#Everyone from Vinyl City

[skippybal09]

BOOM new sprites!

I finally got to making actual sprites for my OCs.

(from the top, left to right)

TR, Jenny, Jimmy, Geoff, Hyde, Jekkuh, Scooter, Skippy, Trevor, Derek, Waffles, Cynth, Carmen, Kandi, Trixxy, Vinelle, Angel, and Damien! I'll make intro posts for each of them eventually. (I already did Geoff and Jimmy's as of typing this.)

[lovelettersfromluna]

The Summoning

summary: so now you’re fucking your roommate on the regular, what could possibly go wrong? It’s just for the camera, right?

an: You guys!! I’m so so happy with the feedback if received for the first chapter of this fic, I want to give you guys as much camgirl!Ellie as I possibly can. So, as before, let’s keep this short and sweet so we can get into it, love you so so so much (also shout out to everyone’s comments and asks on what they wanted to see for this chapter! Yoi all helped me sm! You all know who you are hehe)

warnings: smut!! 18+, MDNI, camgirl!ellie, roommate!ellie, biker!Ellie (there’s lots of tropes in this one lol), JELOUS!ELLIE, mentions of an older woman but it’s so brief, mentions of alternate love interest, face sitting, fingering, filming of intercourse, use of strap, mentions of the word cock, ANGST!, slight fluff??, lmk if I missed anything!

You can read part 1 here!, and part 3 here!

A soft puff of air blew past your lips as you finished organizing the last shelf of records, your eyes looking down at the remainder vinyls that most definitely wouldn’t fit into any of the space you had.

God you hated the holidays.

Well you didn’t, you loved the colder months. It was so cozy, and welcoming, however you hated it as a retail worker. With the changing of the seasons came your manager with boxes of new vintage records that he explained were in high demand for the customers coming in and out of the city, all of which you had to change out and organize from the last collection you’d had for the summer time.

So the holidays were fine, just not when you were working.

Not to mention, the only thing plaguing your mind these days was a specific brunette who had quite the tongue on her.

After that night, Ellie had you rewatch the video, making sure you were okay with it, and it was okay to post. It was weird, because you’d never really seen yourself that way. You never moan too loud, or put on too much of a show during sex, it just was what it was, and it wasn’t ever really done with an audience in mind. But seeing yourself in Ellie’s lap, her strong hands running up and down your body, working on your pussy like a fucking pro, you had to admit.

You looked damn fucking good on camera.

And you weren’t the only one that thought so. After you gave Ellie the okay to post and edit the video, the response was amazing. Gone where the comments asking where Ellie’s usually girl was, missing the chemistry they had, her whiny moans and pretty body, all of which were replaced by a sea of comments and donations coming in, all on your behalf. They asked Ellie to please keep you around, putting in suggestions of what they wanted to see next, what they wanted to see her do to you, next.

Ellie wasn’t wrong, the crowd fucking loved you.

So? You filmed another video. And another, and another, and another, until you and Ellie had created nearly an entire box set of home movies for her adoring fans, all of which had become your adoring fans practically over night.

And fuck, did Ellie know what she was doing.

Sure, you’d had your fair share of good sex in the past. Your ex was pretty good with her hands, and there was that one girl you were seeing for a few months, she was okay with her strap.

But Ellie? Jesus Christ, you quickly caught onto why Julia acted the way she did after Ellie was done with her.

It was all you could think about, the way that Ellie treated your body when you were filming. The way she never failed to pay attention to every part of you before herself, the way she kissed you, the way her hands ran down your body, the way she simply knew how to pleasure a woman.

And it wasn’t like there was any real harm in any of it, right? In helping your roommate with her line of work? That’s what it was after all. You helped Ellie make her content, and she fucked you until you could barely think straight.

In simpler terms, Ellie knew how to fuck, and she knew how to fuck good. Filming with her only further proved that.

Your eyes scanned the record store once more, a stack of records in your hands as you tried looking for another place where these god forsaken vinyls could go. You were close to simply shoving them underneath the cash register, calling it a night and going home before the drunk tourists eager to visit the city got in your way of getting to your bus stop.

You spotted a spot on top of one of the shelves, which made you huff softly in annoyance. You usually avoided it since you couldn’t reach it, vowing to never put yourself out of your way for a bunch of records no one will want to buy, but there weren’t many and you figured you already had them out, so might as well finish what you started.

As you struggled to push the records up into the tall shelf, you heard the little ding at the front door of your shop over the soft music that you had playing. You couldn’t even bother to turn around, knowing it was most definitely some drunk idiot trying to buy a last minute gift for someone.

“Sorry…we’re…fuck…we’re closed” you huffed out as you struggled even further, the tips of your fingers finally pushing one of the records up and sliding it into place. You didn’t even realize you didn’t hear the usual apology paired with the bell ringing again, signaling that the person had left.

It wasn’t until you felt a hand push into the sliver of skin that was slightly exposed between your jeans and your top, making you shriek loudly and recoil from the persons touch. Once you turned around, you were prepared to smash the stack of records you had over the idiots head who thought it was okay to come in and touch random girls while they worked.

But you only came face to face with those gorgeous green eyes that you seemed to constantly see, even when she wasn’t around.

You let out a soft gasp, reaching forward and landing a not so friendly punch on her leather clad arms, a soft huff leaving your lips as you watched your roommate snort softly at you, trying to stifle a laugh.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Ellie?? I could’ve dropped these” you whine, looking down at the disheveled records before you turned around, going back to trying to pushing them back into their spot.

Ellie sighed softly as she came down from her laughing fit, setting her helmet down on the row of records next to her as she leaned against it. “Shouldn’t you be locking the door once you’re closed? Sounds like a safety hazard to me” she hummed out, clearly trying to get under your skin.

You could practically hear that stupid fucking smirk on her lips, which makes you roll your eyes, even if she was right.

“I had a customer before I started putting these away…I’ll lock up once I’m finished” you explained, still struggling with the second record you had, which makes Ellie chuckle softly.

She pushed herself off of the row she was leaned up against before she stood behind you, her chest pressing against your back, one of her hands resting on your hip, giving it a gentle squeeze, before she reached up with ease and pushed the record in with ease.

You let out a soft huff softly, looking down at her hand on your waist before you turn around, looking up at her and narrowing your eyes at the girl. “Is that really necessary?” You question as you gesture to her hand, which only makes her shrug before bringing her hand down and giving your ass a firm squeeze, “not at all. Gimme those and go grab your stuff, I’m taking you home” she explained before she promptly took the records and put them away on the shelf for you.

You simply stare at her in disbelief, watching as she put away the records with ease. She looked over at you, nodding her head towards the back where she knew you kept your stuff while you were working. “Go on. I don’t wanna get stuck in traffic” she explained, which makes you roll your eyes at her before you stomp off to go and grab your things.

Damn her for being so fucking hot.

Soon, you had your jacket on and your bag was slung over your shoulder. When you walked out to the store front to shut off the lights and the music, Ellie was scrolling through her phone, leaned up against the cashier, seemingly waiting for you. She gave you a soft smile when she noticed you were there, pushing her phone into her pocket. “Ready?” She asked, moving to grab her helmet.

You nodded, returning the soft smile before you grabbed the keys, nodding your head towards the door. “Ready” you confirm.

She followed behind you, waiting for you as you locked up the store before leading her out.

You shivered slightly when you both step out into the cold air, watching as the lights of the city illuminate the street, welcoming everyone who was in need of a night out. You just wanted to get home.

You watched as Ellie walked in front of you, setting her helmet down before she opened up her seat to grab her spare and handing it to you before she put hers on and swung her leg over her bike to get on.

Usually, Ellie didn’t pick you up from work. She was most likely busy filming with Julia, finishing up far too late to meet you at work. Sometimes, she’d be in the area and she’d pick you up, but that wasn’t something that happened quite often for you two.

But, ever since you took Julia’s place, Ellie had been picking you up a lot more often.

You took the helmet from her, putting it on your head before you got onto Ellie’s bike, wrapping your arms around her waist and resting your head along her leather clad back. You heard a soft chuckle muffled by her helmet, her head turning to the side a bit as she felt you cuddle into her from behind.

"Don't need to tell you to hold on tight, do I?" She teased, which earns a soft pinch to her side from you.

Before you know it, Ellie is turning on the engine to her bike, revving it a bit, and you two are speeding down the streets of the city towards your apartment.

The feeling of the cold breeze kissing your exposed skin as Ellie drove you both down the streets made your blood pump. It was fucking stupid, but drives home with her had a way of truly making you feel alive for a bit.

You’d never tell her that, though. It would blow her head up way too much.

Ellie had a tendency to show off in many aspects of her life. One of those manifested whenever she was on her bike. She’d rev her engine when she saw a group of pretty girls, tattooed hands gripping the handles of her bike as she watched them swoon over her. She’d get a kick out of it whenever they’d squeal over her, trying their best to call her back, an attempt at trying to get her to turn around and give them more attention.

You thought it was stupid. It was just Ellie on a bike after all.

Ellie stopped once she reached a red light, her back straightening out a bit as she rested one of her hands on her thighs, patting a mindlessly rhythm into her jean clad leg as she waited for it to turn green so you could both get moving again. Your hands loosened a bit on her waist as you waited as well.

You noticed from the corner of your eye a car pulling up next to you. It’s a sleek black 1969 dodge charger, the lights of the city bouncing off of the shiny paint. It isn’t too flashy, but enough so that anyone can appreciate. You can’t help but gawk a bit at the beautiful car, not at all noticing the window slowly rolling down.

You hear a whistle, which catches both yours and Ellie’s attention. In the car, is an older woman. You took not of her features, noticing how pretty she was, long hair tucked up into a bun, body adorned in what you could only assume was an expensive suit. You notice her lips tugged beneath her teeth as her dark eyes bore holes into your direction, and you can only assume she’s gawking at Ellie, as one usually does when she’s out on her bike. As you look closer, you realize she isn’t looking at Ellie.

She’s looking at you.

And you can’t even deny that your chest doesn’t warm up, because she’s clearly extremely beautiful. Her strong, ring clad hands gripping the steering wheel as her eyes travel down your body. You didn’t think that when you tugged on your favorite pair of jeans and your old brown jacket that same morning that you’d be getting attention from anyone, let alone from a fucking rich milf in the middle of the road.

But you aren’t the only one to notice, because you feel Ellie shift forward, her own hands going back to grip the handle bars of her bike, her head never leaving the direction of the woman who’s shamelessly undressing you with her eyes. You gasp softly underneath your own helmet when the feeling of Ellie revving her bike catches you off guard, ripping you away from the trance the woman has you in. You turn your head to look at Ellie, hands tightening a bit around her waist to prepare your take off.

But Ellie’s head never leaves the woman.

This catches the woman’s attention, and she merely chuckles softly before she sticks her hand out her window and gives Ellie a slight wave, as if to silently tell her she’d back off. The light turns green, and while you think that’s the end of it, you catch a glimpse of the woman sending a wink your way before she zooms off, which prompts Ellie to do soon after, just as fast, knuckles turning white as she gripped her handle bars.

If you weren’t holding on tight enough to Ellie, you’d probably have gone flying.

When you both get home, you decide not to question the very bizarre interaction you both had with that woman, figuring it was just Ellie being Ellie, and there wasn’t really anything to it anyways.

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

It makes it even stranger that when you both walk through the door, Ellie doesn’t show a single sign of annoyance, which makes you feel like you’re hallucinating even more than you were before. She’s walking into the apartment, tugging off her jacket and tossing it on a nearby chair, and grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge before plopping down onto the couch.

So yeah, you’re probably just tired.

You let out a soft hum as you tug off your own jacket before hanging it up, grabbing Ellie’s and hanging it up as well. She had a bad habit of shedding her layers off as soon as she got through the door.

You stand before Ellie in the living room, her legs spread as she babysits a bottle of water, eyes never leaving yours. You watch as she pats her lap quietly, which forces you to give her a look of disbelief.

Usually, you’d have a witty remark for that sort of gesture from Ellie, which would often times be paired with a pillow to her face. But there’s simply something about the way her legs are spread out on the couch, looking so fucking inviting, that makes you quietly follow her orders, and straddle her lap.

Now, most intimacy was supposed to be saved for the camera, it was an unspoken rule of filming with Ellie, or it was a rule you set for yourself. Apart from warming up before filming, letting Ellie get you nice and wet for her before you got on camera with her, there wasn’t really a reason to have any sort of intimacy with her. Things were supposed to go back to normal when you weren’t on camera, back to how things were as roommates.

But, you’d be lying if you said that’s how it was. You and Ellie had always had an affectionate relationship, one that never went without cuddling, caressing, even crashing in your bed from time to time when she couldn’t sleep. You were no stranger to Ellie’s strong hands on your body, because that was just Ellie. She had a thing for gripping and groping, always wanting her hands to be occupied with something whenever you were near, you assumed that’s how she was with everyone.

There just seemed to be something about getting regularly fucked by Ellie that made the intimacy take a different level, a different course that made things feel…different.

And of course, there’s no harm in that. You watched Ellie kiss Julia goodnight every time she left the house, always taking an extra few minutes to hold her when they were done. If they could do it, why couldn’t you two do it?

Ellie let out a soft hum of approval when you straddled her lap, disregarding the water bottle so that both her hands were free to grip your hips, pulling you closer to her. Your hands went around her neck, toying with the hair at the nape of her neck as she pressed her face against your neck, giving your skin a deep inhale.

“Missed you today…” she mumbled softly against your skin, which makes you roll your eyes playfully, yet still keeping her close. “You saw me this morning before I left” you argue softly, which only earns a soft whine from Ellie, you can feel her lips form a pout against your throat before she presses soft kisses to it.

“So? Still missed you” she explained, her voice low as she spoke. You can’t help but giggle softly, staring down at the girl as she litters your throat with soft kisses.

But this feels way too fucking intimate, even for you and Ellie.

You clear your throat, tugging her hair back a bit to force her to look at you, which makes Ellie groan softly, half in annoyance, and half in pleasure. She loved it whenever you did what you wanted with her.

“We filming tonight?” You ask quickly, a sorry attempt at trying to interrupt this soppy little scene you and her are having.

You see a flash of something ripple through Ellie’s green eyes, something you can’t quite put your finger on, because she’s changing her expression much too quickly, giving you and eager nod as her hands go from gently caressing you, to gripping your ass tightly. This makes you whine softly in her lap.

“Eager to have me…aren’t you baby” she chuckles softly, the shift in her personality clear as her eyes quickly darken with lust. You swallow nervously, always feeling small in front of Ellie whenever she looked at you that way. You feel the way she slowly begins grinding your hips down into her lap, strong hands gripping you and moving you as she pleased. You can only nod, your lips forming a gentle pout before a gentle sigh leaves them.

“Always…” you moan out softly, which makes her smirk up at you proudly. You’d gotten so good at voicing what you wanted these past few weeks, it made warmth pool at Ellie’s core.

She gives your ass a firm spank before she nodded her head towards her room. “Go get the camera, baby” she ordered gently, that delicious tone of dominance lacing her words, you quickly followed her instructions, getting up from her lap and going to her room to get the equipment.

That was another thing, with your new presence in Ellie’s work, came a change of scenery in her videos.

Ellie usually kept her videos and streams exclusive to her bedroom, having the common courtesy to not fuck all over your shared apartment. But now that it was just you two, there was a new sense of freedom when it came to filming with you. It happened one day when Ellie was finger fucking your pussy on the couch, and had the bright idea to grab her camera, because it was just too fucking good to not hit record on.

Once again, another example of intimacy outside of filming.

You returned with all of the filming equipment, never knowing what Ellie had planned for a shoot, so instead opting to bring everything so she could choose from.

Ellie smirks softly as she sits up from her spot on the couch, eyes low and filled with lush as you walk back into the living room. You lift up her camera and her tripod, a confused frown on your lips as you look between the two. “M’not sure what you wanted to film, so I brought both. I can always go back and-“ she’s quickly cutting you off, standing up from the couch and slowly making her way to you before she takes both out of your hands gently, and sets them down on your coffee table.

“We can focus on that, later…I need to make sure you’re ready..” she purred out, making you swallow back a whimper.

Her hands go down to yours, gently gripping your arms before she pushes them to rest around her neck, her own hands wrapping around your waist and pulling you flush to her body.

‘Making sure you were ready’ was just Ellie’s way of saying she wanted a moment with you off camera.

You simply give her a nod, your head already tilting forward as you lean in to press a kiss to her soft lips. Ellie groans in approval, her head tilting to the side a bit as soon as you were pressed against her, deepening the kiss. Her nimble fingers slide down to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze while also using the leverage to pull you closer, pressing your chest firmly against hers. This make you gasp, and as always, she uses that opportunity to slip her tongue into your mouth.

Ellie smirks into the kiss, her tongue exploring your mouth as her hands massage your ass through your jeans.

“Been needy for me, baby? I’ve been needy for you…” she confessed between the feverish kiss. It was slow, and dirty, and so fucking erotic, it had your panties soaked already.

All you could do was nod, desperately pushing your lips back against hers as you tugged at her shirt. “Thought about you all day…” you said mindlessly, which makes Ellie chuckle softly against you.

“Yeah? God…me fuckin too…kept thinking about your pretty cunt all day…fucked my self so many times to the thought of you…” she groaned out. Her words make you moan a bit louder.

You’re so fucked out already, that you can barely register what it is that she just confessed to you.

Ellie hums softly as she breaks the kiss, looking down at you as you stare up at her with lust filled eyes and a needy pout. She tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, her own swollen lip tugged between her teeth.

“Bet you loved when that woman was staring at you…didn’t you.”

This catches you off guard.

Your eyes widen a bit, shocked over the fact that Ellie was even bringing it up to you, especially when all you wanted was her hands on your cunt, not the image of another woman in your head.

You don’t know why, but your first response is to quickly shake your head.

“What? She wasn’t…I didn’t notice her staring” you try, eyes wide like a deer caught in the headlights. Ellie chuckles softly as she watches you, catching your chin between her thumb and pointer finger as she angles your face up a bit more to stare up at her.

“It’s okay baby…she was very pretty…” she agreed, giving a slow nod before she clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, head cocking to the side in a teasing manner before she hummed out softly.

“You think she could make you feel as good as I do?” She questioned, blown out pupils surrounded by a sliver of green staring down into your own.

And again, you’re quickly shaking your head, because you know for a fact that there is probably only a handful of people on this planet that can fuck you as good as Ellie can, and that’s being generous to the general population. Ellie fucks good, and anyone who gets to experience that is fucking lucky.

They’re also ruined for anyone else who comes after her.

“Fuck…you know no one can…come on El…need you so bad…” you whine softly, giving Ellie a whiny little pout as you tug at her shirt further, feeling like you’ll explode if you don’t have her hands on you in the next few seconds. Ellie simply chuckles, watching as you whine and pout for her, a sorry attempt at trying to find your way out of the conversation.

“You’re damn right they can’t…such a good girl…” she praises, which makes you whine softly.

Ellie hums softly as she stares down at your body, giving your waist a gentle tap. “Stay here.” She ordered softly before she moved over to set up the camera.

You watch as she sets up the tripod, making it level with the couch, low enough so that it stops right where the back of the couch ends, so that it doesn’t catch your kitchen in the background. She turns it on before she goes behind it, bending down a bit to make sure the angle is good before she nods to herself before she moved to sit down on the couch much like she was earlier, legs spread wide, her dark jeans stretching over her toned thighs. Her arms stretched along the back of the couch, dark eyes boring holes as she watched you.

“Strip” she ordered.

Fuck.

You immediately began slowly stripping for her. Staring with your t shirt, then with your jeans, leaving you in your bra and panties for a moment before you removed those as well, until you were fully naked in front of Ellie, her eyes eating you up like a hungry animal.

“So fuckin pretty…Jesus…” she groaned softly underneath her breath, letting you simply stand there, naked for her, under the dim lighting of your cozy living room.

After a moment passed, she nodded her head towards the camera. “Start recording, and then come over here.” She instructed once again, and she didn’t need to tell you twice.

You slowly walked over to the camera. On the screen, you could see Ellie on the camera, only her body visible, looking so fucking strong and confident. You knew from the angle of the camera alone, that Ellie’s viewers were in for a treat with this one.

And so were you.

When you hit record, you made your way over to Ellie slowly. She hummed softly, eyes staring up at you as you stood over her before she looked down at her lap, as if silently telling you to take a seat. You straddled her lap, the rough material of her jeans on your naked body making you hiss softly.

Ellie hummed, her large hands roaming your body the second you were on her lap. “Fuck…look at you baby..came home to all this?” Her words make you frown in confusion for only a moment, yet you quickly catch onto the fantasy that she’s trying to sell to her viewers.

You give a soft giggle, nodding as you lean in to press a soft kiss to her temple. “Missed you so much…wanted to surprise you..” you purr out softly, a soft whine leaving your lips once Ellie began to slowly grind you down on her lap as she was earlier, yet this time it makes you huff softly, the rough material of her jeans dragging along your sensitive core.

“Aren’t I lucky…coming home to my pretty girl like this…fuck…you’ve been on my mind all fucking day…” she groaned out, her eyebrows furrowing as she looked down at your naked body, a soft hiss leaving her lips as she let her hand come in between you both, catching your slippery clit against her thumb. She watches your facial expression change, a soft moan leaving your lips as you rest your hands on either one of her shoulders, looking down at her hand toying with you.

“So wet already…stand up for me baby” she hummed out softly as she gave your hip a gentle pat. You listened, standing up from her lap, which allowed her to lay down onto the couch, one of her knees bent up as the other leg laid down. She gestured you over to her.

“Come sit on my face princess” she ordered.

Her words alone made you whine, and you wasted no time straddled her face, either side of your legs shielding her face from the camera.

As soon as you were settled, her tongue was out, inviting you down to take a seat as you rested a bit of your wait onto it, your pussy pressing against the warm muscle. You moan out loudly, back arching as you slowly began rocking your hips back and forth on Ellie’s flattened tongue.

The apartment was soon filled with the sounds of your moans, and Ellie’s tongue lapping away at your soaked cunt. It was times like this that Ellie had to depend on you to carry out the vocals, seeing as her mouth was a bit…occupied.

“F-feels so good…missed you so much today…” you moan out shyly, testing the waters with your voice a bit. Ellie groaned below you, her own hips bucking upwards, grinding into nothing as she gave you a quiet gesture to keep going.

You whined, giving her a slow nod as you kept going.

“You look so pretty…fuck…I love your tongue so much…” you moan out again, which earns another moan from Ellie, sending vibrations onto your sopping cunt. You moan loudly again, one of her hands coming up from around your thigh, to snake up your body and toy with your boobs, massaging the skin, pinching your nipples, her hips still bucking up into nothing with need.

You notice, turning around a bit and catching the way her hips bucked up with need. You whimper softly, reaching a hand behind you to undo her jeans before you push them down her pants, her own clit throbbing against your fingers as you begin rubbing her, watching as her eyes roll back when you begin doing this.

“Feels good? Fuck…you’re so fucking wet…fuuuckk…wanna…wanna cum with you…please” you practically beg, your arm already becoming sore from the uncomfortable position, yet you still paid the upmost attention to her poor needy pussy.

Ellie always prioritized your pleasure, it was time you do the same.

Ellie moaned and groaned against your pussy, her tongue speeding up the closer she got, her pussy grinding into your fingers desperately. You arched your back, eyebrows furrowed as you let your head fall back, the pleasure becoming too much.

You knew she was close, the grip on your thighs was almost deadly, and you were too. It wasn’t long before her hips were sputtering, her arousal soaking your fingers as she came. This alone was enough to make you shriek with pleasure, nearly falling back as your arm nearly gave out from behind you, but Ellie’s strong arms were already on your hips to keep you up, pulling you further up as she lapped at your core, helping you ride out your orgasm.

The thing you hated about filming with Ellie the most? You couldn’t even scream her name when she made you cum.

You breathed hard, your exhausted pussy shying away from Ellie’s tongue as you stared down at her, body back in its upright position, her gorgeous green eyes staring up at yours, cheeks red as she gave your pussy kitty licks.

“You should stay out late more often..” you tease, which earns a soft giggle from both of you.

Ellie gives your pussy one last kiss before she pushes you down her body so you’re straddling her waist, her eyes low and hazy as she stares up at you, gently massaging the skin of your thighs.

You always enjoyed the aftermath with her, the silence that came with it, the come down was almost as good as the sex itself. You were both so fucked out, so utterly satisfied, the warmth that overtook you was almost unbearable. You could stay there forever if you truly wanted to.

But alas, it never lasted long enough.

You felt the familiar tap on your thighs, a silent reminder that Ellie had to indeed get up and stop the camera recording. You roll off of her with wobbly thighs, cuddling into the couch and grabbing a nearby blanket to shield your body from the cold air of your apartment.

You watch with sleepy eyes as Ellie gets up, buttoning up her jeans and turning off the camera before pulling it front the tripod to look back at the footage, making sure it was all recorded correctly.

You hear your moans echoing from the device, which makes you whine softly. You always hated hearing yourself, no matter how hot you and Ellie looked. Ellie chuckles softly, shaking her head as she watched the video for a moment longer before she shut off the camera.

“That improv of yours was pretty damn good…they’re gonna like that” she added, making you giggle softly before giving her a shrug. “I always like playing with your pussy” your words make Ellie groan, and she’s suddenly giving you a look of warning, a smirk playing on her lips to match.

“Don’t play with something you can’t handle sweetheart” she warned you, and you can’t help but roll your eyes, despite the fire you feel from that look alone.

“Please, you wouldn’t know how to fuck me even if you had the chance” you challenge her.

Oh yeah, that was another thing. Ellie still hadn’t properly fucked you yet.

You huffed softly as you tugged yet another top off of your body. You’d tried on nearly every article of clothing you had in your closet, yet it just wasn’t fucking working. It was times like this, that you simply wanted to burn all of your clothes and never leave your house again.

You were currently getting ready for a date, a girl you’d met at the record store had ended up asking you out on a date while you were showing her to the new age rock section that the store carried.

The first thing that went through your mind when the girl asked, wasn’t how pretty she was, or how nice her fingers looked wrapped around the edge of the thin vinyls in her hand.

No, none of that went through your head. The only thing that went through your head when the girl asked you out was Ellie.

And that scared you.

Because it’s Ellie for gods sake. The girl you’ve been living with for almost three years now, the girl who you watched eat dry cereal from the box instead of making herself a proper meal, the girl who you’ve watched genuinely find family guy funny…

The girl who’d been playing your body like a fucking guitar for almost a month now.

You realized, you needed this date.

So you agreed, giving the girl your number and telling her to text you so you guys could set up a date.

The guilt was eating you alive, because while Ellie would be fucking you with a dildo, her lips firmly on yours, you knew in the back of your head you had a girl waiting to see you at the end of the week.

And it was conflicting because did you even have to tell Ellie? Would it be stupid if you did? Would it be wrong if you didn’t? It was still just Ellie, after all. Sure, she’d seen you naked now, and she’d made you cum more times than you could count, and you her, but she was still your friend. She was still your normal roommate, your Ellie. And there was nothing really holding you back from going on dates.

Right?

You chalked up all your guilt by convincing yourself that Ellie was probably talking to other girls too, actively searching for a girlfriend, or even a permanent filming partner while you temporarily filled that spot.

Because while you guys never formally spoke about it, that’s all you were, temporary.

It worked out perfectly, because Ellie had gone out for the night, texting you and telling you she had some stuff to do, errands to run. It gave you the place all to yourself to get ready. You would’ve felt extremely stupid sneaking out of your own apartment to avoid any awkward interactions with Ellie. Even though you weren’t even sure if it would even be awkward.

You ended up settling on a little black dress, a pair of black boots and a leather bomber jacket, an outfit you had long since ran dry with how many times you wore, but you looked good, and you weren’t going to to stray away from that.

You fluffed out your hair after you finished up your makeup, spraying on your favorite perfume before you grabbed your phone, sending record store girl a quick text, letting her know that you’d be leaving your house now to meet her at the bar that you two had agreed on going to for your first date.

You couldn’t ignore the sour taste in your mouth, and the aching feeling in your belly as you looked around your room, making your final rounds before you left. There was something about the entire ordeal that just felt…dirty. The fact that you were sneaking around, hiding something that you felt needed to be hidden…

Leaving Ellie for the night.

All of it made you feel ill, and the fact that you felt that way made you feel even worse.

But regardless of it all, Ellie was out and it was all in your head. Ellie probably wouldn’t even care if you went out with a girl! She’d be happy for you, she’d send you out of the apartment with an encouraging slap on your ass before telling you to wrap it up before you-

Suddenly, you could hear Ellie opening up the door from the other side of your apartment door. You feel like you’ll freeze up and die in that very moment.

She walks into the house humming a tune you can’t quite find, probably some song that had been stuck in her head. She has her helmet tucked under her arm, and a brown paper bag with the logo of your favorite take out spot slung along her long fingers. She doesn’t notice you at first, because she’s too busy cursing under her breath as she tries to get herself inside, a low groan leaving her lips a she tosses her keys into the entrance bowl, kicking the door shut behind her.

“Babe? You home? I brought dinner” she calls out.

You feel sick to your fucking stomach.

Because it feels too domestic, too romantic, too fucking far for you and Ellie for her to be calling out for you that way, to be ordering your favorite dinner and bringing it home for you. You aren’t even entirely sure what prompted her to do this, and you don’t know who you’re more annoyed with, her for doing it, or you for not being honest with her.

You’re too caught up in your thoughts, because you barely realize that Ellie’s eyes are finally on yours, a confused frown as she stares at you up and down, clearly readying yourself to leave the apartment.

“You…look so pretty. Are we going somewhere?” She questions slowly, her sentence slipping into a tone of worry, as if she’d forgotten about something that you planned for the both of you, her big green eyes frantically searching yours.

You can’t fucking do this anymore.

You inhale deeply, shaking your head as you clear your throat, your fingers tugging at the bottom of your dress as you try to find your voice, find your words to break it to Ellie.

“I um….I have a date tonight” you mumble out softly, barely loud enough for Ellie to hear, hoping that she doesn’t and some miracle snatches this ridiculous conversation away so you don’t have to experience it.

But she does hear you.

Her face goes from worried to annoyed almost instantly, her brows knitted together as her lips form a confused frown. “A date? With who?” She spits out, and the tone is too accusing for you. It makes you wince slightly, your lips forming a frown of your own as you let out a soft sigh.

“Girl I met at the record store” you sigh out, and you hate this, because it feels so far from what you and Ellie are. It feels to reminiscent of a jealous girlfriend cornering you, confused as to why you’d ever leave her when she was there waiting for you, why on earth would you pass her up for anyone else when she gives you everything anyways?

The energy you can feel radiating off of Ellie is the same thing you felt when that woman was looking at you on the road. It feels hostile, and possessive, it feels like she has some claim on you that you aren’t even fully aware of, and it’s the reason you decided to go on the date in the first place, because regardless of not fully knowing what it is that’s happened between you and Ellie.

You know it isn’t good.

Ellie moves to drop the food onto the coffee table, a bit too harshly in your opinion. Her strong hand goes up to run through her brown hair, one hand on her hip as she stares at the floor for a moment. You should’ve just taken that as an opportunity to leave, to avoid all of this. But you don’t.

“It’s…it’s Friday night. We’re supposed to film. We film every Friday” she argues.

Fuck.

You chew your maroon tinted bottom lip, feeling like a kid who’s done something bad and is now facing the repercussions of a disappointed parent. You feel small, and stupid, and you can’t believe you forgot about it. There had been such a blur between the schedule you had with Ellie, with far too many moments of making out with her on the couch, or her fingers finding their way into your pants whenever you were watching a movie together, that the intimacy in your brain was becoming confused with the intimacy that was needed for the camera and the camera only.

And in that moment, you realize that this needs to end.

Because maybe you and Ellie can go back to normal, maybe you can forget about this and she can find someone who is better at this stuff than you are. It’s too confusing, and it’s putting you in a bad position of thinking too deep into things while also missing the bigger picture, and you’re fucking exhausted.

You inhale deeply, opening your mouth to speak, to tell her that this isn’t what you want anymore, that this isn’t for you anymore. You have it all mapped out, how you’re going to finally tell her that this simply can’t go on anymore.

But suddenly, your phone goes off.

You frown, looking down at the glowing device in your hands. It’s a text from record store girl, she’s telling you how she just left her house, and how excited she is to see you tonight. This catches Ellie’s attention too.

She looks down at your phone, her angry and annoyed expression still present on her face.

“Is that her?” She asks. You let out a soft sigh, shaking your head as you try pushing your phone in your jacket pocket. “Ellie I…when I get back I really think we should talk about-“ she quickly cuts you off, her voice a bit louder than it was when she first asked.

“I said…is that her?” Her words are slower, clearer, as if she wants you to hear every goddamn syllable that leaves her mouth. You know she isn’t fucking around, and you simply inhale deeply, taking your phone out of your pocket and looking at the message that was still lingering at the bottom of your Lock Screen.

“Yeah…it is….” You admit, ignoring how fucking stupid you feel for telling Ellie this. You should have left, you should have ignored her and gone on your date and had a good time so you could come home and tell her that she needed to find a new filming partner, because you weren’t cut out for this shit anymore.

She begins taking slow strides towards you, the closer she gets, the more you can smell her cologne. It makes you swallow back a whine, because her scent is the single most euphoric thing to you right now. It haunts you in your sleep, and it makes your mouth water whenever she’s on top of you.

Soon, she’s right in front of you, her green eyes staring down at your outfit, taking in everything that you have on, how pretty your hair and makeup is. Her slender fingers come up to tug at your jacket slightly, a soft puff of air exiting her nose before she speaks. “What’d she tell you? That she’s on her way? So excited to see you?” She questions, her voice low and taunting as her nimble fingers dance along your jacket, ghosting along the fabric of your dress.

“Fuckin idiot…she’s on her way to some shitty bar and I’ve got her girl practically shaking for me..” she hummed out softly.

And it was true. Ellie had hardly touched you, yet your fists were balled at your side, body practically begging for her as her skilled fingers barely gave you what you wanted. The second she was in front of you, your brain was clouded with her, with all the things you wanted from her, all the things you knew she could do to you.

“Had so much planned for us tonight, baby…wanted to finally show you off live..wanted to take care of that pretty body of yours…and you were getting all dolled up for some asshole who probably wouldn’t know how to make you cum even if she got the chance” she explains, her voice low, minty breath fanning across your face, making you whine softly.

“You’ve never dress like this for me before…” she groans out, and it makes your eyes widen a bit. Before you can open your mouth and say anything back, her skinny fingers are grabbing your chin and angling your face up to fully look at her, her green eyes staring down into yours as she licked her bottom lip slowly.

“God I can’t stand you sometimes..” she sighed out softly before she pressed her mouth against yours in a needy kiss. Your hands instantly wrap around her neck, keeping her close as her own arms wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against her body.

It’s as if any and all moral high ground that you had was gone, replaced by only thoughts of Ellie. You let her fill you up, breath life into you as her warm tongue explored your mouth, dominated the kiss and took you on a wild fucking ride that only consisted of a single kiss from her.

Soon, she’s breaking the kiss, and it makes you whine and chase her lips. She chuckles softly, the sound dark and taunting as she stares down at your needy eyes and swollen lips. “Now you’re chasing me…poor thing…” she tuts out, clearly mocking you with a pouty tone.

She slips her hand into your jacket pocket, taking out your phone and looking at the message. She rolls her eyes, pushing the phone in between you two.

“You’re gonna call her, and you’re gonna tell her you aren’t coming” she demands. Your eyes go wide, looking up at Ellie before you quickly shake your head. “What? No! Ellie I can’t! I…can’t I just text her?” Even your own words shock you a bit, because are you seriously staying with Ellie when there was a perfectly willing girl waiting for you at a bar down the street?

If Ellie said so, then yeah. Yeah you were.

Ellie shrugged before she unlocked your phone, having learned your password way back when you two first moved in together. “Fine. I’ll call her” she nodded, her fingers scrolling through your phone to find the girls contact. This makes your eyes go wider, and you quickly snatch your phone from Ellie’s hand, because you know that Ellie will be shameless with it, and it’ll make you look way worse than you already do by flaking so last minute.

“No! No…fine…I’ll do it. Just…please be quiet, Ellie” you plead, giving her a look of warning before you sigh softly, looking down at your phone for a moment before you click the girl contact, set it to call, and put your phone to your ear.

Ellie smiles proudly, pearly teeth gleaming as her hands give your hips a firm squeeze. “That’s my fuckin girl…” she praises. Her words makes your insides flutter, core tightening around nothing as you wait for the girl to answer, a gentle pout on your lips despite the fact that your arms were still wrapped around Ellie, and she still had your body pressed against hers.

After a few rings, she finally answers. Her voice is bright and bubbly and you want to kick yourself for doing this to someone so fucking sweet.

“Hey….look…I’m really sorry but I think I’m going to have to-“ your words are cut off by Ellie’s lips pressing against your neck, wet mouth working against your skin, bitting and sucking, sure to leave marks in the morning. It makes you gasp softly..

Because Ellie never left marks.

It wasn’t something that ever really bothered you. It helped in all honesty, you didn’t really want to be walking around littered in Ellie’s hickies, it would’ve resulted in too many questions from your coworkers and friends, and you really didn’t want to deal with that. It was just an unspoken rule, Ellie didn’t mark you, and you didn’t mark her. That was too far along the lines of being a couple for you.

But clearly, that had all changed tonight.

There was a sense of possessiveness that you could feel when she did it. Teeth and tongue sucking and biting at your soft skin, eager to claim you in any way that she possibly could. Between the feeling of it, and the fact that she was doing it, it made it hard to talk, your eyes rolling back into your head as you bit back a whimper, covering it up with a couch as you tried finding the words in your fuzzy head to speak to the girl.

Ellie smirked against your throat as she listened to you struggle, listened to the muffled words of the confused girl on the other line try to understand what it was you were saying.

You tugged at Ellie’s hair slightly, yet still kept her close as she mouthed your neck. “I…I can’t…look I’m really not feeling well..I…mph…I can’t come out tonight. I’m sorry” you quickly ramble out, knowing you were too close to moaning out Ellie’s name to keep this going on any longer. Before you were able to hear what the girl had to say on the other line, you hang up, turn your phone off and toss it onto the couch.

You moan softly, tilting your head to the side to give Ellie better access to your neck. “I can’t believe you fucking did that…” you moan out as you began shrugging your jacket off, tossing it somewhere in the living room. You felt too hot, too fucking needy, everything was just too much and you struggled to wrap your head around what exactly was even happening.

“Me? I didn’t do anything…you’re the one that cancelled on the poor girl” Ellie teased gently, which earns a swat to her arm from your end.

You sigh softly, tugging her hair back so that she’s pulled away from your neck. You waste no time in crashing your lips against hers, your tongue pushing into her mouth with need as you kiss her feverishly. Ellie groans into the kiss, her hands going down to give your ass a firm squeeze. “Eager are we?” She grunts against your lips.

You huff softly, ignoring her words as you begin pushing her backwards towards her room, your lips never leaving the sloppy kiss. It’s so fucking erotic, and messy, and needy, and there’s so much filling it that you can both clearly feel. You decide to ignore it.

“I decided to stay with you…you better make this worth it” you groan out softly, which only earns a smirk from Ellie as she stares down at you, her heart fluttering at the way you pushed her around, did with her as you pleased.

“I always do, baby” she chuckled softly, and all you want to do is wipe that smug fucking smirk off her beautiful face.

Once you’re in her bedroom, you press your palms against her chest, shoving her back to lay on her bed. She lets out a soft moan, clearly happy with the way that you’re handling her.

You tug your dress up a bit as you move to straddle her, her hands instantly moving to grip your thighs. She lets out a soft hiss, her lust filled eyes eating up the way your dress hugs your curves, pushes up your boobs. For a moment, you see a hint of something flash through her eyes as she watches you, taking in the dress that you wore for a date, wore for someone else.

You don’t ignore it this time, because it’s clearly jealously.

You don’t know whether or not you should say something, or kiss her, or do anything else to get your mind off of it, but you don’t have to. Because as soon as you’re settled down on her lap, you can feel a foreign bulge pressing into your clothed core, and it makes your eyes widen and Ellie smirks and rolls her hips up to grind it into you, and then you realize what the surprise that Ellie had was.

Ellie was finally going to fuck you tonight.

And not with her fingers, or with a sex toy, it would be with her strap. She was going to fuck you, something you’d already assumed wasn’t going to happen between the two of you.

She must have noticed the shocked look on your face, because she chuckles as she continues grinding her cock into you, making you whine softly as you press you hands on her hips to give yourself leverage as you roll your hips to meet her movements.

“Feel that baby? It’s all yours…went out and brought a brand new one just for you…” she explained, revealing what it was that she’d been out doing while you were getting ready for your date.

She was buying new toys to fuck you with, and picking up dinner for after.

You felt like you were dreaming.

All you can do is moan in response, eagerly undoing Ellie’s jeans, wanting nothing more than to feel her fill you up, fucking into you deliciously, giving you what you’d always wanted.

Ellie is quick to grab your wrists, pulling them away from her jeans. “Ahh, not so fast, princess….we’re gonna do this the right way” she hums out softly. You can’t help but pout, a soft huff leaving your lips as you open your mouth to complain, but Ellie is already sitting up, gently pushing you back to lay on her bed properly as she crawls over you.

She hums softly, staring down at your body for a moment, silently taking you in before she pushes your dress up, pressing a soft kiss to your lips as her hands find its spot cupping your clothed pussy.

“Hmm….so wet already…I’m gonna have so much fun taking you, baby…” she groaned against your lips, swallowing up your moans as her slender fingers pressed against your clit, rubbing you slowly, forcing the cotton material of your pantries to go translucent as your arousal soaked them almost entirely.

And your head is spinning as she kisses you, because she’s being so slow, so gentle, treating your body with so much care. And it’s not unlike Ellie to do this, but you just assumed this would have gone differently. You expected her to be rough, fucking into you while telling you how no one could ever fuck her like she does…

But she’s not. She’s so gentle, and soft, and it’s making your heart do dances it’s never done before..

Ellie lets out a soft sigh as she tugs your panties to the side, feeling your velvety folds better now without the fabric constricting her. She rubs you slowly, building you up, getting your sopping little pussy all warmed up for her cock. Soon, her hands leave your core, and she pulls you up to tug your dress off before laying you back down, and tugging off your panties as well, leaving you entirely naked before her.

Ellie hisses softly under her breath as she eyes you, sitting back on her legs as she begins tugging off her own shirt, before she crawls off the bed to tug her jeans off, leaving her completely naked as well, eyes never leaving your body.

“You’re so fucking beautiful…” she mumbles out softly before she crawls back onto you, pressing her naked chest against yours. The feeling makes you moan loudly into her mouth as she kisses you, because you’ve never felt Ellie like this. You’ve never had her body pressed up against yours this way, and it feels like the single most intimate thing you’ve ever felt in your entire life.

Ellie’s hand goes down to her cock, gripping the base before she brings it to your core, running it along your sopping wet folds, against your clit before she slowly feeds you her length, earning a whiny moan from you.

Ellie quickly nods as she kisses you softly, one of her hands giving your waist a squeeze. “I know baby…I know it’s big…you can take me…I know you can” she praises you, and it makes you moan softly into her mouth as she rubs your clit, pushing further into your weeping cunt.

“Ellie…fuck…more…need more” you moan against her, the empty feeling still present as she waits for you to tell her it’s okay to keep going. She groans softly, pushing more of her length into you until she bottoms out completely, her thighs flushed against yours as she waits for you to adjust to her size.

You roll your hips slowly, already feeling yourself leaking around the length, and you give her a nod, staring into her green eyes as your hips buck up into her. “Need you, El…need more of you..” you moan out softly.

And Ellie feels like her head is spinning when you say that.

Her strong hand goes down, gripping your thigh as she slowly fucks into you, moaning as her clit bumps against the back of the strap with her movements.

Her eyes never leaves you, watches as your face contorts in pleasure, moaning loudly for her, arching your back when the tip of her cock rubs against your velvety walls, watching as you fall apart on her length.

Her thrusts are slow, and calculated and she’s staring down at all of you as she fucks into you. You suddenly feel her long fingers wrap around your cheeks, pulling you to look up at her because frankly, you’re having a hard time looking anywhere.

“Eyes on me, baby…need to see you right now…f-fuck…that’s my good fucking girl…taking me so well” she praises, and it makes you moan loudly with her. You grab her wrist, watching as she fucks into you faster, both of you getting closer and closer to what you’ve been needing for who knows how fucking long.

Suddenly, Ellie’s hand leaves your face and instead, grabs your hand, bringing it above your head as she interlocks your fingers. Her gaze is so intense, and the grip on your hand is so tight, you feel tears prickling at the ends of your eyes because whatever the hell is happening is too goddamn intense, it’s taking over you completely, and it’s making it all too much.

“Ellie…Ellie I…I…” you choke out between little moans and whines, your eyes growing glossy as you stare up at her, and Ellie is already nodding despite your lack of words, because she understands, she feels it too, and you don’t even have to say it.

“Come on baby…give it to me…fuck…cum with my angel…please” she’s practically begging, her own moans cutting off her words as she fucks you faster, the grip on your hand almost lethal as she stares down at you, tugging her bottom lip into her mouth.

And you feel it, how could you not? Your orgasm washes over you almost painfully, making you close your eyes shut as your back arches, squeezing Ellie’s hand as you cum hard on her cock. It’s too much, too intimate, too fucking intense, and you feel like you’ll explode just from the feeling of it.

Ellie has no other choice but to smash her lips against yours when she sees it, she can practically feel the way you grip her cock with your pussy and it’s the catalyst that sends her into her own sea of pleasure, euphoria swallowing her up and almost drowning her as she kisses you with everything she’s feeling, pouring it all out into you as her hips slowly fuck into you, riding out both yours and her orgasm.

The come down is hard, because she’s on top of you, and it’s quiet apart from the heavy breathing between you and hear, and her head is resting on her chest…

And all Ellie can think about, is how utterly fucked she is..

Because she’s in love with you

[hello-sweetheart]

You know that trope where Person A thinks Person B is just being nice but they’re actually flirting. What about the opposite? Person A misreading their behavior and being the only one falling impossibly in love.

Clumsy in Love part 1

Eddie really is just that nice and friendly, but Steve is convinced that Eddie is flirting with him. He’s flirting back, less confident and more subtle than he usually would, but he’s never liked a guy that way.

Not in a way that made him really want to spend every waking moment just hearing them ramble. Not in way that made Steve want to keep him the way he wants to keep Eddie. Everything is so new. It feels, delicate. Precious.

His heartbeat quickens each time Eddie leans into his space and it’s been happening all the time now that Steve worries he’ll develop a heart condition if he doesn’t deal with it soon. When Eddie laughs and leans his face closer to his own, looks into Steve’s eyes through those lashes in a way that Steve can’t help but take a quick glance at those lips curled is mischief.

He’s always so happy to see Steve, wasting no time in bouncing his way to greet him and pull him into the conversation with an arm slung around his shoulder. Then there’s the moments of shared glances when someone says something particularly astounding. And how Eddie will make his way into Steve’s space when they sit together, throwing his feet in his lap or leaning into his side.

Sure, Eddie is friendly but not to this extent. Not with everyone else. Steve feels it. Knows it. That electricity between them that makes this thing between them different. Special.

But one day (another that Steve spends trying to work up the courage to do something), they’re in the city shopping for music in an alternative store that’s tucked away. Steve is talking to Eddie, giddy and happy because it just them today, and Eddie is nodding along while he browses through the tapes and then,

Eddie looks up and stills, eyes widening just a bit. And Steve is still rambling along, but he can tell his words are just going through one ear and out the other. He trails of caught in the middle of his story because he’s never seen this look on Eddie face.

Eddie’s mouth is slightly agape, eyes alight caught in wonder and soft as he looks at something across the room and when Steve turns to see what caught his eye—

A guy stands a couple tables away looking at some vinyl and shyly smiling at Eddie in small glances. He’s a bit taller than them, dressed in black with a couple of piercings decorating his face, the sides of his head shaved short. Attractive, dementor coy and kind.

His heart skips a beat again, but it feels different this time.

Steve looks back at Eddie whose cheeks are slightly dusted in pink.

“Eddie-“

Eddie takes his lower lip between his teeth before smiling back at the guy and continuing without casting a second glance at Steve, “yeah, uh, give me a second, okay?” And he’s crossing the room without waiting for a response.

His chest. It feels…

Like those few seconds before plummeting down a rollercoaster… when your way up high, at the very top, the moment still with the anticipation of the fall, and there’s nowhere else to look but down.

You finally plummet and caught in the whiplash thinking you must have left your heart back at the top.

There’s static there on the bottoms of his feet and at the palm of his hands. The world goes a bit distant as he watches them.

Eddie’s leaning against the wall with a sultry smile adorning whatever sweet words he’s speaking.

Steve’s drowning in the honey, it’s palpable. doesn’t know if it’s better or worse that he can’t hear the words.

Eddie’s fiddling with a curl that’s draped over his shoulder, pulling it slightly over his face like a young school girl.

Steve doesn’t think he’s ever seen Eddie appear anything but confident and loud; the image of the person in front of him is foreign, strange.

Eddie’s speaking to him but his eyes are locked on the guy’s lips that are wet from the tongue that peaks to briefly lick them as he listens.

Eddie’s shoe is nudging the guys own, as he talks, playful.

Oh.

Oh.

Mouth dry, Steve’s throat clicks.

It’s hard to swallow.

Part 2

[3liza]

i mean the truth is that we do not need and should not have all this stupid plastic clutter in or houses. no one should be producing or selling this shit. everyone make your own merchandise and charge a living hourly wage to sell it 🤷 sorry to be so simplistic about this but it's one of the results of the lack of class unity specifically in the means of production-owning creative class, who is not mentioned or dealt with by the core Marxist texts as far as I know (i asked about this earlier on here, did marx ever address in his analysis people like, for example, a professional photographer who owns a camera ans prints his own dagguereotypes? or a portrait painter or idk, independent milliner or seamstress? these people all own the means of production and do not employ anyone, and the answer from better educated people than I was that no, Marx didn't mention them), I'm not well read on this at all, there is just a big void where leftist analysis of what modern economists call "the creative class"

I'm getting off topic. my point is make your own keychains in your kitchen. it's actually not hard. you can even mass produce (on a small scale) little plastic crap if you want, with resin and a UV lamp, or a 3d printer, or a laser cutter and acrylic sheets (or just use balsa wood damn, at least its biodegradable and less tacky).

all this stuff is available to little creators AND there are hundreds of people who already own these machines who will take work for you and produce your designs. you just have to actually find them and know them and email them. that's what I mean about the class unity issue with creatives. we have no large scale union, we have no large scale class consciousness, and we're all sending our orders for little plastic crap to sweatshops instead of emailing a guy with a laser cutter in his garage and saying "hey Keith can I get uhhhhhhhhhhh 50 laser cut keychains of this twerking Diggler design I made, like how much would that cost" and he's like sure here's the work and materials cost and tbh it's always always less than i think it's going to be. you just have to do some basic arithmetic and then order shipping, and I hate order fulfillment with my life but you can actually pay or barter with someone to do that for you too. learn to delegate and then factor that into your unit cost. this is basic shit every commercial creator needs to know. they should teach you this in art school but they dont

don't give me crap about "I can't afford a laser cutter" either because I just told you to email Keith. and all these machines get sold secondhand when a manufacturer or hobbyist needs to upgrade. i got a color laser printer perfect for making zines and wheatpastes and shipping labels from a retired lesbian on capital hill for $75 and it was still full of ink. my friend gave me her 20 year old canon dslr because she just didn't need it and didn't want to bother selling it. it works fine because I spent the time finding the right drivers and shit for my computer. and card readers exist. Craigslist. Facebook marketplace. nextdoor sales section. eBay. everyone always forgets eBay. eBay lets you save searches and will email you when it finds a guy selling his vinyl plotter in your city with local pickup. I'm serious

[dollyhyuckii]

BROOKLYN’S PRETTY BABY —!⋆୨୧˚ (엔시티 드림)

📞 ⋆୨୧˚ based on brooklyn baby by lana del ray ⋆୨୧˚

in which… in brooklyn’s chaos, jeno adores you, his “pretty baby,” but love blurs who’s in control. — 이제노 x fem!reader ⋆୨୧˚ suggestive /full fic ⋆୨୧˚ wc • 935 pet names such as my baby, pretty baby, pretty girl, baby! made with love by autum ⋆୨୧˚

⋆୨୧˚ authors note- likes and reblogs are always greatly appreciated, everything is in lowercase on purpose, enjoy reading ⋆୨୧˚

the loft is loud with laughter and cigarette smoke, the hum of a pretentious jazz record playing from a beaten up vinyl player in the corner. you sit on the floor by the window, your back against the peeling brick wall, a notebook sprawled open in your lap, your pen hovers over the page, thoughts half formed as you glance around at the crowd.

jeno across the room, leaning against a rusted radiator, his arms crossed and his head tipped slightly to the side. he’s watching you. he always is. you can feel his gaze even when you don’t meet it , heavy and steady, like your the only thing worth noticing in the whole chaotic scene.

“my baby” he calls over the din, a lazy grin spreading across his face as he pushes off the wall and strolls toward you. his voice carries, low and familiar sending a ripple through the group. heads turn, but he doesn’t care. he only had eyes for you

you glanced up at him, raising an eyebrow. “what, jeno?”

he crouches down beside you, his leather jacket creaking softly as he moves “what masterpiece are you working on now, pretty girl?”

“it’s not for you” you said, closing the notebook before he can peek inside. “i don’t expect you to get it”

jeno laughs, and the sound feels warm against your skin. “your so full of it” he plucks the pen from your fingers like it belongs to him and twirls it between his fingers. “but that’s why i like you. you’re my baby, even when you’re acting all untouchable”

you roll your eyes, through you can’t help the small grin tugging at the corners of your lips. jeno always knows how to disarm you, breaking through your carefully crafted armor with a single well placed word or trust.

the night wears on, and the conversation around you blurs into white noise. jeno says by your side, his presence steady and grounding in a way you don’t like to admit. he doesn’t try to join the debates about the art and politics, he just sat there, his arm slung casually over the back of your chair, watching you with that soft look in his eyes.

at some point, his lips find your ear, his voice a low murmur that sends a shiver down your spine. “lets get out of here baby”

you hesitate, glancing around the room. these people, the scene it’s your world, the one you created so carefully. but jeno doesnt belong here, and somehow, neither do you.

“fine” you say, standing and grabbing your jacket. “but only because this place is boring”

he laughs, low and teasing, but he doesn’t argue. instead, he takes your hand, lacing his fingers with yours as he leads you out into the cold brooklyn night.

the city is alive, the streets buzzing with honking cars and the chatter of strangers. neon signs flicker overhead, casting their glow on the slick pavement. jeno walked beside you, his hands warm and steady in yours. he doesn’t ask where you want to go, he just keeps walking, weaving through the chaos like he knows exactly where you’re meant to end up

eventually, the noise fades, and you find yourselves alone on a quiet street, a single street lamp flickering above. jeno leaned against the lamppost, his dark eyes meeting yours in the dim light.

“you think you’re better than everyone in that room” he says, his tone teasing but his gaze serious. “and you are.., but you’re also mine”

you cross your arms, tilting your head. “oh im yours now?”

he steeped closer, his hands finding your waist, pulling you just close enough to feel the warmth of his breath on your skin. “yeah, my pretty baby, you are. even with your big words and your bigger attitude”

you don’t reply, not with words, anyway. instead, you let him kiss you, his lips soft, his touch grounding you. in the moment. jeno has a way of making you feel small and infinite all at once , like your both the queen of the city and the girl who can’t resist the boy who calls her “baby”

when the kiss breaks, he smirks, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “see?, told you”

you scoffed, stepping back but letting your hands linger in his “you’re insufferable”

“and you love it” he says, his grin widening as he tugs you closer again.

maybe you do, but you’d never admit it.

as the two of you wander further down the quiet street, he suddenly stops by a graffiti covered wall. the bright colors and the bold strokes of paint are almost hypnotizing under the streetlights. he pulls you close, resting his chin on top of your head.

“someday, im gonna paint you” he muttered, his voice soft. “something that’ll last forever. you’d look good up there, don’t you think? my pretty baby on ever wall in brooklyn”

you laughed, shaking your head. “you’re delusional, jeno”

“maybe..” he says with a grin, titling you’re face up to meet his gaze. “but you’d love it, don’t lie”

the truth is , you would. you’d love to see yourself up there, to know that even in the chaos of the city, you’d left your mark. for now though, you left jeno to think he’s the dreamer, the artist, the one with the vision

but between the two of you, you know who the real muse is.

and the city?, it can wait. tonight, it’s just you, your boy, and the dream you both keep pretending doesn’t scare you.

[harryssyndrome]

The Rain Girl | h.s

based on this request! Thx anon for sending your request [mwah mwah!] This is my all time favorite fairytale idea.

Posted on: December 9th, 2024 (IST). by the way I cried sm, can’t believe The Eras Tour is over😭 I need my swifties rn for comfort, fr. Omg I just noticed I’m posting after 13 DAYS, oh my swiftie heart rn. Like, comment and reblog are appreciated! I was so stuck with a long request that I exhausted my creative cells but I’m back now! and will complete all the small requests first 😌 DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, TRANSLATE OR PUBLISH TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM.

Tag-list: @wheredidmyeyesgo @fruity-harry @angeldavis777 @cherryloveshs @harryyloverrr | Tag-list is OPEN || Request are OPEN

word count: 1.9k || Masterlistt☔️

summery: Harry meets a carefree girl in a London rain and then in that moment he knows those romcom feelings.

The rain had always been Harry’s companion, a quiet backdrop to the chaos of his life. He loved the way it muted the world, the way its steady rhythm provided a semblance of order amidst his own disarray. But today, the rain had taken him by surprise. He’d barely managed to duck under the awning of a small bookstore when the sky opened up, releasing a torrent that drenched the cobblestone streets in seconds.

Leaning against the wall, Harry adjusted his jacket, flicking water off the lapels and running a hand through his damp curls. The exhaustion from a long day at the studio weighed heavily on him. His debut album was supposed to be a labor of love, but lately, it felt more like a battle against his own insecurities. Each note, each lyric, each chord had to be perfect, and the pressure to live up to everyone’s expectations was relentless.

He pulled out his phone to check if it had survived the sudden downpour, his mind already on the warm haven of his apartment. He could picture it now—dim lighting, a soft blanket, and the vinyl player spinning one of his favorite records. But then he heard it.

A laugh.

Not just any laugh, but a sound so pure and unrestrained that it sliced through the rain like a melody. It wasn’t the kind of laugh that came from a joke or a conversation. It was a laugh born of joy, spontaneous and infectious.

His head turned toward the sound, his brows furrowing in curiosity. A few steps away, illuminated by the warm glow of a streetlamp, was a girl. No, not just a girl—a force of nature.

She was dancing in the rain.

Her arms were outstretched, her head thrown back as the rain cascaded over her. She spun in circles, her navy-blue skirt flaring around her legs, her white shirt plastered to her skin and revealing the faint outline of a black bra underneath. Long strands of hair clung to her back and face, but she didn’t seem to care. She stomped in puddles with bare feet, her movements wild and uncoordinated, and yet, there was a grace to her, a rhythm that made it impossible to look away.

Harry felt rooted to the spot, his fatigue momentarily forgotten. It wasn’t just her appearance that caught his attention—though she was undoubtedly striking—it was the way she seemed to exist outside of time. In a city that never stopped moving, she had created a world of her own, a pocket of joy amidst the gray monotony.

He leaned against the wall, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he watched her. She was oblivious to him, too consumed by the moment to notice the figure standing in the shadows. For a fleeting second, Harry felt envious. When was the last time he had let go like that? When was the last time he’d allowed himself to simply be?

Then, as if sensing his gaze, she stopped. Her laughter faded, and she turned to look at him. Their eyes met, and Harry felt a strange jolt in his chest.

“Enjoying the show?” she called out, her voice warm and teasing, carrying easily over the sound of the rain.

Harry blinked, caught off guard. He pushed himself off the wall, shoving his hands into his pockets in an attempt to appear nonchalant. “Hard not to,” he replied, a faint smirk playing on his lips.

She tilted her head, studying him. “And why are you just standing there? Afraid of a little rain?”

He chuckled, glancing down at his soaked boots. “Not exactly dressed for it,” he said, motioning to his leather boots and jacket.

“Boots can be replaced. Moments like this?” She spread her arms again, gesturing to the rain-soaked street. “Rare.”

Her words hung in the air, challenging him. Harry hesitated, torn between the logical part of his mind that told him to stay dry and the inexplicable urge to join her. “I’d ruin my boots,” he countered, though his tone lacked conviction.

She laughed again, the sound light and carefree. “Ruin them, then. It’s worth it.”

Harry opened his mouth to respond, but then an idea struck him. He glanced toward the small café just a few doors down, its warm lights spilling onto the street. Without a word, he darted toward it, ignoring the rain soaking through his jacket as he crossed the short distance.

Inside, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and pastries greeted him. He approached the counter and ordered two takeaway cups of tea, the warmth seeping into his hands as he carried them back outside.

When he returned, she had stopped dancing, standing under the streetlamp with her head tilted back, letting the rain kiss her face. Her eyes flicked toward him as he approached, her curiosity evident.

“Thought you might need this,” he said, holding out one of the cups.

She blinked in surprise, then smiled as she accepted it. “Tea in the rain? How very British of you.”

He shrugged, a faint grin tugging at his lips. “Call it a peace offering. Or maybe an excuse to stand here and talk to you.”

She raised an eyebrow, her smile turning mischievous. “You didn’t need to buy me tea for that.”

Harry chuckled, taking a sip of his own tea. “Maybe not, but I thought it might earn me a few points.”

Her laughter returned, softer this time. She wrapped her hands around the cup, letting the steam rise toward her face. “Well, you’re off to a good start,” she admitted.

They stood in silence for a moment, the rain continuing to fall around them. Harry felt an unexpected sense of calm, the kind that had eluded him for weeks. She was magnetic in a way that wasn’t forced or deliberate.

“So,” he said finally, breaking the silence. “Do you always dance in the rain, or was I just lucky enough to catch a rare performance?”

She laughed, glancing down at her feet. “It’s not a regular thing,” she admitted. “But sometimes, you just… feel it, you know? Like the world is giving you permission to forget everything and just exist.”

Harry nodded slowly, her words resonating with him. “I think I needed to see that,” he said, his voice quiet but sincere.

Her expression softened, her gaze lingering on him. “Tough day?”

“Something like that,” he replied. He hesitated, unsure how much to share. “Long hours in the studio. Trying to get everything perfect.”

She tilted her head, her curiosity piqued. “You’re a musician?”

He smiled faintly. “Something like that.”

“Well,” she said, her voice thoughtful, “perfection is overrated. Look at me—spinning around like a lunatic, completely soaked, and probably scaring off anyone sane enough to be walking these streets. But I feel perfect right now.”

Harry couldn’t help but smile. “You make a convincing argument.”

Her gaze lingered on him, her eyes warm and inviting. “You should try it,” she said suddenly, setting her tea cup down on the railing of a nearby staircase.

“Try what?”

“Dancing,” she said simply. “You’ve got the boots for it.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Oh, come on,” she urged, stepping closer. “You’re already wet. What’s the harm?”

Before he could protest, she grabbed his hand, her fingers warm despite the rain. She pulled him into the middle of the street, her laughter spilling over as he stumbled slightly, caught off guard.

“This is ridiculous,” he said, though he couldn’t stop smiling.

“Ridiculous is underrated,” she countered, spinning him in a clumsy circle.

Harry let out a genuine laugh, the sound surprising even himself. He let go of his inhibitions, stomping in puddles and spinning her around as the rain continued to pour. For the first time in what felt like forever, he wasn’t thinking about deadlines or expectations. He was just… living.

When they finally stopped, both breathless and soaked to the bone, she looked at him with a grin that was equal parts teasing and genuine. “See? Not so bad, is it?”

He shook his head, his curls plastered to his forehead. “Not bad at all.”

As the rain began to ease, she picked up her tea and took another sip, her eyes flicking toward the horizon. “Well, Harry Styles,” she said, her tone playful, “thanks for the tea and the company. I think you just made my day.”

He blinked, surprised. “You know who I am?”

She smirked, her gaze mischievous. “Who doesn’t?”

As she turned to leave, Harry couldn’t help but call out after her. “Hey! Rain girl!”

She paused mid-step, glancing over her shoulder with an amused smile. “Rain girl?”

He shrugged, a playful grin spreading across his face. “Well, I don’t know your name, and it fits. You did kind of make an impression tonight.”

Her smile widened, and she took a step closer, tilting her head. “Does that mean I’ll have to keep dancing in the rain just so you’ll remember me?”

Harry laughed, shaking his head. “You’ve already made yourself pretty unforgettable,” he said, his voice softer, more sincere. “But… how do I find you again? Do I have to wait for the next downpour and hope you’ll be out here?”

She tapped her chin thoughtfully, her expression teasing. “Well, I do love dancing in the rain. Maybe you’ll just have to keep an eye out.”

Harry groaned dramatically, though his grin never faltered. “That’s a bit risky, don’t you think? What if the rain doesn’t come for weeks?”

She laughed, the sound light and melodic. “Then you’ll learn some patience.”

“Or,” he countered, pulling his phone from his pocket and holding it out to her, “you could just give me your number and save me the suspense.”

She raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by his persistence. After a moment, she took the phone from his hand, her fingers brushing against his as she typed. Harry watched her with a mixture of curiosity and anticipation, and when she handed the phone back, he glanced at the screen.

The number was there, but instead of a name, she had saved it under the nickname he’d given her earlier: Rain Girl.

He chuckled, his eyes flicking back to her. “Seriously? No name? Just Rain Girl?”

She shrugged, her smile playful. “I like the nickname. Besides, it’ll make sure you remember me.”

Harry smiled, his heart feeling inexplicably lighter. “I don’t think I could forget you even if I tried,” he admitted, his tone sincere. “And now I know what I’ll be dreaming about tonight.”

Her cheeks turned a faint shade of pink, and she dipped into a playful bow, holding the edges of her skirt like it was a ballroom gown. “In that case, let me properly introduce myself. This Rain Girl’s name is YN.”

Harry’s grin widened as he repeated her name softly, as though testing how it felt on his tongue. “YN.”

She straightened, her smile bright despite the rain-soaked strands of hair clinging to her face. “Now you’ve got a name to go with the number,” she said.

“Perfect,” Harry said, slipping his phone back into his pocket. “But I still think Rain Girl suits you better.”

YN laughed, a sound that seemed to linger in the air even as she turned and began walking away. Harry watched her go, a strange warmth settling in his chest.

As the rain tapered off, leaving the streets glistening under the dim streetlights, Harry couldn’t stop smiling. He hadn’t just found shelter from the storm—he’d found something unexpected, something he couldn’t quite put into words yet.

And he knew one thing for sure: the next time it rained, he’d be looking for her.

[austinbutlerslovers]

The Chase

Label Mature 18+

🎃 Kinktober One Shot

Summary Benny Cross chases you through the streets on his motorcycle but once he catches you the fun really begins.

🧡Depraved Smut🧡 Dubcon• fingering •P in V• orgasm 🔗 Master List

🎂 Happy Birthday @austinbutlerfly 🎂 (have a fun day ☺️) 📖 Proof reader @purejasmine

@megangovier Thank you so much it’s perfect for October 🧡

The Chase

The autumn night air is filled with excitement, the streets of Chicago alive for a parade. People are cheering and laughing, their voices rising in excitement as the floats glide by.

But you have no interest in the light festivities, you are looking for a different kind of thrill.

You move swiftly through the crowded sidewalks, dodging groups of people, the cool breeze biting at your skin.

The music fills the air loudly as people clap along, but you keep your head down, weaving through the chaos.

You walk into a crowded diner, the smell of fries and coffee filling the air as the usual crowd bustles in and out.

You go straight to the jukebox, flipping through the vinyls trying to make a selection—and that’s when you see him the moment he walks in.

—Benny Cross

He was impossible to miss, all swagger and confidence, his leather jacket on his broad shoulders like a second skin.

The jean vest he wore over his jacket wasn’t just for show either—it bore the unmistakable insignia of his biker crew, the Vandals.

They were infamous in Chicago, the name carrying weight in each corner of the city, and everyone knew to keep their head down as he walked past.

But Benny was the kind of trouble you couldn’t ignore—handsome in a way that made you look twice, and tonight, that trouble set his eyes directly on you.

He scanned the diner as he came in, looking at you for just a moment, a slow, knowing smile on his lips.

And that was all it took.

Maybe it was the challenge, or maybe it was just the way his eyes lingered on you for that one moment, but you were mesmerized.

You should’ve left well enough alone, you should’ve looked away, but something in you couldn’t help it—the thrill, the danger, the way Benny Cross made your heart race.

So as you walk past him, you make sure to bump into him, casual enough not to raise suspicion but just enough to get close.

Your hand slips into his back pocket with a practiced ease, your fingers curling around the leather of his wallet. He doesn’t notice, not immediately anyway—because who would ever steal from Benny Cross?

By the time you walk was past him, its already in your jacket, your heart pounding.

You dont look back. You couldn’t.

You know you shouldn’t have done it, but it doesn’t matter now. What matters is you got away with getting your quick thrill… or so you thought.

The parade has just ended, and the streets are littered with streamers and confetti, the crowd slowly dispersing as people head home in small groups, their laughter and voices carrying into the night.

-That’s when you hear it.

The echo of Benny’s motorcycle roaring through the streets behind you, the engine a low, menacing growl that cuts right through the cool October air.

Your heartbeat quickens—because you know he’s figured it out and you know exactly what he wants now.

-He’s after you!

Without warning, you break into a sprint, quickly weaving through clusters of people, your breaths coming in fast, adrenaline pumping through your veins.

You can hear Benny’s bike as he tracks you and he’s getting close—too close.

And that’s when you realize you’ve run too far ahead of the crowd, singling yourself out.

—Bad luck.

Benny spots you right away, the sound of his bike engine revving kicks your adrenaline into overdrive.

Gasping for breath you see an alley ahead and push your self faster, your heart pounding against your ribs as you dash in.

You’re trying to put as much distance between you and Benny as possible, but his engine only grows louder and you throw a glance over your shoulder to be sure.

—Bad idea.

Benny is right there, his eyes locked on you as he leans in on his bike turning into the alley, his headlight illuminating your every move.

He isn’t just catching up—he’s on you!

Every time the bike revs, it sends a jolt of panic through you the sound echoing loudly off the alley walls pushing you forward, making your heart hammer even harder in your chest.

You exhale, glancing around desperately for some escape route.

Ahead, the alley narrows, the walls closing in, dumpsters and crates forming an obstacle in your path and you know he won’t be able to follow you through on that bike.

You easily weave through the clutter, your breaths coming in quick as you do.

But just as you clear the blockage, the sound of his engine cuts abruptly, and you hear the heavy thud of his boots hitting the pavement.

—He’s coming after you on foot!

Benny Cross is running full-speed at you, his footsteps pounding against the pavement, and he’s much faster than you, he’s right behind you!

“Hey fucking stop!” he shouts, his voice dark with malice, the sound cutting through the alley.

Your chest is heaving, your veins going cold with dread seeing the alley closing to a dead end.

Your hand goes into your pocket, feeling the wallet you’d taken, wondering if it was all worth it now.

Before you can make another move, Bennys hand grips the collar of your jacket, yanking you back. You stumble forward gasping for breath, as his other arm snakes around your waist, pulling you against him.

“I said stop!” Benny yells, turning and pushing you against the cold brick wall of the alley.

His body cages you in, his grip firm and unrelenting as his steely blue eyes burn with a fierce anger, making it clear he isn’t letting you get away.

“What do you think you’re doing, hm?” he asks, his eyes searching your face in the dim lighting.

Your chest is heaving, still trying to catch your breath, and you don’t even answer, feeling the adrenaline still coursing through you, your pulse thundering in your ears.

There’s a shift in his expression as he looks at you, his intrigue growing as his gaze lingers on your features and then his eyes slowly trail down your body.

His hand reaches into your jacket pocket, fingers brushing against yours as he pulls his stolen wallet from your grasp, his gaze lingering intensely as he holds it up between you.

“You thought you could get away with this?” he asks, his voice laced with intrigue as he returns it securely to his back pocket.

You shoot him a defiant look, your heart still hammering in your chest.

“Maybe …I wasn’t trying to get away,” you retort, your breath catching feeling a wave of heat flood through you having him so close.

He’s pressed against you, the scent of leather and a faint trace of smoke clinging to him, making him even more intoxicating.

“What were you trying to do then?” he asks, his voice dropping lower, his gaze deepening as it sweeps over you, taking in every small reaction.

You look up at him, your face flushed as your lips part, because in the midst of everything, the truth is undeniable—you are drawn to him—irresistibly attracted to his danger in every way, and now you have him.

He catches it, that spark of attraction, his eyes shifting with a subtle recognition as the tension between you changes into a different kind of charge.

His gaze lingers on your parted lips as you hesitate to answer and a slow knowing grin spreads across his face.

He leans in close, so close that his lips brush the shell of your ear. “The next time you want my attention,” he whispers, the words slow, savoring the moment as his grip on your jacket loosens “…just ask for it.”

His words hit you like a spark to kindling, igniting a rush of heat that spreads through your entire body. His attention is exactly what you want.

His eyes lock with yours now fully aware of the effect he has on you and his fingers lightly begin to trail down your body with an agonizing slowness.

His touch is soft, almost intimate, as his hand glides down to your waist but it carries the weight of his dominance—an unspoken reminder that he’s caught you and isn’t about to let you forget it.

You swallow hard, trying to steady your breathing, your heart racing in your chest as his hand lingers, just barely grazing your side, the contact sending sparks of heat through you.

“I should be mad,” he muses, sliding his thumb along your waist, testing the limits of how far he can push.

“But I think I like the way you play,” he reveals, his fingertips slipping into the waist band of your skirt.

His touch is confident and knowing, making it impossible to ignore his intentions, and the way he looks at you makes it clear—he’s in control, and he’s enjoying every second of it.

You bite your lip, the urge to lean into his touch becoming overwhelming as a surge of adrenaline rushes through you reminding you of the chase that led you here.

“You like playing with danger?” he asks, his voice low, his gaze flicking down to your lips and back to your eyes, and the way he looks at you tells you everything you need to know.

—He’s going to take what he wants.

You open your mouth to answer, but the words die on your lips as he says, “Well, now you’ve got it,” his voice rough and heavy with need and you don’t even try to stop him as he leans in, his lips claiming yours in a hard, possessive kiss.

His other hand dips to the small of your back, pulling you flush against him and you gasp against his mouth as his hand slips lower, his fingers grazing your panties as if daring you to deny him.

“You should’ve known better,” he whispers against your lips, his voice dark and intense. “Taking what’s mine… this is what happens.” He confirms his hand gliding lower.

You barely have time to react before his fingers push their way into your panties. The alley beyond you becoming nothing but a blur as his fingers thrust into you rough and urgent, like he can’t get enough.

His mouth moves to your neck, trailing hot kisses along your skin as he thrusts them even harder inside you, the slick wetness coating his fingers.

You let out a low moan, feeling how soaked you are as the pressure builds between your thighs, his touch igniting something deep and uncontrollable within you.

“You like getting caught?” he rasps, his voice low and taunting, his breath hot and heavy against your ear and his fingers thrust faster, relentless now, his control slipping as his own need takes over.

“Yes,” you manage to gasp, the word barely a whisper, almost lost in the rush of sensation overwhelming you.

“I thought so,” he whispers, his lips grazing your ear, his fingers thrusting faster bringing you close to the edge.

“Gonna teach you a lesson about me” he says with a rough grip pulling your thigh up and pressing you harder against the brick wall, his body closing the space between you.

“You’re gonna take this lesson well,” he rasps as his other hand moves quickly, yanking down his zipper.

In one swift motion, he pulls your panties aside, his fingers slipping away, only to be replaced by the hard urgent tip of his cock.

You cry out as he pushes into you with one powerful thrust. He’s raw and unyielding—his pace rushed as his body claims yours without hesitation.

A moan rises in your throat, your breath quickening as your muscles tighten around him. Each thrust igniting a fire in you as he takes control.

“You wanna take something from me?... I’ll give you something to take,” he whispers against your ear, his voice dark and teasing.

With a sudden forceful thrust, he drives into you harder, pressing you firmly against the rough brick wall and a loud moan escapes your lips, as the pleasure floods through you. 

The heat of him, the roughness of him, the way his lips claim yours again—it all blurs together until you can’t think, can’t focus on anything but the way he makes you feel.

The tension coils tighter and tighter within you until his intensity is consuming every thought, every breath.

Before you know it, you begin to orgasm, your face pressing to his shoulder as desperate cries escape your lips feeling the waves of pleasure over take you.

Your inner walls tighten on his cock pulsing with each thrust, and you begin to loudly moan against him drawing him in deeper as you ride out the high.

Benny groans from his chest as he pulls out, his grip tightening on your hip.

His other hand wraps around his cock, roughly stroking it as he comes hard, his release spilling in thick streams along the alley way floor.

For a long moment, neither of you move, breaths still heavy and uneven as you come down from the intensity of the moment.

Benny leans back slightly, as he catches his breath. A smug grin on his lips as if he’s just won some kind of prize.

His fingers linger on your waist for just a second longer, as if to remind you he could take more if he wanted.

Then with a satisfied smile, he leans close, his lips grazing your ear.

“Next time you think of taking something from me you better ask first.” He whispers as he tucks his cock away in his jeans. “Or you better be ready to handle the consequences.” He adds with a wicked grin.

His words are a challenge, laced with danger and excitement, making your pulse race as you feel the weight of his promise linger in the air between you.

As you begin to straighten your skirt he steps back, that same easy confidence in his stride as he heads back toward his motorcycle.

He gives you one last look as he kick starts the engine, his grin still firmly in place, the silent promise in his eyes.

The intensity of his gaze makes it clear—he’s daring you to push him, and you know he’s more than ready to make you pay for it.

The roar of his engine echoes down the alley as he rides off, leaving you standing there with your heart pounding in your chest, and you bite your lip as you watch him go, knowing full well this isn’t the last time you’ll make Benny Cross chase after you.

🎃 End 🎃

🔗 Masterlist

🏷️Always Tag Me List @burnthheparaphilia @butdaddyilovehim99 @lindszeppelin @abswifey @ausssbutlershortstories @magicovento @umika @obsessedvibee @austiebuttbutt @psycheetamore @aust-een @faegoddessog @jessica987 @slowsweetlove @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler @hardcoredisneynerd @thegabbyh @thefallofthedamned @buckysteveloki-me @bucking-mustangs-with-wings @shegatsby @darlingisntit @lovereadingfanfic @elvismylove04 @denised916 @shockercoco @minispice-1 @ughdontbeboring @meetmeatyourworst @avidreader73 @xxmandaveexx @mamawiggers1980 @feralgodmothers @finley-08 @imjustheretoreadsmuthaha @majestyjade @gravesdiggergirl @nostalgichoya @ifuckindontknow @kaelatargaryen @darknightmareobject

🏍️ Benny Cross Tag List @ashelybutler @landlockedmermaid77 @jvanilly @oceanablue @12joeywheelerfangirl @presley1992 @rose-deathman @sillylittlethrowaway @lillypink @faephoria @fallout-girl219

[lizpottersworld]

series masterlist — click here!

☽｡⋆ 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐈 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄

01. for the hope of it all

summary: It’s officially the start of summer break, Remus arrives for his first day at his families farm and discovers a surprise guest in the flower fields.

Remus loved Hogwarts and being around his friends and especially his boyfriend but nothing compared to the ecstatic feeling of arriving at his families farm. It marked the beginning of an amazing summer. It was always the best way to start the next six weeks, the first four with his family and the next few at the Potter Manor.

As soon as the gates are held open for the truck to drive through, as the cows swarm around the flower fields. Remus closes his eyes and relishes in the warmth and belonging, everything was simple here. Blocked away from anything and everything that could possibly trouble you, it didn’t exist when on the farm.

“Remus, Honey, can you help me unload the bags please?” Remus’ mum, Hope, asked him as they pulled up outside the cottage decking. He nodded and stepped out to the refreshing sticky summer air to retrieve the bags from the boot. Lyall, Remus’ dad, patted him on the shoulder in thanks as he grabbed the bags next to him.

“Bet you’d rather spend your summer with Sirius, eh?” Lyall teased, noticing the way he avoided eye contact and the faint fluster on his cheeks. He chuckled as his son discreetly disappeared through the door without a word.

Being in a relationship was new for Remus but being in a relationship with another boy was something for him to get used to. Not that it bothered him, he was more nervous about his friend’s and families feelings towards it. As if they had a say in it, anyway. The light teasing his parents would throw his way never failed to make him blush and forget his train of thought.

Hope held the door open for him as he set the bags on the kitchen side, his dad not far behind, “I can see Sirius in a few weeks, plus theres such a thing called writing, Dad.” Remus rolls his eyes at him.

Lyall chuckles, “Perhaps next time, you can invite him to the farm to stay with us.” He wiggles his eyebrows and Remus shakes his head with a smile.

“Not sure mum would allow that,” He added, “Plus, not sure Sirius could hide the whole magic wizard thing from everyone here.” Lyall nodded and mumbled about unpacking his stuff in the master bedroom.

Remus nodded and helped his mum to unpack the food bags for the next few weeks and the couple of bouquets of flowers she had bought ‘to liven up the place’ to put them in their respective vases.

Hope hummed along to a muggle song tune that played through the record player, that was lined up with various vinyls, “Remus, why don’t you go on a walk, you’ve helped out loads.” She softly smiled up at her son.

Remus nodded and pressed a kiss to the crown of his mums head before grabbing his jacket to go on his annual walk. It was nothing special, he just liked to walk through the fields with the animals and to say hello to the surrounding neighbours kids who were playing and giggling in the grass.

Really nothing could compete with the serenity and love that cascaded through the many fields of the farm. Something about the country side seemed so perfect to Remus. Better than any city, or any town. To have a peaceful yet beautiful life out here was all he could possibly want.

Even though it was only a few weeks till they met up again, Sirius and Remus had made a promising deal to write a letter every few days to provide an update on each other’s summers. Sirius persisted on not leaving any detail out, so he could imagine exactly where he was whilst he was at the Potters.

It was thankfully Sirius’ third summer at the Potters house, away from his horrible superiority family and house. Him being away from them, served as a tedious comfort and reminder of Sirius’ safety even if he was hours away. James’ parents had almost become like his own, and his house had become Sirius’. Even if they acted like brothers anyway, it was even more of a reassuring factor.

The last few weeks of every summer, James’ parents invites some of James’ friends to their house to stay for the remaining holidays. Those two weeks always gave the best memories, something to always remember happened during that time.

As much as he wished he was laughing with his friends right now, strolling through the fields with flowers and many cows around was something that Remus felt he couldn’t trade for the world.

The golden sun rays reflecting onto the people around and onto the duck pond, it was the perfect picture of heaven. Children around were gleaming with happiness and the parents watched them with just about the same degree of excitement.

There wasn’t many people in the actual fields, more in their parts of their farm in the back garden, all connected by a lake. Apart from one.

A stunning girl twirled and smiled through the flower field, the sun kissing her perfectly as she shone. A lacy white dress adorned her to her thighs to which she also wore a tattered pair of worn, mahogany cowboy boots that shielded her legs from the tickling grass.

Not many older kids visited the farm, if they did they were either here to visit grandparents or just passing through. But taken by the worn boots and the sense of familiarity, Remus felt that this girl wasn’t one of those people. It was like he knew her, but he shook his head at that simply not being possible.

The girl turned around also noticing the tall bronzed brunette walking towards her, instinctively she smiles at the figure. But then a flicker of reminiscence finds her eyes and his eyebrows furrow in question.

“Remus? Remus Lupin, is that you?” The girl shouted, hands on the sides of her mouth to echo her words. Remus still confused waited as the girl lightly ran over to him.

His mouth gaped open, distance not being a problem he could now inspect the girls face, he knew her. Her face was now matured but also carried a vulnerability which he knew all too well.

“Y/n?” He whispered in disbelief, she nods in excitement. “I thought you left.” He shook his head.

“Well, you can never really get rid of me.” She laughed, Remus immediately pulled her into his warm embrace, savouring the feeling. “Six years too long, huh?” She murmured from her face in his neck.

“Where did you even go?” He pulled away to look at her face, to then pull her back into his arms.

She hesitated, “Some like um boarding school, in France,” she smiled, “But i’m moving to another school in Scotland because my mother insists.”

Remus grinned, “does that mean you’ll be coming back here more often?” She nodded and laughed. “I can’t believe you’re here,” he admired her new hairstyle and looked down to accommodate her height, “you look so different, yet so similar.”

She shook her head in agreement, “I could say the same about you, last i remember i was taller than you and you had those circle glasses.” She laughed, recalling his innocence and adorableness. Now he was a whole giant, and had littered of scars all over his face. He was still gorgeous, so beautiful as usual. Even more if possible.

Remus looked to the familiar cottage that she and her family usually stayed in, noticing her not-so-little-anymore siblings playing in the front garden. Her mother, Isabelle, waved to Remus whilst she supported a baby on her hip.

“Willow and James are seven now, and my mum had another baby, Everly, she’s only 2.” Y/n explained, smiling as Remus waved back to her mother. He looked back to her, a supporting smile on his face.

Y/n had always had a loving and supportive family, even when Remus was younger. The age of 11, and he would play with her siblings whilst they were two. He always loved it. Her mother was like his second mother, so intent on being welcoming to Remus and encouraging his and y/n’s friendship.

They had met at the local market around the farm, their mums becoming friends whilst the two only five, shyly waved at each other.

Hope encouraged him to introduce himself and with an adorable smile he mumbled, “My names Remus!” and y/n was the more shy one out of the two of them. She looked up pouting at Isabelle who looked between the two and y/n hesitantly introduced herself, “i’m y/n.”

Then it turned into play dates in the cottage gardens, till they would independently go play games in the fields, like tag or even hide and seek.

“No, Remmy, you’re cheating!” Little y/n giggled as nine year old Remus peeked watching her hide. Remus continuously refused he wasnt each round, until y/n realised every round he knew exactly where she was.

“Thats lovely,” he said, pulling her into yet another side hug, “I still can’t believe your back. You’ll be tired of me by the end of the summer.”

“We’ll always have more summers to look forward to.” She agreed, toying with the freshly picked flowers in her hands that she was planning on weaving into a flower crown.

Remus noticed the sun starting to set and reluctantly turned to say goodbye, “I have to get back, help my mum with dinner,” He softly spoke, y/n dusted her dress and smiled at Remus, “I’ll see you tomorrow, y/n/n.” He playfully ruffled her hair and she yelped in surprise.

Fixing her hair huffing as Remus laughed, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Remmy.” She teased, using their childhood nicknames they had for each other. Remus shook his head, waving to y/n’s mum before walking back towards the cottage.

He smiled to himself, already noting to buy some flowers for her mum. This was going to be the best summer, he decided, strolling back to the cottage entrance where his mother welcomed him.

“Mum, you wouldn’t guess who i saw.” He laughed in disbelief, Hope eagerly sat at the dinning table as Remus relayed the last half an hour to his mum.

[februarybluues]

You spin my head around (like a record)

summary: hobie never believed in throwing his money away to useless big corporations. but, when you started working at his favorite record shop, he decided to make a small exception. warnings: slight flirting, terrible british a/n: i love this idea so so much and have many ideas for it so if you want a part 2 let me know!!!

If there was one thing hobie hated most, it was capitalism. Having to spend money on things you didn’t need but were marketed in a way that made you feel like you needed them, pissed him off to no end. Especially when it came to big corporations. He didn’t see the purpose of having to feed these ‘money-hungry pigs’, which would only end up causing harm to everything and everyone that got in their way. The only exception was small businesses. He never gave his money away on anything unless he desperately needed it, but that wasn’t often. Until it came to you.

There was a particular record shop in the middle of the city that he occasionally visited. Mainly because it was the only one near him that actually had his favorite artists. – which were rarely sold due to how ‘underground’ they were. Don’t get me wrong, he liked his fair share of mainstream, popular artists, he just also liked his fair share of small garage punk bands. The kind of small bands you’d find playing at your local pub. But, the point is: that specific record shop was the only one he actually liked. But, that didn’t change his hatred for capitalism. Which meant he wasn’t shy to ‘borrow’ a few cd’s, or vinyls from that shop. Actually, he hadn’t once paid for anything, and he’d never once been caught. That’s just how things were. He’d never planned to feed into society’s corrupt ideations. Never. He would continue to visit that record shop whenever he pleased, but never once considered buying anything. That is, until a new employee started working there.

They were perfect. The living embodiment of utter perfection. Every time Hobie entered the shop he was greeted by a sweet smile from behind the till. Everything that person did drove Hobie crazy. - in the best way imaginable. That person was you. You’d only recently gotten the job, around a few weeks ago. It was simple enough, but it definitely was not your dream job. You only got it because you needed the money, even though the pay was barely enough to get you going for the week, it was something! Despite never once having a proper conversation, Hobie knew he liked you. From your genuine, unrelenting kindness, to your style. He was fond of everything you did. And before he knew it, his occasional visits turned to him visiting whenever he could. Not because he wanted to actually buy anything, but because he wanted to see you. Any chance he got, he would rush straight over to you. It got to a point where he had memorised when you were working and when you weren’t. And now, here he was.

“Are you actually gonna pay this time?” you asked him, familiar with his habit of pocketing cd’s and vinyls and then leaving. You never did anything about it for many reasons. One of which was because you did not get paid enough to deal with it. And also, because he was insanely attractive. He laughed. Not like an actual laugh. But, a small exhale, similar to scoffing. “Maybe I am,” he said, handing you the vinyl. You smiled at him and scanned the record, noticing the familiar album cover. “Oh sex pistols!” you exclaimed, mentally taking note of how his music taste was almost as beautiful as he was. “You’ve got good taste.” you said, before putting the record in a bag. You didn’t notice how he lit up at the sudden compliment; freaking out on the inside, but playing it off well. “You listen to ‘em?” he asked, his heavy accent now very prominent. Your smile never once faltered as you looked back at him. “I love them!” you said. You began to hum the tune to one of their songs, doing a dramatic little dance, which earned a small laugh from him. “You know… It’s surprising that you’re actually buying something for once.” you commented, jokingly but also genuinely. He tilted his head to the side in response. “Oh yeah? How so?”  he leaned against the till, hands in his pockets as he talked with you. “Well, I see you here all the time. - Almost every time I'm working, actually. And - I guess I kinda got used to you wandering around and then leaving. It’s kind of weird how this is the first time I’ve heard your voice.” you laughed, and his lips quirked up in a small, almost unnoticeable smile. “What’s wrong with havin’ a look around?” his voice was low, and he spoke innocently. Despite the both of you knowing he was anything but innocent. “We both know you’ve been having a bit more than a look around.” you said, in reference to the many times you’d seen him ‘borrowing’ a few cd’s. He laughed this time. In truth, he cherished this moment. As it had been the first time he’d heard your voice. You were sweet, funny, and apparently had good music taste. All three of those traits were almost impossible to be found in the people Hobie had met. There was just something about you that was so different from everything else. So unique and-

“That’ll be 24.99” you said, snapping him out of his thoughts. 24.99? He repeated in his head, confused. He could’ve sworn that the price tag said 30? Had you given him a discount? For literally the first time ever, he handed the money to you and paid. He regretted a lot of things, but getting to talk to you was not one of them. You handed him the bag and smiled at him once more. Hobie then realised this would probably be the only time he’d ever interact with you again. In a panic, he spoke up again. “D’ya wanna spend time together after this? We could maybe listen t’the record? See if it was worth th’money?” While the usual confidence in his voice remained, there were hints of hesitation laced under his words. “I’d love to!” you exclaimed, blatantly happy. He smiled, now exposing his teeth. “Lovely.”

“I almost forgot–here’s my number!” you pulled out a pen from your pocket and wrote your phone number on the paper bag that you put his vinyl in; trying to make it as neat and legible as possible. Once you were happy with it, you handed it back to him. “I get off work at 6. Call me then and we can organise something, yeah?” you offered, to which he nodded. “It’s a date.” he said, and winked before turning around and exiting the shop; the jingling of the door suddenly sounded way happier than it usually did. Maybe your new job wasn’t so bad after all.

hey pookie just wanted to let u know my requests are opennn and you wanna request something sooooo badly so why don't you just go over there and send one in thanks love u hope you liked that little fic

[exhaslo]

Helloo! Can i request about moth reader and yandere miguel?.. I really appreciate all your writing! I hope you had a good day!

Tbh I'm not sure if you actually mean "moth" or if you meant "goth" but you know what...

Why not both? Haha, I think I have an interesting idea for it.

Warning: Possessiveness, experimentation, fluff, mentions of sex, manipulation

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This was NOT how your experiment was supposed to go.

This was NOT how you expected your life to turn out.

This was NOT how you wanted Miguel O'Hara to see you.

You had always been the oddball at your job. Most told you that it was rare to find such a 'creature' like yourself. It was always frustrating to explain to those ingrates that you were just expressing yourself the way as many did during the Great Hero Age.

You were a proud goth. Not many committed to this life style anymore as they focused more on the future. Hell, you had spent a good amount of money trying to find old CDs and Vinyl's from back in the day. There were many things that had disappeared within the last hundred years.

All you wanted to do was bring back an old culture to the year 2099!

The only person who did not mind your lifestyle was one of your regulars...

Miguel O'Hara

The man was the definition of fine. He was tall, hot and oh so perfect. He had wanted to get to know you at your little coffee shop and quickly became your regular.

Miguel was understanding. He enjoyed listening to you talk and even took your suggestions. You knew someone as perfect as him would not join in your lifestyle, but you were just happy that he bothered to give you the time to explain.

However...

How would Miguel react to you now?

You were desperate for money, so you decided to take an offer from Alchemax-the biggest company in the city...If not, the world. The only problem was that you didn't expect for the turnout. This was not what you were expecting at all!

It felt like a nightmare! You felt different already compared to your futurist coworkers, but now...to your fellow humans? Alchemax turned you into a freak! Who would bother to look at you now? What were you going to do now?!

"Ah, my dear (Y/N), how beautiful,"

---------

From the moment he laid eyes on you, Miguel knew that you were special. Call it fate, but Miguel just knew that you were meant to belong to him.

Miguel knew that he had to control himself. He didn't want to scare you after all. So, he started by stopping by your work. Bringing up small chat, getting to know you. Loving everything about you. Loving to find out new things about you.

When you weren't working, Miguel would follow you home as Spider-Man. He needed to protect you. Such a fragile human like yourself knew not of how to protect themselves. You were a target for people to pick on.

And who better to protect you than Miguel?

Miguel made sure that no man got near you. Every guy who even dared smile or tried to flirt with you disappeared. Everyone who dared give you a hard time, Miguel made sure they were taught a lesson.

The more Miguel got to know you, the more he became obsessed with you. You were perfect for him. His lovely little doll. Miguel made a special room for you in his place. Put everything you would like and even started to take some of your stuff.

This room was going to be yours very soon. That bed would be where Miguel will show you his love. Where you will conceive his child and become his wife. Your body and soul will belong to him.

Miguel knew you were short for cash. He knew that no one wanted to help a freak like you. It was a shame. Only Miguel knew how wonderful and kind you were. How amazing your lifestyle was and how this world was too naïve to embrace you.

So, Miguel thought of a plan. He watched as you accepted the offer from Alchemax and went to get your blood done. It made Miguel shudder as he watched you undress for the doctor, wanting to make sure that you were healthy for the test.

That body was only for Miguel to see, but he will let this slide since it was a woman doctor.

Once the experiment began, Miguel watched from the sidelines. He waited for his moment to swoop in and change the procedure. Why? Because Miguel was going to give you a reason to stay with him.

"What have you done?!" You cried out, sobbing at your new form.

The doctors and scientists panicked and fled to find some information and excuse for what went wrong. While Miguel stood in awe at your beautiful new form.

Your DNA was now mixed with that of a moth. You had large gorgeous wings and your hair had streaks of white. You were crotched down on the floor, sobbing as you tried to cover yourself from the bright lights.

"Ah, my dear (Y/N), how beautiful," Miguel couldn't help but say cheerfully as he approached you, "Don't cry (Y/N), it's going to be okay."

"M-Miguel? W-What are you doing here?" You sobbed quietly, covering your eyes, "I-It's so bright...I'm getting dizzy."

"Shh, I know. I know,"

Miguel was careful with your wings as he wrapped his arms around you. Your warmth was comforting. Your scent, better than he could ever imagine. Who better than to love you now than him?

"I know you're confused, but come with me. I'll take care of you."

---------

Miguel was true to his word. You had followed the man whom you had a crush on, scared for your new form. Miguel gently explained what happened, saying that it was an error on the scientists he watched over. Since it was under his watch, Miguel claimed to take responsibility for you.

You wanted to find it strange that Miguel already had a room for you, but you were too stressed to care. Your mind was all over the place and your body felt strange. The room was dark and cool. Much to your liking.

"(Y/N), I brought you some food." Miguel called out.

As he entered, he held up a small lantern, to which you felt drawn too. You pressed yourself against Miguel, wanting to reach for the light, but Miguel chuckled and brought you back to the bed. His hand stroked your cheek, placing the food on your dresser,

"You are so cute, (Y/N)," Miguel whispered, kissing your head. You hummed lowly,

"Why...are you so kind to me?"

"Ah," Miguel chuckled lowly as he held your hand, "Because I love you. We were meant for each other."

That sounded nice. Honestly, who would love you now as you were? Hell, who would even want anything to do with you now? You were part moth. At least now your gothic lifestyle matched your new look. Hell, it made your wings pop out more.

"Miguel...I...I um, I like you too."

-------

Yes.

YES!

Miguel could hardly control his laughter as you fell into the palm of his hand. Of course you loved him. You had no one else to turn too. No one else to help you.

Miguel made sure to keep you believing that you needed him. From helping you figure out your powers, to fucking you senselessly during the night and day.

Miguel gave you everything you wanted.

Just as long as you behaved and listen to everything he did and said. Miguel smiled as you approached him in the living room, showing off the new gothic attire he had bought for you. Doing a little spin, Miguel groaned softly as you let your wings spread.

"So beautiful." He hummed. You smiled, sitting on his lap,

"Miguel...could we go out? I want to fly for a bit," You begged.

Miguel just smiled as you waited for his response. You knew of his secret and made sure to not do anything he wouldn't like.

"Of course, baby, but I have to give you a good reminder on what to do and what not to do,"

You just nodded, smiling as Miguel pressed you against the couch. Your back to him as your wings were on full display. Miguel groaned softly as he held your waist, ready to give you some good reminders about going outside.

After all...

You were Miguel's.

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Def unique and different, so I hope you enjoyed!!!

[slut4evanpeters]

One Way or Another

pre death!tate langdon x reader

song i recommend listening to/based on: one way or another by blondie

warnings: stalking, obsession

word count: 673

notes: enjoy this drabble guys! i was listening to my blondie vinyl and immediately wrote this🙏

The final bell rings, echoing down the hallway like a calling card just for Tate. He slinks out of his last class, letting the bustling crowd swallow him up, using it as his cover. Everyone’s moving, laughing, jostling for the best spots on their bus rides home. No one sees him. No one ever does. Except maybe you.

You used to, at least.

It feels like years since your eyes last met his that once looked at him like he was more than just another lost kid at Westfield High. You were his other half, his better half. But now, you’re untouchable, one of the popular kids, adored, almost worshiped. And he… he’s left in the shadows, cast aside like a broken toy.

One way or another, he thinks, pushing through the swarm of bodies. He’s going to find you. You can’t stay hidden from him, not forever.

Tate steps outside, onto the cracked pavement of the school parking lot. His eyes dart around until they land on you, standing with a group of friends, laughing. That laugh—the one that once belonged to him, that’s now thrown freely at everyone but him.

There’s something unsettlingly perfect about you today. Maybe it’s the way the late afternoon sun hits your hair, giving it that halo effect, or the light wind tugging at your jacket, making you look like a vision from some golden dream. He can feel his chest tighten, his fingers twitch. You’re so close, but you’re untouchable. He doesn’t want to just look at you. He wants more. He wants everything.

When you finally get onto the bus, his heart quickens. He slips back into the crowd, just far enough behind to stay invisible but close enough to catch every turn of your head, every flicker of movement. He can’t sit still; his fingers clench and unclench. The desire to reach out, to grab you by the arm, tell you everything that’s twisting inside him, is almost overwhelming. But no, he needs to be patient. You'll come to him.

The bus pulls away, and he’s quick to his bike. Trailing it from a distance as it winds through the city, watching it move block by block. He knows the route by heart, knows where it’ll stop, where it’ll speed up. When you finally get off, you don’t even glance back. But Tate’s there, slipping through the streets, hiding in shadows.

You head into a convenience store, chatting with friends as you browse through rows of magazines and candy. Tate leans against a wall outside, waiting, listening to the buzz of a flickering neon light above him, the hum of his own thoughts mixing in with the static.

He watches as you and your friends move toward the bus stop again, laughing at some joke he’ll never know. The laughter twists something inside him. You used to laugh with him like that, let him in on your world. You were his girl, his muse. But now, it’s like he’s a stranger to you. And yet, he’s closer to you than anyone else. He knows every inch of this city, every shortcut, every street you walk down. He’s memorized your patterns, your quirks. He’s in your shadow, in the air you breathe.

When you get home, he watches from across the street, from under the shadow of a tree. The light in your bedroom flickers on, and he imagines you pulling off your coat, tossing it onto that same chair you always throw it on. He’s seen it through the window enough times to know.

Inside, you’re probably brushing your hair, maybe glancing out the window every now and then. Sometimes, he swears you look right at him. He feels that flicker of hope, the thrill that you might know he’s there, that you might want him to be.

The house goes dark. Tate feels his heart slow, his gaze lingering on your window. One day, you’ll see him again. One way or another, he’ll make sure of it. You’re his, and no one else’s.

[nextchae]

between the lines — choi yeonjun

word count: 9.8k

pairing: yeonjun x fem!reader

synopsis: Y/N and Yeonjun, two close friends who live together as roommates in the city, have a close friends with benefits/no-strings-attached relationship. As they navigate their individual careers—Y/N as a songwriter and Yeonjun as a choreographer—they struggle with unspoken feelings that simmer beneath the surface.

genre: friends with benefits to lovers, slight angst, miscommunication trope, light smut

The soft strum of guitar strings fills the dimly lit living room, the melody threading through the quiet apartment like a whisper. You sit on the worn couch, your notebook balanced on your knee, as you search for the right words. The familiar comfort of the space surrounds you—walls decorated with concert posters, a few scattered vinyl records, and the faint scent of coffee lingering in the air. It’s a place you’ve grown to call home, even if it started as just a convenience.

Two years. That’s how long it’s been since you and Yeonjun decided to split the rent on this place. What began as a practical solution—a way to save money while chasing your dreams in the city—soon turned into something more. The late-night talks, the shared meals, and the quiet moments between the rush of your lives somehow blurred the lines. You’re not quite sure when the shift happened, when friendship evolved into something more complicated, something without ties or titles. 

You moved to the city almost three years ago, fresh out of college and full of dreams of making it big as a songwriter. You’d always had a way with words, a knack for turning feelings into lyrics that resonated with people. Growing up, you’d spent hours writing songs in your bedroom, dreaming of the day when someone famous might sing them. But it wasn’t until you landed an internship at a small music label during your last year of college that you realized this could be more than just a dream.

The city was everything you’d hoped for—fast-paced, full of opportunities, and alive with the energy of people chasing their own dreams. You threw yourself into your work, writing day and night, determined to prove yourself. It wasn’t easy, and there were times when you wondered if you’d made the right choice, but you kept pushing forward. Music was your lifeline, your way of making sense of the world, and you couldn’t imagine doing anything else.

You met Yeonjun about a year after moving here. It was during one of those early-morning sessions at the company, both of you exhausted but still driven to keep working. You’d bonded over coffee and shared frustrations, finding comfort in each other’s company in a world that could often feel isolating. He’d been working as a choreographer for a few years by then, having moved to the city not long before you.

Yeonjun’s story is different from yours, but in some ways, it’s the same. He grew up in a small town, the kind where everyone knows each other, and where being different wasn’t always accepted. He’d always been drawn to dance, ever since he was a kid, but it wasn’t until he saw a hip-hop performance on TV that he realized it was something he could actually do. He taught himself at first, practicing in his room for hours until he could mimic the moves perfectly. But it wasn’t just about copying what he saw—he wanted to create something of his own, to express himself in a way that words never could.

After high school, he knew he had to leave if he wanted to pursue dance seriously. The city was the obvious choice, a place where he could be anonymous and free to chase his dreams without the weight of small-town expectations. It was hard at first—finding gigs, making a name for himself—but Yeonjun had always been determined. He took whatever jobs he could get, building a portfolio, until finally, he landed a position as a choreographer at the company where you both now work.

Yeonjun pours himself into his work in a way that’s both admirable and heartbreaking. He’s always been the type to push himself to the brink, to give everything he has to his art, even if it leaves him drained. It’s something you recognize in yourself, that same drive to create, to pour your heart and soul into your work until there’s nothing left. But where you find comfort in words, Yeonjun finds it in movement, in the physicality of dance. It’s his way of processing the world, of dealing with the things he can’t say out loud.

You pause, tapping the pen against your chin, lost in thought. The song you’re working on is different from the others. The lyrics feel too close to home, too revealing. You’ve always been good at keeping things casual, especially with Yeonjun, but this song? It’s like a confession you’re not ready to make.

The front door creaks open, and you look up to see Yeonjun entering, his shoulders slightly slouched, the exhaustion from hours of rehearsal evident in his posture. His hair is tousled, and there’s a light sheen of sweat on his skin, a testament to his dedication. He’s always been passionate about his work, throwing himself into every dance like it’s his last. It’s something you admire about him—his unwavering commitment to his craft, the way he’s able to express emotions through movement that you sometimes struggle to put into words.

“Long day?” you ask, setting the notebook aside as he drops his bag by the door and kicks off his shoes.

“Yeah,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair. “The new routine is killing me. But I think it’s finally coming together.”

You nod, watching him move across the room to the kitchen. He grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and takes a long drink before leaning against the counter, his gaze flickering to your notebook. “Still working on that song?”

“Trying to,” you admit, your voice tinged with frustration. “It’s not coming out the way I want it to.”

He raises an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “Can I hear it?”

You hesitate, your fingers brushing over the pages as if they might burn you. It’s not that you don’t trust Yeonjun; it’s just that this song feels too personal, too risky. But then again, he’s always been the one you could show your rough drafts to, the one who gets it without you having to explain. 

“Maybe later,” you say, offering a small smile to soften the refusal. He doesn’t push, just nods and crosses the room to sit beside you on the couch. The proximity is familiar, comforting in a way that you’ve grown used to but never quite gotten over.

Yeonjun stretches out, his arm resting on the back of the couch behind you, close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from his skin. It’s moments like these, when the world outside fades away, that you remember why this whole thing started. The physical connection, the ease of it—it’s always been so simple with him. No complications, no promises, just an understanding between two people who found something they both needed. 

“How was your day?” he asks, his voice low, as if to match the quiet of the room.

You shrug, leaning back against the cushions. “Just the usual. Worked on some lyrics, played around with a few melodies. Nothing groundbreaking.”

He smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling in that way that makes you wonder if he’s amused or just genuinely happy to be here with you. “You always say that, and then you come up with something amazing.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the small laugh that escapes you. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Choi.”

“Is that so?” His hand slides down from the back of the couch to rest lightly on your shoulder, a touch that’s more familiar than you’d care to admit. It’s not meant to be anything more than a casual gesture, but there’s a weight to it that neither of you acknowledge. 

You turn your head to look at him, your eyes meeting his. For a moment, the room feels smaller, the air thicker. You’ve had moments like this before—moments where you could swear there’s something unspoken between you, something more than just friendship or convenience. But just as quickly as it comes, the moment passes, and you’re left with the same comfortable silence that’s defined your relationship for so long.

“You hungry?” he asks, breaking the tension as he stands up and heads to the kitchen again. “I can make us something to eat.”

“Yeah, sure,” you reply, grateful for the distraction. You watch him move around the kitchen, the easy familiarity of it all reminding you of why this arrangement has worked so well for so long. 

It’s easy to fall into routine with Yeonjun. Easy to keep things as they are, without complicating them with feelings you’re not ready to confront. You’re close, closer than you’ve been with anyone else in a long time, but there’s a line you’ve both drawn that neither of you have dared to cross. At least, not yet.

But as you sit there, your notebook still open beside you, you can’t help but wonder how long you can keep pretending that what you have is enough. That the song you’re writing isn’t about him. That the feelings you’ve buried won’t eventually surface, demanding to be acknowledged.

You glance at Yeonjun, who’s now humming a tune as he chops vegetables, and you feel that familiar pang of uncertainty. He’s your friend, your roommate, your…whatever this is. But more than that, he’s become someone you can’t imagine your life without.

And that’s what scares you the most.

As the scent of food begins to fill the apartment, you pick up your pen and return to the lyrics, hoping that somehow, the right words will find you. But deep down, you know that this song—like everything else between you and Yeonjun—won’t be finished until you’re ready to face what’s really there.

Until then, you’ll keep writing, keep playing, and keep pretending that the notes between the lines don’t mean anything more than they should.

But you know better. And so does he.

Yeonjun's humming fills the small kitchen as he moves with practiced ease, his hands skillfully chopping vegetables while he sways to a beat only he can hear. You watch him from your spot on the couch, momentarily distracted from your lyrics. There's something calming about the way he moves, a rhythm in everything he does that makes you think he was born to dance.

You close your notebook and set it aside, deciding to give up on the song for now. The smell of sizzling garlic and onions begins to fill the air, making your stomach grow in anticipation. Yeonjun always jokes that he's not much of a cook, but you know better. He's not a gourmet chef, but there's something about the way he prepares a simple meal that makes it taste like home.

"Smells good," you say as you walk over to the kitchen, leaning against the counter beside him.

"Thanks," he replies, flashing you a grin.

"It'll be ready in a few minutes."

You nod, letting the silence between you stretch out comfortably. Moments like this are what you've grown to cherish-simple, unassuming, and yet filled with a sense of closeness that you don't often find elsewhere. It's not just about the physical connection; it's the ease of being in each other's company without the need for words.

When the food is ready, you both settle on the couch with plates in hand, the TV on but more for background noise than anything else. The meal is simple stir-fried vegetables with rice, but it's exactly what you need after a long day.

"You know," Yeonjun starts, his voice breaking through the quiet, "we should do this more often."

You glance at him, curious. "Do what?"

"Have dinner together. Talk. Just...hang out without any expectations."

You raise an eyebrow, a teasing smile playing on your lips. "Are you saying our usual arrangement has expectations?"

He chuckles, shaking his head. "You know what I mean. We're always so busy, and when we're not, well..." He trails off, but the implication is clear.

When you're not busy, you're usually in bed together, caught up in something that's more physical than anything else.

"Yeah," you admit softly, picking at your food. "I guess we could use more nights like this."

The conversation lulls after that, but it's not uncomfortable. Instead, it feels like something unspoken has settled between you, something that's been lingering for a while now. You finish eating and place your plate on the coffee table, leaning back against the couch with a contented sigh.

Yeonjun follows suit, setting his plate aside before stretching out beside you.

His arm brushes against yours, and though it's a simple touch, you feel a spark that you're not entirely sure how to ignore. You shift slightly, trying to create some space, but he's already there, his presence warm and familiar.

You've been here before-curled up on this couch, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from his body, the line between friendship and something more always blurred. But tonight, it feels different. There's an awareness in the air, a tension that neither of you seems willing to address.

Yeonjun's arm drapes over the back of the couch, his fingers brushing lightly against your shoulder. It's a touch that could be innocent, but the way your heart speeds up tells you otherwise. You glance at him, and he meets your gaze, his expression unreadable but intense.

"You're tense," he murmurs, his voice low, the words almost lost in the hum of the TV.

You force a smile, trying to downplay the sudden rush of nerves. "Just tired, I guess."

He doesn't reply, but his hand moves, his fingers tracing a light pattern along your shoulder, down your arm. It's such a simple touch, yet it sends a shiver through you, one that you try and fail — to hide. Your body reacts instinctively, leaning into his touch, your breath hitching slightly as his hand moves lower, grazing the side of your waist.

"Yeonjun.." You say his name softly, a warning that's half-hearted at best.

You've been here so many times before, and you know where this is heading, but something about tonight feels different.

There's an undercurrent of something more, something that makes your heart race in a way that it hasn't before.

"Hmm?" His hand pauses, his fingers resting lightly on your side, but he doesn't pull away. Instead, he shifts closer, his knee brushing against yours as he turns to face you. "Is this okay?"

The question hangs in the air, loaded with implications that neither of you dares to voice. It's not like he's never touched you like this before-in fact, you're all too familiar with the way his hands feel against your skin. But tonight, there's a hesitation in his voice, as if he's asking for something more than just permission to touch you.

You swallow, your mouth suddenly dry, as you nod. "Yeah, it's... it's fine."

He takes your word for it, his hand resuming its slow, deliberate path along your side. The sensation is maddeningly gentle, his fingertips barely grazing your skin, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. You feel the tension in your body ratchet up a notch, every nerve ending on high alert as he continues to explore.

Your own hand, almost as if acting on its own, moves to rest on his thigh, your fingers curling into the fabric of his sweatpants. It's a bold move, one that you might not have made if you weren't already teetering on the edge, but there's something about the way he's looking at you, something in his eyes that pulls you in, making it impossible to resist.

His breath hitches slightly at your touch, his eyes darkening as he shifts even closer, his body now pressed against yours. The hand on your waist tightens, pulling you toward him until there's no space left between you, his breath warm against your cheek.

"Y/N..." he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that sends a shiver down your spine. There's a question in the way he says your name, a plea that you're not sure you're ready to answer, but your body responds before your mind can catch up.

You lean into him, your lips brushing against his neck, the barest hint of a kiss, but it's enough to send a jolt of electricity through both of you. His hand slides lower, resting on your hip, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he pulls you onto his lap.

It's a familiar position, one you've found yourselves in more times than you can count, but tonight it feels different.

There's a desperation in the way he holds you, a need that's been simmering just below the surface for too long. You can feel it in the way his hands move over your body, in the way his breath quickens as your lips find their way to his jawline.

"Are we really doing this?" you whisper, your voice trembling with a mix of anticipation and uncertainty. You’re not sure why you even ask, you’ve been here so many times before, but something tonight feels different. Wrong.

He doesn't answer with words. Instead, his hand cups the back of your neck, pulling you in for a kiss that's as intense as it is unexpected. It's not the first time you've kissed him, but it feels like it might be the last time you can pretend this is just about physical need. There's something more behind the kiss, something that makes your heart race and your mind spin.

The kiss deepens, your hands tangling in his hair as you press closer, his body warm and solid beneath yours. His hands roam over your back, your waist, anywhere he can reach, and you find yourself responding in kind, your own hands exploring the familiar terrain of his body.

But as the kiss grows more heated, you realize that you're not just reacting to the physical sensation. There's an emotional undercurrent here, something that's been building for months, maybe even years, and now that it's finally bubbling to the surface, you're not sure how to handle it.

You pull back slightly, your breath coming in short gasps as you look into his eyes. There's a question in his gaze, one that mirrors your own uncertainty.

But there's also something else— something raw and unspoken that makes you want to throw caution to the wind. And for a moment, you're both frozen, caught in the limbo between friendship and something more, unsure of which way to go.

But then he's kissing you again, his lips urgent against yours, as if trying to drown out the uncertainty with the heat of the moment. And for now, you let him, because as much as you hate to admit it, you're not ready to face what this might really mean.

Not yet.

So you lose yourself in him, in the feel of his hands on your skin, in the way your bodies fit together like they were made for this. And you tell yourself that you'll figure it out later, that you can keep pretending a little while longer.

The sound of your footsteps echoes through the long, polished corridors of the company building as you make your way to the songwriting studios. The building is abuzz with activity, a hive of creativity where music is born, and you’ve spent countless hours here, pouring your heart into melodies and lyrics that others will one day sing.

Today, you’re scheduled to work with a team of producers and other songwriters on a new project, a high-profile debut that the company’s placing a lot of faith in. It’s a challenge, but one you’ve grown used to over the years. You’ve always thrived in environments where pressure and creativity intersect—where the need to deliver something extraordinary pushes you to your limits. But this morning, your mind isn’t fully on the task ahead. Instead, it keeps drifting back to last night, to the way Yeonjun’s touch lingered on your skin long after you’d untangled yourselves on the couch.

It’s always like this, the day after. A strange, awkward tension that hangs in the air between you, unspoken but undeniable. You’re close—closer than most friends—but there’s a fragility to your connection that neither of you seems willing to address. Last night’s kiss, the way he held you as if he was afraid you might slip away, only made things more complicated.

But that’s how it’s always been with Yeonjun. Complicated.

As you step into the studio, you push those thoughts aside, focusing on the task at hand. The room is already filled with the low hum of conversation, the team gathered around a table strewn with sheet music, laptops, and half-empty coffee cups. 

“Y/N! Right on time,” one of the producers, Sejin, greets you with a smile. He’s well respected in the industry, someone you’ve worked with before, and his easy-going nature helps put you at ease.

“Morning,” you reply, forcing a smile as you take a seat. “What are we working on today?”

“Just going over the latest drafts for the new group,” Sejin explains, handing you a stack of lyric sheets. “We’ve got a few solid tracks, but we’re still missing that one song to really set them apart.”

You nod, scanning the lyrics quickly before glancing up at the others around the table. They’re all talented in their own right, but you’ve always felt a bit like an outsider in these sessions. You’re used to writing alone, letting the words flow naturally without the constraints of collaboration. It’s not that you can’t work with others—it’s just that your process is different, more introspective, and sometimes that doesn’t mesh well with the fast-paced, team-oriented environment here.

Still, you dive into the work, offering suggestions, tweaking melodies, and trying to find that perfect line that will tie everything together. Hours pass in a blur of creativity, the familiar rush of crafting something new temporarily pushing aside the thoughts of Yeonjun and the tangled mess of feelings you’re trying to sort through.

But as the session winds down, you find yourself distracted once again, your mind wandering back to him. You can’t help but wonder how his day is going, if he’s still working on that new choreography he mentioned last night. You’ve always admired his dedication to his craft, the way he can lose himself in the rhythm, his body moving like it’s an extension of the music itself. It’s something you’ve never quite understood—how he can express so much through movement, while you rely on words to convey your emotions.

“Y/N?” Sejin’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts. “You with us?”

“Yeah, sorry,” you say quickly, shaking your head to clear it. “Just thinking about something.”

He gives you a knowing look but doesn’t press the issue. “Alright, let’s wrap it up for today. We’ll pick this up again tomorrow.”

You nod, gathering your things and heading for the door, but your thoughts are already elsewhere. As you step into the hallway, your feet seem to move on their own, leading you in the direction of the dance studios rather than the exit.

You tell yourself it’s just curiosity—just checking in to see how he’s doing—but deep down, you know it’s more than that. You want to see him, to feel that connection again, even if it’s tinged with the awkwardness that always seems to follow you both the day after.

The closer you get to the dance studios, the more you can hear the faint thump of bass reverberating through the walls, the rhythm quickening your pulse. You pause outside one of the rooms, peering through the small window in the door, and there he is—Yeonjun, completely lost in the music.

He’s dressed in loose sweatpants and a tank top, his skin glistening with sweat as he moves with an intensity that takes your breath away. His movements are sharp, precise, each one flowing into the next with a grace that seems almost effortless. But you know better. You know how hard he works, how much of himself he pours into every step, every beat.

You watch, captivated, as he goes through the routine over and over, his expression focused, his body pushing past the point of exhaustion. It’s mesmerizing, the way he moves—so different from the way you create. While you spend hours hunched over a notebook, searching for the right words, he’s here, expressing everything with the fluidity of his body, the music coursing through him like a second heartbeat.

And yet, for all your differences, there’s something that draws you to him, something that makes you want to understand him better, even if you’re not sure how.

Eventually, he spots you, his movements slowing as he catches his breath. He meets your gaze through the glass, and for a moment, neither of you moves. Then he raises a hand, beckoning you in, his expression softening into something you can’t quite read.

You push open the door and step inside, the sound of the music now louder, vibrating through your chest. The air is thick with the smell of sweat and the faint scent of his cologne, familiar and comforting.

“Hey,” he says, his voice hoarse from exertion. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Just finished up in the studio,” you reply, trying to keep your tone casual. “Thought I’d see how you were doing.”

He nods, grabbing a towel from the floor and wiping the sweat from his face. There’s a moment of silence, the kind that usually doesn’t exist between you, but today it feels heavier, weighted by everything left unsaid.

“How’s the choreography coming along?” you ask, breaking the silence.

He shrugs, a small, self-deprecating smile tugging at his lips. “It’s… getting there. Still needs some work.”

You nod, unsure of what to say next. Things are always a little awkward the day after, like you’re both trying to find your footing again, unsure of where you stand. You’re close, but not in the way most people would define it, and that makes everything more complicated.

“Do you want to see it?” he asks suddenly, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of hope and vulnerability that you’re not used to seeing from him.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” you reply, surprised at how much you mean it.

He nods again, then steps back to the center of the room, his focus shifting as the music starts up again. You move to the side, leaning against the mirrored wall as you watch him begin the routine from the top.

This time, you’re not just watching the choreography. You’re watching him—the way his body moves, the way he expresses emotions without a single word. There’s a passion in his movements, a dedication that you can’t help but admire. It’s so different from the way you create, but in a way, it’s the same. You both pour your hearts into your work, channeling your emotions into something that can be shared with others. 

But while you’ve always been careful to keep a certain distance from the songs you write, Yeonjun dives in headfirst, letting the music consume him. It’s one of the things that draws you to him, even as it scares you. You’re afraid of getting too close, of letting yourself feel too much, but Yeonjun? He’s not afraid of anything. At least, that’s how it seems.

As he finishes the routine, he turns to you, his chest rising and falling with labored breaths, a sheen of sweat making his skin glisten under the fluorescent lights. “What do you think?” he asks, his voice breathless but filled with a quiet intensity.

You take a moment to find your words, still processing everything you’ve just seen. “It’s incredible, Yeonjun. Really. The way you move… it’s like you’re telling a story with your body.”

He laughs softly, wiping his forehead with the towel again. “That’s the idea, I guess. Trying to say something without words.”

You nod, understanding more than you’d like to admit. It’s what you both do, in your own ways—expressing the things that are too difficult to say out loud.

The silence stretches between you again, but this time it’s different. There’s a sense of understanding, a shared recognition of what you’ve both just experienced. And yet, there’s still that underlying awkwardness, the unspoken tension that lingers from the night before.

“Thanks for coming by,” he says after a while, his voice softer, more subdued. “It means a lot.”

“Of course,” you reply, giving him a small smile. “I should probably get going, though. Got more work to do.”

“Yeah, same here,” he agrees, but neither of you moves.

You stand there for a moment longer, caught in the liminal space between what you are and what you could be, before finally turning to leave.

“Y/N,” he calls out just as you reach the door.

You pause, your hand hovering over the handle as you turn back to him. There’s something in his eyes, something vulnerable and raw, that makes your heart ache in a way you’re not sure how to deal with.

“See you tonight?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah,” you say softly, your chest tightening with the weight of what’s left unsaid. “See you tonight.”

The next few weeks pass in a blur of deadlines, rehearsals, and late-night studio sessions. The company is buzzing with the excitement of upcoming debuts, and both you and Yeonjun are caught in the whirlwind. You spend hours hunched over your notebook, scribbling lyrics in the margins of sheet music, tweaking melodies until they’re just right. Meanwhile, Yeonjun is locked in the dance studio, pushing his body to its limits as he fine-tunes his choreography, each movement meticulously crafted to tell the story he’s been envisioning.

You see less and less of him during the day, your schedules barely overlapping. When you do cross paths, it’s usually in the early hours of the morning, when the world is quiet, and the company building is almost empty. You’ll find him in the kitchen, downing a glass of water after a long session, or he’ll find you sprawled on the couch, half-asleep with your notebook balanced precariously on your lap.

But despite the distance growing between you, the nights you do spend together seem to grow more intense. It’s as if the time apart makes the moments you have all the more precious, and when you finally fall into each other’s arms, it’s with a hunger that neither of you can quite explain. You’ll reach for him, or he’ll reach for you, and suddenly, you’re tangled up together, the world outside forgotten.

These nights are different from before. There’s a tenderness in the way he touches you now, a lingering softness that wasn’t there before. He kisses you like he’s trying to memorize every inch of you, his hands tracing patterns on your skin that leave you breathless. You find yourself reaching for him in the dark, needing the reassurance of his presence more than you’d like to admit.

But when the morning comes, the spell is broken. You both slip back into your respective roles, burying yourselves in your work, pretending that nothing has changed. Yet, you can’t shake the feeling that something has—that the lines between what you are and what you could be are beginning to blur.

But no matter how close you get, there’s always a part of you that holds back. You’re afraid to let yourself fall too hard, to risk the friendship you’ve built. And Yeonjun… well, he’s never been one to talk about his feelings. He’s always been the type to show rather than tell, to let his actions speak for him. But there are moments—brief, fleeting moments—when you catch a glimpse of something deeper in his eyes, something that makes your heart skip a beat.

It’s in the way he holds you a little tighter when you’re falling asleep, or the way his gaze lingers on you just a second too long when he thinks you’re not looking. It’s in the small, almost imperceptible shifts in his behavior, the way he’s always there when you need him, even if he doesn’t say much. You’re not sure what it means, or if it even means anything at all, but it’s enough to keep you hoping.

You can’t remember the last time you let yourself relax. Between the relentless grind of work and the complicated emotions swirling around Yeonjun, you’ve been wound so tight it feels like you might snap at any moment. So when Sejin, a fellow songwriter you’ve grown close to over the last few months, suggests a night out, you don’t hesitate.

“We deserve this,” Sejin says with a grin as you and a few others from your team gather at a bar downtown. It’s one of those places that feels both cozy and chaotic, dimly lit with just the right amount of noise to drown out any lingering stress. You order a round of drinks, clinking glasses as laughter and conversation fill the space around you.

At first, it’s easy to fall into the rhythm of the night. You chat with your coworkers, swapping stories about the latest projects, the occasional frustrations, and the little victories that keep you all going. The alcohol helps—loosening your tongue, easing the tension in your shoulders. You’re smiling more than you have in weeks, the weight of your responsibilities slipping away with each sip.

Sejin is by your side most of the night, always quick with a joke or a refill. He’s been a good friend since you started working together, the kind of guy who can make you laugh no matter how rough your day’s been. Tonight, though, there’s something different in the way he’s acting. He’s hovering closer, his touches lingering just a little too long—a hand on your shoulder, an arm around your waist as he pulls you into another laugh.

You try not to think about it too much, telling yourself it’s just the alcohol making you notice things that aren’t really there. Besides, you’re enjoying yourself, and you need this distraction. It’s a welcome reprieve from the complicated mess you and Yeonjun have created, a chance to remember who you are outside of the endless cycle of work and the tension that’s been brewing between you.

But as the night wears on, the drinks keep coming, and before you know it, you’re a lot drunker than you intended to be. The bar is spinning, your words slurring as you lean on Sejin for support. He laughs, though there’s a strange edge to it, and before you can protest, he’s leading you out into the cool night air.

“Let’s get you home, yeah?” he says, his voice sounding both far away and too close at the same time.

You nod, though your mind is hazy. The streets blur together as Sejin hails a cab, his arm still around you as you slide into the back seat. Your head lolls back against the seat, your thoughts drifting to Yeonjun—how you’ve barely seen him this week, how you miss him in a way that’s starting to hurt. You wonder if he’s home, if he’s even noticed you’ve been gone.

The cab ride is a blur, and before you know it, Sejin is helping you up the stairs to your apartment. You fumble with the keys, giggling as they slip through your fingers, and Sejin chuckles, taking them from you to unlock the door. The moment the door swings open, you stumble inside, barely registering the figure sitting on the couch until you hear his voice.

“Y/N?”

Yeonjun’s tone is sharp, cutting through the fog in your mind. You turn to face him, swaying slightly as you take in the sight of him—hair tousled, eyes dark as they flicker between you and Sejin.

“Hey, Yeonjun,” you mumble, your words tumbling out in a slur. “Didn’t know you’d be home.”

Sejin clears his throat, his hand still on your arm. “I, uh, brought her back. She had a little too much to drink.”

“Clearly,” Yeonjun mutters, standing up. There’s something in his expression that you can’t quite place, something that makes your stomach twist in a way that has nothing to do with the alcohol. “You didn’t have to go out of your way.”

Sejin’s grip on your arm tightens ever so slightly. “It’s no trouble. Just wanted to make sure she got home safe.”

Yeonjun takes a step closer, and for a moment, the air between them crackles with something tense and unspoken. You’re too drunk to fully understand what’s going on, but even in your foggy state, you can sense the shift in the atmosphere. 

“I’ll take it from here,” Yeonjun says, his voice firm, leaving no room for argument.

Sejin hesitates, his eyes flicking to you before he finally lets go of your arm. “Alright. Take care, Y/N,” he says, his tone softer as he gives you a final look, something unreadable in his gaze before he nods at Yeonjun and heads out the door.

The silence that follows is heavy, wrapping around you as Yeonjun closes the door behind him. You stumble toward the couch, dropping onto it with a huff. Your head is spinning, and your thoughts are a mess, but even through the haze, you can feel the tension rolling off of Yeonjun in waves.

“You didn’t have to be so rude,” you mumble, your eyes half-lidded as you look up at him. “Sejin was just being nice.”

Yeonjun lets out a humorless laugh, running a hand through his hair. “Nice, huh? Looked like he was being a little too nice.”

You frown, not understanding what he means. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He doesn’t answer right away, his jaw clenching as he looks away, his hands balling into fists at his sides. You’ve never seen him like this before, so tightly wound, like he’s holding back something he doesn’t want to admit.

“It means,” he finally says, his voice low and strained, “that I didn’t like seeing his hands all over you.”

His words hit you like a bucket of cold water, jolting you out of your drunken stupor just enough to understand what he’s saying. You stare at him, your heart pounding in your chest, your mind racing to catch up.

“You’re jealous?” you ask, disbelief coloring your tone.

Yeonjun’s eyes flash with something raw and vulnerable before he looks away, shaking his head. “I don’t know,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. “Maybe I am. I just didn’t like it.”

You blink, trying to process what he’s saying. The Yeonjun you know is always calm, always in control. Seeing him like this, so unguarded and honest, throws you off balance. But there’s a part of you that’s been waiting for something like this, something real and undeniable to break through the wall that’s been growing between you.

You push yourself up from the couch, your legs shaky as you close the distance between you. You reach out, your fingers brushing against his, and he looks down at you, his eyes searching yours for something you’re not sure you can give him.

“I don’t want him, Yeonjun,” you say softly, your voice steadier now. “I don’t want anyone else.”

His breath hitches, and for a moment, you think he might say something, but then he’s pulling you into his arms, holding you close like he’s afraid to let go. You melt into him, the warmth of his body grounding you, the steady beat of his heart in your ear.

The moment is tender, intimate in a way that feels different from all the times before. It’s not about the physical connection this time; it’s about something deeper, something that neither of you has been willing to acknowledge until now.

“You’re drunk,” he murmurs into your hair, his voice soft but laced with something that sounds like regret. “We should talk about this when you’re sober.”

You nod, your head heavy against his chest. “Okay,” you whisper, your eyes fluttering shut as exhaustion finally takes over. “But don’t go.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promises, his voice the last thing you hear as you drift off to sleep, safe in his arms.

The days following that night out are a blur of awkward silences and strained conversations. You’ve decided to keep your distance from Yeonjun, convinced that if you ignore the unresolved tension, it might just go away. It’s not easy—every time you pass him in the apartment or bump into him in the hallway, there’s an unspoken barrier between you that feels impossible to breach.

You’re confused and frustrated by him and what you can remember of that night. Angered by his idea that he has a right to be jealous over you and your own life when he has made it quite painfully clear that you only fit into a certain part of his. 

Deep down, you’re scared too. Scared that finally speaking the unspoken will completely ruin what you have with him right now. At least, some part of him is better than nothing. 

At work, you throw yourself into your projects with renewed fervor. The music studio becomes your refuge, the rhythmic pounding of your work echoing the unspoken rift in your personal life. You throw yourself into your songwriting, pouring all your frustration and confusion into your lyrics, trying to keep your mind off Yeonjun and what happened.

Your interactions with Yeonjun have become sparse and awkward. When you do talk, it’s about mundane things—what’s for dinner, when you’ll be home, or whether the groceries have been restocked. The warmth that once colored your conversations has evaporated, leaving behind a cold, professional distance. Yeonjun seems to sense the shift, though he doesn’t push. He glances at you with a mix of concern and frustration, but you avoid his gaze, determined not to confront what’s clearly between you.

One evening, as you return from a particularly long day at the studio, you find yourself yearning for the comfort of your apartment. But when you step into the kitchen, you’re met with an unexpected sight: Yeonjun is sitting at the table, flipping through your notebook.

Your heart sinks as you realize that the notebook in his hands is the one where you’ve been jotting down lyrics—lyrics that are deeply personal and mirror the turmoil you’ve been feeling. Panic surges through you as you stride over and snatch the notebook from him.

“What- what are you doing!” you demand, your voice trembling despite your attempt to sound composed.

Yeonjun looks up, surprise etched on his face. “I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s not for you to read,” you cut him off, clutching the notebook to your chest. “That’s private.”

He raises his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I saw it on the table and was curious. I didn’t realize it was… personal.”

“It is,” you snap, your frustration boiling over. “It’s personal, and it’s not for you to go through.”

Yeonjun stands up, his posture tense. “I wasn’t trying to invade your privacy. I just saw it and didn’t think. I mean, I thought it was just work…”

“You didn’t think,” you say, your voice rising. “That’s the problem. You never think about boundaries. This is more than just work to me!”

Yeonjun’s expression shifts from surprise to something harder, a mix of hurt and frustration. “I was trying to understand. Things have been off between us, and I thought maybe this would help.”

Your heart pounds as you realize the weight of his words, but you can’t bring yourself to fully acknowledge them. Instead, you feel the sting of his presence and the awkwardness of your failed attempts to keep things from getting complicated.

“You don’t need to understand through my work,” you say, your voice wavering. “If you want to talk, talk. But don’t read my lyrics and think you’ve got it all figured out.”

Yeonjun’s shoulders slump as he looks away, a silent admission of defeat. You feel a pang of guilt, but it’s quickly overshadowed by your own frustration and confusion.

“I need some space,” you say finally, your voice quieter now. “I’m going to stay with a friend tonight.”

Yeonjun’s eyes meet yours, a flicker of something unspoken passing between you. For a moment he looks as if he’s going to reach out and touch you, and in that same moment you realize you would’ve done nothing to stop him. But instead he just nods, but his expression remaining guarded. “Alright,” he says, his tone low. “I’ll be here when you get back.”

You grab a few essentials from your room and head for the door, unwelcome tears burning hot on your cheeks. You hope Yeonjun doesn’t notice as you rush out of your small apartment and down through the lobby into the outside night, the chill of the evening air a welcome distraction from the emotional storm inside you. As you make your way to your friend’s place, the city streets feel both unfamiliar and oddly comforting. The argument has left you feeling exposed, like you’ve revealed more than you intended.

When you arrive at your friend’s apartment, you sink into their couch, trying to push the thoughts of Yeonjun and the argument from your mind. But even as you try to relax, the weight of the unresolved tension between you lingers, a reminder of the delicate balance you’ve been struggling to maintain.

You fear that by distancing yourself, you might be pushing Yeonjun away for good. The thought of losing him entirely—of having to navigate your feelings alone—makes your heart ache. Yet, the walls you’ve built around yourself feel like the only protection you have against the complexity of your emotions and the uncertainty of what comes next.

You and Yeonjun manage to skirt around each other all the next day of work, maintaining a silence that’s louder than words. You work diligently, each interaction with Yeonjun marked by a careful neutrality. The emotional distance between you is palpable, and you both seem to be operating under a new, unspoken rule of non-interference.

As the workday winds down, you grab your things and head out, relieved to be done for the day. Sejin catches up with you as you leave the building. His presence is a welcome distraction, and you engage in casual conversation as you both walk toward the sidewalk.

Sejin has always been friendly, but lately, there’s been an undercurrent of something more. Today, as you both make your way out of the building, he seems unusually nervous. You sense a change in his demeanor as he stumbles over his words, clearly building up to something important.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you,” Sejin begins, his voice filled with a hesitant earnestness. “I’ve really enjoyed working with you, and over the past few months, I’ve developed feelings for you. I’ve been wanting to ask you out for a while now. How would you feel about going to dinner with me sometime?”

The question takes you by surprise. Your heart races as you process Sejin’s confession. You’ve noticed his growing interest, but you didn’t expect him to be so direct. Panic rises within you as you try to formulate a response that will be both honest and gentle.

“Well, Sejin,” you start, searching for the right words, “I appreciate your honesty and I’m flattered. But right now, I’ve–I’ve just got a lot going on, and I don’t think I’m ready to start something new.”

Before Sejin can respond, a shadow falls over the two of you. You glance up and see Yeonjun standing a few feet away, his face a storm of emotions. His eyes dart between you and Sejin, and his body language reveals a barely contained frustration. 

Without a word, Yeonjun brushes past you, his stride forceful and his shoulders tense. He makes a beeline for the exit, leaving you and Sejin standing in the wake of his departure. The tension in the air is palpable, and you watch Yeonjun’s retreating figure with a mixture of confusion and concern.

Sejin glances between you and the direction Yeonjun has gone, his face a mix of disappointment and concern. “Is everything okay?” he asks, his tone gentle.

You nod, trying to mask your unease. “Yeah, I think so. I just need to make sure Yeonjun’s alright. I’m sorry, Sejin. Can we talk about this another time?”

Sejin nods, trying to convey a look of understanding in his eyes. “Sure, yeah. I’ll, uh, I’ll see you tomorrow Y/N.”

With that, you turn and hurry after Yeonjun, your heart pounding in your chest. You navigate through the bustling city streets, your mind racing as you try to catch up with him. You call his name several times, but he’s already a few blocks ahead. 

As you round the corner toward the park where you often walk, you see Yeonjun’s silhouette up ahead, walking briskly. You quicken your pace, calling out to him once more. “Yeonjun! Please, wait!”

He doesn’t turn around, and as you get closer, you can see the tension in his posture. The streetlights cast long shadows, and the cool evening air feels heavy with unspoken words. You reach the park entrance just in time to see Yeonjun disappear around a corner, his figure retreating into the darkness.

Breathless and frustrated, you stop at the park entrance, your hands resting on your knees as you try to catch your breath. The realization hits you like a punch to the gut—Yeonjun’s already gone. The distance between you seems insurmountable, and the weight of the day’s events settles heavily on your shoulders.

You take a moment to compose yourself, your heart aching with a mix of regret and confusion. The conversation you had with Sejin, Yeonjun’s reaction, and the unresolved tension all swirl together in a confusing mess. You can’t shake the feeling that you’ve made a mistake, that you’ve pushed Yeonjun away without fully understanding the consequences.

You hurry back to the apartment, your steps echoing on the pavement as you rush to get home. The anxiety you feel is almost tangible, and your heart pounds in your chest. The tension from the earlier confrontation and the sight of Yeonjun walking away have left you feeling desperate to make things right.

As you fumble with your keys at the apartment door, your hands are shaky, and you finally manage to get it open. You practically burst inside, the cool air of the hallway a sharp contrast to the heat of your emotions. Without thinking, you head straight for Yeonjun’s room, your mind racing with fear and determination.

The door is closed, and you knock on it urgently, your voice trembling as you call out. “Yeonjun! Please, open the door! We need to talk!”

There’s no immediate response, and your anxiety grows. You knock harder, the sound of your fists hitting the wood echoing through the quiet apartment. “Yeonjun! Please, let me in!”

After what feels like an eternity, the door finally creaks open. Yeonjun stands there, his face streaked with tears, and the sight leaves you momentarily stunned. Your own tears well up as you take in his tear-streaked face, the raw emotion evident in his red eyes.

“Yeonjun…” you say softly, reaching up to touch his cheek and gently wipe away the wetness. The gesture feels like a small balm against the intense emotional turbulence between you.

He looks at you with a mix of sadness and frustration, his voice cracking as he speaks. “I heard everything. I’ve been hearing around the company that Sejin’s liked you for a while and was planning to ask you out. And it just… it drove me crazy, thinking that I let someone else get to you before I did.”

He pauses, his breath hitching as he tries to gather his composure. “I don’t know when it started. Maybe from the first time I saw you or the first night we spent together here, I just, just didn’t think I could stand to be apart from you anymore. But I was a coward, hiding behind all that talk of ‘no titles’ until it made myself sick, but not as sick as the thought of losing you. So I just held out, and I was selfish to be jealous of you and Sejin but I just, I just–.”

His words spill out in a jumble, and you can see the pain in his eyes. The fear and regret in his voice cut through you, and you realize the depth of his feelings and the extent of his struggle. It’s a painful revelation, but one that brings clarity to the confusion of the past few weeks.

“Yeonjun,” you say, shaking your head as you interrupt him, “I’m sorry too. My new song,” you begin, throat dry at beginning your confession. “The lyrics, they were about you. And us. I freaked out when I saw you reading them because I didn’t want you to know that’s how I really felt, really feel about you.”

Yeonjun’s eyes widen, and he seems momentarily taken aback. “Your lyrics… they were about me?”

You nod, your voice trembling as you continue. “Yes. I didn’t know how to tell you. I was scared too—scared of how you’d react, scared of losing you if things went wrong. I thought keeping things as they were would be easier, but it only made things worse.”

Yeonjun reaches out, taking your hands in his, his grip firm but gentle. “I never meant to hurt you.”

Tears spill down your cheeks, mingling with his as you both stand there, emotions raw and exposed. The vulnerability in this moment is overwhelming, but it’s also a relief. For the first time, you feel like you’re both truly seen and heard.

“I don’t want to hide anymore,” you say, your voice soft but resolute.

Yeonjun nods, his eyes searching yours. You both stand there in the quiet of Yeonjun’s room, holding each other and allowing the weight of the past to slowly lift.

The quiet of Yeonjun's room wraps around you both, a cocoon of stillness that contrasts sharply with the whirlwind of emotions you're both feeling. 

And then his hands are on you again, for the first time again in what feels like an eternity, but for the first time that it really feels like they should be.

The intensity of the moment lingers as you continue to hold each other, the weight of unspoken feelings finally coming to light.

Yeonjun's eyes search yours with a mixture of vulnerability and longing. His hand, still holding yours, gently rubs the back of your hand with his thumb. The small, tender gesture speaks volumes, and you can feel the tension between you start to shift.

"I've missed this," Yeonjun murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. "I've missed being close to you, in every way."

You take a deep breath, your heart racing as you feel the same pull. The barriers between you have crumbled, leaving only the raw, honest emotions that have been building up for so long.

Without thinking, you lean in, closing the space between you.

Yeonjun's lips meet yours in a kiss that is soft at first, almost tentative, as if he's testing the waters. But as the kiss deepens, the hesitance fades, replaced by a consuming need to connect. His arms wrap around you, pulling you closer, and you respond eagerly, your hands finding their way to his hair and the back of his neck.

The kiss grows more passionate, the intensity of your emotions reflected in every touch and movement. Yeonjun's hands slide down your back, tracing the curves of your body with a reverent touch that sends shivers down your spine. You can feel the heat between you, the longing that has been simmering under the surface, finally being expressed in a physical, tangible way.

As the kiss breaks, both of you are breathless, your foreheads resting against each other. Yeonjun's eyes are filled with a mixture of desire and tenderness. 

And in one swift movement, he pulls you to his bed until you’re pinned underneath him. His hands roam over your body, exploring with a mix of urgency and reverence. Each touch is a declaration, a way of expressing the feelings that words have failed to capture.

His long fingers trail teasingly under your top, feeling their way, as they have done countless times before, until they reach your aching breasts. 

You find yourself lost in the sensation of his hands on your skin, the way he touches you with both confidence and care. The intimacy between you is electric, each caress and kiss further dissolving the barriers that had once kept you apart.

His hands seemed to have acted on their own, ripping your shirt off and taking not much longer to unclasp your bra. You find this an invitation and an opening to pull his own shirt off, your palms roaming eagerly against his now bare and slightly sweaty chest.

A smirk rises to his lips as he moves downwards, lazily pulling at your underwear from under your skirt. Your back arches in response, a whimper escaping your lips.

“Jun… please,” you whine, begging to feel him between your shaking legs.

“So needy,” he teases, eyes dark as he removes the rest of his clothes. You do the same, and he hovers over you instantaneously, an unfamiliar yet pleased smile curved onto his lips. 

And then he’s inside of you and your mind is swimming in a sea of pleasure and blissfulness. You’re tangled in each other and for once you don’t feel bad about it or have the lingering feeling that guilt will begin creeping in anytime soon. You feel right now that you’re exactly where you need to be. 

After a while you both settle onto the bed, the kisses become slower, yet your hands still exploring each other's bodies with a desperate need. Yeonjun's touch is both tender and passionate, his hands moving over you with a sense of awe and longing. You respond in kind, your hands tracing the contours of his body, savoring the feel of him beneath your fingertips.

The world outside melts away, leaving only the connection you share in this moment. The passion and emotion that have been building up between you finally find their release, and the bed becomes a haven where you both can express the depth of your feelings.

As you both finally come to rest, entwined in each other's arms, the room is filled with a quiet sense of peace. The kisses and touches have given way to a gentle, lingering closeness, and the weight of the past seems to lift, leaving only the promise of a new beginning.

Thank you for reading! I had a lot of drafts saved so I’ve been posting them over the past few days!

[yeonlogic]

★ baby be mine ⋆｡°✩

PAIRING bestfriend!gyu + f!reader GENRE/WARNINGS fluff, crack, friends to lovers au, gyu works in a vinyl shop, gyu gets friendzoned woopsies, mild swearing, semi smau reader is friends with chaewon & kazuha from lsrfm

SYNOPSIS you and gyu have been friends since you first saw each other at school and now your starting to develop feelings for him

wc: around 3k?

“are you done picking out a vinyl you want or what” beomgyu complained looking at you look through the compartment full of vinyls

“yeah yeah whatever, you work here anyway im sure the owner wont mind you closing up the shop late” you said as you took a look around the cd section thinking about whether you should get a cd or a vinyl.

“okay uhm I decided Im not getting anything” you chuckled nervously looking at beomgyu knowing he would say something about it

“yah you cant just spend hours looking at the shop for around 3hours and not picking anything!?” he frowned “okay okay Im sorry ill make it up to you and help you close down the shop.”

you two started closing down the shop together. as you two finished you took a look at the city in the night admiring how it looked.

“your still walking me home right..?” you said turning to him as he was locking up the shop door “yeah I always do cuz your scared of those weirdos who would come after you” he teased “well Its not my fault its scary, what if a random guy chases me or something” your voice had a hint of worry and nervousness as you said that, gyu walked up to you by your side “Its alright ill be your night and shining armor” beomgyu said jokingly “now come on its getting late.”

you two walked the streets together your hands shoved In the pocket of your hoodie, it was cold freezing cold.

“hey if you have the time you should teach me how to use the guitar” you nudged his shoulder with yours looking at him with a smile on your face, “how about tomorrow? If you can” he chuckled “also your shivering a lot.. is it that cold..?” he grabbed your wrist stopping you from walking away as he took his jacket off and draped It on your shoulders, your heart was beating from how close he was to you, you were so used to him being close to you all the time but why was this one different?

you felt your cheeks heat up a bit but you didnt worry about it too much. “thanks..” you murmured, his jacket was warm enough to block the cold, “dont mention it” he replied as you two continued to walk back to your home.

“thanks for walking me back home gyu” you smiled and gave him a hug, “also here you should take your jacket back” you took it off as beomgyu stopped you from doing it “no keep it, it looks better on you” he laughed softly “ill see you tomorrow?” “mhm” you replied as you entered your house going into your room.

you dropped onto your bed looking up at the ceiling confused about what you were feeling at that moment gyu gave you his jacket that was now wrapped around your torso.

you grabbed your phone from your pocket and opened the messages app.

you turned off your phone and placed it on your bedside table, you felt confused why were you feeling these random butterflies in your stomach whenever you think about beomgyu oh god “THE FUCKING HEART?!?!?” you screamed into your pillow “okay clam down maybe its just a platonic gesture calm down and just sleep this through.” you muttered to yourself as you layed down on your bed.

you were In a cafe with chaewon since everyone from school was on school break so you both decided to hang out today

“ugh Im so glad were on break right now i think I would’ve passed out if the teacher gave us any more test papers” she ranted and complained while you were zoned out lost in your thoughts about last night.

“y/n?, helloo earth to y/n!?, Y/N!!!” chae snapped at you “huh?” you replied “girl did you even listen to what I was saying” “uh yeah ofc”

“then what did I say?” one of her eyebrow was raised up “uhm that you wanted that bag you saw?” chaewon looked at you

“seriously y/n whats got you acting so weird this day” chaewon stared at you while sipping her iced coffee, “honestly I dont even know Its just something about last night..” you said nervously “tell me, maybe I can do something about it”

“promise me you wont laugh..?” “duhh.”

“Its just I never knew I’d look at my bestfriend differently, you know beomgyu right?” “yeah the one who works at the vinyl shop down town right” chaewon replied

“yeah.. well uhm I was with him last night and he walked me home but its something about the way he saw I was freezing and gave me his jacket— but I mean its not even that romantic Its the part where he put the jacket on me he was so..close something about that just felt so different to me because Im so used to being close with him all the time but it was just that one moment that made me realize maybe I have feelings for him..?” you sighed and covered your face with your hands “chaeeee what do I dooo” you pleaded feeling embarrassed to talk about this to your girl bestfriend

“Look as much as I dont know shit about love I can tell you definitely have feelings for him I mean.. you two were friends since 8th grade till now you two are technically inseparable” she shrugged “I guess..maybe If i just ignore him for the whole week maybe he wont notice that I have feelings for him??” “idk girl im sorry but I dont know what to do.”

6:22 PM

you arrived at the vinyl shop where you could see gyu standing at the cash register as you entered the shop and approached him.

“hey gyu um..we might have to cancel that guitar lesson since Im gonna be busy this day” you smiled nervously at him hoping he wouldn’t ask you why or what your gonna do. “oh alright..” he said, you could feel a bit of sadness from his voice and you felt bad because of it, “maybe next time?” you said as you left the shop feeling guilty.

beomgyu went home to his shared apartment with his friends as he saw soobin and hueningkai playing a videogame together on the couch, gyu approached them and grabbed the tv remote and turned It off and sat Inbetween the two boys “heyy I was about to beat soobin hyung” kai frowned “yah why are you so grumpy today” soobin side eyed him “its nothing..” gyu responded and sat up from the couch and went to his bedroom.

-

another day passes by and you and chaewon are together spending time at the arcade just chatting and playing some games, you havent chatted gyu ever since that night because of how scared you were for him to find out you have a crush on him.

“oh btw y/n I invited kazuha we havent seen her in so long and apparently shes taking a 1 week vacay here” chaewon was excited to see your guys friend that you havent seen from since she left the country.

“holy shit zuha Is taking a vacation here?!?!? why didn’t you tell me earlier!!” you were suprised as you saw kazuha enter the arcade from the entrance, you ran towards her so fast and engulfed her in your arms “zuhaaa you never told me you came heree you dont know how much i missed you” “im still here yk” chaewon pouted and crossed her arms looking at you

kazuha chuckles “I wanted it to be a suprise for you two, what are we waiting for? enough about me being here i still have to make it up to you two since i havent spent time with you guys ever since” she frowned as you and chaewon gave her a hug.

-

“taehyun you promised me your gonna win me a plushie from the claw machine right” kai giggled looking at tyun “yeah yeah whatever” taehyun responded.

“hey gyu isnt that y/n over there?” yeonjun looked at beomgyu, beomgyus gaze was on you. “be right back guys” he said and ran towards you but he overheard your convo with your friends.

“hey y/n have you and that guy bestfriend youve been friends for like what 5 years? what was his name..? oh beomgyu! have you two ever dated yet? you two were stuck together like glue.” kazuha asked you

you coughed “what? oh beomgyu! hes just a friend”

“friend, friend, friend”

was all that gyu heard from that convo, he immediately left and went to his friends and told them that he wasnt in the mood to play arcade games with them so he left early.

“why does it have to be the girl i like to friend zone me like that” gyu sighed as he slumped on his bed just thinking about you “agh fuck this is embarrassing beomgyu get yourself together” he murmured to himself.

-

same old day just beomgyu sitting on the couch with taehyun on his left and soobin on his right, “do you guys know if y/n likes anyone by any chance..” gyu asked “lol no.” soobin responded “wow thanks soobin” beomgyu scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“if i do remember her friend chaewon told me she liked someone but im just not sure who” taehyun said as he scrolled on his phone “did i hear gyu having a crush?” yeonjun teased.

“it just..pisses me off how she hasnt talked to me for 2days and now shes telling her friends that im just a friend to her..” he sighed laying his head back on the header of the couch “wait wait y/n friendzoning you?” kai chuckled “shes just saying that chaewon told me about it.”

“told you about what?” he says.

“that she likes you duhh” kai responded “come on gyu you needa step up your game its so obvious she likes you because of how shes ghosting you and saying your just a friend cause shes hiding the fact she likes you!?” kai chuckles looking at how dumbfounded beomgyu looked “OoOoo~ beomgyus inlove~” soobin and yeonjun teased him about it “shut up.” was gyus response.

beomgyu got up from the couch and went into his room opening the messages app from his phone and texted you.

“wanna meet up..? my treat :)” he sends the send button as he waits for your reply.

*buzz buzz*

his phone vibrated from your notification. “sure! what time??” you replied to his text msg “right now maybe?” gyu replied.

he got up from his bed and immediately grabbed his shoes and slipped them on and rushed out the door. “whats up with him?” taehyun said “inlove for sure” soobin added.

-

as he got In his car, he drove to your place and parked his car right infront of your house, as he gets out of the driver seat he goes up to your door *knock knock*

“coming!!” you rushed downstairs and answer the door to see beomgyu on your doorstep “hey uhm havent seen you in awhile whats the occasion for the hang out?” you smiled.

“just something i have something to tell you” gyu chuckled nervously as he opened the car door for the passenger seat for you.

you two went on a city night drive with snooze by sza playing on the radio everything was going chill and calm until gyu stopped at a park. “were here” he smiled and got out of the car to open the car door to the passenger seat.

- you two sat on a bench, silence filling up the air. “so..what were you gonna talk about?” you said breaking the silence “i’ve just been thinking..for the past few days you’ve been ignoring me and avoiding texting me which i kinda hated not gonna lie” “he giggled “but during those days I honestly realized i couldnt be myself without you talking to me for 2days i know call me dramatic but i cant live without talking to you y/n” he frowned, you honestly didnt know how to react about it.

“im sorry i havent talked to you..I- just was feeling things that i felt that was wrong i mean- ugh fuck am i really about to say this?, Im confused about my feelings gy-“ “I like you too dummy.” He responded before you could finish your sentence. you just sat there looking at him “dont look at me like that its true” he giggled “fine i admit it I like you- actually no I love you” you finally said it and oh how you felt so relieved to let those words slip out of your mouth knowing your best friend beomgyu felt the same way as you did.

“so if I like you and you like me..does that mean we’re a couple or?” gyu said as you just laughed “yes. yes gyu i would gladly be your girlfriend” you smiled at him as you gave a kiss on his cheek making his heart flutter.”

“well im glad because I love you too” he responded and kissed you, you felt a wave of shock from it and didnt know how to explain it but your lips just melted with his, his lips were soft and plush on yours. “Im so glad your mine now.” He whispered.

a/n: PHEEEEWWW I finally finished this my hands are lowkey sweating rn but I hope you guys enjoy this 🥹 I might make extra beomgyu bf texts for this later so ^^

heres sum extra gyu content added onto this ff I did!!

bf!gyu texts

[jamiepaige]

Constant Companions Closeup #7: AGGRANDICIZE

(also on spotify!)

There's no other way to intro this song - TAKE IT AWAY, TIKTOK VOICE

---

It's a hot and muggy night in Texas, mid-July of 2022.

In my dream, I am somewhere else entirely - A room in the city of Chicago, nestled somewhere high up amongst a countless number of high-rises, aesthetically somewhere between an upscale apartment, an art gallery, and a concert hall. Wide-open windows reveal the landscape of glass and steel spires, light bouncing between reflective surfaces indiscriminately and ultimately making it into the space I'd found myself in.

A good few souls were gathered here, many in suits holding notepads and handheld recorders, others in the flamboyantly-casual wear you might expect from a rock star invited to a press event. A song was playing at modest volume over an unseen sound system, an achingly familiar arrangement steadily ticking away at mid-tempo, drums striking with exacting precision upon each downbeat.

I held in my hand a phone, open to a familiar looking website. I don't recall most the actual words - it was a dream, there likely weren't any - but I recall it in broad strokes, with one specific detail, so I'll do my best to recreate the experience below.

i don't know if any of these shapes actually mean anything i just scribbled things down because i remember there being a row of Something there

"Some might bemoan this newest foray into glossy, baroque art pop as being simply a cheap Kate Bush impersonation," our dream reviewer wrote. "For Jamie, though, I believe she'd take this as a compliment."

And yes, I would. That's the kind of artist you're grateful to be mentioned in the same breath as! That being said, like, huh? That's not even how you spell aggrandize. What?

I woke up with a singular mission.

---

In this day and age, "being a star" is a strangely democratized concept. Everyone is a celebrity, with a brand image to maintain and an audience to cater to and a compelling story arc to be followed. Fandom manifests in all its beautiful and nightmarish aspects even in amounts of tens of people.

Maybe it's my boomer dadrock-loving parents, or my childhood obsession with the game Rock Band, or some chemical imbalance, or simply some toxic nostalgia manifest, but part of me couldn't help but crave it.

I wanted it to be true!! The romantic idea of the musician, touring nonstop in beatup vans across entire continents, pouring their heart out on stage and in recording booths, seeing their name up in lights and embossed in gilded vinyl records, finding constant companionship secondhand. Obviously, reality is so much messier than that, but honestly, it's a dream I've never really been able to let go of - being a star.

I shouldn't have to tell you how out of touch with reality that ideal is. That doesn't stop the dreams from coming.

The subject Aggrandicize is written for, that the lyrics are addressed to, is fame itself. To be wanted, to be dissected, to be bleached and recycled ad infinitum, to be subject to the churning violent machine of fame; To be forever just out of sight, to lack the luck, to bleed and bleed and bleed until you're nothing and not even get a single inch closer to that goal because it's impossible and it's not even what you want. Doesn't it sound like paradise? To tower over reality itself, a redwood tree amongst bushes and ferns? To take this image and stretch, to grow so big gravity revolves around you? To be more brand than body? To be a star?

I don't need that. I don't want that, even if I think I do. Maybe I want to want you to want me, but it is an ideal destined to rot me from the inside out and drain me for every ounce of blood. I just want to make music! And honestly, the path I've gone down has proven that I can have my cake and eat it, too - Playing live at Digital Stars earlier this year was one of the most gratifying and fulfilling experiences I've ever had in my life. I can make better memories by following where my art takes me, memories without 'fame' and 'fortune', memories of light and connection and getting in a room with a bunch of people who know the lyrics and singing my fucking heart out alongside them.

...

Basically, I own a TikTok account, but it'll be a cold day in hell before I ever use it.

---

This song, like many others I've written, was created primarily through assembling a bunch of piecemeal ideas I'd amassed over a couple years of demos. In particular, it borrows a lot from On Fire, a song I wrote for a song jam hosted by Fourth Strike Records back in 2021! I couldn't really tell you why, but I just keep returning to this song over and over - first with Encore, and now with this... Thankfully, I think I've exhausted this font of ideas at this point.

Aggrandicize, somewhat fittingly, is also the song that gave me the most technical trouble on this entire release - I think I genuinely went back and reworked the mix some fifty-odd times before finally giving up and just sending it as-is. I'm still somewhat unhappy with the final result, but hey, the only difference between a work-in-progress and a finished piece is what you call it, I guess.

This is another song I've had a lot of MV ideas for, and that may very well still see a video if I decide to go that route! There's a couple concepts that I've floated, including possibly an animated/animatic type video, but the original concept was to do a whole shitload of fake brainrot tiktoks and film them playing off a phone synced up to the music. That idea never took off, mostly because I couldn't bring myself to do all that, but there's exactly one remnant I'd like to share.

That's it for today!! If you have any questions, I'll gladly answer them below, but otherwise, I'll be back tomorrow to talk about women who love other women with Liaison!

[blackynsupremacy]

THERE’S SOMETHING

ABOUT YOU.

CHAPTER 2

pairing: smallville!clark kent x blackfem!oc

fandom: smallville (2001-2011)

guest starring: aaliyah haughton as lyric james

also starring:

angela bassett as crystal james

rick fox as joseph james

summary: ever since lana lang has moved in with the sullivan’s, clark kent’s nightly telescopic views of the galaxy and daily glimpse of the sunrise tend to get lonelier. that is until a moving truck, a wandering amicable feline, and her frustrated owner, lyric james, makes her debut in his life as her family are the new owners of the old potter house next door. things between the new neighbors start to shift as clark is tasked as her personal tour guide at her new school. one little slip is all it takes for her to learn he’s more than meets the eye in this small town.

contains: lots of words, friends to neighbors, use of gifs for visuals, tooth rotting fluff, a bit of angst, lyric and clark getting closer, mild swearing, cute moments, slow burn, main audience is black readers but everyone is welcome. lyric’s thoughts, clark’s thoughts.

taglist: @zombiehe4rt @ellethespaceunicorn @elitesanjisimp @jkr820 @rosiestalez @sabrinasopposite @tryingtograspctrl @simply-the-best23 @gxuxhdjdu @afrowrites @afrogirl3005 @paisholotus

important a/n: for my black smallville girlies, i have created a smallville x black reader tag, so please if you have any content for any smallville characters idc if it’s a rant, fanfic, or meme, put it under that tag because we deserve that space and i want to see more than my stuff on there!

please read: CHAPTER 1

it was sunday afternoon and the james family were now officially moved in. furniture, clothing, and appliances were all accounted for and every necessary document for a citizen in smallville. lyric’s parents went next door to meet the kents to properly introduce themselves before venturing out to find the local market to freshly stock their kitchen with food and have their first meal together as a family in their new home. lyric stayed back, claiming she was tired from all of the lifting, moving, and organizing. she sat on her bed with her legs crossed and a sleeping noir on her lap as her thumbs pressed on the right arrow button of her digital photo album. she always saw it as a hobby, but her friends back home were always impressed with her photography skills. lyric adored to capture the realness and beauty of her city. she appreciated that it didn’t have to be a large garden or a gigantic skyscraper for it to be art. her album included graffiti painted murals, street musicians sharing their talents, or a child’s beaming smile as they indulged in an ice cream cone on a hot summer day. these photos brought her nostalgic bliss until she clicked upon a picture of her and omar. lyric felt such a twinge of pain that bit at her chest and a suffocating tightness in her throat that she inhaled and simply shut off the device. she picked up noir in one arm to get off her bed and place it on her desk next to her computer. if she didn’t do that, the thing would’ve thrown and smashed into the wall.

there was one thing that could make this feeling go away: a vinyl. lyric placed noir on the floor to roam around the room as she pleased before crossed over to her shelf that her record player atop of it. obviously being the year 2002, a lot of people her age wouldn’t care for them now, but this was a family heirloom that her grandpa, joseph “jojo” (as she affectionately called him) sr., passed down to lyric for her to enjoy music of the past and present. the brown skinned girl made the adjustments that the player was ready before she squats down to find a suitable album to listen to. hmm. beatles? nah. duke ellington? not today. whitney houston? maybe. lauryn hill? yes! lyric slid “the miseducation of lauryn hill” vinyl from the album cover to gingerly place it on the turntable. her fingertips grip the tonearm to maneuver the needle that gently descends onto the spinning vinyl, a soft crackle is heard in the room, indicating the start of one of lyric’s favorite songs. the sultry notes of " ex-factor” filled the room, lyric lost herself in the moment as she turned the dial to increase the volume. she grabs her hairbrush from her vanity to lip-sync as if she were on a world tour with her audience of noir who seemed to enjoy the impromptu performance of her owner swaying her hips to every rhythm. lyric felt the vibe hit differently as she sang along with the breakdown.

(care) care for me, care for me

I know you care for me

(there) there for me, there for me

said you'd be there for me

(cry) cry for me, cry for me

you said you'd die for me

(give) give to me, give to me

why won't you live for me?

care care for me, care for me

you said you'd care for me

(there) there for me, there for me

said you'd be there for me

(cry) cry for me, cry for me

you said you'd die for me

(give) give to me, give to me

why won't you live for me?

(care) care for me, care for me

you said you'd care for me—

“LYRIC RENEÉ JAMES!”

just as she hit a high note, crystal’s voice boomed as she burst through the door. lyric halted to turn around to see her mother’s facial expression change from a feigned stern look to one of amusement and laughter in her voice. lyric sheepishly giggled as she walked to the player to lift the needle off the vinyl to stop the music.

“hey, mama! what’s up? did the store have the frosted flakes?” she asked stumbling towards her mother. whenever lyric was caught like that, she attempted to take the attention off herself by changing the topic of conversation.

“girl, you and that record player! i’ve been calling your name for five minutes, but it looks like you were selling out stadiums on your world tour like you’re a child of destiny or something.” crystal quipped as she crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe.

“ma, it’s destiny’s child and i’m sorry. i just wanted to kill some time until ya’ll got back. is there anything you need me to do?”

“don’t get smart, girl. yes, get dressed. we’re going to dinner!”

“oh, for real? ya’ll found a restaurant out here that fast?”

“it’s not a restaurant, child. we’re just going next door. that nice family of that sweet boy—uh, honey, what’s his name? he found noir for you yesterday.”

“clark—clark kent?”

“yeah yeah, him! his family invited us to have dinner tonight, so start getting ready before we leave you.” crystal demands before she saunters out of her daughter’s room.

“you couldn’t leave me if you tried, ma!” lyric jokingly called out with a chuckle.

“try me and find out!” crystal responds a sound of her bedroom door opening and closing following suit.

lyric giggles while shaking her head before she goes to her closet to assemble the attire of a cropped black top with long mesh sleeves, khaki colored jeans, a sleeveless army patterned vest with a zipper, and combat boots. within the next thirty minutes, she did her hygiene, got dressed, and briefly primped herself in the mirror until her she deemed her final look presentable for the evening ahead. once her signature hoops were on, she kissed noir on the head and warned the cat to be on her best behavior before going downstairs to find her parents at the front door waiting to make their journey to the kents. she noticed her mother holding what looked like a boxed dessert of some kind before they walked out the door. it was a mild autumn temperature with a light breeze. the sun was starting to set painting an array of vibrant colors in the sky and setting the stage for the moon and stars to take their role for the night.

the family reached the kent house and stepped onto the porch. joseph glanced at his watch that indicated that they were ten minutes early and used his index finger to ring the doorbell. jonathan and martha answered the door within a second, amicably greeting the family with pleasant grins, hugs, and handshakes before they were cordially welcomed in the home. lyric’s eyes perused the classic, american interior of the living room, wooden staircase, and the multitude of family photos. lyric found it all so endearing her trance was broken when she heard a male voice speak her name with a friendly tone, it was not as deep as her father’s nor mr. kent’s.

“hey, lyric!” the girl’s head turned and her earthy eyes ascended to meet his of sky blue and an award winning smile on his lips. lyric could definitely peep his simple, classic farmhouse style of a red plaid flannel with jeans and boots, but he looked well put together nonetheless and not to mention of his clean, fresh scent.

“hey! what’s up? how ya’ doing, clark?” lyric addressed him with a dimpled smile, standing with one leg in front of the other and placed her hands in her back pockets. she wasn’t really sure what to do with her hands at the moment, she’s already shaken his hand when they first met, but she didn’t want to be too forward to give him at least a side hug.

“i’m good—well, great! i’m glad you guys could make it. you look really good, by the way. i like your outfit!” clark was trying not to stutter as his cheeks turned a bit red because he was telling the truth. it wasn’t a lie that he thought lyric was pretty, but to not come off as a creep and secure a potential friendship with his new neighbor, he complimented her fashion style that was also eye-catching. it was comfortable, simple, but it stood out from the rest with both neutral and vibrant colors.

“thanks, clark! i appreciate the invite and you don’t look bad yourself. you clean up real nice.” lyric honestly reciprocates the compliment. he’s too sweet. who needs to eat when your ego’s been fed?

all of the conversations were halted as the kents took the initiative to lead the james family to the kitchen. they gathered at the table and the husbands respectfully sat with their wives while clark pulled out a chair for lyric to sit next to him. with a soft voice and a smile of gratitude, she utters a thank you to the boy before taking her seat. the meal consisted of chicken fried steak and a spread of fresh farm to table cuisine that tasted like tlc was injected into every bite they took. as the families got to know each other, they conversed about the smallville community such as people they should (or shouldn’t) meet, places to go, and things to do. lyric was piqued at the mention of a meteor shower that previously happened in the fall of 1989, but saddened to learn that there was destruction, trauma, and long lasting effects, but the people of smallville had eventually learned to move on.

“oh my goodness, that’s awful!” crystal gasped with an appalled expression.

“it truly was—life altering, but not all was lost that day because we gained a son. that was the day when clark came into our lives and i wouldn’t change a thing.” martha responds with fondness as she places her palm on her chest and glances at her son earning smiles from everyone at the table.

“aww, that’s so sweet, mrs. kent!” lyric cooed as her chest swelled with warmth. she was a sucker for a happy ending.

“ah, mom. please don’t get too emotional! not in front of our new neighbors.” he jokingly pleads in slight embarrassment as his cheeks flush to scarlet causing the rest of the table to chuckle. mr. kent mentioned a man by the name of “luthor” lyric forgot his first name, but he’s a wealthy ceo of his own company. he’s originally from a city called metropolis, but moved into a mansion in smallville. the james family discovered that clark actually saved his life and they became friends ever since, hence his connections to the kents. lyric was amazed at the farm boy’s bravery, but she also detected in mr. kent’s tone that there was some mixed feelings about this dude. clark would chime in to come to this man’s defense. meteor showers, rich guys, clark being a hero. maybe this town does have some interesting stuff going on.

after dinner and with their parents’ permission, clark and lyric were excused to go to his loft in the barn to continue to know more about each other. it was already dark outside, but the many stars in the sky set the scenery. clark gave lyric a short “tour of his fortress of solitude”. lyric thought of clark to be lucky to have this huge, private space and she found it thoughtful that he at least felt comfortable with her enough to share it with her. he guided her to the telescope by the open loft window. she leaned forward and peeked her earth toned pupil through the eyepiece and he made sure to adjust the focus to capture all of the captivating spots that inhabited with galaxy. lyric felt the warmth of clark’s towering figure behind hers and she listens to his passionate, tenor voice as he educates her about the cosmos and eagerly answers any questions she has. it sounds like he wants to be up there. maybe he wants to be an astronaut after graduation.

a light bulb goes off in lyric’s brain before she moves back from the telescope and her two fingertips lightly tap his forearm to which clark’s eyes are immediately on hers.

“hey, clark?” she questions.

“yes, lyric?” he responds.

“i got an idea.”

“what might that be?”

“you wanna play 21 questions? i know it’s kinda lame, but it’s a good way to know each other if we’re next door neighbors and going to the same school, right? so are you in or are you out?”

“i’m in! do you wanna sit?” he offers gesturing to the sofa. lyric nods in agreement and they seat themselves on the cushions.

“bet! i’ll start with something basic. what’s your favorite color?”

“mostly blue and red. what part of new york were you from?”

“brooklyn. i’mma get this out the way—how tall are you?”

clark chuckles before answering.

“6’3. what’s something you love doing the most?”

“taking pictures with my camera! especially things that give me inspiration. i wish i had it take a picture of these stars…what’s your favorite food?”

“pizza. i can’t live without it if i wanted to!”

“get outta my head, that’s my favorite, too! there was this place back home called tony’s and let me tell you, they had the best new york style pizza on the block. they’d make the slices so big that you gotta fold it like a taco to get one bite and you’ll never finish it the day you get it.”

“sounds like my kind of place! i’m never one to back down from a challenge, so i’ll take your word for it, lyric. oh, right! the game— i wonder how’d you get to know noir?”

“that’s an interesting story. well, there was always this cat in my neighborhood just going on about its business, but some people were superstitious and thought she was bad luck because you know, she’s a black cat, so they would yell and curse at her like she was something evil. i was 12 years old and she was so cute to me, so i always fed her a little treat or just gave her a bowl of milk. one day it was raining, and i was in such a rush to get in the house that i didn’t see that i left the door cracked and she followed me in. i knew my parents wouldn’t feel too excited about any animals in our house, but she was cold, wet, and shivering, so i did what i had to do. i took care of her and it took two weeks of begging and my parents let me keep her because i was showing them that i was mature when i took care of her and the rest is history.”

“that was very kind of you, lyric. noir’s very lucky to have you as her owner, you’re basically her hero when everyone made her feel like an outcast.” clark’s lips formed a small smile and commended her as he peered at her side profile. lyric just sheepishly smiled as her dimpled cheeks radiated with heat.

“i think it’s the other way around! you would’ve done the same. the last i checked i didn’t save a rich dude from drowning, so you’re more of a hero than me.” lyric and clark chortled before she resumed the game with a question,

“what do you wanna do when you graduate, clark?” lyric quizzically awaited his answer, her eyes boring into his as her elbows rest on her lap with her chin resting in her palms. clark sits in thought for a few seconds to honestly get the answer from his brain through his mouth.

“i think i want to go into journalism. there’s something fascinating about getting a fresh scoop on something and you jump down the rabbit hole to get all of the facts from all of these different sources. the only downside is the possibility of invading someone’s privacy, breaking someone’s trust, and proofreading an article.” he states before they both chuckle at his joke.

“oh, really? for a minute, i thought you wanted to work for nasa with the way you were talking about the stars. it was like you were giving me a tour of your hometown, but it was the galaxy. journalism is cool though. clark, you could be on tv if you wanted to! it sounds to me you got it down to tee. you’ll do numbers, trust.” lyric shift her leg over the other and placed her elbow on the back edge of sofa, leaning her head in her palm.

“i’ve never got a chance to ask you this, but i really like your name. it’s unique. what gave your folks the inspiration?” he questioned and wittingly pretended to hold an invisible microphone with a playful smirk curving on his lips and a piqued glint in his eyes as he pointed his hand towards her lips, awaiting her answer. clark’s smile grew wider as lyric giggled and clasped her hands together.

“aha! i hear the journalist popping out now. we’re really doing an interview, huh? okay, well, my mama loves music. she used to play piano and write poetry as a hobby, but back then, her parents wanted her to do something more…practical and she went on to be a nurse. of course she loves what she does, but she told me that when i cried for the first time after i was first born, i was like the lyrics to her song of her life, so yeah, that’s why they named me lyric.” both teens simpered at the thought of their mother’s affection towards them.

“i can tell that you and your mom are close like my mom and i.”

“you’re not wrong, your mom speaks fondly on a day of tragedy and chaos because of you! there’s no doubt that she loves you a lot, clark. it must’ve been hectic giving birth during a meteor shower.”

there was a beat of silence.

“well— i’m actually adopted. my parents adopted me when i was around three years old and they raised me ever since. i’m not ashamed of it of course because they only want what’s best for me.” clark uttered as he cleared the air of awkwardness when he noticed lyric raise her brows in awe.

“oh-ooh, i’m so sorry, clark! i shouldn’t have assumed, it’s just—ya’ll are so tight, so i couldn’t tell. never be ashamed because blood doesn’t always mean family. as long as you got people in your circle who truly care for you at your best and at your worst, that’s family.” her hand slowly reaches toward him to place her palm on his shoulder, giving it a reassuring touch which clark receives with a small smile.

“thank you, lyric.”

“don’t mention it, clark.”

clark places his hand on top of hers for a brief moment and they both pulled away before things got too awkward between them than it should. for the next several minutes they continued with their inquiries about their lives, interests, favorites, and pet peeves. the parents were about to go their separate ways and made their way out to the porch to fetch the kids, but what they heard was laughter and a good conversation echoing from the open window in the barn. they all found it endearing, but joseph and crystal had to be up and at em’ the next day for their first days at work and lyric, her first day of school. jonathan and martha insisted to the james’ that lyric can hang for a few more minutes because they enjoy lyric’s company for their son and the kids would eventually tire out from their activity. knowing their son, he would bring their daughter home safely in one piece. crystal and joseph pondered on it and decided it would be okay, but they all agreed that if lyric wasn’t home by nine, one of them would pick her up. they bid each other a friendly goodnight and the james couple walked down the path and retired to their home.

lyric and clark stood outside the barn. it was pitch out, but the sky was still scattered with the soft shining light of the stars. her laughter mingling with the cool evening breeze. clark stood at her side with his hands stuffed in his pockets and an easy smile on his face, both of them reluctant to let the night come to an end.

“i swear, my parents be playing with me like that! of course they’d leave me if i don’t haul ass in time.” she chuckled, kicking a pebble to the side and glances over her shoulder to the familiar path that led to her house. clark laughed, a warm sound that filled the space between them.

“i wouldn’t be surprised. they’re the type of people that when they’re ready to go, they’re ready to go, even if you’re not. ,” he teased, his azure eyes sparkling. the connection between the teens felt easy like a sunday morning, it was a kind of chemistry that made them forget their mundane worries all together, but as the stars twinkled with every second passing by, reality crept back in.

“ugh, i gotta go home. god forbid i oversleep on my first day tomorrow.,” with a sad smile, lyric sighed glanced at the path again.

clark straightened his posture, his smile dimming just a touch. “i’ll walk you home, lyric.” he offered without missing a beat.

“thanks, clark!” she replied and they started their journey.

as they strolled side by side, the air was thick with a comfortable silence momentarily, but they resumed the stories of themselves and their friends. with each giggle and chuckle, it what seemed like a brisk two minute walk, felt more like a five mile stroll to her house. when they reached her front door, it felt too soon.

“goodnight, lyric. it was great seeing you again.” clark said, the volume of his voice diminished as he took a small step back. he didn’t want to make a bad impression by waking her parents.

“goodnight, clark! i can’t thank you enough. i’ll meet you at that bus stop where you showed me in the morning.” she utters, her heart fluttering a bit and a tickle in her throat. as her knuckles were about to knock on the door, clark called her name, his tone almost hesitant.

here it goes, it’s now or never.

“hey—um, how about we meet early tomorrow to watch the sunrise? it’s really beautiful out there and maybe it would spark inspiration for you to take pictures on your camera. that’s if you’re okay with it of course! ,” he suggested, a hint of nervousness in his voice.

he could see lyric’s toffee toned face light up at the idea. “yeah, i’m down for that. i don’t usually like waking up early, but you’re good in my book, so why not?” she responded, her smile beaming and she turned briefly to knock on the door to signal for parents to answer. joseph came to the door and graciously thanked clark for getting his daughter home in time.

as lyric stepped inside, she glanced at clark one last time to give him a wave and after he reciprocated, she disappeared behind the door. she didn’t realize the dopey smile that was stuck on her face as she walked in, but joseph did. with an amused grin, the older male crossed his arms and quipped,

“what you smilin’ about, lil’ girl?”

lyric stopped and cleared her throat, embarrassed that she was in such a trance that she didn’t realize her facial expression.

“uh—n-nothing just had a good time, daddy.” she stammered and twiddled her fingers.

“mhm, sure didn’t seem like nothing. get some rest, baby girl. it’s your first day tomorrow.” joseph chuckles and bids his daughter goodnight with a kiss to her forehead and ascended up the stairs to join his wife in bed. lyric playfully groaned, rolled her eyes at her father’s antics, and followed suit to change out of her clothes to her nightly attire and silk head wrap. she gathers her already sleeping onyx kitty in her arms, but doesn’t forget to adjust her alarm clock to a decent, but early enough time to get ready and meet clark before school. her eyelids close to begin her slumber.

as clark walked home, he was excited for his meeting with lyric and for her to meet his friends at school, but he felt a twinge of guilt. he felt he was betraying his loyalty to lana because watching the sunrises would be their “thing”. sure, he loved her, but it wasn’t like she’s his girlfriend. lyric was just a (almost) friend, all he wanted was to make her feel welcome, and that thought warmed his heart. clark really hoped that she would come through in the morning. he didn’t see any harm at showing someone the beauty and wonders of his hometown especially if they came from a whole different setting. once he got home, clark helped his parents tidy up the kitchen, bid them goodnight, and rested his body for the following day.

[rotandguts]

✶ ┄ CRAZY TOGETHER

danny (evil dead rise) x fem!reader

summary: during a quiet lull on that tumultuous night, danny realises this may be one of the last few moments he'll ever spend with his best friend.

word count: 2.9k

warnings: 18+ mdni, nsfw, sexual content, masturbation (fem receiving), mentions of loss of virginity, mentions of panic attacks, possession and death. praise kink if you squint, bittersweet best friends to lovers. mentions of underaged drinking.

A/N: helllooooo, so this is my first ever fic on this blog wowowowowow i'm nervous. i hope you all like it bc i am DOWN BAD for this mfer. pls let me know what you think!! DANNY IS 18 IN THIS.

publishing date ―  may 17th, 2023 |  © rotandguts

✶

Through all the horror and dread that had inevitably arisen from the events of the past few hours, Danny would argue that despite the demonic presence lurking in the hallway - it was the guilt of his own actions that was currently feasting on his soul.

The noises from beyond the bolted door of apartment 85 had grown to a momentary halt, the initial attack keeping everyone still alive on edge. Bridget was in the living room temporarily calming her younger sister Kassie with promises of a doctor coming to help their mother, hesitancy evident within her voice as she struggled to believe the words coming from her own mouth. Her wound on her cheek - as much as she had tried to ignore it - was starting to ache. Beth had been raiding the apartment for something to help her hand that the quick relief of duct tape was unable to provide.

And all this because he found that stupid fucking book.

The thing that was making the empty sick feeling in his gut feel like a stab wound of his own, was your lingering presence in the corner of his room.

You were here because of him. Regardless of the book or not, if he hadn’t insisted you come over that night for pizza you would be sitting across the city in the comfort of your own home right now. You could’ve been with your family when the earthquake happened. Fuck, they don’t even know if you’re alive right now.

Beth could now be heard stomping around all the windows in the apartment, shouting to anyone that could hear her that they needed help.

“What the fuck are we gonna do, Dan?” Your timid voice snapped him from his internal ongoing panic attack. His gaze, still concerned, softened when you turned around to look at him. It had been the first time you’d spoken in a long while, your voice providing an almost immediate comfort to the blonde boy. He began biting his nails with furrowed brows, a habit you’d usually chastise him for.

“I don’t know.” He whispered, eyes still on you. Your hands were trembling. Your hands were fucking trembling because of him, the thought led him unable to look you in the eyes momentarily. Tears began to form as you clenched your fists, trying to fight the breathless in your chest as it began to truly sink in how much shit you were in. Your phone had long been out of battery, with Danny dropping his in the vault where he'd found that book. Neither of you had been able to comprehend the necessity of the devices a mere few hours ago.

You were both essentially isolated from the world as you knew it.

Danny sunk onto the bed, sitting upright with wide eyes and quick breaths. You couldn’t bare to see him like this. Sure, was there a part of you that was totally pissed off at him for tempting fate with that old vinyl? Of course. But hell, the worst thing you’d been expecting was tetanus, not satan herself cooking eggs in the kitchen.

You approached his hunched over figure, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. He still can’t look you in the eyes.

“It’s gonna be okay.” You spoke with the same hesitance as Bridget in the connecting room. Danny was grown up enough to know otherwise, and yet still for a brief moment took solace in your words.

The mattress sinks beside him and when he turns you’re looking at him through wide, concerned eyes. Your clasped hands are still shaking, despite your best efforts to stop them.

His own hand hovers over them. You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding when he finally clasps your hands with his.

Eyes connect in the moment, his own drop briefly to look at your lips. They’re a little bloody from you biting them. Your tongue skates across them, letting the metallic taste fill your mouth. The smell leaking through the damp walls of the apartment itself after the bloodbath caused by Ellie outside.

You might both die tonight, he thinks. This could be it. All those years of friendship over because of him. In fact, he thinks it might be even worse if he survives and you don’t, because he’d be haunting the earth still searching for you at every corner in his life. He considers it for a brief moment, mentally punishing himself with twisted thoughts for the hundredth time that night.

Danny’s stomach drops at the thought of the immense unsaid in your friendship. Every lingering gaze and hand hold, every hushed secret and late night embrace under covers. He lived for those moments, but it was starting to dawn on him that they may remain just that. Fleeting moments of will-they-won’t-they peppering your decade long friendship, the what ifs of tomorrow darkening overnight.

He thinks about the first time he knew he loved you. It was your tenth birthday, a milestone. Your mom had intended on throwing you a lavish party and inviting all the kids in class with the little money she’d had. You’d never been one for showing off or making a big fuss and insisted you just wanted Danny there. The night was spent huddled together in fancy dress costumes, he was a pirate and you were a princess, telling each other spooky stories from the safety of the pillow fort your parents had helped build. He wished this nightmare they were currently experiencing was just that, a spooky story told under the flashlight lit fort.

He could still remember the close proximity you both sat in. The quiet, different from the buzzing playground, had allowed him the opportunity to see you up close. There was something in your words that made his heart beat faster, and when your bright eyes lingered on him while telling your stories he knew deep down that he wanted you to look at him like that for the rest of his life.

You were looking at him like that now.

“Do you remember that night we got home from Oscar’s party?” Your voice was barely a whisper, he almost thought he had made it up in his head. All of a sudden he was very aware of just how close you now were.

Oscar, a classmate and barely a friend, grew up in the richer part of the city. Everyone jumped for a chance to go to his parties for his large pool and the flowing liquor, you had both jumped at the opportunity.

“Yeah.” Danny responded after a beat, still taking the opportunity to inspect your face.

That night you had partaken in your usual drunk hand holding and cuddling, nothing too different from what you’d do sober but with an added possessiveness. You had danced with him like you wanted everyone to watch you together, to know that you were his and he was yours. In those moments, lips had lingered for moments too long at ears and mouths. But ultimately, the night ended with your usual walk home.

If Ellie, Danny’s mom, had known you both weren’t tucked safely in bed in your house she would’ve called a search party to track you down through every nook and cranny in the city. Luckily, you both ended your night in bed by 4am.

“Do you remember what you asked me?” Danny spoke again after a short moment of silence. You were looking at the floor now, your feet occasionally grazing his.

“Yeah.”

“Why haven’t you ever kissed me, Danny?” You asked, he thought you were teasing him but you showed no signs of mocking. Pensive, you rolled to face him. He was frozen in place. The lights were out in your room and your bodies, undressed to different extents that you were both familiar with during an after party sleepover, radiating an addictive warmth that made him want to hold on to you skin to skin.

“I didn’t know that was something you wanted.” His fists were clenched, he was still waiting for this to be a big joke.

“I want it.” The light from the moon illuminated some of your face. He licked his lips.

“Why didn’t we like, ever talk about it after?” If tonight was it, he needed to know. He needed to tell her. He’d rather she hate him and be alive and know than be dead and have the wasted opportunity follow him forever.

“I was scared, I guess - I thought you didn’t like it.” You shrugged.

Soft lips on your own, hands gripping your waist under covers. You’re using all of your self control to not grind yourself into him. The only evidence left of your night together were various lilac bruises scattered on your necks. But neither of you spoke about it. So it was never brought up.

“I liked it.” For the first time tonight since the earthquake, Danny softly smiled. Your eyes lit up, returning the smile to him.

“You never said anything-“

“Neither did you!” He countered, the smile giving away that he wasn’t actually angry. You smirked and rolled your eyes, “Touché.”

As much as it embarrassed you to admit at a time like this, your thighs were pressed together at the thought of you and him that night. Both of you had been virgins prior to the encounter

His left hand tangled through your hair as lips danced, you can still remember how you thought you had a temperature from the summer heat and the sweat coating you both. From his gentle, wordless persuasion of a soft push, you were on your back and his frame was on top pressing into you. By instinct, your legs wrap around his waist and pull him in. His hips grinding to your core, it’s so messy and quick but you can barely think because his other hand is traveling to your thigh to pull you in even closer.

He breaks away from the kiss to trace his thumb across your jaw and your swollen lips. Eyes blown out and wide, jaw slack at the sight of him. You’re spread out under him, the material of your crop top and shorts seemingly oh-so thin now that you’re in this position. Your tongue appears to softly lick the digit of his thumb, his eyes almost rolling back at the sensation. He can feel your thighs clench together around him, seeking a temporary relief from the throbbing between them.

He thinks he might die if he can’t feel it, if only for a second.

Removing the thumb from your mouth, your face immediately portrays your disappointment with a slight pout. Danny lightly smirks, lowering himself down again face to face with you. He reaches down to your thigh, trailing the inside of your leg.

“Can I feel you?”

“I think I’ve been thinking of that night every day since it happened.” He admitted, soft smile lingering. You could feel something stir inside you. Here he was, your best friend, in his oversized shirt and silver chain. He ran his hand through his hair. “I dunno. I just know that I can’t stop thinking about it. And you.” Danny continues.

There was a fucking demon outside the apartment door and quite frankly all you could think about was how badly you wanted that silver chain in your mouth.

Your hand reaches for his jaw, which grows slack at your touch, his gaze seemingly possessed by the thought of you. The summer night heat from that encounter stirred inside of you again.

“I think I’m in love with you.” Apprehensive, you continue to trace your thumb over his cheek, until following his jaw and lips just like he had done that night. “I think I’ve been in love with you for a long while.”

He was hypnotised under the touch.

“I love you too. I’ve always loved you. You’re my best friend, man.” Danny felt like fucking crying and you could tell through his voice. Was this a dream? Was that demon back to taunt him for all the time wasted?

He felt consumed by you, like in this moment his purpose was to do anything he could to make it all better. He leaned in to finally press a kiss on your lips, slow and still hesitant. You chase him for another when he pulls away, noses still connected and eyes closed tight.

You wanted to stay like this forever. His fingers laced with the hair behind your ear, grabbing a section and softly pulling. The involuntary moan that left your lips sent a shiver through him, he wanted more, more, more. Your neck was on display for him to reach down and attack with sloppy kisses and light teasing bites. He pressed himself against you, moving your back flat onto the mattress. His lips and tongue messy with your own, clashing to remedy the thirst for each other. Danny’s thigh pressing against your covered core, subconsciously leading you to grind against him.

“Danny, please-” When you were saying things like that, knowing that you didn’t know how much time you even had left together, he had to comply. It had felt so natural, it almost made him feel that guilty feeling again. Why hadn’t they just been doing this all along?

Lifting your skirt to expose the wet lace of your underwear, he asked the same question he did last summer.

“Can I feel you?”

Without hesitation you nodded, guiding his hands through the waistband. “Shit,” He paused for a second, raising his fingers back up to his mouth, spitting on them before returning them to their previous position.

The electric feeling of him on her clit, foreheads pressed together and eyes connected could make anyone forget about the horrors happening beyond the sanctuary of the doors to his room. His fingers filling you, curling and strumming to a syncopated beat, reacting only to your stirring beneath him.

“You’re so fuckin’ wet babe,” He was amazed at the feeling itself, your slick softness. You choked out a gasp, you groping him in an attempt to give him the same ineluctable pleasure he was giving you. He was too preoccupied with you to worry about anything he might be feeling, not when he was the one that got you in this situation. And besides, hovering over you when you looked this fucking good with his fingers stuffed inside you, that was more than enough for him.

“You’re so good, such a good boy.” He quietly whines at your words, pressing rough kisses to your neck again.

You tug his hair back to grant yourself a better look at him. His other hand wrapped around your neck, not restricting your breathing but still lightly grabbing it. When he could tell you were about to make a loud noise, the same hand swiftly moved to cover your mouth. Your eyes wide with his, silently watching each other desperate to moan.

The silver chain resting on your chest, its cold metal grounding you in the moment. “So fuckin’ pretty,” He murmured, still so preoccupied with the feeling of filling you.

“Needed you for so long Dan,” He bites his lip as his pace grows quick, your fingers finally finding their way around the chain that was taunting you all night.

“Thought about you every night. Couldn’t stop thinking about how fuckin’ wet you were.” It was true, in the shame of their last encounter he hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind. Not when he’d been thinking about it for half his life. “Still so so wet baby.”

Looking at his arms, his tattoos and veins. The way they moved in and out of you, the glint in his eyes as he watched his own work. The overwhelming view and feeling lead to the inescapable wave. “Fuck, Dan, I’m gonna-”

And with that, he holds you tight as you hit your orgasm. Your hands fly to his hair and shoulders, trying to remain grounded as your back arches. “Fuckfuckfuck-” You try your hardest to whisper, but your heart is pounding and all you can feel is the dizzying sweetness of Danny all around you. You have to remind yourself that this is real, you’re real.

He watches you, your heavy breathing providing the soundtrack to the moment. He pressed a light kiss to the top of your breast that was on show from the top you were wearing, before moving back up to place a kiss on your lips. Lying beside you, staring into your eyes with a warmth you’d always thought was unimaginable but realising that it had always been there. It has always been him.

So for that moment, you just lay there. And yeah, there was still so much unsaid regarding their long friendship. But for now, in the uncertainty of the night, they’d managed to say enough. For the first time since finding that book, Danny would feel optimistic about the future, despite all the shit going on with his mom. For a second it felt like they could really do this, they could really be fine. If only they could make it to tomorrow, then everything else could be resolved. He could apologise to Bridget, he could ask you out on a real date. You could let your parents know you were alive, you could fix the mistakes of last summer and go all the way again with Dan instead of pretending it never happened.

Unfortunately, as optimistic as they currently were, tomorrow would not come for either of them.