#I WANNA TALK TO THE STYLIST THIS TIME | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

leclsrc · 1 year ago

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wanna be nearer ✴︎ mv1

genre: 18+, fuck buddies ahhhaha, smut, porn w/o plot basically...

word count: 3.6k

It seems every time you tell yourself to stop, Max comes back into your life and all sense of resolve crumbles. title from this

auds here… hiii :) req'd by SO MANY PEOPLE i can't even start compiling all the asks hahah but if u asked for this here it is! writing's been tuff for me lately but this was the one thing i could continue daily (weird) also there is a case to be made re: max's hottest pictures being like 1 pixel in resolution... hope u all like it!!!

nsfw warnings under the cut!

18+ because... sexual tension, penetrative sex, some vague sexting/a sex tape being watched, praise/dirty talk central, size kink, unprotected sex, handjob (f receiving), max being a meanie

It’s busy today. You haven’t seen him all day.

To be fair, you weren’t necessarily looking—not at first, anyways. How many days had it been since the last time, now? The one in your hotel room? Almost two weeks, you think. The real answer’s blurry in your head, especially when you count the close calls, but this should be a record for you two at this point. Neither of you acknowledge that the only reason you’ve been so good at staying away from each other is because when you’re not roped into the same media junket, you avoid each other at all costs.

The media pen is full; everybody’s shoulder-to-shoulder because a few other networks bought their way into the space for the Singapore race. Right when your mind settles back into the focus of work, though—

“Here,” he says, his voice rough and tickling your ear. You nearly stumble forward, shocked at how his voice almost vibrates through you, a low trill that ripples top to bottom.

His hand settles at the small of your back, like his verbal confirmation wasn’t enough on its own; it’s big and his thumb rubs softly at the smooth strip of skin in-between your low skirt and your top. “Passing through.”

“Sure,” you say, dry. “Sorry.” You clear your throat and cant backwards into his touch—briefly, before you step forward and allow him to pass fully. Across you, Lissie looks up from her phone and you sense her trying to gauge why you’re so close to Max.

You blink and wait for him to disappear, wondering what you’ll tell her—how, more like. How the conversation even opens. How you’d phrase the truth, which in itself is a horribly grey area. Well, Lis, if you must know, Max and I have casual sex. A lot. It’s actually not very casual. We stopped now, but—yes, Max. That Max, yes.

“What about Max?”

Your eyes snap upward and then to your left, where you can see Max’s figure disappearing into a crowd of engineers. They return to Lissie and you feign confusion to mask panic. “What?”

“You were spacing out and then suddenly said his name.” She presses the tip of her pen onto her chin, humming. She doesn’t look at you and you thank God for it—eye contact would’ve rattled the truth out of you in seconds.

“I…” You shake your head. “I was irritated with—I’ve been irritated with him all morning. It’s. Yeah.”

“Oh,” she says, nodding, looking away for a second but not pausing. “Oh, okay. D’you wanna go over this edit again?”

��

The stale air of his hotel room, alleviated only by the vaguely fragrant linen spray they use when he’s out, is what greets Max when he arrives in the afternoon.The first thing he does—the only task he’d even thought of en route here—after the door clicks shut is pull up his Messages app and type.

Just got to hotel. He tosses his phone onto the bed while he waits, tugs his cap off and rakes reckless fingers through his hair. His new stylist’s got him onto jeans that don’t “look painted on” (you once said, verbatim), but he’d rather die than lounge in denim, so he swaps them out for just his Calvins.

His mind’s lethargic, but even his version of lethargic is high-drive for others—his brain has the silly tendency to work in absolute overdrive. He itches for a drink and orders a Scotch on the telephone. He checks his phone, which is lying facedown still, and as soon as he picks it up it chimes with your reply.

OK, nice. Did u need something?

No, just wanted to let you know. He hits send, then adds another. You’re off @ 8?

Ended early, I’m in the car. He’s in the middle of drafting a response when you send a follow-up.

I thought we agreed no contact unless business

He scoffs out a dry laugh. Despite himself, he reads the text in your voice, his brain completing the image of the bossy tone with crossed arms and a wickedly arched brow. In response he types: Can’t even update a friend nowadays? I am very tired you know.

Rules are rules, he reads. Then, Get some rest.

Yeah. Got a drink.

I said rest, not drink. Even then he can hear the exasperation in your voice.

How was work? I hurt a muscle doing training. That’s why I’m at the hotel early.

Feel better soon, you send. Had some press stuff today. Boring shit

Yeah? I missed you today.

Really?

A lot. He hums and leans backward, lets his head settle into the pillow, the smell of the linen spray consuming his nostrils. He waits for his phone to buzz, vibrate softly on the hard surface of his chest. It does, after a few minutes, after he’s let his eyes shut and let himself rest them for a bit, after the room service comes knocking and gives him the Scotch he’d requested while ago.

He’s back sitting on his bed when it vibrates. He picks it up and reads: How much?

You’re awfully easy to rile up. He smiles around the rim of his glass—he knows exactly where this is heading.

So much I think I’ll watch some videos of us.

The only caveat of casual sex as two people who essentially dislike each other is the fact that it’s all under wraps—which means if you two try to sneak off together, or are even caught in the same vicinity, people raise suspicions. And that means there are weeks where you barely get to fuck.

And that means you both grow antsy for it. He makes fun of you for being needy, when you’re tipsy and palming at the denim of his jeans or when you bend over when you know he’s looking. But the truth is he grows needy for it, too, craves you like you’re all that matters—he gets extra handsy, drops another innuendo when he knows you’re listening. There is a case to be made that he’s worse, in fact, because fans sometimes skirt around his words and wonder why he sounds so flirty when you’re the reporter in the room.

It was difficult but eventually he found a minor workaround: sometimes he films the two of you. There’s none of those propping his phone up kind of stuff, he just fishes for it in the middle of fucking you so he can store it for himself. It’s locked on his phone and he only has a few (the few has grown in number lately), but God it gives him release when he needs it and you’re not there.

I’ll call you when I’m at the lobby, comes the response. It’s always futile, the attempts to stay away from each other.

He pulls up the folder and lets his eyes skate over the thumbnails, squeezes himself through his boxers. Fuck. He can’t seem to decide what he wants to watch—the ones of you sucking him off, the ones of his fingers stretching you out. He recalls the whine in your voice in each of them, the pleads that escaped you for him to fuck you harder.

So Max, for the life of him, can’t even count how many times these videos have made him cum. But there’s one he hasn’t seen yet—the one he took the night before you two parted. You’d become extra needy on this night, preceding the season, he supposes, the separation. You already were anticipating the deprivation, starved for him more than usual. He’d have kissed you pretty, given you one orgasm after another and still you’d want more. And on this night it was you who asked him to film, you who wanted all of them on tape, so you’d both have something to tide you over until he got to fuck you again.

He pulls his cock out and strokes over it. And with his other hand, he presses his thumb on that video.

In it he’s fucking you in the dark, keeping the phone’s flashlight on your pussy as he sinks his cock into you. When he pulls back out the light reflects on the slick coating his dick, makes it glisten. It looks so wet, sounds so wet, with each thrust into you. He remembers just how it feels; he imagines that he’s back in your bed, fucking you again; that his fist is your pussy, and the spit lubricating it is the wetness that’s drooling out of you on camera.

He can see how tight you are—the way your pussy grips the shaft each time he pulls his cock out, greedy for him. Just like you.

The two of you were supposed to be quiet, too. You were at a hotel, your room beside another driver’s; you were supposed to be careful not to stir anyone. But your moans are louder than he remembers; so is the way you say, breathily, between gasps, Right there, Maxie, m’so close. Max inhales through his teeth, his cock throbbing at that—that Maxie, the cute little whimper out your mouth.

He strokes himself faster, watches the way your fingers slip into frame to rub at your clit, his thrusts getting sloppier and sloppier. He can see, hear—feel how wet you are, the sound of your cunt growing wetter with every thrust. He hears his own voice again, mutter out So good for me, yeah? And your babbled affirmation in response.

You cum hard, your slick getting everything wet and shiny and Max watches himself cum next. His dick’s already spurting when he pulls out and lets himself release on your lower stomach, some of it shooting onto your tits. He blinks, anchors himself back, quickens his wrist and digs his heels into the bed to keep himself from coming. Just a second longer. He knows what comes next and he needs to see it.

Like clockwork, he watches two of your fingers swipe through his cum, bringing them up to your lips. You blink up at the camera and smile. Quit it, your lips mouth, pink and cum-slick. Put it down, Maxie… fill me up again. He releases in weak spurts over his fist, a damp, flushed grunt escaping him as he does. He feels like the air’s been knocked out of him.

His phone rings and he presses it to his ear. “Hey, angel. Come on up.”

One week later

“Vodka,” you say to the bellboy when you get to the elevator. “To my hotel room. Very cold. Please. And thank you.”

The guy scurries off to fetch it for you, and five minutes and one elevator ride later, you're wrestling himself into your room, flexing your sore foot. Japan does hotel rooms well. The leather of your Manolo digs into your foot the way it does after you’ve walked the entire day and you can feel a blister forming on the back of your right heel but it doesn’t really matter, you guess, if you’re already home. Hotel-home, anyway.

You expect to find solace lounging on your bed, waiting out the hours to your morning briefing for the race and throw back a glass or two of vodka.

Instead, you find Max on your couch. He’s sipping ice-cold vodka—your ice-cold vodka.

“Hey, pretty,” he says. “Good vodka. I got staff to wire my FIFA on the TV.”

You just stare. “My TV. What,” you say, your eyes spotting the bottle of frosty vodka by his glass, “are you doing here?”

“I hadn’t seen you all day and I wanted to,” he explains simply. “Do you want food or something?”

“Food? I—nevermind,” you shrug. You’re frozen by the door, only just warmed now from the cold air that bit at your bare legs. “Max, how long have you been here?”

“Since Will Buxton started the post-FP debrief,” he huffs. He fiddles with the remote in his grip and extends it to the TV, where FIFA comes to life. “Aw, come on, angel. I know, I know. No sex and all that. I just like your company, you know?”

“Please. Go fuck yourself,” you scoff, toeing off your shoes and wiping your hands on the fabric of your skirt. He says one thing but you expect another—it’s only natural, given all the other times one of you had failed to keep a similar promise. But still you walk yourself beside him, fix the strap of your short dress, and allow him to pour you a drink.

“You know what I’ve been thinking about lately?” He asks absently. “About how you’re always having these talks with me about… about not having sex anymore, but you never even last two days.” He raises you the glass. “What is it, relapsing?”

“Fuck you,” you mutter. “It’s only because you keep trying to get me all hot and bothered.” You recall each time: in Monaco, in Madrid, in France. “Maybe if you got off my back once in a while, we’d be back to normal.”

He shrugs. “You just don’t have strong resolve.”

“Excuse me?” You scoff, irritation scratching at your throat.

“Wanna test that out? Come play.”

Your eyes flit over to the bright screen, all exhaustion cleared from your system. An animated Kylian Mbappe kicks a football in a loop. “Fine. One round and you’re out of my room.” He throws his hands up in surrender and you make a move to sit next to him. Max puts his hands out towards you then, nodding. You mistake it for some handshake, accept them, and then he’s wrangle you onto his lap facing outward. You feel your pulse at your throat as he pulls you tight against him.

“This is cheating,” you say, your voice dry.

“You got it wrong. Teaching.”

He moves his fingers atop yours, explaining what to press, what goes where, what to do for this or that. He can smell your perfume, hear your stilted breaths, and when he peeks over your shoulder he can see where your dress falls loose, showing the lace of your bra and your tits underneath them.

If he had it his way, he’d hike your dress up and have you ride him. But he’s given you a challenge.

You play a practice round and end up scoring a few goals, fingers making quick work of the buttons. Behind you, Max watches, content, answering your questions when you ask them hurriedly—how do I do this? That? Did I just score?

You score once, then twice, then three times, and before you know it you’re scoring in quick succession. The game is fun—it’s easy. If Max was trying to give you a hard time, he failed. You grow determined, competitive within seconds (something he really should’ve anticipated), and you’re scoring goals with skill that you’d confidently say rivals Max’s.

Max. You almost—almost forget he’s there, and then you sit up straighter and you’re hit with the sensation of his dick pressing into your ass. You inhale sharply and the controller clatters to the floor.

“You okay, pretty?” His hand comes up to rest on your knee, inching closer and closer with every hitch of your breath. Your hand, now free of the controller, seizes his, stopping it right at the middle of your thigh.

“I’m fine.”

“Yeah? You look stressed.” He doesn’t move. “You were so close, too, weren’t you?” The score stares you right in the face: 4-5. “Maybe you just need to get your mind off it.” It’s so bullshit, so extremely obvious, but he’s right in your ear and his hand is so near where you’ve missed its presence.

You’re usually competitive. You can usually hold your ground. But with this and him—

“Maybe,” you breathe, loosening your grip. He spreads his legs, spreading yours in the process, and brings his hand closer, running slender fingers over the lace material of your underwear until you’re squirming. It grows damper the more he touches, your mouth hanging open with stunted whimpers.

“You always come back to me, schatz, don’t you,” he says, whispers against your ear. You wrench a moan out. “Remember the first time? You interviewed me in Abu Dhabi… you teased me the whole day and begged to come thrice in my room. The time in Monaco you touched yourself to me when I was in the next room. The time we almost hooked up in Miami…” He groans, to himself more than you. “You’re a dirty girl.” He’s curling two fingers inside of you now, grazing against the sweet spot pulls the most delicious moans out of your innocent mouth.

“Every time… you go, that was the last time.” While your mind recaps the memories he’s busy spelling into your ear, Max’s fingers are curling inside of you against that sweet spot just right, and your moans are getting louder and louder.

“Fuck,” he huffs, watching your flushed face get more and more euphoric.

“Aw, pretty, look at that,” Max laughs. He’s looking at your thighs, watching the way they tense and shake as his fingers stroke your g spot. Each pump and curl into your twitching pussy feels better and better, and your dripping walls are starting to clench around his fingers.

“Wait, I—I can’t,” you pant, lolling your head onto his shoulder and involuntarily bucking your hips upward.

“Yeah you can,” he orders. “It’s so easy to get you to cum, isn’t it? Or is that just for me? The driver you hate the most?” He laughs. “Get all wet for the guy you couldn’t care less about. Say you hate me and get my dick nice and wet the next day.” You’re grinding onto his three fingers now, shameless with it.

“Are you gonna cum?” He asks.

“Oh,” you whine. “Yeah, fuck—yes.”

“Tell me what you’re gonna do,” he says wickedly. You can hear him smile.

“I’m gonna—please—I’m gonna cum,” you pant, tension coming to a halt and then bursting all at once out of you. His other arm holds your hips down against him, and you spend a minute and another twitching, your skin sticky with sweat and slick.

It’s not long before you’re whirled back to face him, your hands making quick work of his jeans. It’s a skill you’ve both mastered, the art of the quickie—in closets, hotel rooms, with sweaty, open-mouthed kisses pressed along the column of your throat, moans swallowed.

He hikes your dress up and your panties to the side, immediately bullies his cock into you—the glide is slow, but easy. You’re so fucking wet.

“Fucking big,” you gasp out. “Jesus, Jesus—fuck.” Your head drops and presses against his; he uses the opportunity to kiss you. You moan into it, feeling the stretch, your slick wetness dragging down the length of him as he thrusts up, up, further. “Been a while.”

“Feel good, though, yeah?” Your toes curl and you nod; you’re flushed all over and you need him to hurry up. You grind downward, onto him. He does, then, fucks you hard and fast, like he’s thirsted for this for way longer than he did. You’re squirming, all wet, and it tempts him to go harder. Your face is shiny with sweat, lips drawn in between your teeth.

“Slo—slow down,” you manage, babbling; he doesn’t, speeding up his thrusts until you’re moaning his name. “Max—wait—fuck, you’re so mean,” you whine, wrapping your arms around him and letting him take control.

“You’re fine,” he grunts, pulling out almost all the way. “You take my dick so well, schatz, every fucking time. Don’t you?”

“I do,” you gasp out, and he’s slamming into you gain. You cry out loudly, sniffling from the overstimulation—you’d barely recovered from your initial orgasm and already you’re hurtling into what feels like three at the same time.

“For someone who doesn’t like me,” he sneers, “you sure do moan like a slut, huh?”

His words get you more turned on than you’re willing to admit, but you shake your head.

“No?” He laughs, breathy from the effort. “Maybe I should film you now. Send it to your boss, let him see his stellar reporter’s getting Verstappen’s dick wet.”

Finally, the tension building inside of you reaches a head, and your pussy starts to twitch around his dick. He notices, grunts sharply and leans forward, shuddering as he releases into you. Your moans are choked and tapering into whimpers as you release slick all over him, and you attempt to catch your breath, collapsing onto his still-clothed, now-sticky chest. You scratch at the dri-fit material and inhale him, the smell of his cologne, his sweat. You bite at his earlobe, laugh when he flinches.

“That,” you say into his skin, “was the last time.” It’s both seriously and as a joke, playing off of what he’d remarked earlier.

“Jesus, princess. I’m still inside you.”

You giggle and drum lightly along the plane of his chest. In a few minutes he’ll pick you up to shower, but now you’re content to inhale him in. Quietly you wonder why you just can’t get enough of him—if you were in better senses, you’d have realized he was thinking the same thing about you.

#f1 #max verstappen #max verstappen smut #max verstappen imagines #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen x reader #f1 x reader

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baekuras · 2 years ago

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My coworker in regards to cutting my hair “you just need to find one stylist who does it right and stick with them-you were super happy with your hair the last time, why don’t you just go to them again?” Me thinking of the last 4 people who the same thing happened with “they left”

#txts #babe honey bae darling #i fucking would if i could #either i hate my haircut even though its technically a good one #like good execution #wrong fucking style goodbye #or the ppl i rly like and get along with and who cut my hair well fucking leave #i'd need to pay 30bucks and drive about 2 to 3 hours just to get to the one stylist of whom i know where they went #and that isnt worth it to me even if i only go visit every once in a blue moon #oh and also i dont like the general atmosphere or strangers touching me in general so yeah still dont like haircuts #anyhow all this to say i cut a bit of my own hair today and i need to cut it more bc i vibe w/ it #i also wanna take off some lenght in the back but i am a bit scared of that bc i dont have eyes in the back #going w/ good old messy layers and all that again bc #A its easy #and B curls nd waves help hide imperfections there #cuz shit wont be too even either way #and w/ layers i wont have the thing i hate #which is super straight super blunt cuts #i do not want that on my head pls #every time i talk about hair i remember the last time i went to a hairdresser #who curled my hair up at the ends towards my head #like some...idfk princess bob #but like rly oldschool #which....honey.....no #he didnt even cut my fringe even tho i asked him to which also rip #nor added layers #god we have so many hairdressers in this city there should be one in A my pricerange and B my style somewhere #and who i also vibe w/ on a personal level #just me and my right hand as always #that sounds so wrong which is why i'm keeping that sentence exactly as is

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kozachenko · 6 months ago

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Finally decided to play around with my old lineless style again! Also figured out a way to draw Reimu that I actually really like!

Artist's Notes;

I've mentioned in a few earlier posts that I've been wanting to draw in my lineless style again for a while as a way to test what I've learnt from my previous style in regards to lighting. I did the face first and then for a while was thinking about doing a full body illustration of Reimu just to draw her outfit again. I'll talk about the face first since that's the first drawing I did in this batch.

For the longest time I really couldn't find a way to translate Reimu's face into my style. I was able to make her clothes work out well, just not really her face. I did like elements of how I drew her face a few other times, namely the tiny eyebrows and her pupils, but they didn't really feel like Reimu to me, or at least how I imagined her in my head. I then realized that it was less of a problem with the entire face and moreso the eyes, and it took me quite a bit of trial and error to make something that I was happy with. Also, as much as I thought the tiny eyebrows were cute, it didn't really make sense with her character. Like, from what I know about Japanese history, plucking your eyebrows was something that nobles (rich people) would do, and since Reimu is...neither of those things, I decided to just give her some thicker eyebrows instead (I will be saving the plucked eyebrows for another character though, so they will return). After I got to a face I was happy with, my next challenge was the hair. I did the front part first and liked that enough to continue, and then after more trial and error I realized that deep down I was a short-hair-Reimu-is-best-Reimu-truther this whole time because once I gave up on the long hair and gave her shorter hair something just clicked in my brain. And so, after drawing her outfit in again (this time without the yellow tie which is kinda sad but I'll find a way to incorperate it into future designs because it just was not making sense to me in context with the rest of the outfit) and finnicking around with the bow, I came to a version of Reimu's face that I actually liked. I thought that it made more sense for her character to have her cut it short, mainly because she's doing a bunch of Youkai extermination and she has to keep her hair out of her face somehow. I still wanted to make it kinda messy though, as Reimu is probably too lazy to clean it up herself. I think another reason I like it so much is because in Forbidden Scrollery, Moe Harukawa gave Reimu short hair and that really suited her, so I guess that was just a subconcious reason as to why I liked it so much. I also think that the shorter hair helps to separate her a lot from Marisa, as I think Marisa looks really good with longer hair. Speaking of, now I wanna do a drawing of her and Reimu together to really solidify how I draw them (unlike the previous version where it was just them standing). As much as I do like the face, I am concerned if she looks too much like how I drew Keiki now, but that might just be a product of the stylistic choices I made with her eyes and I might just be overthinking it. I am hyperaware of same face syndrome so that's probably the reason I'm so concerned about it lol.

Now for the fully body drawing. I was struggling to think of a good pose for her, so I just took a picture of myself and used that as a reference while still making slight adjustments for readability's sake. This is another case of, "I've looked at this too long and can spot every single issue with it" but this time I'm still happy with the final product mainly because this was a test drive for how I want to develop my lineless style in the future and for what it is I am more than pleased with the result. The main reason I deviated away from my lineless style was mainly because I was having a hard time with the lighting and making it interesting, and I am so glad that I've finally found a way to make it work! I'm especially happy with the clothes, as I think clothing folds are really fun to draw. I was somewhat inspired by the works of J.C. Lyendecker and the way he draws clothes, though admittedly it is not a one to one, since I mainly wanted to try implying the shading of the clothing folds with shapes (I do really want to do a study of his style one day as his art is incredible). So for the sleeves, I drew in a bunch of triangles where I wanted there to be a strong highlight, roughly coloured in the inside, and then blended them all so it looks like a more subtle. On both of these drawings, I also added in a noise filter to give it some texture (as that's what I used to often do with my drawings) and while I do like it, I might want to experiment with making it more subtle in the future, as it's pretty noticeable in both these drawings. Overall, I'm really happy with the lighting and colours of this drawing, and while I could nitpick several aspects of it (her hand holding the gohei looks too tense, I tried making her look like she was standing on the balls of her feet but the positioning of her Gohei's trail of papers ends up making it look weird, and I could've put more effort into the hair and bow and so many more things), this is more of a piece for me to experiment with my style again, and I'm excited for when I get a new idea for a piece, as I really wanna try some more stuff out with this style!

#touhou project #art #fanart #touhou fanart #reimu hakurei #own art #東方project

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finelinevogue · 11 months ago

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notes on love

summary - harry attends the football and you attend the baftas

pairing - fiance!harry x famous!reader

word count - ~1.5k

*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*

It was the first time Harry had made a public appearance in months.

Sans a hat on his head.

After braving a shave to solidify a new chapter in his life, Harry had decided that enough was enough and he just wanted to be seen again. Gain some new publicity.

“I can’t do this.” Harry’s voice rang through your phone.

Your phone was currently propped up on the vanity in front of you, whilst your stylist gracefully worked around you to get your hair and makeup done.

“H, baby. You’re going to a football match where over half the population there will be white bald men. You’ll blend right in.”

You took a sip of your apple juice in its carton as you suppressed a laugh. Harry rolled his eyes at you, taking the joke like the good sport he is.

“I actually have more hair than them. I’m not bald anymore.”

“See! Embrace the new hair, H. You look really good.”

Harry smiled at you then, his eyes which had previously been darting between watching you and looking out the moving car window were now permanently on you.

“Not as beautiful as you, though, love.”

“Don’t even have my makeup on yet.”

“Never needed it.”

You blew him a camera kiss for those words alone.

“Where are you now?” You reached for a slice of pineapple from the bowl of fruit you’d ordered from room service.

“About five minutes away I think. Are you still in the hotel?”

“Yeah. Don’t need to be ready until 5.”

You were getting ready for the BAFTAS, which Harry had hoped to be there with you for but you’d decided to take your nan as your date instead since she wanted to spend as much time with you as possible.

Harry was more than happy to let Nana, as he liked to call her, be your date to the BAFTAS. Plus, it meant that he could go see the football.

“You’re going to look so pretty.”

Harry had helped your pick out your dress, which was a sophisticated black to contrast the red carpet you’d be walking down. The dress itself was beautifully cut and shaped you in all the right places, making you look elegant and regal.

“I’m nervous.” You picked up your phone so the conversation felt a little more intimate, even though it was still over face-time.

“Why, love?”

“Don’t normally do stuff like this without you.” You pouted.

Harry wished he could kiss that pout away, “And yet the times that you do, you always end up winning! It’s like they never want you to win when i’m there.”

It was a running joke that Harry was your ‘bad luck charm’.

You didn’t believe that though. It’s just that other actors performed better and won, over you, because of it. If anything, you always won because you got to go home and drink hot tea and eat popcorn with your Harry.

“I’ll miss you.” Your face was so close to the camera that Harry could probably see up your nose.

“I miss you. Send me photos when you’re getting ready. I wanna see you before anyone else.”

“Okay.” You smiled. It was routine at this point to always show each other’s public outfits before anyone else.

“Have you got your ring?”

You held up your left hand and wiggled your ring finger in front of the camera. You blushed thinking about the moment that you got given the piece of delicate jewellery, with Harry on one knee.

“Always.”

“You going to wear it on the carpet?”

“Of course. Not going to draw attention to it though. I’ll let people discover it for themselves.”

Harry laughed at the thought. You two were practically the biggest, most A-List, celebrity couple around at the moment and so when people watch sight of you with the ring there’s no doubt it’s all people will talk about for weeks.

Someone told Harry they’d arrived at the venue, then.

“I have to go, honey, but text me updates please. Wanna see you get ready through photos, okay?”

“Okay.” You promised. “Text me to let me know you’re safely home later, please.”

Even though he was going back to his Manchester home, you still liked to know that he was safe and sound. Especially since you were in London and weren’t going to get to be with him tonight.

“Will do. I love you.” Harry kissed his fingers and then dotted them over the camera.

You returned the gesture, “I love you. Bye, bye, bye!”

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

You were just finishing getting ready and scrolling through Twitter.

Harry was trending worldwide for showcasing his new hair. His growing hair. No one had seen him like this since the end of Tour last year.

You pouted because you missed him a lot.

People were absolutely loving it. As always, a lot of people were losing their shit over Harry content. You were too, because you missed him.

“Oh, he looks so good!” Your stylist, Jamie, gasped behind you.

Jamie was currently fixing your hair and you had to say they had done an impressive job.

“I know.” You smiled to yourself.

“He looks like a sexy CEO.”

You laughed out loud at that, “When he puts on his glasses he does.” You agreed.

“Harry wears glasses?” Jamie gasped.

“Yeah, hang on..”

You started to go through your camera roll. It was only a few days ago that he had gotten new glasses, because he’d managed to lose his old ones. Typical.

You stopped on a photo of Harry sat in bed with the duvet up on his chest, a book in his lap and his glasses on. He didn’t realise you had taken the photo of him, but it was now one of your favourites.

“Oh damn…” Jamie gasped. “If your marriage ever goes south, tell him I’ll be available.”

You laughed again, shaking your head in dismissal but also approval.

You went back to Twitter to see if any of the Harrie accounts you follow have tweeted anything. You make yourself laugh as you look through their feral comments.

And just because you like to cause a riot on the internet you liked an insane tweet.

harriesmiles: the way that this photo makes me want to cling onto harry like a koala bear and never let go

It wasn’t long before you were trending with Harry.

Then the face-time call comes through from him.

“Am I done?” You asked Jamie quickly.

He nods, knowing you routine with Harry, and allows you to slip into the bathroom next to the bedroom.

You answered the call shortly after locking the bathroom door.

“Hellooo.” You said in a weird voice, feeling hyper from the Twitter craze.

“Hi, babe.” Harry was obviously outside and trying to watch where he was going, more than looking at you.

“Has the match finished?”

“Yeah.” And you honestly didn’t care enough about football to ask how it went. “Are you ready?”

Harry’s eyes flicked down to his screen momentarily, smirking when he catches sight of your glammed out makeup.

One thing Harry loved more than anything was you in a red-lip, so of course you had to make sure you had one for him - despite the fact he couldn’t kiss it off you tonight.

“What?” You giggled, watching him trying to suppress his smirk in public.

“You’re so annoying. I’m trying to act all cool and mysterious here and you’re making me smile like an idiot.”

You dipped your head and smiled, accentuating the blush that was already powdered onto your cheeks.

“H, honey, you’re walking through the streets of Manchester. No one cares about how you act. They’re probably all drunk anyways.”

“True, true.”

“Did you have a pint?” You propped your phone on the counter.

“Uh, yeah.” He said whilst trying to cross a road.

“Love, do you want to call me back when you’re at less risk of being hit by a car?” You sarcastically asked.

“No!” He yelped. “No. Needs to be now.”

You gave him a confused look but carried on regardless.

You shuffled back in the bathroom, giving him a full angle.

You watched in anticipation as Harry looked at you through his tiny screen, wishing it were ten times bigger.

“Wow.” Was all he said and you giggled like a girl having a high-school crush. “I love you so much.”

“So you like?” You swished your dress from side to side.

“Mhm. Wishing I wasn’t so far from you now.”

“Tomorrow. I’ll have all the kisses for you then.”

“Tomorrow it is, then.” Harry smirked to himself, kissing the camera.

Little did you know that tomorrow was coming a lot sooner. In fact, Harry had been running for the earliest train out of Manchester and down to London for the duration of the phone call. Because Harry was always going to show up for you.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #ask finelinevogue #harry blurb #finelinevogue #harry styles concept #harry oneshot #harry styles blurbs #harry styles fic rec

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murdockcastleslut · 13 days ago

Text

meddle about

an outerbanks band au! | a jj maybank and rafe cameron smau

synopsis: after competing and winning the battle of the bands, the sirens were offered a record deal, launching them into stardom. when they are about to go on their first world tour, the band is faced with the decision of who they will open for them. they choose the swell, their runner-up in the battle of bands two years prior. with a rocky past with some members of the swell, y/n, the leader singer of the sirens, must tread carefully not cause anymore problems during this choatic tour.

intros | prologue | part one

tw: mentions of depression, anxiety, adhd, addiction, child abuse (emotionally and mentally), alcohol, weed, cocaine, homophobia, and sex.

word count: 2.1k

author's note: finals week kicked my ass but we slay and i put out a new chapter of something finally

thursday, august 15th, 2024

You took one last puff from your cigarette before throwing it down to the ground and smothering it with your sneaker. You let out a loud sigh before grabbing the handle of the door and walking back into the first stop of The Lie to Girls Tour.

As you walk in you notice how the venue has come to life with roadies sending everything up for later that night. You start walking towards your dressing room when someone calls out your name.

You turn my head and see Ward Cameron making a B-line for me. You roll my eyes and stop in front of him.

“What do you want, Ward?” You ask the manager of The Swell and Sarah’s father.

He gives you a sneer and folds his arms to assert dominance over you.

“Where is Sarah?” He asks with a stern look on his face.

I let out a chuckle.

“I don’t know where she is, Ward, but I can be damn sure she doesn’t wanna talk to you.” You say before walking away from the older man.

You walk towards your dressing room and look around yourself diligently hoping you don’t see him. You make it to your dressing room and open the door to see Sarah getting her hair done by the band’s hair stylist, Aubree, and Cleo getting her make-up done by the band’s make-up artist, Kimora. You walk in, letting the door close behind you, and go straight for the couch that Kie is sitting on and lay your head on her lap.

“Your dad’s a dick, Sarah,” I say with my eyes closed enjoying the atmosphere of the room. Kite lets out a muted snort.

“I know he is, but what did he do now?” She asks, twisting to look behind her at you on the couch.

“Nothin, just asked where you were. But I guess he didn’t even bother to look because anyone else could have told him that you were here.”

“Did you tell him where I was ?”

“Fuck no, that would mean I would have to spend five minutes walking with him here. I would rather spend the night in whatever torture chamber Satan's got prepared for that man.”

The whole room laughs but you. You weren’t joking, you were serious.

“How’d you even bump into him girlie?” Cleo asks?

“Went for a smoke out on the side.” You reply nonchalantly.

Everyone in the room this time groans.

“I don’t like this judgment I’m getting from everyone. I hardly smoke cigs anymore! We are Texas and I’m not tryna get arrested before we have even gotten on stage.” I defend.

“I guess that’s acceptable,” Kie says, tapping your nose.

You scrunch your face at her.

“So how are you girls feeling? The first night of your basically sold-out tour.” Aubree asks as she finishes the final curls on Sarah’s hair.

“So excited, man. I have a good feeling about tonight.” Cleo smiles.

“Oh my god, knock on wood right now, Cleo! You’re gonna jinx us!” You exclaim sitting up from Kie’s lap.

“I don't think it’s…”

“I swear to god, you better knock.”

Cleo doesn’t say anything but rolls her eyes and knocks on the ledge of the vanity in front of her.

Kie looks at you and sighs.

“Babe I mean this in the nicest way possible, did you take your meds today?” She questions.

“Yes, I did.” You roll your eyes at her question.

“So excited and nervous.” Aubree takes it away.

“She’s just nervous about interacting with JJ.” Sarah spills.

“What the fuck! No, I am not! I could care less what the dipshit thinks.” You refute.

Just as you finish, the band stylist, Jess, walks into the dressing room holding everyone’s outfit.

“So you didn’t text me saying you literally have to look sexier than sexy this whole tour to show JJ he’s an idiot.” Jess chimes in.

You let out a loud groan.

“Damn it, Jess. You just fucked my whole I don’t care vibe.” You whine.

Everyone lets out a chuckle at your reaction.

“Well, I’ll have you know that the outfit I picked up is killer.” Jess smiles.

“Lemme see!” You sit up excited like a child at Christmas.

She puts all the outfits on the rack and pulls out yours.

Everyone in the room, oohs and ahhs.

“Oh Jess, you are a magic baby!” You laugh.

She smiles and shakes her head and walks over to you to give you the hanger.

“Get changed, I wanna see how it looks on you.” She demands.

“Yes, ma’am.” You smile and get up off the couch. You go behind the divider and get undressed and put on the outfit that she had chosen for you.

You get changed into a faux leather corset and a black faux leather skirt.

When you step out from behind the divider, everyone in the room whoops and whistles.

“Get in my chair now,” Aubree exclaims. “I have the best idea.”

You giggle and nod excited to see what she had in store for your hair. As Aubree works on your hair, Kimora starts on your make-up.

The room is filled with laughter, music, and singing. Aubree is done with your hair pulled into a slick back 90’s spiky bun when there’s a knock on the door. She gives your hair one more spritz of hairspray before going to grab the door.

When she opens the door, the once loud and obvious room is now dead silent. JJ Maybank is standing in front of the door.

He looks around uneasily and then looks at you. He is in awe of the way you look.

“Is there a reason you’re here?” Aubree sneers at him in an unkind tone.

“Uh-uh i-uh..” He keeps staring at you.

“Yo pervert, either say something or get out.” Kimora scolds him.

“Yeah- uh sorry,” he keeps his eyes on you. “Ward sent me to get you, says Minerva is looking for you.”

You scrunch your eyebrows in confusion. What the fuck? You think to yourself.

“Anything else?” Kimora questions, their tone suggesting he’d leave.

“He said I had to walk you there…” He hesitates.

“She’ll be out in a minute.” She says before shutting the door in his face.

You turn to the other girls with your eyes widened in confusion. They all shrug at you not knowing what is going on. You look at Sarah and mouth Your dad’s a dick. She sighs heavily and nods.

You look around the floor and put on your Doc Martens.

“Fucking bastard.” You mumble to yourself about Ward before opening the door.

You look at JJ with a sneer and wait for him to lead you to Minnie.

“So uh- I’m…” He stutters out and you cut him off with a glare.

The rest of the way to Minnie was silent. He did not try to utter another word to you.

When you find her, she is surrounded by roadies asking her questions about the final touches on the venue.

When she sees you and JJ together she gives you a strained smile. She knows that this is not a situation you want to be in.

“Thank you, Jackson. You can leave us.” She says coldly and wraps her arm around your shoulder. You giggle when she calls him his legal name and wrap your arm around her waist.

“You look like a good kid, everyone did you up real pretty.” She smiles down at you.

“They did, this team might be my favorite.” You smile up at her.

“Good, good…” She says as the two of you walk. “I gotta ask you a favor and I know you don’t wanna do it but Ward Cameron is up my ass and if I know if we make a fuss, which I want to, things will get leaked to the press and none of you kids need that right now.”

“What do you need, Minnie?” You furrow your brow.

“I need you, specifically, to sing a song with one of the members of The Swell. Ward wants it to be JJ for publicity to say there is no bad blood between the two of you, but he can kiss my ass. That is up to you to forgive him and only you, hun.”

“Jesus Min, this man is gonna be a pain in our asses all tour isn’t he?”

Minnie nods and that is all you need to know that it is going to be a long tour.

“Alright, I’ll do it. And I’m choosing the song.” You say.

“Sounds good to me. Break a leg, you’re gonna kill out there.” She offers a kind smile before reaching five steps away from you and she is surrounded by people who need to ask her questions.

You turn around and go back towards the dressing rooms. You look around looking for the name you need. You go up to the door and knock.

The door opens and you have a smirk up at him.

“How would you like to piss off your dad tonight.” You ask.

He doesn’t respond with words but instead, a sly smirk spreads across his face and he opens the door wider so that you can step inside.

—

The crowd was electric tonight. Even though most of The Swell’s songs were unknown to the crowd, they enjoyed it very much and it definitely helped that all the members were attractive.

You stand backstage getting mixed up as you watch from the sidelines. As the last song comes to an end JJ goes up to the middle mic.

“How’d y’all like that one?” He asks the crowd. They cheer and scream to show their enthusiasm.

“Good, good,” He chuckles into the mic. “Now I’m gonna hand this over to Rafe.”

Rafe is up from his drum set and someone is already taking his place. He runs up and daps up JJ before taking his place in front of the mic.

“Now, if you’re a fan of The Swell, you’ll know I don’t sing up in the front often but I wanted to treat y’all for the first show. And as for something extra special, I have a guest. But your hands together for Y/N L/N of The Sirens, everybody!” He exclaims.

The crowd goes while as your name is said and you step out on the stage. You give the band members a wave except JJ and head on over to Rafe.

“Hey, everyone, are these guys treating you well?” You ask into the mic. The crowd cheers in response. You smile seeing everyone enjoying themselves.

“I'm glad, so I have a question,” You look at the crowd. “Do y’all know Perfect by One Direction?”

The crowd erupts in total chaos.

“Seems like they know it, pretty girl.” Rafe flirts. You give him a smirk and move in closer.

“Seems like it, so y’all are gonna sing along with us?” The crowd erupts once again in cheers. “Alright let’s do it.” You smile at the crowd.

The music starts playing and you sway your body to the music coming from your ears. Rafe brings the mic to his lips and winks at you before he sings.

“I might never be your knight in shining' armor, I might never be the home you take home to Mother,” He sings to the audience. “And I might never be the one who brings you flowers,” He turns to you while pointing at himself and sings “I can be the one, be the one tonight.”

The crowd screams loving the chemistry the two of you are displaying

“ When I first saw you from across the room I could tell that you were curious,” You sing, looking up at him and checking him out.

“Oh, yeah,” The whole band harmonizes with you.

“Boy, I hope you’re sure what you’re looking for ‘cause I’m not good at making promises” You riff.

You and the whole band sing the chorus. But as you sing your eyes are locked on Rafe and his eyes are locked with yours.

When everyone gets to the line, “If you like to do the things we shouldn’t do,” you and Rafe are close. He has one hand on the mic and the other on your waist. You have two arms around his shoulders sharing the mic he was sharing. His gaze is locked with yours not daring to look away.

For the rest of the song the two of you are never less than a foot apart and when you are close one of you is touching the other. It was like you were the only people on stage even though you were performing in front of thousands.

Although you never looked away from the audience or Rafe, the one thing you could feel was JJ’s burning jealous gaze on your back.

after the concert...

taglist: @ivysprophecy @kimoralov3 @arkofblake @eddsthemunson @zyafics @papercranesandinkstains @jjslaybank @isnt-itstrange @ayy1234567 @upsidedownjill @mads-writes-vibes @shincidios @hittmeandtellmeyouremine @mattslutiolo @xoxo-ada @mariamsdison6-blog @eternallovers65 @smootbrainchicken @starsval @writer-who-rarely-writes @whorelaud @ame1le @me-ig1 @marleymarleymarleymarley @cassiewritessalot @everinlove @robinsgrl

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eilishalways · 1 year ago

Text

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

all you wanna do is kiss me

summary: billie eilish runs into her crush at the grammys 😻

warnings: a LOTTTT of blushing LMAO

a/n: so billie came out???!!!?? also - part two is out!!

billie was nervous. very nervous. not because she was at the grammy awards, but because you were gonna there. billie had a massive crush on you. since 6 months ago. it was all because of one cheeky insta post you had made. billie remembers freaking out when she saw it, and that’s when she knew. you two had talked to eachother at events before but weren’t actually friends or anything like that. billie was really hoping that something would change tonight.

as she took her seat beside finneas at the table, she half hoped you’d be on the other side of the hall, and half hoped you’d be sat beside her. the second part of her was happy. as you sat down, billie tried to suppress her giddy smile. she quickly noticed though, your perfume. musky and wet - you were wearing eilish no 2. billie freaked out in her head knowing that YOU were wearing HER perfume.

“hey billie!” you said. billie said hello back, and you greeted the rest of the table. “how are you?” you asked billie, a smile forming on your face. billie blushed slightly and replied, “i’m good - kinda nervous though. how about you?” “i’m nervous too. i really hope i win something tonight.” you laughed. last year’s grammys had been a bad one for you - you didn’t win anything. “i’m sure you’re gonna sweep it tonight,” billie reassured you, “your album was fucking amazing. i was listening on repeat for a week after it released.” she laughed, before regretting the oversharing she had done. you seemed eased though, and thanked billie for her support.

a waiter came round with flutes of champagne. you reached one, and billie did the same. you both reached for the same one, before billie removed her hand from your hand and grabbed a different one. you both laughed but you were both left blushing. billie didn’t notice this though.

“i like your dress.” billie said to you, trying to keep the conversation going. you smiled at her and replied “thank you!! i wasn’t sure if i liked it too much, but my stylist insisted. i’m so glad you like it.” billie blushed again at your comment, and became hyper aware of how red she must be at that point. you two continued to talk about your outfits, hair & makeup until a photographer came up to your table looking for photos. everyone at the table smiled for the group photos before the man moved on to taking photos of pairs. he waited to get a picture of you and billie until he was done, and billie tried not to all out scream when you pushed yourself into her arm to get in frame. the man went on to the next table, but you remained on her arm for a few seconds, saying to her “you look really good, by the way.”

billie was about to lose her cool at that point, so she was excused herself to the bathroom. she came back just in time for the awards to start being presented. she hasn’t put anything out that year, so she wasn’t nominated for anything, but she watched as the winners received their awards and made their speeches. the night was nearly finished and the final, biggest award of the night had its nominees announced - album of the year. you were among one of the nominees, alongside some very big names. you didn’t think you had any chance at all, but billie reassured you that everything would be fine.

“and the winner is… y/n l/n - (album name)!” the woman announcing the award said. you screamed in delight, and hugged billie. you slowly made your way up to the stage, accepted the award, and started your speech. you thanked your team, family, friends - all the usual stuff. but then, you thanked billie. you said into the mic “and i wanna say thank you to billie eilish. girl, you’re one of my biggest inspirations. i love you. i wear your perfumes every day! and thank you for being my hype girl tonight!!”, and then you walked off stage and back to your seat. you winked at billie before she blurted out “can i have your number?”

#eilishalways #billie eilish #billie eilish x reader

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borathae · 5 months ago

Text

Tenderness

"Jimin has a hard time accepting that people don't want to hurt him. Something about you makes him ease up however and because of it, he asks you to cut his hair. You help him gladly of course."

Pairing: Jimin x f.Reader

Genre: slight Angst, Fluff, Hurt and Comfort

Warnings: Jimin has trauma, he's scared but she makes him feel at ease, like please give this man a hug, innocent skinship, also they're just friends currently but idkkk there is so much tension between them, god i'm going insane actually

Wordcount: 2.6k

a/n: i'm actually so sad :( also listen. the hug was inspired by the way Jimin hugs :( i fucking want a Mimi Hug no JOKE </3

You are in the back garden, pruning the roses when someone suddenly steals the sunlight from you. It had once warmed your skin. The air feels chilly in the shadows all of a sudden.

You stop working, lifting your eyes at the person.

Jimin. Dressed in a long arm shirt and flowy pants, he walked through the grass barefoot and with his long hair tied back. The fabric of his shirt is striped in black and white. He is hiding his eyes behind a pair of dark sunglasses.

“You’re in my sun”, you tease.

“The sun doesn’t belong to you”, he throws backs sassily.

“I’d still prefer it if I had sunlight.”

“Too bad. I’m here now.”

You scoff in amusement, straightening up by rolling your shoulders. Such bickering is normal between you and him and amuses you these days.

“Do you wanna help me?” you offer him your second pair of pruning scissors, which he declines with a shake of his head.

“I have a, uh, favour to ask of you.”

You are working on the rose as you talk to him. He watches your movements with his eyes just slightly zoned out.

“What’s up?”

“Okay so, don’t laugh at me, but I talked to Tae and he said that you’re really good at cutting hair.”

“Yeah, I am. Nobody in this family wants to trust me, but I’m so good at cutting hair, like so good.”

He scoffs in amusement, reaching out to play with a rose leaf mindlessly.

“Sure you are.”

“Mh-hm, I am. Why did you ask him?”

“It’s just, I was wondering, uh, if maybe you want to do my hair.”

You stop working, studying him in surprise. You didn’t expect such a request.

“Your hair?” you make sure

Jimin nods his head.

“Sure, uh, yeah I can. Just...why me?”

“Because you’re good, I already told you. And because Tae can’t cut hair. He thinks that he can, but he is shit at it. Don’t tell him I said that.”

“I’m not better than a professional though. Wouldn’t a stylist be better than me?”

“No, uhm.” He shies away, touching his own neck in soothing. “I’m not ready to, uhm. It’s hard for me to have strangers touch me. I, I don’t know them and, and I… uhm, they could hurt me. Uhm, it’s hard, I guess.”

“Oh”, you realise, “gosh Jimin, I’m sorry that you feel this way. I understand your feelings and I’ll gladly cut your hair.”

“Thank you”, he whispers, “see you later then. In my wing. Bye.”

And with that, he flees, keeping his head low in embarrassment. You know that it wasn’t easy for him to share his feelings right now. He is a lot like Yoongi in that regard. Although Jimin is definitely that way because he was never truly allowed to feel. In more sense than one. Not only was he forced to keep his emotions off, he was also punished for any show of emotion which didn’t benefit his abusers. Sharing his feelings equalled being hurt to him in his past. So of course he fled the second he did it. You are still so proud of him for sharing his feelings. It means that he is healing.

You finish garden work and take a quick shower. Knowing Jimin, he meant the evening hours when he said “later” so you don’t feel too stressed about going to him.

After the shower, you have early dinner with Yoongi and Jungkook where you tell them that you will cut Jimin’s hair later and they show their expected surprise. When you tell them his reasons however, they react with empathy. They leave for a hunt after dinner, needing their own vampiric meals. You kiss each of them on their lips and wish them a good hunt, then you make your way upstairs to Jimin’s wing.

He always keeps his doors locked because he feels safer this way, resulting in you having to ring his doorbell.

All of you have doorbells installed, which makes it a lot easier to visit each other. It was Taehyung’s idea and Yoongi had to be the one to install them. He did it gladly, gloating about how easy it was once it was done.

Jimin opens the door after the first ring. He is in different clothes and judging by the slight pearls of sweat on his forehead, he has been dancing.

“Is it a good time?” you ask him.

“Yes. Come in.”

You step out of your house shoes once inside, while Jimin locks the door.

“Were you dancing?”

“Yes.”

“That’s nice. How’s the studio?”

“Good. I love the natural light in it.”

“It’s already dark though.”

“For you, yes. Not for me. The moonlight is better than sunlight”, he says and hurries past you, “wait in the living room. I need to shower.”

“Alright, will do.”

Jimin’s living room was once a guest bedroom. The one you stayed in during your first night at the estate to be more exact. Yes, That Night where Taehyung had actually planned on eating you before you, unknowingly, managed to change his mind.

The room once smelled of oakwood and myrrh, but smells like orange blossoms and clean wood these days. The walls changed out of their outdated grey coat into a cherry red dress. White ceilings and a decorated voute seem to practically glow next to the red and the ivory curtains give even more lightness to the otherwise warm-coloured room. The furniture is antique, but in perfect condition and throughout the room, Jimin placed vases with fresh flowers. He isn’t afraid to show his sensitive side these days. It reflects in how delicate the decorations in his wing feel.

You lie down on his sofa. Its red pillows swaddle you, inviting you to close your eyes for a while. It is so comfortable here.

You probably would have dozed off for a post-dinner nap if Jimin hadn’t woken you again. His steps are quiet normally, but the floorboards creaked under his weight as he walked to you.

You sit up, “I’m awake.”

“Sure”, Jimin says sarcastically, eyeing the deep dent you left in his throw pillow, “just so you know, that pillow is a hundred years old and the stitching is delicate.”

“Huh? Hm?” You look at the pillow, smoothing it out. “Sorry. Nothing happened, I swear.”

“Don’t sweat it. Can we start? I wanna get it over with”, he says and leaves the room again.

With a grieving heart – a nap sounded so good – you leave the comfortable couch to follow him.

You find him in his bathroom, sitting by the powder table in only his towel. The silver scar on his back contrasts against his black tattoos. He is tracing the entrance point of the scar on his chest mindlessly, but lifts his eyes when he senses your presence. His hand lowers, the self-disgust disappearing from his eyes. He shifts in embarrassment, clearing his throat.

Knowing him, he wants you to ignore his scar. He can’t stand it when people mention it. It is already awful enough that he has to look at it each time he undresses.

“Anything in particular you wanna get?” you ask him as you close in on him.

“Just shave it there and give it texture on top”, Jimin says, lifting up his hair to show you his neck.

“So undercut with some length on top?”

“Yeah. It’s hot and I need air.”

“Right? It’s so hot lately. This summer is insane”, you agree, picking up the shaver, “should we go with the setting you have on?”

“Yes. But make sure the fade is good.”

“I will, don’t worry. Is it okay for me to touch you?”

Jimin glances at you. Surprise and gratefulness. He can’t keep up eye contact, lowering his eyes at the table as he nods his head.

With his consent, you touch his hair. You run your fingers through it, eyeing his hands. They ball to fists at the first contact, tightening with such strength that his knuckles pale. He is scared.

“Did you practice choreography?” you ask him in hopes of distracting him.

“No I.” He clears his tightened throat. “I guess I just danced.”

“That’s nice too. I’ll shave it to up there. Is that alright?”

Jimin inspects the point you show him and nods his head. You pick up the shaver and turn it on. Jimin moves his head away when you put it close to him, flinches and moves back again.

“Sorry”, he whispers, glancing at you in embarrassment.

“Don’t apologise. Did you change your mind?”

“No.”

“Alright. Want a break?”

He shakes his head silently.

“Alright. Just tell me if you need it”, you say and put the shaver against his neck.

Jimin is tense during the first couple of shaves, but relaxes soon when his traumatized mind realizes that you genuinely don’t want him harm. He even opens his fists and begins playing with his bracelets mindlessly. Only around his ears, a certain stiffness returns to him and his eyes ghost over the shaver fearfully.

So you give him a break, soothing him by tracing his ears softly.

“Gotta clean you up”, you tell him even though both of you know that this was just an excuse to mask the gesture of comfort you give him. If you didn’t mask it, Jimin would get way too embarrassed however.

He is tense at first. His eyes switch between your hands, your face and the shaver you put aside.

You reach the spot right behind his ear where the harder point of his shell blends into the softness of his lobe. You rub it slowly. Jimin’s lids flutter, his head sways back just once before he fixes it again.

Another rub of the same spot and Jimin’s head rolls back again, lids closing halfway as goosebumps cover his skin. Yet another rub and he breathes so deeply that his chest lifts and sinks visibly, eyes closing for just a second before he forces them open again.

He straightens up, glancing at you in embarrassment. You act oblivious for his sake, giving his shoulders an innocent rub.

“There we go. Now you’re clean. I’ll continue.”

“Yeah. Okay”, he whispers, staring at you in the reflection of the mirror. He can’t truly make sense of the emotions in his chest and what they mean. He also can’t stop them and so he stares.

Jimin doesn’t flinch away anymore when the shaver touches him. You can finish the shaving without any more obstacles. He even stays calm when you shave him around his other ear. Only for a split second his neck tensed up, but relaxed within a breath because he felt safe more than he does troubled in your presence.

You place the shaver on the table and use a fluffy brush to sweep away any stray hair. The sensation sends shivers down his spine. He tries to cover them up as best as possible.

“Do you like the fade?”

“Yes. It’s, uhm, it’s what I wanted”, he speaks quietly, looking at himself with sparkling eyes. He doesn’t even notice that he is gazing, too mesmerised his new look has him.

“Nice. That’s good to hear. I’ll just do the texturing and then you’re done.”

“Yes. Thank you.”

His words are honest, bringing a smile to your lips.

“Of course.” You pick up the scissors, showing them to him. “I’ll use these.”

You give him time to observe the potential danger. He nods his head in consent. You begin. He doesn’t tense because you gave him the opportunity to prepare.

“Your hair is fun to work with. You’ve got so much of it.”

“Thanks. It’s hot during summer.”

“I can imagine. Should I take some length too?”

“Yes, please.”

You can finish the cut with no obstacles, moving on to the last step instantly. You clean him and then style him with a light mousse. He lets you with gratefulness in his eyes. Truly, he can’t stop looking at you. It is as if something about you has him captured. You don’t notice his eyes on you because you take your job as his hair stylist way too seriously and are blind to anything but his hair.

“There we go. Now you’re done. How do you like it?” you ask, finally meeting his eyes. For but a moment, your breath hitches. He never looked at you like this before. “Uh..”

Jimin clears his throat and shifts his eyes away. The air is charged between you and him, but neither tries to talk about it.

You take a step back. Jimin looks at himself for a while. His expression is stoic and if you didn’t know him better, you would think that he hates the haircut. In the end however, a small smile hushes over his lips and he nods his head.

“I like it.”

You smile proudly.

“I’m happy to hear that.”

He shimmies on the chair awkwardly, touching his new undercut.

“You can, uhm, leave now if you want to.”

“How about we clean up and then show Tae your new style?” you suggest because you know he doesn’t actually want you to leave, but thinks that you already want to.

“Yes. Okay.” He turns away to hide the giddy smile. “Do you think we can get him to watch a movie with us?”

“I think that he’ll be the one to suggest it.”

Jimin laughs. You laugh with him.

“Yeah, that actually sounds like him”, he agrees.

“I bet he wants to watch one of his boring French movies.”

“They’re not boring, you just have no taste.”

You laugh, “no I do. His movies are like five hours long. That’s way too long.”

“Don’t tell him that.”

“Oh honey, I do. He knows and teases me for it.”

You and Jimin share laughter. Your eyes meet. The tension in the air is almost suffocating.

His smile drops.

You stop laughing, feeling tight in your chest for but a second, “what’s wrong?”

Jimin stands up and turns to you so he can close the distance.

You instinctively take a step back, but Jimin still pulls you close.

He hugs you.

“Oh?”

Jimin hugs as if he is overcome with adoration. Jimin hugs as if he needed the other for his survival. Jimin hugs as if he thanks the universe for the other’s presence. He doesn’t hug often, but when he does, it is spilling over with his honest adoration.

You didn’t expect it right now, but can’t deny that it melts you. He has one arm around your waist strongly and cradles the back of your head with his other hand, while his cheek rests on your shoulder with his face hidden in your neck. You can even see from the reflection in the mirror that he has his eyes closed. He hugs just like him. With his entire heart and soul.

You hug him back with just as much tenderness, rubbing his back slowly. Goosebumps follow your touch. He melts into your embrace.

“What’s that for?” you ask him quietly.

“Haircut.”

You chuckle, “do you like it that much?”

He nods his head and gives you a squeeze.

“Thank you”, he whispers.

You know that he doesn’t only speak of the haircut. That he thanks you for giving him the space and time he needed to realise that the haircut won’t end in pain for him. You smile fondly, squeezing him back.

“Of course. You can always come to me for help.”

“I will.” He holds you so close and breathes your name. Nothing else follows. Just your name. Said with just as much heart and soul as his hug carries.

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hemlockesprings · 13 days ago

Note

do u have any major inspirations stylistically? you always look great at your shows♡

ty ty 🥹♡

honestly I just vibe and see what I want!Like for this one, I wanted to dress like strawberry shortcake and my creative director was like, "Okay!" and made it happen!

I usually will go to anime and Pinterest and stuff! I will say I'm a huge fan of Jun Togawa's fashion sense and I've been lowkey getting into whimsigoth a lot!

But usually, I try to just sus my vibe out!

OOOOOOH I also like when my outfits match my hair! I wanna do a better job of that next time, matching my outfits with my hair AHHHHHHHHHHHHH I'm getting excited just talking about it okiiii byeee

-🔒👗

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misserabella · 1 year ago

Text

rich stress

shane mccutcheon x fem! reader

synoposis; after a contract gone wrong, your wife needs you to feel better.

cw; minors dni!! shane being pissed off, rough sex(?), fingering (r receiving), oral sex (shane receiving), hair pulling, praising, praise kink, hickeys, no use of y/n, scissoring, tit and nipple play, make out sessions, multiple orgasms, implied shower sex…

ugh so imagine just you and shane getting married, and with time, finding your dream house in LA. she had her pockets filled with money, being known as not only the most wanted female stylist, but the own CEO of her brand. now, with millions of salons under her name and stars hitting her up everyday, she couldn’t say no to your puppy eyes when this one ticked all the boxes. anything for her baby.

it had a beautiful front garden yard with fountains and a private yet outdoors pool that had your knees going wild at the thought of the possibility of seeing shane naked on it late at night. swimming. smiling at you in that goddamn way to get you to get out of your clothes and join her too.

it had also an open kitchen and isle, in which you’d spend your sunday nights cooking with shane for your little inside-dates. and the most amazing salon for when you’d invite the others over.

it was so modern yet homey… and private. you liked that. the clear pannels that led to the pool and exterior letting the views of the city light the nights.

shane knew it was a winner when your finally saw the main bedroom. you liked big beds. for obvious reasons. and the bathroom, decorated in marble floors, had this amazing bathroom whirlpool with sights to the skyscrapers. you liked the idea of taking a bath with her after a tiring and stressful long day, and helping her let go of all the stress she underwent once she was completely undressed.

bette obviously bought the two of you lots of art pieces to decorate it with. she had such a beautiful taste. she also bought you some unique pieces of furniture that had you drooling all over yourself since of course shane insisted on screwing them up all by herself. those arms and fingers working so easily yet so hard to make the house you’d bought together your home… anyways, you thanked bette a lot for that.

and when everything was finally accommodated, you knew this was your home.

“you like it baby?” shane had asked, lips on your neck. she was still wearing her suit, ringed hand heavy on your sides.

you sighed against her. “i love it.”

“good to know i make my girl happy.” she’d smiled.

“the happiest.”

today her demeanor was completely changed. alice had called you up to tell you that the contract she so hard had been working on for the last 2 months had gone to waste. and that she was mad. you’d gulped. a shiver running down your spine. you knew what a mad shane meant, and your legs were already quivering.

the entrance door banged closed, and you continued with your work in the kitchen, knowing she’d be quick to find you. in less than thirty seconds, there she was, heavy and tense on the door.

“shane, baby…” you tried but she was shutting you up too quickly. her lips were harsh on yours, and you whined when one of her hands came up your chest to grab at one of your tits.

“don’t wanna talk about it.” she lowly muttered against your lips, and you nodded before surrounding her neck with your arms, kissing her once again. you knew what she needed right now.

she pushed you against the wall, free hand pushing inside your panties, since all you were wearing was one of her shirts and your underwear. she groaned when she noticed how wet you already were. too wet to be exacts.

“you have been thinking about this, huh? what? did alice called you to let you know?” you nodded, whimpering when her fingers met your clit. “of course she did. and you knew what would happen once i’d get home. you knew i was gonna fuck you, don’t you baby?” you moaned, one of her slim large fingers now inside your cunt. you blushed at the squelch of your walls opening for her. she scoffed when you nodded. “words.”

“yeah…”

she pushed another finger inside, and your thighs shook. “i’m so fucking mad.” she groaned. “good thing i have my doll to make me feel better, don’t i?” you whimpered. she sucked on your neck, leaving hickeys while she rocked her body against you with each harsh thrust of her fingers. she pulled from one of your thighs so you’d surround her hips, reaching deeper, hitting your g spot over and over again as she curled her fingers.

your back arched, and you cried out her name. she moaned as well when you pulled from her hair. her own hips thrusting against you. her tongue pushed inside your mouth, teeth clashing and lips bruising.

“i’m cumming…” you moaned, and she grunted, keeping the pace and the harshness, bringing you to your orgasm. your jaw fell slack, and she kissed your cheek and chest, her free hand cupping your tits and teasing your nipples. she didn’t stop fucking you with her fingers until you were squirming due to the overstimulation. you watched as she popped her cum soaked fingers inside her mouth, making you whine at the thought of her own slick coating your tongue. “let me help you…” you pleaded, one of your hands cupping her cunt over her pants. she grunted. “please. use me.”

you begged, and soon enough she was pushing you into your bedroom.

“you know what to do.” you nodded, your tongue dampening your lips as shane got rid of her pants while you kneeled in front of the bed. you stared up at her as she pushed her underwear down her thighs, a patch of black hair decorating her mound. she then proceeded to sat down and spread her legs, giving you a perfect view of her glistening pussy and folds. you bit down on your lip, a soft moan leaving your throat at the sight. your palms met her thighs as you got closer. “come on princess. use that pretty mouth of yours, hm?” you complied, dragging your tongue through her folds to collect her sweet slick, making her grunt as you hummed. “yeah. just like that. atta girl.”

she tasted so good…

her fingers dug into your hair, pushing you flush against her cunt as her head fell back, a groan leaving her lips when you eagerly sucked on her clit. she was so pent up and sensitive due to the stress…

she was leaking, already turned on by having had you cumming on her fingers. and now that you were on your knees for her… there was no sight she adored more.

you were eating her out like a starved woman, pants leaving her lips. “so fucking needy…” “tastes good baby? you like eating my pussy?” you nodded, moaning as your tongue plunged inside her hole. “of course you do. you like being used, don’t you?” you moaned. “come on. fuck me. need you to make me feel better.”

you exchanged your fingers with your tongue, pushing inside and making shane moan. she sounded so fucking sweet when she did, eyebrows knitted together and eyes squinted close as her jaw fell slack.

“shit. just like that.”

you sucked on her clit, kissed her folds, steadily thrusted your fingers to pull out of her more moans and grunts. and when you curled them to hit her g spot, she tugged on your locks, pushing you harder against her. she was close. you knew.

“gonna cum. gonna cum all over that pretty face of yours. fuck. gonna make a mess outta you.” you moaned, moving your fingers faster as she humped your face, thighs clenching and squirming as she gushed all over your mouth with a beautiful pornographic moan. your eyes looked at her the moment she fell apart, wanting to take on the sight through your eyelashes. ‘cause she’s looked so fucking perfect every time she came…

you cleaned her up, tasting and drinking up her juices. your chin and lips shone with it. the hand that stood on your hair fell to your cheek, her thumb tugging on your bottom lip. she looked at you with such lust that made you shiver. “come here.” she said, and you were quick to get on your feet and join her on the bed. you straddled her, and eagerly received her tongue inside your mouth, the mix of the two of you tangible. her hands harshly took your ass, tugging on your soaked panties to pull them off. you two were a mess of hands, getting rid of each others clothes in a frenzy. you looked at her tits, her perfect tits, and couldn’t help but latch onto them as her back hit the duvet. shane groaned, her hands, back on your hips, rocking you back and forth against her. you two looked like two animals in heat. humping each other as drool decorated your chins due to how messy you were being.

“need to fuck you.” you nodded, muttering a ‘please’ as she rolled you over until you were the one pinned against the bed. “so fucking pretty…” she groaned, taking you in. with your flushed cheeks and swollen lips, tits slightly bouncing with your heavy breathing. she positioned the two of you so her cunt would hover over yours. you didn’t have to beg twice, ‘cause she was already thrusting against your wetness, clits bumping against the other and making the two of you moan. you were so worked up. “so wet… all of this for eating my pussy, baby?” you nodded. “so cute.” you let out a scream when she harshly thrusted against you, the sound of your slick filling the bedroom. “such a good girl, letting me use her… look at this pussy, hm? soaked wet just for me. isn’t that right princess?” you nodded, and she clicked her tongue. “words.”

“yes, shane. fuck. just for you.” she moaned. she loved it when you called her name. it sounded so sweet falling from your lips…

your hips unconsciously thrusted against hers. you could already feel your orgasm building up. her hands cupped your tits, stimulating your nipples. your moans became more and more loud. letting her now that you were close.

“come on baby. be a good girl cum for me, i know you want to.” just a little praising and you were falling apart, gushing against her cunt as your back arched. just the sight and a couple more thrusts had her groaning as she felt her release hit her, fucking the two of you through it until the overstimulation became too much. she laid beside you, tucking her face on the crook of your shoulder as she pulled you into her arms and you caressed her hair, your fingers lacing through it. “thank you.” she muttered and you kissed her cheek. “i love you, baby.” she said, softly kissing your swollen lips, her thumb drawing circles on your hip.

“i love you too, shane.” you smiled, and kissed her back. the kiss was sweet and slow yet deep, and when she pulled away she asked:

“shower with me?”

you chuckled at the smirk on her lips.

“let’s go.” and yet. you gave in.

a/n; my first shane fic!! idk if it’ll get reads since it seems like there are not many shane fics on the app but anyways i love her and had to write about her.

hope y’all like it! :))

#shane mccutcheon #shane mccutcheon x reader #shane mccutcheon x fem! reader #shane mccutcheon x you #l word #l word x reader #l word shane #shane l word #shane x reader #shane x you #shane x y/n #l word smut #l word fluff #shane mccutcheon smut #shane mccutcheon fluff

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sierrale8ne · 3 months ago

Text

40 DAYS AND 40 NIGHTS CHAPTER ONE

thought i’d be lying if i said ‘i didn’t want you to myself.’ when you look me in my eyes and, tell me that it’s mine, i…

pairing wnba!paige bueckers x singer!oc

warnings maraye’s b*****end

May 2025 — New York City, New York

“5 minutes, Carter! You’re on in 10!” I hear my manager, Kaylee, speak from behind me. She didn’t even look up from her phone.

I’m seated backstage at The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon getting ready to go out on stage for my segment of the show. My ready room is packed. Heavy makeup cases and hair products sit on the vanity and nearby tables. My hair and makeup and stylist people moving in and out of the room to get me picture perfect.

“I’ll see you when you get off. Good luck out there, beautiful.”

“Thank you.” I respond, feeling a soft pair of lips press against my cheek.

It’s my— I don’t even know what to call him— boyfriend, Julian. We’d been going out for a bit , no longer than around three months, but nothing had been made officially-official yet. His full head of curly brown hair tickles my eyebrow when he kisses me, bringing a flush to my already pinked cheeks. He walks out of the ready room, I assume to his seat out in the audience alongside my sister Casandra.

My hand goes up to my cheek, up against where his lips left a sloppy mark against my makeup. My makeup artist, Tyler, swats my hand away before I can smudge what he just spent two hours working on.

“He’s gonna ask you about him.” Kaylee’s voice cuts through the air.

“What?”

“Jimmy. He’s gonna ask you about Julian. Not directly, of course, but he’ll ask if you have a muse and blah blah blah.” Her work phone slips into the back pocket of her wind leg jeans. The click of the black heels on her feet grow louder as she approaches me. “Don’t answer, say you get inspired by a ton of things but not anyone in particular.”

My face twists up. “Why should I do that?”

Kaylee sighs. We’ve talked about this a multitude of times, and I can tell it irritates her more and more each time I pry. My career is based on sharing my most vulnerable and intimate moments with people all over the world. I didn’t mind sharing if someone had influenced my music or not.

“It keeps the interview focused on you and how amazing you’ve been so far this year. If you do that, it’s gonna be about your relationship. You don’t want that, I promise you.” Kaylee explains.

I nod understandably, but my mind thinks to the future conversation Julian and I are most likely going to have about me not claiming him publicly. A conversation we’ve had too many times for my liking, for only being a few months in.

Oh, and unofficial might I add.

The creak of the heavy white door opening pulls us out of our conversation. There’s a man in a white Polo and black slacks with a headset on. “Call time. Let’s get you out there, Maraye.” He speaks.

I nod, standing up from my seat. I quickly brush a hand over my hair, making sure that any flyaways from my jet black side part unit stay down where they should be.

“Go get ‘em, Carter.” Kaylee encourages, rubbing my back softly and smiling her soft comforting smile.

—

“Fresh off of her first studio album release, please give a warm welcome to our next guest, Maraye!”

The start of The Roots introduction music is my cue to walk out, and I do. The Amina Muaddi heels on my feet moving across the black stage. My dress is a nice maroon color, a sleeveless u-neck top that fits my body like a glove.

I smile out to the live audience, waving my hand before taking a set on the blue-gray couch. The applause dies down and Jimmy looks over at me, the cover of my latest album, ‘f*** daisies' is propped up between his hands on the wood table.

“Thank you so much for having me!” I greet, crossing one of my legs over the other.

“No, thank you, for coming out! I wanna jump right into this,” he speaks. The camera pans to the album cover. “Because this album has taken the internet by storm in the last month that it’s been out.”

“Yeah. It’s been very surreal. I’ve had EP’s that have done great, but all the love on this album has been incredible.”

The audience breaks out into more cheers and applause and I feel my heart nearly triple in size.

To say my life had taken a complete 180° turn in the last five months would be an understatement. From spending last fall on tour with Kehlani, to getting my communications degree from the University of Southern California, and now the release of my album. I was truly blessed and grateful.

“What’s so impressive about all of this is that you’re only 22 years old, and you have three songs off this project that have spots on the billboard top 15.” Jimmy praises. “Out of those three—f*** daisies, SOS (Sex on Sight), and Unpredictable with your good friend Destin Conrad— which one would you say was your favorite to make?”

I take a deep breath, my eyebrows furrow with a look of thoughtfulness which makes the audience laugh.

“Probably SOS. To have Usher featured on that song was a once-in-a-lifetime experience. And I’m from Atlanta, so having an ATL legend on my first project was huge.” I answer.

“Did you, y'know, learn anything from him for future music?”

“The way he works with layering his vocals was unbelievable. I think that’s why SOS is one of my favorite works, the harmonies on that song are unreal and I give all credit to him.”

“Would you say that this song had a muse? I work for the people, so I have to ask.” Jimmy teases, and I force a smile. I could just hear Kaylee’s voice in the back of my head screaming I told you so.

I shift in my seat. My eyes bounced from him, to the man I had coined my boyfriend sitting in the audience. “I use a ton of experiences for inspiration in my music. Things that have happened to me but also to those around me.” I start.

From the corner of my eye I see Julian, the red button up that covers his shoulders and his gold cross chain keeps him in my view perfectly. He moves in his seat and I just know he’s uncomfortable, or angered, or something else that I can’t really bring myself to care about with all these cameras pointing at me right now.

“So I wouldn’t say it came from anyone in particular. I probably just had a little too much wine that night.” I joke, keeping the atmosphere lively and energetic.

Jimmy laughs and The Roots play some sort of jingle in the background, both of which make me release a breath I didn't know I had been holding.

“Well we all can’t wait for more music from you Maraye. Everyone stay tuned, Maraye will be giving us a special performance of SOS when we come back from the break!”

—

May 2025 — Los Angeles, California

It’s later at night, 9pm when I finally take a seat on my living room couch. The recently rented apartment smelled like vanilla thanks to the candle Rickea decided to light while I was grabbing the pizza.

Why my teammate decided to surprise visit me when I could be resting for our season opener tomorrow night was beyond me. I thought it must be a little rookie hazing, messing me up for the first game, but I wouldn’t tell them that.

Cameron was here too, a massage gun up near her still recovering knee.

I scrolled mindlessly on my phone, listening partially to what Rickea was telling me about tomorrow’s plans. Some sitcom played on the tv, or a talk show. Again, I wasn’t very sure.

“Hey, I’m talking to you!” Rickea yelled. She dropped down on the couch, nudging me enough to drop my phone from my grasp. “Your first pro game is tomorrow! Can you act excited?”

“I am excited!” I shot back, playfully pushing her back off of me. “You’re just yelling in my ear right now, ‘Kea.”

“Ugh they grow up so fast.” Cameron speaks up. She wipes her eyes from fake unshed tears. I roll my eyes at them both. These cannot be my teammates.

“I’m older than you?”

“And yet, you’re a rookie and I’m not. Matter of fact, come massage my knee for me, rook.”

I reach for the pillow closest to my right and throw it at her before she can even blink. Which she retaliates for by tossing one back at me.

“Okay enough! God, you guys are children.” Rickea interjects. Her hand reaches for the TV remote. “Tryna watch my friend on TV and y’all wanna act like fools.”

“Do it at your place then! The fuck?”

Rickea pushes me towards the other end of the couch, and I huff and flop against it. Cam begins to laugh. I reach over for another pillow but she stops, raising her arms in defense.

The volume on the screen in front of me increases, but this time I play attention. Jimmy Fallon is on, and his introduction of whoever is the guest tonight cuts through the air. After a few seconds of silence that’s when I see it.

Suddenly I’ve never found a late night talk show so interesting.

“That’s yo’ friend?” I ask Rickea. And she squeals, like a schoolgirl, ignoring my question. “‘Kea?”

“Yeah, ‘Raye! Doesn’t she look so pretty?” She asks no one in particular. But I still find myself slyly nodding.

I listen intently to her voice, and how she sings the very sensual song beautifully. She was harmonizing with her background vocalists in a way that made my jaw drop. And suddenly, I’m pissed at myself for not only not having this song in my library, but also for knowing whose voice is mesmerizing me right now.

And even more than that, she’s stunning.

The lighting of the stage she sings on gives an illusion like she’s glowing. Or maybe she actually is. My eyes physically cannot leave the screen. She is in a maroon dress and just when I think I can’t be anymore enamored with the sight, the camera pans out to her entire body.

I didn't even realize that her performance was over until a commercial cuts on.

“Ain’t she just incredible.” Rickea cheeses at her friend like a proud mother.

Cam agrees with her. “She’s running my playlist right now.”

“Paige?”

“Huh?”

“I said she’s good right? You like R&B, you should hop on the Maraye train.” Rickea teases and I think that she didn’t pick up on my obvious drooling for the last five minutes. “I promise not all her songs are freaky.”

I clear my throat, nodding at her.

“No, yeah, she’s,” suddenly any possible descriptors that I could use at the moment are stuck in the back of my throat.

“She’s incredible.”

#sierrale8ne #kalena’s works ୧ ‧₊˚ 🍵 ⋅#paige bueckers #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x oc #uconn wbb #la sparks #lesbian #my fic #40 days and 40 nights

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enha-roza · 3 months ago

Text

YOUR WAIST

Heeseung x 8thmember!oc

synopsis : All the times Heeseung was obsessed with Roza's waist.

wc : 1k

Heeseung loves Roza’s waist. Even staff know how touchy Heeseung can get, often telling him not to be too touchy on camera to avoid rumors. This showed when during a live he started getting clingy. All 9 members were sitting on live together after one of their concerts talking to fans. Heeseung and Roza sitting on a one seater together.

As Jay and Sunghoon were making cringy jokes, fans noticed that Heeseung's arm was wrapped around Roza, especially her waist. And as she leaned forward, Jake noticed Heeseung holding her waist under her shirt. “What are you doing?”. Heeseung looked at Jake confused. “What?”. “Yah, you got your hand under her shirt!”. Heeseung, flustered, started to defend himself. “It's not like that. I didn't even realize!”. Jake laughed as the other members asked what happened.

“What happened?”. “Heeseung had his hand under Roza’s shirt” Jake wiggled his eyebrows at Heeseung as he spoke. “Yeah, what were you doing?” Roza jokingly questioned. “I- were squished in this seat… it just happened” He said as everyone laughed at him. “Sure… or you just like me?” Roza making eye contact. “Yeah, I do like you,” He said, feeling more confident. Roza got shy and turned away. “Yah, you can't flirt then get shy when i do it back!”. “It's because she doesn't want you!” Sunghoon giggled as Roza high fived him. “Don't team up on me!”. “Okay sorry… I don't mind you holding my waist�� Roza said as Heeseung smirked. “Good because I wasn't planning on letting go…”. Comments going crazy at their interactions.

When they got back to their hotel room, Heeseung had a shower. When he came out, he noticed Roza was halfway through changing. “Oh sorry…” Roza with her shirt off her head turned around and saw Heeseung. “Whoops, I thought you were gonna be longer”. “No it’s okay, i don't mind the view” his eyes drifting down to her waist. “Your waist is so pretty…”. “You think?” she said getting her sleeping top on. “You like it so much you can't close your mouth?” Heeseung, now aware of himself, closed his mouth. Stepping closer he put his hands on Roza’s waist. “Just so perfect… fits perfectly in my hands” He smirked before walking to his bed. Roza feels butterflies in her stomach at his words, feeling the line between being members and more blurring.

During a fitting for their bite me comeback, the members were trying on outfits and making sure they fit properly. Roza was trying on her outfit “Maybe we can bring the waist in more?” the stylist said as she pinched the waist in the back of Roza’s dress. “Yeah, I think that will look better,” Roza said, agreeing with her. The stylist pinned the back of her dress and went to grab some chalk. Feeling eyes on her, Roza looked in the mirror, meeting Heeseung's eyes.

“What?”. “Nothing just looking at you… you look pretty”. “Thanks Oppa” she said, cheeks blushed as she looked away. “Feeling shy?”. “No…”. “really? You look pretty cute when you're shy” He smiled. The stylist came back and marked where she was going to take the dress in. “okay i think that's all”. “Okay thank you” Roza said before going to change out of the dress.

While she was zipping up her jacket, there was a knock on the door. “Come in!”. Heeseung came in before closing the door. “Are you done?”. “Yeah”. “Okay…”. The silence took over before Heeseung moved. He took Roza’s zip and slowly pulled it down. “What are you doing?”. “Just wanna look at your pretty self” he whispered as his hands slid around Roza’s waist, then pulling her into a hug. “You're so pretty… you make me crazy”. “I do?”. She said looking up at him. “Don't look at me like that… I'll do something I'll regret” He smirked, eyes falling to her lips. “sorry…” . “there's nothing to be sorry about… you just make me crazy”.

“We got to go- oh, was I interrupting something?” Jungwon said after walking in to collect the other members. “No, we're ready”. Heeseung said as he zipped up her jacket, hand slipping into hers pulling her along with him. “Let's go!”.

After Roza started dating the Hyung line, it became more obvious how touchy they were. Heeseung didn't hide his favoritism for Roza’s waist, his hands almost exclusively were always on her waist. Heeseung was currently gaming with Roza on his lap. “Where are you going?” Heeseung said as Roza tried getting up, his hand pulling her back down. “I'm hungry… gonna get some food”. His hands held her waist as he spoke. “Okay but come straight back, don't need you wandering off into another member's room”. “I promise i won’t” She kissed his cheek hoping up.

After getting a snack, she was making her way back to Heeseung’s room. “What are you doing?” she looked back and Sunghoon had poked his head out of his room. “Getting a snack”. “Are you still hungry, can I make some ramen?”. “That would be nice, but Heeseung would be jealous… you know how he gets”. “I don't care, you deserve some food princess”. Sunghoon grabbed her hands, pulling her back into the kitchen. After finishing another round of his game Heeseung noticed Roza still wasn’t back and getting curious he went to find her.

“It's almost done, hopefully Heeseung doesn't notice you're gone”. “Well I have…”. Roza and Sunghoon turn around to see Heeseung standing in the doorway. “Oh hey…”. “I told you not to wander off”. “I know but Sunghoon said he's gonna make ramen, I can't deny ramen”. “Okay…” He said, wrapping his arms around her waist. “But I need you back as soon as possible, I can't play without you on my lap. Helps me focus”. “Really, how?”. “I don't know, it just does…”.

The three members sat down and scoffed down their ramen before going back to their rooms. “Come on” Heeseung dragged Roza along back to his room. Sitting down in his chair he pulled her down into his lap. “Ahhh, this is perfect” he laughed as the game loaded up, hands back at Roza’s waist. “You know I love your waist right?”. “Really I never noticed?” She joked as Heeseung began to play once more.

a/n : Heeseung loves a good waist!!

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