#all in one vogue photo shoot like!!

[raplinesmoon]

convinced Namjoon has to be lurking around here somewhere (😱) because

exhibit a) doom boy Namjoon

exhibit b) the house the sea built Namjoon

[just-rogi]

Jenna Coleman seems like the kinda girl who would laugh at you if you said you like doctor who. I mean that as a compliment I think hot mean women are the backbone of society

[mechazushi]

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

ITS HERE!!!!!!!! F*CK YEEEESSSSSS!!!!!! YOU DID AMAZING!!!!!

I'm glad you had fun with this! I honestly didn't think anyone would actually take me seriously and draw all of this out, and it looks better than what I had in mind!

(Everything below this point is stuff I was going to put into tags, but I'm just going to have them out and proud here)

Mina; stylin' as ever. Don't know why she ever had to be nervous

Kafka; excuse my lack of decency, but I physically can not stop myself from looking at his hips. Seeing the thick lines peaking out of the dress holes I.... 😳 brain gone? Only hips. *Drooling*

And then I get sideswiped by Hoshina, which by the way, BAHHHAHAAAHHAH!!!!!! THE F*CKIN" FERAL *SS LOOKING POSE! (Thank you for including the spartan eyes btw) I was picturing him looking elegant or something as he came down on him, but this is better! All he heard was " big guy in sexy lingerie" and the monkey brain took over. (Ayo, why the grippers out? Ah, who am I kidding. It adds to the unhinged)

The next four people look incredible! I know you were probably blowing a gasket over how to draw guys in a dress clearly designed for curvy women, but they all came out spectacularly! ✨💞✨

Minase and Kikoru look EXACTLY like how I thought they would look It's almost scary. (I'd say stay out of my head, but then we wouldn't have this)

DAMN! Hakua at it with the Tig Bitties, respect 👍

Nothing was going to prepare me for Gen. He actually does outdo Mina in the dress, I sincerely didn't think it was possible.

All in all, I thank you again! Seeing this totally made my entire year. I don't think there's going to be anything else that could top having inspired someone to illustrate a masterpiece with something I threw together as a joke. Seriously, I sound like a broken record but this is genuinely amazing!

I'm cracking up so much right now like....I really did it, wtf XD

First I wanted to go like "this is not my fault, this is @mechazushi's idea", but to be honest.. I had so much fcking fun with this.. ( ‾́ ◡ ‾́ )

The idea is just *glorious* and so fcking stupid, it's perfect again.. https://www.tumblr.com/mechazushi/754110618707066880/so-this-isnt-so-much-an-incorrect-quotes

So this was her original post, the idea sprouting, so to say :D

Credit on your brain rot, it's hilarious @mechazushi :D

The less I get done in RL - the more creative I get, it's such a horrible curse..

Should I do a split up version of this as well, I wonder..? Like..all of them in seperate pics? (¯―¯ ٥)

[hamilando]

ੈ✩ hereby announcing (smau) ੈ✩

pairing : f1 grid x fem reader ; lewis hamilton x fem reader

summary : you can take the girl out of the sport, but not the sport out of the girl

tw : emotional, fluff

a/n : thank you so much to @amberjazmyn for suggesting this ! lysm 🫶🏻 this ends on a cliff hanger ! and the time span is during the 2020- 2021 grid 🫶🏻 I was literally listening to judas by lady gaga while writing this 💀

·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ

liked by charlesleclerc, lewishamilton and 1,839,378 others

ynshayk a last photo shoot with @ Ferrari and @ charlesleclerc before the season ends ! Thank you @ vogue for having us 🤩❤️

view comments

user1 Y/N X CHARLES, THE LOOKS !?

user2 thank god she did not choose modelling

user3 WE DONT NEED THIS, WE NEED YOUR CONTRACT

user4 when are you signing the next wdc ?

user5 stop torturing us and GIVE US THE DEETS

user6 I hate that because of covid we can't even see her 😭

user7 I swear to god, this lady is a damn sadist

user8 MA’AM, YOUR NEXT YEAR CAR !?

user9 don’t tell me Ferrari Kip’s kicking her out

user10 ha, no-

user11 they love her

user12 I mean she does not have many wins -

user13 SHE HAS WAY MORE THEN CHARLES !?

user14 she got the seat after sebastian vettel, she deserved it

user15 2021 is Y/N’s year

liked by lewishamilton, scuderiaferrari and 3,479,489 others

ynshayk with the speculations going around with my contract, I hereby announce my retirement from Formula 1 at the end of this 2020 season. It’s been a journey I wouldn’t forget, and with a very heavy heart and neck, I say goodbye to the tifosi family and sport 🏎️❤️🏎️ a very big thank you to @ charlesleclerc for supporting me when I felt it was not worth it, I couldn’t have reached this far without you 💪🏻

view comments

user1 wha-

user2 WHAT !?

user3 DENIAL NO WAY

user4 don't do this to me at 3:57 am

user5 THIS MUST BE A JOKE

user6 IS IT APRIL 1?

user7 it's literally December

user8 crying a nile river here

user9 why did we not expect it

user10 we wanted a wdc 😭😭

user11 we support you whatever you do !!

scuderiaferrari please pass the tissues

user12 here admin 🤧

landonorris can’t believe you leaving me all alone 😔

liked by ynshayk

user13 next season, no chary/n?

charlesleclerc I will miss you too, shaky ❤️

liked by ynshayk

user14 we all know Charles cried while typing that

user15 shaky ? 💀

user16 it's a thing between them, Charles calls her shaky because after every win of hers, she always managed to fall down while getting if the car

lewishmailton congratulations on ending an excellent career 💪🏻🍾👏

liked by ynshayk

user17 the grid saying goodbye to her 😭😭😭😭

maxverstappen1 will miss you hijacking red bull headquarters

liked by ynshayk

user18 not max exposing her -

liked by ynshayk, carlossainz and 789,379 others

scuderiaferrari 3 years, 14 wins, 27 podiums, runner up world champion, rookie of the year, and a career which defied sayings. Y/N Shayk had an eventful career and we are glad that she was, she is and she always will be part of the tifosi family! Wishing her all the very best for her future !

view comments

user1 admin I need tissues

user2 NOT THE OFFICIAL POST 😭😭

user3 I still can’t process it 😭

user4 I really wish this all turns out to be a bad dream

user5 the sebastian vettel horror

user6 ferrari lost seb and y/n

user7 who is the driver joining though ?

user8 I think they will announce near the new year

user9 ITS CARLOS

user10 WHAT

user11 check y/n's new post

user12 Carlos is replacing her

user13 MY CARLANDO !?

user14 carlos to Ferrari is deadly 💀

user15 and here I thought formula 1 was calm

user16 she came, she won and retired

user17 Rosberg inspiration 💪🏻

user18 SHE CAME, SHE SAW, SHE CAME, SHE SAW

liked by charleclerc, lewishamilton, carlossaimz and 2,589,378 others

ynshayk handing over my seat to one of the most talented person out there @ carlossainz, take care of @ chareslelcerc for me and try not to miss me too much 😙💪🏻😌 so excited for the 2021 grid 🤩

view comments

user1 NOT MY CARLANDO BREAKING TOO !?

user2 WHAT IS THIS 2021!?

user3 FIRST CHARY/N AND NOW CARLANDO!?

user4 I am excited for the C square era

user5 LESSGOOO 💪🏻

user6 I love how y/n is laughing after giving up on ferrari strategies

user7 middle pic be her laughing after escaping the ferrari attic

user8 I am glad everyone is getting their happy ending

user9 the fans are not 😭😭

user10 what will y/n do now ?

user11 probably spend her millions

user12 she is rich ?

user13 HAHAH- it's an understatement

charesleclerc I swear I am not crying, something got in my eyes

liked by ynshayk

user14 CHARLES 😭😭

user15 of course it will be emotional, they literally grew up together 😭

user16 can't believe the shaky and charles era is over

carlossainz will do ❤️

liked by ynshayk

liked by user1, user2, user3 and 278,367 others

f1wags 7 time world champion, Lewis Hamilton was seen in Paris with ex- Formula 1 driver, Y/N Shayk. A normal outing or love in the city of love ?

view comments

user1 that's it, I am going to the Himalayas

user2 I am coming too

user3 CANT WE GET ONE DAY WITHOUT DRAMA !?

user4 LIKE CHILL BRO LET US CHILL

user5 she literally said can't win one, but surely can fuck one -

user6 mate 💀

user7 LEWIS AND Y/N !?

user8 WHAT IS THEIR AGE GAP !?

user9 SHE IS BORN IN 1998

user10 13 years 💀

user11 they both are adults, can y'all calm down ?

user12 I am still not used to the ex formula driver 😭😭

[ghostfacd]

I’D BE THE MAN. | TOM BLYTH

pairing. tom blyth x fem!actress!reader

summary. in which yn receives an unbelievable amount of hate, but she knows that if it were the other way around and she was a guy, they would praise her for being “the man”

installment of this au | read it for context!

ynuser tsitp behind the scenes!! 💌 sean and chris thought it was soooo funny to carry me at random times (thanks guys! very steven and conrad of you) 🤨🤨

tagged @/sean.kauf, @/chrisbriney_, @/thesummeriturnedpretty

view all comments

user1 anyone lwk think she’s a slut lol

➥ user2 no bae you’re so right cus why is she letting 2 different guys carry her when she’s literally dating tom

➥ user1 LMAOO real shes so ungrateful, if tom was my bf, i wouldn’t be around other guys

➥ user3 it’s literally?? for?? her?? work?? are you guys deluded, hating on successful women is crazy

➥ user 4 last time I checked, working does not = to whoring yourself with other guys

sean.kauf not our fault you’re easy to carry miss ella fisher

chrisbriney_ fave part of working on set is carrying u and hearing u scream

➥ user5 EVILLL

user6 the way she isn’t even replying to her cast mates are crazy, wake up! you’re not that famous

➥ user7 tbosas being #1 for movies says otherwise but ok!

tomblyth YN!!! My sweet, funny, and incredibly talented girl, congratulations for all you have accomplished. It’s been so much fun with you on the set of TBOSAS, and it’s been absolutely even more endearing to sit behind the scenes and watch you act for TSITP!! Ella Fisher is my favorite Fisher anyways :’)

tagged @/ynuser

view all comments

ynuser TOM!! I love you.

➥ user8 only 4 words? oh she hates him 😭

➥ user9 when you would die for tom blyth to post you but y/n avocot doesn’t gaf when he posts her

➥ user10 literally not true? i’m sure she just doesn’t wanna put everything online, we can all tell that she loves him

rachelzegler you guys are the cutest!

➥ user11 is yn holding you hostage??

sean.kauf always love having you on set man

➥ user12 yn’s bf vs yn’s side guy LOL

➥ user13 knock it off, i bet tom wouldn’t like his “fans” disrespecting his gf and her cast members

user14 she never posts him istg this is so one sided

user15 she’s lucky she’s pretty cause she can’t act or sing for the life of her

➥ user16 not even pretty LOLLL

ynuser since everyone thinks i’m so ungrateful, TOM!!! Thank you for always being there for me and comforting me when i’m sad. You’re my best friend and the best boyfriend I could ask for. I love you my love.

view all comments

user17 LMAOO yn called y’all out!

tomblyth i love you in every universe, the haters are LAMEEE!!

➥ user18 YOU TELL THEM TOM

VOGUE New Interview And Photo Shoot With New Star Y/N Avocot OUT NOW! The New Actress And Rising Music Star Shares Her Recent Favorite Song — “The Man” By Taylor Swift!

view all comments

user19 the man by taylor oml she’s going through it

user20 idk how anyone could hate her, she’s so sweet and gorgeous

user21 miserable ppl on the internet after hating on a girl for no reason other than that she’s close to her cast members

ynuser thank you for having me Vogue!

ynuser if i was a man, then’d i’d be the man!

view all comments

iloveyn PURRR YN I LOVE UUUU

tomblyth hell ya u would

sean.kauf queen i miss u, come back to film szn 2

➥ bellyconklinsgf WAIT SZN 2???

➥ sean.kauf oh shit..

➥ ynuser HAHA SEAN THE DIRECTOR AND JENNY HAN ARE GONBA KILL U

user22 so she replies to sean but not tom?? 🤡

➥ user23 LET IT GOOOOOO

user24 i love to see successful women not letting haters tear them down

user25 we love you yn!!!

rachelzegler ID BE THE MAAAAANNNN

[leclerckiss]

vogue (part 2).

notes: charles lecler x model!reader, smau, a few swear words.

a/n: here is part two! honestly i wasn’t really sure how to continue the ‘story’ but thank you @sid-is-gr8 & the rest of you for giving me some ideas. i hope this does part 1 justice.

౨ৎ

liked by franciscagomes, lilamoss and 399,135 others

yourusername: hello, london.

view all comments.

lilamoss: please let me borrow from your wardrobe more often

⤷ yourusername: always.

franciscagomes: love, love, love

liked by yourusername

user: y’all hear me out – she’s in london and it’s the british grand prix this weekend.

⤷ user: wait…

⤷ user: more y/n x f1?

⤷ user: more like y/n x charles leclerc

user: omg you’re telling me y/n herself is in my area?

miumiu: 🤎

౨ৎ

3,156 likes

y/n.updates: recent photos from y/n’s friend’s story…

view all comments.

user: we’re getting more y/n photoshoots yesss

user: the picture on the last one omg

user: is that ferraristyle?

౨ৎ

⤷ user: is this real?

⤷ user: y/n started following the ferraristyle ig recently i think

౨ৎ

liked by charlesleclerc, lilamoss and 511,399 others

yourusername: incoming.

view all comments.

user: forza ferrariiii

user: this is definitely y/n confirming her shoot with ferraristyle

⤷ user: literally can’t wait

ferraristyle: 🖤

⤷ user: omg omg

౨ৎ

liked by yourusername and 398,555 others

ferraristyle: genuine elegance. y/n & charles leclerc demonstrate the sophistication in the heart of ferrari in a mew collaboration, see behind the scenes… [more]

view all comments.

user: holy shit

user: ferraristyle is a dating program now or what? tf

⤷ user: calm down, it’s just a collab. modelling together doesn’t mean there’s something going on

⤷ user: girl, everyone knows there’s something happening between them two

friendusername: icons

yourusername: 🖤

౨ৎ

yourusername shared on stories:

story liked by charlesleclerc

⤷ user: omg

⤷ user: shut up charles was wearing that today

⤷ user: stop messing with us y/nnn

౨ৎ

liked by charlesleclerc, lilamoss and 659,111 others

yourusername: cherry red kitten heels like his ferrari.

view all comments.

user: OH MY GOD

user: i’m in shock.

⤷ user: and yet we all expected it.

user: y/n really said hard launch

charlesleclerc: 🖤

liked by yourusername

franciscagomes: finally

⤷ user: girly knew all along

a/n: hope you all loved my really rushed but dramatic ending xoxo

[world0fmadness]

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ✩ ˚ HEAVENLY ANGEL

toto wolff x vintage fashion! wife! reader x ( platonic! ) oc daughter

featuring: toto being the best husband and reader being hot because you are

faceclaim: assorted but mainly dita von teese

୨୧ sorry i haven’t been making smau’s lately! british summer has been kicking my ass, i’m getting stuff prepared for my birthday and i think i kind of burned myself out by making so many smau’s in so little time lol… have this for now

reading music recommendations: heavenly angel by patience and prudence - you’re the cream to my coffee by annette hanshaw - it’s a lovely day today by jo stafford

loveuyn: yn wolff ln’s new photoshoot featuring pictures of her with vintage mercedes cars!

totoyn: the way my jaw just dropped…

> ynsteponme: literally, i’m so down bad for her

> totoyn: it’s so embarrassing how much i want her 😭

ynscurlers: toto wolff can you fight?

> totoyn: i hope he can’t, i want both of them

ynwolffln ✔️: ah! i adore the vintage car pictures so much, now one of my favourite photoshoots ever 💝

> loveuyn: yn wolff ln, never stop responding to fan accounts please 🥹

❤️ liked by ynwolffln

iluvf1: just saw toto’s eyes turn into hearts like a cartoon character

> totontop: lmao 😭 oh yeah he probably LOVES these car pictures in particular

> ynwolffln ✔️: you’re correct! he’s a big fan of the vintage mercedes shots in particular 😉

ynsteponme: still can’t get over the fact that this woman has a child… AND WITH SOME F1 MANAGER GUY 💔 kidding, her and toto are cute… i guess

> totontop: “ some f1 manager guy ” i can’t 😭

totoyn: throwback to this yn wolff ln photo shoot

loveuyn: this photoshoot changed lives you guys…

ynsteponme: yn wolff ln run me over, beat me with a bat, set me on fire, please just do anything to me i really don’t care

> iluvf1: you guys RELAX she’s someone’s mother 😭

> ynsteponme: she’s someone’s MILF

ynwolffln ✔️: oh i love these pictures! it’s been a while since i’ve seen these

ynscurlers: TOTO WOLFF CAN YOU FIGHT?

oldf1lvr: okay yes this photoshoot is super overly hot but i’m more impressed by her hair 😭 it’s always so damn perfect!

❤️ liked by ynwolffln

> ynscurlers: watch yn’s vogue video! she shows off how she gets her hair like that all the time

> totoyn: not to mention the toto cameo is ADORABLE 💔

> totontop: him gently helping her take her curlers out at the back… there’s so many cute toto moments in that video 🥹

ynscurlers: never beating the hottest wag allegations… toto wolff watch your back fr…

totontop: thinking about the time toto posted this picture of yn to the official mercedes account and it was just a post of him fawning over his wife with “ - toto ” at the end

loveuyn: like yes toto, we knew it was you 😭

> iluvf1: he’s so obsessed with her i love it 🥹

ynsteponme: i absolutely love how yn goes from the really hot milf to someone that looks like they give amazing hugs and just wants to smother their husband and child with love

iluvf1: lewis commenting “ who is this beautiful woman? ” and toto commenting back “ that’s my wife, lewis… ” 😭 like lewis didn’t know lmao

> oldf1lvr: and george’s “ mate… please make your own account, can’t stand this lovely dovey stuff ( joking, of course, don’t fire me ) ” comment

ynwolffln: happy anniversary to my beloved husband 💞 the best husband i could ever ask for and the most wonderful father! you’re my necessity, i’d be lost without you 💕

georgerussell ✔️: happy anniversary yn and toto! i still remember the taste of that cake… so good

❤️ liked by ynwolffln

> ynwolffln ✔️: i’m glad you liked the cake so much george, i’ll have to bake you some for yourself one day

❤️ liked by georgerussell and lewishamilton

> georgerussell ✔️: please do… no bakery comes close to you mrs wolff!

❤️ liked by ynwolffln and lewishamilton

> lewishamilton ✔️: me as well please yn!

❤️ liked by ynwolffln

> ynwolffln ✔️: sounds like me and little miss marilyn have a lot of baking to do 🥰

❤️ liked by mercedes, georgerussell and lewishamilton

lewishamilton ✔️: happy anniversary you two! beautiful wedding and a beautiful bride

> iluvf1: lewis still playing into the beautiful woman joke after all this time 😭

> oldf1lvr: i love him

> ynwolffln ✔️: thank you very much lewis! marilyn sends kisses to her favourite uncle 💓

❤️ liked by ynwolffln

> georgerussell ✔️: hold on a minute… favourite uncle? lewis? get a grip!

❤️ ynwolffln

> lewishamilton ✔️: sorry mate! but it is i who has the cute dog

loveuyn: omg… marilyn’s little bow 🥹

> ynsteponme: so so so cute 💔

mercedes ✔️: my beautiful wife and the best mother to our gorgeous little girl ❤️ happy anniversary honey - toto

❤️ liked by ynwolffln

> ynwolffln ✔️: we really need to get you your own account love 💖

> totontop: lmao even yn is trying to get him to make an account 😭

ynsteponme: she really had the dream wedding for us vintage girlies 🥹

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ୨୧ ˚ NEW ADDED BONUS ˚ ୨୧ ⋆｡˚ ⋆

toto loves his honey and little miss marilyn

[tnigirl]

“𝐖𝐇𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅*𝐂𝐊 𝐂𝐀𝐍’𝐓 𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐅𝐔𝐍 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄?” - KATE MOSS

p. bueckers x slavic doll!reader

warnings: i’m not idealizing any eating problems, drugs, or any of those things that models used to do. be healthy !!

✧₊⁺. girl was MESMERIZED when you walked in front of her

✧₊⁺. you actually meet in uconn because you decided to study there

✧₊⁺. she grow fame in college basketball, you were in many vogue covers

✧₊⁺. watched all your runways and photo shoots

✧₊⁺. she lovessss to show you off

✧₊⁺. usually models are 5’8 or higher

✧₊⁺. soooo i think you are still a little bit smaller than her

✧₊⁺. but if you use heels, like high ones

✧₊⁺. you can actually reach her

designer’s usually put you on heels that are almost impossible to walk in

that’s why your feet hurt maybe because they’re too tight or too tall

but she will massage your feet after a long day

has a hard time getting you now clothes because it’s so difficult to find your exact size

lovessssss your walk!

it’s somehow aggressive but fancy

tries to mock your walk and face

obviously fails

goes to any fashion week you go

also buys the vogue’s magazine you appear in

also loves the outfits you use

“oh my god!” paige suddenly let out a high scream grabbing quickly a vogue magazine, you in the cover of it “girl boo, what’s all the commotion about?” kk appeared out from a cover. they were in Walmart, restocking the things that they were low in.

kk approached the blue eye girl, both hands occupied with bags full of tru fru looking down on what paige had in her hands.

“i’m going to buy it”

“you are already have thousands of them!”

her fans LOVEEEE YOUUUU

like, they love your relationship sooo much

the edits!?!?!?!?!??

they go crazyyyyyyy

have you seen that trend with the brooklyn baby song from lana del rey??

“well my girlfriend’s in a band, she plays basketball” *inserts a photo of paige* “while i walk in a runway” *inserts photo of you walking down the runway*

i’m going crazy

written by andrea, byeeeee

[the-californicationist]

The Fox & the Hound (Ch. 01)

Inspired by a tag on @ceilidho's tumblr post reblogged by @garbagecompactor3263827 where Johnny wants to sink his teeth into a newbie porn star.

MDNI/18+ NO EXCEPTIONS

AO3 Link - Comments/Reblogs very appreciated

You watched him prep in the shared bathroom. People were bustling in and out, and a lighting manager was handing him a fresh razor, reaching over him for her films. He trimmed around his fat, flaccid cock with a practiced hand, getting the hairs just right. Part of you wished it was still the 80s when bush was en vogue . The rest of him remained furry, thankfully, and just as you were about to tend to your own garden, he caught you looking. That same glint in his eyes sparkled, like a hound that had spotted the writhing tail of its fox, ready to crack its bones in his huge maw. He’d been looking at you like that all day. He laughed, but he didn’t ride you for gawking. If anything, he looked a little relieved. What had you gotten yourself into?

Nothing had gone according to plan. This was your first real shoot, and the original actor who had set you up with this production company wasn’t even in the film. Film , your internal monologue chided you, it’s a porno, you filthy slut . Okay, a porn film. You’d sent nude photos here and there, and you’d even landed in Playboy as a back-page lube advert girl. It was a start. But, now, here you were about to shoot your first porno , and the only thing you knew about this guy was that he had fought for this part. 

He was beyond famous. You’d heard that Johnny Dangerous was the man of the hour, and that most of the girls who needed to boost their bankrolls called him up to ask him to co-star. You’d never even heard of him until today, and after hanging around the catering cart, you learned that he was the one who had paid actual money to star with you. 

It was probably some power play. Maybe it was your novelty. Banging the brand new porn actress must have been some sort of game. You didn’t care. This one gig was about to pay off your loans and buy you a brand new car all at the same time. You just needed to survive Mr. Dangerous. 

“Honey, are you comin’? We gotta shoot outside before the sun goes down.”

The voice came from the doorway, but you weren’t the honey, for once. They were talking to him. He didn’t answer. He just nodded, dismissing them, throwing his bright green swim shorts back on and rubbing the remainder of the oil into his broad chest. He was staring at you, biting hard at the inside of his cheek like he had a secret. Then, his expression became resolute, and he spoke to you softly, the way you do when you’re trying to coax a cat out from under a car,

“You gonna make it, lass?”

“Yeah,” you swiped on some waterproof mascara as an excuse to stare into the mirror and not at him, “I’m just a little nervous, that’s all. That seems normal.”

“It is,” Johnny moved closer to you, fluffing his own eyebrows in the mirror right alongside you, “Very normal. I’ll take care of you, hen. Nothin’ to worry your wee head about.”

You smiled. You didn’t want to thank him, exactly, but you wanted to be nice. Cordial. Professional. 

It wasn’t very professional of you to stare at the way his cock bounced as he adjusted his shorts, though, was it?

Then, to your shock, he leaned down and planted a kiss on the corner of your lips, tasting your sticky, cherry gloss, and saying, 

"See you in a bit, bonnie. Gonna make you feel real good." 

You stopped. He was gone, and for the first time that afternoon, you were alone. He lingered in all of the cracks and crevices of you, though. Now that he had pressed his lips to you, the spell had begun, and you realized you’d be fucking this man for hours. You drank your water from your icy jug, trying to turn it into liquid courage.

“Okay, okay, uhh… cute, yeah. Love it,” the director, Mike, appraised you like he worked on an assembly line, swooshing you over to the diving board with his hand, clutching a venti Starbucks cup in the other, “You look great, babe. Go sit on the diving board and let’s do a little preamble. Feel yourself up, pretend that you’re sunbathing in Malibu and not fuckin’ Santa Clarita, mkay?”

You made your way over to the diving board, walking in a way that you assumed was sexual, making a sexual face, and moving your hands across your tits…sexually. You thought it was a fine job until you heard the cut whistle. 

Mike was behind four people, two cameras, and an iPad when he shouted at you again,

“This isn’t a goddamn church service, babe. C’mon. I get hard when Chuy over here drives too fast, and this is not doin’ it.” 

“Sorry,” you said, moving back to your mark, determined to be positively the sexiest sunbather he had ever seen. 

“Mikey,” you heard Johnny’s voice call out, “Lemme kick it off.”

“Shut up, Johnny. I can’t afford your extra minutes, you skank,” Mike laughed and sipped his triple caramel mochaccino. 

Johnny came out from his shaded tent and cut his eyes at Mike before staring right at you,

“No charge. Just want it to be right.”

“Ugh,” Mike rolled his eyes behind his too-small sunglasses, “You and your…” he used scare quotes, “... art . Fine. Whatever. I just don’t want to shoot in the goddamn dark, so hurry up.”

Johnny walked around the pool, stroking himself across his shorts to stay hard. He was so thick that it looked like he was petting a handle of vodka back and forth. You tried to control your face, but you were getting more and more nervous as he came closer and closer to you.

“C’mere, bonnie,” he pulled you up from the diving board and held you in his arms.

If it wasn’t for the twenty people sweating to death in black tech clothes and eating dried-out hummus from foam plates standing around you, you would have felt like you were at your high school formal, being cradled gently in hands that wanted to do so much more. 

“Eyes on me,” he whispered. 

You obeyed, for some reason. There was nothing else to do but obey him. 

When he bent to kiss you, you knew it was for the cameras, because the angle of his face was open and softly spread so that the way he sucked your lips into his mouth would be seen by A and B-roll film. You kissed him back, trying to turn the sexiness up to eleven, rubbing your hands on his rigid cock to appear wanton and needy. 

He shuddered, and you thought you’d done something wrong. The look in his eyes told a different story. They were feverish, daring, and his pupils were fully blown. You could smell the coconut sunscreen someone had applied to him, and you could feel his breathing quicken in his huge body. 

Mike’s nasally voice came over the speakers,

“Let’s get a boom in there and pick up some of the kissing noise, please. Also, Johnny, some of your famous accent there, baby. You know what the ladies like.”

You were being kissed again, now set up for everyone to hear. He was devouring you, and you tried to keep your footing, grabbing his hulking shoulders and running your hands across his hirsute form. His muscles rippled and stretched beneath your touch, and he spoke his lines,

“Thought you would sneak into my wee pool, did ya, hen?”

You gave your voice a high-pitched lilt,

“Yes, I just wanted to get nice and tan.”

“Aye?” He pulled the tie on your bikini top, “Wouldn’t wanna get any tan lines, huh?”

You shook your head no, kissing his bare chest and feeling the top slither off of you to hang around your waist. 

“Wow,” his voice had changed its timbre, “Look at these pretty tits. Jesus…”

Johnny brought his mouth down to your nipple and sucked on it, licking on your beaded nub until it tightened for him, making sure to allow the camera man a full view of your perky breasts as they filled his hands. 

You moaned, and then you remembered to moan the right way, high and whiny. The higher the pitch, the higher the profit, they’d said. 

Johnny stopped suddenly, looking you in your eyes,

“Go back, lass. The first way. Do it the first way.”

“Johnny!” Mike complained, “Do you wanna come sit in this fuckin’ chair, or are you gonna focus on gettin’ your fat dick wet? Stop directing mid-scene. Cut. Cut. Start over with the tit sucking, and we’ll take it from the top,” Mike changed the tone of his voice and smiled at you, “You’re doing great, babe. Ten outta ten.”

You felt Johnny move his mouth to you again, but this time, his eyes were watching you, looking at you and waiting for you to make a choice. He was eager to make you moan, sucking hard and then soft, letting his long tongue lave over you like an animal, nibbling at your skin and making your blood rush to the surface. 

You moaned for real, testing the waters. Johnny smiled so wide you could see his back teeth, his jaw open and parting to let his tongue come forward to do its work. 

“Tha’s it, hen. Lemme hear you.”

His enormous hand squeezed your other breast, and he moved his mouth between them, stirring up your pleasure like a whisk in cream. Soft peaks. 

You obliged. The more you moaned, the more he fondled. He was yanking at your strings and ripping the bikini from you quicker than you had assumed he would be, especially since you were still in the outdoor scene. Wasn’t this all supposed to be inside?

“Christ,” Mike groaned, “I look at my email for five seconds and you’re almost nose-deep in her asshole? Johnny, this was supposed to be at couch scene three. Can - hey! Can somebody get him a book?”

Someone handed him a book, and he tossed it in the bushes,

“I dinnae care if it’s scene five thousand, Mikey. Just shoot it vérité, mate. Just like old times,” Johnny barked. He was getting more and more ruffled as Mike kept cutting in, almost like he was impatient to be done with it. Done with you?  

Mike turned his head to his assistant and asked,

“How many minutes do we have? Are we good? Okay. Okay!” He threw up his hands, “Okay, Johnny, you prima donna bitch. Let’s take it inside.”

The Someone with the book now passed Johnny his robe and he shouldered it on. He looked around and barked again,

“Aye! Hers? Give it here.”

He then had your robe in his hands and put it over you, cloaking you in its soft terrycloth, making sure you were covered. It was such an abrupt stop to your pleasure, one that you were not used to making, and your body railed you for it. Your pussy throbbed, your nipples ached, and your belly was full of butterflies. He held your hand as you walked inside. Just as you were about to get into position four on couch three, he pulled you back, nodding up at Mike and his team of people.

“Okay, lets get lighting on couch scene three, Billy. Hey! Hotdog! I didn’t say pull the lamp. Put the lamp back. Thanks, my man. Two more clicks on the warm light. Okay, gross, one click. Perfecto.”

Mike’s head popped over his iPad,

“You lovebirds ready for scene three?”

“Hang on,” Johnny grumbled, removing his swim trunks and flip-flops. 

He positioned himself on the couch and spread his legs, jerking himself back to full hardness and staring right at you as he did so. 

“C’mon, bonnie. I’m ready for you.”

You made your way over to the couch and knelt down. You didn’t mean to, but you hissed when your knees hit the cold, hard tiles. 

“Sorry!” You whispered to him.

He took his hands off his cock and pulled you onto the couch with him,

“Here, bonnie girl. Like this instead, yeah?”

Johnny pushed himself out along the length of the couch so that you were both laying on it. You placed your knees on the arm of it, raising your bare ass in the air for B-roll shots, your face perfectly positioned at Johnny’s raging hard-on. It was massive up close. His plump head and thick rod had seemed normal in his huge hands, but now that your small fingers were wrapped around him, you couldn’t believe what you were seeing. 

“Okay, fuck,” Mike smiled, drinking his coffee and nodding, “That’s hot. Good call, new girl. Smart.”

You smiled back at Mike, grateful for the praise, feeling like you were going to knock it out of the park. Then, Johnny’s cruel hand grabbed your hair and turned your head up to stare into his eyes. He grinned like a demon,

“You don’t have to smile at him, lass. He’s a fuckin’ bawbag.”

“JD! Can we get on with it?” Mike rolled his eyes. 

You got on with it. Something in Johnny’s demeanor had stirred a dark place in your belly. He was possessive, and he didn’t like you smiling at Mike. He did like the way you took each of his balls in your mouth and sucked on them with loose, pouty lips. His moans were cut short, not wanting to over-saturate the reel with male grunting sounds. Apparently, the straight male audience wasn’t a fan of anyone’s grunting but their own. 

He also liked when you tried to take him into your throat, moving your head as far as you could down his shaft, choking on his cock until you felt drool coat the inside of your mouth. You spit it onto him, and he wrenched his eyes shut, unable to watch you fuck your own face with his shaft. 

“Okay, while Johnny’s taking a nap or whatever that face is, let’s get B-roll in here for her mouth. Also, let’s take a minute or so of that gorgeous ass she’s got up there for us. That’s gonna be money, my friend. You are gonna be Miss Popular!”

In the place where you were staring before, Johnny’s face of agony and bliss, now there was a big, black lens. You could see yourself, bobbing up and down hungrily, and you pulled out all the stops. You suckled gently on his glans, lapping up his precome dutifully, enjoying it enough to moan again. 

He jumped, and Johnny’s hand snaked its way under the camera to squeeze the life out of his shaft. 

“Hey, mate, move to B-roll of her ass, would ya?”

The camera man laughed,

“About to lose it, Johnny? I thought she was the newbie.”

“Shut up, mate.”

You stayed stock still, watching as the camera moved to your rear end, feeling beyond exposed. You played with your pussy, spreading it open, fingering yourself, all of the things you were supposed to do. And, to be honest, it felt great. You needed to come so badly, a warm breeze would have been sexy to you at this point. 

Johnny stared down at you, his dick still in the prison of his fist, panting,

“How are we doin’, lass?”

“Good, you?” You appreciated the check-in. 

“Good. Ready to fuck you. So damn ready.”

His voice and his eyes were predatory. You felt like his prey. Prey had claws, too, though. So, you licked his shaft again, and you fed his own line back to him,

“I’m gonna come so fast. You’re gonna make me feel so good, baby.”

His face changed into a look of shock. Just then, Mike rang the bell,

“Alright, it’s couch doggy and - what does this say?”

“Light,” someone told him.

“Okay, light spanking? You okay with that new girl? It says you signed off on it.”

“Yeah,” you shrugged. 

“Okie dokie, just checking. Sweet. Let’s get there.”

Johnny was standing at the arm of the couch, positioned behind you were you couldn’t see him. You felt his hands rub your cheeks and spread them wide, opening your core up to him. Then, that long tongue was lapping up your wetness, and he was talking with his mouth full,

“Mmf, so wet for me, lassie. That’s my good girl.”

Your pussy clenched and you knew he could see it. You thought he might laugh or make some other comment, but he kept your secret, licking the inside of you with soft, languid strokes, you gave him another clench - this time on purpose - waiting to see if you could rile him up again. 

“Oh, fuck,” Johnny moaned, “You’re so ready for me. Fuck me, wait.”

He stopped eating you out, which was the opposite of what you were going for. This shoot was a disaster, and you really needed this gig.

“I’m sorry!” You said, turning around.

“What?” His brow furrowed, “No, just wait. Mike!”

“What is it now? Johnny - this is why I didn’t call you about Manuel Ferrara’s gangbang.”

“I just need my bag.”

Mike’s sigh was theatrical,

“Everyone take five.”

The bell went off again. You sat on the couch and the same someone brought you your robe and a water. You smiled and thanked them. Johnny had disappeared, but when he came back, he was wearing a thick, black cock ring, tightly secured around his shaft and balls. 

“Okay,” he sighed, sitting by you on the couch, robeless.

“Are you alright?” You asked, offering him some of your water.

He took it, gulping down two huge swallows before responding,

“Aye, lass. Just had to stop myself from ending this show too soon.”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise,

“I thought it was for the opposite reason. Must be hard to keep it up for such a long time, especially with all these breaks.”

He laughed,

“Usually, yeah. But, not today.”

His eyes were raking over you, still hungry for you even though he’d seen it all already. It would have been a lie to say you weren’t hungry for him, too. It was intoxicating, the way he stared at you, eager and joyful. You weren’t surprised he was so popular. 

“Annnnnd, we’re back, people! Baby, could you perch up there again, please? Now that Mr. Princess is done preening, we can shoot a fucking porno.”

You repositioned yourself back to where you were, and someone came by to re-oil your ass cheeks. They felt shiny, and you hoped you looked great. Watching the film was going to be humbling, but this was your first time and you were learning so much. 

Johnny took his place behind you, and you felt the familiar, heavy slap of a cockhead on your pussy lips, sticky and exciting. You gasped. He responded, 

“That’s right, hen. It’s time for your reward.”

He began to feed his head into you, and the crown of it popped into your hole with some resistance. Behind you, his thick fingers spread your cheeks apart, and you felt one hand leave just to return in a sharp smack. You cried out louder. He sank in a little deeper, moaning right along with you. He slapped your ass again and growled,

“Fuuuuuuck, that’s too tight, that’s too tight. Oh, Jesus.”

You keened, embarrassed, but unable to stop the noise that came out of your mouth. 

“You like it, lass? Gettin’ this pretty little cunt all stretched out for me. Gonna make you beg for this cock and only this fuckin’ cock, ain’t that right?”

“Yeah,” you moaned, your voice straining, “Only this cock, baby. Fuck me nice and hard.”

You regretted every word because he was pleased to oblige you. He slammed himself down into your aching hole, pressing through your walls, through your wetness and the oil and the lube, and it still wasn’t enough. You felt like you were tearing apart, especially when he pressed you onto his hilt. 

Everything slowed way down. You saw white, for a moment, and you felt tears well up in your eyes, burning on their way down your cheeks. He was trying to ease you though it, but you were coming on him. Your whole body was shaking and trembling, and his girth was forcing an orgasm to rattle through your core. You even felt him fighting to stay inside of you, battling against your tightening walls, desperate to keep his position, nestled at your womb, deep within you. 

“Oh, fuck! Lass! Holy God, that pussy is tight. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

You felt him slap you again, but the sting was gone. Your body had flooded you with orgasmic endorphins and adrenilne, and it was going to take a lot more than a “light spanking” to get your attention away from the cosmic nova exploding in your belly. 

Johnny’s thrusts were that of a hungry beast. He didn’t falter, nor slow, nor stop to check and see if you were even still alive. He was chasing himself down inside of you like a dog with its tail. Over and over and over, you felt the heavy weight of him pushed forward, smacking into you, feeling his hips snap repeatedly spearing your core with his enormous rod. He was grunting with abandon now, just barking out cries along with you, and when you looked at him over your shoulder, his face was bent and twisted in such a rage that it frightened you. He looked inhuman.

Suddenly, you were lifted from the couch, and his hands were around you. He flipped you over and held your thighs pressed down to your chest, creating an even deeper angle. You regained your thoughts quickly enough to hold your legs pinned for him, only half-worried that you’d tumble off the couch. 

You weren’t sure it was possible though, since his grip on your waist was so punishingly tight. He was fucking you so hard and so fast that you were feeling it in your bones. Your hips were taking the brunt of his sex-fueled wrath, and you knew you were going to be sore tomorrow. 

Then, his fingers found your clit, rubbing accurate and pleasure-filled circles around and around, making your lips swell with intensity. You were going to come again, and you told him so,

“Johnny… you’re gonna make me come, baby.”

“Come,” he snarled down at you, his eyes wild and haunted, “Come on me. I wanna feel you fuckin’ squeeze me out. Come. Come. Come, lass. Come for me, pretty girl. Oh! Oh, there it is. Yes, yes, yes, good girl. Good girl. Fuck!”

He rode you through your orgasm and stalled, leaving himself inside of your fluttering walls, basking in the sensation, trying to catch his breath. Johnny sat on the couch and you climbed into his lap, taking his cock in your hands and guiding it back into your dripping hole. 

“Bonnie,” he sighed, kissing your neck and grabbing your ass in both of his hands, “You feel like heaven. God, baby, don’t stop. Just like that, don’t stop.”

You were rocking back and forth on him, and you could feel his swollen head rubbing at the end of your pussy, bullying your cervix, making you feel too full. 

“It’s too much, baby,” you confessed, squishing your breasts together and letting him move his mouth across your nipples once again, “You’re too big. Filling me up… I’m so full.”

“You’re so tight, lass.”

He said it like a prayer. His eyes were glassy as they stared up at you. All of his bravado and flirtatiousness was gone, and it had been replaced by boyish wonder. It was as if it was his first time to feel the inside of a woman, to be hugged, warm and wet, engulfed in her core and playing within her the oldest song known to man. You sang it for him, not for profit anymore. His bewtichment was complete. You were totally and completely ensnared by him. 

Then, he held you to him, clutching you to his chest and screaming out loud, braying and writhing beneath you. He was coming. You felt him pulse, over and over, spilling and foaming and frothing around the edges of your hole, soaking you from the inside. 

You rode him slowly, back down from his high, and he gasped with every roll of your hips, looking at you in some sort of horrible ecstasy. 

Mike’s bell went off in your ear.

“Okay, folks! Thanks so much. Let’s wrap it. I’m sure some of this is salvageable. Johnny, and uh… whatever your name is, you still owe me garden scene six and upstairs… um, is it pool table? It’s pool table. Wanna be back here tomorrow at two?”

Johnny gave an exhausted thumbs up, and so did you, finally sliding yourself off of him with a wet milky sound. 

“Um,” you tried to catch your breath, “Thanks, for helping me today. Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”

He looked at you quizzically, almost a little hurt. It was a confusing face to see, but you didn’t really know him that well, so you waited for his reply.

“Sure, bonnie.”

You untangled your legs from him and pulled on your robe, leaving him on the couch. You needed a shower and some brand of fast food, as soon as physically possible. 

The bathroom was steaming when you hopped in, and you were covered head to toe in coconut smelling soap when you heard a knock at the door. 

“Uh, come in?” You peeked around the glass partition.

It was Johnny. 

“Got room for one more, lass?”

You looked around behind him, half-expecting a camera to pop out. He noticed your reticence, and he shook his head,

“Nevermind. Forget I asked.”

“Hey, yeah. Sure, if you want. Come on in,” you moved deeper into the shower, letting him step into the billowing steam. 

At first, he was silent, just washing himself, scraping the suds over his body and sharing the water with you. But, then, he asked,

“Wanna get a bite? I’m starvin’ to death.”

“Me, too,” you laughed. 

“Class,” he smiled.

There was another long pause, and then when you turned off the water, he stepped into your space, too close to be friendly, 

“What if I was still hungry for you as well, hen? What would you say to that?”

The water dripped from the head of the shower in a soft tinkling pattern. You breathed each other’s breaths, inching closer and closer until your lips touched his wide chest, the hair smeared flat from the warm water, rivulets rushing down his belly to his crotch, dripping off of him and of you. 

You kissed his chest again, feeling him shudder under you as if he hadn’t just come inside of you minutes ago, packed with anxious excitement. 

Smiling up at him, you took a chance, 

“Your couch or mine?”

Chapter 02

[grapejuicestyless]

We Can Run Away

Harry Styles x fem!reader

Summery: She was everything he ever wanted, and she was clueless about everything he ever was. And somehow, they understood each other all because of the subway.

Harry usually wasn’t one to take the subway after a long night. Often, he was in some black van on his way to his bed minutes after he sang out the last note, the crowd still roaring with excitement from the set inside as he departed from the venue. But tonight, Harry was still wide awake after his set finished. Instead, he’d stayed behind, fixing things up backstage until the very last fan had left the arena, leaving Harry almost completely alone in the large space that was once filled with the love and laughter of anxious fans screaming his name.

So tonight, Harry decided to walk among the quiet folk and take the empty train back to where he was staying for the night. The subway only ran this late on nights like tonight. Nights where people were destined to be out late, living their young lives dancing in the pit and accompanying their children in the nosebleeds.

Harry hopped on the last train home, the emptiness of the car relaxing, his bag settled down beside him and a book on his lap. He found the atmosphere was a perfect place for him to wind down from his extended high, to tire him out and help him doze off peacefully tonight.

There was only one other person with him late at night. A young woman who wore frayed jeans shorts, boston clogs with bunched up socks, and the deepest red sweatshirt he’d ever seen. She looked like she wasn’t aware of the time, wide awake with a calm smile on her face as if the day was brand new.

The morning had just began to roll around, but darkness still covered the sky. Not even breaking three a.m. yet and still, she could have fooled him into believing it was nearly noon if not for the emptiness surrounding them.

She was no bother to Harry though, so he patiently flipped through his book, rereading some of the pages because his mind wandered off in the middle of the paragraphs and he couldn’t focus. But just before he decided to set the book down for the night and enjoy the rest of the ride, a soft voice spoke up.

“I love that book.”

Harry looked up to see the calm girl looking back at him. She had red lips and gentle eyes. The kind that pulled you in if you looked too deeply. The kind any person would trust blindly, and the kind that held a complex kind of innocence in them.

At first, he simply nodded, unaware of what he was supposed to say and not up for a conversation, but he couldn’t seem to pull his eyes from the captivating girl across from him.

“A Little Life, right?” The girl asked, persistently looking for a small conversation to fill the gaps of silence on the short ride across the city.

“Yeah.” Harry nodded, a small smile spreading across his face. “You have good taste.”

The girl simply shrugged.

“It’s a classic, right? I think everyone should read it at some point.”

“I don’t think everyone would enjoy it, it’s a little slow.” Harry commented, enjoying hearing the girls voice.

“Maybe.” The girl shrugged again, “But that’s what makes this one so good. It makes everything feel more real when it takes time for everything to crash down. The fall doesn’t happen overnight.” She defended.

“I take it you really love this book then.” Harry laughed quietly at the conversation.

“Yeah, you could say that.”

The train fell quiet again, but Harry couldn’t have gone back to reading if he tried. He placed the bookmark between the pages and instead took time to admire the way the book looked between his hands.

“I love the cover too. I wish I took that photo every day.”

Harry raised a brow, observing the cover more closely than he had before.

“I’m a photographer.” The girl added, and Harry hummed.

“What kinds of photos do you take?” He couldn’t help but ask.

“I mainly help with shoots for magazines. Vogue, Rolling Stone, Elle. I’ve been around the industry for as long as I can remember. Sometimes I help take photos for movies, which is cool, but mainly I just take photos for myself nowadays. You know, just letting my friends play dress up and creating the things I’ve been wanting to for a while.”

With the way she spoke about her job, Harry had not a single doubt that she held the most sincere love for the art she worked within. The kind girl talking quietly, but quickly about what she did and why she loved it, Harry wished she had kept rambling to him so he could have kept listening.

“What about you?” The girl asked suddenly, catching Harry off guard. He stumbled around for an answer before deciding on something vague.

“I work in music. I sing.” Harry nodded his head, watching how the girls eyes lit up in interest.

“That’s so cool, do you play shows ever?” The girl asked and Harry couldn’t help but bite back a laugh. He was sure he had glitter from his outfit he danced around stage in stuck to his face still and feathers from boas curled in his hair.

“Sometimes, yeah.” Harry smiled at the girls innocence.

“Do you play around here ever?”

“You ask a lot of questions.” Harry smiled.

“I’m just trying to pass time.” The girl responded quickly. “So do you?”

Harry nodded. “Yeah, sometimes.”

The girl hummed.

“I’m Y/n, by the way.” She extended her hand, and Harry mouthed her name back to her after she’d spoken it. Just to see how it would feel on his tongue.

“I’m Harry.” She repeated his name softly like an echo as he took her hand in his to shake it.

The robotic voice announced the final stop, and Harry watched as Y/n stood in a way that mirrored his movements. He figured he didn’t mind the fact that his walk home wouldn’t be as lonely as he thought, and in fact, he found himself silently praying that she would walk the same way as him as they stepped onto the platform.

“I hope you’re not following me, Harry.” Y/n joked as their footsteps fell into sync, sweaty palms shoved into their front pockets and their eyes adverting each others.

“Maybe I just want to know more about you.” Harry smiled. He decided he liked the way Y/n made him feel. Like he was desperate for the next sentence to come out of her mouth. Like he needed to know what she had to say. But maybe he was just getting tired.

“There’s not much else to know. I live a pretty boring life, I think you’ll find.”

“Well, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“I didn’t say there was.” Y/n smiled, and Harry found himself blushing.

“I think the quiet can be good.” Y/n stated softly, looking at the way her feet fell between the large squares on the sidewalk. “It can be lonely, and that can be sad sometimes, but I don’t really mind it if I get to keep my peace.” She explained thoughtfully.

“Do you think about this often?” Harry couldn’t help but ask.

“When you live alone you have the time to think about a lot of things.” She responded, and Harry simply nodded.

“I like the quiet life too. It’s nice to step into the storm once in a while and see where you get dragged, but it’s nice to know where you’ll end up in the morning without a doubt.”

Y/n hummed at Harry’s response.

“I used to party a lot in college.” She laughed at herself. “Which is hard to believe now because I feel like my back was broken by a thousand bricks somewhere in my mid twenties but, I get what you mean. It was fun when it was cool, and when I had people I liked going out with. But I think I’d much rather prefer to know I’ll end up in my own bed in the morning.”

Harry couldn’t help but laugh at the girl beside him. Her toothy grin and her crinkles by her eyes. Harry imagined her a few years back, he imagined taking her to all the best spots in the city he could rack off in his mind. He figured she would be the life of the party. She made him feel like the subway was some first class plane ride and the trash rolling beneath his feet was golden.

“Are you always this talkative?” He laughed softly.

She shrugged.

“My mom would agree. She said when I was younger I would talk to anything that had ears. Sometimes she’d catch me pulling the grass outside because I liked to braid it, and she said I would be talking to myself. But I always told her I was talking to the butterflies.” She laughed at herself.

“What about you? Do you always entertain strangers on the subway?”

“Well, we aren’t really strangers anymore.” Harry argued. Y/n smiled at him.

“I guess not.” She shook her head thoughtfully.

“I don’t, usually, though.” Harry sighed. “But you’re nice enough. Easy to talk to, I guess.”

“Anyones easy to talk to when they can’t shut up.” She joked, and Harry simply laughed at her for the millionth time.

“I guess so.”

As their laughter fizzled out into giggles, a warm silence wrapped around them, the humidity of the summer air sticking to their skin like glue. Harry caught Y/n’s eye every few steps, swallowing repeatedly as if by doing so, he would think of something else to say.

“Are you from here?” She asked softly.

“Somewhat. What about you?”

She shook her head.

“I’m from the east coast. The United States.” She said softly.

“Why’d you leave?” Harry couldn’t help but ask.

“The city wasn’t for me. I wanted to live by a beach so I left to where I could find that. But then I guess that wasn’t what I wanted either. I think maybe I was made for the city, just not…that one.” She sighed in the middle of her sentence, like the memory of home was daunting to her.

“What about London? What drew you to it?” Harry asked softly.

Y/n shrugged, her eyes flickered to the ground.

“It reminded me of home without having to be there.”

Harry didn’t know what to say to that, but she didn’t really seem sad when she said it. Almost like it was some kind of relief.

“My mom said there was something really wrong with me when I was a kid, but I’ve always liked who I am.” She smiled up at Harry honestly, holding her hands in her palms.

“You know, I like that I can talk for hours, I like that I apologize all the time, I like that I’ve lived out my twenties the way I should have. I like when my bangs grow past my ears, and I like running because it reminds me of running in the park, and I’m not sorry because I love the girl who looks back at me in the mirror because she’s a collection of everything she’s ever loved and I think thats neat.” She ranted, a smile on her face the whole time, and breathy laughter escaping her lips.

Harry wanted to say something, to smile and agree that he also enjoyed her sticking around, but she had stopped a few feet back, her shoes wiping against a small brown doormat with no welcoming message painted on it.

“This is my stop.”

“Will I ever see you again?” Harry asked desperately from afar, like he couldn’t enter her space if he tried.

“Maybe.”

“Well, I really like the person you are too, I’d like to see you again.” He added, his words quick and desperate.

“You know where I live, Harry.” She stated simply, a smile on her face.

And it was true, he did. But she wasn’t on his way home. He’d passed his house a few blocks back, and somehow he hadn’t even noticed.

“What if you leave again?” He couldn’t help but ask.

She simply smiled.

“We can run away together.”

[ilikethisacompletelynormalamount]

Andrew Scott, Vogue: April 2024.

by Zing Tsjeng, Photos by Annie Leibovitz

Ripley, in other words, is the hero of the tale. “That’s why he fascinates so many,” says Scott. “There’s been so many iterations of him. I think it’s because people root for him.” Actors like Alain Delon and Dennis Hopper have tried the role; Matt Damon played him as an obsequious, lower-class naïf; John Malkovich, as a slimy, camp killer. Scott’s Ripley is different; a watchful loner escaping rodent-infested poverty, more at home among art than he is around people. Musician and actor Johnny Flynn plays his first victim—the monied Dickie Greenleaf—and Dakota Fanning is Dickie’s suspicious ex-girlfriend. “I find Tom quite vulnerable,” Scott tells me. “I don’t think he’s necessarily lonely, but I certainly think he’s solitary…. He seems to me by his nature that he just can’t fit in. He’s trying to survive.”

In Ripley, Zaillian extracts maximum Hitchcockian dread from every creaky footstep. But most sinister of all is Scott’s face, which exhibits a sharklike steeliness throughout. It’s a performance that exudes queasy force. Is Ripley a scammer, a psychopath, or both? “There’s so many things lurking beneath him that I’ve been very reluctant to diagnose him with anything. I never thought of him as a sociopath or murderous,” Scott declares. “It’s up to everybody else to characterize him or call him whatever they want.”

As we weave through tourists near the Tower of London, barely anybody notices Scott, save for a faint glimmer of recognition among mainly young women. He seems to draw reassurance from it. “I don’t like to think about it too much, if I’m honest,” he muses of fame. “I find it a little bit, er, frightening.” He is known but not blockbuster-recognizable, although he is in the upcoming Back in Action with Cameron Diaz and Jamie Foxx. What stunts did he do? “I can’t give that away, I’m afraid, or somebody from Netflix will come and shoot me in the head.”

What’s been on Scott’s mind the most hasn’t been acting at all, in fact, but art. As a 17-year-old, he was offered his first movie role on the same day he was given a scholarship to study painting. He chose acting, but has recently been thinking about Oliver Burkeman’s philosophical self-help tract from 2021, Four Thousand Weeks, which makes the case for focusing on the five things you truly want to accomplish. “For me at the moment, it’s like, What do you want to do? What do you want to say?”

He scrolls through his phone to show me his work. There’s a watercolor of a couple arguing in a restaurant in rich reds and greens, line drawings of friends and people on the beach, and two self-portraits. “It’s a bit weird,” he acknowledges of his depiction of himself, all bulbous forehead and Pan-like tufts of hair. His brisk, nervy lines are reminiscent of Egon Schiele or Francis Bacon, who turns out to be one of his favorite painters. “Well, God, I’ll take that,” he mutters at the comparison. He would like someday to go to art school. “I don’t ever regret it,” he says of acting. “But I suppose you just get to a stage where you think, What else? That’s one of the big painful things in life for me, where you can’t quite live all the lives.” As he gets older, he feels the tug toward revisiting old working relationships, including with Waller-Bridge: “We’ve definitely got things cooking,” he smiles. “I’d love to work with her again. She’s just a singular, wonderful person.” For her part, Waller-Bridge says: “I’d love to see him do a fully unhinged slapstick comedy character. Someone who is outraged at everything, all of the time.”

As we round the pavement and the Tate Modern looms back into sight, he recalls a poster he received in 2017—a monstrously large graphic that detailed every week in a human life span. “It’s your entire life if you live to 80—you have to fill in all the bits that you’ve already lived,” he remembers in awe, “a visually terrifying gift.” What did he do with it? “I didn’t hold on to it for too long.” Easy come, easy go: We finally finish our loop around the Thames and, as Scott disappears back into the throng, anonymous just the way he likes it, it occurs to me that the actor has many lives to live yet. ■

[steveshairychest]

Fashion designer Steve, who accepts a contract to have Rockstar Eddie Munson wear his designs in the latest addition of vogue, but the thing is, he hates Eddie. Hates his cocky smile, his music, the way he called Steve 'doll' the first time they met at some celebrity's birthday party made his skin crawl. But Steve isn't stupid. Eddie's hot, popular and Steve's latest line would look amazing on him. This is the only reason he accepts the deal. If people saw Eddie wearing his designs, they would buy them. Plain and simple.

Steve spends all morning before the shoot dreading having to deal with loud, obnoxious Eddie Munson. He chain smokes on the roof of his studio and tries to remind himself of all the pros of this shoot, of how influential Eddie is. The cons are way longer than the pros.

It's barely past 8am when the studio doors open and in walks the cause of his current headache, but there's something different about this man nervously walking into his studio to the one he's so used to seeing and avoiding at parties. There's no dramatic entrance, no tight leather pants and way too much eye-liner. There's just this... guy. He's in fucking sweatpants and what looks like a pyjama shirt that's been worn way too much, and his hair is tied up in a loose bun that shows off all the earrings he isn't wearing.

"Hi, I'm Eddie." He sticks out his hand politely for a hand shake and Steve is so shocked. He may have squeezed his hand a bit too tightly. "I'm super excited for the shoot! I love your designs." He's smiling at Steve but it's soft, genuine, gentle. It lacks the severity, the cockiness of the smiles he's seen before.

"Uh, thanks." Steve says dumbly and just walks away to the rack of clothes he has picked out for Eddie. "It's just me and you today. Is that okay with you? I work better when it's just me and the model." Steve takes all of his own photos, makes all his designs, does all the make-up and set design. In this industry, he's learned that if you want something done right, you need to do it yourself.

When Steve turns back around, Eddie is standing in the middle of the studio, awkwardly twisting the fabric of his shirt while rocking back onto the balls of his feet. "Yep, that's cool. It's totally cool. Cool as." His cheeks are bright red and he keeps looking around the empty studio, looking anywhere but at Steve.

"Are you nervous?" Steve asks. Nervous and Eddie Munson don't seem like two things that go together in Steve's mind. He's seen Eddie walk out onto a stage in front of thousands of people and thrust against a microphone while singing about sex. But doing a shoot alone with Steve makes him nervous?

"Yeah, you could say I'm a little nervous." He chuckles awkwardly and twirls a loose strand of hair that has fallen from the bun. "I've kind of always wanted to do a shoot with you and I'm terrified I'm going to fuck it up."

That's.. not what Steve was expecting.

"Oh." He says simply, not quite sure what to say to something like that.

"Did I just fuck it up?" Eddie drops the piece of hair and the absolute horror on his face causes Steve to smile.

He shakes his head and hands Eddie an armful of clothes. "Go get changed, pretty boy. You haven't fucked up, if anything you've just secured a permanent spot on my roster." He looks Eddie up and down once. "I like this version of you."

Eddie laughs. "You like my pyjamas?"

"No, you. You seem more real, less, no offence, douchey."

Eddie shrugs and nods in agreement, a few more strands of brown curls fall free. Steve will have to fix that. He wants Eddie's hair up for the shoot. He wants to be able to see every facial expression when Steve tells him how good he is. At posing, that is.

"Being a regular dude isn't what sells albums, unfortunately. So, I've gotta play the part. I've gotta sell sex and make myself seem otherworldly, untouchable, so that people will want me, want my music." He says this with a shrug, acts like it's just a casual thing to say. Steve can see that it's more than that though, can see how much Eddie dislikes having to play pretend to get people to like him.

He nods over to the small dressing room. "You don't have to be anyone else today. I just want Eddie. Only wear what you're comfortable in. I'll order us some breakfast, yeah?" He tries to make Eddie feel comfortable, tries to release some of the tension that had settled in the air by being friendly, a lot friendlier than he normally is with celebrity models. He usually tries to keep a distance from them.

"Pizza?" Eddie asks hopefully.

Steve scrunches up his nose and raises an eyebrow in question. "For breakfast? Really?" That didn't surprise him at all. Eddie's a rockstar. He's probably never had a balanced meal in his life.

Steve ignores the little voice in his head that whispers I could cook for him, make sure he's eating well and looking after himself.

"Yes, really. Extra anchovies, please."

"I've changed my mind. You've fucked it up. Go home."

Steve hears Eddie cackle as he slams the dressing room door shut and it's a surprisingly nice sound. Not as grating and obnoxious as the fake laugh he'd been subjected to at a party last year, it's a warm, almost melodic sound and it makes Steve's lips twitch into a smile.

Maybe this shoot won't be as torturous as he'd thought it would be.

[poppy-metal]

poppyyyyy i’m gonna cry not the thing i sent you being turned into an au and i have no more ideas for it 😭😭 this is hell. all i have to offer is this ( https://pin.it/4XElozLiD ) is nepo brats wedding dress in my head and it was one of those ones that’s shot by vogue and like sponsored by harry winston and they have a breakfast at tiffany’s themed rehearsal dinner like just a massive networking event essentially that she only agreed to bc she REALLY wanted artashi to see and react and bust down her door to beg for her back. also love the idea of a shitty marriage, i imagine it’s like when blair got married in gossip girl and she thought everything was perfect (on the outside at least) and then when they had their first dance he essentially was like “play your fucking part and this will be so much easier for you” and she was like oooooh shit what did i do 😐 called tashi in tears and she charters her a plane and lets her stay at their penthouse for a few days…..i wanna sit on their couch in a big gown with tears streaming down my face and have them take care of me even tho they’re pissed :( doesn’t mean they wanna see me hurt this badly :( need to try to apologize through sobs and have art say we’ll talk about this in the morning as tashi brushes hair off my forehead and pauses like she’s gonna kiss it :(

OR you could have her freeze up after he pops her little perfect marriage delusion and have her go along with it for months, maybe there’s a fan account that follows your every move that tashi checks daily on a burner. she notices the dwindling amount of times you’re seen with friends, essentially the only time you’re seen now is with that man by your side. over the months your personality snuffs out entirely, looking to him before you speak, smiling along to whatever he says. people make jokes about how your PR team finally broke you. one day art is standing in the corner of their living room, face twisted up, doesn’t look up when tashi makes an inquisitive sound. walks over to her and turns his phone around to show her a photo of you walking hand in hand with your husband into a restaurant, faint bruises up your arm, hair covering your eye intentionally. she stares at the phone with no reaction. finishes getting ready to go, says she forgot something as they get in their car and runs upstairs and barely makes it to the bathroom before she throws up. you’ve changed assistants by now but she finds their information within the hour, loosely threatens them with telling her where you’ll be for the rest of the day, rolls her eyes hard when she hears a “they” instead of “you”. doesn’t change anything she has planned. she makes a call to her legal team after hanging up with your assistant because there’s no way your husband will let you out of this without a fight, one that she’s prepared to hold your hand through the entire way. she shoots her husband a text and lets him know to get the guest bedroom ready.

AUR.

i think..... both can happen. you run to tashi as soon as the wedding is over - still in your dress, though its ripped in places - show up on her doorstep because you know the code to the gate - shivering in the cold and when the door opens tashi is looks so soft. like she'd just gotten ready for bed. hair a little damp and curling at the ends. a pale peach robe tied around her waist. she's beautiful.

she doesn't look happy to see you. "what are you doing here?" said so coldly. like you're not welcome. and why would you be? its so different to face her anger through miles and miles of distance. all you've wanted for months was for her to just - notice you. give you attention. you'd even say sorry, take the blame, take every word back, if she'd asked. but she's looking at you like you're an annoying reporter. a nuisance shown up at her door.

you break down in tears. full body sobs that have you kneeling at her door, at her feet, head in your hands as you shake with all your bottled up emotions. "i messed up." you choke - "i - i - i - its all wrong - tashi - "

you can't speak through your tears, heaving through wet flem in your throat. she'd have every right to toss you out. you wondered how pitiful you looked right now, crumpled like this. still in your wedding dress. your new husband probably buried in some other woman for the night. he wouldn't miss you. you didn't want to go to your new home with him.

you feel warmth at your elbows. tashi's hands, cupping you. "come on." her tone isn't warm, but its lost its chill. she tugs you up. "come in - you'll get fucking pneumonia out here."

she brings you in - one hand at the small of your back to guide you. you sniffle. look around. her home still looks the same. familiar. you're brought to their big expansive kitchen - where art had been scrolling through his phone in sweats and a simple cotton shirt - finishing off a bowl of fruit - when you come into view his fork pauses in the bowl. his expression is completely unreadable. but its not very welcoming.

he looks at tashi, dismissing you. you try not to flinch.

"what's this about?"

tashi leaves you at the kitchen island to open the fridge. she fishes out a bottle of water and brings it over to you. "drink this." she tells you. to art she simply shrugs. "dont know." and she looks at you. "what's this about?"

you struggle to open the bottle. your hands trembling. after a few failed attempts art rolls his eyes, yanks the water from you and opens it with one twist of his wrist around the cap. quick and easy. he slides it back over to you and looks at you blankly.

under both their stares you feel the weight of all the months between you. all the shit you talked about them on social media. the things you'd said.... your bottom lip wobbles. eyes filling with tears. "im sorry." you say, softly. you cant think of what else to say. "im - im sorry for coming - i- ill go."

tashi reaches out. you're startled by how strong her grip is on your arm. her nails almost dig into your flesh. you welcome the sting. a show of emotion. even if its anger. her claws coming out.

"no." she snaps. "you dont get to show up here after the shitshow you've made of this year - in your fucking wedding dress - sniveling like some sort of damsel at our home and then just leave." she points to a stool. "sit. explain why you came."

her tone leaves no room for argument. you find your ass in the stool before you even realize you'd made the conscious decision to move there. like a doll on her strings. it'd always been easy to take her orders.

you try to explain but you're pitiful at it. you keep crying when you bring up your husband - the way he'd treated you. how trapped you feel. how you came here because - despite everything, this was your safe space - you'd never seen it any differently. and you knew, no matter what, tashi would answer the door when she saw it was you on the other side.

they're quiet after that. art works his jaw like hes rolling thoughts around in his head, but his distrust is obvious. you know if he'd been the one to see you at the door, he'd have never answered. that knowledge hurts deeply - to know he's completely detached himself from you. that you'd lost him. his care and his love.

you wondered if you'd be thrown out regardless but tashi rubs at her temple. suddenly looking very worn out and tired. "this is a fucking mess." she says and your stomach twists. you were always complicating things for them. being a burden. she drops her hand. looks down at you like you're a puzzle with a few pieces missing.

you guys are the missing piece, you think.

"you can stay the night." she finally settles on, shares a look with art who looks like he wants to say something about that but she silences him. "we'll talk more about this in the morning. you need..... you need to get out of that god awful dress. and too sleep."

art watches tashi guide you to their guest room with a frown. he doesn't like this. tashi is such a strong front on the outside, but she was alot more vulnerable than people realized. and you'd really hurt her. you'd hurt both of them, but arts feelings..... they didn't matter here. at least, not to him. he could shove down the heartbreak and the anger and the betrayal and everything else he felt about you to make room for the world of hurt tashi was going through. he had to be strong for her. and you being here - showing back up - pouring salt in an open wound - god. you were such a selfish fucking brat. always had been. he used to find it endearing. now he just wanted to throttle you.

in the guest room - tashi helps you out of the dress. her knuckles skim down your spine when she unzips you. kneeling down to help you out of your heels. you hiss when she turns your foot - assessing the blisters. "jesus." she huffs. stands and gets you some of her things to wear. a soft tank top and some shorts. arts boxers, actually. you flush when you put them on, under tashi's watchful gaze. she points to the bed when you're done, a silent command.

you sink down onto the comforter. bite your lip when she comes back into the room with a jar of ointment for your feet. "here -" she sits next to you, and a waft of her scent hits your nose. sophisticated and clean. she props your foot on her lap as she gently rubs the cream into the abused skin. you swallow, as you watch her. this gentleness. you'd missed it.

all your life you'd been 'taken care of' but only in the most clinical of ways. you had all the money you could want, maids to pamper you if you wanted, but it was nothing compared to being...... treated like a human. being cared for by someone who actually cares about you intimately.

"stop doing that." tashi says. she doesn't look up from her work.

"doing what?"

"looking at me like that." she tells you. she finishes and cups the lid back on the jar, and she looks at you. brown eyes.... sad. "we're not - " she breathes. shakes her head. "you can't look at me like that."

you scoot closer to her on the bed. she doesn't move away. "its the way I've always looked at you." you tell her.

she glances at you. glances down where your - her - shirt has slipped off your shoulder and its bare. so close to her mouth. she'd pressed alot of kisses there. left alot of marks.

"things have changed." she tells you. "you know that - you're responsible for it."

you place a hand on her thigh, just under her robe. lean in. "i know and im sorry." you slip to the floor then, on your knees before her. "i didn't mean any of it." you tell her, looking up at her. "i miss you, tashi. i miss art. i miss - us. i - i want you back."

tashi looks down at you. her hand comes out and she catches a strand of your hair between her fingers. rubs it. "you're married."

"I'll leave him."

her eyebrows jump. "you've been a very bad girl to me and my husband."

the way she says it.... bad girl. familiar warmth pools between your legs.

"i know." you whisper. "and im sorry." you lean more forward, and her legs slide open - her robe inching up her thighs. she watches you. heat in her eyes. she still wants you. yes. "let me make it up to you - to you both - i will - you know i can."

she studies you for some time. then she parts her legs wider. "show me, then. show me how sorry you are."

you dont have to be told twice - ducking your head down - diving between her soft thighs - you moan when you discover she's not wearing any panties. your mouth finding her pussy already wet and slick.

more wet than usual - but when you pull back - her hand comes down - tangles in your hair to keep you pressed against her bare cunt. you look up and meet her eyes as you allow your tongue to investigate - "that's it." she purrs. "you know what to do with that tongue -"

you gasp when you part her folds - a warm flood of salty fluid pouring into your mouth. a zap goes through your body at the realization.

arts cum.

she sees you realize it and bites her bottom lip. rocks herself into your face. "he's been so pent up lately." she tells you, hooks one of her long legs over your shoulder. "and its your fault - so -"

her nails dig into your scalp - "clean it up."

you do. whimpering into her pussy as you tongue the remaints of her husbands cum, scooping it into your mouth and swallowing greedily. you missed his taste so much. you wish he was here, pushing you into her pussy. slipping a hand down your shorts to pet through your wet slit. he'd make you eat every last drop before he sank a finger inside.

when everything is gone, tashi adjusts her grip. using you now. rubbing her clit against your nose and working her hips against your mouth exactly how she likes it. "fuck." she pants. she looks down at you and both her hands cup your cheeks. her thumbs rub into the skin. "pretty girl -" she breathes, and you whine, "this is what - fuck - what your mouth should be doing - instead of running off online -"

her grip turns vicious - her movements more forceful. properly fucking your face with her pussy. you just lay your tongue out and take it.

"you're such a goddamm brat." she hisses and her clit pulses as she starts to cum. "but - god, i missed you. yes -"

you lap up everything she gives you. eagerly. her hands carding through your hair as she comes down. she sits up, detaching your lips from between her legs and you look at eachother, lost in a moment together.

her fingers trace your wet mouth. and you part your lips for her instantly. looking up at her like shes a goddess - because she is. she strokes across your tongue with her fingers. your eyes flutter as you start to suck around the digits. mouth blessedly full. you bob your head up and down them, taking her past the knuckle.

your teeth catch on her wedding band and her breath hitches when you swirl your tongue around it. her mouth parted in wonder - like she cant believe you're really here again.

this is where you should be. always. at either her or arts feet. taking some part of them inside you. its what you're meant for. not money and wealth and jewelry but this. this, this, this.

tashi pulls her fingers back suddenly. her ring clicks against the back of your teeth.

her face shudders. closes off.

"that -" she licks her lips. "that shouldn't have happened." she stands, and you fall back on your ass. look up at her dumbfounded.

"tashi -"

"a mistake." she retightens the sash around her waist. rubs a hand down her face. looks down at you. winces. "don't cry."

but how can you not?

"but we just.... you said -"

"do you really think head is enough of an apology?" she tells you, and that tone is back. the cold one. she crosses her arms. "god, you've dragged my name through the mud. the damage you've done to arts career - we had to take a break, did you know that? he missed matches that could have changed his life. all of that, on hold, because you decided to throw a tantrum because what -" she laughs. "- you couldn't handle a break up? grow up."

she shakes her head. lips pressed tightly together. she cant look at you. if she sees your watery eyes she'll fold again. take you into her arms and forgert the past year entirely. fall back into bed with you and make you cum over and over until you were nothing but the shaking mess she missed seeing. god, she'd just cheated on art. fantastic.

"I'll help you get a divorce if thats what you want." she tells you, already walking away. "but after that? we're done. for good, this time."

the click of the door sounds like a bullet in your ears. you stay kneeled on the floor for a long, long time.

and the next morning - when tashi goes to wake you up. she finds the room empty but a note left on the bed. she almost doesn't want to read it. art is in the kitchen - making breakfast for four. because as mad as he pretends to be for her sake, he still thinks about you. cares about you. misses you as much as she does. it'll break him to learn about what she'd let happen - but only because he didn't get a chance to feel you one last time himself.

tashi was really the selfish one.

she picked up the note. read it.

i want you to know meeting you in that coffee shop was the best thing to ever happen to me. I'm a spoiled rotten brat, i know. but you taught me to be more. you let me into your life. gave me another person to love in art, and you both took care of me and treated me better than i deserved. im truly sorry for how things ended. and im sorry for how i acted after. i was hurt. i thought you didn't care about me. that maybe you never did. and i lashed out. im sorry. im taking back all my statements in an interview next week. i hope it can restore some of the damage I've done to you and art. you're two of the most wonderful people I've ever met. and im lucky to have fallen in love with both of you. im not divorcing my husband. i think maybe i can try to make it work. you dont need to worry about me, either of you, you've done enough of that. I'll be fine. love - your tinkerbell.

the note flutters to the ground limply. art calls that breakfast is ready.

tashi isn't hungry.

[drewsbuzzcut]

Behind The Scenes

Mat Barza x fem!model!reader

A visceral in doses fic

Warnings: some jealousy, a guy being a creep, smut, pregnancy, being naked, mentions nerves

Takes place early 2025

“I’m cold,” you complain with a shiver and scoot closer to Mat, letting his warmth heat up your body.

Right now you’re both on set for a photoshoot with Vogue. You and Mat are going to be on the cover, which is one of the biggest honors and you’re so excited. Aside from this being a big time shoot, you and your boyfriend are also announcing your first pregnancy to the world. You’re excited and nervous while Mat cannot stop talking about it. You’re happy that he’s excited and that he’s doing this cover with you.

“Come here, baby. Let me warm you up,” he wraps his arms around you, his large hands resting on the expanse of your back. He quickly makes all of your goosebumps disappear as if they were never there.

“I’m really nervous. This is going to be big news. Everyone is going to freak out,” you pout at him.

Gently, you cup his cheeks and squish them together. It earns your boyfriend’s famous cackle and it makes your heart melt.

“It’s exciting. I think I might’ve been a model in my past life,” he says and sways you in his arms. He fidgets with the seam of your robe, immediately alerting you that he has some nerves.

“I mean if all else fails, you have modeling to fall back on,” you roll your eyes as you tease him. You hope that it’ll wash away his hidden nerves.

“Haha,” he shakes his head with sass and it makes you giggle.

“Y/n and Mat, we’re ready for you,” an assistant informs you.

“Ready Mr. super model?” You ask, carding your fingers through his already tousled hair.

“So ready!” He guides you to the setup, eyes glued on you as you peel off your robe.

It’s the one thing he doesn’t like about today. The inspiration behind this photo shoot is being comfortable in your own skin and embracing the simplicity of being bare with someone you’re comfortable with. Mat doesn’t have a problem with it at all, he’s confident with his body and you’re confident with your body. The problem is that everyone who’s behind the scenes will see your breasts. Your breasts that have grown with being pregnant, and that are for his eyes only. Mat usually wouldn’t mind because it’s your job and he’d never tell you what to do or not to do with your body. For him, it’s mainly about the people gawking at you with no shame. It makes his skin crawl with jealousy.

“Pose 1, guys.”

You and Mat both stand, your chest pressed into his bare one while he rests his hands on your hips. You stare into his eyes while the cameras flash around you, partially thankful that this first round will only focus on your bodies. He mouths a silent “I love you” and you slightly lean up to kiss him.

“I love you,” you whisper into his lips.

Mat can’t help but take in your soft features and the way your eyes softly peer into his. He wishes he can caress your cheeks the way he usually would when you flash him a loving expression.

You smile at the way his hands flex over your hips. You know him well enough to know that he’d put his hands on your cheeks if he could.

Soft moments like these make it seem like everything around you disappears. The cameras aren’t on you or your baby daddy and it’s just you two in the room.

It sadly doesn’t last long.

“Pose 2!”

Mat moves to sit on the floor with one leg propped up. You straddle his lap and hold onto the sides of his torso. His hands go to your ass, giving you a hearty squeeze that makes you giggle.

“Sorry, I had to. Your ass looks too good in these jeans,” Mat muses, eyebrows lifting in a casual cool sense.

A red, hot flush fills your cheeks adding to your already glowing skin. You love the way Mat always gives you attention. It’s like he was born to compliment and love you.

He’s so sexy.

“Okay, this angle isn’t working so we need to see your side profiles. Mat, we need you to smolder and Y/n, do your open mouth pout with your head tilted back. You’re going to have your breasts right under his chin,” the photographer guides you.

Mat feels his chest tighten when he realizes everyone will get a good look at your boobs. He has a hard time not making eye contact with those who stare at you like they’ve never seen a pair of boobs in their entire lives. Even the bright flash can’t distract him. At least your thumb swiping at the skin of his torso helps him relax.

“Great! Y/n, you look amazing,” one of the assistants says, making Mat snarl at him. It’s almost like he isn’t even there, posing in the same picture.

“Okay! Next pose.”

Mat moves to fully face the camera while you move to his side, hugging his arm and blocking your nudity from the camera. As you do so, Mat watches the eyes of many men who can’t seem to look away. As you were adjusting your pose, your breasts were out in the open and those guys took it as the perfect opportunity to stare.

He lets out a silent huff which gathers your attention.

“What’s wrong?” You ask after a picture is taken.

“These men keep staring at you like you’re something to eat and it doesn’t sit right with me,” he explains, trying not to let his facial features show his jealousy. It doesn’t work, though. His face is set in a frown and his lips are pouty.

You kiss his jaw and nudge your nose into his skin.

“I love you, baby, but they’re just making sure we’re all doing what we’re supposed to do,” you reason with him.

You’re used to being exposed around many people and sometimes their eyes tend to wander for longer than usual, but it’s never bothered you. You can understand your boyfriend, though. He’s not used to everyone seeing you.

“Well, they don’t need to be staring at you,” he grunts.

You turn his face towards yours and slant your lips over his. Something about him being jealous turns you on. It shows just how much he craves you, despite being pregnant and it’s an ego boost.

“You’re so hot,” you whisper, eyes darkening with lust.

Quickly his mood flips and he’s matching your smirk with one of his own.

“One more before break!” You’re both snapped out of your lustrous haze.

For this photo, it’s just you. You lay out on the floor with your hair fanning out around your head. You cover your breasts with your hands just so the main focus can be your growing bump.

The main photographer lets her apprentice take a few shots. He’s standing above you, getting a bird’s eye view while Mat seethes in the back.

“Damn, you’re one lucky guy. The rack on her is insane,” Mat hears to his side.

His blood boils and the veins in his neck start to pop out. Does that guy know who he’s talking to?

“Excuse you?” Mat says finally turning to see who was audacious enough to utter those words.

“You’re one lucky man. I bet you hit that every night. I know I would,” the other guy groans, eyes locked in on you.

“Who the fuck do you think you are? Have some fucking respect and take your eyes off my wife,” Mat growls, stepping closer to the jerk.

He’s done with these guys thinking they can just stare at what’s his. There’s also no way in hell Mat would ever let a man talk so crudely about another woman, let alone his girl.

“Dude chill!”

“I’m not your ‘dude.’ You need to keep your fucking mouth shut,” Mat almost roars and everyone stops what they’re doing.

You hurriedly pull on your robe and make your way to the scene.

“Are you okay?” You ask your man, hands coming to rest on his heaving chest. His skin is hot under your palms. His eyes hold even more fire.

“Everything’s fine because he will be leaving,” Mat claims, not asking permission for this guy to be thrown out.

“No way!” The guy yells.

“Can we get this guy out of here, he’s causing unnecessary issues,” you ask a higher up.

Everyone moves in a haste to get the guy off set and make sure everything is all good.

“Everyone take 30!”

You cup Mat’s cheeks and stare into his eyes.

“Are you sure you’re fine?”

“I am now,” he whispers, pulling you into a chaste kiss that isn’t enough for you.

He moves you to a secluded corner, crowding you into the wall with his muscled frame. Mat inhales a deep breath and looks around at your surroundings. Even though you’re both hidden, people can still be heard and partially seen.

Allowing his emotions to drive his actions, he pulls your lips to his by the back of your neck. Your hands eagerly hold onto his firm body. His tongue thrusts into your mouth, dominating yours as one of your legs comes up to wrap over his hips. You try to grind against him as you feel the wanton need for friction take over.

“Are you wet?” He asks against the shell of your ear, his lip dragging down the side of your face.

“Yes,” you respond, nodding your head just in case he doesn’t hear you.

“It’s all for you,” you state, pulling him into another kiss.

“Damn right. You’re my girl and you’re carrying my baby,” your boyfriend claims, a hand rubbing your small bump.

“Fuck me, Maty,” you whine and pull him impossibly closer to you. You don’t care if there is people around or if he fucks you into the wall. You just want his cock inside of you.

“Come with me,” he says, pulling you back to the most recent setup.

It’s a king size bed made up with cream colored bedding. It’s displayed for the next round of photos, but Mat would never have sex with you in an uncomfortable position- especially while you’re pregnant. So for now, the bed is yours and he’s about to take you on it.

You pull him into another kiss as he lays you down, your legs coming to wrap around his waist. Your boyfriend sits up on his knees, his hands reaching out to pull off your jeans and robe. You lay bare in front of him, feeling warmth cascade over you. He pulls down his own pants and underwear, leaning over you to caress your body with his lips.

“Who do you belong to?” He questions, lips right next to your ear and his fingers collecting your wetness.

“You,” you whine and rut your hips up into his hand, desperate to feel him fill you up.

“Who?” He teases, fisting himself before guiding his tip to your entrance.

“You,” you gasp as he slides into with an ease that’s only possible with being pregnant. When you get wet, you get wet.

“Oh my god,” you moan, hands gripping the sheets underneath you. The feeling of him sliding into you takes you to another planet.

“Look at you dripping for me,” he grunts, hands on your hips as he starts to fasten his pace.

He’s hard and heavy, snug between your wet walls. The thick head of his cock nudges deep inside of you, making you clench down on him.

“It’s all for you,” you moan and rut your hips up into his movements.

He cups your bouncing breasts, eliciting a squeal due to the sensitivity. Your arousal drips down his shaft, drawing Mat’s attention to where he’s splitting you open. Your pussy sucks him in and pulls away every shred of sanity he has left.

“Your pussy is mine,” he moans, pushing your legs as far into your chest as possible. He pounds into you, a thick finger coming down to circle your clit.

“All yours, baby,” you whine.

“You take my cock so well baby,” he praises you, words sweet but cocky.

His eyes are molten and you can feel the heat wash over you as he stares at you.

Whimpers and the squelching of wet skin hitting wet skin echo off the walls. You flutter around him, your greedy hands reach out to wherever you can reach. Your blunt nails dig into his skin, leaving angry red lines behind.

“I’m cumming,” you scream as you release around him.

Your entire body tenses up before the brunt of your orgasm crashes into you. Your body arches off the bed and full body chills work their way on your body.

“You’re so sexy carrying my baby. You enjoy being pumped with my cum, don’t you? I’m going to keep fucking you until you’re dripping with my cum,” he heaves out through his labored breathing.

His hips snap into yours and you can feel him pulse inside of you. Thick ropes of cum paint your walls as he stills his movements and then he pulls out to spurt the rest on your mound. His abdomen twitches, his own orgasm crashing into him with a heavy force. Sweat drips down his pretty face and his curls stick to his forehead.

As he catches his breath, he watches his release spill out of your spent hole. It’s a sight he’ll never get over, especially how you flutter around nothing because you miss the feeling of being full.

“I love you,” you sigh, finally coming back down.

He rubs his cock against your pussy, making sure to collect every single drop of cum. Soon he’s fucking his cum back into you and you feel another knot form in your tummy.

“I love you, baby. Your fucking pussy was made for me,” he responds, eyes closed and head tossed back.

His hips slowly rock into you and before you know it, your walls are collapsing on him again. You tremble as you welcome the surge of electricity to hurdle through your body.

“Just like that, baby. I love you,” he whispers against your lips. He continues to slowly thrust into you, hips moving like honey.

You softly push at him before you can feel the effects of your overstimulated muscles.

He carefully rolls off of you, but pulls you back into his side. He caresses your body with gentle hands- a stark contrast to the roughness he just displayed.

“Are you okay?” He kisses your temple, moving your sweaty hair away from your face.

“Perfect,” you reply as you kiss on his neck.

You rub at his torso and watch how he reacts to your touch. There’s nothing more appealing than your man becoming weak at the tips of your fingers. It makes your core tighten and drip with arousal, or it could just be his release pooling out of you again.

“You’re so sexy, baby,” he rasps, mouth coming down to catch one of your nipples.

You lean into his affection, blood pumping with fervor all over again. Being pregnant has made you incredibly insatiable and with Mat being incredibly beautiful, you cannot get enough of him.

“We have like 5 minutes left,” you inform him.

He cocks an eyebrow up and smirks at you. He quickly moves down your body, spreading you open, and eats your pussy like the starved man he is.

5 minutes later, no one questions your unkempt hair or the content grins you both wear.

a/n: Sorry this has taken so long😭 I hope you all enjoy this!!

[raccoonsface]

A Drabble..?

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Somebody on my other account @raccoonface said they wanted to see more of this Drabble I did like a couple months ago so here…. I TRIED MY BEST OKAY!

1.5k+ Words

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Y/ns Pov

I'm getting ready for a photoshoot for Vogue. Ever since I was little I always dreamt about how it looks like behind the camera at a photoshoot and now I can finally see it.

I'm deciding on wearing something casual or something fancy, I chose casual of course because I would look stupid as a photographer looking fancy.

I head to my car to drive to the photoshoot place which isn't too far from the apartment I'm staying at it's only about a half an hour drive there.

The place has a grey tone for the outside I can see while I park my vehicle heading to the front door, and knocking a couple of times, nobody answered so I turned around to go on my phone to check if I'm in the wrong place.

When I do I hear the door open so I spin my heel and-

-CLASH-

... I now have a milkshake all over me

"Oh my god.. I am so sorry!"

I looked down at me worried about the stain the. I looked up and I saw the prettiest girl I've ever seen in my entire life and she was trying to clean up the mess on my shirt then she looked up at me with a confused face

"Oh- sorry uhm it's really no big deal I can go find another shirt" Find another shirt wow dumbass nice talking

"I'm so sorry I wasn't looking where I was going then I dropped a milkshake on you let me pay you back for the shirt."

I was in awe staring at her but I realized she was handing me money and I couldn't let a pretty girl pay for my shirt

"Oh no please take your money back I don't need it this was only like fifteen bucks I'll be fine"

"Are you sure..? It looks really messed up plus you just got here and you're gonna have to spend the rest of the day in a drenched shirt"

"Oh yeah I'll be fine I'll just go use the washing machine"

Now she probably thinks you're a weirdo because there aren't any washing machines in the building

"Okay... well I'm gonna go now"

She points to the garage

"Ok..."

She started to walk away but then I realized that she never told me her name

"Wait!"

"Yeah?!"

"I never got your name!"

"It's Jenna! What's yours?!"

"Y/n!"

"Nice to meet you Y/n!"

She laughed after she said that and I'm pretty sure I had just heard an angel and I realized how stupid I was for not replying to her

"Oh..um Nice to meet you too Jenna!"

I heard her laugh again and it was the most angelic sound I had ever heard. I couldn't get enough of it. I had no doubt it would be replaying in my mind.

———————————————————————

Switch of POV

You walked into the set area for the photo shoot, and everyone was looking at you weirdly because of the stain on your shirt but you just shrug it off and go to your area.

You’re busy playing with the camera for the photo shoot when Enrique, the stylist for the actress you’re photo shooting, walks in and holds out a shirt for you to take.

“Jenna told me she spilt her milkshake on your shirt, so here,” he says handing you the shirt, it was a white button up.

“Oh, um thank you,” you say while awkwardly taking the shirt from his hands, and getting up from your spot.

“I-…I’m gonna go switch my shirt then come back.. but uhm let me know when..?” You say not knowing who you’re photo shooting for,

“..Jenna, you’re taking photos of Jenna,” He says a little surprised you didn’t know Jenna was the one you’re photo shooting

“Oh… huh,” you say remembering that she was the one who spilt the milkshake all over you,

“Yeah, well uhm I guess just let me know when she’s ready after I change this shirt,” you point to your shirt while mentioning it speaking to Enrique

“Yeah I can do that,” Enrique responds as you grab the shirt from where you were sitting and run off to the bathroom to change it,

After you close and lock the bathroom door, you turn around and take off your shirt, examining the stain before picking up the new shirt and unbuttoning it to put it on

“Jeez, this shirt has a lot of buttons,” you murmur to yourself before putting it on and buttoning it up a little more than halfway, being stylish.. or whatever

You look in the mirror touching your look up before deciding it’s fine, so you turn around and leave the bathroom, going towards the camera again.

You sit down and grab the camera turning it back on and play with the settings,

“Hey!” Someone says to you, you look up and see Jenna in an incredible outfit,

“Hi,” you respond softly looking back down at the camera and playing with it some more

“Looks like you got the new shirt,” she says looking down at your outfit

“Oh- uhm yeah, thanks for that,” you say genuinely

“Thanks for the shirt? Or for spilling a milkshake all over the other one?” She says sarcastically, you widen your eyes realizing how bad your words sounded

“Oh-uh I didn’t mean it like that I just wanted to thank-“ You rapidly try to recover from the mistake you made

“It’s fine,” Jenna calmly says, putting a hand on your shoulder, “I am ready to shoot some photos though,” you nod in response to her statement

“Alright, can you stand in front of that white background for me? I need to finish some adjustments for the camera, and I kinda need you to be here for that,” you ramble slightly, telling her way more than she needs to hear

She nods and walks over to the white background, “oh uhm you can sit on the stool if you’d like to, I don’t want you to stand for too long,”

she sits down on the chair, looking directly into the camera lens as you finish the adjustments on the camera.

“Alrighty, we can start now,” you say as you look around to the modeling agent, Jenna’s modeling agent, as she comes up and whispers something into Jenna’s ear and Jenna nods

Jenna starts posing and you start clicking the camera, without the light on because that’s just annoying, She poses for what seems like hours to her then you guys finally finish.

“Okay! We’re all done,” you say putting the camera down, and clasping your hands together.

You pick up the camera once more and look over the hundred photos you’ve taken as Jenna comes over to check out the photos

“Look,” you say showing Jenna the photo of her, “wow,” she says admiring the skills of the newly taken photograph.

“You’re an amazing photographer,” she says making you blush, “oh uh thanks, you’re a great model, and you’re an amazing actress,”

“Thanks,” Jenna responds before sitting down next to you, “anyways.. what got you into photography?” Jenna asks curiously

“Oh that’s an unexpected question,” She laughs at your shocked state, “uhm I guess it’s kinda always been something I loved,” you answer

“I’ve always had a drive for photography, capturing the beauty of a moment in a single click,” you add on, Jenna’s looking at you in awe

“That’s beautiful..” Jenna says “thank you,” you respond “I should really get going,” Jenna says while getting up

“Oh alright, I guess I’ll see you at some other point in time..?” I say looking at Jenna, “depends on how good those photos of yours turn out,” Jenna responds

You chuckle at her response, getting up yourself. You put the camera in your bag, and put it on.

“I have one last question,” Jenna says to you curiously “yeah?” You ask encouraging her to ask it

“Could I get your number?” Jenna asks, for a moment it’s like time is frozen for you, but then you remember that you have to answer her, “oh uhm yeah of course,”

Jenna gives you her phone, unlocked. “Alright, there it is,” you say as you finish putting the number in and giving it to her, “yeah, thank you,” she says to you

“No problem, any time,” you say shrugging your shoulders, “I actually have to go now though.. so bye, I’ll text you,” Jenna says before racing off

“Yeah that would be nice,” You basically say to yourself as she leaves the room. “Holy shit! Jenna just asked me for my number,” you say realizing the reality of the moment.

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Bonus:

“AGGHGHFGGGGGGGGH!!” You scream fangirling over Jenna

You hear your phone ding

Unknown contact

Hey, it’s Jenna.

…

“…” you stay silent for a moment

“AGHGGHGGGGGUHGHFFUHHGHGHGHGH GOGHGHGHGHGGHHHGGAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!” You scream even louder,

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I really feel like I’m becoming a more frequent writer *knock on wood*… let’s hope I didn’t just jinx myself

Hope you’re ha(d,v)/(e)/ing a nice day

So confusing ^

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[iboatedhere]

could I please get "heart shaped sunglasses" as a prompt? I love canon but if there's an AU that speaks to you I'd love that too

I went with a photographer/model AU.

—

Alex didn’t grow up thinking he wanted to be a photographer.

He cycled through dreams that almost every kid has—doctor, teacher, President of the United States, and astronaut. For a few weeks, when he was four, he thought seriously about becoming a T-rex.

When he was thirteen, he found an old camera in the attic that his father had left behind when he moved out.

He watched a half-dozen YouTube videos to figure out how to get it to work, then took a photography class in high school and got a position on the school paper, taking shots of football games and events around town.

He thought he looked cool, carrying around a vintage camera that used real film in the age of sleek digital devices and camera phones, and he was good at it. He received heaps of praise from his photography teacher, won awards in local contests, and even sold a few prints at farmer’s markets and craft fairs around Austin.

Alex majored in studio art in college, focusing on photography and media. He learned about color, composition, and lighting. He studied Ansel Adams, Dorthea Lange, Steve McCurry, and Robert Capa. He thought about becoming a war correspondent, embedding himself in the most volatile parts of the globe and reporting the truth through photographs—gritty, raw, and dangerous.

Where he ended up was someplace much softer.

–

Alex first saw Henry Fox on the glossy pages of one of June’s fashion magazines when he was twelve.

Vogue or Harper’s Bazaar. Maybe Cosmopolitan. He can’t remember. What he can remember is Henry Fox’s wide, blue eyes and golden hair. He remembers looking at the close-up photo of him for too long until June cleared her throat and met his startled gaze with raised brows.

He looked for Henry after that. Sneaking into June’s room or stealing the magazine straight from the mailbox when it was delivered. He’d bring it with him to the treehouse in the backyard and search.

Before Alex even had a word for it, most of the photos had felt exploitative. Henry, too young, around much older models. Odd poses and barely there clothing. Henry never looked happy. He never smiled. Alex would never photograph him like that. He never really thought about photographing him at all. Mostly, he just wanted to hang out with him. Maybe take him swimming at Barton Springs, to a baseball game in Round Rock, or ride their bikes together. He just wanted to make Henry smile.

Alex found out later that Henry’s father was a famous actor and his mother was a supermodel, making Henry one of the world’s biggest nepo-babies.

Maybe doors automatically opened for Henry. Maybe he has a trust fund or an inheritance and never has to work another day in his life. Alex is unsure of those things, but he is certain Henry is the most beautiful thing he has ever seen.

–

Alex lowers his camera as the art director flutters into the frame, tugging on the strap of Emily’s bikini top and sweeping Henry’s hair off his forehead.

“Perfect,” she says before waving in Alex’s direction. “Okay. Keep going.”

Alex rolls his eyes and lines up another shot.

He doesn't really know what the point of this shoot is. He guesses it’s supposed to be playful…a fun day by the pool where Henry has stolen her heart-shaped sunglasses and perched them on the top of his head while she’s taken his diamond-studded watch and is holding it against her throat like a necklace. But Emily’s bikini is practically see-through, Henry is wearing a pair of swim trunks that hide nothing, and Alex doesn’t understand what they’re trying to sell, aside from their bodies.

So goes the fashion industry.

“Did you get it?” Henry calls out to him without moving a muscle.

Alex blinks through the viewfinder. “What?”

“Did you get the shot?” He asks.

“Oh. Yeah. Probably.”

“Good,” Henry says, “my foot is beginning to cramp.”

He shifts, and Emily hops off his lap and into a robe a PA is holding while Henry stands up, stretches the arch of his foot, and accepts his own robe.

It’s all so fast and formal as if they didn’t just spend the last hour dry-humping each other by a pool at a mansion in Beverly Hills.

Alex isn’t sure if he could pull that off, being that close to either of them and acting like it’s no big deal. Things are easier behind the lens of a camera.

Alex busies himself by pulling the photos up on his laptop. He took nearly two hundred. At least one has to be good enough to go to print.

“May I see?”

Alex nods, and Henry steps into his space, pressing their shoulders together before Alex can make room.

“Christ,” Henry says as he peers at the screen. “Am I really that pale?”

“We can fix it in post?”

Henry hums. “Add it to the list,” he jokes, but it’s not funny at all.

Alex knows that no one is perfect, but he thinks the people he photographs—Henry especially—are about as close to the idea of it as possible. That won’t stop every photo he’s in from being scrutinized and edited to death. They’ll airbrush out the moles that dot across his ribs, the small half-moon scar by his left hip, and the line between his brows. Whatever they do to Henry, it’ll be ten times worse for Emily.

“You’re very good at this,” Henry tells him. It’s not the first time they’ve worked together, but it’s the first time Henry has complimented him.

“Thanks. You make it easy. I mean you guys—you two—you and Emily,” Alex flounders. “You look good.”

“Is it the sunglasses?” Henry asks as he reaches up and touches the thin, pink frames.

“Yes,” Alex answers. “They complete the look. Maybe they’ll let you keep them since they suit you so well.”

“I’ll be sure to ask,” Henry says, the barest hint of a smile on his face.

—

Unsurprisingly, it was June that helped him shape his view of fashion.

When he was younger, he’d point to the avant-garde looks in her magazines and genuinely ask who the hell would ever wear this?

“No one,” She’d tell him as she snatched the magazine away. “Sometimes clothes aren’t meant to be worn, they’re meant to be admired. It’s like how some people go to the Louvre to see the Mona Lisa. Other people find their art in fashion magazines.”

He reminds himself of that each time he attends Fashion Week in London, Milan, or Paris. It’s an art exhibit; the models are living sculptures.

In the front row of the Dior show at Bryant Park, Alex thinks Henry makes a stunning canvas.

His hair is dyed dark brown, a near match to the cropped leather jacket he’s wearing, only half zipped, his chest bare. Alex watches his long legs in oversized wool shorts as they walk down the runway, where he stops at the end, poses, and then continues back. He looks down at Alex as he passes, tips his head up, and disappears backstage.

Only after he’s gone does Alex realize he didn’t get a single photo of him.

–

They let me keep the glasses, by the way.

Alex frowns down at his phone as he tries to parse out the Instagram DM that popped up on the screen.

He has two accounts—an official photography account and a smaller, more personal one, followed only by his family and friends. Alex knows he isn’t famous, not yet anyway, but he knows that people can get weirdly parasocial, and he’d rather not have to purge his main account a few years down the line.

This message, from a GEJames97, was sent to his personal account.

????? Alex sends back.

The ones from the shoot, the next message reads.

This is Henry.

Fox.

Alex’s frown deepens. Henry has an Instagram account. He has nearly four million followers and posts photos of his most recent campaigns at least twice a week. Not that Alex is keeping track.

Prove it, Alex says.

A few moments later, a photo of Henry Fox in the pink, heart-shaped glasses pops up.

Pez told me about this account. I hope that’s okay.

Pez…..???????

Percy Okonjo.

Percy Okonjo is an up-and-coming designer who is best friends with Henry. They have the entire fashion world buzzing with speculation that Henry will start working with Percy the second his contract with Dior ends.

Percy also was a guest editor for Vogue and had an undefined thing with June. Alex doesn’t know the details, and he’ll never ask for them, but it was enough that Percy followed Alex’s personal account.

How long are you in New York? Henry asks, and Alex feels his heart rate kick up.

Why do you think I’m still in New York?

Henry sends him a photo Alex posted earlier of a friendly Central Park squirrel eating a small piece of bagel out of his hand.

Until Sunday, Alex tells him. Why?

Doing anything tonight?

Alex blows out a breath.

Not yet.

Alex has only been at the bar for three minutes before Henry shows up. Alex appreciates the promptness, it gives him less time to be nervous.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Henry says anyway, leaning in to press a kiss to Alex’s cheek that leaves Alex feeling untethered. “Traffic in Manhattan is insane.”

“It’s fine,” Alex says, “you’re good. You’re…” Alex trails off because Henry is beautiful in jeans, a t-shirt (that probably cost more than Alex’s hotel room bill), and a Yankees cap pulled low over his face.

“If you want to go someplace else–,” Alex starts.

“Why would I want to go someplace else?” Henry interrupts, raising his hand to wave down the bartender.

“I don’t know. I feel like this place isn’t your usual vibe.”

It’s not a dive by any means, but it’s certainly not the flashy restaurants and clubs Henry usually attends.

“A few months ago, Pez brought me to this place in Chinatown. We followed this woman down a narrow stairwell for what felt like forever, light flickering and water dripping from the ceiling. I would’ve phoned my sister to say goodbye, but I didn’t have cell service. If I can survive that, I can survive this.” He glances around the bar. “I don’t fear for my life at all here.”

“You’re in America,” Alex tells him. “You should kinda always be fearing for your life.”

Henry snorts. “I suppose that’s true, but I am enjoying myself.”

“You just got here.”

Henry shrugs. “Then maybe it’s the company.”

Alex ducks his head. “How long are you in the city for?”

“At least another two weeks,” Henry tells him. “I’ll have a good bit of downtime, but not enough to fly home between shoots. I’m trying to figure out ways to keep myself busy. Do you have any ideas?”

Alex has about a million. He’s been thinking about this since he was twelve years old.

“Have you ever actually been to a Yankees game?” Alex asks, and Henry shakes his head. “They’re in town if you wanna go.”

Henry smiles, big and bright, even in the murky lighting of the bar, and Alex feels like he’s suddenly accomplished everything he could ever want in life.