wes said proudly, tightening his arm around your waist.

“Absolutely,” Joe said, his eyes locking on yours. “Smart, pretty, patient.” His lips twitched as he added, “Definitely one of a kind.”

The room felt hotter, smaller. You knew what he was doing, and you refused to let him win.

“Wow, Joe,” you said, your tone dripping with mock sweetness. “That’s almost a compliment. Are you feeling okay?”

The corners of his mouth twitched upward. “What can I say? I’m a generous guy.”

Wes chuckled awkwardly, clearly missing the tension simmering between the two of you. But the people around you weren’t as oblivious. Conversations around the kitchen began to quiet, heads subtly turning in your direction.

Joe leaned in slightly, his gaze never leaving yours. “Though I gotta say, Wes, you’ve got your hands full. She seems like the type to keep you on your toes. Always ready with a snappy comeback.”

You took a step forward, your jaw tightening. “Maybe because some people deserve it.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’re talking about me,” Joe said, his smirk widening. “But hey, you’ve got to admit, I keep things interesting.”

“Interesting?” you repeated, your voice rising. “You mean infuriating.”

By now, you were toe-to-toe, the space between you charged with unspoken words and something else you refused to acknowledge.

Joe’s eyes flicked down to your lips for a fraction of a second before he smiled again, softer this time. “Guess that’s one way to put it.”

Your breath caught, and for a moment, you were certain everyone in the room could see the way your cheeks flushed, the way your chest rose and fell faster than it should have.

Joe straightened, patting Wes on the back. “You’ve got a good one here, man. Don’t screw it up.”

And just like that, he was gone, disappearing back into the crowd with that stupid smirk still on his face.

Wes turned to you, oblivious as ever. “Man, Joe’s great, isn’t he?”

You didn’t answer, too busy trying to calm the storm raging inside you. Because as much as you hated to admit it, Joe Burrow had just gotten under your skin again. And this time, you weren’t sure you could shake him off.

The days blur together after the party, each one bleeding into the next with a heavy quiet you can’t shake. Joe hasn’t teased you, hasn’t made any more snide comments in passing. It’s almost like he’s disappeared entirely, and the silence he’s left behind feels suffocating.

But it's not the kind of peace you wanted—it's the kind that echoes, that bounces around inside your skull, replaying the things he said over and over again until you can’t ignore them anymore. You try to focus on Wes, try to let his easygoing, good-natured attitude soothe the irritation that keeps curling under your skin, but the more you think about Joe’s words, the more they fester. Suddenly, everything about Wes feels too soft, too careful. He’s kind, yes, but there's a blandness to it, a safe predictability that only makes you itch for something sharper.

Then, days later, you find yourself in the apartment lobby, bundled up against the late autumn chill, glaring at a maintenance form on the wall. The hot water’s been out for days, and you’re halfway through filling out a complaint when you hear footsteps behind you. You don’t have to turn around to know who it is—the shift in the air is enough.

"Wow, fancy meeting you here," comes Joe’s voice, smooth and mocking, with just enough bite to make your spine stiffen. You don’t turn around, don’t give him the satisfaction of a reaction. Instead, you keep writing, the pen pressing hard enough against the paper that it almost tears.

"Cold water bothering you too?" he continues when you don’t respond, his tone amused. You can feel him looming behind you, a little too close, and you grit your teeth, willing yourself to stay calm.

"Just trying to get it fixed," you reply curtly, finally turning around and catching the cocky smirk tugging at his lips. You’re not in the mood for whatever game he’s about to play, but of course, he’s not about to let you off that easy. His gaze slides from the form in your hand back up to your face, one eyebrow quirking up in that infuriating way that always makes you want to wipe the smugness off his face.

"Surprised you’re handling it yourself," Joe drawls, his eyes bright with something almost like delight. "Thought you'd get your little boyfriend to do it for you."

Your fingers tighten around the pen, and you force yourself to take a breath, ignoring the way your pulse quickens. "Not everything revolves around Wes," you shoot back, but your voice wavers just enough to make Joe’s smirk widen. His eyes flick over your face, and you hate the way he seems to read every expression, every crack in the mask you’re struggling to hold up.

"Really?" he says, the word heavy with skepticism. He crosses his arms over his chest, leaning back against the wall like he’s settling in for a show. "Could’ve fooled me. He’s got you wrapped around his little finger, huh? I bet you’re the perfect, supportive girlfriend." His voice drips with sarcasm, and something inside you snaps.

"Shut up, Joe," you hiss, your voice low and dangerous. You turn back to the form, determined to ignore him, but he doesn’t move. In fact, he leans in closer, his breath warm on your ear.

"Why?" he murmurs, his voice soft but taunting, like he’s got all the time in the world. "Hit a nerve?"

You don’t answer. You can’t. Because the truth is, he did hit a nerve. And he knows it.

"Come on," he pushes, a note of genuine curiosity in his tone now. "Don’t you ever get tired of it? Playing nice, doing everything right, sticking with someone who’s… I dunno, safe?"

You spin around, eyes blazing, and Joe’s face lights up with triumph. "You don’t know anything about him," you snap, but there’s a waver in your voice that makes Joe’s eyes narrow with interest. "Wes is kind, and he’s decent, and he actually cares about people, which is a hell of a lot more than I can say for you."

Joe’s smile doesn’t falter. In fact, it only grows wider, almost wolfish, and you hate that it sends a thrill through you, a charge that leaves your heart racing. "Yeah," he says, his tone almost pitying, "he’s safe. Boring. He’s exactly the kind of guy who’d never get in your way, never challenge you, never push back. And you’re happy with that? Really?"

You glare at him, your blood boiling, but you can’t look away. Because some part of you—the part you’ve been trying to silence for days—knows he’s right, and it makes you want to scream. "What the hell is your problem, Joe?" you demand, your voice shaking with anger. "Why do you even care? What does it matter to you if I’m with him or not?"

For a moment, something flickers in Joe’s eyes, something you can’t quite read, but it’s gone as quickly as it appears, replaced by that infuriating smirk. "I don’t care," he says, too quickly, his voice a little too smooth. "I just think it’s funny, that’s all. Watching you pretend like he’s enough for you."

You step closer without realizing it, your fists clenched at your sides. "You don’t know what you’re talking about," you insist, but it sounds weak, even to your own ears. Joe’s gaze drops to your lips for a split second, and you feel a jolt of something hot and dangerous twist in your stomach.

"Don’t I?" he murmurs, and suddenly, you’re standing toe-to-toe, your breath mingling with his, the tension between you crackling like a live wire. He’s so close, close enough that you can see the flecks of gold in his eyes, the way his smirk softens just enough to be dangerous.

You don’t move. Neither does he.

There’s a beat, a moment suspended in time where it feels like the whole world has narrowed down to just the two of you, the weight of everything unsaid hanging heavy in the air. Then, suddenly, Joe’s expression shifts, a slow, satisfied grin spreading across his face as he leans back, breaking the spell. He claps you on the shoulder, his touch light but lingering.

"Good talk," he says, his tone infuriatingly cheerful as he pushes past you towards the elevator, leaving you standing there, breathless and rattled.

"Have fun with Wes," he throws over his shoulder, and the door slides shut behind him before you can find the words to reply. You’re left staring at the closed elevator doors, your chest heaving and your hands still trembling around the pen, the echoes of Joe’s taunting voice ricocheting in your mind.

And for the first time in days, the silence feels even louder.

The days drag by, and every one of them feels heavier, weighed down by Joe's words. They hang over you, echoing whenever you try to ignore them, seeping into your thoughts when you're with Wes. The way he holds your hand, the way he smiles politely at your jokes, the way he never raises his voice or teases you too hard—it’s all safe. It’s what you thought you wanted. But now, thanks to Joe, it’s all starting to feel empty, like a shell with nothing inside.

As if to make matters worse, Joe's been louder, more present, and more irritating than ever. He’s upped his game, bringing a new girl home almost every night, the kind who giggle just a little too loud in the stairwell, whose heels click sharply against the tile floors, waking you and Ella up in the middle of the night. You hear them laughing through the paper-thin walls, their voices carrying long after you wish they’d shut up. Ella throws a pillow at the wall one night, groaning in frustration, but you just lie there, staring up at the dark ceiling, the annoyance mixing with something else—something you refuse to name.

And then Wes’s birthday sneaks up on you, like a storm you’d been pretending not to see on the horizon. Everyone's talking about it—the party of the semester, hosted at his parents’ mansion on the outskirts of Baton Rouge. You know it’s a big deal. Wes’s parents are the kind who throw events instead of parties, the kind where everyone’s wearing their best, and you’d feel out of place if you weren’t on Wes’s arm. You spend way too long picking out your dress, ignoring Ella’s teasing smile as you change twice and then settle on something classy, something you think Wes’s parents will approve of.

The mansion is even more extravagant than you expected. Tall, stately, and glowing with warm light spilling from every window. A string quartet plays softly near the entrance, and there’s enough champagne to drown in. It’s a perfect picture of Southern elegance, the kind of party where everyone’s on their best behavior and no one dares spill a drink on the white marble floors.

You’re almost able to relax, standing with Wes as he introduces you to old friends and relatives, his arm around your waist like you’re some kind of prize. But then, from across the room, you catch sight of someone familiar stepping through the grand double doors, and the air goes still.

Joe. And he’s not alone.

On his arm is a girl who looks like she’s stepped straight out of a beauty magazine—perfect curls cascading down her back, a dress that hugs her curves in all the right places, and a pageant smile that could light up the whole room. She’s everything you’re not: polished, pristine, and undeniably beautiful. And Joe’s leaning in close to her, whispering something that makes her laugh, the sound light and carefree, echoing above the music.

Your heart sinks. You should have known he’d be here. You should have known he’d show up with someone like her.

The moment he walks in, it’s like the temperature drops. You feel him scan the room, his gaze sliding over the crowd until it lands on you. There’s a flicker of recognition, a half-smile that tugs at his lips, and for a second, you swear he’s going to make a beeline for you, but then he turns to his date, all easy charm and confidence.

You look away quickly, swallowing down the hot, bitter twinge of jealousy that rises in your chest. Beside you, Wes is oblivious, laughing with some cousin or another, completely unaware of the storm that’s building in your mind.

The party moves on, but you can't shake the weight in your chest. Every time you turn around, Joe is there—always in your peripheral, laughing with his date or effortlessly sliding into conversations with people he’s never met, commanding attention without even trying. And it’s driving you mad. You hate that he’s here, hate the way his presence seems to seep into every corner of the room, hate that you can’t stop looking for him, even when you don’t mean to.

Wes’s parents announce dinner, and you find yourself at a long table, perfectly set with silverware that you don’t even know how to use properly. Wes is on your left, chatting away, and you force yourself to smile and nod at the right moments, though your gaze keeps drifting over his shoulder. Joe is at the far end of the table, but his eyes meet yours—bright and full of something that feels like a challenge. He raises his glass in your direction, and you don’t miss the way his date practically glows under his attention, leaning into his side.

You grit your teeth, focusing on Wes, who’s completely unaware of the way your stomach is twisting. He’s sweet, attentive, a perfect gentleman, and you wish you could ignore the itch under your skin, the restlessness that grows with each passing minute. But it’s there, burning hotter every time you catch sight of Joe, laughing too loud or leaning in too close to whisper in his date's ear.

By the time dessert is served, you’re practically vibrating with frustration, and Wes’s voice is starting to blur into the background. He’s telling some long-winded story about his summer at the family lake house, but all you can think about is how easy it would be to just walk over to the other end of the table and—

“Hey, you alright?” Wes’s voice breaks through your thoughts, and you force yourself to focus on him, pasting on a smile that feels hollow.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you lie, reaching for your glass of champagne and taking a sip that burns all the way down. He seems satisfied, squeezing your hand gently under the table, but his touch feels distant, almost suffocating.

And when you glance back at Joe, he’s watching you, his smile sharper than you remember. There’s a glint in his eyes that makes your skin prickle, like he’s waiting for something, like he knows exactly what kind of game he’s playing. His date is still chattering away, oblivious to the way his gaze keeps flicking back to you, like a tether he can’t quite cut loose.

You look away, your face heating, and try to drown out the feeling with another sip of champagne. But it's no use. The night has only just begun, and you already know—it’s going to be a long one.

You escape upstairs, the noise of the party fading as you climb the grand, spiraling staircase. It’s quieter up here, with the muted sound of conversation and laughter drifting up from below, and you can finally breathe a little easier. You’re not even sure what you’re doing—just that you need a break from the suffocating conversation, the polished smiles, and the feeling of being watched. Wes is deep in conversation with a teammate, and it was easy enough to slip away unnoticed. You tell yourself you're only going to the bathroom, but you don’t even bother finding one. You just wander down the hall, hoping to collect yourself, to calm the thudding in your chest.

But then, of course, you see him.

Joe, leaning lazily against the wall at the end of the hallway, like he’s been waiting for you. There’s no sign of his date—she’s probably downstairs, lost in the crowd—but Joe’s here, and he looks too damn comfortable, his tie loosened and his shirt sleeves rolled up. He gives you that infuriating half-smirk the second your eyes meet, like he’s been expecting you. Like he knows you’re going to stop.

“Lost?” he drawls, his voice a low, lazy tease, and you freeze, every muscle in your body going tense.

“No,” you snap, hating the way your heart skips when he pushes off the wall, taking a step closer. “Just getting some air.”

“From Wes?” he asks, eyebrows raising, and you can hear the taunt in his tone, the way he draws out the name like it’s a joke. “Or from this whole perfect little party of his?”

“None of your business,” you shoot back, but he’s closer now, and you hate how your breath catches, how the air between you feels thick and electric. He’s looking at you like he’s stripping away all the layers you’ve put up—the polite smiles, the careful charm—and seeing straight through to the part of you that’s restless and hungry for a fight.

“You know, I can’t tell if you’re actually enjoying yourself,” he says, his voice dropping lower, almost intimate. “Or if you’re just playing the role of ‘good girlfriend’ to make everyone happy.”

“Shut up, Joe,” you warn, but your voice is weaker than you want it to be, and he notices. Of course he notices. He takes another step, and suddenly he’s way too close, the heat of him radiating into the space between you, making it harder to breathe.

“Or is it that Wes is just…too boring for you?” he presses, and something snaps. You step forward, shoving him hard enough to make him stumble back a step, anger flaring white-hot in your chest.

“Why do you care?” you demand, your voice rising. “Why do you always have to ruin everything? You can’t stand seeing me happy, can you? You always have to get in the way—”

“Oh, please,” he cuts you off, his voice sharp with irritation. “Don’t act like I’m the one ruining things. You’re the one who can’t stop looking at me. You’re the one who’s pretending this perfect little relationship is enough for you.”

You don’t even think. You just react, stepping closer, your chest heaving with the force of your anger, your hands curling into fists at your sides. “You don’t know anything about me!” you shout, the words tearing out of you before you can stop them. “You don’t know what I want or what I need, so stop pretending like you have me all figured out!”

He’s laughing now, a low, mocking sound that sets your teeth on edge, and you want to hit him, to scream, to do something to wipe that infuriating smirk off his face. But then he’s had enough. Suddenly, he moves, quick as a flash, and before you can even blink, he’s grabbing you by the waist and hoisting you up as if you weigh nothing, throwing you over his shoulder in one swift, effortless motion.

“Put me down!” you shout, struggling against him, but he just tightens his grip, carrying you down the hall like you’re some kind of rag doll. Your fists beat uselessly against his back, and you’re half-cursing, half-panicking as he ignores you, kicking open the nearest door and stepping inside.

The door slams shut behind him, and you barely register the darkened room—a guest bedroom, dimly lit by the moonlight streaming through the curtains—before he’s setting you down, pressing you up against the wall with a force that steals the breath from your lungs. You’re too stunned to move, your back hitting the cold plaster, and suddenly his body is pinning you there, his hands on either side of your face, caging you in.

“Finally shut you up,” he mutters, his voice rough, and you feel a shiver run down your spine at the way his breath brushes your cheek, hot and fast. His eyes are dark, burning with something you’ve never seen before, and the space between you feels like it’s crackling, alive with an energy that makes your skin prickle and your pulse race.

“Why do you have to be such a—” you start, but he cuts you off, leaning in closer, so close that you can feel the warmth of his chest pressing against yours. His mouth is inches from yours, his lips twisting into a wicked smile.

“Go on,” he taunts, his voice low and dangerous. “Say it. Tell me what you really think.”

You’re breathing hard, your anger warring with something hotter, something that’s been building between you for months, and you can’t stop yourself. “You’re an asshole,” you spit, your hands coming up to shove at his chest, but he doesn’t move. He just leans in, his nose brushing against yours, the air between you thick and suffocating.

“And you,” he says softly, his voice almost gentle, “are a liar.”

You don’t know who moves first—whether it’s him closing the distance or you surging up to meet him—but suddenly his mouth is on yours, hard and desperate, and you’re kissing him back like it’s the only thing you’ve ever wanted. The kiss is furious, full of all the things you can’t say, all the frustration and the longing and the anger that’s been building up for so long it feels like it’s going to explode. His hands are in your hair, his grip almost painful, and you’re clinging to him, pulling him closer, gasping into his mouth as he presses you harder against the wall.

“Tell me you don’t want this,” he whispers against your lips, his breath ragged, and you shake your head, too far gone to think, to lie, to do anything but pull him closer, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“Shut up,” you breathe, and he laughs, the sound vibrating against your skin, before he kisses you again, deeper this time, slower, like he’s savoring the taste of your surrender. The room feels too small, the air too thick, and you know you should stop, you know this is wrong, but you can’t, not when his hands are sliding down your sides, not when his body is pressing into yours, not when he’s kissing you like he’s been waiting for this just as long as you have.

And then, suddenly, it’s too much. You push him away, your breath coming in short, harsh gasps, and he lets you go, stepping back with a grin that’s all arrogance and triumph. Your lips feel swollen, your face flushed, and you hate that you can’t stop looking at him, that you want more even though you know you shouldn’t.

“See?” he says softly, his voice maddeningly smug. “I do know you.”

The words barely have time to leave his mouth before you’re on him again, shoving him away from you, your hands hitting his chest with more force than you intend. He stumbles back a step, a flash of surprise crossing his face before his eyes harden, that infuriating grin vanishing. You’re both breathing hard, the air between you heavy with everything unspoken, with all the sharp words that have been building up since the day you met.

“You don’t know anything!” you snap, your voice cracking, and he just laughs, a short, humorless sound that makes your blood boil.

“You keep saying that,” he shoots back, his voice low and dangerous, “but here you are. Every time, it’s the same thing. You want me to stop? Then say it. Tell me to leave.”

You open your mouth to say exactly that, to tell him to go to hell and stay out of your life, but the words won’t come. They catch in your throat, tangled up with the truth you can’t face, and he sees it. He always sees it. His gaze softens, something like understanding flickering in those dark eyes, and it pisses you off more than anything.

“See?” he murmurs, taking a slow, deliberate step forward. “You can’t. Because you don’t want me to.”

“Shut up,” you whisper, but it’s too late—he’s already crowding into your space, his hand curling around the back of your neck, tilting your face up to his. You hate him for the way he’s looking at you, like he’s unraveling you with a single glance, like he knows exactly how to break you down, and before you can stop yourself, you’re surging up, your hands fisting in his shirt as you kiss him again, harder this time, angrier.

His arms come around you instantly, pulling you closer, and you hate that it feels good, that it feels right, even as you’re pushing against him, your nails digging into his shoulders. It’s a mess of teeth and tongues, the kiss desperate and furious, and you’re drowning in it, in the heat of him, in the way his fingers are tangled in your hair, tugging just enough to make you gasp.

Then the door swings open, and you both jerk apart, your breaths coming in ragged, uneven pants. You barely have time to process what’s happening before you see Ja’Marr standing there, his expression caught somewhere between exasperation and disbelief. He looks at you, then at Joe, and lets out a long, frustrated sigh.

“Really, Joe?” he says, his voice laced with disappointment. “In the middle of Wes’s birthday party? Do you have a death wish or something?”

“Calm down,” Joe says coolly, like he’s not the least bit bothered, his gaze still fixed on you, as if daring you to run. “We were just talking.”

“Yeah,” Ja’Marr scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “Talking, right. Because making out with your teammate’s girl is totally a normal conversation.”

You feel your cheeks burn, and you step back, smoothing down your clothes like you can erase what just happened. “This—this was nothing,” you stammer, trying to ignore the way Joe’s lips curl into a smirk at your flustered tone. “We’re done here.”

Joe just gives you a lazy, almost triumphant smile, like he’s won some unspoken battle, and turns to Ja’Marr with a shrug. “She’s got a mind of her own, you know,” he says, and you want to punch him, to scream, but Ja’Marr just shakes his head, looking equal parts disappointed and resigned.

“Whatever,” Ja’Marr mutters, grabbing Joe’s arm and pulling him out into the hallway. “You need to get your act together. Wes is going to notice if you keep pulling this crap.”

Joe’s eyes flick to you one last time, something unreadable in his expression, before he lets Ja’Marr drag him away. The door clicks shut behind them, and you’re left alone in the darkened room, your heart racing and your thoughts spinning out of control. You know you should follow them, that you should go back downstairs and pretend like nothing happened, but your knees feel weak, and it takes you a long moment to gather yourself, to steady your breathing.

By the time you make your way back down to the party, your face feels numb, and you’ve forced on the brightest smile you can muster. Joe is already back in the thick of things, his arm slung casually around his date’s waist, laughing like he doesn’t have a care in the world. You want to be angry, to hate him for making it look so easy, but then Wes catches sight of you, his eyes lighting up as he excuses himself from his conversation.

“Hey, there you are!” he says, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pressing a quick kiss to your temple. You try to smile, but it feels fake, like your skin doesn’t fit right anymore. “Where’d you disappear to?”

“Just needed a minute,” you say, your voice sounding hollow even to your own ears. You’re about to say something else, anything to fill the awkward silence, when you catch movement out of the corner of your eye.

Joe’s watching you, his gaze flicking from your face to your mouth, and that’s when you realize—his lips are still stained with the faintest trace of your lipstick, a dark, telltale smear at the corner of his mouth.

Wes follows your gaze, and his smile falters, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Joe, what’s on your—”

But Joe cuts in smoothly, wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, his grin widening as if he finds the whole thing hilarious. “Guess I got a little carried away,” he says, his voice dripping with mock innocence, and you feel the ground sway beneath you as Wes’s arm tightens around your shoulders, his confusion shifting to suspicion.

“What’s he talking about?” Wes asks, his eyes narrowing, and you open your mouth to respond, to deny, to do something—but nothing comes out. Your voice has abandoned you, and all you can do is stand there, frozen, as Joe’s smirk deepens and he lifts his drink in a mocking toast, his gaze never leaving yours.

“Good party,” Joe says casually, his tone almost friendly. “Really enjoyed myself.”

You don’t remember what happens next—just the blur of faces, the noise of the party swelling around you, and the hollow ache settling deep in your chest as Joe turns away, laughing with someone else, like he hasn’t just blown everything to pieces.

Wes's smile is strained when he pulls you aside, away from the music and the crowd. There’s a tightness around his eyes you haven’t seen before, something almost defeated, and for the first time that night, you feel a genuine pang of guilt. This is the part you were dreading—the confrontation, the disappointment in his eyes. But instead of yelling, instead of demanding an explanation, he just looks... tired.

“Hey,” he starts softly, rubbing the back of his neck, his eyes dropping to the floor. “I don’t wanna make a scene, okay? But I think... I think maybe you should go.”

You open your mouth to respond, but the words die in your throat. There’s no anger in his voice, just resignation, like he already knows the answer before you can even try to lie. You can’t tell if that makes it better or worse.

“Wes, I—” you begin, but he holds up a hand, a weak, defeated smile pulling at his lips.

“It’s okay,” he interrupts, and there’s something achingly kind in his voice, which somehow makes it hurt more. “I think we both know this... isn’t what you want. Not really.”

You feel relief flood your chest so suddenly that it’s almost nauseating, and that’s how you know he’s right. Because instead of being devastated, instead of scrambling to explain yourself, you just feel lighter. Like a weight you didn’t realize you were carrying has finally been lifted.

You reach out to touch his arm, but he steps back, shaking his head. “Don’t,” he says quietly, and you let your hand drop, nodding numbly. There’s nothing left to say. You don’t try to apologize; you don’t try to make excuses. You just turn and leave, the buzz of the party fading behind you as you slip out the front door, the cold night air hitting you like a slap.

The walk back to the apartment feels like a blur, your mind whirling with everything that just happened, everything you don’t want to think about. You don’t know if it’s the relief of being free from something you never truly wanted, or the shame of how it all went down, but by the time you reach your building, your hands are trembling and your breath is hitching.

You let yourself into the apartment, your eyes already burning with unshed tears, and you find Ella curled up on the couch, half-asleep in front of the TV. The moment she sees your face, though, she sits up, worry creasing her brow.

“Whoa, what happened?” she asks, her voice thick with sleep, but you don’t even know where to begin.

“Everything,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper, and then it all spills out. You tell her everything—about Joe, about the kiss, about Wes’s sad, tired smile and the way he let you go without a fight. You’re talking so fast you’re stumbling over your words, your emotions a chaotic tangle of regret and relief and frustration, and by the time you’re finished, you feel completely wrung out.

Ella listens without interrupting, her expression shifting from shock to disbelief to sympathy as you pour your heart out. When you finally go quiet, she just sighs and pulls you into a hug, squeezing you so tight you can barely breathe.

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs, and you don’t realize how much you needed to hear that until the tears start falling. She doesn’t tell you that you screwed up, she doesn’t lecture you about Joe, she just holds you while you cry, rubbing soothing circles on your back until the tears run dry.

By the time you pull away, your throat is raw, and you’re exhausted. Ella doesn’t say anything, just gives you a look that says she understands, that she’s on your side no matter what, and that’s enough. It’s more than enough.

But then, just as you’re wiping your eyes and trying to compose yourself, you hear it—a loud burst of laughter echoing through the thin wall you share with Joe’s apartment. It’s followed by the high-pitched giggle of a girl, and your stomach twists. Of course. Of course.

Ella catches the look on your face and scowls. “He’s such an ass,” she mutters, rolling her eyes. “You want me to go bang on the wall and tell them to shut up?”

“No,” you say quickly, shaking your head. “It’s... it’s fine. Let’s just go to bed.”

You don’t even believe yourself, but you can’t deal with Joe right now, not after everything. So you go to your room, shut the door, and try to block out the noise. You tell yourself you don’t care. You tell yourself it’s over. But sleep doesn’t come easily, and all you can hear is Joe’s voice in your head, his mocking words echoing long after the sounds from next door have finally gone quiet.

Over the next few days, you try to fall back into a routine, but everything feels off-kilter. Wes doesn’t text you, and you don’t reach out, letting the silence stretch between you until it feels like a mutual understanding—something that was always going to happen. Ella hovers, supportive but careful not to push, and you appreciate that. You just need space, time to sort through everything.

Joe, however, is a different story.

You barely see him around the complex, but when you do, it’s impossible to ignore him. He’s still bringing home girls—more than ever, it seems—and they’re always loud, obnoxiously so, like he’s doing it on purpose, like he’s rubbing it in your face. And maybe he is. Maybe this is his way of proving a point, of showing you that he doesn’t care, that he never cared, and the worst part is... you don’t know if you care either. Or maybe you care too much.

One night, after a particularly sleepless stretch of listening to laughter and footsteps pounding through the walls, Ella finds you staring blankly at the ceiling, dark circles smudged beneath your eyes.

“He’s doing this on purpose, you know,” she says bluntly, her tone halfway between irritation and pity. “He’s trying to get to you.”

“Yeah, well,” you mutter, rolling over to face the wall. “It’s working.”

Wes’s birthday party fades into memory, and a few weeks pass. It’s easier to pretend you don’t care when you don’t have to face the fallout. You focus on classes, avoid places where you might run into Joe, and try to ignore the way your heart sinks every time you hear his voice next door.

Then, one Friday night, there’s a knock on your door. You’re half expecting Ella’s latest Tinder date or a package, but instead, you find Joe leaning against the doorframe, his usual cocky grin nowhere in sight. There’s something almost hesitant about the way he looks at you, and for a second, you don’t know what to say.

“Hey,” he says, his voice softer than you’ve ever heard it, and it catches you off guard.

“What do you want?” you ask, and you hate how defensive you sound, how you can’t help but put a wall between you.

Joe’s eyes flicker, and he shoves his hands in his pockets, glancing down the hallway before he looks back at you. “Can we talk?” he asks, and you can’t tell if he’s asking because he wants to or because he thinks he has to. “Please?”

You hesitate, every part of you screaming to slam the door in his face, to tell him to go to hell. “Talk?” you echo, as though the very idea is laughable. “What’s there to talk about, Joe?”

He shifts uncomfortably, his hands still deep in his pockets. “I just—” He sighs, running a hand through his hair. For once, he doesn’t look cocky or composed. He looks tired. “I screwed up, okay? I know that. And I just… I want to make things right.”

You laugh bitterly, shaking your head. “Now you care about making things right? Weeks later? Where was this when you were busy humiliating me in front of everyone at Wes’s party?”

Joe flinches, and the sight of it sends a small, mean thrill through you. You want him to feel every ounce of the anger and hurt that’s been simmering inside you since that night.

“I was drunk,” he mutters, like it’s an excuse. “You know I didn’t mean half the shit I said.”

“Oh, so you only mean half of it?” Your voice rises despite yourself, and you take a step closer. “Which half, Joe? The part where you said Wes was too good for me? Or the part where you implied I’m some kind of charity case?”

Joe groans, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “That’s not what I meant! You’re twisting it—”

“I’m twisting it?” Your laugh is sharp, humorless. “No, Joe. I’m finally calling you out on your crap. You think you can just waltz in here, throw out a half-assed apology, and I’m supposed to forget how you treated me? Newsflash: I’m done being your punching bag.”

“Punching bag?” His voice spikes, and you can see his patience starting to fray. “Are you kidding me? You think I don’t care about you? That I’d say that stuff to hurt you on purpose?”

“Then why did you say it?” you snap, stepping closer until you’re almost toe to toe. “Why, Joe? If you care so much, why do you always find a way to make me feel like I’m not enough?”

He stares at you, his jaw tightening, his chest rising and falling as he tries to keep his temper in check. But then he snaps, his voice loud enough to make you flinch. “Because you drive me crazy, alright? You’re in my head all the damn time, and it’s like I can’t think straight when I’m around you!”

You’re stunned into silence, your heart pounding in your chest. The air between you crackles with something electric, something you can’t name but can feel in every nerve of your body.

Joe’s eyes are blazing, his chest heaving as he takes a step closer. “You think I wanted this? That I wanted to feel like this about you? I didn’t, okay? But I do. And it scares the hell out of me.”

You swallow hard, your throat dry. “Joe…”

He shakes his head, his voice softening just a fraction. “I’m sorry, alright? For all of it. I just—I didn’t know how to deal with this, with you.”

You don’t know who moves first, but suddenly, the space between you is gone. Joe’s hands are on your arms, his grip firm but not rough, and you’re looking up at him, your breath catching in your throat.

Joe doesn’t step back. He doesn’t let the anger rise again. He stays close, his hands still resting on your arms, his grip grounding and firm. His gaze softens, something vulnerable breaking through the tension in his voice.

“You think I like being the guy who gets under your skin?” he asks, his voice low, but there’s no bite to it now. Only honesty. “You think I enjoy pissing you off just for fun?”

You stare at him, caught off guard by the sudden shift, the rawness in his tone. “Don’t you?”

Joe lets out a sharp exhale, shaking his head. “No. That’s just the only way you ever seem to notice me.” His words hit like a punch to the gut, and your breath hitches. “If I’m not in your face, annoying the hell out of you, it’s like I don’t even exist to you.”

You open your mouth to argue, but nothing comes out. He’s too quick, too honest, and you don’t have a defense ready for the truth.

“That’s why I invite them over,” he continues, and there’s no cockiness in the admission. Just exhaustion. “Those girls, the loud music, the stupid games—it’s not because I want them. It’s because I’m trying to get you to see me. To pay attention. Even if it’s just so you can yell at me.”

Your stomach twists, a lump forming in your throat. You want to stay mad, to cling to your anger like a shield, but it’s slipping through your fingers. Joe doesn’t stop; he steps closer, so close now that you can feel the heat radiating off him.

“I don’t know how else to get through to you,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. “And I’m tired, okay? I’m tired of pretending like I don’t care when I do. So much more than I should.”

Your breath catches, and your heart pounds in your chest like a drum. You don’t know what to say, what to feel. Joe watches you, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips, his hesitation palpable. And then, before you can process what’s happening, his lips are on yours.

It’s not rough or demanding like you might have expected. It’s soft, tentative, as if he’s afraid you’ll pull away. His hands slide from your arms to your waist, anchoring you gently, and you can feel the tension in his body as he holds back.

For a moment, you freeze, torn between the urge to push him away and the overwhelming need to lean into him. But then your walls crack, and you kiss him back, your hands clutching at the front of his shirt as if it’s the only thing keeping you grounded.

Joe pulls back just enough to look at you, his forehead resting against yours. His breathing is unsteady, his expression a mix of relief and something deeper. Without a word, he steps forward, his hands tightening around your waist as he gently pushes you through the door.

You don’t resist. You can’t.

He closes the door behind him with a quiet click, then sweeps you off your feet in one swift, effortless motion. You let out a small gasp, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck as he carries you down the hall toward your bedroom.

“Joe…” you begin, but he silences you with a look—a look so tender, so unlike the Joe you thought you knew, that your words die on your lips.

By the time he lays you down on the bed, the anger and frustration from moments ago have evaporated, replaced by something else entirely. Something that hums between you like a live wire.

He hovers over you, his weight supported by his arms on either side of your head. His eyes search yours, silently asking for permission, for understanding. And when you nod, so small and uncertain, he dips his head to kiss you again, this time deeper, more sure of himself.

Your hands find their way to his hair, tugging gently as he trails his lips down your jaw, your neck, every touch making your pulse race. He’s careful, almost reverent, as if afraid to break the fragile moment you’re sharing.

And for the first time, you let yourself believe that maybe—just maybe—Joe Burrow isn’t the selfish, cocky guy you thought he was. Maybe, behind all the bravado, he’s just a boy who wanted you to see him. And now, you finally do.

Joe’s lips trail along the curve of your neck, leaving a warm, electric path in their wake. He takes his time, his breath hot against your skin, and every deliberate touch makes your pulse thunder louder in your ears.

His hands glide over your waist, fingers pressing lightly, almost teasing as they trace the hem of your shirt. You feel his smile against your neck when you squirm slightly beneath him, a soft laugh rumbling in his chest.

“You’re quiet all of a sudden,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing. “No more yelling? No smart remarks?”

You swallow hard, trying to find some semblance of control, but the way his hands move, the way his lips hover so close yet don’t quite touch, leaves you breathless. “Maybe I just don’t have anything to say to you right now,” you shoot back, though your voice wavers.

Joe chuckles, lifting his head to look at you, his blue eyes glinting with mischief. “Oh, I don’t believe that for a second,” he says, his thumb brushing over the strip of skin where your shirt has ridden up. “You’ve always got something to say to me. Even if it’s just to tell me to fuck off.”

You glare at him, but it’s half-hearted, your resolve crumbling as he dips his head again, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “I like it when you get all fired up,” he whispers, his tone teasing. “But I think I like this quiet side of you even more.”

You huff, trying to ignore the way your body betrays you, leaning into him despite yourself. “You’re so full of yourself.”

Joe smirks, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. His hand slides under your shirt, fingers grazing your skin, and you shiver at the contact. “Maybe,” he admits, his tone smug, “but you’re still here, aren’t you?”

You want to retort, to wipe that cocky grin off his face, but before you can, he shifts his weight, his lips capturing yours again. This time, the kiss is slower, deeper, and you feel the teasing edge in his movements as he kisses you until you forget whatever comeback you had planned.

His fingers inch higher, tracing light patterns on your stomach, deliberately avoiding the places where you want him most. It’s infuriating, how easily he has you unraveling, and when he pulls back just enough to smirk down at you, you let out an exasperated groan.

“You’re infuriating,” you mutter, tugging at his shirt in frustration.

Joe leans down, his nose brushing against yours, his lips curling into a playful grin. “But you’re not telling me to stop.”

He shifts again, his hands sliding up to frame your face as he kisses you once more. His lips are soft but insistent, drawing you in until all you can focus on is him—his weight pressing you into the mattress, the warmth of his skin, the way his touch sets every nerve in your body alight.

“Say the word,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice soft but laced with a challenge. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”

You stare up at him, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. But the word never comes. Instead, you pull him down again, your fingers threading through his hair as you kiss him with all the pent-up frustration, anger, and longing that’s been building between you for weeks.

Joe groans softly, his hands sliding down your sides, his teasing touch giving way to something more intentional. “That’s what I thought,” he murmurs against your lips, his tone smug but laced with something warmer, something that makes your stomach flip.

Joe's lips find yours again, the kiss deepening as his teasing facade begins to slip. His hands roam your body with more purpose now, fingertips pressing into your skin like he’s memorizing every curve. He nips lightly at your bottom lip, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Still hate me?” he whispers, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver down your spine. He moves back slowly, before pulling off your leggings, his eyes never leaving yours.

You bite back a moan, refusing to give him the satisfaction of an answer. Instead, you pull him closer, your nails grazing the back of his neck, and the quiet groan he lets out is enough to make your pulse race.

The leggings are long forgotten now, leaving you exposed in your underwear. Joe chuckles softly, his breath fanning against your lips as he trails kisses along your jaw, then lower, his teeth scraping lightly against the sensitive skin of your neck. His tongue follows, soothing the faint sting, and the combination has your hands fisting in his shirt.

“You’re not as tough as you act, you know,” he teases, his voice dripping with amusement. His hands slide beneath your shirt, his palms warm against your bare skin as he pushes the fabric up slowly. “I think you like this way more than you’re letting on.”

“You talk too much,” you manage to gasp, but your retort loses its bite when his thumb grazes just beneath your ribs, sending a rush of heat through your body.

Joe pulls back just enough to tug your shirt over your head, tossing it carelessly to the side. He takes a moment to look at you, his blue eyes dark and filled with something you can’t quite name, and for a second, the teasing smirk is gone, replaced by something softer.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he murmurs, almost to himself, and the sincerity in his voice catches you off guard.

Your breath hitches, and you feel your cheeks flush under his gaze. Before you can overthink it, his lips are on you again, softer this time but no less insistent. His hands trace slow, deliberate patterns along your sides, his thumbs brushing just beneath the band of your bra, and you arch into his touch without meaning to.

Joe grins against your skin, clearly pleased with your reaction. “That’s more like it,” he murmurs, his lips trailing lower as he presses kisses down your neck, across your collarbone, and then to the edge of the fabric.

He pauses, glancing up at you as his fingers toy with the clasp, his expression both playful and questioning. “Tell me if you want me to stop,” he says again, his tone softer now, without the usual cockiness.

But stopping is the furthest thing from your mind. Instead, you pull him down to you, your lips crashing into his with a fervor that answers his unspoken question.

Joe groans against your mouth, his hands moving to unclasp your bra with surprising ease, and you feel the shift in his demeanor as his teasing gives way to something more raw, more urgent. His lips trail lower, leaving a path of heat in their wake, and every deliberate touch has your body humming with anticipation.

“Still hate me?” he asks again, his voice rough and teasing, but there’s a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes as he looks up at you.

You reach for him, your fingers threading through his hair as you pull him closer. “Shut up, Joe,” you whisper, your voice breathless but firm, and for once, he listens.

Joe's smirk returns, but it’s softer now, laced with something warmer than his usual arrogance. He lets out a quiet laugh, the sound low and full of disbelief, as if he can’t quite believe where the night has led. But he doesn’t argue. Instead, he lets his lips and hands do the talking, his touch reverent but still filled with that undeniable fire that seems to burn between you.

He slowly pulls away, looking up at you with a small smirk before he gets up. Before you could start questioning him, he takes off his shirt and sweats swiftly, your eyes widening at his body.

Joe’s smirk deepens as he catches the way your eyes widen, lingering on his toned frame. His confidence seems to grow with every second you stay silent, your gaze betraying the sharp tongue you usually use to deflect him. He steps closer, his movements slow and deliberate, as if giving you time to drink him in.

“You’re staring,” he teases, his voice low and teasing, though his eyes burn with something more primal. “I knew you liked looking at me, but this is a new level.”

You roll your eyes, but the heat rushing to your cheeks gives you away. “Don’t flatter yourself,” you mutter, trying to sound dismissive, but your voice wavers slightly, betraying the effect he has on you.

Joe chuckles, leaning down to brace his hands on either side of you, his face inches from yours. “Too late for that,” he says, his tone dripping with satisfaction. “You’ve already done it for me.”

Before you can fire back, he trails his hand down your side, fingers skimming over your waist and hip with maddening slowness. He presses a kiss to your collarbone, then another to the swell of your chest, each one softer than the last, as if he’s savoring the way you shiver beneath his touch.

You can feel his hardened bulge against your stomach, and you're just about done with his teasing. You need him, now. “Joe,” you whined as he pulls back with a smirk.

“You drive me crazy, you know that?” he says, his voice low and raw. “But I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

Before you can reply, his lips are on yours again, his kiss stealing whatever snarky comeback you might have had. His hands move with purpose, sliding over every inch of bare skin, and the slow, deliberate way he touches you has your body aching for more.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispers against your lips, the words a quiet challenge. But you don’t. You can’t.

Instead, you pull him closer, your fingers tangling in his hair as you kiss him with all the frustration and longing you’ve been holding back for weeks. Joe groans, the sound vibrating against your lips as his teasing slips away entirely, replaced by something deeper, more desperate.

“God, you’re impossible,” he mutters, his voice laced with both exasperation and awe. But his actions betray the truth—he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He finally pulls away, breathless as he gazes down at you, his eyes filled with adoration and lust. “I'm gonna fuck you, alright?” he mutters before leaning closer. “And for all those times you pissed me off, and annoyed me, I'll forget about all of that if I can just... hear you.”

You're caught off by the request and you almost think he's joking, but you're mistaken. He's dead serious. All you could was nod slowly in response and Joe leans away, pleased.

Joe’s control starts to slip, and it’s evident in the way his kisses grow hungrier, more urgent. His hands tremble slightly as they trail over your body, mapping out every curve like he’s afraid this moment will disappear. He pulls back just enough to look at you, his pupils blown wide and his breathing uneven.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he whispers, his voice raw, the cocky edge completely gone. “You’ve been driving me insane for months.”

Then finally, he slowly peels off his briefs, and his large, hardened cock falls out.

Joe lets out a small groan as his head falls back, relief in his expression. His pink tip is already leaking with pre-cum. You practically faint at the sight, you couldn't help but let out a whimper. His hands find his cock before he slowly begins to pump it, his eyes finding yours again.

He spreads your legs open before leaning in, his lips finding yours as his hands lead his cock to your cunt. His forehead falls against yours as he slowly begins to insert himself, a heavenly groan leaving his lips at the feeling of your warm, tight walls.

You felt like you were being split in half, in the best way possible. You can't even describe how good his cock felt, he wasn't even a quarter inside of you, but you still felt like you were filled to the brim.

“O-oh, fuck, Joey,” you moaned as your swollen lips form an O, your head falling back onto the plush pillows. Now you understood why the girls in his apartment were so loud—they definitely weren't exaggerating.

His hands grip your hips firmly, pulling you closer as if he wasn't inside of you already. His lips crash against yours again, the kiss filled with desperation, like he’s trying to pour every suppressed emotion into it. It’s intoxicating, the way his need for you feels almost overwhelming, and you find yourself clutching at his shoulders, wanting to be as close as possible.

He bottoms you out slowly, and he tries to give you a second to adjust—he really, really tried. He just couldn't. He slowly started thrusting in and out of you, and before you could even process the change in speed, he was rocking his hips against yours like the world depended on it.

The bed was creaking loudly underneath the two of you, the only sounds that could be heard was your loud moans, his grunts of pleasure, and the sound of skin against skin.

His cock was dizzying, to say the least. It hit all the spots you swore nobody had ever reached, making you question all your previous partners. You couldn't even form a singular thought about anything else except for Joe's huge cock and the way he was making you feel.

“Joe!” You manage to gasp as he begins to pound into you impossibly harder, but he cuts you off with another kiss, groaning softly against your lips.

“Say my name again,” he demands, his voice husky and edged with desperation. He leans down, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that makes you gasp as his hands spread your legs wider, pinning you to the mattress.

Before you can respond, his lips are on yours again, his kisses growing more frantic, more needy. His hands are everywhere, exploring, worshipping, as if he’s afraid this moment might slip away. The way he touches you, the way he whispers your name like a prayer, leaves you utterly undone.

His words make your head spin, and you can’t find a response. You're too caught up in the way he was pounding into you, like a fucking animal.

But Joe doesn’t seem to care; he’s too caught up in you, his hips moving faster and faster until you're practically crying out loud. His hands roam your body as if he’s memorizing every curve, every inch of skin. There’s no pretense now, no games—just raw, unfiltered desire.

You begin to feel the knot in your stomach begin to form, tight and persistent. You begin to grip his shoulders even tighter, your head falling back into the pillow as you moaned.

“O-oh, fuck! I'm gonna cum, please.” You began rambling as your legs wrapped around his waist, his hips not faltering one bit—if anything, he began going faster.

“Yeah? Gonna cum for me, pretty girl?” He grunted out, his own impending orgasm. “Cum for me, baby.”

That was all you needed. The knot in your stomach snapped violently, your whole body spasming as you cried out in utter pleasure. The orgasm washed over you perfectly as Joe's hips began to falter, and a few moments later, his cum spilled into you.

You both lie there, tangled in the sheets, your breathing ragged and your hearts racing as the room settles into a heavy, satisfied silence. Joe’s arm is draped lazily across your stomach, his fingers tracing light, absentminded patterns on your skin. The intimacy feels different now—softer, quieter, as if the storm that had built between you for so long had finally passed.

He exhales deeply, his chest still rising and falling against your side. “Well,” he says, his voice low and hoarse, “that was... long overdue.”

You glance over at him, your lips twitching into a faint smile despite yourself. “You think?” you reply dryly, the lingering warmth of the moment making it hard to muster the sharp edge your tone usually carries with him.

Joe turns his head to look at you, his hair mussed and sticking out in every direction, his cheeks still flushed. There’s that cocky grin of his, but it’s softer now, tinged with something you don’t think you’ve seen before—contentment, maybe. “Yeah,” he says, chuckling lightly. “So overdue I’m almost mad at us for waiting this long.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the laugh that escapes you. His grin widens as he props himself up on one elbow, leaning over you. His gaze flicks across your face, and he reaches out, brushing a strand of hair away from your cheek. “But hey,” he says, his voice taking on a playful tone, “now that I’ve finally got you right where I want you, I think it’s time to make this official.”

Your brow furrows slightly as you tilt your head at him. “Official?”

Joe nods solemnly, though the sparkle in his eyes gives him away. “Yup. A real date. No fighting, no yelling, no storming off. Just you, me, and a public setting where we try very hard not to tear each other’s clothes off.”

You snort, shoving his shoulder lightly. “Oh, is that so?”

“That’s so,” he replies with a grin, catching your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours. His thumb brushes over your knuckles, his gaze softening. “Come on, let me take you out. I’ll even behave. Swear.”

You arch a skeptical brow, though the warmth in your chest betrays you. “Behave? You? I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Joe leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment. “Guess you’ll just have to say yes and find out,” he murmurs, his voice teasing but undeniably sincere.

You roll your eyes again, but there’s no hiding the small smile that tugs at your lips. “Fine,” you say, trying to sound reluctant but failing miserably. “One date. But if you embarrass me, it’s the last one.”

Joe’s grin is blinding as he flops back down beside you, pulling you against his chest. “Deal,” he says, his voice full of triumph. “You won’t regret it. Best date of your life, guaranteed.”

You shake your head, laughing softly. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love it,” he counters, his tone smug as his hand tightens around yours.

Maybe, just maybe, he’s right.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

#jb5 #nfl fic #nfl football #nfl lb #nfl imagine #joe burrow bengals #cincinnati bengals #joeyb #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow smut #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow #joe burrow x you #joe burrow x y/n #joe burrow x oc

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ghostfacd · 1 year ago

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SHE WAS LIKE A SHOT OF EPRESSO

pairing. tom blyth x actress!fem!reader (mentions of other actors x fem!reader platonically)

summary. in which you are the epitome of sunshine and radiance within your co stars OR all the times your co stars have talked interviewers’ ears off about you

installment of this au | read for context!

Time 1: Tom Blyth

“How’s Y/N as a cast mate?”

That question shouldn’t make Tom Blyth smile that wide — but he does — because he’s so utterly and unconditionally inlove with you.

“Oh gosh, I wouldn’t even know where to start,” Tom begins. “As her boyfriend, I think I’m being pretty biased when I say this, but Y/N Avocot as a cast mate has honestly been the best experience of my life. There has not been a day where she doesn’t make me laugh so hard that my ribs start hurting, and there hasn’t been a day where she hasn’t made me smile.” He pauses for a moment, pondering the next words to say.

“Y/N’s just that type of person, you know? She’s like the warm sunlight that engulfs you every morning you open your curtains, she’s like that newly brewed coffee that helps hydrate and bring you back to life. She’s everything.” And he says this in such a loving manner that the interviewer practically awes, the cameraman zooming the camera to show Tom’s dilated pupil.

“Your pupils are dilated!” The interviewer mentions, laughing as she points towards his eyes.

“Oxytocin is a warm hormone that’s released when you talk about someone you love,” Tom shrugs. “All my friends say my pupils dilate when I’m near Y/N, that’s just the effect she has on people.”

“Well there it is folks! Tom Blyth is truly inlove with Y/N Avocot!”

Time 2: Sean Kaufman and Lola Tung

It was an interview discussing the new season of The Summer I Turned Pretty, and it consisted of Sean and Lola who’s schedules were the only ones that were open that day.

“Guys! We’re so happy to have you today,” the interviewer starts.

“Why thank you,” Lola smiles brightly into the camera, smoothing out her dress.

“So obviously, this season is very important to the plot, it contains so much new exciting storylines including Sean’s character, Steven Conklin, and Y/N’s character, Ella!”

“Yes,” Sean laughs, his eyes crinkling. “It was very fun filming the scenes with Y/N, she’s like that little rush of happiness that you just wanna keep inside a jar.”

“Actually!” Lola speaks up, crossing one leg over the other as she leans forward to the interviewer. “Now that Sean’s mentioning it, Y/N really is a rush of happiness. God, everyday on set, I always think ‘I’m gonna probably have to say my lines over a thousand times and be tired by the time I’m done’ but Y/N comes right in, and she’s always making funny faces behind the director which just fills my heart with joy and it’s those little moments that make acting really worth it you know? Like even though I’m dying re filming the same scene over and over again — I know that Y/N’s always going to cheer me up by the end of it.”

“Wow,” the interviewer laughs. “I haven’t even asked you guys about Y/N yet but she seems to be very loved by the crew.”

“Oh yeah,” Sean nods. “Everyone filming loves her. I mean, how could you not?”

And the interviewer thinks the same question, because after interviewing Tom Blyth, she really believes that you really cannot not love Y/N Avocot.

Time 3: Timothee Chalamet

“Timo!” The interviewer greets Timothee excitedly, moving the chair so he could sit.

“Jacob! My favorite interviewer,” and maybe Timothee’s lying, because he’s seen about a million interviewers by now, but it makes Jacob smile, not so much hating his job anymore.

“Your new movie, Miracles in Love, can you tell me more about that?”

“Yes,” Timothee takes a deep breath. “It’s about a boy and girl in their early twenties figuring out what they wanna be in life. My character, Louie Marcel, falls inlove with my co star — Y/N’s character — Maeve Jones after they bump into each other at the bar and talk about how depressing their lives are. It’s pretty funny, y’know. How easy it was to film with Y/N, in fact, it came all naturally.” Timothee pauses, a small smile playing on his lips.

“When you say naturally, what exactly do you mean by that?”

“Oh you know Jacob,” Timothee grins. “It’s easy to fall inlove with Y/N Avocot. She’s a remarkable actress, and everything that I filmed with her feels so real that it feels like I’m really Louie and I’m really falling inlove with a girl named Maeve at the local bar near my university.”

“Oh wow,” Jacob, the interviewer, can’t help but gush at Timothee’s endearing statement. “You must be very good friends.”

“Us? Of course!” He laughs as if it was one of the funniest statements on earth. “I’m really good friends with her boyfriend too, Tom. They’re honestly the sweetest couple, don’t know if I’m inlove with him or her. Maybe both,” he jokes.

bellyapologist oh to be yn avocot and be so loved by her cast mates that they’re smiling each time they talk about her

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user1 literally like how do you not cry when you’re being called a literal rush of happiness

user2 lola and sean being so excited to talk about her even though the interviewer didn’t start the interview yet 😭

user3 shows that yn is rly a good person

timotheesgf YN AVOCOT LET ME BE YOU PLEASEEEE LOOK AT HOW TIMOTHEE TALKS ABT HER GOD LIFE IS NOT FAIR

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user4 “it’s easy to fall inlove with yn avocot” FUCKKKKK

user5 “everything I filmed with her feels so real” oh tom and kylie are punching the air rn

user9 she must’ve saved a planet in her past life cause..

user10 same energy as “she was like a shot of espresso” 😭😭😭😔😔😔

#Coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow angst #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow x reader #tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #tbosbas #the hunger games x reader #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet

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shierajones · 10 months ago

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Rise of Red

So I’m watching this movie and doing Simone Biles levels of mental gymnastics to make this all connect to the original story and have the plot holes fill in. Here are my attempts at cohension from the beginning:

SPOILERS!!!!

It’s been 30 years since Auradon was founded.

The math isn’t mathing but sure, let’s say after D3, everyone went on adventures, Ben and Mal got married and they all took time to mature and grow in their roles. As the years have passed, they recognize what a terrible job Beast did as a leader and they want to increase trade and foreign relations with other countries.

Uma says that Ben and Mal put her in charge of everything while they (along with Evie and Jay) are making alliances with other countries.

Of course! Because Beast sucks as a leader so they don’t trust him to take back over even if only temporarily. Gil and Harry (and most of the pirates we’ve seen) are missing from Uma’s crew, because she asked them to help Ben and Mal on their journey. Hook is serving as Captain in Uma’s absence and Jay and Gil have grown very close since traveling Auradon together through the years so it makes sense.

Chad is Cinderella and Charming’s son, but Chloe will one day be queen of Cinderellasburg.

Cinderella and Charming had fertility issues at first and Chad is adopted. Chloe is their miracle baby and, though younger, is the true-born heir to the throne. They love and support Chad in all things and have pampered him his whole life. Given the struggles they had to conceive, they don’t regret showering Chad with love but they recognize he’s a bit spoiled and not fit to be king one day.

The future shows Red and the Queen of Hearts ruling on the throne together. I guess we’re assuming since she’s black and red it means she’s evil.

We never actually see that this future is prevented. The ultimate endgame may still be the same, that Red rules with her mother. I’m going to say, this future was not prevented, just that the Queen of Hearts turn to evil was delayed.

In the past, many of the heroes and villains that we know are in high school together.

Many but not all. This is just a blip in their histories and the stories to come in the future are still canon. We don’t actually see any of the villain/hero pairs (Maleficent & Aurora) (Hook & Peter Pan) (Hades & Hercules) so outside of two couples being established (Jasmine and Aladdin in love and Ella and Charming flirtation/mutual pining) there’s nothing that makes some of the stories automatically false. I’d say some of the events in high school just blacken their hearts more and turn them into real villains.

Bridget and Ella’s personalities seem to be switched (with a more evil skew on Bridget’s end as an adult). This one is long.

Ella was Bridget’s only friend and because she was grounded, she wasn’t supposed to be able to make it to the Castlecoming. She cancels on Bridget and leaves her alone. However, Fairy Godmother is also friends with Ella and has been practicing her magic more and is now in possession of a powerful spellbook (more on that later). She wants a way to help her and is finally successful casting an enchantment that gets Cinderella to the dance for a short time. When her curfew hits, the spell will be reversed and send her home. When she gets to the dance, instead of finding Bridget, she gets caught up in Charming and after the song playing changes to So This is Love, they share their first dance. The two are so engrossed in each other and discovering their feelings are mutual that she doesn’t notice anyone or anything else. However, Bridget sees her and is excited at first until she realizes Ella isn’t seeking her out. She’s stuck on Charming. The song playing when Ella walked in is Shuffle of Love and Bridget is trying to focus but makes a mistake. She turns again to Ella to see if she’ll jump in and help but she’s still too distracted by Charming. Left heartbroken she moves and just watches them on the dance floor while staying isolated on the sidelines. She tries to ignore her feelings because she should be happy for Ella but she can’t stop crying a little. She should’ve been there for her. Isn’t that what friends are for? Then, Uliana comes to talk to her and seemingly comfort her. For a second, she thinks she’s coming around to be her friend. She doesn’t think twice when she offers her a cupcake. Suddenly she’s transformed to a monster and everyone around her starts laughing. Ella and Charming’s attention is finally broken from each other and they turn to see what’s going on. Upon seeing this monster, they laugh too thinking it’s just a prank—with no idea who the monster is. But Bridget’s last shred of hope is broken seeing her only friend laugh at her pain after ignoring her the whole night. When Ella finally realizes who it is, she tries to run after her and loses her shoe. She almost catches her to comfort her but then is whisked away by Fay’s spell and finds herself back at, sitting in the barn. Ella, still grounded is left feeling a mixture of joy, love, pain and regret from the events of the night. She can’t contact Bridget or see her until school starts again on Monday. By Monday it’s too late. Bridget, having spent the weekend with no one to talk to or comfort her decides Love Ain’t It and takes on a new mantra for her life. She looks into the Looking Glass and sees her evil future with her daughter. Fine, if that’s what she becomes, why try? At school, Ella tries to apologize and beg for forgiveness but it’s too late. She tries to tell her how her kindness made her strong, how she’s always respected that about her and loves her like a sister but it’s not enough. She tries to show her with her actions. She takes on the persona Bridget always had because it was good, it was kind, it was true strength. She doesn’t want to suffer for one mistake and doesn’t want Bridget to allow that night to define her, but again, it’s too late. Bridget already knows how this story ends and it’s not with love and friendship. She decides to let the fear and power be her friend and becomes the worst bully they’ve ever seen.

Uliana and her crew were troublemakers so would never have been able to open the spellbook and prank Bridget.

Before Red and Chloe showed up, Uliana and her crew were going to lure someone else in to get the book. Fay! They manipulated her with fear and hope—the promise that she could use the Sorcerer’s book when they were done to perfect her magic. So she did it, just like her daughter tried to take the wand in D1.

Merlin just lets Red and Chloe into school, partners them with their mothers “coincidentally” and sees the open window after the break in but doesn’t try to find out who else was able to escape.

He’s aware that Red and Chloe are time travelers and knows there’s a reason to change the timeline as they have. He knows what’s to come with Beast banning magic and shipping off the villains. He wants to change that story too and these girls are the catalysts. This change in history is going to open the doors for magic to be welcomed back to Auradon in the future as they return and have to fix what they’ve changed.

#descendants rise of red #rise of red #descendants #brandy cinderella #chloe charming #chad charming #red descendants #auradon #merlin academy #bridget descendants #uliana descendants #uma descendants #queen of hearts

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leahsgf · 11 months ago

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MAMMY'S GIRL - mcfoord

mcfoord x child!reader | a snippet of a chaotic travel day

“don’t run too fast now kid, stay with me.” your auntie teyah huffed, gripping onto the reins attached to your beloved ‘special’ backpack for dear life as you charged your way through the airport, with an alarming amount of strength for a just turned three year old - giggling as she visibly struggled to keep up with you.

bringing their toddler on an over twenty hour flight to the other side of the world for one football game was potentially the last thing on earth that your mothers had wanted to do.

however, with both of them being named in the squad for the friendly in australia, and your auntie ella barely being trusted to look after coopurr on her own - here they were.

katie cackled as teyah accepted defeat against you after tripping over her feet one too many times, shaking her head and letting you be scooped up by no other than kyra, who repeatedly threw you in the air and proceeded to chase poor steph most of the way to the gate with you in tow, making you squeal with laughter, and caitlin wince ever so slightly - knowing that after katie flew back to ireland for international break she’d be stuck with this alone.

getting to the plane with everyone in one piece alone felt like a win in their eyes, even as you clambered all over vic and pulled at teyah’s compression leggings (copying exactly what kyra had told you to do) and then dropped alessia’s phone down the side of her seat beyond reach within the first five minutes.

steph had pretty much been following your every move for her little vlog that she was doing, knowing that the fans always loved seeing bits of you and the chaos that ensured, and also - that nobody not present would believe the stories of everything you got up to without video proof.

you toddled behind her as she made her way down the aisle, stopping as you reached your parents.

“c’mere then, my little monster. it’s sleep time for you”

you allowed katie to scoop you up into her arms with no fuss whatsoever, instantly being calmed as she held you to her chest.

and with your dummy being passed over by caitlin, and a featherlight stroke of your cheek - you were out like a light in seconds, bundled in your mother’s arms, and looking so peaceful that it was almost hard to believe how much carnage you'd been causing for the last few hours.

“how do you do it? she was just charging around like she’d never settle - you’re a miracle worker!” steph exclaimed, looking into the camera in complete disbelief at what she’d just witnessed.

“nah, she’s just a mammy’s girl through and through!” katie chuckled, smoothing the back of your mini arsenal jersey as you sprawled out on top of her, praying that the rest of the flight goes this smoothly.

this is what i like to call a random little blurb because i had no inspiration to finish it

in the process of setting up a masterlist finally

#katie mccabe x reader #caitlin foord x reader #mcfoord #mcfoord x reader #woso x reader #arsenal wfc x child reader #arsenal wfc x reader #woso imagine #katie mccabe x child reader #caitlin foord x child reader #matildas x reader

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moonlight-prose · 8 months ago

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hi! just watched someone like you last night & i saw your requests were open for eddie 😫

either:

1. "did you just wash these sheets?" "i did." "they smell nice. and they're still warm."

2. "we should really get up." "we should....but we won't."

whichever you like better!! they both screammm eddie to me

love is here to stay

a/n: what i wouldn't give to cuddle with this man in the mornings. possibly making him late for work as other things ensue. and i've always tied jazz songs to movies from the early 2000s and 90s. so this is based off the ella fitzgerald & louis armstrong song. i fear i'm down bad for this man and would love to have him be my boyfriend.

summary: mornings where the summer heat was unbearable and energy was nowhere to be founr, made getting up a difficult task. add a sleepy eddie and a multitude of kisses and suddenly it became near impossible.

word count: 1k

pairing: eddie alden x reader

warnings: semi-explicit so 18+ ONLY!!, summer heat eviserating anything fun, banter, eddie being a fucking tease, sweat, he calls the pussy her, comfy loving scenario.

New York City roared to life on the other side of your apartment wall. Chatter of people shouting, horns of taxis already stuck in morning traffic. Not even your shut and locked window could block each noise that came through. It was a place that demanded to be heard the second the sun rose up in the dark blue sky.

You mumbled something unintelligible, hand reaching for the covers that were no doubt kicked to the bottom of the bed. Halfway through the night the air shut off—effectively making your place a hellscape with no chance of avoidance.

What began as a night filled with naked skin and fast bitten thrusts, turned to the both of you sleeping as far away as humanly possible. You were almost certain if you opened your eyes you'd find Eddie at the edge of the mattress—his body covered in a sheen of sweat. Matching you completely.

"Mm," he groaned into his pillow, flipping over to his side, an arm flinging around your bare waist. "You move too much."

"Shut up," you muttered.

You could feel the tendrils of a somewhat breeze filter in through the living room where you'd left the fire escape window open. Neither of you bothered to shut it after the glass of wine and shared cigarette turned to stripping him of his shirt and you of your pants. It felt like a miracle you made it to the bedroom at all—his body collapsing atop yours with a pained groan; hands grasping for any piece of plushness he could find.

"Make me." Even in sleep he managed to grin like a tease. His eyes shut and hand shifting to cup your bare ass. "Feels like you want to," he sighed around a half yawn.

You shuffled closer, cheek pressed to his chest. "Feels like the fuckin' world is on fire."

He tapped your ass. "That it is baby."

What little energy you could gather was bled from your body the longer you lay there. Summer eviscerated any means of joy in your life. What could you do? Hiding inside was all you had left in order to escape the heat. Now even that left you withering against his torso—body slick with sweat that would only return moments after you washed it off.

"Eddie," you yawned, throwing your arm over his stomach. He offered a grunt; the heat now muddling his brain and cutting off his ability to form words. "You work today?"

His arm raised above his head, onto the pillows beneath him. (Pillows he stole in the middle of the night.)

"I could," he sighed. "Got lots to do at work."

"Ah. I forgot. Big time hot shot."

The audible smack of his hand landing harder on your ass made you laugh; your leg kicking out to deter his attacks. He couldn't help it. Toying with your flesh was the highlight of his mornings. His eyes creeped open, lips tugging into a lazy grin that screamed drowsiness. Only to watch as he jiggled your flesh—fingers kneading at you like a fucking cat who just found the softest pillow in the world.

"Unless you intend to fuck me stupid Alden. I'd stop that."

His head fell back with a raspy groan. "Got no energy to fuck you stupid baby." You glanced at him, chin resting on his chest. "How about I just fuck ya? Huh?"

"Stupid or no deal," you mumbled.

"My cock is gonna be begging for you all day."

"Too bad." You smiled, pressing a kiss to the hair that nestled in between his pecs. "Shoulda thought of that before you didn't call the super to fix the fuckin' air."

His sigh was wistful—-relenting. "Yeah I know. I'll call 'em today."

The city took over your conversation when silence began to filter in between the cracks of your haven. In this small bedroom, you were safe. Content even as the warmth of your lover began to stick to your skin and cause discomfort. Moving wasn't an option. Nor was taking a cold shower.

So you remained there, listening to his heartbeat and feeling his chest rise and fall with each breath.

"We should really get up," he muttered, head turning to face the window.

The sun came through your sheer curtains, casting a shadow along the hardwood floor. You marveled at how picturesque it was—how heavenly.

"We should..." You placed another kiss against his skin, tasting the salt of his sweat along your tongue. He groaned, his eyes meeting yours. "But we won't."

"Baby," he breathed.

Your eyes narrowed. "Don't even think about it Eddie."

"C'mon!" he laughed. "Lemme eat your pussy. I'll be really nice to her."

"Fuck off. 'S too hot." You buried your face into his skin, biting back the peal of laughter he could tell lay on the tip of your tongue.

"All I'm saying is she's never not liked my tongue down there."

The loud smack you land to his stomach causes a howl of laughter to erupt from his chest. His body rolling over to trap you beneath him—pressing you down into the mattress as he bit at your neck. Another echo of the city poured in through the open door, cracking through the bubble you both resided in. But the feel of Eddie trailing kisses down your stomach killed every sound that didn't belong to him.

"Too hot my ass," he mumbled along your hip bone, teeth scraping the skin hard enough to draw a moan from your lips. "It's never too hot to have something sweet, baby."

You smiled, curling your fingers into his hair. "I hate you."

"You love me," he retorted, drawing your thighs up and over his shoulders. "Admit it."

When he looked at you like this: eyes bright enough to put even the sun to shame. How could you say anything but yes?

#what i wouldn't give to live in this scenario with him #the unbearable weather totally didn't inspire this #eddie alden x reader #eddie alden x you #eddie alden x y/n #eddie alden #my writing #hugh jackman

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sportswriters · 5 months ago

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christmas surprise - p. gavi

pairing: pablo gavi x female!reader | fluff | established relationship | wc: 1.3k | warnings: none | a/n: hey, merry belated christmas! this scenario wasn't planned, but gavi did the miracle of posting a story and i got triggered to write it. hope you like it! - ella

you told gavi that you wouldn't be able to spend christmas with him or his family. things were tight at work and you hadn't been able to get a last-minute flight — that's all you told him, who believed you, letting his withered expression show on the video call, but he understood your reasons.

he promised you that he would call you on christmas night, because you would be alone in your cold apartment, even if he wanted to take the first flight from spain to germany, but you wouldn't let him. you liked the connection he had with his family and preferred him to spend the holiday with them.

however, you secretly planned a surprise.

you managed to get a last-minute flight and despite the rush to make it on time, everything worked out. he still didn't know that you were about to knock on his door, distracting him with replies to his texts, as if you were still in your cold apartment in germany— but you were standing in front of his house.

nervous, you pay the taxi driver and look at yourself, checking your simple, pretty dress, all red, thin straps. your makeup was simple and you were holding a wheelie suitcase, ready to spend the rest of the year there too, since you've managed to plan properly for it.

you check the clock on your phone screen, noting that it's a few hours before christmas. but they're already all gathered inside, like the family they were, and you take a deep breath and start walking, dragging your suitcase along. you hadn't seen him for almost five months, always exchanging messages or making video calls, because you needed to stay in germany for another year to finish your master's degree in psychology.

even though it was difficult, you managed to make the relationship work. every now and then, gavi also managed to get over to germany to see you and spend a quality weekend, but those five months were the longest without seeing each other. you weren’t even able to go watch him play the match in which he made a comeback from his injury.

but you watched it all on tv. then you called him and spent hours together on the phone, despite the time zone, until you went to sleep. you thought you wouldn't be able to keep it up for that long, but you liked the way things were working out, both of you working equally hard to make it happen. you just had to wait another year. another year and you'd be back in spain, putting an end to all the distance.

you raise your hand and finally knock on the door. it doesn't take long for them to answer and the person who opens the door is aurora, your dear sister-in-law, gavi's sister, who gives you a huge, instant smile when she sees you standing outside. surprise shows on her face, but it soon gives way to genuine happiness, because aurora has always shown how much she loves you.

“oh my god, but i thought...?” she tries to say, hugging you.

you laugh softly and ask her to keep it down.

“i know, i know,” you say quickly, trying to explain yourself. “but i wanted to surprise him, okay?”

aurora crushes you in her embrace, but releases you soon after, agreeing with a silent nod. she makes room and points with her head in the direction gavi is, so that you can go and make your surprise without anyone ruining it.

you leave your suitcase by the door and walk silently to the other side of the room. from the side, you can see him sitting in a cozy armchair, with mateo, his younger cousin, sitting on his lap. gavi is looking at the boy, while another cousin of his snaps a picture and you ask him not to say anything.

you walk silently closer, slowly, not wanting to give away your presence too quickly and when you get close enough, you sit on the arm of the armchair as soon as he moves his hand away and smiles quickly for the camera, but he notices the sudden movement and raises his eyes towards you.

at first, his expression is closed, but when he sees that it's you standing next to him, his expression softens, there's surprise in his eyes and his lips lift in an instant smile, just like aurora's.

“y/n?” he calls out, confused, as if he's afraid he's hallucinating your presence.

you smile. he slides mateo slowly out of his lap and stands up, not caring about anything else except pressing his lips to yours in a kiss you haven't experienced for five months. and five months is considered a long time.

you pull away, only to hold his face, your fingers touching the smooth skin. the smile he gives you is so bright that you can almost feel your heart bursting with love. he touches your cheek and kisses the corner of your mouth, hugging you properly. the people around just let you have this moment.

“i've missed you so much,” you whisper just for him to hear and feel him squeeze you around the waist. your eyes tear up with emotion.

“no more than me,” he says.

as he steps back, he smiles even more at you, that sparkle in his irises outshining any glittering christmas decorations around you. the atmosphere is pleasant, cozy and you notice how he's dressed, so casual, so beautiful.

“i should have worn that horrible christmas sweater of yours,” you say, jokingly, making him laugh.

he stares you down.

“i like this dress better,” he says. “i think it'll make my job easier later…”

“gavi!”

you understand the implicit suggestion and laugh, shaking your head, while he shows the innocent expression of someone who hasn't said anything too much. his hand finds yours, entwining your fingers as if he never wants to let go.

“you really came...” he murmurs, still trying to process your presence.

you nod, a smile playing on your lips.

“of course i came. couldn't let you spend christmas without me, could i?”

before you can say anything else, you're pulled out of the reunion bubble when aurora lets out an excited exclamation, attracting your attention. all the rest of the family were gathered around, waiting for their turn to hug you.

“a better surprise than this, impossible!” someone says in the middle of the small crowd, and you smile, feeling the warmth of the welcoming.

aurora approaches you again, hugging you. his mother is right behind, with a huge smile on her face.

“darling, i'm so glad you could make it!” mrs. gavira says, warmly.

you return her hug, but gavi doesn't let go of you for an instant. he remains by your side the whole time, observing your interaction with the rest of his family in silence, but with an expression of radiant happiness.

when everyone has finished talking to you, gavi finally takes you by the waist, leaving everyone alone again before christmas dinner is served.

“come here,” he calls, pulling you to sit on his lap, as soon as he sits back in the armchair. with his other free hand, he gently strokes your exposed thigh. “how long can you stay?”

you rest your hand on the back of his neck, brushing the skin with your thumb.

“until the first week of january,” you reply. “i thought we could make up for five months away from each other.”

his expression becomes radiant again.

“i'm having so many ideas…”

you start to laugh and hide your face in his neck, placing a tender kiss there. it still seems unbelievable that you actually managed to get there and that you were finally together, the longing crushing your chest like never before. you want to stay there forever.

“merry christmas, gavi.”

you realize that being there, surrounded by him and his family, is exactly where you always wanted to be.

#pablo gavi #pablo gavi imagines #pablo gavi scenarios #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi fluff #pablo gavi angst #football scenarios #football imagines #barcelona imagines #football drabbles #football blurbs #sportswriters ❤

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gospelhotspot · 1 year ago

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[Music + Video] E No Dey - Mr. M & Revelation Ft. Ella Miracle

Marking our 11th wedding anniversary today, it’s a privilege to have our daughter Ella Miracle deliver a powerful worship ‘E No Dey’. – Mr. M & Revelation In the past, Ella has collaborated with Mr. M & Revelation on tracks such as ‘My Helper‘ in 2023 and ‘You Are Yahweh’ in 2021. Ella is truly a talent to keep an eye on. She possesses exceptional vocal abilities and carries a powerful…

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#Ella Miracle #Gospel Video #Gospel Videos #Latest Gospel Videos #Mr. M & Revelation #Music Video #Naija Music Video

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rizzlesregal13 · 1 month ago

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Step One: Say No to Pets! Step Two: Welcome Home Señor Scratchy!

***Agatha x Reader 💜 When Nicki & Ella are desperate for a pet, one extremely cute (and very judgy) rabbit joins the Harkness family.***

What’s the one thing about parenthood no one warns you about, I hear you ask?

LEGO.

Tiny, malevolent blocks, engineered for maximum foot pain and perfectly camouflaged against hardwood floors.

I’m halfway down the stairs carrying a heavy basket of laundry—dirty laundry, which somehow, always feels heavier than clean—when my bare foot narrowly avoids one brick, only to slam directly into a second.

“Oh you mother fudger…” I hiss through clenched teeth, as I stumble forward. The basket tips, a sock threatens to make a break for it, but by some miracle…maybe actual magic… I manage to stay upright avoiding a full-blown tumble that would likely have resulted in me landing in a heap on the hallway floor.

I’m glaring murderously at the offending blue plastic when I hear them.

Tiny, high-pitched, scheming voices.

You promised, Mommy,” Ella’s voice piped up, tiny but firm with that unshakable four-year-old conviction.

“I did no such thing, darling,” Agatha replied, tone as dry as the Sahara. “I said we’d think about it. That’s practically a parental euphemism for never.”

I pause just before the living room doorway. Not because I’m eavesdropping… I totally am, but because I know this tone. I know her tone. It’s the one she uses when she’s being particularly patient with the kids. Or particularly devious. The line between the two is virtually invisible.

“…but why can’t we have a pet?” Nicki asks, his voice halfway between pleading and logic. “All my friends have one.”

Ella’s chiming in before Nicki even finishes. “I want a kitten, Mommy. A tiny one with big eyes, and a busy tail.”

I peek around the corner, laundry basket still cradled in my arms, threatening to topple with every shift. There she is, our daughter, sitting cross legged on the rug, back straight like she’s presenting her case to a court of law. Her little hands flying about for emphasis as she speaks.

Agatha sits behind her, legs tucked neatly to the side, not a flicker of magic in sight. Just her fingers, slender, precise, and uncharacteristically gentle, moving steadily through Ella’s dark hair, twisting it into a braid with the kind of patience she reserves exclusively for this tiny human who has her utterly bewitched in ways no magic ever could.

Agatha glances up at me for the briefest moment. Just enough time to flash that sideways smirk; the one that says, are you hearing this? and also yes, I’m encouraging it and no, I’m not sorry.

I sigh, loudly, and finally step into the room, setting the basket down with a thud that makes Nicki jump.

“We’ve talked about this,” I say, aiming my words mostly at Ella but with a warning glance toward Agatha, too. “You know I’m allergic to cats.”

Ella turns to me with the most devastating pout I’ve seen since the last time she couldn’t find her favourite stuffed animal.

“But you wouldn’t have to touch it,” she says, as if that solves everything.

Nicki jumps in, sensing his moment. “What about a dog then?”

“Dogs require a lot of care,” Agatha says, not missing a beat. “Walks twice a day, Grooming. Training. Pick-up-their-poop-in-a-bag kind of care. Are you two going to do that?”

Nicki and Ella exchange a quick glance, the kind that siblings somehow telepathically learn to do.

It means: we’re lying but let’s go with it.

“Yes,” they say in unison. Nicki even adding a “Totally” and Ella a “Every day… forever”

It’s cute. It’s bold. It’s complete fiction.

I snort and drop onto the sofa.

“You two can’t even remember to put your cereal bowls in the sink.”

“We can now,” Nicki promises, which is both touching and entirely unconvincing.

Agatha raises an eyebrow, looking at me. Her lips twitching in the way that means she’s enjoying this far too much.

“What about a goldfish?” I offer helpfully. “Low maintenance. Won’t trigger my allergies…”

Ella makes a face like I just offered her a wet sock. “That’s boring, Mama.”

“And it doesn’t even do anything,” Nicki adds. “It just… swims.”

“That’s sort of the point,” I mutter, pinching the bridge of my nose. “No fur. No barking. No dead mice on my pillow. Just peaceful swimming.”

They ignore me completely.

“A lizard?” Nicki says.

“A hamster” Ella counters.

“A snake!”

“A spider!”

“Like hell that one is happening!” I snap, a little too quickly.

Agatha lets out a soft laugh through her nose, as her fingers continue to braid.

“Oh, you walked right into that one.”

“Spiders,” I say, pointing at both of them, “are where I draw the line. Eight legs? Too many. Too fast. Too… just, no!.”

“But they eat flies,” Nicki says innocently.

“So do frogs,” I shoot back. “But I’m not about to let you bring a swamp home.”

“I knew you’d draw the line somewhere,” Agatha says under her breath, her voice low and smug with amusement, just for me. She doesn’t even need to look up from Ella’s braid to land the hit, but she does, of course. Just a flick of her blue eyes, a curl of her lip, and bam… my insides do that annoying flippy thing.

Even after all these years and two children, she still manages to make me feel like I’m about to spontaneously combust with one look.

I give her the kind of glare that has no real heat behind it. She knows. She always knows.

Meanwhile, the kids are still listing off creatures like they’re conjuring Noah’s Ark, but with more questionable judgment and fewer rules.

“A parrot!”

“A guinea pig”

“A turtle!”

“Oooh! A pigmy goat!”

Finally, Agatha claps her hands together, making Nicki and Ella jump.

“Alright,” she says. “New rule. If you both go upstairs and clean your rooms… properly, no stuffing things into the closet and calling it ‘tidy’, then maybe, we’ll go to the pet store.”

Cue the stampede.

Nicki’s halfway up the stairs before Agatha finishes the sentence, and Ella’s already shouting “I’m gonna need a box!” for reasons I just know, I don’t want to understand. I listen as doors slam and the sound of frantic cleaning erupts upstairs like a domestic hurricane.

I look at Agatha. “You’re seriously considering this?”

She shrugs. “Depends on what’s at the store. Maybe a rabbit. Maybe a two-headed snake.”

I raise a brow. “You love messing with me”.

Her lips curl into that familiar, wicked grin.

“Of course I do. It’s the cornerstone of our marriage.”

I shake my head, but I’m already smiling.

“Remind me why I married you again?”

Agatha leans in, her voice low and silky soft, all teasing warmth. “Because I make life interesting… And... because I look good in leather.

I roll my eyes, though my heart’s already doing that annoying fluttering thing it does when she turns the charm up to eleven.

“You do look good in leather.”

“Mm.” She smirks. “I know.”

She rises from the floor with her usual grace before dropping down beside me on the sofa.

Closer than close.

Her thigh brushing mine, her perfume curling around me like a spell I never want broken. She leans in, slow and deliberate, her lips barely ghosting over mine, but just enough to set every nerve in my body on high alert. Her blue eyes flick up to meet mine, daring me to close the distance. To give in.

I’m about to…

When from upstairs, there’s a loud crash, followed by the unmistakable sound of something tumbling, a brief moment of silence, and then Nicki yelling, “I’M OKAY!” in that way that means he is definitely not okay, but doesn’t want us to check.

Agatha doesn’t even flinch. She sighs like a woman preparing to surrender to fate, which, in a way, she is.

“And just like that,” she says, dramatically, “our peaceful moment dies a noisy death.”

I laugh and lean my head against her shoulder, breathing her in. “Enjoy the quiet while it lasts. In an hour’s time, we’ll probably be driving home with a one-eyed chinchilla or a guinea pig named… I don’t know. Little Wigglebutt.”

Agatha hums thoughtfully, her fingers tracing lazy, slow circles on my knee like she’s painting some ancient sigil there. “Little Wigglebutt would be a lovely name for a familiar.”

I groan, half-amused, half-resigned.

“That wasn’t meant to be encouragement… The kids just want a nice, normal pet. No familiars, no magic.”

She pulls a face like I just suggested we live without indoor plumbing.

“Define ‘normal,’” she says, already deeply unimpressed.

“You know. Something that doesn’t glow. Or talk. Or vanish into thin air."

Agatha scoffs. “So, a disappointment, then.”

“A hamster,” I say pointedly, “is not a disappointment. It is a small, manageable creature that fits in a cage."

“But if the hamster happens to be a little… special, who are we to stifle its potential?”

I squint at her. “Define special.”

She grins, blue eyes twinkling with mischief. “You’ll know it when you see it.”

And somehow, I know… I just know… we’re going to walk into that pet store and come out with something absolutely ridiculous.

***

The second we step into Westview’s "Pet Emporium", I immediately begin questioning every decision that’s led me to this moment.

Who knew it was so big in here? Endless aisles of glass tanks and cages, the smell of sawdust, hay, and something that was once alive and now very likely isn’t hangs in the air. As well as the unmistakable sound of a parrot somewhere in the distance yelling something that should definitely not be repeated by a bird.

Ella darts off to a cage near the wall, gasping with wonder. “Mommy look! A rat! He has whiskers!” Her voice is pure delight and zero hesitation.

Nicki veers in the opposite direction, heading straight for the Reptiles sign. I glance at Agatha, prepared to launch into a speech about boundaries, appropriate pet sizes, and definitely no tarantulas, but she’s not looking at them.

She’s looking at me.

And then she’s tugging gently on my hand, lacing her fingers through mine as she pulls me deeper into the store. Her grip warm, steady, and just a bit dangerous.

“You’re up to something,” I murmur.

“I’m always up to something,” she replies, smiling over her shoulder. “Try to keep up.”

We round the corner into a quieter aisle, away from the chatter of other customers and the vague croaking of something amphibious. And that’s when she stops...

In front of a glass enclosure, simple and unassuming, sits a small rabbit… white with soft brown and black spots dappling it's ears and back. He’s got this sleepy, self-important look about him, like he’s judging the world but doing it politely.

Agatha crouches slightly, her expression softening in that rare way it does when something genuinely surprises her.

“He’s got attitude,” she murmurs.

The rabbit looks up at her.

Then, like he knows exactly what he’s doing, he hops closer to the glass and sits, perfectly still, one back leg twitching ever so slightly.

She glances back at me, and I already know. She’s decided. Jesus, we’re getting a rabbit.

“Kids!” she calls, her voice echoing just enough to send them skidding around the corner in under ten seconds.

Ella gasps. “He’s so FLUFFY!”

Nicki drops into a squat, staring through the glass. “He looks like he knows kung fu.”

The rabbit thumps one leg and then pauses, as if catching himself mid-showoff. I swear, he makes eye contact with me. Like he knows.

“What should we name him?” Agatha says casually, too casually.

Ella bounces on the balls of her feet. “Cottonball?”

Nicki scrunches his nose. “No, that’s stupid, it needs to be something cooler.”

Agatha tilts her head thoughtfully, eyes still fixed on the rabbit. “What about… Señor Scratchy?”

The kids lose their minds.

“Yes!”

“Perfect!”

“He’s definitely a Señor!”

I blink. One second, we were browsing. Now we’re naming, celebrating… and practically drawing up a birth certificate.

I shake my head slowly, mouth open just enough to express the internal how the hell has this happened that’s currently blaring in my brain. This was supposed to be a “just looking” trip. A stall tactic. A test of responsibility.

And now?

I look down at the rabbit. He’s watching me through the glass. Not in that vague, uninterested pet-store way… oh no. He’s really looking at me. Like he knows. Like he saw straight through the sarcasm and resistance and picked me anyway.

His little nose twitches once. Then he sits taller.

I narrow my eyes at him. “We are not bonding.”

His whiskers twitch like sure we’re not.

The next thing I know, we’re outside. The sky’s gone soft and overcast, and I’m standing at the back of our car, loading in a ridiculous amount of hay, bedding, food pellets, chew toys, a rabbit-sized water dispenser, and something called a “burrow blankie.”

A freaking burrow blankie…

I sigh, rearranging the stack of items so the bag of treats doesn’t crush the box of pine shavings.

This is what my life has come too…

In the backseat, nestled in a pristine white carry box between Ella and Nicki, sits Señor Scratchy himself; regal, composed, and completely unbothered by the chaos around him, like he’s always known he would be chauffeured away from a pet store by a loving, if mildly bewildered magical family.

Ella is softly singing a made-up song, something about bunnies, stars and jellybeans, her voice gentle and oddly on pitch. Nicki, bless his heart, is reading his comic book aloud to the rabbit, as he explains plot points like “this guy’s a good guy, but he made some bad choices.”

And there sits Señor Scratchy, thumping once, not out of fear… just to let us know he’s listening.

Agatha slips into the passenger seat beside me, the door closing with a solid thunk. She lets out a content sigh, tossing her sunglasses onto the dashboard like this is just another perfectly executed scheme.

Which knowing her, it probably is.

Without a word, she rests her hand gently on my thigh… warm, smooth, and annoyingly smug in its casual claim. Her thumb strokes slow circles through the denim of my jeans, a silent told you so wrapped in touch.

I glance over at her. “You planned this.”

She smiles without looking at me, her blue eyes fixed on the road ahead.

“I nudged the universe.”

I snort. “You nudged it off a cliff.”

Her smirk deepens. “And it landed in a soft pile of hay with a bunny named Señor Scratchy. You’re welcome.”

I shake my head, turning the key in the ignition.

“You know,” I murmur, eyes on the road, “if that rabbit starts levitating or speaking Latin, you’re sleeping on the sofa.”

Agatha leans closer, lips brushing my ear. “If he starts speaking Latin, I’m training him to do your morning affirmations.”

I groan.

She laughs.

And Señor Scratchy thumps once, as if to say: Good luck, Harkness’. You’re mine now.

***

Later that night, the house is finally, quiet.

The kids are asleep, both of them spark out in their respective beds, sprawled in tangled piles of sheets and stuffed animals. Nicki zonked out mid-sentence while telling Señor Scratchy about the superhero rabbit team he was going to invent. Whilst, Ella had tried to sneak the rabbit into her bed and got as far as pulling a blanket halfway over the carrier before giving in to sleep, her tiny fingers still curled around the edge.

And Señor Scratchy?

He’s not just surviving. He’s thriving.

He’s made himself at home with an unsettling speed, like he’s lived here his whole rabbit life. His new indoor enclosure is set up in the basement…just for nighttime and quiet hours… complete with cozy bedding, food, a small plush carrot he's already flung with great force across the cage, and one spell I’m told is just to keep the temperature stable. I’m keeping an eye on that.

His outside hutch is on order. Agatha picked one that looked like a rustic French cottage and cost more than our first sofa.

And now, he’s curled contentedly in her lap like a tiny smug prince, his back leg twitching now and then, his eyes half-closed as she runs her fingers through the soft fur behind his ears.

Agatha is reclined across the couch, long legs stretched out, her bare feet resting on my lap. I absently rub my thumb across the top of her right one, slow, easy strokes. It’s quiet, but it’s us quiet.

“He’s smug,” I say, watching the rabbit twitch his nose with absolute self-assurance.

“No, actually, his judgy and I don’t trust him.”

“He’s perfect,” Agatha murmurs, eyes still on him. “He’s dignified.”

My hand slows on her foot. “You mean you used magic.”

She grins, all teeth and mischief, but there’s a softness underneath. “Nope. That one was all him.”

I tilt my head, studying her. “You’re telling me a regular, non-enchanted rabbit took one look at our family and thought, ‘Yes, this semi-responsible, unhinged bunch is exactly where I should be?’”

She shrugs, utterly unapologetic. “Maybe he’s a little unhinged too.”

I squeeze her foot affectionately, and she moves it off my lap, scooting closer with that deliberate slowness she knows drives me mad. With one hand, she gently lifts Señor Scratchy and sets him on the cushion beside her, like he’s some kind of tiny, furry chaperone.

Then she leans in and kisses me.

It’s soft at first. Familiar. Warm. But then her fingers curl into the hem of my shirt, and it deepens… her lips brushing mine just enough to send my pulse tripping over itself. God, she drives me crazy. But she’s my crazy.

I reach for her jumper, curling my fingers in the navy fabric, pulling her closer with a breathless little laugh… and that’s when we hear it.

Thump.

Agatha jerks back with a startled noise, somewhere between a yelp and a moan, as Señor Scratchy leaps back into her lap, thumping dramatically before settling into a loaf, looking very pleased with himself.

I blink, stare at the rabbit, then up at Agatha, then back to the smug little fluffball.

“Look, buddy,” I say, pointing at him like I’m negotiating with a very entitled roommate, “let’s get one thing straight…”

He stares at me.

Unblinking.

Judgy.

I lower my voice. “You may have claimed the kids, the blanket, and the best spot on the sofa, but when it comes to her?” I glance sideways at Agatha, who is biting back a laugh. “She was mine first...so you can back off with."

Señor Scratchy lifts one paw.

And thumps.

Once.

Agatha laughs, reaching for her glass of wine on the coffee table with a smirk.

“He accepts your terms.”

I narrow my eyes at the rabbit. “I’m watching you, Señor.”

He blinks slowly, utterly unimpressed.

Agatha leans her head on my shoulder, still laughing.

“You know he’s going to end up sleeping on our bed at some point, right?”

I groan. “This was supposed to be a normal pet.”

She kisses my neck, all honey and sin. “There’s nothing normal about us, love.”

And honestly?

I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Also on AO3 - Writtenwhiledreaming 💜 (Fourth chapter of No! You Can’t Hex A Four-Year-Old).

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the-daydreaming-show · 4 months ago

Text

(1.) Threads of Time.

SUMMARY: Ever since you arrived in the Night Court, you've avoided awkward confrontation and the thought of going out of your way to talk to Feyre. You've barely looked at her in an attempt to avoid facing the very thing you came here for. But finally, one evening, after a flight over the mountains with Balerion, you come face to face with the past and present you've been avoiding.

After not seeing each other for over a decade, you and Feyre finally meet in the woods again, but nothing is the same, not even the two of you. You make an agreement to try to find a balance, and you fail miserably.

NOTE: (All together, we are going to ignore that this should have been published yesterday.) The plan is for there to be an episode every Thursday, until it is finished. So stay tuned for that.

We are skipping many dinners and political discussion meetings because I did not like them and in the end what you need to know about them is explained by the reader in her monologue.

As always, English is not my first language so sorry for spelling mistakes and mistakes of the type, any comment on it is welcome if it is respectful. I am always trying to get comfortable and improve my writing in this language.

I hope you like it, let me know in the comments your opinions. XOXO Ella

Memories/Thoughts in italics

Dragon Language in bold italics

Previus Part: (0.) PREFACE

AO3 / Story Masterlist

“The past is never dead. It's not even past.” — William Faulkner.

The night in Velaris was as beautiful as it had been said to be during the endless negotiations with the Night Court's emissary, Morrigan, and in the secret meetings of your council regarding this visit.

The balcony you had ended up on after insomnia woke you before the sun came up was the size of a ballroom, and you suspected that was what it was used for due to the beautiful marble that decorated the floor. It had a view of the entire city, spreading below you in all directions.

Since you had arrived three days ago, it was the first time you could stop and admire the view that the House of Wind offered you of the city over which it loomed. Between uncomfortable meals, less-than-secret conversations, and discussions about the court's functioning, you had not had time. And you thought it had been for the best.

Upon your arrival at the house, you had been greeted by the High Lady and High Lord, with their court, as well as Morrigan, who, as the one in charge of the negotiations, was in charge of the introductions. Feyre had been perfect—the perfect image of a ruler that is everything. But you had not seen her outside official meals and meetings. Your people, and you suspected that she stayed at the private residence by the river. It made sense, given the matter of the child. In the house with your court, there was Nesta with her husband, General Cassian, who owned the residence and had opened his home to you.

It did not escape your notice that the highest point in the city was ideal for you, because it did not allow you to move around too much without being noticed. It kept your dragons as far away from the city and its inhabitants as possible.

You'd seen more of Nesta than Feyre or her husband, Rhysand, which didn't bother you as much as Armin said it did; he must have given her the disrespect he claimed she represented in matters of politics. But Night Court politics were more lax than the mortal ones they were used to, so you told him to relax. Well, to do what Armin considered relaxing. You weren't going to ask for a miracle, either.

You found it amusing to see how the proud and seemingly shallow Nesta Archeron was married to and in love with a man like General Cassian. They were so opposite in the eyes of the world that it was fun to watch them interact. It even made you feel tender. Nesta had caught you staring a couple of times, and she had already told you several times to shut up, even when you hadn't said anything.

You had seen Elain the day you landed too; she had been fascinated by Dreamfyre, one of the dragons that had come to the Night Court with you, along with Caraxes and Balerion, your own mount.

You hadn’t looked at Feyre much. Or at least, you hadn’t looked at her normally—not thinking much about how the interactions would be normal. You didn’t want to make her uncomfortable either, and you knew there were things you couldn’t control if you looked at her. Like the way it made you gasp at how she seemed to glow in her place in the world. She looked so comfortable and right where she was, and it led you to believe that you no longer had a place in her life, which led you to believe that was selfish.

And her husband could reportedly read minds, so you'd rather not think about her, out of respect for him. You didn't look at him much at first either, but it seemed like you'd be spending some quality time with him during meetings he wasn’t going to.

The sun began to peek over the mountains as you finished your thoughts, and the lights in the city slowly faded as the city took in the morning light. You decided you needed to get out and quickly returned to your room in the house so you could change into your riding gear.

As you changed in your room, Balerion woke up in his sleeping spot in the mountains, which he had taken as his own for the first few days of your visit. You could feel the way he moved, the way his muscles stretched, and the way the earth shifted beneath his claws. Finally, the feeling of both of your bodies coordinating through the bond, until your breathing and the dragon's were coordinated as if they were one, washed over you. Filling you with a calm that nothing else in this life had ever given you. Your breath felt hot as you pulled the harnesses over your head to adjust them at your waist and hips, then hooked those to the harnesses on your thighs.

Balerion took flight in the mountains as you walked around the house to the highest point you could reach on foot and began to climb without any problem to the house's highest point. Balerion circled the house twice before he was close enough for you to jump into the void and land on his back, something you had done many times. You got hooked on the mix and took Balerion to fly over the city and then the sea for a good while. You enjoyed the feeling of flying together and allowing yourself to leave all worries on the ground for a while.

You wanted to fly back to the house for breakfast, but Balerion was feeling like heading out into the woods and mountains, so you let him wander around the outskirts of Velaris with you on his back as well.

“Haven’t you played enough these days?” you asked the beast beneath you as he circled the sky in slow loops, indicating that he wanted you down there. He had probably smelled some prey in the mountains and couldn’t wait to drop you off at the House of Wind. A growl, the equivalent of an eye-roll to humans, sounded through the bond. “If I asked so nicely,” you scoffed, letting go of the reins of your mount and unhooking your harness from your saddle. You leaped off and landed in the woods surrounding the city, swooping down to the meadows that surrounded it. It was the first time Balerion—or any of your dragons—had seen mountains and forests of that immensity.

The three eldest, Vhagar, Balerion, and Meraxes, had been born in the lava of the volcanic islands. While these had a jungle surrounding the massive, steamy mountains, it was nowhere near a sight like Prythian and the Night Court. The rest of your dragons had already hatched by the time you reached the bay, so they knew only the burning desert and colorful cities. Dreamfyre, the youngest of the dragons you brought, was fascinated by the flowers and meadows surrounding the city. Balerion was obsessed with the mountains and the fighters he could take there. And Caraxes, the middle one, had a fascination with flying over the sea and perching on the rocky outcrops of the hillsides a few miles from the city. He wouldn’t go into the sea, but he fought the waves that rushed toward him when the tide came in.

Balerion's roar as he charged forward and the ground shaking at his energetic landing further up the mountain only made you laugh as you descended the mountain and admired the surrounding forest. You made it down a couple of meters when you heard a pair of footsteps in the forest and stopped dead in your tracks.

You had known these footsteps for years.

You walked through the forest, following the small, noisy footsteps. They were where you had been told they would be, and you approached, making noise so she would notice you, but you soon realized that the girl's awareness was not yet trained enough. You should have made more noise, but now it didn't matter. You would scare her one way or another because, standing a few meters behind her, young Feyre hadn't noticed you were there.

Something twisted deep inside you. If you were a man, and you had bad intentions, she wouldn't have noticed until it was too late. The hunters in the area were mostly good husbands and sons, good hunting partners to go out with from time to time, too.

But you can never know someone well enough, especially a man.

You saw a branch on the snowy ground and stepped on it, making a noise that would cause the girl to notice, with the file raised. At least she had good reflexes, you thought.

“Hey,” you greeted her with a smile, the same one you used to give Rue when you wanted to encourage her to do something new. “You are being too loud. You aren't going to find anything being so noisy.”

You approached the area where the footsteps were sounding, and with the silence that had characterized years of habit, you silently came to stand behind the footsteps that advanced with a predatory rhythm on the ground. They stopped dead a few seconds before she entered your vision.

The image was strangely familiar.

There stood Feyre, bow in hand and arrow on the string. She was watching a fully grown deer eating the grass a few feet away, visible between the trees. But she wasn't ready for the shot. You didn't understand why she wouldn't get a better angle to kill such a large animal. Her feet weren’t positioned for the shot or the possible chase. The string wasn’t stretched, nor was the bow raised to aim. If she moved too much now, she could make noise on the ground, and she’d miss the shot.

She wasn’t really looking to hunt that animal, you realized.

You could have turned around and left the place as quietly as you came. Feyre wouldn’t notice, as she hadn’t noticed you were so close, letting the opportunity slip away and going back to ignoring the moment until there was no other option. But you were here just for this, so you let habit take over.

“Are you planning on waiting for the deer to walk to the arrow on its own, Fey?” you asked, loud enough to send the deer running.

If she wasn’t ready to shoot when you found her, she was now. Feyre had turned fully and nearly fired her arrow at the sound of your voice, but you didn’t even blink and just let your gazes meet. With the hearing of a High Fae, Feyre must have grown unaccustomed to being surprised.

“Fey,” you called, and the rabbits that were just a few feet away from Feyre ran away in terror at the noise, returning to their hidden cave underground and easily avoiding the fired arrow.

“Stop scaring me,” the aforementioned begged irritably, her youthful and elegant voice echoing through the woods, probably scaring any other animals that might have been in the area.

“Stop being so mean and thinking so much, Fey,” you recommended with a mocking smile. “It’s not a good combination for a hunter.”

“So she can be loud or dubious? But not at the same time?” she asked, mocking your logic.

“You have a bow and arrow; if you want to hunt loudly, you simply train your hands and eyes to be able to reach greater distances,” you explained softly as you crouched down beside her and pulled a wild blackberry from your pocket. Feyre leaned in but gently moved her chin out of your reach. “And if you want to hesitate, you can let nature decide for you.”

You left the innocent-looking blackberries a few feet away from you, and both of you went off to continue your hunt. That day, when you walked down the road back to the house, a rabbit lay dead with blackberries in its mouth, with no physical wounds to be seen. Nature had decided.

“Good to know you still know how to draw a bow. For a second there, I thought you didn’t remember how I saw you there.” You turned to look at her, approaching her, not offended by the arrow pointed at your face.

You stood a meter away from her and looked into her eyes as she slowly lowered her bow, coming out of the fight instinct. You heard her subtly sniffing the air for any trace of a non-human scent on you, the same way Morrigan had when you had done the same to her once when she visited the bay as an emissary during negotiations. But like Morrigan, Feyre wouldn’t find anything amiss, and you wished you had an explanation to give her, but you barely knew more than she did about what you were these days.

“You ruined my dinner,” Feyre said matter-of-factly, to which you smiled knowingly and simply crouched down, grabbing a rock from the ground. You heard Feyre shift her feet out of habit.

It was like the world had suddenly lost all sense of time, as the present bled into your past. When you threw the rock at the tree, causing a group of hidden birds to fly away, and Feyre killed two of them with a single arrow, it felt like nothing had changed. Even though neither of you was even the same species you were when you used that trick.

A silence formed between the two of you and the forest, with only the abrupt sound of birds falling to the ground echoing around the area before silence returned. She wasn’t sure if she was expecting you to leave or if she just didn’t know what to say about the sense of time running out around the two of you. It was all the forest’s fault.

“I’m sorry about Rue,” was the first thing she said to you directly after all these years.

The forest moved naturally as you and Feyre each held Rue’s hand while venturing out on the little girl’s first expedition. At ten years old, Rue was two years younger than Feyre, and she seemed excited to teach someone else as you had done with her. The fact that she was teaching your little sister felt like a full circle for her—a way of repaying you for your teachings.

Watching her crouch beside a trail in the dirt, diligently explaining how to follow it and how much time had passed since the animal had gone by, you realized that you could never tell her the truth about your teachings.

“Look, Rue,” Feyre whispered lovingly as she pointed to where the trail ended, at the door of a cave where the rabbits lived. “We need to set the traps here, near the cave. Not too close so that they leave and create a new entrance, but in the area where they’ll take a path in search of food. Look over here.”

Feyre led Rue, who was watching her intently, by the hand through the area. You didn't interrupt her lesson.

When you learned that Nesta and Elain were alive, despite everything they had been through, you found envy in your heart.

Rue had been safe, barely managing to buy her freedom from the brothel where she had been sold, without ever having someone lay a hand on her, thanks to your uncomplaining work. Nesta and Elain had been in the middle of a war, turned into beings they didn’t understand, fighting with their own identity and caught in the crosshairs of many enemies.

The odds had been on Rue’s side, not Nesta’s or Elain’s. You should have felt something about the fact that the sisters had survived against those odds, while she had died in a situation that hadn’t even been targeted.

But you quickly realized, with sadness, that you were only relieved the Archeron sisters had beaten the odds—all three of them together and against all logic. The absence of your sister weighed on your heart like a stone sewn into it, tugging at the stitches, opening unexpectedly at the thought of something she would have liked or moments she would have enjoyed seeing.

Never fully healed, but never truly as raw as the moment she bled out in your arms. You wanted to say something, but a lump formed in your throat, and you realized you didn’t really have anything to say to that. All you could manage was to acknowledge that it was what it was—and you meant it deeply, too.

That always drew looks from people you didn’t like, and you didn’t want to, nor could you, allow Feyre to see you that way now.

“I hope you’ve learned to cook with seasonings over the years, Fey,” you said, moving a little closer to her and pointing at the dead birds a few meters away. “Because wild geese require skill so they don’t turn out dry on the grill.”

Feyre grimaced as she looked at the fallen animals. She quickly concluded that, first, she didn’t need the meat since she didn’t hunt for food anymore—she just went out shopping—and second, she lacked the skills to cook them even if she wanted to, judging by the face she made while staring at the dead birds.

There was a time when such a hunt would have been a relief, providing a week’s worth of food for both families. The weight of the present lingered between you both more than you’d like.

“What are you doing out here so early?” Feyre finally asked, trying to spark a conversation and shake off the awkwardness. You realized the one stuck in the past was you, not her, so of course she wanted to escape the memories that were creeping into the moment. “I thought you’d be sleeping in, given the late meetings your court had.”

As you walked downhill asymptotically, pacing yourself to avoid getting too close, you thought about what she might have said if you did approach: We know what you are doing; We are in the house, and we are watching you.

But you and your council had anticipated that. There were magical barriers you couldn’t defend against. Still, you knew what not to say, simply assuming that the shadowsinger would pass his information along to his superiors one way or another. Communication, in your humble opinion, was much easier that way.

“I’ve found sleep less necessary than usual these days,” you commented as you passed her. “And if I didn’t take Balerion out for a ride, he’d start getting fussy and end up landing on the house just to annoy me. It’s a very nice building, and I fear Nesta would poison me for dinner if even one brick of her house moved because of my dragon.”

You heard Feyre moving through the forest, but you resisted the urge to turn around and look. You allowed yourself to walk slowly, telling yourself to watch for uneven ground. Feyre joined you silently, the birds tied around her neck, with her quiver of arrows resting on her back.

“Personally, I like to keep my quiver on my hip,” you pointed out as you adjusted yours in its place, hanging below the bone on your left side. “It’s easier to draw several arrows at once that way. With my eye, it’s sometimes necessary before I get a prey to fall.”

Feyre nodded, looking at the left pupil that dripped down onto your iris. She had noticed the way you turned your head to the left over the days, so she had gotten used to walking on that side every day.

“Balerion?” Feyre’s question set off a roar that echoed into the distance. She looked in the exact direction of where your beast was in the mountains, and with her hearing so precise, she would surely create a beeline to it if she wanted to.

“He’s a bit of a diva,” you explained as you began to walk down the mountain.

In the pace of the walk, you naturally ended up half a step ahead of Feyre, with her to your left—the same formation you used when walking in the woods to hunt. Your right eye was not only a genetic anomaly, but it was also a cause of vision loss on that side. You had never known how that drop had gotten there. Your mother had once told you that you were born with it. Your father had once coldly told you that it had come to you by accident.

Now both of your eyes could see perfectly—both of them. The fire and the lava had healed them the same way they had healed any scars or pains on your body. But you didn't say anything about it.

At the foot of the mountain, at the edge of town, was a clearing of green grasses and small white mountain flowers growing in random places. You and Feyre walked in silence; you wished you had something to say, but anything felt wrong. When you stopped, you waited for her to keep walking, assuming she didn't want to either; she had nothing to say.

As you began to walk across the grass and passed the first patch of flowers in your path, Balerion flew over the area, casting a shadow that made it seem like night had covered the hillside. Feyre looked up to see him pass. Your feet settled on the ground, ready for the tremor that came as the dragon landed dangerously close to your position, but Feyre stumbled enough that she had to instinctively grab onto your arm.

When the earth stopped shaking and Balerion settled back on the ground, Feyre was still clinging to your arm. You could understand why. You were the odd one out in this situation, smiling at the beast in front of you like it was a puppy barking at your arrival at the house because it brought a new friend.

“Relax, Balerion,” you demanded, using the language of dragons, making sure he understood and heard what you were saying, still not approaching the part of the dragon that was raised in front of you. “You are like a child!!”

The dragon's breath washed over both of you, and you pulled Feyre's arm so she was behind you. The color radiating from Balerion's breath was always bright; sometimes it could burn the grass he breathed on when he took naps, and sometimes it was like a summer breeze.

You never knew what would happen, and you didn't know how Feyre would react to the worst options. You knew it wouldn't affect you, so the instinct to protect led you to act before thinking. You immediately felt uncomfortable with your actions. You were out of place, you shouldn't have done that, you thought to yourself.

You let go of her hand and walked toward the dragon's snout; his jaw was higher than yours, but Balerion lowered his head so you could caress his nose. You took a deep breath, resting your forehead against the tip of his nose, and he imitated you naturally.

The way Balerion moved under your hands and the sound of their coordinated breathing left you baffled by the world for a few seconds. You didn't notice when Feyre relaxed into place and sighed heavily.

“I don’t know what to say,” Feyre confessed from behind you. You lifted your head from where your forehead was resting against Balerion, but you didn’t look at her. “It feels like I don’t know you, but I know I do, and I want to know everything about why—I don’t know how to ask without feeling like I’m invading someone’s life and that I have no right to want to know when you were alone.”

Silence.

“We both live what we have to live, Fey,” you said, caressing the scales on the dragon’s nose, looking at the shape your sunlit hand made against Balerion’s blackness, which seemed to absorb the surrounding light. “You have to believe that we are both where we should be now, and that will not change.”

Silence.

“The past doesn’t change either,” Feyre said, whispering your name at the end, the same way she used to call you when you were both young.

She was right; they both are who they are now, but they had also once been what they had been, neither canceling out the other despite the feeling that filled you these days. Sometimes you wished one would undo the other, that the past would be enough to win over the present. Or that the present would wipe out the past. But it didn’t work that way. Maybe, just maybe, you might be able to accept the mix, to lose nothing and have everything.

Could you do it?

Yes, you could try.

“He wants to know who you are.” It wasn’t a lie; Balerion really was like a puppy wanting to meet a new friend; he probably sensed through you what Feyre meant. But you were desperately changing the subject with them.

“Looks like he wants to eat me or you.” Feyre stared blankly at Balerion from her spot, bowing over the man, dead birds still in her hand.

“He always looks like that; he just has a problem with not knowing when to stop eating.” The joke caused an irritated growl from the dragon, who blew to ruffle your hair and playfully tease you. “It’s the truth.”

Balerion sat his butt down on the grass with a slam, agreeing to change position so that his new friend could get closer, thus making his form smaller in front of both of them. This was an attempt to make himself less intimidating, you assumed.

“Would you like to introduce yourself?” you asked Feyre, and she saw that for what it was: an attempt to not want to ignore the past or the present, an attempt to find a balance between the two without what they were and what they are or will be preventing them from knowing who the other is now. And she nodded slightly.

You motioned for him to put down the birds, bows, and arrows on the ground. He walked calmly and steadily up to where you were standing in front of Balerion's enormous head. Balerion moved closer in excitement, and you pushed him back into position immediately by pulling on one of the tusks protruding from between his fangs, while Fey waited for you to signal him to come closer.

“Give me your hand,” you asked when she was at your side. Feyre gave you her right hand. You placed her hand on the scales and let it sit there for a moment, letting the tension of the moment pass. When you felt her body realize there was no danger and her fingers moved only over the scales, you let go of her hand and allowed her to pet the dragon herself. “See, he’s a very big pup.”

“A fire-breathing one,” Feyre joked back, Balerion snuggling under her hand like a kitten, causing you to roll your eyes at his attitude. He’s not all that gentle and obedient when it comes to dealing with younger dragons. “He’s quite beautiful for such a dangerous animal,” Feyre commented as she stroked the scales with both hands and felt the heat of the fire running beneath Balerion’s scales. You smiled at the sight.

“You should see it at night, in the moonlight. When he flies through the sky, it looks like he has stars and can camouflage himself perfectly. He disappears from view if you are underneath him,” you explained, proud of Balerion and how he had grown from a rock in the volcanoes to the enormous beast he was now.

A glint on Feyre's hands caught your attention. Her wedding ring, a jewel that sparkled in the sun, reflected in your eyes as if it wanted to purposely annoy you more than its meaning could.

“It must be quite a sight,” Feyre commented, and your frown changed before she saw your face as she turned to ask you more questions about Balerion.

To your chagrin, you quickly realized that the plan for acceptance and balance you had outlined with Feyre that day was far too ambitious for your circumstances.

It all started the next morning. It was time to visit the Illyrian Mountains. Armin, as your general, and Luka, your secretary and master spy, refused to let you go alone, despite your insistence. It wouldn't make any difference if they tried to kill you, whether they were there or not, but you still gave in, in the end, for their peace of mind. Rhysand, Morrigan, and Azriel were your guides on that occasion.

You figured Cassian was staying in town because the dragons were supposed to be staying there, too. Though that must have meant Feyre’s court believed the Illyrians would be able to handle several dragons at once if need be, which you found amusing, both because it sounded like something Cassian would do and because it also meant they hadn’t decided yet how much control you had over the beasts.

It was even funnier when the three of them appeared flying over the camp hours after you arrived, where you had to explain that it was difficult to tell them to stay far away from you. Dragons are protective beasts, and you were their mother, after all.

Cassian joined you not long after. He was the punchline in your statuses, and Armin had to hit you to stop you from laughing.

Spending time with Rhysand was torture. You wanted to hate the bastard.

Would that be the most logical thing to do, right?

You wanted Feyre, and he had her; hate should have been the healthiest way out of everything. But you didn't. You severely suspected he was perfect. Not because he didn't have flaws. No, you'd heard plenty of those flaws from Luka. But you also knew what he'd done, which was more than you should know.

When Luka, with his tattooed face, ink-blackened hands, and raspy voice, had offered the most drastic way out for information, you had refused his sacrifice. But ultimately, you knew there was information about the High Fae that no information network you could muster would get from them without them noticing. You needed the tactical information if you were going to move forward with negotiations and visits for a potential deal, and you desperately wanted to follow through.

So you ended up giving in, knowing that it was the only way to overcome the Shadow Singer, or at least level the playing field as much as possible in your favor.

You had offered to make the sacrifice, but he had refused, as there was no telling what your blood might do to the process, and so now Luka had no ring finger on his left hand. “I don’t plan on listening to wedding tales for myself. So I can’t do anything but grip my daggers, and I can use my other hand for that until I get used to it,” Luka had told you.

The ritual gave you the information you knew you needed, even if you didn't know you needed it or that you needed it at some point. For more precise information, more sacrifice was needed, and you wouldn't let your friend sacrifice a full hand for you, even though he had been more than willing until you sternly ordered him not to.

The information you had been given was indeed what you required. Your council needed to know how trustworthy the Night Court was and what they might find there if they went. That they had received, and perhaps all too effectively.

Rhysand played the annoying idiot role well enough, but you had the information to see through him in a way you hadn't expected to be able to. You weren't sure if it was his love for his people or his loyalty to Feyre, but you couldn't find it in yourself to hate him. You respected him in a way that wasn't just out of fear, but because he seemed to be where many (including you) would want him to be and not waste the chance (like others).

And it only made everything more difficult because the trip to the mountains confirmed the information about the Illyrian armies you had thanks to Luka's missing finger. You returned to the House of Wind on Balerion to ensure that you got the dragons out of the mountains as quickly as possible, as the few days you were there caused nervousness among the locals. You definitely wouldn't be going on vacation to the mountains at the invitation of anyone from the area anytime soon.

“And?” Mayhem, your lady-in-waiting and bodyguard, asked. You glanced at her through the mirror, and it answered the question sufficiently. You silently wondered if Azriel and his shadows had already realized that they weren’t communicating, as if they already knew what they should know and what they shouldn’t.

You still didn't understand how you would manage the balance if the path remained as marked as it had been since before you left the Bay. The next stop would be the Court of Nightmares, so you could see the other part of the court's military forces.

You found yourself standing on the same balcony, looking up at the darkening sky the night after your arrival from the mountains.

“Hello,” Feyre greeted, appearing in the doorway. The two courts were supposed to be dining together that night—some sort of political dinner, you supposed. You waved back, leaning over the balcony railing, looking down. She leaned against you, and you shifted in place to put some distance between you, even if it was just a few inches. “How were the mountains?”

“Very windy,” you commented, sighing heavily, “and it seems the locals didn’t like me very much. I’m still not sure if it was my lack of a penis or my extra dragons. A mystery indeed.” You scoffed, and Feyre laughed in response.

“Devlon is a delight to be around, no doubt about it,” Feyre explained as she turned to sit on the edge and looked at you for a moment in silence, as she often did when she wanted to tell you to stop thinking. “I hope you still enjoyed the beauty of the mountains.”

“I did,” you admitted, glancing at her briefly and pointing at Balerion in the distance with a smile. “And Balerion seems to want to take up residence in those sacred mountains of yours. He says it has good hunting, which is a guarantee of moving by their standards, but I don’t think he’d be very welcome.”

“I don’t think they could do much about that, could they?” Feyre seemed amused at the idea of the massive dragon you called a pup taking up residence in Ramiel and no one being able to stop it, the same way she imagined you taking the bay. Her imagination wasn’t close to the truth, but they didn’t know, nor would they be told anytime soon.

“The wedding,” you pointed at her ring, shining in the sunset, looking at it instead of her face, afraid something would betray you. “And the birth.”

“Thank you,” Feyre whispered sincerely and looked at the ring on her finger fondly, as if remembering her happiness and being happy about it. You moved your gaze to the horizon again.

“I hope he was and is chubby.” You wished for him, remembering the words that adults in your town exchanged when a baby was born alive in one of the families. The memory made Feyre smile honestly.

“Yeah, I guess that’s consistent,” Feyre whispered, and you nearly rolled your eyes as the scent of expensive cologne hit your nose before you looked at the man in question.

“Your husband has nosy tendencies,” you blurted out before you could control yourself, crossing your arms. Feyre let out a laugh at the lack of malice in your voice.

“A little,” she admitted, looking over at where Rhysand stood, his expression feigned offense.

“And I wanted to tell him that the food is ready, but I ended up being insulted,” he complained, approaching Feyre. And before he could reach her, you were already on your way to the door. “I thought we were all friends.”

Rhysand stood in his way as if expecting you to confront him and share a mocking fight, but you simply muttered and continued on your way, not even looking at him, running away from the situation as if you weren’t even aware of the fire.

“Something like that.”

The balance slipped from your grasp as if you were trying to hold onto seawater in a storm, and it cruelly hit your face during your visit to the Court of Nightmares. You sat in an elegant chair in front of an elegant table, with your boots on the polished marble floor, so polished it was like a mirror. A high-faced fae stared at you in disgust from her spot directly in front of you. You didn’t know if it was your presence or your casual attire (your usual riding clothes) that bothered her. You suspected it was a mix of both.

Rhysand asked for updates on the court and didn’t explain who you were or what you were doing there. He just allowed you to sit and listen. The fae whose name was Keir was the ruler of this side of the court on behalf of Rhysand and Feyre. Keir answered Rhysand’s demands, not taking his eyes off the way your boot was thrown over the edge of the table and into his line of vision because of the way you had crossed your legs. You had only made sure he had that angle of vision, much to his irritation.

Azriel was leaning against a wall not far from where Rhysand was sitting, and he seemed as entertained by Keir's irritation as you were, though it was less subtle.

For some reason, you felt the comment coming. Ever since you’d taken over the bay, it always got through to some people, and you’d learned to feel almost like you were an oracle when the need to point fingers got the better of people. You picked up the wine glass on the table, and the single sip you took while Keir was talking about what you knew about court caused him to grimace in disgust.

“Is our finest wine of the season not enough for our mortal guests?” Keir asked, his tone making it clear where he had changed the word he wanted to use to one that wouldn’t get him into trouble. But he spat out the word "mortal" with such abruptness that it felt just as insulting in some way. Now that was a skill, you thought with amusement.

“Is this the best there is here?” you asked, genuinely concerned about the quality of the spirits here. “I guess you can’t expect much from a vintage made in stone and darkness.”

“The whiskey is more passable,” Rhysand commented in amusement. You let out a murmur and looked at him skeptically.

“We have better wines in the Bay, and it’s a desert!” you pointed out indignantly.

The floor is a mirror; the wine should be just as luxurious; it was a huge contradiction in your opinion. You wondered when else that place was just part of a facade for the rotten and bitter beneath.

“That is true,” Keir said again, looking and speaking with undisguised disgust now. You looked at him in response. “The Aspiring Whore of the Slaves sits with the Night Court this moon.”

You smiled. There it was, the comment.

“Well, I’m retired as a courtesan. And I use the term 'courtesan' because if I had been just a prostitute, I would have been cheaper,” you commented. You settled back against the back of the chair to move your boot in front of him again, annoyed as much as you could.

“You’d think a courtesan would be better educated,” Keir spat.

“You wouldn’t know, with the quality of wine you drink. You couldn’t pay me dead,” you explained simply. It was true that, at your peak in the market, you had been one of the highest-paid in the Pirate Islands. It wasn’t something you were bragging about; it was a fact. You knew what you had been and what you were. That idiot couldn’t use it against you. You had learned that long ago. “And in my view, I have tasted fine wines in the Night Court, mostly in the restaurants of Velaris. I assume you haven’t had that opportunity, given their low standards.”

A bitter but malicious smile formed on Keir’s face, and there you knew. The idiot.

“I haven’t had the honor yet, but soon, I hope.” The arrogant idiot. If only he’d kept quiet. Or maybe you could have, but you needed the information.

You dined with your court privately that night. Nesta and Cassian were gone, but you wouldn’t let a word slip out of place because you knew that didn’t mean you weren’t being heard.

“Was the visit as we expected?” Luka asked casually as he figured out how to hold the fork with his missing finger, trying out positions and attempting to poke his potatoes, slowly figuring out how to best use it.

“Yes,” you said in a tone that ended the conversation before it even began. You downed your entire glass of wine (the same one you bragged about that afternoon in the Court of Nightmares) in one go. You quickly wiped the little that escaped your lips with the napkin on the table.

Everyone at the table knew what it meant. There would be no alliance because the Night Court had not yet recovered from the Hybern War.

Luka's sacrifice had not only shown the truth of Rhysand and his Inner Circle's character; it had also laid bare the results of the wars and circumstances that had wronged the Night Court.

With Amarantha ruling for sixty years, leaving Rhysand trapped without the ability to control his queen, the Illyrians had grown too accustomed to freedom, not only resisting the High Lord's ancient rules but the laws as well. They had gone to war through gritted teeth, but more for the chance at glory, and had been slaughtered in the thousands at a time. Many believed Rhysand had driven many to their deaths, knowing they had no chance, and though death in war was noble in the culture, the grudge of those who hadn't died still smoldered. To top it off, Nesta and her Valkyries had been spit in their faces, for they surely hadn't expected her to survive as she did.

To add Keir's forces to his troops, a deal had been made, one that the appointee himself had confirmed had not yet been paid.

The rest of the war with Hybern wasn't enough to get you back into battle, something you needed them to do if you signed that treaty. It was sooner rather than later because you had fired the first arrow when you declare yourself queen of all mortal lands. The queens of the continent were quick to respond with their own declaration or action, which wouldn't be long in coming, and it was only uphill from there.

She would be flying with Balerion into battle before the year was out, something he had seen coming. And the Night Court could not offer you the troops you required even if they now intended to help you, and you could not walk into battle with one of the Inner Circle as your weapon. They would tear apart any mortal army that crossed them, and you were not going to rule over ashes other than those of your own making.

What security would it give to the people who would be your subjects, who feared invasion because of the lack of a wall, if you won their lands with the direct help of those they saw as enemies?

There would be no balance, no matter how much you held on or wanted to put on or take off the scale. The reason you were there was nonexistent, and that left anything else you built on top of it in the dust.

You knew that. But you had still come. You had come anyway, knowing the possibilities, and you knew it would break your heart one way or another. It was a reality now, and it didn't feel any better even though you saw it coming.

Next Part: (2.) EMBRACING ILLUSIONS

TAG LIST: @pinksmellslikelove @saltedcoffeescotch @raisam @asweetblueberry2 @kabekusa @throneofsapphics @makayla2036789 @jojodojo02

#acotar x reader #acotar fanfiction #feyre archeron x reader #rhysand x reader #feysand x reader #poly!feysand x reader #feyre archeron #rhysand #acotar fic #feysand #friends to lovers #strangers to lovers #second chance love #fated mates #mates #dragons

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intheorangebedroom · 1 month ago

Note

UMMM YES I'M INTERESTED IN HOW THEY'RE DOING???

Oops sorry for yelling

My love, you can and should yell at me for taking so long to answer you 🫣 I don’t know how you bear with me. But I’m not complaining that you do 🧡

The question was, how are PTMY’s Frankie and Gabrielle doing. First, can you believe it’s been 10 years, sort of, since PTMY takes place in 2015? And today is Frankie’s 50th birthday 🥳🥳🥳 So not a bad day to answer you, after all!

I’m afraid the following will only reveal the extent and depth of my delulu where these two are concerned.

A lot happened in those ten years, and also not much. Time passed and they all went about their lives.

Yovanna went back to school to finish what she had started back home before moving to the US with Santi, and became a legal adviser. On the day she graduated, Santi proposed. Classic Pope. Their wedding was a lovely day, just like them, casual and warm and love everywhere. A couple of years later, they had a son, Joachin. Sweet and sensible, the spitting image of his father. The kid is obsessed with music. He'll be a great musician one day, you can mark my word.

Will, too, got married. Remember Clare, his neighbor? Now this was what you might call a big wedding, and also the first time Gabrielle saw Benny after the “late night” incident. Awkward. Maybe even more so because Benny brought two plus ones? Anyway, he didn’t leave the party with any of them, because he ran into Clare’s cousin, Nicola, and the two have been “casually dating” ever since (they’re stupid in love). Nicola even managed to have Benny quit the fighting (to everyone’s relief). He trains kids, now. Often, Frankie will pick up a six-pack and stop by the gym where he works and they'll hang out past closing time, just like they used to, you know, before.

Will and Clare had twin daughters, Ella and Carmel. Ben and Gabrielle are Ella’s godparents. Being an atheist, Gabrielle tried to protest, but Will assured her it was mostly a way of making her an official family member (there was a lot of crying, it was a joyful snotty mess). Those kids are... well, I hate to say spoiled when talking about kids because I don't believe you can love a kid too much. But those two peanuts are SPOILED ROTTEN. Good for them.

As for Izzy, she’s still single. It’s fine. She doesn’t travel as much as she used to. It's fine, too. She’s still a freelancer, but she’s made enough money that she can be picky with what job she takes on. Five years ago, she bought an apartment in Buenos Aires and she spends the (New York) winter months over there. Frankie had gotten used to having his sister nearby, and he misses her a lot. And yet, she still hasn’t managed to convince him to come down and visit. But Gabrielle is working on it.

Rosie went back to med school and successfully graduated. Now she works (her ass off, she doesn’t know how to do it any different) for a non-profit that provides medical and legal assistance to undocumented women. She finally hired someone to come once a week to clean and tidy up the house. Oh, and she’s currently having a torrid affair with the very hot (younger) guy who cleaned her gutters last fall, no pun intended, don’t tell anyone.

I’m very happy to report that Dolores is doing a-okay. She still runs her vintage store in St Mark's, which is a little miracle, given how the rent has increased, and she’s dating a very handsome and wealthy gentlemen. The poor man is completely wrapped around her little finger. She sure knows what she’s doing. She’ll be alright. I love her.

Sadly, though, Suzanne lost her partner to breast cancer. She stepped down from the book store, and Gabrielle now pretty much runs it on her own. She made a few changes through the years, and the book store is now specialized in children’s literature and graphic novels. She developed regular events (like drag queens reading kids' books centered on difference every second Saturday of the month) and the store acquired a great reputation. She’s been able to hire another employee, and she no longer works on Saturdays (a French girl's ultimate goal, not working on weekends).

She still meets with Rosie every Tuesday evening, rain or shine.

Frankie found a good position as a flight instructor, something much closer to their home, so he doesn’t have to spend half his day in his truck on a never-ending commute. He’s got a good schedule, a good insurance, and most importantly, his coworkers' respect.

They are disgustingly happy, with their soft love and their rough sex and their many minute rituals. Gabrielle makes coffee in the morning, while Frankie packs her lunch. Every night before bed, he braids her hair. On Saturdays, they watch SNL. Sunday mornings are for pancakes, Sunday nights are for movies. Every summer, they travel to Europe for a week, and once a month, they drive to upstate New York, where they spend the weekend in a little cabin they bought there with Izzy.

And they have a secret. They eloped. It started as a joke, but Frankie kept talking about it, preferably in moments when he knew she couldn’t counter, like during sex. The idea kept growing inside his head, another way to protect her, another way to keep her safe. She tried resisting, she put up a good fight, but in the end, she relented. Not like she can refuse him anything...

They didn’t tell anyone. Just ran off and did it. Afterward, Frankie told his sister and Gabrielle told Rosie (both were pissed but not surprised). No one else knows about it. Will suspects something, of course, but he’s letting them have this one. For now.

They don’t have rings. Gabrielle still goes by Tourneur. But she wears a little gold locket with a lock of Frankie’s curls clasped inside it. The chain is sealed around her neck.

Sometimes, when they’re alone at home, he stops whatever it is he's doing and comes to stand in front of her. Draws her flush into the solid wall of his chest. His arms wrapped around her, he lowers his lips to the shell of her ear, and in his low husk, he says, my wife. She rolls her eyes, pulls a face, but it makes everything inside her buzz and sparkle. The way he beams with pride. The way his voice rumbles. She burrows into him, her face in that place between his jaw and collarbone where fear and pain can't find her, where she's home, safely tucked away from the rest of the world behind the orange curtains.

Those years of domestic bliss still haven’t outnumbered the harrowing ones they spent apart, searching for each other, caught up in their loss and trapped in their loneliness. Those years are lost forever. They never talked about it, but the day the balance will tip will be a special kind of victory for Mr and Mrs Morales.

🧡

#Ily Lua #I hope you like it. I should have waited to feel better to write this. But I wanted to post on his bday.#anyway this is ALL FOR YOU whatever it is lol #pleased to meet you #ptmy #ptmy 10 years later #the pilot™️#frankie morales #francisco catfish morales #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #frankie morales x ofc #Frankie & Gabrielle

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alovesreading · 17 days ago

Text

Constant Repeat | Part 19

Summary: Having worked at Focus Creeps for a year, Ella knows that as a production assistant and part of the crew, there’s one important rule: don’t interact with the talent unless it’s needed. But once she meets Arctic Monkeys, and the recording of the music videos for their upcoming fourth studio album starts, the band seem to become her exception. Not only because they treat her more like a friend than just someone else they’re working with but when Alex continuously makes her blush with his flirting, so enthralled by her that he forgets he’s got a girlfriend, Ella finds herself growing closer to him. As videos are filmed, wrapped and edited, the friendship lines become blurry. Situations unfold, secrets are told and others are kept under lock and key, but how long can Alex and Ella endure being stuck in each other’s minds on constant repeat.

Word Count: 28k

Story Warnings: Throughout this series there will be suggestive talk, jealousy, cheating, alcohol and drug use, angst, smut.

A/N: You lot deserve a medal, perhaps a couple awards for all your patience. Thank you for sticking by, being so supportive and willing to wait for me. So much had happened in the past year, I just turned a year older, I got a new car, and I'm graduating tomorrow; lots of exciting things and I'm so incredibly grateful for it all. I just wished I could have some more time to write/read, but I'm trying to manage it a little better and it might be working. I just finished this chapter, it's not been properly proofread but I hope that it's good and not filled with awful grammar and orthographical mistakes. I truly hope you enjoy despite it being relatively short, I really poured all of me to bring you another chapter as soon as I could, fighting all my writer slumps in the process. I hope I was successful, anyway, have fun reading! xx

Masterlist

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There was never a moment when Alex wasn’t on the phone to Ella while the band was away on tour after they got together. In the tour bus, before boarding a plane, in the greenroom before and after a show. It was a miracle to even get Alex to put down his phone for soundcheck and, more often than not, it was because Breana would be the one to record videos to send Ella or FaceTiming the director herself so Alex could concentrate on what he was supposed to do.

It was honestly kind of disturbing to see Alex using his phone so often. The lads had definitely been teasing him over and over for not being able to leave Ella alone—to that, Alex always rolled his eyes and actually refuted them by saying he did leave her alone when she was working and couldn’t use her phone on set.

“Melt,” Matt would say followed by a mocking snort when Alex would pout at his phone screen when Ella couldn’t pick up the phone or hadn’t answered one of his texts yet.

But it was days like those when Ella couldn’t stay on her phone for most of the day due to work that she would sneak into a bathroom and send Alex pictures that she had hidden away in her phone just for him.

One of the first ones he got was when she had been shooting an advert and managed to sneak away from her responsibilities during her very short lunch break. She had sent him a mirror selfie just wearing one of the lacy little things she had gotten for herself when she went shopping with Katie.

Alex, who was slowly sipping his beer while lazily sitting on the corner of the lounge, choked when he got the notification of her text and opened it to a very explicit photo of her.

His eyes went wide and he couldn’t stop coughing. He locked his phone fairly quickly when seeing everyone’s attention on him, but the picture was burned into his retinas and he needed to leave the room—his jeans started feeling too constricted.

“You alright mate?” someone asked.

The singer didn’t even have the mind to focus on who was speaking to him, he just nodded his head as he tried to calm down. Once he got his breath back, he added, “Yes, erm…”

His trailing off was met with silence since everyone wanted an explanation for his sudden coughing fit. Nosy bunch the lot of them really.

“Yeah, fine,” Alex clarified, and without leaving room for their curiosity to continue growing, he jumped off his seat and left the room with a quick, “Excuse me.”

He ran to his bunk so quickly, almost smashing his head open when he hastily climbed into his bed and closed the curtain. Unlocking his phone and getting to see the picture again left him breathless.

Ella was sitting on the floor of her room right in front of her massive mirror, burgundy lingerie set on. He had been instantly caught by the look of her tits almost spilling out of the see-through lace bra she had on, just now he was noticing that she was using the hand she wasn’t holding her phone with to shove aside her underwear and had a finger teasing her entrance.

You’re cruel, he texted back as he fumbled to undo his belt with one hand. I’m so tempted to buy you a ticket and have you in this bunk with me right now xxxxx

Alex was teasing himself over his boxers when Ella’s response came through, Made a mess already? That’s quicker than I expected ;) xxx

Squeezing himself one last time, he shoved down the fabric of his boxers and let his cock spring out. He was already leaking at the tip, all he could think about was burying himself in her, replacing her finger in that picture and teasing her with his cock until she was drooling and begging for it.

He groaned as he ran his thumb over his slick tip, wishing it was her arousal getting his dick all wet instead.

Not yet darling, but it won’t be soon before that. Wish I could make a mess of you instead xxxx

Ella giggled inside the lonely bathroom, looking at herself in the mirror and noticing her flushed cheeks, the color going down her neck. She shifted in her spot when feeling a tingle run down her spine and settling between her legs. Fuck, she wished he could make a mess of her too—she missed the feeling of him pounding into her and the warmth of his cum mixed with hers dripping out of her cunt.

She swallowed a moan as she replied, Wish you could make a mess all over me xxx

Alex groaned as he pictured his cum on her pretty face, tongue licking away the remnants of him on her swollen pink lips. Inside his mind flashed the fantasies of him cumming over her stomach, imagining Ella running her fingers over the mess and sucking on them to taste every last drop of him—the singer picked up the pace of his fist around his cock when he pictured himself licking it all up for her and spitting it all in her mouth, how she’d swallow gladly and pull him in for a hungry kiss.

It never took long for Alex to cum all over himself—or in a condom, if he wasn’t rushing enough to roll one down his length before getting himself off to the sight of her. And after the first time she complained about him not sharing proof of just how badly she affected him, Alex made sure to send her something back.

Ella drove back home with the biggest smirk on her face every time, knowing that she had a treat from him when she got back to hers. After a long day of work, there was nothing better than moaning his name as she used one of her toys while seeing pictures or a video of him getting himself off to the thought of her.

No one really said anything, because they all knew how badly it was to be away from their partners while on tour, but there were times when Alex and Ella were just too obnoxious for the lads to not taunt them about it.

Like the one time Alex felt careless enough to remain in his bunk when Ella called him late one night, her voice wavering and her breath staggering in a clear sign that it was one of those days she was way too needy and had to hear his voice while touching herself.

His jeans becoming too tight as his cock grew heavy when she’d whine and whimper on the other side of the line, her thoughts incoherently leaving her mouth as she fucked herself with a toy that just didn’t feel as good as his cock did but was enough to satiate her need for him.

Alex’s whispers weren’t quiet enough, and the silent gasps he’d let out were too abrupt in the silence of the night to wake his mates and their wives up.

Ella’s fantasies ran loose as she came closer and closer to her climax, she painted the picture in detail as she continued gliding the dildo in and out of her dripping cunt, “I want you to bend me over the bathroom sink, and pound me from behind so hard I get bruises on my hips, baby. Want you to fucking spank me and pull my hair so I can see you through the mirror, and you can see me fucking drooling because your cock feels so fucking good inside me.”

“F-fuck, baby.” Alex groaned a bit too loudly, “Gonna be squeezing me so fucking tight with that sweet cunt of yours. And you’re gonna cum all over me, yeah? Gonna drench my cock, darling?”

Ella moaned louder in response and picked up her pace as she felt herself about to fall over the edge, “Yes–fuck! Yes, Alex!”

“Go on darling, give it all to me.”

His voice dropped an octave as he quickened his pace and he started thrusting upwards to fuck his own fist. He bit his lip not to moan out loud, holding his breath when Ella’s loud mewls and moans of his name came through the phone, cumming inside the condom he’d managed to put on.

Ella’s labored breaths matched his and it was all they heard as they came down from their highs. The crackling of the signal reminded them of the distance between them and, suddenly, the sweet remnants of release were exchanged by the longing of being skin to skin, missing how it felt to relish in how well they fit together body and soul in the aftermath of an orgasm.

“I miss you, sweetness,” Ella mumbled sadly, “Want you right here with me.”

“Me too, darling,” Alex sighed heavily, “I hate being away from you for so long. Will make it up to you, I promise.”

“Yeah?” Ella replied, a cheeky smile growing on her face as she went to tease him, “How will you make it up to me, baby?”

“Anything you ask for, darling. A thousand movies in Los Feliz, the moon and the stars, to worship you until my jaw aches and locks.” He heard her breath hitching, “Whatever you ask for, darling. It’s yours.”

She groaned loudly, “I fucking love you.”

He giggled like a fool, “I love you more.”

“Impossible,” she replied easily with his usual one-liner.

Alex snorted but before he could reply, someone shouted from another bunk, “Go to sleep you filthy fuckers, I’m tired.”

The silence was loud afterwards but Ella laughed loudly after a few seconds, calling Alex out for not going to the other bunk area or the back lounge like he usually did, “You just stayed in there with everyone else?”

“You kind of didn’t give me a choice, darling. I couldn’t think straight the second I picked up and heard you saying my name like that.”

Ella snorted, “Glad to know just how badly I affect you.”

Alex sighed, a loopy smile on his face as he clarified, “Oh darling, you’ve ruined me you know that.”

“Have I?” Ella countered, as if she didn’t know.

“Horrendously so.” Alex mumbled, “Ruined forever, baby.”

Ella bit her lip before going to reply, but again, someone else interrupted their conversation, “We just wanna sleep. You’re gonna see each other on the 6th. Just– please stop it, you soppy twats.”

Alex sighed in annoyance while Ella giggled. Even if he wanted to continue, he knew he’d just have to go to bed because he was sure now everyone in the bunks were awake and awaiting him to shut the fuck up.

So he sighed again before joking loudly so the nosy bunch would stop complaining, “Sorry darling, they’re just fucking jealous.”

A choir of insults and profanities was heard, making Ella laugh again. Alex joined in her giggling before actually bidding her farewell, “Love you, darling. See you soon, yeah?”

Ella sighed contentedly hearing those words from him. She’d never get tired of hearing them nor saying them back. Biting her lip, she replied, “Love you. Sweet dreams, my love.”

“Sweet dreams baby,” he said back before she ended the call.

When Alex went to discard the condom in the bathroom, he had gotten another round of abuse from everyone else. The bullying didn’t relent for days and, every day as Alex pouted when he FaceTimed Ella, she threatened to be even worse if they didn’t leave her man alone.

That only triggered more bullying, but it was funny enough to hear them all creatively picking on Alex, and seeing how his cheeks would tint pink when they’d imitate the noises he made or the things he said to her on the phone.

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll make them pay when y’all get over here,” Ella promised one day after the teasing went on and on.

On the morning of the 6th of August, Ella arrived at the venue of the concert they were having in San Diego. When she saw Alex looking hot as fuck, waiting by the tour bus beside Bre and Matt with a sweet smile on his face, she felt like even the constant FaceTime calls and texts hadn’t made up for all the time apart.

The second Alex locked eyes with Ella, as she got out of the car that he had booked to drive her down to San Diego, he started walking towards her. But she beat him to it, for she ran straight towards him, jumping into his arms eagerly.

The thud of her suitcase being taken off the boot of the car and placed on the pavement was lost in the background as Alex’s hands came to hold her up. Ella was so lost in the fact that she could finally card her fingers through his yet-to-be-gelled hair that she didn’t hear the driver asking where he could put her case. If she had properly heard, she would’ve said it didn’t matter, because it truly didn’t.

The only thing that mattered was that she could finally pounce on Alex’s lips with need, feel his tongue licking into her mouth and hear his breath hitch as she pulled on his hair. His fingers dug harder into the clothed flesh of her ass and she could already feel arousal pooling between her legs from his touch.

“Hi,” she said breathlessly when she pulled back, but before she could continue, he went in for another kiss.

She squealed and giggled into it, squirming in his hold and forcing him to set her down on the floor. But even as she pulled back because her giggles wouldn’t let her keep kissing him, he continued dropping pecks all over her face. The two of them completely forgetting the crowd around them, Matt was the one to tell the driver to please leave Ella’s case by the door of the tour bus.

“Missed you–” Alex mumbled in between his loving attack, “–so much.”

Both her hands cupped his face, stopping him. Just so she could stare at him, take in those gorgeous brown eyes she was obsessed with, the strands of hair falling over his forehead.

Being apart for over a month felt like a crime, but it did make seeing each other again so incredibly sweet. She almost wanted to melt into the floor all because of the flood of feelings rushing through her. Her chest hurt from the amount of love coursing through her veins.

And Alex felt just the same, he was almost vibrating with every feeling rumbling inside of him, like an earthquake that just wouldn’t stop.

His arm wrapped around her waist to bring her impossibly closer and kissed her again. But this kiss was cut short since Matt and Breana, who were done being tortured by the PDA, finally approached them and the model called out from behind Alex, “Okay, my turn now!”

Ella laughed loudly as she pulled back and left Alex’s arms to hug Bre tightly. They swayed in their place, cooing at each other, making both lads smile as they watched the sweet reunion.

Alex clocked on the driver leaving Ella’s case by the door and thanked him just as Matt managed to get his own bear hug from Ella. However, it wasn’t long before Ella was back beside Alex, intertwining their fingers and kissing him quickly just once more before they started moving towards the van that was waiting for them.

Matt and Bre led the way while Ella and Alex followed a few meters behind, wanting to have the other to themselves for a tiny bit longer before the day properly started.

When they stopped by the van, and Matt was approached by the driver, Ella took the chance to throw her arms around Alex’s neck and run her fingers up and down the back of his head. That had Alex rolling his eyes in pleasure at the feeling of her nails scratching his scalp lightly.

She bit her bottom lip at the sight of him—the black Chelsea boots and the black jeans paired with a light blue wash button up, which was half buttoned and showing his chest and that gold chain that made her thoughts go feral, “You look so good.”

Alex raised a brow and a smirk broke on his face, “Do I?”

“Yeah,” Ella nodded, “Fit as fuck.”

The singer couldn’t help but giggle at his girlfriend’s choice of words, leaning in to kiss her as a thank you for the compliment.

When he pulled back, he made sure to make a show of looking her up and down, letting every dirty thought he was having of her show in his darkening eyes, “You look fit as fuck too, darling.”

She didn’t believe him for a second because, even though he’d had someone pick her up and drive her two hours down to San Diego instead of letting her drive herself, she still felt a little rough from the trip. And she was just wearing a pair of jeans and a vest top with a leather jacket over it, her black motorcycle boots matching it, she didn’t feel hot at all at the minute—much less this early in the morning.

“You’re just being nice,” Ella rolled her eyes as she said.

Alex shook his head and leaned in until his lips brushed the shell of her ear and he could whisper, “Darling, you look so fucking hot I wanna take you right here, right now.”

Her cheeks were burning bright red when he pulled back to look right in her eyes, her mouth slightly parted and her breaths became heavy.

After clearing her throat, she called him out in a whisper, “Sweetness, you can’t just say that when we’re meant to go somewhere else.”

“Shall we try my bunk quickly?” Alex quipped with a cheeky smirk.

She flicked at his chest and giggled, heat rushing up her neck and cheeks again, “Stop it.”

The reason she wanted him to stop was because she would say yes in a heartbeat if he really suggested it, and it wouldn’t be ideal for anyone else but the two of them.

Thankfully, Matt saved her decency by turning around and telling them they had to get on the van and get going. Ella couldn’t help the little squeak that left her mouth when she started walking towards the vehicle and thought about how she’d be hearing them live again so soon.

Alex gave her a puzzled yet amused look when he sat beside her on the second row and she was very honest about it for she shrugged and admitted, “I’ve been dying to hear you sing in person again, sweetness.”

With a smug expression on his face, he teasingly asked, “Have you?”

But she couldn’t be anything but honest about it, “Been playing you in the car every day but it just isn’t the same.”

He narrowed his eyes at her, smirking, and called her out, “Obsessed.”

Ella had the brightest smile on her face while she let her hand come over where his hand was resting on her thigh. She nodded, “I really am.”

Alex felt loopy already. Drunk on all of her. He just needed those eyes on him, her touch all over him, to hear her sweet voice, to be enveloped by her scent, to feel her lips on his. So he turned slightly and kissed her again, a kiss that said I love you and I need you and only you.

By the look on her face when he pulled back after they lost their breath, Alex could say he had successfully relayed the message.

Yet, just in case, he promised, “I’ll serenade you,” so he could use another of his favorite languages to tell her everything he felt for her.

The drive over to the studio was barely 40 minutes long, which was relatively quickly considering they got stuck in quite a bit of traffic.

When they got to the place and they walked in, the large crowd of fans and the radio station crew were instantly captivated by the sight of Alex and Matt walking into the room. Breana and Ella slipped to the back of the room where no one noticed them as everyone was too busy following the band members’ trail up to the little stage that had been set up.

Ella smiled like a fool when the lads took a seat on the tall stools right behind microphone stands in the middle of the stage and waved at the people gathered in front of them. Alex offered everyone a quiet greeting that everyone echoed back with enthusiasm.

The room was charged with anticipation and it rumbled inside Ella’s chest as someone brought in Alex’s acoustic guitar and handed it to him so he could tune it and get comfortable with it.

Just as Alex was tuning the guitar and teased a few strums of it to get himself ready, someone handed Matt a pair of shakers and a tambourine. The drummer looked at his best mate and nodded, and right then, the show started.

The setlist started with ‘Snap Out of It’, which was a nice first song since the energy in the room charged with even more excitement. Ella couldn’t help the string of giggles that left her when Alex looked her way and winked as he sang.

‘Do I Wanna Know?’ had been next and it had everyone in the room whooping, whistling and hollering by the end of the song, which made Alex smile shyly to himself and get a little flustered at the response from the crowd.

By the time ‘Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High?’ started, it felt like the whole building had quieted down so everyone, even those outside, could hear how amazing the song sounded with an acoustic guitar, Alex’s rich voice and Matt’s flawless falsetto on the background vocals.

After that, they played ‘No. 1 Party Anthem’ which made Ella and Breana hug each other and sway together to the music. Ella felt like she was levitating hearing Alex singing, her brain flooding with the memories of the first time he ever sang a few of those lines and how that song came to be. She choked up a bit when thinking back to how long ago that felt like and how far they had come since then.

Her emotional state only became worse when they ended their set with ‘I Wanna Be Yours’. Knowing that he had wanted to make that poem into a song for her to get the hint made her chest swell with tenderness.

She was a bit sad though, about the fact that she wasn’t allowed to take pictures with her own camera because she was honestly dying to capture the moment through her own lenses, however all she could do was try her best to engrave it all in her mind.

It wouldn’t be hard to when, by the end of the song, Alex looked right at her and winked. She blushed hard, the heat going from her cheeks down to her neck, but she still blew him a kiss.

Ella felt like her chest was about to burst with pride and adoration, she wanted to run up to him and place kisses all over his face.

When the little acoustic set was over, the lads took a few pictures with the radio crew and made sure to thank everyone for having them and for coming to see them. A few people mentioned that they’d be coming to the show later and Alex made sure to promise them a good show and assured them he was eager to see them all there.

Ella felt a bit selfish when she felt an immense sense of relief right when Alex finally intertwined their fingers together as they walked out. But she cut herself some slack: after being away from him for so long, having him ten meters away for an hour without being able to be stuck by his side felt like torture.

She made sure to steal a quick kiss before they got inside the van to head back to the venue where Jamie and Nick were waiting for them to come back so that they could have breakfast and then soundcheck.

Getting back to the venue was quicker without the traffic, and it was a relief when Ella could finally walk up into the bus and settle on the lounge, cuddling Alex lazily. But what the director hadn’t been expecting was to get so emotional when seeing Jamie and Nick walk out into the lounge to greet her after being gone for so long.

Bless both Nick and Jamie, they made sure to give Ella extra long and tight hugs to make up for the time apart and for the fact that Kelly and Katie weren’t touring with them anymore. But Kelly was due at any moment and Katie had stayed back in the UK with her not only for work but to keep her company.

Enjoying the show without them was certainly a bit bittersweet, but Ella and Bre recorded multiple clips and made sure to send them afterwards.

Throughout the gig Ella couldn’t fight the butterflies fluttering away and rumbling in her stomach, her heartbeat in sync with the beat of every song Alex was singing. The setlist seemed to have been chosen with her in mind, the enamored glances and cheeky winks the singer sent her way during every song nodded to her being right.

After finally being able to call Alex her boyfriend and say I love you as many times as she wanted, every song hit a bit different. Especially those he had written with heavy and silent longing rushing through his veins. It was like the fog had dissipated and every combination of words made so much more sense.

It was probably why, the second the encore was over and the lads officially walked off the stage, Ella ran off to trap Alex in a tight hug. They shared a passionate kiss before the crew walked in on stage to pick everything up, the curious and teasing glances not bothering the couple one bit.

When they got to the greenroom, Alex and Ella were basically glued together, only letting go of each other when Alex went to take a quick shower before they boarded the bus and left for LA.

With how tired everyone was, they skipped staying in the lounge and all went to their respective bunks. Ella’s heart multiplied in size inside her chest when Alex guided her to his, a broad hand on her lower back. The warmth that spread through her suddenly dissipated her exhaustion, having Alex coming in the bunk after her and feeling his body press up against her kickstarted her whole being.

The drive up to Los Angeles was meant to be about two hours long so they were due in the city of Angels in the middle of the night. And, realistically, Ella and Alex would just have to wait a bit longer to have each other all to themselves; but with being so close together after such a long time apart, it became an impossible task to keep their hands to themselves.

It had started with short kisses in between whispers of I missed you and random but brief things to catch each other up with, until the whispers died down and the kisses deepened and all that could be heard in the quiet of the night was the faint smacking of their lips and the soft gasps at fingers digging on skin and pulling on hair.

It became worse when they shifted impossibly closer together and one of Alex’s legs found itself slotted in between Ella’s. His hand clutched onto her hip and encouraged her to press flush against his thigh as they kissed, and soon the kisses became sloppy when Ella started rolling her hips on his leg.

Delicious friction got a soft moan out of her, a sound that Alex would encourage and only aim to raise in volume any other time but in the still silence of the night inside the bus, Alex had to pull back and break the kiss to remind Ella, “We need to be quiet.”

Ella swallowed harshly, slowing down her hips but not stopping entirely—she couldn’t even if she tried. She bit her bottom lip as her face contorted in pleasure and took a shallow breath to be able to promise, “We’ll be.”

Those words were the greenlight for them to shift gears and continue giving into their need for each other.

Alex held her tighter and guided each roll of her hips on his thigh, his mouth agape and his eyes never leaving the sight of her face as it crumbled out of pleasure and how desperate Ella was to chase her high by using him.

She was struggling to keep quiet so she hid her face on the crook of his neck, heavy breaths fanning his sensitive skin and the silent gasps falling right in his ear.

He needed more. So much more.

Alex was completely driven by the need to make her fall apart for him when he let his hand wander from her hip down the front of her sweatpants, deftly dipping inside to touch her where she was aching for him.

Just one barely-there touch to her clit had Ella moaning in a whisper, “I– oh fuck.”

She was fucking drenched and Alex couldn’t help but groan softly, “So wet for me already.”

“Al…” Ella begged quietly when his fingers started tracing slow circles on her clit.

“Yeah?” Alex teased, increasing his speed and when Ella let out a broken whimper, he asked, “Feels good?”

Her hips started rolling again, greedily chasing more, as she nodded and mewled in his ear, “Mhm, so good.”

Alex could feel his cock getting heavy and straining his joggers, he wanted nothing more but to bury himself deep inside her but the situation wasn’t going to allow it so he would settle for the next best thing.

His fingers left her clit and slowly traveled down her folds, relishing in her wetness and just how responsive Ella was to him. He couldn’t help but bring his hand up to his mouth and licking his fingers clean. It was the greatest effort of his life not to let out a guttural moan at the taste of her, somehow sweeter than ever after so long without being able to have her.

Ella shuddered at the filthy sight, left so weak from desperation and need that when Alex dipped his hand back down her underwear and slipped two fingers right inside her, a broken moan left her lips before she could even think of biting her lip to stay silent.

“Shhh, baby…” He reminded her but he really wasn’t helping at all when he slowly dragged his fingers out of her only to plunge them back in and have her gasp as he continued, “You need to be quiet.”

Ella pressed her lips together, her walls clenching his fingers tightly as she apologized in a weak whisper, “Sorry– Shitttt.”

He smirked hearing her struggle to keep quiet because of him curling his fingers inside her and starting to quicken his pace. The corners of his mouth only tugged even more when he felt how she was holding her breath as he continued to pick up his pace, and in the dead of the night they could even hear the sounds of her drenched cunt taking his fingers.

Alex pushed himself off the bunk mattress and hovered over Ella when her hips started moving again, following Alex’s pattern and meeting him in the middle as she started fucking herself on his fingers.

But as she did that, her moans started slipping past her lips louder and louder and the only solution Alex could think of just made for the scene to become even filthier.

With his other hand, he pushed two fingers into Ella’s mouth hoping that sucking on them would quiet her down. A smirk broke on his face when her lips wrapped around his digits without prompting and her tongue started swirling beneath them, “Yeah suck on them,” he encouraged. Images of her sucking him off flooded his brain and when she started slightly bobbing her head on them, the words just came naturally from him, “Good girl.”

It was such a great effort for Alex not to bust in his pants, but with how easy his fingers glided in and out of Ella’s cunt, how she clenched around his fingers and how good she looked as she fucked herself on them, the singer was doing his best to hold up even if he knew he would have to find his release in her hand later.

Ella sucked harder on his fingers when he curled the one inside her and hit just the spot, a muffled whine came from her and he swore he felt a bead of precum leaking from his tip just from hearing that sound come from her.

“Right there?” Alex asked, doing it again and trying to get the same response.

This time, Ella was even more eager as she mewled a louder, “Mhm!” in response. Alex’s quick shush was only half hearted.

Yet, Ella started shaking her head and then pulled her mouth off his fingers and stopped moving her hips even though her body screamed at her to keep going, because she was so close, her orgasm was looming on her. But even though Alex’s fingers filled her up so much better than her own, Ella wanted more.

She needed more.

Alex fully pulled his fingers out of her and placed a comforting hand on her hip as he whispered a sweet, “What’s wrong?”

“I just–” Ella whispered back frustratedly, wanting to whine at the loss of him, her brows furrowing as she tried to say what she wanted even if it didn’t feel like it was possible to do then. “I don’t–” she tried again, this time fiddling with her fingers before she started being a bit clearer, “Maybe we could, erm…”

But her words died into silence and he was left wondering for too many seconds. Alex let his body come to rest over hers and pushed his hips into hers, earning a gasp out of her at how hard he was and how good he felt rolling against her core.

“Say it,” he demanded against her mouth.

She was breathless, the only word leaving her mouth being, “I…”

Alex nudged the tip of his nose against hers and huffed, “Darling.” He had no idea what she wanted but he needed her to tell him, all he wanted was to make anything she asked for was given to her, and he would do anything if she’d just say it.

But Alex still choked when she finally got the courage to admit, “I want you inside me.”

He pondered on it for a split second before saying, “We won’t be quiet.”

Despite the fact that there was nothing more that he wanted to do with her right then and there, he knew that they wouldn’t be able to keep quiet at all.

She brought her hands up to his face, brushing his hair back and off his sweaty forehead, “Well we don’t necessarily need to fuck do we?” She blushed as she indulged in the idea of something she’d been dreaming of doing with him, something she just needed then, “Just want you inside me. I’ve missed you baby.”

“Fuck me,” Alex mumbled before hiding his face in her neck, there he pressed a few kisses before softly biting the side of her neck and making her gasp. The ache between her legs only became worse when he licked up the side of her neck until he reached her ear and there he whispered, “Anything and everything you want, darling.”

Alex pushed off her as far as he could so that they could both shed off their sweats and underwear, a mess of limbs and haphazardly shoved down clothing that ended up being kicked off to the corner of the bunk.

It was all a blur until the moment where Alex hovered closer to her, leaning in until their breaths mixed and they were gasping into each other’s mouths as Alex started dragging the tip of his cock up and down her slick cunt.

She let out a pathetic quiet cry at the teasing, and he listened to her silent instruction by finally lining himself up and slowly filling her up.

“Fuck… You’re feel so–” Alex moaned as he continued pushing into her, feeling the way her mouth opened wider with the stretch of his cock finally filling her up after so long. He wouldn’t be able to last with her wrapped that tightly around him, “ Ella…”

Her eyes rolled back when he bottomed out, “I know– Fuckkkk.” Her brain melted inside her skull, all that she could think about was how she could feel every ridge and vein, how well she was being stretched out by him, how she was burning up just from being like this with him again, “I missed you so much. Fucking missed your cock buried in me so much.”

Alex took deep breaths to calm his erratic heartbeat before he stated, “We can just stay like this yeah?”

“Mhm,” Ella hummed brainlessly, fully fucked out already, “Please.”

Alex’s heart was still doing somersaults inside his chest, but he recognized the feeling just came from how complete he felt at the moment. Saying, “I love you,” in that moment tasted just as sweet as her on his tongue.

And Ella saying, “I love you,” back only made his brain become even hazier.

It was that feeling of being finally complete when they were like this that allowed for their eyes to start closing out of bliss. About thirty minutes passed with them like that, full of the other, but when there was that lingering trace of an orgasm, Ella couldn’t help but squirm around just a little.

At first, it was alright, she was adjusting her position until she ended up almost laying on top of Alex. She sighed out in pleasure at the angle for which she finally settled, but her body reacted on its own, and when Alex felt her clenching around him, he couldn’t help but let out a noise of his own.

“Ella, shit,” the singer groaned, as quietly as he could muster but the depth of his tone reverberated inside the bunk. A shiver ran down Ella’s spine, making her squirm once more. Alex threw his head back, swallowing a moan and choking out, “You’re killing me, darling.”

A broken sob in frustration caught in Ella’s throat as she tried her best not to move again, “M’sorry, I just–” She tried to explain, but she couldn’t without disturbing the quiet of the night. So she lifted herself off Alex’s chest, just a little so she could become more comfortable, but when she shuffled forward a little, Alex’s hips worked on their own and he thrusted up into her.

Ella’s arms wobbled like jelly, she crashed down on his chest just in time for her mouth to press against his chest, right over his erratic heart, muffling the loud moan she let out, “Oh fuckkk.”

Alex’s face scrunched up in pleasure at the friction, his whole body coming up alive with lust. But he did his best to control every atom of his being, stilling his traitorous hips to check on Ella, “Darling?”

Inside Ella’s head was a debate. It really couldn’t be considered one, when her need for him was winning over logic. Through the desperation to have all of him, she struggled to ask, “We can be quiet, right?”

“We can.” Alex nodded, gulping harshly when she moved to look up at him. Innocent charade as she batted her lashes at him. He brushed some of her hair back, admiring every bit of her beauty under the pale moonlight before saying, “I’ll just use a condom so we don’t make a mess.”

The last sense of logic left in him. She just made a mess of him, left him a fool and he had never been this content at recognizing his lack of sanity.

Her pretty lips turned into a pout as she nodded, “Please. Please baby.”

A hand wrapped around her neck and pulled her right to his mouth. The kiss was desperate, lustful; her fingers dug into his shoulders, nails dragging up until she reached his hair and she pulled on it, bringing her impossibly closer to her.

Alex reached a hand into the pocket of his bunk, finding a condom blindly as he continued to kiss Ella. But when the cracking of the foil reached Ella’s ears, she did not waste time to pull away and slowly get off him so that they could finally have the other how they’d been dying to for weeks.

Ella bit her bottom lip to quiet down the soft cry that left her at the loss of him filling her up. She felt so incomplete that the few seconds it took him to rip the foil, and roll the condom down his length, felt infinite.

Alex’s vein protuded on his neck as he held his breath when he held himself in his hand, “I won’t last darling. Come here.”

A hand on her hip, he guided her back down. A hiss leaving him when he rubbed the tip of his cock up and down her slick folds. But as much as he would love to have her ride him, he needed to show her just how much he had missed her, how he was willing to be at her mercy after being apart for so long.

In a swift move, he pushed himself off the mattress and pushed her softly down on it. Ella let herself rest on the bedsheets with a sigh, eyes twinkling at the sight of him hovering over her. Hair falling over his forehead, heavy breath hitting her cheek, his eyes drinking her in and falling down to where they would soon connect.

Silence was loud, charged with anticipation when he lined himself up and started to slowly push in. Staring at the other, eye to eye as their mouths went slack, silent gasps leaving the both of them. Her eyes rolled back and her teeth sank into her bottom lip when he bottomed out, his face hidden in the crook of her neck and his heavy breath tickling her sensitive skin there.

Ella clutched tightly onto him, nails leaving crescent marks and scratches down his back. She felt the flex of his muscles with every thrust, her breath left her in a gasp with every drag and push. Sweat coated their skin, trying to be quiet adding to the effort of it all. They weren’t doing a good job at it, not when they moaned softly into each other’s mouths, not with the way they looked into each other’s eyes as their pleasure built and built.

His fingers dug harder on her hips, bruises probably would show in the next few days, a reminder of his desperate need to hold her close and tight now that he had her. Bruises the shape of his fingers, a self-made puzzle only for Alex to put together forevermore.

The pain of his hold only brought a smile to her face, one that was only broken by the steady looming of her orgasm.

The lack of space in the bunk only meant they were pressed flush against each other, her peaked nipples rubbing on his chest with every thrust. And since the bunks were not reliable to not make sounds with abrupt movement, every thrust was slow and deliberate.

She could feel him hitting that spot over and over again, her walls clenching hard around him as she struggled more and more to keep quiet. Tears brimmed at the edges of her eyes, the pleasure and their closeness only heightening each feeling and emotion.

The tips of their noses brushed with every movement, shuddering breaths mixing together. Alex brought one of his hands up to her wrist, so that he could entwine their fingers and rest their joint hands on the mattress right by her head.

Ella felt her heart exploding in her chest. She barely managed to say in a broken whisper, “I love you.”

Alex’s hips faltered at the sound of that, his heart skipping a beat and his limbs going wobbly at those three words. His entire being felt like it was on fire when he reciprocated with devotion, “Love you– fuck.” He let his face fall on her chest, kissing up the side of her neck and squeezing her hand a bit tighter as he whispered in her ear, “M’so close.”

“Me too baby,” Ella mumbled back, her thighs starting to shake beside Alex’s hips as she started to move to meet him in the middle. Her voice wavered as she pleaded, “Don’t stop.”

It was then that the last bit of thread that held his logic together snapped, her wishes the only thing in his mind. His hips started going faster, the slap of their sweaty skin piercing the quiet around them, their gasps not silent anymore. A lustful, unrestrained harmony that they no longer cared if it reached the ears of their friends around.

Trying his best to keep his rhythm, Alex moaned very not quietly, “Ella. Fffuc– darling,” before he bit her collarbone, trying to silence himself as he felt his orgasm hitting him abruptly.

His stuttering thrusts and the way he moaned into her skin sent Ella over the edge, “Mmm, Alex, baby.”

Her legs shook as her orgasm washed over her like a treacherous tide, his name the only thing she knew other than the white heat rushing through her and making her toes curl.

With the last of their strength they rode their orgasms out, Ella still spasming around him as he slowed down and his hips came to a complete stop. He didn’t take long to lift himself off her and get the condom off him, cock twitching at the sight of her glistening cunt. The most glorious aftermath, he wished he had the space to clean her up with his tongue, have the place all to themselves so he could hear her scream his name as she came on his tongue over and over again.

After tying the condom and throwing it inside a little garbage bag inside the bunk, Alex sighed in content when he finally came to lay down right beside Ella. He helped her pull her sweats back on, and he did just the same, lifting the bedsheets afterwards to finally go to bed.

It took them fifteen minutes of whispered conversation, stolen soft kisses, and gentle touches on each other’s skin for their eyes to grow heavy. But just when Alex was getting comfortable and nuzzling his face in the crook of her neck, Ella’s phone screen lit up with a message notification.

It made the inside of the bunk so unbelievably bright that she could not ignore the text.

(07/08/2014 01:29) Why haven’t you gone to the bathroom yet? That’s how you get a fucking UTI, missy.

Mortified was an understatement. Alex, the absolute menace, only chuckled in her ear when Ella showed him the text. The glow of her phone highlighted the blood that had rushed up to her cheeks, tinting them that bright pink he adored to see.

Alex dropped a string of kisses on her cheek as Ella replied to her best friend.

(07/08/2014 01:30) Oh for fucks sake, you’re awake Bre?

(07/08/2014 01:30) Yeah. You’re loud even when you’re quiet.

(07/08/2014 01:30) Sorry xxxxx

(07/08/2014 01:31) It’s okay, my love. I wouldn’t wait either if it’s been over a month apart. But please go to the bathroom now.

(07/08/2014 01:31) Don’t you think a week of cranberry juice is better than a walk of shame?

(07/08/2014 01:31) Go to the bathroom, you silly bitch.

(07/08/2014 01:32) Hahahaha okay mom! Goodnight and sorry again. Love you xxxx

(07/08/2014 01:32) Love you too, night night xxxx

Alex groaned as Ella picked herself up and off the bunk bed and went off to the bathroom, his clinginess taking him with her. Ella laughed quietly as he stayed outside the tiny little tour bus bathroom, and she shook her head when he squished inside to throw away the condom as she washed her hands.

In retrospect, that was not the smartest decision. Leaving the evidence to their lack of patience certainly made their friends more eager to take the piss out of them the next morning.

“You’re fucking filthy,” Nick said with a face of disgust, “Right above me, as well. I hate you.”

Ella felt slightly bad for the snort of laughter that got out of her, the bassist only shaking his head in disappointment at her amusement.

“If it helps, I’m deeply sorry about that little detail,” Ella said as she hugged him from behind.

Breana raised an eyebrow at her best friend, “Not sorry about everything else? Disrupting our sleep perhaps?”

Letting Nick go, Ella blushed a little as a smirk managed to break on her face, “Not at all.”

Jamie cackled, elbowing a blushing but proud-inside Alex. The guitarist crossed his arms as he continued with the bashing of his friends, “You could’ve just waited until this morning and had a proper bed over at Alex’s or yours.”

Alex was the one to reply that time, “Patience is not my thing.”

“And we all had to pay for that,” sighed Matt, in an exaggerated manner that made Ella smack the back of his head.

“You’re one to talk,” the director quipped, knowing damn well he and Breana were the reason for many times the lads had to go to bed with headphones, or get hotel rooms that didn’t share walls with them.

Matt opened his mouth to bite back but the sound of tires on pavement had the group whipping their heads around to see the arrival of the cabs that were taking them to their respective places.

Alex and Ella were going to Alex’s house, while Breana and Matt were going to theirs, and Jamie and Nick were going to a hotel.

The last two had declined the offer to stay at Alex’s after the previous night, knowing a worst fate would await them over at the singer’s house. The same could be expected if they were to go to Matt and Bre’s, so they decided to book hotel rooms in a posh hotel close to the venue.

With quick hugs and ‘see you later’s, everyone left in their respective cabs.

It certainly had been a wise choice for Nick and Jamie to not come along with Ella and Alex, for the second the couple stepped through the door of Alex’s house, he lifted Ella off the ground and took her straight to his room.

Alex’s kisses dazed her enough for it to feel like she blinked and they were undressed, his fingers trailing down her body to start teasing those noises out of her that he so badly wanted to get drunk on. But Ella managed to snap back into consciousness and ask for them to shower before they could get on with it.

The shower started out normally, they were seemingly rushing to get out of it just at the prospect of what was waiting for them back in the bedroom. That all changed when Alex started shampooing Ella’s hair and a loud moan slipped past her lips.

Feverish kisses under the shower rain ensued after he haphazardly rinsed her hair, as well as wandering hands, and soon Ella ended up kneeling in front of Alex stealing moans and gasps out of him as she pleasured him with that mouth of hers.

Alex was so drunk on pleasure, eyes rolling back into his head, brain melting into a puddle inside his skull. Yet, he had enough of a mind to drag his hips back when he felt himself close, because he needed to cum inside her properly.

He had missed seeing his cum dripping out of her, and wanted nothing more than to stuff it back inside her with his fingers.

So he pulled her back up to her feet, and kissed her desperately and hard until they ran out of breath and then he wasted no time pressing her back against the wall to start the worship of her body.

It was his mouth first, one of her legs thrown over his shoulder and a hand fisting his wet hair. Every time she looked down as her mouth opened agape and moans left her in honey-trickled strings, she found those brown eyes staring at her while his tongue lapped at her like he was starved.

He had to hold her tightly when she came, her legs shaking so much she started to slip down the wall.

After he cleaned every last drop of her, holding tightly onto her trembling thighs and trying to memorize the sound of her whimpers, Alex’s deft fingers undid her next.

Her chest was heaving, and despite the water still spraying over them, she felt like she was dripping with sweat as if molten lava ran through her veins with every drag and curl of his fingers inside her.

This time he left her hanging right off the edge of her climax, leaving her teary eyed and begging for him.

Alex was on his feet and teasing her dripping cunt with his cock in a second, Ella threw her head back in a loud groan at the feeling of him pushing inside her again. It was heavenly, and she really did not know how she was meant to survive without him filling her up this deliciously every day when he was away.

In between sloppy kisses and Alex’s relentless hips, they both came together. Moans and groans filling the air, louder than the pitter-patter of the water hitting the tiles of the shower. Fingers digging harshly on skin, nails scraping and marking each other, fingers tangled in hair and pulling it.

Their rhythms faltered as they rode out their highs, their minds gone for a good few minutes until they came back into their dazed minds.

“I love you,” Alex whispered against her lips, his heart beating out of his chest with the amount of adoration he felt for her.

Ella smiled, loopily, “Love you too.”

When Alex pulled back, slowly as he hissed and Ella whimpered, he watched as his cum started dripping out of her. Fingers caught the string of white and rubbed it up and down her folds to mix both of their aftermath together, Ella watched while she held her breath, her mouth watering at the thought of tasting the both of them together.

Leaning towards the side of her neck, his lips brushed her sensitive skin up until he got to her ear, there he bit and pulled on her lobe before whispering, “Not a drop goes to waste.”

Her fingers clutched tightly onto his arm when he pushed his fingers back inside her, his cum going back in with them. She moaned at the intrusion, her oversensitive cunt clenching around his fingers as she shivered in pleasure.

Her mind was reeling, all conscious thought out of the window, so she couldn’t fight the thought that escaped her mouth, “Can I have a taste?”

Barely a whisper because she was holding her breath, but Alex looked up so quickly, eyes looking for hers. His cock twitched at her request. Who was he to deny her?

Pulling his fingers back, he brought his fingers up to her mouth, and his own fell agape watching as her swollen wet lips wrapped around his fingers and her eyes rolled back into her skull at the taste.

The loud moan she let out the second the taste touched her tongue was so addictive that Alex pulled his fingers out of her mouth and dipped them back inside her to let her indulge again in the taste.

If she continued making those noises, they wouldn’t make it to the show that night. He couldn’t care less about canceling it, having Ella for the rest of the day was the only thing he really wanted.

When Ella let go off his fingers with a pop after the second taste, Alex pounced on her lips with need. He couldn’t find an explanation as to why when it came to Ella, he just couldn’t get enough. He could never entirely satiate his need for her, so he turned off the shower and guided her back out to bed.

The sheets ended up drenched since they didn’t care to dry themselves out before continuing what they’d started in the shower, and they didn’t care to stop pleasuring each other one way or another until they were interrupted by a call from the band’s tour manager.

Alex could barely speak back to Steven during the brief call because Ella wouldn’t stop rolling her hips as she rode him. His voice cracked multiple times, and all she could do was smirk watching his cheeks tinting bright pink and holding his breath.

“You’re cruel,” he accused after ending the call and tossing his phone to the other side of the bed.

Ella leaned forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, adjusting her weight on her knees to start riding him properly again, “You think?”

She pouted at him in faux innocence and he shook his head in response, “Really cru– shittt.”

Her smirk was wide on her face, watching him crumble as she started bouncing on his cock. It wasn’t long before he came inside her again, the view of her tits bouncing right in front of his face, the sound of their skin slapping as it met and Ella’s sweet moans and whimpers, Alex was done for.

The fact that they hadn’t had a proper rest was obvious when they got to the venue and met everyone in the greenroom. It was a mixture of Ella yawning every other minute and the lovebites peeking through the open collar of Alex’s shirt. Another round of shit talking and piss taking happened at the arrival of the couple, which was only met by a giggly Ella and a possessive Alex.

Ella kind of wanted the teasing to continue because she loved feeling Alex’s hands all over her as he chatted back to every comment everyone made about them. Her giggles were bubbly and they made Alex smile brightly every time, he couldn’t keep his facade of seriousness when her chest rumbled against his with laughter at every joke at their expense.

The energy in the greenroom was incredible and it translated into a fucking incredible show. Ella was once again mind blown by the lads’ abilities to put on shows like that, shows that got people screaming and singing along loudly, dancing and jumping around, she even saw a mosh pit from the side of the stage and she was baffled.

The pride that filled her chest didn’t leave her for the entirety of the night, and it showed in the hugs she gave the whole band, the kisses she peppered all over Alex’s face at random, the whispered compliments in Alex’s ear.

“You’re fucking incredible, you know that right?”

The brush of her lips against the shell of his ear had Alex humming in content, but his curiosity piqued, “Hmmm, what are you trying to get darling?”

Ella pulled back and scoffed softly, “What? Nothing! I’m just trying to tell my boyfriend that he is amazing!”

“You’re too cute,” he said before stealing a sweet kiss. Once he pulled back, his eyes, glimmering with devotion, took in how beautiful she looked and couldn’t help but add, “You’re unreal.”

Of course Ella took it as him complimenting her back, so she shook her head with a little giggle before adding, “No, I mean it. I love hearing you sing, it’s my favorite thing.”

Cockily he let himself relax on the settee they were occupying, bringing his arm to rest over her shoulders with a smoothness that dripped in his voice as he said, “What else?”

The snort Ella let out broke the smug look on his face, a bright grin tugging at the corners of his mouth when she scrunched her nose up at him as she leaned in and whispered, “I’ll indulge you just this once because the show was insane.”

He raised his brows, “Right.”

“Stop,” she squealed as she brought her hand up to cover his face and playfully pushed him away. Her own body betrayed her when she hid her reddening face in the crook of his neck and mumbled against his skin, “Okay, I can’t do it anymore, you’re making me blush.”

“No, don’t hide!” Alex managed in between chuckles. The noise made her giggle along, her body vibrating with love and the need to just never leave his side.

One of his hands went up to her neck, fingers clutching her tightly enough for her to gasp as he pulled her out of her hiding place, “C’mere.”

Leaning in until their noses bumped together and their lips brushed, he whispered against her mouth, “I fucking love you.”

Heat rushed up Ella’s neck and cheeks, she felt like a high school girl with an embarrassing crush every time he uttered those words. “Love you more,” she whispered back to him.

That smirk that drove her mad broke on his face, and she already knew what he was going to say before he actually did.

“Impossible.”

Ella rolled her eyes playfully and hit his chest softly, pushing him away enough for his hand to drop from around her neck. But before Ella could joke about him ruining the moment, Alex grabbed the hand she had shoved him with and intertwined their fingers. In a blink of an eye, he pressed their joint hands against his erratic heart and with his other hand, he cupped her jaw to pull her into a kiss that made her heartbeats stutter.

Breana had to swallow a coo at her friends, her heart melting in her chest when finally being able to see them carefree and loving each other; no more miscommunication, just being obsessed with each other like they had quietly been for so long.

Despite them all teasing the couple and making jokes at their expense, they were all incredibly happy to finally see them together. It just made so much sense, it was something that had taken far too long to happen. And it was the best thing to see Alex always smiling, his energy through the roof every night, his laughter a little louder, his smiles bigger.

“We love you two but I would like to sleep and not have my ceiling creak tonight, alright?” Nick warned as he got into his bunk when they all finally went from extending their night on the tour bus lounge to getting ready for bed as they drove up to San Francisco.

Ella snorted, “No promises.”

“Eleanor,” Nick said with a stern look on his face that Ella cackled about.

When her laughter stopped, she sighed and rolled her eyes, “You lot are no fun. Goodnight.”

But the truth was that she was just kidding. When the realization that they were driving up to Outside Lands hit her as they got back on the tour bus, nostalgia overcame her and all the memories of the years that had passed flooded her mind.

And it seems like nostalgia was playing a number on Alex too because after they got comfortable in bed, he asked, “Remember our first Outside Lands?”

Her finger stopped tracing circles on the skin of his chest when she did the math on how long it had been. Her eyes widened and her mouth opened slightly in shock, “God… That was three years ago, wasn’t it?”

Alex hummed, rubbing his thumb on the skin of her lower back, “Almost. We were on the 13th then, so we’re playing 5 days earlier this time around.”

Ella couldn’t help but half sit up and look at him in further shock at his memory, “How– You remember the exact day?”

The singer snickered watching the surprise written on her face, he smirked as he started, “Hard to forget when it was the first time I saw you in cowboy boots.”

Ella laughed at the cheeky wink he gave her, going back to cuddling him as she replied, “You’re funny, sweetness.”

“You looked so good that day,” Alex added, letting his hand wander down from her waist to her ass to cup it and squeeze it as he confessed, “I still remember wanting to kiss you when you put my jacket on during the Black Keys’ set.”

“Careful, people might think you’ve fancied me a while,” the director joked as she tried downplaying how flustered his admission and touch were making her.

Alex shrugged and then turned his head to the side to look down and into her eyes, “They wouldn’t be wrong.”

His gaze fell on her lips and Ella was too weak when it came to him to fight the urge to kiss him. The slotting of their lips together and the brush of his tongue against hers were her favorite things, she couldn’t deny herself from indulging in the pleasure of his kisses. All of them, the hot and needy, the desperate and impatient, the sweet and loving, the hurried but unmissable.

“And now we’re here,” Ella concluded when they pulled back.

A loopy smile broke on his face when he nodded, “We’re right here.”

He squeezed her ass again and she squeaked, making him giggle. That reminded her of how much of a menace he and the guys had turned out to be that first Outside Lands.

Pointing an accusatory finger at him, she recalled, “You lot got me very tipsy that day! I was technically working, but y’all have always been trying to get me in trouble.”

Alex brough a hand to his chest, his mouth opening in offense at the accusation. He was quick to counter the claims, “Matt was trying, I was the one giving you water, remember?”

Clarity hit her when she remembered Alex being the logical one, she had to give it to him, “Hmm, yeah that is right.” Ella shook her head and sighed, “Bloody Matt.”

Alex smiled when Matt was mentioned and he remembered another great thing that happened during the weekend of their first Outside Lands, “And a day after that we all met Bre.”

Ella froze and looked up at him, mouth agape in shock yet again. This time though, her lips pursed into a pout quite quickly as her eyes got teary, “I’m actually going to cry.”

Alex saw the tears brimming her eyes and he cooed, “Darling…”

She sniffled, blinking rapidly to avoid tears falling, “It’s just– I’m feeling really nostalgic.”

“Yeah, me too. But no tears, alright?” Alex spoke softly, brushing her hair back and then letting his hand fall down her face to cup her cheek and rub it softly.

Ella nodded, taking a breath and kissing the palm of Alex’s hand before she recalled a thing which had had her mind reeling that weekend three years ago, “Remember flirting with me at the bar after we wrapped up recording Suck it and See?”

Alex blushed, the cringey lines he had drunkenly used on Ella coming to the forefront of his mind, “Perhaps.”

“You and those shitty pick up lines,” Ella shook her head, “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Alex took the chance of that turn around, smugly looking down at her and raising his brows and impulsing her to continue with a suave, “Oh yeah?”

Ella rolled her eyes as she admitted, “It’s embarrassing how you had me blushing and giggling with those awful one-liners.”

The singer chuckled with her, but quickly and seriously asked, “They’ve gotten better though, no?”

Ella snorted and shook her head no, because they had not gotten better at all. But he took that to slight offense, exaggerating it by gasping loudly and pressing a hand to his chest.

“I’m wounded.”

Sighing and rolling her eyes, she let him have a bit of consolation but not without a dig at him, “Okay they might have gotten a bit better, but you remain a drama queen.”

A scoff left him, “Double murder now.”

Ella gaped at him and pointed out, “See? Drama que-”

But he interrupted with a mumbled, “Shut up,” before he grabbed her face and pressed their lips together.

Ella moaned softly into the kiss, the possessiveness of his hold as his fingers dug on her cheeks had her wanting to climb on his lap and ride him while he handled her however he pleased. But she had promised herself that she would behave herself, and she would.

When they pulled back, she stared at him for a few seconds and took him in all over again, as if it was the first time. She let a pathetic little enamored sigh out before thinking out loud, “I can’t believe it’s only been 3 years since we met.”

Alex intertwined their fingers and kissed her back of her hand softly, “Feels way longer, doesn't it?”

With a hum, Ella agreed. Suddenly the image of him in the studio came back to her in full force, his shaggy hair, that shy smile, and his incredibly thick northern accent. She smiled at him now, who would’ve thought back then that they would end up like this.

“You know, I miss your old shaggy hair,” she confessed to him in a whisper, “The one you had for the Brick by Brick video.”

His brows furrowed, “You don’t like this hair?”

“I love it,” Ella was quick to reply, brushing her fingers through it and biting her bottom lip when his eyes fluttered shut at the touch. She couldn’t help but mumble, “You’re hot,” before kissing him again, a pleasure she couldn’t deny herself. Yet, she arrived at the same initial comment, “But I miss your old hair.”

“Why?” He questioned. It wasn’t like he hated that hair but he thought this haircut suited him better. However, if she was the one to ask him to grow his hair, he definitely could.

She shrugged, “I dunno, it was cute.”

Alex tried not to chuckle, it was obvious that wasn’t what she actually thought of it, “Cute?”

She sighed, knowing he wouldn’t stop until she said what she actually had in mind, “I thought it looked very pullable…”

His eyes darkened and he wasted no time to lean in, their lips brushing as he whispered into her mouth, “Filthy, filthy girl.”

His mouth came on hers hot and hard, stealing the oxygen from her lungs in a split of a second. They licked into each other’s mouth, drunk on their taste and the feeling of their bodies pressed together. The desperation seeped through their pores as their hands started roaming, grabbing, pulling, scratching.

Alex groaned when he pushed his hips forwards, his cock, already growing heavy in his joggers, pressing against her thigh.

Ella had to be the one responsible then. Pulling back, she reminded her boyfriend, “For their own sake, we need to be considerate tonight.”

Out of breath, he pointed out the bottom line of her words, “Just tonight?”

She sighed in defeat when she realized, “And tomorrow night I guess.”

But Alex had a solution and he said it quickly, a statement like it was written on stone already, “We’re sneaking in here tomorrow when everyone’s busy enjoying the festival.”

She frowned, “I’m not missing Kacey Musgraves.”

Alex couldn’t hold back a bright smile. She would always get her way. He nodded, “After her set.”

“Deal,” Ella muttered before putting her hand out for them to shake on it. Alex smiled even bigger when he shook her hand and she added, “Same thing Sunday?”

“Well, do you wanna see anyone?”

She took a few seconds to think about the lineup and the schedule before giving her brief answer, “Just Haim, I think.”

More than pleased, Alex whispered, “We got all day then, darling.”

Ella winked and concluded, “It’s a date.”

And a damn good but exhausting date those two days at Outside Lands turned out to be.

They all got to sleep in while their crew unloaded their set gear, getting everything ready on the Twin Peaks stage before the festival started at noon. When the band, Ella, and Breana decided to finally get up and go to the festival, the place was filled with people and good music.

They all enjoyed themselves, drinking and eating around, dancing and smoking. It felt like Ella and Alex were carrying a shared ticking clock that made them so incredibly eager for the Kacey Musgraves set that their friends found it odd when the couple left before she fully got off stage.

The excuse had been that Ella forgot to get extra film rolls and she had already ran out of the one on her Minolta from all the pictures she had been taking. However, when the two of them got to the bus, they had left a trail of clothes down the hall to the back lounge where they finally and freely made all the noise they wanted as they enjoyed some alone time.

Much needed really, with all the space and the freedom of an empty bus, after having had to hold back the night before, and with the anticipation building up all day. The both of them were spent after an hour of teasing and edging, admiring every inch of each other’s body.

They rushed back to meet with the group once they felt they looked decent enough to conceal their rendezvous, finding everyone getting more tipsy in the artists’ tent by the stage they were performing soon.

A bit of a questioning ensued, but nothing that a round of shots grabbed by Alex couldn’t cut short. The drinks flowed and so did the conversation, in no time the lads were chugging the last of their drinks to go on stage, while Ella and Breana escaped out to the VIP section of the crowd where they had decided to enjoy the show from.

Pride filled the girls’ chests when the crowd got incredibly loud and absolutely crazy the second that band stepped foot on stage. The feeling had the two of them singing a little louder, dancing more carelessly.

When Arabella started, Ella felt a different kind of elation. And everyone could see it, she was practically fucking glowing as she sang and danced, the sway of her hips and her arms up on the air captivated Alex’s gaze.

He was so distracted by her, especially when the bridge started and she stared straight at him while she sang along, that he fully forgot he was meant to grab his guitar for the guitar solo at the end.

It took him a few seconds to realize his mistake, but when he turned and hurried to get his guitar, Ella let out a chesty laugh. Her cheeks hurt from laughing and smiling so hard by the end of the song, and they would continue to ache throughout the whole show for she could not keep the grin off her face.

The celebration of such an incredible show elongated until around 3 in the morning since they managed to bring a few bottles back to the bus. Drunk on vodka and rum—a horrible combination that they would all regret the next day—, they all went to sleep and the snores were heard inside the bus until they all rose from their bunks well after noon.

A hungover Ella barely made it to the Haim set, dragging a heavily hungover Breana, and Alex who was in a better state than both of the girls. At least the good music had been great in lifting their spirits up and by the time they all met back on the tour bus to go back to the festival, everyone felt way better.

They were leaving earlier that day because the band’s flight to Canada left in the early night, Ella’s flight back to LA had been booked that night too, so they only had a few hours left to enjoy the festival.

Alex and Ella took the first chance of distraction to escape their friends and go on with their planned escapade to the bus, one which ended with them loving each other slowly but deliberately, enjoying the last moments of quiet and calm, and of each other’s company before they had to be apart for a fortnight.

This time, they didn’t even bother to go back and find their friends again. They stayed in the bus, taking their time in picking up the mess they had left, indulging in more sweet touches and stolen kisses after they had gone back to resting in Alex’s bunk.

They only moved when everyone got back and it was time to get their things ready before leaving for the airport. As Ella helped Alex put some things back in his case, she truly wished that, in the future, whenever they had to pack their stuff up it was because they were going somewhere together, not saying goodbye.

When they got to the airport, the fact that they all were taking flights was at least a consolation because Ella and Alex could be glued together through security and while waiting. Since Ella’s flight left an hour later than the lads and Bre’s flight, she could freely stay with them at their gate without worrying about missing her flight.

As a group decision, they went to McDonald’s first and got some food to have while they waited for boarding to start. The chatter was never-ending with them all, always laughing and finding new things about each other, picking up old stories and creating new inside jokes. This time, the joke that had been revealed for the first time to Ella were the plane slippers that Alex always used when at the airport lounges and inside the plane.

“Sweetness, really?” Ella laughed when Alex pulled the white slippers out and exchanged them with his loafers.

Alex smiled like a little kid, blushing when hearing his mates starting to take the piss out of him and letting Ella know he always did that.

“They’re quite comfortable,” he mumbled, slightly embarrassed.

The commentary from everyone else was making her laughter uncontrollable, but she couldn’t stop herself from kiss him because she found him so fucking adorable for it, despite how equally hilarious it was.

After a few minutes, everyone calmed down, and as the sun set and the lounge got fuller, the group was caught up by their exhaustion. One by one they started falling asleep, the chatter around serving as a white noise that dulled their senses until they succumbed to slumber.

Ella had been chatting to Alex, their volume going down progressively as they got closer, until they ended up as cuddled as they could be on their side-by-side chairs. Ella’s legs were thrown over his lap, her head rested on his shoulder and Alex rested his head on top of hers, his hands clutching her thighs in place.

They were at peace, enjoying the last minutes of their company. Nothing bothered them until they woke up due to the voice calling for boarding through the speakers. It would be first class first and so the band and Breana had to stand up and get in the line as soon as possible.

Alex wanted to take his sweet time and so he took advantage of the fact that the first class line had gotten long and so there was no need to rush just yet. He stretched in his seat just like Ella was doing, making sure nothing had fallen out of his pockets soon after and just making sure he had his bag beside him.

He turned to stare at Ella as she brushed her hair with her fingers, checking her plane ticket for her gate number and boarding time. When she had repeated the gate number enough times in her head to memorize it, she put the ticket back in her bag, and met Alex’s gaze.

“Rock en Seine in two weeks, darling,” Alex reminded her with that deep voice he usually had every morning when he woke up.

Ella felt herself melting in her seat when hearing him like that. She leaned in and stole a chaste kiss before smiling brightly at the prospect of getting to be in Paris with him so soon, “Can’t wait.”

“I’m flying you out,” Alex reminded her, and she nodded because she knew how long of an argument it had been when he invited her but didn’t allow her to pay her own ticket. But he shocked the air out of her lungs when he added, “Private plane.”

Ella glared at him, “Alexander.”

He looked at her super confused, and as if he hadn’t said the most outrageous thing, he innocently asked, “What?”

“Absolutely not,” Ella sternly decided, “A first class ticket is as far as I will go, not a fucking private plane.”

Alex pouted, resting a hand on her upper thigh and squeezing as if to distract her, “But you can be comf–”

She interrupted before he could even finish that statement, “A seat that reclines into a bed, a champagne glass as a welcome and better food than a damn sandwich and a granola bar is the greatest thing I can think of, so first class is the only thing I will accept.”

He didn’t know how else to convince her, not when she seemed so set on her decision already. But he just had to confirm that by asking, “You sure?”

Ella saw the way his face had fallen, and so she let a smile shine on her face for him to realize that it wasn’t something that was bothering her. She cupped his face and pecked his lips before confirming, “Yes, my love! You’re taking me to fucking France for the first time in my life, even if I went on a dingy little boat I would be sure.”

Out of everything that she thought Alex could say, she wasn’t expecting him to hear her and then reply with, “We’ll go on a cruise next then.”

A blank expression took over her face, her voice humorless as she said, “Alex.”

He quipped back with, “Ella,” in the same tone, struggling to keep his giggles at bay.

The director rolled her eyes and put an end to the matter before he could get any more ideas, “Just get me the first class ticket, I don’t want more than that.”

“Okay, darling. I’ll send you the confirmation email when we’re in Canada.”

With a nod the chat ended, but that meant that Alex was going so, after they stood up from their seats, they leaned in and met in the middle for a slow but bittersweet goodbye kiss. One that they tried to elongate as long as they could, trying to push their human boundaries and fight against their natural need for oxygen just so that they could enjoy a few more seconds of their lips together.

When they pulled back, Ella wasn’t fighting the urge to steal a peck from him, but then Alex did the same, and that turned into an endless cycle of stolen chaste kisses that broke smiles on their faces.

It was so unbelievably cute until the lads started calling Alex over, and the singer fully ignored them, deciding to indulge in one last proper kiss with his girlfriend.

Yet, when Ella pulled back to let him go, Alex followed her lips, stealing kiss after kiss.

“Swee–” Ella tried saying but she was interrupted by his lips on hers, “Bab–” Smack. “Lo–” Smack.

Exasperated because she could see over his shoulder that all of first class had gone in and the band had scanned their tickets, just waiting on Alex to come through, Ella took a big step back and pointed at the door to have him look at the state of the no-longer-there line, “Alex, you’re making them wait!”

He mumbled a curse under his breath, asking himself how the fuck had the line moved that quickly. But it didn’t matter, not when he felt the need to steal one last peck before grabbing his bag and turning around to dash to the door, yelling “Love you!” over his shoulder and waving her goodbye.

Ella laughed as she watched him strangely jog his way up to the door in those horrid slippers, her heart exploding in her chest seeing him just exist. It wasn’t embarrassing at all for the whole airport to hear as she yelled back a loud, “Love you!”

She watched as he scanned his ticket and passport with a big smile on his face. Even from afar, she could see the adoration that filled his brown eyes when he turned around and waved her goodbye.

A few more steps and he’d be gone. Ella’s heart then squeezed and wilted in her chest. But she fought the urge to cry by blowing him a kiss. A kiss that he made a show to catch in the air, like he always did, only this time he smashed it against his lips and successfully had Ella giggling like a foolishly drunk-in-love girl.

The silly, enamored smile stayed plastered on her face even through the terrifying experience that was take-off.

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

Ella had always liked the idea of travelling, though the feeling of a plane taking off always kept her from actually doing it, but buying a new plane ticket always had her giddy. Most of the places she had gone had been inside the States though, not really being brave enough to face the long hours flights outside the country. That was exactly why she had taken so long to process that she was flying to France of all places.

Seeing all the airport signs in French, the thick accents, and quick conversations surrounding her, had her in awe.

She sort of wished she had taken French instead of Spanish in high school, even though that came in handy when living in Los Angeles. She wished she could say more than ‘hello, my name is’ and ‘thank you’ in French. Plus, she knew she was butchering the pronunciation simply from the mocking faces of those she had spoken to at the airport.

That is exactly why she found herself so turned on when Alex spoke some French to the driver that took him to the airport to pick her up.

She squirmed in her seat as he named different places they drove by, and of course he noticed; he had noticed from the very moment he told the driver they were ready to go. Alex knew now exactly what the way she bit her bottom lip meant, how her eyes darkened when her mind was plagued with filthy thoughts.

He kissed her slowly and deliberately any chance he got, it must have been something in the French air—or simply the fact that not seeing her for two weeks had actually managed to drive him mad.

It was clear by then that he was utterly fucked. There was no chance he could ever go on tour without her now, and finding out if he was actually capable of withstanding the distance wasn’t something he was willing to do.

But he would figure that out soon enough. He just wanted to enjoy that very moment with Ella, drink in the wonder in her eyes and how clingy she was after the time apart. Alex wasn’t any better, clutching her thighs as they lay atop of his own, rubbing small circles over her denim-clad legs while he scrolled on his phone to play some music in the earphones they were sharing.

Ella had never really asked how much French her boyfriend knew, but hearing him sing in a foreign language under his breath had her amazed. Really she had no clue if he was doing a good job or not, but it was hard to hide how enamoured she was.

That was until he made her cackle uncontrollably as he sang a song called “Les Cactus” a little louder than he had done the others. Apparently it was his favourite, and it showed in the enthusiasm he had as he made a fool of himself in the car.

Seeing French streets and the countryside as they drove to the festival had taken over most of her experience in the car. Alex made sure to tell her all the facts he knew about the country, along with a little lesson of some phrases in French for her to use. Of course, he added a promise to bring her back, give her the proper experience of a city that he had grown very fond of throughout the years.

Ella was feeling spoiled already, after the most comfortable flight she had ever been on, being picked up by Alex and getting an infinite amount of cuddles and kisses on their way to Rock en Seine. Yet, Alex told her that he had a little surprise waiting for her when they got to the bus.

It left her mind as soon as she saw the guys and Breana around the lounge having a late breakfast, so she gasped loudly when she pulled back from hugging Nick and stumbled into her boyfriend who was holding a box in his hands.

Plain white and with a little red bow, she thought how cute he must have looked putting it together. She kissed that boyish smile off his lips first, a small thank you falling from her lips before taking the box from him with her mind full of intrigue.

He watched expectantly as she sat down at the edge of the lounge settee and carefully undid the bow, stopping before opening the box to ask, “Sweetness, what is it?”

Alex just smiled like a fool, he knew she was gonna like it but he needed to see her reaction already, “Just open it and you’ll know, darling.”

Looking around at the rest of their friends, she was met with soft smiles from everyone. Matt’s, however, did falter as he rolled his eyes when Ella lingered for a bit instead of opening the gift.

“Christ, you’re killing me, Eleanor. Open the bloody box,” the drummer said. He had no idea when his best mate had gotten whatever was inside, and he was intrigued as well.

Ella only chuckled before finally opening the box, and she squealed excitedly when she was met with a cute polaroid camera that she had been thinking of buying for ages.

As she jumped off her seat to hug and kiss her boyfriend, Matt reached for the box to see what it was and he couldn’t help but smile when he realised then why Alex had been so adamant on knowing all about polaroid cameras a few weeks before.

The lads knew all about the inquiries the singer had made to Matt, so they smirked knowingly and made sure to relay the information to the girls.

“He’s whipped,” Jamie said with a hint of a smirk in his voice, the smack of Ella’s lips all over Alex’s face softly in the background.

But they all knew that fact already, and it was pretty obvious just how much Ella matched the sentiment as they all finally went out to enjoy the festival.

Picture after picture was taken and printed by the brand new Polaroid camera that Ella was loving with every bit of her. Every chance she got, she stole another kiss off Alex’s lips, one that Alex knew meant thank you for they came after every picture she would take.

Ella was so incredibly happy she had a new camera to play with while she was over, enjoying a bit of their tour together and could capture the most candid shots and them becoming tangible instantly. By the time the lads had wrapped up their set at Rock en Seine, drove to the airport, and got on their flight back to the UK, Ella had probably around fifty pictures in her bag.

Getting to go to France to see her boyfriend perform had been such a privilege to her, something she would have never imagined would happen to her; but when they took off and were headed back to England, she was filled with another level of excitement since it meant she was finally gonna see them perform at Reading and Leeds Fest.

Reading and Leeds had been something she was looking forward to since Alex told her they would be headlining that year, before they were even together. He had spoken about the festival the same way she would do Bonnaroo, and she had been dying to see them playing it.

The lineup was incredible as well, so Ella was just buzzing with energy the second they landed on British soil.

It was hard to hide, and Alex’s cheeks hurt from smiling so big at Ella’s childish enthusiasm while en route to Reading.

Not only was she excited to see her boyfriend and best friends absolutely kill their set, but she was also excited to meet with some friends she hadn’t seen in so long, like Pale Waves and The 1975.

It was a shame she wasn’t going to see the Manc boys because they were playing the opposite Festival the days the Monkeys were on so they wouldn’t be able to enjoy R&L together, but she was going to be able to see Pale Waves open for the Monkeys both times so that was great news to her.

Ella was really excited to see Alice and catch up with her, since it had been a while since she had last spoken to her. However, she wasn’t expecting to find out what she did while hanging out together in the Monkeys trailer.

It all started with both bands meeting around the Artist’s Tent, getting some drinks together at the bar and chatting for a while.

At first, everything was alright, laughter was heard all around the group, conversation flowing with ease. They had been interrupted here and there by some fans, but nothing that had thrown them or the group’s dynamic off. However, about half an hour later, the amount of people coming up to the lads to ask for pictures and to chat with them started rising to the point they felt suffocated. So the Monkeys decided it would be good to take the group to their trailer for a bit of peace.

About an hour passed and Oscar, Zara, and Connor excused themselves to go meet with some other friends that had just arrived at the festival. And a few minutes after Alice's bandmates had left, Katie and a very pregnant Kelly took their husbands to a set they were eager to watch.

Ella had been so caught up with her conversation with Breana and Alice that she didn’t even think of coming along with them.

Matt had gotten a call about twenty minutes later, and he excused himself to go meet whoever had phoned him, dragging Breana with him. With the door closing behind the drummer and the model, the trailer only housed Ella, Alice, and Alex.

It was an interesting group of people, sure, but Ella wouldn’t have thought anything of it if it wasn’t for the fact that it felt like the air shifted a little. It was like Alex had grown a little stiff, and Alice was a little nervous.

Ella knew about Alex’s aversion for Alice, but after having Pale Waves as openers for so long, the director felt the dynamic that was palpable in the air was a little odd. She would give him the benefit of the doubt, thinking about how it had almost been a year since the two bands had toured together.

However, it was weirder to see the confident Alice she has always known shift in her place a little, stumbling over her words from time to time when Ella was chatting with her.

And there was this look Ella noticed the two shared. She didn’t know whether to be worried or not, because it felt like they were hiding something. It was as if they were wordlessly trying to figure something out that only the two of them knew.

Testing the waters, Ella started inching towards her suspicions. It wasn’t weird that she would ask about Alice’s romantic prospects, but it was odd that she wouldn’t joke along with her when Ella took the piss a bit when suggesting Alice could be their third now that Alex was officially with her.

Not a single ‘leave him, I’ll treat you better,’ that she could have expected, not even a ‘bet he doesn’t make you cum like I do,’ that Ella knew Alice was capable of cheekily saying. And Alex choking on his beer and loudly coughing was another sign, as if he was trying to distract Ella.

So it wasn’t a surprise when the minutes passed, and the director was fed up with it.

She cut straight to the point with a blunt inquiry, “You two have fucked, haven’t you?”

Ella smirked as she watched Alice’s pale skin turn bright red, the color going all the way up to the tips of her ears, and her gaze avoiding Ella’s entirely. When Ella turned to Alex, he was just as red, if not more, and he couldn’t hold his girlfriend’s gaze at all either. Just a pair of deer caught in headlights.

Ella gasped at the discovery. “When?” she asked, with a chuckle that left her involuntarily. She was so shocked, but there was a bitter feeling simmering in the bottom of her stomach.

Silence was all she was met with, and that had Ella fearing the worst.

“Oh, c’mon. I’m just curious!” She faked being calm, a wide smile on her face that was very fake but none of them were looking at her anymore to notice. Ella couldn’t stop herself as she questioned, “When was it? Where?”

Alex and Alice sighed, knowing they couldn’t get away with it anymore. But the simultaneous sigh was the only thing they unknowingly had managed to agree upon, because they both shot themselves in the foot when giving different answers.

“The tour bus,” came from Alice. While Alex had said, “A hotel in Vegas.”

“Oh,” was the only thing to fall from Ella’s lips when hearing their answers. Both of them now staring at the director, their eyes screaming honesty. Ella knew their answers meant it had happened back when the bands were touring together, which meant around November of the previous year, but that didn’t make it sting any less.

She was clearly jealous, she could easily point that out. But she found solace in the fact that it had happened way before she and Alex got together.

The effort it took her to do the quick math in her head had distracted her slightly from the valuable information they had given her. But when she came back to it, her jaw dropped at the realization, “So… twice?”

It was hilarious to Ella hearing Alex let out a quick, “Fuck,” under his breath. He felt caught and guilty, very guilty.

Ella laughed out loud, how could she not? She had to find the humor in the situation so she didn’t drive herself crazy at this new wave of information. “It’s okay, love. Trust me, I get it.” She winked at Alice when saying that. Alice shifted in her place, she had no idea how to react to what was happening, much less when Ella added as she looked at her, “But I’m now sad you’ve fucked him as many times as you’ve fucked me.”

At her pout, Alice easily shook her head, reassuring the director with a genuine, “You’re still my favorite.”

Alex shook his head at that. Ella caught the movement with the corner of her eye and let her hand fall on his thigh.

Rubbing his clothed leg up and down slowly, she said, “Oh don’t feel bad, sweets. At least now you know you won’t have to listen through the wall,” she dropped that bomb on him like it was nothing. Alex was already speechless with her saying that, how had she found out? He had no clue.

But he had much less to say when Ella smirked at him, a hint of cynicism laced through her words, and added, “You can watch.”

Alex let the silence linger for a bit, looking at Ella straight in her eyes to find a hint of humor, but there wasn’t any. He scoffed as an answer, yet that wasn’t enough for Ella. She needed to push his buttons further.

She leant in, slowly closing the distance between her and the singer, her hand slowly creeping further up into dangerous territory. He wanted to squirm in his place, finding his girlfriend’s clearly jealous behavior incredibly hot.

Ella’s voice fell to a whisper, but with the silence in the trailer, Alice managed to clearly listen as she told Alex, “Maybe if you behave I can let you participate. How’s that sound, hm?”

Alice was a little taken aback, unsure if Ella was being serious or not. Her tone saying one thing, but her body language saying another. The question left her without even thinking about it first, “You’re seriously considering it?”

“‘Course I am,” Ella answered, beaming at her. She would be honest when saying that, because she knew that would make for a fun night. She almost wanted to lock the trailer’s door and play out every scene that was flooding her mind with the both of them right then and there.

“Thanks for letting me know that, by the way. It just makes it easier now,” Ella winked at Alice. “I’ll definitely be hitting you up with the details soon, baby.”

Alice was still stunned, not really knowing what to reply to that. Ella stopped her train of thought entirely when she grabbed Alex’s hand and stood up from her seat. The singer followed her actions, just as dumbfounded as Alice, not resisting whatever his girlfriend was planning on doing then.

“Now if you’ll excuse us, baby, I need Alex to come with me. Gotta get something from the bus.”

If Alex wasn’t too confused over Ella’s reaction, he would have easily realized that her excuse to leave was absolutely bullshit. The same excuse they had been using every time they had escaped their friends to go for a quick shag behind their backs. However, all he could think of was how deep in trouble he was now for keeping that information to himself.

They were walking for a while, Alex still lost in his thoughts but his strides matching Ella’s pace. He was conscious enough to notice they had gone past the tour bus area, though. But before he could mention it, Ella stopped in her tracks and faced him with a stern look on her face.

She walked towards him, and he could only walk a step backwards before his back was pressed flush against the trunk of a tree.

Ella smirked, invading his space. She leant forward, noses almost touching as she slowly questioned him, “So… Were you gonna keep that dirty little secret all to yourself then?”

Alex scrambled to apologize, “M’sorry darling, I–”

But she laughed. A hearty laugh that made her throw her head back. He was mortified, not knowing if she was angry or if she was okay with it. It was harder to figure out what she was thinking when he felt her hands fall on his chest, slowly making their way down to his hips as she said, “Alex. It’s okay. We weren’t even together then, why are you apologizing?”

He had no clue what to say. On one hand, he was relieved she knew that it had been ages ago; but on the other hand, he had no clue if it still angered her that he hadn’t told her.

She hummed, cocking her head, as if agreeing with his silence. And then Alex felt her pulling him impossibly closer by his belt buckle, “But I think you blushed a little too much back there, and I think you need reminding of who’s the only one who can make you feel good.”

His head was spinning. The past fifteen minutes had been an absolute roller coaster of emotions and thoughts, but now? His brain melted entirely. All he could mutter was a choked, “Fuck…” as she started kissing up his neck.

A trail of wet kisses was left by her as she made it up to the shell of his ear, which she bit softly before whispering, “What is it, baby? Need anything?”

Alex was putty in her hands already, the words falling from his lips with ease, “You. Need you.”

He felt the smirk pulling at the corners of her mouth against his skin. His eyes slowly peeled open when he felt her leave the crook of his neck, only to find her facing him again. She pressed a long peck on his mouth, humming before pulling back and stating, “You’re lucky I wanna get my knees dirty for you.”

Alex’s breath hitched in his throat as she made her way down by quickly kissing down his neck and clothed chest until she was kneeling right in front of him. He was lucky his girlfriend had purposely pressed him against a tree, for he could have easily lost his footing when she lifted his shirt and licked a strip up his lower stomach before undoing his belt.

She worked with deft fingers, pulling his jeans and boxers down just enough for his hardening cock to be freed.

Her mouth watered at the sight, and it was impossible to hold back from giving his tip a kitten lick. She hummed in content when tasting him again, before looking up at him through her lashes to say, “You look so pretty when you cum and I want you to fuck my mouth, okay? I wanna gag around your cock and swallow everything you give me.”

Alex threw his head back, cock twitching at that dirty little mouth of hers. The same one that started working on him in a split second.

“Shit, baby,” he hissed when she fully sank her mouth down his length until she gagged. He thrusted forward involuntarily, making her choke.

Her eyes watered, coughing a little as she came off him, taking a deep breath before adding, “And I want you to fucking scream my name. Let everyone in this place know who’s making you come undone, yeah?”

Her hand worked him up while she spoke, but it wasn’t the same as her warm mouth so he agreed in no time. A splutter of, “Yeah, yes. Yes.”

“Good boy,” she praised before letting her mouth envelope him all over again.

Alex had no idea if it was her filthy talk, the way she was gagging on him from time to time, or if it was the thrill of possibly being caught that made his pleasure increase tenfold; what he knew is that he was a mess of whimpers and moans. Those sounds would have embarrassed him any other time, if it wasn’t for the fact that when he looked down, he could see her looking up at him as his cock disappeared time and time again in that beautiful mouth of hers.

“Oh–fuckkk, Ella,” his voice breaking as his hips started moving with her. He was so fucking close, his hand came to cradle her head, fingers tangling in her hair to hold her in place.

But she pulled back, her fingers wrapped around the base of him and continued working him up as she took a deep breath to say, “Louder baby, I know you can do better than that.”

Without wasting another second, she went back in. Her hand came down to play with his balls, fondling them and making him see stars. It was impossible for him not to grow louder, “Ella! Fuck!”

His fingers clutched harder on her hair, and she hummed at the pain of him pulling on it without restraint. The reverberation of her moans made it feel so much better, he was forgetting to breathe. He gasped for air to be able to tell her, “M’gonna cum darlin–shit.”

She pulled back again but to encourage him. She was ruining her own underwear just from hearing him and watching how he crumbled down for her. “Fuck my mouth babe,” she encouraged, hand still wrapped around him. She sucked the tip of his cock, getting a taste of his precum and moaned, “I want you to stuff my throat.”

Alex was gone, he had no clue how he was meant to behave as a normal human being after this, “Oh my— Fuck.” His mind went blank once she started sucking him off again, this time taking him to the back of her throat every time. His hold on her hair was unwavering, and his thrusts grew more eager. He watched as he fucked her mouth, tears spilling down the corners of her eyes, smudged mascara staining her face.

“Fucking hell, Ella.” He cussed in awe, “You’re a fucking dream.” His jaw fell as she made a mess of him. Her drool mixed with his precum and fell down her chin to her neck. Alex couldn’t stop himself from complimenting her, “So fucking beautiful gagging around my cock.”

He wished he could take a picture of her like this. Immortalize the moment, or just be able to have palpable proof that he wasn’t in fact dreaming. How had he managed to get this lucky? The words left him without having to even think about it, “Love you.” And they were as true as the tree he was leaning against, and the mud sticking to Ella’s bare knees, the chirping of the birds around them, the far-away festival noises that surrounded them.

Though the sound of his cock invading her wet mouth was louder. His mind was reeling from how she overtook every single one of his senses. “Ah fuckkkk— Love you so fucking much.”

Alex could feel himself about to fall over the edge, an invisible grasp so close to his orgasm. His stirred up thoughts fell from his mouth in a load of gibberish, “Ell— Love you! Oh– fffuckk Ella!”

Ella knew what was going to happen, and it was so incredibly satisfying to feel him twitching as he came, spilling his cum inside her mouth and painting her throat white. The noises he made drove her crazy and she had to clench her thighs hard, moaning in response to how vocal he was being.

She worked him through it with her mouth, enjoying looking up at him through her lashes to witness his face crumble in overstimulation. A bit of cum spilling down the corner of her mouth once he finally pulled out of her. Alex tilted her head back, clutch still tight in her hair, and asked, “Let me see, darling.”

Ella opened her mouth, sticking her tongue out slightly for him to see his cum filling her mouth. He let go of her hair, hand coming down to cup her face, thumb wiping the bit of cum that had spilled out of her mouth and rubbing it on her bottom lip. He sucked in a breath before closing her mouth by pushing up on her chin and ordering her to, “Swallow.”

She did so under his awaiting gaze, and noticed the way his pupils dilated impossibly more. Alex wrapped his hand around her throat, grip tightening and only making her smile wider as he pulled her up until she was fully standing in front of him. He pressed his lips against hers furiously, tasting himself on her tongue making him groan loudly.

The kiss was bruising, marking their territory on each other, unwilling to pull back until their lungs burnt from lack of oxygen. They were heaving when they broke the kiss, and he pressed his forehead against hers, closing his eyes before saying, “I don’t think you understand how much I fucking love you.”

Of course Ella knew what she had just done, and she was happy that it got her the results she wanted. She pulled back and smirked brightly at him, so incredibly smug. Her voice sounded a little coarse, but no one could take away the sass in her tone as she replied, “Oh no, I think I do.”

“There's no one like you,” Alex promised, a love-sick puppy he was, “There’ll never be.”

The director grew even more smug at that, quipping back with a confident, “Yeah, you did say I have ruined you for everyone else.”

He hummed, giving her an elongated peck before confirming, “In the most incredible way.”

“Good to know,” she joked with a giggle, kissing him again for good measure. She looked down at her mud-caked knees and sighed, “Now, I actually gotta go to the bus and clean myself up.” She didn’t even want to look at how ruined her makeup was.

However, Alex didn’t take that literally. He followed after her and hugged her from behind, his mouth coming right to her ear to whisper, “Wanna go to my bunk?” in a seducing attempt.

The sun had almost disappeared on the horizon as they had gotten busy, so she pointed out while the sky darkened with each passing second, “Don’t you have a set in less than two hours?”

He was dropping kisses on the side of her neck as they clumsily walked back to the bus, “Plenty of time.”

Her eyes fluttered closed for a second, “Sweetness…”

His teeth grazed her sensitive skin and he felt her shudder in his arms, “They won’t miss me.”

She laughed, stopping for a second to turn around in his grasp and look him in the eye to point out, “You forget you’re THE Alex Turner.”

He rolled his eyes, playing himself down, “Another boring ol’ bloke.”

“Oh you’re being humble now?” She jokingly asked, bringing her hand up to his forehead to continue her teasing, “Have you gotten a fever?”

He snorted, and told her, “Shut up.”

Only for her to give him whiplash as she replied, “Maybe if you’re good I can ride you out there tonight.”

His eyes went wide and she cackled, “Don’t look at me like that. Think you quite enjoyed the fact that we could get caught, didn’t you?”

He stayed quiet for a bit, until she poked his side and he gave in with a shy, “Perhaps,” that made her smile.

“Filthy boy.”

Though Ella would’ve loved to turn his back to the earth and show him his place by riding him and reminding him just how perfectly they fit together, the festival took up their time and they couldn’t find an appropriate moment to disappear like they had done earlier.

Reading and Leeds had been incredible though. Ella found herself having the most amazing time there with all her friends,finally understanding the magic of the festival that her boyfriend held so close to his heart.

They had endless pictures to remember the weekend by, thankfully. And Ella had gone Instagram official with Alex to the entire world after Katie posted a picture of Ella on Alex’s shoulders in the crowd.

She had been nervous at first, struggling to find the courage in her to see the comments after that stupid article that sent her spiraling back in June. But when she had gone through them as she cuddled Alex, she had found more love from fans than any negativity, and it had her so relieved.

Alex dropped a kiss atop of her head, “Told you no one can just not love you as soon as they meet you.”

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

Usually Ella really hated Mondays, just like anybody else, really. But the Monday after Reading and Leeds weekend sounded very promising as soon as Florence had vaguely proposed a gathering at her and Matty’s flat to celebrate.

Flo had mentioned drinks, music, and all their friends in one place. What else could Ella ask for?

Ella had been buzzing with energy as she got ready, stealing kisses here and there from Alex’s lips, humming and singing along to the music she was playing as she chose what to wear and how to do her hair.

It was the last few days she had over in England before going back home, so she was making sure to enjoy every second she had left with her friends being all walking distance from her.

She had even surprised Alex when she dashed to knock on Alice’s door and invite her over to Flo’s so that she could introduce her to everyone there. Little did she know, the singer was well acquainted with everyone. But she would find out soon enough.

“Hey beautiful,” greeted George as soon as Ella stepped into his arms to say hello.

She hummed in the embrace, George holding her a little tighter by the waist when noticing Alex’s intense stare on his every move. Ella was none-the-wiser as she pulled back and gleefully asked the drummer, “How are you? I haven’t seen you in ages.”

Of course George would want to make Alex squirm a little, so he made sure to put a little more suave into his voice to cheekily reply, “Alright now that I see you again.”

Nick, who had been the one to open the door for the lovebirds, walked past to get another beer just in time to hear George flirting with Ella, so he warned with humour dampening his words, “Back off mate, Turner will kick your teeth in.”

George let a cheeky smile tug at the corners of his mouth, turning to the singer to nonchalantly say, “Oh, I heard.” He had heard just enough about it to know that they made a great pair, and he could see it now, the way the joy shone on their faces when they walked in holding hands. It wasn’t hard for the drummer to sincerely add, “Congratulations, yous make a lovely couple.”

That made Ella coo loudly, wrapping her arms around George’s waist in a quick hug as she accepted the compliment, “Awh, thank you G.”

Alex nodded his head slightly, a winning smile on his face before patting the drummer’s shoulder and matching his girlfriend’s sentiment, “Ta, mate.”

The drummer squeezed Ella for a second before she let go, but couldn’t let the pair go before joking with Alex, “You alright? Bet she’s wearing you off.”

Alex caught the innuendo straight away, the reminder that George and Ella had shagged before making him curl his fingers into fists, but a smirk cracking on his face as he remembered he got Ella in the end, not the drummer.

Proudly, he nodded and confirmed, “Nothing I will ever complain about.”

“Hmm, isn’t that right.” George replied, turning to Ella and looking her right in the eye as he added, “She does make it enjoyable to lose hours of sleep.”

Ella gasped and slapped his arm, before telling him to “Shush.”

George let out a loud cackle at her reaction, and watched as she grabbed Alex’s hand and dragged him further into the flat so that they could finish saying hello to everyone there.

It was impossible for her cheeks not to hurt while they were at the Healy’s place. Seeing all their friends in one place, sharing drinks, drowning the music playing through the speakers with chatter and laughter; simply just existing all together—it brought a massive smile to Ella’s face that she just couldn’t wipe off.

The drinks she had been nursing had started to translate into a nice buzz inside her. Her head felt lighter and laughter flowed out of her with ease. She kept clinging to her boyfriend when she sat right beside him in a loveseat in the living room, but she also found herself looking for physical contact with everyone. Subconsciously, she was making sure she hugged all her friends enough to not regret not doing it when she went back to LA alone.

That meant Alex was on edge when George would pull her in conversation, and his arm would confidently wrap around Ella’s waist while she clutched onto his arms, giving him all the attention in the world when the drummer spoke.

There had been a moment, Matty had turned the speakers’ volume up as one of his favorite tunes came on, but that meant Ella struggled to have George listen to what she was saying. Alex’s heart dropped to his ass when he saw Ella wrapping an arm behind the drummer’s neck and pulled him in. The singer feared the worst, his blood running cold instantly, but there was a slight wave of relief when her mouth moved right next to his ear, instead of the drummer’s lips.

When Ella came back to the loveseat he was occupying, Alex sat her down on his lap, wrapping his arm around her waist. He happily accepted the kiss Ella gave him, elongating it as much as he could and silently hoping that George was watching.

Alex was jealous, and he would admit it. He had hope that, by then, George had caught the sign and he would turn it down a notch when it came to Ella.

But Alex had been hopeful far too soon, for there was a knock at the door, and when Florence opened it, Alice walked right into the flat grabbing Ella’s attention instantly.

“Hi Allie,” Ella said as she hugged the singer by the waist.

Alice smiled and dropped a kiss on Ella’s cheek, “Hey baby. Missed you.”

Ella giggled as she pulled back, “I know, those twenty four hours were unbearable.” Last they had seen each other had been the day before, when they said goodbye to each other as the bands finally left Leeds Fest and went back to London.

“Thanks for inviting me, by the way,” Alice said earnestly, she could see many familiar faces that she had missed, “It’s good to finally see old friends again.”

“Old friends?” Ella was slightly confused. She had been ready to go around introducing Alice to the Manc boys. “You know the 1975 guys?”

“Sure do,” Alice smirked as she reminisced, “Some better than others.”

Ella understood the innuendo straight away, and her brain started working overtime to figure out who she could mean. Only the answer fell right onto her lap when none other than George walked up to them and a confident smile appeared on Alice’s face as she greeted him like they had history, “Well hello there, George Daniel. Long time no see.”

“Alice Gillespie,” the drummer replied with a sultry voice. If Ella wasn’t so shocked, she would have shivered at his tone. And the director’s jaw would only fall more when he went to hug Alice and noted, “It’s been a while since I’ve had you in my arms.”

Alice let out a hum of satisfaction, one so similar to the sounds Ella knew the singer made while in bed, “Oh I’ve missed the feeling.”

The tension that surrounded them was so heavy, Ella’s words came out of her in a hurry, “Wait– You two…?”

Alice nodded, smirking at Ella’s surprised face, “Yeah. Ages ago, when we were just introducing our names in the music scene.”

“She’s grown,” George said, taking a step back to make a show of looking Alice up and down, “In all aspects of the word.”

“You too George,” Alice bit her bottom lip when noticing the way his arms flexed and tightened the fabric of his shirt, “I might just cling to these muscly arms all night if you let me.”

Ella knew the look on each other’s face, and her face went bright red as she knew they were undressing each other with their eyes. She felt like she was intruding in an intimate moment, but her body was going against her reason for she wanted to stay and watch if they let her. Fuck, her mind was flooded with dirty thoughts already, her skin heating as if molten lava was coursing through her veins at the thought of Alice and George together.

“Y’alright, Ella?” George’s voice got her out of her trance.

“Yeah, yes,” Ella replied, shaking her head, “I’m just a bit in shock.”

“You’re cute, baby,” Alice snorted, watching the way her flush reaching down her neck and up to the tips of her ears, “Your every filthy thought is written all over your face. S’a pity you’re taken now.”

Ella felt like a deer caught in headlights, her mouth opened and closed as she worked out an excuse in her head but nothing worked. Alice giggled loudly, dropping a quick kiss on her cheek before grabbing her hand in plans to get to the bar so they could get some drinks.

“We’ll see you around Georgie. Don’t get lost, I quite enjoy the view,” Alice winked at the drummer, and he smiled big and bright at her.

He had missed her cheekiness a lot, a buzz of excitement brewing inside him. Winking back at her, he promised, “Won’t stray too far then, gorgeous.”

After some shots, Alice and Ella went around the party chatting with everyone, until Ella went back to Alex who had just welcomed Miles into the flat. Ella had fully forgotten about Alice and George’s situation until Miles mentioned how they looked like they were gonna take up the guest room at any second and just enjoy each other for days.

They looked fit together, and Ella had been first hand witness of the suffocating tension that enveloped those two. From then on, Ella would admit she had been a bit distracted watching them from afar, wondering what it was that they were whispering to each other, in awe of how they orbited back towards each other as time passed.

George and Alice had noticed her wandering gaze, and they had reached a moment in which they silently agreed they would give into Ella’s curiosity and let her be in the middle of the sandwich.

Teases, the both of them were, for they were smooth with it and Ella was naive to their silent plan. They would individually come up to her, almost like taking turns, only for the other to join them and aim the flirting at each other. If Ella had pearls adorning her neck, she would’ve most likely been clutching them as Alice and George taunted the other; maybe even recalling aloud the times the two had shared before, leaving Ella jaw dropped and incredibly flustered.

Alex had been so relieved when Alice and George kept each other busy and left Ella alone to mingle around. And though he had wanted to smack the back of Miles’ head for bringing Ella’s attention back to the pair, he was glad they had stayed away from his girlfriend.

The last he had seen of Ella, Bre had taken her away from him to catch up with Katie and Kelly, who had just had a doctor’s appointment that morning and had gotten some great news about the baby. She was almost 34 weeks, and they were all expecting the baby’s arrival quite soon. Ella was quite gutted she was leaving before Kelly’s due date, but she was so happy that in no time, they would all have their little baby Monkey to spoil.

Alex had been chatting with Ross and Matt for a while in the kitchen. They had been nursing their drinks and getting refills as they stood right next to the selection of alcohol available to everyone, best seats in the house really, plus the music was not as loud there so the conversation flowed easily.

However, when he came back out to the living room, he saw Katie, Bre, and Kelly chatting all alone, Ella seemingly gone from that group of people. He looked around the room, confused for he could not find her. He walked further down, decided to go to the bathroom and knock on the door, and then he saw her in the corner of the room with George and Alice.

He hadn’t noticed he was standing in the middle of the room, the grip on his beer bottle tightening, jaw clenching. Florence had noticed straight away, she had been watching the trio in the corner of the room very attentively for the past ten minutes, and then Alex walked into the scene.

Flo couldn’t help but excuse herself and walk up to her best friend to take the piss out of him for a bit.

She smirked as she walked up to him, coming to stand right in front of him to block his view, “You’re blowing steam out of your ears, Shakespeare. Pipe down.”

His eyes didn’t move from where Ella stood, but his view was slightly blocked by Flo’s smirking face. His jaw tensed when he watched Alice playing with Ella’s hair as they talked, “Tell them to back off and I will.”

Flo rolled her eyes, turning around to watch the show the singer was fuming over, “Oh please. They’re doing all that just to rile Ella up, she’s been bright red since she learned Alice and George used to be fuck buddies back in the day.”

That got Alex to drop his gaze from them and direct it at Florence, “They did?”

She hummed in confirmation, but she couldn’t let the opportunity pass to torment Alex some more, “And if I don’t recall incorrectly, I reckon that was Ella’s dream threesome.”

Alex rolled his eyes and sighed exasperatedly, “I hate you, Florence. I sincerely do.”

“No you fucking don’t,” Flo mocked him with laughter, “Stop staring at them like a twat, go get your girl.”

Alex frowned, looking at Florence and using a stern tone to say, “She’s quite distracted by them. Even with me next to her.”

“Well, we all are, mate,” Flo replied with a roll of her eyes, “Those two look hot as fuck together. They did back then, but they look even hotter now. And I heard all the stories back then. They are filthy and I think Ella can tell.” It would have been a shame if she didn’t bring up Ella’s adventures the last time she was in the UK, “After all, she’s got them both multiple times before.”

Alex closed his eyes, letting his head drop and sighed almost like in pain. When he looked up at his best friend again, she could see the desperation in his eyes, “Angel. You are not helping. At all.”

“Sorry. It’s just funny seeing you all riled up,” Flo couldn’t help but laugh at him for a bit. She found his determent hilarious when Ella was already his entirely and loudly for everyone to know. The artist shook her head at him, taking the bottle from his hands, essentially dismissing him early from the gathering and giving her the blessing to leave, “Go get her and show her a good time. Might be able to wipe both their names off her head if you just play your cards well enough.”

When Alex looked at the trio again, Alice was leaning in too close for his liking. He set off instantly, and Florence had managed to move out of his way fast enough so he didn’t barge into her.

“Mind if I steal her for a second?” He attempted a smile at George and Alice as he interrupted them, but he only managed a crooked grin that didn’t seem genuine at all.

Ella looked up at him for a quick second, a soft smile on her face, entirely ignorant to the jealousy that coursed through him which was only fueling his need to take her back home and fuck her dumb until the only thing she could remember was his name.

Alice nodding and George saying, “All yours,” brought a bright smile to Alex’s face.

He interlocked his fingers with Ella’s and took her with him. He wasn’t walking fast at all, for his Irish goodbye to not be noticed, but he muttered under his breath at her, “We’re leaving.”

Her brows furrowed, but she didn’t stop walking next to him, “It has barely been four hours.”

He wouldn’t give her an answer, just repeated, “We’re leaving.”

But she noticed the way his jaw clenched, and realised the silent hostility in his eyes when he had approached Alice, George, and herself then, the pieces coming together to complete the puzzle.

Instead of finding it annoying, she found it adorable, “Awh, are you jealous?”

He turned to her when they reached the flat’s door, his eyes hard and his words stern, “Keep running that pretty little mouth and you’ll find out.”

“Don’t tempt me with a good time,” she joked, and the smirk she gave him made him want to push her against the door and take her right there and then.

He groaned, opening the door and grabbing her by the waist to lead her out first, “Smartarse.”

There was no way he could endure walking back home then, he needed to get home as soon as possible so they took the first cab they saw outside. Ella’s mind was reeling, she was intrigued by what had set him off, but also excited by what awaited her once they crossed the threshold of Alex’s flat.

Turns out, she was promised some teasing and far too many orgasms. Her clothes had been shed as soon as Alex closed the door behind him. In between sloppy kisses, his hands worked to get her out of everything that covered her.

His mouth distracted her as he kissed down her neck, never once stopping his walking until her back bumped into the settee. Her mouth fell open when Alex bit her neck, the pain morphing into pleasure, eyes rolling back into her skull when his tongue swiped over the damage.

His hands groped at her tits, kneading harshly, while his mouth looked for her lips again. He swallowed every moan as he pinched her nipples, her legs wrapping around his waist and trembling with the overflow of sensations.

One of his hands wrapped around her neck, choking her in the way he knew she liked. His other hand traveled down her body, until he could swipe his fingers up her cunt. She was already drenched for him, he groaned into her mouth.

Alex pulled back harshly, strings of spit connecting their lips. Ella looked for his mouth again but he grabbed her by the waist and turned her around. With one hand on her back, the other still holding her tight by her waist, he bent her over the settee and he fell to his knees for her.

He kissed up the backs of her thighs, gasps falling from Ella’s lips as he sucked bruises into her sensitive skin. Alex repeated his process on her other thigh, until he got to her ass and bit into the soft flesh there.

“Fuck! Alex!” She had never been one for biting, but her knees kept buckling every time his teeth would sink into her, and now she was growing obsessed with the feeling.

He hummed at the sound of his name falling from her lips, but he needed more. He had to hear Ella screaming his name for everyone to hear.

Alex guided her feet further apart, so he could spread her open and comfortably find his home between her legs. His tongue came over her clit, circling it and then sucking mercilessly. Ella gripped onto the cushions, moaning loudly when he shook his head and hummed, the vibrations driving her crazy.

He lapped at her with hunger. Her sopping hole puckered with every tease of his tongue, but he wouldn’t pay it no attention, not even when Ella pleaded, “Baby, your fingers, please. I need you.”

But Alex wouldn’t relent. Not when he wanted her at his mercy.

He kept on sucking and lapping at her clit, flicking it with the tip of his tongue. Ella was a mess of cries and moans, her legs growing weaker by the second. Since she was bent over and her head was down, all the blood rushing through her head made every sensation increase tenfold, so it wasn’t a surprise that her orgasm was approaching her rapidly.

Despite them being freshly together, Alex knew her cues like the back of his hand, so he could tell that she was about to cum. And when her thoughts started leaving her without restraint, begging for him not to stop, saying over and over how much she loved his tongue on her, Alex stopped.

Ella cried loudly, “No! Bab– What are you doing? I was so close!”

Alex stood up, pressing his hips flush against her bare cunt so that she could feel how hard he was in his jeans. She moaned at the feeling, trying to roll her hips against him to look for friction but he tutted, “Stop that or you won’t cum at all tonight.”

Another cry left her again, but he ignored it. Instead, he leaned over her, grabbing a fistful of her hair and pulling on it harshly so that he could whisper in her ear, “We’re going to our room and I’m gonna show you how to behave.”

A whimper fell from her lips, she was dizzy from her stolen orgasm, the pent up pleasure that was begging to be released, the pain from her hair being pulled like that, and just how turned on she was by him taking control.

Once they got to the room, he hovered over her and rewarded her with some kisses. But she was being greedy, wanting to keep his mouth on hers when he had other plans. So Alex kept tutting at her, having to flip her over again and ordering her to stay right where she was as he took his shirt and jeans off.

She looked over her shoulder, staying in place but hungrily watching Alex shedding off his clothes. Her mouth watered at the sight of his hard cock straining his black boxers, she almost wanted to ask if she could suck him off first, but before she could even open her mouth, he came over her using one of his legs to push hers apart and admire his effect on her.

“So needy,” he deemed her, pressing a kiss on her shoulder. “Asking for my fingers like that. Maybe if you behaved I could give you what you want.” His proposal was followed by his fingers dragging up and down her folds, gathering her slick and bringing his fingers up to her mouth.

“Are you gonna do what I tell you?”

Ella’s voice was a squeak, “Yes. Yes, I will.”

That satisfied him. Nodding, he brushed his fingers against her lips, “Suck.”

Her lips wrapped around his slick-covered fingers, and without breaking eye contact she took them in all the way down to the knuckle. Her tongue worked to lap at it all as her head bobbed slightly. Alex watched her with his jaw clenched, heavy breaths leaving through his nose; Ella could feel him heavy in his boxers and throbbing for her.

She pulled back once she was done, offering him a sweet and innocent smile that drove him to push his hard on against her, “Good girl,” he praised before bringing his fingers back down and finally filling her up.

“Oh, Alexxx,” she cried into the pillow her head was resting on, fingers clutching onto the duvet, “That feels so fucking good.”

He hummed, watching his fingers glide in and out of her with ease. He started curling them, and she trembled when he hit that spot that drove her crazy over and over again.

“Shit! Right there, baby!” Her hips started moving, though they were constricted with his weight over her. But she was trying, and when Alex added a third finger, all Ella could think about was chasing her orgasm.

Her toes curled and her walls clenched around Alex’s fingers the more he increased his speed. The sound of his fingers invading her wet cunt drowned her ears, and her senses were on overdrive from the combination of it all. His heavy breaths hit her hack in tickles, goosebumps breaking all over her skin as she felt herself nearing over the edge.

“Alex, please,” she begged. “I’m so close, baby, please let me cummmm.”

The ache he was feeling from how hard he was clouded his thoughts, that and the sight of it all. So he gave into her wishes, just with one condition, “You can cum, but only if you cum on my cock right after this, darling.”

She nodded enthusiastically, “Yes! Yes! I’ll drench your cock, baby, just keep– Fuck! Don’t stop!”

Just the thought of having her wrapped around him pushed him to get that orgasm out of her, so he sped up, and Ella went right over the edge with a guttural moan that ripped through her throat almost as intensely as her orgasm shook her.

Alex fingered her through it, until she whimpered, “No more, please.”

But she had forgotten what she had agreed to, and before she knew it, Alex flipped her over again so she was on her front, getting off the bed to shed off his boxers quickly and laying over her once more.

Ella’s jaw dropped when she felt him brushing the tip of his cock up and down her cunt. Her legs shook as she was overstimulated, and her brain melted in her skull when he lined up and pushed in slowly inside her.

Her nails dug into his back, a loud moan out in the air harmonizing with Alex’s deep groan as her walls squeezed Alex tightly. He had no idea how he was meant to last if she was this tight.

He dragged his hips back slowly, coming back in faster and harder, setting an agonizing pace that had Ella holding onto him for dear life and almost sure that she was gonna squirt all over him any second. She had no time to recover from her past orgasm, so she felt like she was going to explode at any second. Her skin felt on fire, every cell of her body vibrating so much she could just combust.

And with Alex nipping and biting at her skin, the slow drag out and hard push into her, Ella only had so little left in her before she came again.

Alex seemed to have been in the same boat, with him having been so hard while he teased her, and with how she was squeezing him, the drag of her nails on his skin, and the delicious sounds of her moans and whimpers, Alex picked up the pace and soon the bed was creaking with every thrust.

“Alex! Alex! Fuckkkkk—,” she cried aloud, her core tightened and she felt like she was losing control over her body entirely.

Panting, Alex tried to keep up his pace the best he could, while approving her cries for him, “That’s it, darling. The only name I want falling from your lips.” One of his hands came down, pressing atop her mound, wanting nothing more than for her to drench him and the sheets.

A loud gasp left her when the pressure of his hand appeared, her body no longer fighting her, and she squirted all over him with a yell, “Shit! Alexxxx!”

He looked down at the show, everything was wet and slick, and she was spasming around him with every thrust. He grunted as he felt himself about to fall over the edge, that was when she brought her hands to his hair and pulled on it harshly to bring his gaze up to her face and say, “Cum inside me, Alex, please.”

Her swollen lips were glistening with spit, her face shining with sweat, and her hair all disheveled. She was a fucking work of art, just a look at her in this state and those words falling from her lips sent him right over the edge.

His hips stuttered, as he came hard and her walls milked every drop of his cum. He ended up slumping right over her, hiding his face in the crook of his neck while they both gathered their bearings.

The feeling of their erratic hearts, the fall and rise of their chests, Ella drawing circles on his back, Alex leaving feather-like kisses on her neck, it all had their eyes fluttering close. That was until Alex lifted his head up and caught the sight of Ella’s new polaroid resting atop of the nightstand.

He had hated how much the sight of George’s face had reminded him of those pictures he and Ella had taken back then. And he wanted to erase any trace of that memory from his own mind but also Ella’s.

He pulled out and stood up quickly, leaving Ella pouting in bed while she watched where he was going.

When she watched him grab the camera, she frowned in confusion, “Sweetness, what are you doing?”

Alex turned the camera on and checked the amount of film it had left just like Ella had taught him, he smiled seeing that there were 7 frames left for him to use. She looked stunning there, all worn out and flushed. Alex brought the camera up to his eye, ready to press the shutter, but he had to ask first, “I want to take you like this with me on tour, can I?”

Heat rushed up to her face, cheeks tinting red, but she smiled entirely pleased by his words, “‘Course you can.”

He walked up to her, getting back on the bed and watching her adjust herself for him. She rested more upright on the pillows, brushing her unruly hair and biting her bottom lip for him. He brought the camera to his eye again, watching her through the lens and pressing the shutter.

Without even waiting for the picture to reveal itself, he tossed it to the side and continued to take some more. She brought her hands up to her tits for the next one, pinching her nipples, face contorting in pleasure that he captured just in time. He was gonna have such a good time looking back at them while on tour, he had to lean in and kiss her before continuing.

It was then that Ella got friskier, opening her legs up and having completely forgotten that he had just cum inside her, his cum dripping out of her glistening cunt.

“Shit, we made a mess,” not only was the mix of them dripping onto the duvet, it was also drenched from her squirt.

Her fingers came down to her dripping hole, and as she was gathering some of it on the tips of her fingers, Alex pressed the shutter.

Ella smirked, looking up at him and tutting, “You’re filthy.”

“Push it back inside you, darling. Let me take a picture of that.”

Since she had promised she would be good and listen to him, Ella did just that.

“Fucking hell,” Alex cursed under his breath, the shutter going off coming right after his gruff voice.

Ella got carried away fucking their cum inside her, legs trembling slightly as she was still so sensitive. Alex could only watch with his mouth open agape, throat going dry when she proceeded to pull her fingers out, and look at him directly in the eye before sucking them clean.

He was so entranced by the view, that he forgot to take the picture, so she joked, “Want me to do that again so you can take the picture or would you rather just keep it in your memory?”

Alex snapped out of his thoughts, swallowing loudly before nodding, “Please indulge me, darling.”

So she went back in, whimpering softly as she pushed two fingers back inside her and fucking herself for a few seconds. She drew her fingers back and brought them up to her mouth, wrapping her lips around them and sucking eagerly.

The shutter went off again, Alex felt himself twitching at the moans she let out at the taste. It made him crave it so he gently rested the camera next to him, so he could take some more pictures in case he managed to multitask, and hovered over her again.

Slowly, he leant in until his lips brushed hers, “Let me taste us.”

Ella stuck her tongue out for him, letting him lick at it but it wasn’t long before he sucked it. He groaned, pushing his hips forward, and pulled back for a deep breath before pouncing on her lips.

She moaned at the force of the kiss, her pebbled nipples rubbing on his chest, making her shiver in pleasure. His hold on her waist was tight, and he kept it there while he made his way down her body, leaving hot and messy kisses in his wake.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Ella asked, her body unable to not shake with every brush of his lips closer and closer to her sensitive cunt.

He smiled up at her, mischievous and devilish, “Loving on you.” A soft kiss on her clit had her legs clamping close around his head.

Alex laughed, using his hands to open her wide for him, pinning the thighs to the bed, but she trembled, as his breath fanned against her core, “Baby, I can’t.”

“Yes you can.” It wasn’t an encouragement, but an affirmation. If she didn’t remember that she was at his mercy now, then his words would remind her, “You’ll take it.”

She whimpered again when he flicked at her clit with his pointed tongue, pulling back to say, “I’m not moving. This is my favorite place.” He let his tongue run flat up her folds, drinking her in, “My favorite taste.”

With a tight grip, he fought her instinct to close her legs again, “And I’m not moving until my jaw aches and locks, remember?” She remembered then, those promises through the phone that had pushed her towards the edge when she was lonely and craving his touch.

He nosed at one of her thighs, bringing her back out from her head, “I want you to drench my face this time, so be a good girl and take it darling, yes?”

Ella could only nod, thinking that bearing the overstimulation would be far better than dealing with the need of him when he’s away from her. But what she didn’t account for was how eager he was to make her cum.

By the first orgasm, she felt entirely spent. Her body was shaking, and she had no idea how he had the strength to hold her legs open like he was because she had lost absolutely all control over her body.

Alex used his fingers and mouth next, not letting her ride her previous orgasm and just building up from it. Ella was being incredibly loud then, louder than she had ever been, but she wasn’t in her right mind to even be embarrassed by it.

He fucking adored how vocal she was being though, and he only grew more and more eager to get more and more out of her. With his fingers curling the right way, hitting that spongy spot inside her that had her seeing stars, Ella came once more. He pulled his fingers back, rubbing at her clit with quick circles that elicited the loudest calls of his name, ending with Ella drenching his face just like he had asked for.

His plan was to keep going but Ella had tears streaming down her face, exhaustion weighing her down, and overstimulation making her mind go haywire.

The ghostly touch of his tongue on her clit again made her loudly sob, her hands came down to his hair, clutching it and pulling him off her, and her broken voice managing a pathetic, “Can’t– Love, I can’t.” A sob racked through her, “No more, please.”

Alex’s mood entirely shifted, cooing at her as he crawled back up to lay next to her. He brushed her hair back and wiped the tears from her cheeks, “It’s okay, darling. I’ve got you, yeah?”

She nodded, tears still spilling for her eyes, chin wobbling as she tried to gather herself again.

“Let’s clean up, yeah?”

The aftercare was lovely, with Alex running a warm bath for her that he joined once he was done changing the sheets and putting the old ones to wash. He washed her hair and massaged her scalp, then carefully soaping her skin and rinsing her off the suds. Ella was limp against him, and Alex could see that sleep was grasping her tighter in its clutches, but before she could fully surrender to it, he helped her out of the tub and dry herself up.

He brushed her hair and dried both his and her hair quickly before carrying her back to bed. There was no point in putting their pyjamas on, they could cuddle under the sheets and be just as cosy so that’s what he did.

Ella woke up a little when they got under the covers, turning to look at Alex and run her fingers over his face. But what they hadn’t noticed with them being hidden away in his ensuite, was that the next door neighbor would be a little busy that night too.

Living next to her for far too long, Alex immediately recognized Alice’s moans. And Ella did too, after having elicited so many out of her with her tongue and fingers.

Alex turned to Ella with wide eyes, clearly hearing a male’s voice with Alice, “Oh wow.”

Ella shushed him, trying to figure out who it was. The noises were slightly muffled, but when they got louder, you could hear them clearly, and that’s when Ella realized it was Alice and George on the other side of the wall.

She couldn’t help but tease her boyfriend first though, “Bet you had the best jerk off session when Alice and I shagged. You’ve got some nice acoustics through the wall.”

Alex rolled his eyes, “Shut up,” pinching her waist and making her jump.

She giggled, “You’re not denying it though.”

The singer opted for staying silent and cuddling closer to her, he closed his eyes to try and fall asleep but it seemed like the night was still very young for the people on the flat nextdoor.

About ten more minutes passed, of them moaning at the same rate, no signs of any of them having cum yet and that had Ella gasping again, “Fucking hell, they’ve got stamina.”

That got a snort out of Alex, who opened his eyes to tell her, “Stop snooping and go to sleep.”

He watched as she indulged in his wishes, and so he followed. Alex was doing a great job of ignoring the noises for a while, but there was a particular moment when George groaned incredibly loud at the same time as Alice moaned in a high pitch that could not be ignored.

What Alex hadn’t been expecting was to feel Ella clenching her thighs which were wrapped around one of his legs. He opened his eyes just to find her wide awake and with her face all flushed, “You’re insatiable.”

“You are hearing the same as I am, tell me they don’t sound hot as fuck,” Ella defended herself quickly, but then she realized what she had said and scowled. She didn’t want to know if he found Alice’s moans hot when he had shagged her, “Actually, don’t answer.”

Alex scoffed at her words, “You’ve shagged both of them. If someone should be jealous, it’s me.” The worst part was that he could feel her against him, fighting the urge to roll her hips to rub her clit on his thigh, “You’re over here getting all wet over hearing them through the wall.”

She pouted, “Well then, maybe we should just go knock on the door.”

Decisively, Alex replied with a roll of his eyes, “We are not being part of a foursome.”

“But–,” she tried to reason but he didn’t let her.

“Eleanor Hayes,” he started and finished. She knew he meant that was it when he properly used her legal name. She felt scolded.

Against all odds, they heard the moans pick up again, making Ella let out a little cry of frustration. Ella was half joking by then, enjoying seeing Alex so aggravated by Alice and George’s history with her. But she wouldn’t change having Alex for the world, her heart did backflips in her chest every time she woke up next to him, whenever she felt his hold on her, every time she heard him call her darling; just existing with him made her heart leap in her chest.

And she was glad that her boyfriend shared the sentiment, “You are all mine now. Don’t expect me to want to share you with anyone else.” Alex’s eyes darkened as he reminded her, but it was Ella who attacked his lips with a hungry kiss.

She was exhausted, but she felt the need for him brewing in her lower belly. She sighed when she pulled back, deciding to satiate that hunger in the morning.

But she was annoyed that Alex was listening to sounds that could make him reminisce, “We’re switching your bed to the other side of the room tomorrow.” She scoffed at the stupidity of her boyfriend, all this time complaining about hearing Alice through the wall when that could be easily solved, “Can’t believe you’ve never thought of doing that, you idiot.”

When Alice moaned particularly loudly, and she felt Alex tense under her, Ella decided, “And I’m buying you earplugs.”

Alex grabbed a handful of Ella’s ass smirking against her mouth and letting her know, “I love it when you’re jealous,” before stealing another lustful kiss from her lips.

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

Time was truly cruel. Careless with how the distance would spread the heartache all the way to the ends of their limbs like venom coursing through their veins. It was in a blink of an eye that they had ended up with just a singular full day together, the hours they had on their side had all slipped like water through their fingers.

After having such an eventful Monday, they had decided to spend the day at Alex’s apartment in London. Cuddling all day and ordering takeout was the best plan they had, relishing in the quiet and the comfort of each other’s hold.

They wouldn’t even regret having spent the day like that, because it had been a day of just existing with the other. Laughing, eating, sleeping, fucking, hugging, talking about everything and anything, tenderly loving each other in the little things.

Wednesday was a different story. Alex had woken up a little earlier than the day before and kissed her before leaving bed. In her hazy mind, still riddled with sleep, Ella had managed to make out Alex speaking with someone on the phone.

She had thought she was dreaming for a second, until he walked back into the room and came to lie on top of her. She hummed in satisfaction at the feeling of his weight resting over her, something she just loved to be submitted to now.

But before she could think much about what he would do next, he nosed at the skin of her neck and spoke in that deliciously deep morning voice of his, “Darling, they want us to go on a meeting at Domino later today.”

Her brows furrowed, eyes still closed but confusion took over her entire expression. She groaned, before questioning, “Domino? Your record label?”

Alex almost cooed at her groggy voice, smiling like a fool when she brought her hands to her face to childishly rub her eyes as she yawned. He dropped a kiss on her chest, feeling the soft beating of her heart beneath his lips.

“Yes, baby. They want to chat with you, actually.”

If Ella had been more awake, she would have noticed that Alex wore a knowing look on his face. And if she had pushed hard enough, she would have found out what that was all about before even having to go to Domino headquarters all the way in Wandsworth.

On the way there, she was racking her brain trying to figure out why on earth her boyfriend’s label would even want to chat with her about. Was it the documentary? It couldn’t be, because that one had already been handed over to them, all set for release.

Alex squeezing her hand kept trying to get her out her head, but it was pointless. She’d had breakfast quietly next to him before getting ready, which she also did quietly.

She was so lost in her head that she hadn't even thought of asking her boyfriend if he knew anything. Alex was silently grateful for that—he just knew that he would have ruined the surprise if she were to question him about it.

And he truly would have regretted it, because the shock on Ella’s face was priceless after she and Ben—who was on the big screen of a conference room through Skype—were proposed to go on the South American tour with the Monkeys.

“South America?! Us?!”

Alex had chuckled at the sheer disbelief on Ella’s face and voice, as if she didn’t understand how well they had done with the AM documentary to the point that Domino wanted more content, this time while on the road.

The singer saw Ella pinching herself before grabbing the pen someone was holding out for her. He rubbed right over the red spot she had left behind as the ink sealed the deal between Ben, Ella, and Domino.

“We shall see how this one goes,” they had told her and Ben. “If we manage valuable content to elongate AM’s release and marketing campaign, we shall be looking at a longer contract with you two in the near future. Perhaps for the next projects we have with the Monkeys.”

A jaw dropped Ella had turned to Alex at the sound of all that, utterly shocked at what was happening.

Once Ben had faxed his own signed contract, hands had been shook and promises of further information had been made. Ella was still buzzing with adrenaline as she and Alex walked out into the London streets hand in hand.

“You know what this means right?” Ella mysteriously started saying as they walked.

“Mile high club,” Alex replied quickly, making his girlfriend erupt in a loud string of cackles.

She shook her head no, trying to breathe a little before saying, “Won’t be getting rid of me now, sweetness,” with the biggest smile on her face.

God did Alex love the sound of that. Her smile was contagious, spreading onto his face, but his toothy grin only got bigger when she added, “Though I wouldn’t be opposed to your idea at all.”

Surreal. That was how they would describe this domino effect that was turning their lives around in the best way. It meant that on that Wednesday, they wouldn’t only be celebrating the fact that they had already been dating for two months, but this new opportunity for her that kept her close to him.

After Ella left England, the Monkeys only had one more week of tour before a glorious almost two month break, one that Alex and Ella were incredibly excited about. They had so much time in their hands then, promised solely for them to enjoy each other.

And after that break, the band would only be on tour by themselves for another week before Ella was now due to join them for their South American leg of tour.

A bottle of champagne was popped open during dinner in celebration, Ella squealing as she watched the bubbles overflowing from the bottle; an erupting mess atop of a table on a fancy restaurant Alex had taken her to. Alex had acquired a new background picture for his phone as he captured her smile in a picture before leaving the place.

Ella looked so beautiful under the moonlight, red lipstick on, her hair cascading down her back in soft waves that he had watched her carefully do. He had taken his sweet time loving her that night, hands carefully roaming her body to learn every crease and curve, as if he needed to draw her blindfolded anytime soon. He made sure to memorise every change in her expression as he did everything he knew to help her come undone, every noise she made replaying on a beautifully maddening loop in his head.

Melancholy had creeped in the next morning, when they saw the clock and realized they only had a few hours before leaving for the airport. Los Angeles called Ella’s name louder and louder, across oceans, while she tried to steal some more time with Alex.

It was not much, but it would have to be enough. Enough for the next week before they could have each other back, their sweet traditions, and rid themselves of the burden distance was.

They packed their last things at the same time, since Alex and the band’s flight was leaving about an hour or two after Ella’s. It was Alex’s turn now to watch her go; he would be a massive liar if he said his heart didn’t break as he watched her scan her ticket and start walking toward the bridge.

His slipper-clad feet took a step, in his head a debate whether he should just dash it and make it behind the desk to give her one last kiss. But she stopped at the threshold of the bridge, a smile on her face riddled with sorrow, teary eyes, wobbly chin as she waved back.

He knew he would cause a ruckus if he were to do what was going through his head, so he did the next best thing. Blew her a kiss that was already hanging off his lips, her name written all over it.

She made a show of catching it, a giggle escaping her as she smashed it on her lips. His chest rumbled with joy, a chuckle coming from him when feeling so oddly complete even when saying goodbye.

Finally, she turned around and disappeared behind the open door to the bridge. And he hadn’t noticed he had been holding back tears until he tasted the salty trail reach the corner of his mouth.

Love consumed him entirely, a rabble of butterflies swarming his stomach and tickling his insides to the point of silent giggles. He had lost it entirely, all the logic and sense left in him, but how could he not? And how could he not enjoy it?

Everyone could see it, and he wore it loud and proud. Alex was an utter and complete fool for her. A mad man entirely drunk in love.

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A/N: Once again, I wanted to thank you all for still reading. I'm eager to hear your thoughts. I missed you all loads and I hope you know that. After this one, we just have one more chapter and the epilogue left, and then we will have to say goodbye to Ella and Alex. I'm a bit depressed about it but I will definitely be putting out some extras eventually. You know, the typical cheesy stuff like them getting engaged, married, starting a family, all the good stuff. But let me not get ahead of myself, and let's enjoy the end of this ride. Take care you lot, I shall see you soon!

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