#hotel night audit

[personinthepalace]

imagine being woken up at a hotel bc someone (edward bluemel) was shouting latin in the middle of the night haha

from an interview with CinemaBlend

[theinnovatorsinsights]

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In the fast-paced world of hospitality, efficiency is the cornerstone of success. INNRLY’s cloud-based platform offers a brand-neutral, user-friendly interface that consolidates critical business data across all your properties. Whether you manage a single boutique hotel or a portfolio of properties spanning different regions, INNRLY provides an all-in-one solution for optimizing performance and boosting productivity.

One Dashboard for All Your Properties:

Say goodbye to fragmented data and manual processes. INNRLY enables you to monitor your entire portfolio from a single dashboard, providing instant access to key metrics like revenue, occupancy, labor costs, and guest satisfaction. With this unified view, hotel managers can make informed decisions in real time.

Customizable and Scalable Solutions:

No two hospitality businesses are alike, and INNRLY understands that. Its customizable features adapt to your unique needs, whether you're running a small chain or managing an extensive enterprise. INNRLY grows with your business, ensuring that your operations remain efficient and effective.

Seamless Integration for Effortless Operations:

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Automated Night Audits:

Tired of labor-intensive night audits? INNRLY’s Night Audit+ automates this crucial process, providing detailed reports that are automatically synced with your accounting software. It identifies issues such as declined credit cards or high balances, ensuring no problem goes unnoticed.

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INNRLY simplifies decision-making by surfacing actionable insights through its robust reporting and analytics tools.

Comprehensive Reporting:

Access reports on your schedule, from detailed night audit summaries to trial balances and franchise billing reconciliations. Consolidated data across multiple properties allows for easy performance comparisons and trend analysis.

Benchmarking for Success:

Compare your properties' performance against industry standards or other hotels in your portfolio. Metrics such as ADR (Average Daily Rate), RevPAR (Revenue Per Available Room), and occupancy rates are presented in an easy-to-understand format, empowering you to identify strengths and areas for improvement.

Guest Satisfaction Insights:

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Key Benefits of INNRLY

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Transforming Hospitality Without Transition

INNRLY’s philosophy is simple: transformation without transition. You don’t need to replace or upgrade your existing systems to benefit from INNRLY. The software integrates effortlessly into your current setup, allowing you to focus on what matters most—delivering exceptional guest experiences and achieving your business goals.

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Hotel Owners:

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General Managers:

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Accounting Teams:

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Phone: 833-311-0777

[alarming-prism]

reaching the point of unemployment where i'm frothing at the mouth over a minimum wage front desk job like please hire me pretty please please PLEASE i will do so good please give me money i will let people yell at me for money 👉👈 maybe management can yell at me too 🥺 pretty please hire me

[livingfictionsystem]

It really blows my mind how many people think their day job is real life.

Just saw a post from a night auditor (someone who literally is kind of paid to do like two hours worth of work in an eight hour period and then just sit and chill the rest of the time) who was like "I had a warning pop up when I tried to play Solitaire, is that new?"

And SO MANY COMMENTS were like "Um Sir That Is A Work Computer Why Are You Playing Games On Company Time"

BECAUSE WE WORK MORE THAN SERFS DID IN THE MEDIEVAL AGE, KAREN.

C h r i s t.

Do you really think this person in question is ignoring a whole line of guests at 3am?

I can't believe how many people are obsessed with policing people's downtime, appearance, and what their body can tolerate because they're chasing the controlling high they had when they peaked in high school.

-Xhaxhollari

[malakai-why]

Why do only the dumbest people come to check in on night audit

[merlexxdixon]

{{Going to try and be on tonight so if you all don't mind sending random things to my ask to get back into the groove with this man? I know I have drafts and things but... sort of just need to get back slowly before I look at those.

...Merle has been so loud these days and I just need to write him or I'm going to leave him on a roof somewhere myself.}}

[jupiitersreturn]

Where You Could Meet Your Future Spouse -Matrix of Destiny

Look At The Number That The Red Arrow Is Pointing To!

6 - Clubs, Courses, Trainings, Social Networking Events, School, Crowded Places or Places That A Lot Of People Frequent, Cozy Places (Cafes, Restaurants, Bars), Mundane or "Normal" Places

21 - Traveling, Hotels, Universities, Business Meetings, Conferences, Any Means of Travel (Car, Bus, Plane, Walking, etc.)

7 - When You Are At Work, When You Are In The Midst Of Completing A Goal, When You Are In A Position Of Authority, Travel, New Places, First Time Being Somewhere, First Day

16 - Dangerous Environments/Situations, Protests, During Storms, In High Buildings (Sky Scrapers), Emergency Situations

10 - When You Are Making "Changes" ( i.e Changing Jobs, Appearance, Houses, etc.) Starting a New Opportunity, At A Casino, When You Are In The Right Place At The Right Time (It Could Feel Like Fate)

18 - At A Waterside Location, Unfamiliar Territory, Subconsciously or In A Dream, On A Blind Date, In A Way That You’ve Never Experienced Before (for example if you’ve never tried online dating before you could spontaneously decide to try one time and it could he the time that you meet this person)

4 - When Structure and Stability are Being Established (For Example Making A Major Purchase Like A Home or A Car, Moving, Changing Jobs For Better Pay, etc.)

17 - At an Art Class , When You Are Renewing Something, Yoga or Meditation Class, At An Inspirational or Revolutionary Event or Lecture, At A Convention or Conference (Specifically One That Is Tech Based)

19 - Places that are Warm (Cali, Miami, Texas, Africa, Jamaica, Bahamas, The Carribean, etc.) Concert, Beach, Around Kids, Places With Bright Lights, Places Where You Are Celebrating Your Success, Parties, Award Shows

11 - Places related to beauty, Places where you are meant to "show off", Courthouses, Places of Law, Banks (During Settlement Issues), Debates, Peaceful Protests and Riots,

22 - A Stroke of Fate or Destiny (Like Being In The Wrong Place At The Right Time), After Something is Complete (A Project, Schooling, etc.), Abroad, After Moving To A New Area

9 - When You Are Alone, When You Are In A Period Of Introspection, At Places One Goes For Spiritual Enlightenment, Churches, Temples, Etc.

3 - Through The Mother, Places of Creativity, Female Dominated Fields, At A Daycare or Elementary School, At A Home

15 - Sex or Night Club, Rehab Facility, AA Meeting, Jail or Detainment Facility, A Dispensary, Outreach Facility

5 - Traditionally or Organically, Through Mutual Friends, Being Introduced To Them, At College, At A Place Where One Gains Knowledge Or Is Gifted With Advice, In A Place Where One Must Conform Or Fit In

14 - Rural Areas, In The Country Side, At A Mountain or Hilltop, At A Solo Retreat, Near A Body of Water

8 - Somewhere Where You Feel Strong Or Where You Are Participating In Something That You Would Consider Your Strong Suit, Places Where You Are In Control, Places Where You Must Exercise Control

12 - When You Are At Rest or Pause (At A Red Light, Crossroads, etc) After A Break Up, After You Have Surrendered From A Negative Situation, After You Have Made A Sacrifice, When You Relinquish Control

13 - After A Big Change In Your Life Or After A Phase Has Ended, After The End of A Relationship, After You Have Moved On From Something, After A Death

20 - Jury Duty, Or At A Courthouse, At A Place Where You Or Someone Else Is Being Judged (An Interview, Audition, Crime Scene, etc.)

[tteokdoroki]

ೀ⋆OCT 31ST LEGALLY BLONDE ━━ seishiro nagi + coercion !

୨୧ — caution, you are now watching. seishiro nagi + coercion. there’s no way someone broke up with nagi because he’s too blonde!? poor baby, maybe you could provide a little emotional support…(5.5K)

୨୧ — rated r. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, heavy smut, dark content, characters aged up to 20s, college!au, strangers to lovers (?), teaching assistant/student relationship, dom/sub dynamics, some switching, reader is lifted up by nagi, coercion, dubcon, handjobs, virginity loss, cherry chasing, oral fixation, mind break, praise kink, creampies, soft sex, clothed sex, unprotected sex, TA!reader, elle woods!nagi.

୨୧ — director’s note. happy halloween my loves! i hope you enjoy the final kinktober fic! its been super fun writing and editing for you all. stay tuned for the bonus in the coming weeks <3 - m.list ⋆ kinktober m.list ⋆ taglist ✧

this law school thing wasn’t all what it cracked up to be. 

after the love of his life, reo mikage, had broken up with him for someone smarter, blander and richer than him — nagi had been blessed with the genius idea of following his ex all the way to one of the top law schools in the world. the plan was practically fool proof, the guys at his sorority worked hard to help seishiro study — pulling all nighters for practice tests and rewarding him with naps every time he had gotten a question right. 

rin itoshi had even convinced his parents to reach out to a hollywood director so that they could film nagi’s audition tape. it obviously featured isagi and bachira too. nagi had even worn his best designer swim trunks to impress the board of admissions. they’d all been super supportive of the light haired male in his endeavours and were there when he passed his LSAT exam

with all of this combined, he had managed to get in in — if that wasn’t enough for reo, then what was?

the answer? nothing.

reo still wanted that bland, basic bitch his family was marrying him off to. she was sensible, she was rich and seishiro quickly realised that he had only ever been a bit of ditzy fun to reo — a dumb blonde to stick his dick into whenever the time felt right. eye candy and nothing more. balancing his shattering hard with the complexities of law school had been tough for the white haired male and everything seemed to be going wrong. no one would study with him, reo wouldn’t even look at him and his friends back home were busy with the wedding plans nagi so desperately wished he had. 

however, that’s when you came along. 

after having the epiphany that he didn’t need reo to succeed — nagi knuckles down and studied hard for the law firm internship being offered amongst his cohort. he was relieved to have you as a teaching assistant in the process, not only were you absolutely gorgeous but you were compassionate and empathetic. you were smart, eloquent and everything seishiro wished he could be for his ex.

perhaps that’s what drew him to you, why he followed your every word like a puppy drooling after a treat. you’d been kind to nagi for the entire semester, from helping him out with studying for the internship right down to today, where he would be taking on his very first case in a court of law. it should have been easy, the facts were simple too. the client and fellow fraternity brother  (shidou ryousei) was accused of and arrested for the murder of his wife… but something about the events weren’t seeming to add up. nagi couldn’t come up with an alibi either. 

it was as if the words; the reasonings, the justification for shidou’s freedom were right in front of grey-scale eyes, only scrambled up like morse code. “how about we take a break?” as if you were a vision from his dreams or an angel from up above, you appear behind nagi’s tall frame as he slumps defeatedly against the hotel room desk — your hands fixing themselves to his broad shoulders for a massage. “you’ve been at this all night, seishiro.”

the law student swears your touch could heal all human ailments, the warmth of your palms seeping into the tense parts of his muscles like a cell performing diffusion — relaxation forming a comfortable fog over his brain. “i know shidou didn’t do it,” nagi defends with a grumpy pout, leaning back into you so that his head rests lazily against your stomach. “he told me… he said he was getting liposuction.” 

“we’ll need evidence of that,” you note, jerking your head to the side so that nagi can write it down. this entire time you’d been such a good mentor. “good boy.” something clicks in the light-haired male’s brain, a crackle of electricity shooting down his spine at your praise — swirling around in his guts as if to activate arousal.  “run me through the witness statements again.” there’s a sensual lilt to the tone of your voice and your touch cascades from his shoulders up to his neck like a backwards flowing waterfall.

seishiro isn’t sure if he’s making things up or reading the signs correctly — but he knows that there’s some kind of tension bubbling in the air. particles that resemble an aphrodisiac using kinetic energy to collide together, painting the room with lustful colours. “shidou’s step daughter says she heard a gunshot around 2:15pm after leaving the shower, walkin’ downstairs only to find shidou hangin’ over his wife’s body — covered in blood. ugh, this is too much hassle. this doesn’t make any sense!” he tosses an annoyed sigh into quietness of the room, moaning in surprise when you cup the base of nagi’s neck to pull his head up to face you and your eyes meet.

“you need a break seishiro, we can come back to this later,” you hum, the vibrations of your voice laced with sex appeal. as he swallows thickly, the law student’s Adam’s apple bobs under the pressure of your fairy-light grip on his throat — anticipating more from you. at this point, you’re half bent over him as he leans back in the chair, pink tongue slowly darting out to cover your lips in a spit shine. “how about it?” 

this feels so wrong. nagi’s cock stirring beneath his slacks at how good and kind you’re acting towards him. no one has ever gotten him this hot before — no one aside from reo. and you were still his teacher, by technicality, it would be wrong for nagi to even consider sucking your tongue down his throat. and yet, he can’t find it in himself to stop the temperature from rising between you, for falling into your dangerously salacious trap. 

“y-yeah,” he breathes deep when you squeeze his throat a little to test the waters. “i could do with a break.” 

“me too,” you gasp all too agreeably, bending the rest of the way down to capture seishiro’s lips in a searingly hot kiss. just as he wished you pry his mouth open with the tip of your curious tongue — pushing through his plush lips and curling around his own pink appendage. the lip lock is passionate, ravenous despite the mess and spit that you exchange. he chases your lips until he can’t breathe, sloppily accepting anything you give him, letting you lead where he can’t. 

he’s never done this before, not like this, not without reo. but in this moment, the silver-blonde doesn’t think he could ever go back to making out with his ex. not now that you’re the one kissing him. 

“i-i've never done any of this before.” the blonde gulps, swallowing down the copious amount of spit that builds on the palette of his tongue — looking into your eyes as a sense of hunger dawns on him, as if you’re the very meal he’s set to devour. “not without anyone that wasn’t—“

reo. 

sure they’d done stuff together. naughty touches here and there, hands ghosting over boxer briefs and fingers tweaking nipples (sei’s were especially sensitive because of the cute little piercings his ex insisted he get) — but nothing close to actual sex, nothing with a girl, nothing with someone like you. a burning heat, unlike anything nagi’s ever felt before, begins to brew in his lower stomach. his cock rises beneath his pants that suddenly feel all too tight.

nagi’s girth twitches against his thigh as your nails rake their way down his chest and slowly pop open the buttons of his crisply pressed white shirt. it heaves beneath his clothes — heart hammering against its calcium cage of his ribs. 

“i can tell, pretty boy.” you soothe him by purring into the shell of his ear, teeth tugging at the softness of his lobe. “but you’re a good kisser though. did reo teach you that?” your lips cascade down to his neck like a gentle flowing river at the same time that your hands delve below the belt to squeeze at seishiro’s swelling erection — testing the waters. 

his hips instinctively buck up into the warmth of your palm and a grin spreads across your plush lips at the feeling of his precum soaking his underwater and smearing across your fingers in thick, clingy webs. 

white and seedy and he’s nowhere close to cumming. almost like a little virgin. 

“have you ever done this before, seishiro?” 

the sound of his name, salaciously spelt out on his tongue, earns you a high pitched whine from nagi — his head rolling to the side and his thighs squeezing together with vicious need. “n-no,” he pauses before he grunts out a response and his entire body seizes as you take a firmer grip on his cock — jamming a thumb into his leaky slit to spread his arousal. “but i wanted to i just… reo said not until marriage—“

“— you don’t have to listen to reo anymore.” you announce breathily, setting a steady pace to your fist to jerk him off with. you’ve barely started and yet your hand is already glossed in a slight sheen of pre, soiling your knuckles from its viscousness. it’s so much for someone who’s never gone father than sloppy kisses and grinding while making out. it nurtures a certain seed of satisfaction in your chest to see him so messy so fast. “you can listen to me, sweet boy. do you want this… do you want it with me?” 

without letting go of the fat, drippy cock within your grasp — you shift to stand between the desk and nagi’s chair, shoving papers and court notes to the ground in your lustful haze. nagi thrusts lazily into your closed fist as if it’s instinct, following the sensation like a moth takes to a candle light. his grey eyes grow murky like a pond, swimming with desire for you and only you.

who was reo mikage to seishiro nagi? when there was an angel like you willing to feed this inexperienced man morsels of a heavenly pleasure he’s never felt before. the lawyer in training nods at your words like an eager man fallen to siren’s song as bait. “i want you,” he whimpers airily. “i wanna with you.” 

you rub down his thick, lengthy dick far enough to have your fingertips briefly brush against seishiro’s sensitive, weightly balls — just pulsing full of seed to give to you. the feeling makes nagi jump up from his seat so that he immediately towers over you. his height doesn’t overwhelm you, not when the towering blonde collapses onto you with a case of the shakes. he trembles above you, supporting himself by using one hand on the table while is mouth sloppily finds your neck to suck on and pacify himself.

“good boy, sei,” you coo, voice as sweet as hot sugar or candy. “i want you too. i always have. you’re such a pure, darling boy. glad to see that it’s true.” your praise is hidden in your soft moans as seishiro licks at the crystalline salt on your bare skin. you’re a little too twisted, taking advantage of his inexperience and his position beneath you as a student, but neither of you seem to care in this very moment. 

sweat beads against nagi’s hairline like diamonds on an expensive Chanel necklace and roses bloom across his cheeks with exertion — his hips rise and fall into your sticky fist in fluid motions, changing the steady stream of ecstasy you provide him. your hand is a solace for his aching cock, but you still make your student work for it. make nagi chase you since he only works hard for the things he wants. and right now, he wants to reach the end of the tight rope of pleasure you have him walking on. and to stave off the stormy frustration he feels from the case.

your hand wriggles it’s way into his wet silver locks, dragging nagi’s hungry mouth over yours since he’s so desperate to taste you, to have at you. it shows in the way he roughly grabs your hips too, grip so tight it threatens to leave bruises he’ll have to apologise for later. “ngh… please. g-god. miss…a-angel please,” he stutters, his bucking into your hand faster and harder, back and forth, back and forth through the tight ring of your fist. his bright and angry red cockhead peeks through the other side, glazed in opaque white — it’s a nice feeling, blistering hot and sensitive. “i…hah… gotta—“

nagi’s lashes flutter against your cheek — a strained whine reverbing in the base of his throat while you let him fuck your hands to his heart’s content, let him chase this new pleasure he’s never known. let him fall from the high heavens with blackened and burnt angel’s wings. you make him sin, for the first time ever. something about this should feel off to nagi, his law teacher taking advantage of him like this — but at this point, he’s too far gone, drowning in a hellfire of lust. 

mocking his moans, your mouth falls open in one of your own as you follow along with the pitiful expressions crossing the contours of seishirou’s face. “what is it, sei? what do you need?”

the room is too hot. your bodies against each other are temperate in the sex tainted air — accompanied by wet slapping sounds from your hand around his throbbing cock. “n-need to let go. it h-hurts,” he sniffles out, forcing his tongue into your mouth again to calm himself down. the more you speed up, remorselessly jerking him off, the closer nagi gets to the end of his own tether. this sensation is unfamiliar, the crumbling foundation of his orgasm coming crashing down as you fling droplets of his precum and arousal about the place — some of it landing on your clothes, the desk and discarded papers. 

again, neither of you care. 

“surrender to me baby, it’s okay. i’ve got you.” guiding the pale blonde through his first ever orgasm, you pour your heated words into his slobbering mouth — tongue running over his pearly white teeth and tangling with his drool coated tongue. that’s all sei needs to hear before he crumples against you with a shout — the first wave of his high crashing over him and pulling him under. 

it’s world shattering, brain melting as he cums. his abdomen contracts under your never-ending touch, ropes of hot white dribbling from his stimulated tip like a tap that keeps running. nagi swears he almost blacks out, falling dizzy and victim to your lustful charms as he twitches and cums and cums into your soiled palm. 

“f-fuck,” a soft whimper bubbles up on his raw bitten lips, stuttered out in suprise. “w-what was that?” 

“you orgasmed for me, sei, so pretty baby.” comes another set of your gentle praises. he feels his entire body wrack with a shakes at your words, his cock doesn’t dare to soften either. “you look so good when you cum.” 

his greyish-brownish eyes roll back into his skull when you let him go, his tip slapping against his clothed tummy. the brush of his cotton shirt against the slit on his tip makes him writhe from the sensitivity. “c-can i cum for you again? promise i’ll keep being good.” 

“of course,” you grin, proud that to have corrupted the poor boy. “are you okay to let me touch you again or do you want it now?” 

“touch me. now.” he growls, gripping your hand and guiding it towards his dribbling shaft, aiding the movement of your palm around him to start slow and lazy — working seishiro up into a heat once more. this time, the way your hand languidly jerks him off is made smooth by the evidence of his last orgasm, which you now use as lube. if you weren’t pressed for time and with a court case first thing tomorrow, you would have gotten onto your knees to clean up his copious amounts of mess. 

you quickly reduce him to a babbling mess against you, drool laden on his tongue and dripping onto his skin as you drive your thumb over nagi’s hot tip in tight circles with your free hand — touching what doesn’t fit in the other. “reo treated you so badly, poor baby,” you mewl sweetly, kitten licking at his pulse point just below his neck. “you work so hard, you deserve so much better. you deserve me.” 

he believes you, blindly and naively. nodding tenderly despite the way he widely fucks both of your hands as if they’re a makeshift hole — warm and slick, all for him. dopamine shocks him at the stem of his brain, spreading throughout his body like a wildfire only you can tame — it burns so good and  feels even better to have your dainty, perfectly manicured fingers wrap around his chubby girth so deliciously.

for a moment, you let seishiro go to squeeze at his heavy breeder’s balls — noticing the way they pulsate in your palm to signify the pale blonde’s second impending orgasm. “i think…hah… i think ‘m gonna… c-cum! again!”

pushing at his shirt, you press a kiss to the creamy skin of nagi’s shoulder and hum pridefully. “thank you for letting me know, sweetheart. cum for me. give it to me.”

with your permission granted, another blinding ecstasy takes over nagi, and he falls victim to you and your merciless hands once again. blood rushes through his ears like a storm surge, drowning at your angel coos while you guide him through his high, never letting up as you palm him through it all. he quivers and his knees buckle, shooting a hot and hefty load of seed all over your hand and clothes and the papers nearby.  “o-oh! fuck…” nagi chokes on a weak sob, bleating like an innocent lamb at the slaughter house while he weighed against your shorter frame — allowing you to bare the brunt of his weight and height. 

he’s so pretty when he cums, silvering blonde locks matted to his forehead by sweat — cheeks pink and lips swollen and red. if you could, you’d swallow him whole and selfishly devour your student for all that he has to offer. silly little blonde, stupid for trusting you, for wanting to fuck you.

your hand doesn’t slow around his pulsing cock but instead speeds up, digging your thumb into his oozing slit as arousal pearls at its centre once more. “n-no, s’too much.” seishiro cries quietly, tears stinging a pathway down the apples of his milky cheeks. “it hurts.” 

“poor you, poor baby.” you say harshly, mocking the poor blonde’s sniffles and hiccups. he’s exhausted and frustrated but doesn’t dare to pull away — his hips running after your hand hungrily. “you’re so cute sei, panting for me like a bitch in heat, fucking my hand like the dumb little blonde you are.” he hisses at the overstimulation, gargles on spit as it floods his mouth to accompany his appetite for you. 

“i’m not…ngh… ‘m not dumb.” he whinges in response and before either of you know it, seishiro is cumming again. hard. soiling his lap with abundant amounts of white. his chest heaves as he comes down, collapsing against you. he might deny it later, but being dumbed down and reduced to a stupid blonde seemed to really do it for him. 

finding his lips again, you soothe nagi with short and sweet kisses that grow more feverish by his own demand. all of a sudden you find yourself pinned to the desk below with the tall blonde between your instinctually parted legs so that he can grind against your panty clad core. “you’re…you’re right,” you say, breathing deep through your nose as your composure threatens to fall apart. “you’re so smart, sei. you’re the best lawyer on our team but…” bucking your hips once, you lower your voice by an octave so that your words slip through his ears like molten chocolate. “you’re acting like a dumb slut right now. don’t you wanna be my dumb slut, sei?”

his palm flattens against the mahogany desk just above your head, caging you in against its cold surface. “y-yes i do, oh fuck. please lemme fuck you. lemme be inside. i’ll be good.” 

“are you sure, baby?” 

“please—“ 

“but sei,” you brush a stray hair that curls at the centre of his forehead, the dumb blonde looking down at you with swimming grey eyes because he’s so needy. “it’d be your first time…” 

his face scrunches, nose crinkled at its bridge and brows knitted together in frustration. now that nagi’s had a taste of your sinful elixir he can’t seem to stop, you’re like a drug an addict can’t quit. something that could ruin his life or future prospects if he doesn’t get help. and yet he can’t look away, can’t pull his body away from yours and his achy dick from between your thighs — instead leaning closer so that it sinks between your plush pussy lips. 

nagi licks his lips, tongue rolling over his bottom one as he pants desperately. “please angel,” comes his broken beg, hanging pathetically in the sex tainted hair. “i need you. need it so bad. please please please— mph—!”

satisfied with his begging, you shove a set of cum soaked digits past the swell of seishiro’s pretty lips — chuckling darkly as his tongue laps over and in between them, and he whines at the salty taste of his arousal on your skin. “atta boy,” you coo, thrusting deep into the hot cavern of his mouth until the pale blonde gags around you, swallowing your fingers down like they’re a cock. he sucks so obediently, so desperately as if to please. like a good student too — and all the while, you work on kicking off your panties and flipping up your skirt so that he can get a nice rewarding view of your glistening cunt. 

“c’mere,” you reach out to the blonde and he leans into you, letting you wrap an arm around his shoulders to keep him in place. “sei,” you gasp at the first contact of his thick, long shaft against your throbbing wet mound — mouth agape as if you’ve taken a gunshot wound to the chest. “do you know how to do this, smart boy? do you know how to fuck?”

nagi nods, pressing his forehead to yours while his hips jut forward on their own and his seedy tip brushes against your pearling clit so deliciously. at first, his movements are lax and the room is filled with the lewd squelches of your sexes moving over one another, but your breathing soon grows ragged and the salacious bump and grind becomes stickier and wetter. 

“u-uhuh.” he mumbles in response.

he’s so good for you even when his mouth is full and his mind is dazed, sucking on your fingers while he lets you overwhelm him. however, the blonde is only so well behaved and patient, and it’s not long before he slips his girth past the tight ring of your entrance without any warning. his fingertips dance up to your waist, grabbing at the fat there and using it as leverage to drag you to the edge of the table so he can sink into you further.

“oh…fucking hell!” you whimper wetly against the junction of nagi’s neck, nails digging into his shoulders to steady yourself while he sets the pace to your sinful dance. he’s bigger than what you expected (despite mapping his girth out with your hands), stretching your sloppy walls wide to accommodate for his size. you don’t complain, however, eyes rolling as he brushes up against pleasure spots you could never reach on your own. “o-oh baby, fuck me.” 

you pull your fingers out of his mouth with a lewd pop, desperate to hear the symphony of his sweet, low and sexy moans instead of having them muffled by your fingers while he fucks you for the first time. the pale blonde can hardly believe it — having your warmth wrapped around him and your cunt drool down on him like a waterfall. 

the law student throws his weight into fucking you, bullying his way into the deepest parts of your womb to slothfully fuck up your gooey insides. your cunt, your moans, your whole body has some kind of control over nagi — dumbing him down and reducing him to a sex crazed mess. to the point where he can’t even remember his ex’s name. he’s a mop of pale blonde hair and sweaty clothes, entirely hunched over you. 

“y-you’re so tight,” he tells you in a dreamy sigh, lost in the heat of your core. nagi’s grabs at your pudgy thighs and drags you back and forth onto his dick, the new deepness to his thrusts causing you to squeeze and froth around the fat base of nagi’s cock. “hah, feels so…so good.” 

wrapping your shaky legs around his slender waist, you offer up the same treatment to nagi — pulling him close to the point where he’s buried in your sluice sex right up to the hilt. his precum smears against your ribbed walls and his broken whimper echoes around your hotel room. “that’s it, fuck me like you fucked my hand, sweet boy.” lust sparks against your sex slicked bodies, your breasts bouncing with every one of nagi’s calculated yet sloppy thrusts. you can’t get enough of one another, clinging and clawing at one another’s bodies madly. “you can do it, prove to reo that you don’t need him. only me.” 

“o-only you.” nagi repeats weakly, tucking his face into your neck as he pounds you to the high heavens. the desk creaks beneath the force of his thrusts, threatening to break at the nails and bolts that hold it together. his eyelashes flutter against your skin, his low and deep moans mixed with high pitched gasps send a hot rush of dopamine across your brain and it really is all too much. 

nagi’s already cum three times and managed to fold you in half over his desk as a virgin. he feel as though he might break with how much he loves this, loves fucking you senseless. another fresh set of tears burn tracks down his face and gather in his unfairly long lashes as they tickle your skin. he hiccups and heaves against you, whilst his breathing grows ragged every time his glistening cock escapes the snugness of your tight pussy, precum stringing along your puffy folds. 

“so good baby, s-so fucking good!” your voice is broken and husky as you praise him, making his dick pulse against your g-spot over and over again. you’re fairing no better than he is, your skin blistering hot to the touch and bruised from how tight your student is gripping you — pulling you back onto his cock.

the pale blonde feels though he might burst, cream your insides like he did your hand and ruin that pretty skirt of yours — the one that sticks to his pelvis because of how close your bodies are. it’s rubbed him raw while he fucks you raw. “‘m i the best?” seishiro asks, cherishing the embrace of your viscous walls, his shaft coated in a crude mix of white as it froths from your tight little hole. “t-tell me i’m the best…” 

“t-the best i’ve ever had! f-fuck, sei!” you squeal in response, only egging the law student on, babbling your praises while fat droplets of your arousal flies about the place — painting nagi’s pelvis in a shiny gloss, curling in his white happy trail as well. 

“‘m the best. i’m the best for you.” grunting from the exertion and the very force of his own thrusts, seishiro wraps both of his strong arms around your middle and stands up from the table — taking you with him. at the new angle, the coil in your stomach only tightens and you fling your arms around his neck to prepare yourself for what’s to come next. “s’not enough, not deep enough. fuuuck you’re so wet and warm. i-i can’t,” he drawls lowly, nipping at the shell of your ear on instinct. 

that’s when seishiro begins to use his sheer strength to lift and drop you back onto his thick girth, fucking up into you at the exact same time. “g-good god!” you cry out, your impending orgasm prickling at your pelvis — shooting down each section of your spine. all of it only serves to spur nagi on. 

“give me your fingers,” he demands huskily, cantering into you from bellow — your juices running a steamy track down his heavy balls as they harshly smack against your peachy ass. “wan’ suck on ‘em. give ‘em.”

you don’t have time to register his ask because he grabs your wrist before your mind can even catch up (too occupied with the way he’s churning up your guts) and has two of your fingers in his eager little mouth — sucking on them diligently. you shudder as nagi runs his tongue between them, coats them in spit and drool that tracks across his chin once he’s done with them. 

“touch yourself for me?” he pleads through a wet whine, almost too innocently. “wanna see you cum this time.” 

it’s only then that you realise he’s been holding himself back, staving off his orgasm so he can see you writhe and gush all for him. the overstimulation must be burning at his brain, sizzling off his nerve endings and it’s probably more than the dumb little blonde virgin can take. so you do as he asks, trailing your spit slicked fingers between your bodies as they grind down on one another and you with your sensitive clit, pulling its hood back to draw tight circles over the pleasure nub. 

“o-oh! seishiro!” 

“that’s right, touch yourself f’me. wanna see you lose it like you make me lose it,” he moans softly constraining with how rough nagi pounds up into you. one of his hands slips from your hips to grope at your ass, pushing you down on him and forcing his cock to grind against that one special spot threatening to make you break. “‘m sorry,” he whimpers as though he’s going to cry. “d-don’t think i can hold back, angel.” 

“then don’t,” you gasp at the new friction, holding onto your last strings of sanity as you fumble with your clit tucked away between your ravaged folds. “i know you wanna cum for me, sei. l-let go, yeah? wanna see you break for me, like a good blonde slut.” 

your encouragement doesn’t give seishiro much choice, and while he’s in control of your bodies — his lean, strong frame anchoring you down onto his cock as it bullies your insides, you are in control of his mind. you destroy his train of thought, ruin the self-made man he was and send him tumbling into his final high. nagi’s orgasm breaks the surface viciously, pouring another load of his cum against your ripe and rippling walls. there’s still so much of it, the warm and viscous white seeping from your cunt and smearing all over your hot mound. 

the force of nagi’s high is so strong that he nearly drops you, just about managing to pin you safely to the desk once more. he’s still cumming and cumming and cumming — but that doesn’t stop him from thrusting into you hard and fast, desperate to trigger your orgasm so he can reward himself. it doesn’t take long, he’d already had you seated on the edge before his mind had shattered to pieces just from fucking you. 

you gush down his length and all over what remains of your shitty case notes (he probably didn’t need them anyways) with a pornographic shout when you finally hit your peak. it’s like the crescendo of a beautiful song — the world around you spinning and flashing white as you squirt and gush for the white haired lawyer. 

“f-fuck.” you giggle with a soft smile, fatigue washing over the both of you come down from the gates of heaven — crashing back down to earth with ecstasy still buzzing in your veins. “good boy, sei. you did so good for me,” you hum softly. “do you feel any better?” 

seishiro looks up at you from where his heavy frame has collapsed on your chest — clothes sweaty and askew, and offers you a lazy grin in return. “better,” he mumbles meekly and kisses a slither of your exposed skin, still grinding his seed into you as if to make sure it sticks. “thank you.” 

bringing a hand up to toy with his hair and soothing him, you nod. “good, we should get some rest, you’ve got a big trial tomorrow, pretty boy.” 

“do you think I can do it?” 

“i know you can, sei.” you scratch at his scalp. “i meant it. what i said earlier. you’re the best lawyer on our team. shidou’s defence stands a pretty good chance.” 

nagi grins once more, only this time he leans up to press a chaste kiss to your unexpecting mouth — pouring all of his gratefulness into it. 

because thanks to you, he feels more confident about the trial, — almost as if he’s won the trial already. and even if nagi goes lose, at least he’s won you over.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[ajortga]

love at first glance

pairing: tara carpenter x bass guitarist!fem reader

word count: 5.5k+

summary: in which tara admires your bass skills, then admires you even more.

author's note: please bear with me, i don't know what i'm doing but i'm just hoping these scrambled words just go well. tv girl mentioned!

-

based off request!

tara carpenter x masc! fem reader and reader is in a band, maybe like lead guitarist or bass? but like tara goes to a concert with all of the core 4 (+anika cuz i miss her) and like is mesmerized by reader. maybe they make eye contact during a song or sum? they leave the concert and tara is still thinking about reader and reader is still thinking about tara. cut to like later maybe at a party or a bar and they bump into each other and chop it up, but reader is like awkward-ish?

-

You’ve always had a love for anything that was related to music. Your parents made you take singing lessons ever since you were little. 

At first, you hated it. Singing Mary Had a Little Lamb in different keys was not entertaining. But as you grew older and probably didn’t need to sing that song every practice, you began to use your house’s grand piano that was left untouched for years. And then, being able to sing and knowing your keys inside and out wasn’t so bad after all. 

You spent countless times in the living room, the echo of your voice lingering against your house as you learned your favorite songs.

You wrote songs and composed as you experimented with your voice and the keys. It was almost never surprising when your parents caught you up late at night under your pillow, pencil scratching notes across lined pieces of paper. In every single talent show, audition, or musical, your name would be signed. Everyone in your family knew that one day, you’d grow to be a musician. 

People would even begin to see you whenever they were at warehouses and you’d be playing a piano. At every gathering, your relatives would ask, “Where is that little Y/N?” And your parents would look at each other with a knowing glance, both saying confidently, “Probably in the living room with that damn piano.”

You loved listening to music, making music, playing music, feeling your emotions in music, god, every time you’d go out, your earphones would be in your pockets.

So when you were gifted an acoustic guitar for your 12th birthday, to say the least, you were fucking thrilled. Instead of playing the piano 7 days a week, you’d play guitar for half those days. Gosh, was it hard learning a string instrument after playing piano for half your life? Maybe. But you loved it. 

You’d practice and practice, gradually getting better, then you’d play the electric and bass. And was the bass guitar a hell of a sound, you loved it. 

Then, the best thing ever happened to you. You had grouped up with your friends and quickly became a band with all your talents combined. Slowly but surely, did you begin to realize how far you had gone. Because in a blink of an eye, you were at concerts, fingers pressing down on your strings as it electrified through stadiums and arenas while people cheered. 

Cheered for you. That’s something you’ll never regret in your entire life.

-

You turn your bass’s machine head, plucking each string as you tune them before your concert. Nights like this never get old, you’d always be left with the adrenaline from every concert, like your body was refreshed when you slept under your hotel room’s covers.

As your hair and makeup stylist’s makeup brush dabs across your cheeks, you trace the outline of your bass guitar and look at yourself in the mirror. Layered hair, a black tank top over your toned arms, hidden beneath a red leather jacket. Your favorite part would probably be your nails painted red to compliment your hands. You had to keep them short though.

What would this night bring you? Everytime you close your eyes and listen, you can hear the faint echo of your bass vibrating through, lights swaying into the crowd, a smile forming on your face.

Every night had something different, there were different people, a different crowd, it makes you feel different every time. Yet you still feel the thrill and pride swell against your chest.

Junia, one of your closest friends that plays the drums, pops her head in. “You look hot,” she grins, “Jess said she’d come to pick us up at 40. You’re going to kill it, Bass.”

Bass. What an original nickname, you lean your chin into your palm as you raise your eyebrows, “You know it, June.” 

7:45.

-

Tara looks at herself in the mirror, Mindy and Chad screaming at each other while playing Jenga in the background. She pushes a stubborn strand of hair away from her eyelashes while she curls them. 

“CHEATER!-” Mindy yells, making the brunette flinch and breathe in frustration. She was not going to get her eyelashes pulled out.

After Tara was done with a cropped graphic tee, a jean skirt, and a cute little white bow in her hair, she walked through the hallway and into the living room, still adjusting her gold hoops.

There, Anika and her sister seemed the sanest out of them all. On the other hand, the twins were fighting over the remote. 

“Babies,” Sam mutters, pushing her dark brown hair back.

Anika pulls the remote out of both of their hands easily while Chad mutters ‘what the fuck’ under his breath. 

It was like being in a daycare. Tara ate a cookie while watching Anika throw the remote onto the sofa, wearing a lace tank top with jeans, “Mindss, why don’t we just leave the remote and find something else. Your hair is getting all poofy.” 

“And a little dingussy,” Chad adds.

Mindy smacks him, “Don’t ever use ‘dingussy’ to describe something. It sounds sexual.”

Before they could say furthermore, Tara jumps in, mentally begging them to shut up for a moment, “You have the keys, Sam?”

Sam pulls them out of the pocket in her jeans. 

Tara gives a small nod, looking a little over Sam, “Anika, tickets?”

“Yep, 5 of them,” she says, pulling out each ticket one by one with one hand and smoothing out Mindy’s hair with the other. When it was 5:30PM, they were all off, crawling into Sam’s car. Tara immediately sat in the passenger seat. 

I’m not sacrificing my hair by sitting in the middle seat, she thinks as she looks back at Anika, who was basically separating the two twins that were probably yelling in her ear at this point.

“You guys will love them. Jess has always been one of the most talented people I know in music. I have no doubt her band will be the best on stage.”

When Anika had first mentioned when she won a giveaway for a concert. It was for a barricade, but it was stated that they were allowed to be in the front row, the tickets she won had granted her that. Tara wasn’t very interested. Music just wasn’t something she always listened to on a daily basis. But there were 5, and no way would she miss out. 

So she listened to a song, played it on Spotify while walking to class. 

The scene shifts to a local coffee shop in Woodsboro.

“Let me tell you, the bass was fucking amazing! Brilliant!” Tara yaps excitedly to the four people in front of her. She loved how well the drums, electric, lyrics, and bass sounded. The bass blessed her ears. She had immediately added it to her favorites. 

“Bass, huh?” Anika smiles while drinking her coffee. “I think that’s one of the leads, Y/N. Jess always talks about how good she sounds, she usually comes up with all the riffs and lines.”

Y/N. It was unique, Tara made a note to remember it. Yet, she forgot about that conversation no less than 2 days after.

-

They all stepped out once they could see people lining up and buying the light up sticks that were controlled throughout the concert. Tara found it cool that the sticks had stars on them, in fact, the lights were one of the parts that made a concert a concert. 

Mindy was yelling happily and doing a little dance once their tickets got scanned and they all ran to the front row. 

Anika gave a cocky grin, “Maybe they’ll notice us because we’re in the front!”

It was thirty minutes until the background music came to a stop and the lights slowly started to dim. People were screaming, Tara’s heart was pounding against her chest. It was dead silent, whispers and occasional excited screams echoed.

“Oh my god, it’s happening,” Mindy whispers loudly, holding onto Anika as they look at the curtains.

They wait a moment, then two, and by the third one, drums begin to echo. ‘Tsst’ being echoed, before it follows with a loud 16th beat of drums. Then, the curtains open as Tara’s eyes widen.

Are you sick of me?

Would you like to be?

I'm trying to tell you something,

Something that I already said

The drums softly fill Tara’s ears, as she watches them play, she finally notices you. Perfect layered hair, messy in all the right ways. The bass girl. Something about the way the warmth of the light danced across your face in all the right ways captivated her. The way your deep red leather jacket hung over your shoulder, exposing your defined collar bones and toned arms while you pressed on strings.

Oh god, it felt as if a new story line with different love interests began to change for Tara. She could see the veins against your slim hands as they traveled across your guitar with ease. You mouthed the lyrics, enjoying yourself as you close your eyes and sway softly to the beat. 

You like a pretty boy,

With a pretty voice

Who is trying to sell you something,

Something that you already have

The drums left Tara’s thoughts, now hearing you and the way that your bass adds on to the magic of it all. You’re just standing there, your bangs swiping across your features as you tuck it to your sides, smiling to yourself as you scan the crowd for a moment then look back down to your strings.

Maybe it was the way you looked like you were the right person for this part–to be on stage like you were meant for it. Or maybe it was the way your gaze flickered to the front row and landed on Tara’s wide ones. She could see the way you tilted your head and gave her a curious, wondering look, before giving her a small smile. 

Oh my god, your smile was so cute. If she could describe it, it’s like the kind of smile that made her all giggly and was so contagious that she felt herself slowly smile.

The lights shine over your face, making everything about you glow. You pluck at the strings as you mouth the chorus to Tara. Her eyes searched all over your face. You don’t break eye contact with her.

But if you're too drunk to drive,

And the music is right

She might let you stay,

But just for the night

“And if she grabs for your hand, and drags you along,” Tara mouths back in time with the song.

One of your eyebrows raise as the light shines onto you once again, god, she can almost hear your soft, breathy voice teasingly singing, “She might want a kiss before the end of this song..”

Anika screams, jumping up and down and hyping everyone up, waving her heart stick in beat with the song. 

Because love can burn like a cigarette…

-

By the end of the concert, Tara was love struck. Very very love struck. It was late when her and the four of her friends walked out, the stars shining just a little brighter. She couldn’t get you out of her head. She might have grown gray hairs. How could you be more than any other celebrity crush?

She prayed to the universe that it would align you both together. Just like each star was in the night sky.

It’s bad, Loving Machine is playing and she can only think about you strumming your guitar.

Here she comes walking down the street,

Maddie Klein and her fabulous loving machine-

“Earth to Tara, hello?” Anika pauses the music, waving her hand into the girl’s face. It was almost like a record scratch moment as Tara blinked and looked around. “Oh, sorry, what?”

“Did you like the concert?” She asks, holding onto her star light up as the red light makes the glitter under her eyes sparkle. Anika was now in the middle, the car a little quieter since Chad was now in the passenger seat.

“Oh yeah, I loved it.” Tara answers, half of her attention slipping away. She starts to see you from a camera, lighting cast against your tan skin, a TV effect on you, making your movements jerky. 

The rest of the people are fading away, their voices, so loud and eager. Blah blah blah blah… Y/N.. Bassist. Love of her life.

Dreamy sigh.

Blah.. Blah.. “Yeah the bassist was hot.” Mindy’s voice suddenly being processed.

“What?” Tara immediately turns away from the window and looks at Mindy on the opposite side. Oh god, now she was going to have to fight for you? "No! Go find someone else to admire!” She grumbles, before immediately looking away.

The whole car shakes as they all laugh, playfully hitting Tara. “See? She was literally summoned, baby!” Anika giggles, talking to Mindy. “She wasn’t giving any shits when we were talking, and as soon as we talked about Senorita Y/N, she was like poof!”

Sam looks from the rearview mirror, an eyebrow raised, “Already? One concert that lasted two hours and she’s already wrapped you around her little finger?”

Little fingers, those veiny hands that played so smoothly across the-

Chad turns around excitedly, like a child peeking at surprise presents, “She was literally captivated the whole damn concert! You should’ve seen her, a love sick puppy!”

Her sister cackles, the car moving as she keeps snorting, “Gotta admit though, she’s fine wine.”

“Sam!” Tara rubs her cheeks, she seriously hoped she wasn’t going to have to battle till death for you.

“Chill!” Sam coaxes, putting one hand up in the air, “I would totally go for her if you weren’t interested. Didn’t think you had a thing for ‘Sam accepted’ girls.”

The freckled cheek girl couldn’t help but sigh, the thought of you still lingering in her mind. Like a twinkling little Melody who’s lyrics couldn’t get out of her mind, even when she slept.

-

It had been a week. Tara says that she doesn’t think of you too often, but every single time she hears your band’s song, you end up in her mind for the whole day. Every time she steps into a coffee shop, she wonders if you’d be the person to give a free concert. 

She wonders if you’re as sweet as your name sounds. She wonders if you’d hold doors for others or walk old ladies down the street. She wonders if your hand would fit hers. She wonders if you had even thought of her after the curtains closed.

She wonders if you smell good, if you’d smell like a musky, sweet, fruity vanilla-y scent with leather undertones. She sure hoped so.

To say the least, you’ve thought about the brunette just as much. You were having fun, strumming your guitar and feeling the beat radiate off your skin. Until you lay eyes on her. She had wide, brown doe eyes that made your knees buckle. 

She was heaven-sent. You could even make out her tan freckled cheeks. And you were almost in denial when she was looking at you. It was always who was singing that people looked at, heck, you did too. But you were looking at her. And she was looking at you.

Plenty of people might have looked at you, but she was different. Like she was mesmerized by how you played. Like she was a moth to your flame. 

In fact, you don’t know if anyone has ever looked at you with that much admiration.

The girl was so beautifully written, you wished you knew who she was. Instead, she was one out of 8 billion people out there, in a blink of an eye, a close of a curtain, she was off.

-

Tara looked at herself in the mirror, standing there like.. She didn’t even know, her serious eyes trailing down to what she was wearing, before turning to Anika slowly.

“Anika, I look like a hot dog.” She cries, looking at the way the costume swallowed her whole in the fitting room.

“That’s because you’re wearing a hot dog costume, Tar. But you look like a steaming hot hot dog!” Anika shakes her head, her head only visible since she was basically a whole mustard bottle. 

Mindy waddles through the living room, a red ketchup bottle, a red dangling earring complimenting her poofy hair. “Has anyone seen my earring? I can’t find it! It was in my purse and I thought if it looked good, I’d totally buy this.”

Chad walks in the girl’s fitting room, slightly peeking as Sam walks out of her dressing room, a serious expression on their face, a cookie and milk costume. 

Tara wants to laugh, but no way in hell was she going to wear this at a costume party, at least not at a serious one.

-

After actually taking it seriously, Tara decides on a pirate outfit, tying up her bandana. 

She can almost hear the music blasting from her apartment, which is filled with laughter and chatting from her ‘family.’

Her eyes skim over her board, looking for her calendar that was usually meant for school, roaming around the small photos of you and a heart drawn over your face. She traces over it, before getting ready to leave, not even looking at the calendar. 

Maybe the calendar was just an excuse.

After 5 songs and a half of your band’s music, the core five, including sweet Anika, open the door. A heavy scent of booze fills their senses, sweat, and a mix of perfumes all lingered. Not to mention, it was stuffy.

“Ugh, do they ever think about AC?” Sam grumbles, clearly not a party person as she gets whacked across the face from a toilet plumber that belonged to a person who was wearing a damn toilet costume. Mindy cackled, before tripping and almost crashing into them, luckily her girlfriend tugged her back.

They pushed against cowboy hats and random inflatable dinosaurs, across the dance floor, and to the drinks station.

Tara did not leave empty handed, her mouth gulping down the bubbly bitterness of alcohol. 

She was buzzed, a few drinks here and she was flushed and giggling, so she made sure to think about her intake. As she parted from the other four to find a trash can, scanning the groups of people. Sometimes she found people she knew at school, cute boys, just people she’s seen.

Tara took a different route back to her friends, the music growing louder in her ears when she got near the dance floor, slivering through bodies. It was almost inevitable that her nose would scrunch, too strong of a perfume, or just sweat.. It made her nauseous. 

Where was she going? She didn’t know, she stood on her tippy toes, her ruffled blouse crinkling as she searched for her friends.

Her face smacked right into someone, her hand automatically being placed on their chest. She opened her mouth, about to apologize and prepare for a scolding until her nose twitched. A fruity and sweet vanilla-y smell, and a light leathery contrast.. No?..

“Shoot,” you look down, your drink almost spilling on yourself as you look at the shorter person as you smooth out their hair. Did you ruin it? “I’m sorry, are you okay?”

Tara looks at her outfit, perfectly fine, no stains. Hearing your soft, breathy voice, it was unrecognizable to her at first.

“No, it’s totally fine, I wasn’t looking where I was going.” Tara says, immediately looking up and seeing your big curious eyes.

Oh my god.

Your eyes search hers, like you’re scanning her. Like you feel you’ve seen her before. No, you know you have. But where? The trace of her nose, doe eyes, oh! Tara almost puts a hand over her mouth because she can almost see the swirling sense of recognition in your eyes.

You opened your mouth to say something, maybe to ask about the concert, but you closed it. You don’t even know if she noticed you, maybe she was spacing out and was not acknowledging you during your concert a few weeks ago.

When it came to people, especially ones you crushed on, you were all stuttering words and pink cheeks.

The shorter girl sees the way you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, and she registers what you’re wearing as her eyes trail down. And fuck, you looked angellic. Seriously.

A halo over your head and wings enveloping your sides. A black corset and ruffled skirt that showed a little of your legs, which were covered with tights. God, she thinks she can see the muscles as you cross one leg over the other.

It immediately makes you think she’s judging you. This costume was not your cup of tea, but your friends invited you to match with them, all angels in different colors.

The little pirate instead gives you a genuine look, “I like your costume,” she says, focusing a little too much on your toned arms and slightly flushed cheeks.

“I um.. Thank you..?” You bite your tongue, not knowing her name. In what chance do you get to meet the girl that made you think soulmates were real once again? At least a 1 in 300 chance. 

“Tara,” she answers for you, pretending she didn’t already have your name embedded in the back of her head. 

“I’m Y/N,” you bite a smile, she probably didn’t recognize you. You take a small sip from your drink, nose scrunching at the taste.

“You’re good at the bass,” she says nonchalantly, and you almost choke on your drink. 

You didn’t think she’d recognize you, but now knowing that, you tilt your head. “Thank you. It comes from years of practice. What did you think?” You were genuinely curious.

“I think you’re just so good at the bass..” She mumbles, again, trailing off, before clearing her throat. “I mean, the bass always makes the songs so much better! You know? It’s like realizing how amazing something really is when you notice it-”

“I appreciate it,” you say, now aware of your surroundings because instead of where you two just bumped into each other, you were sitting at a table. You turn your head, looking at where you were, probably near the back. 

Tara took the opportunity to notice your damn jawline, so perfect and sleek and defined-

“I like your freckles,” you admit, voice breathy. You turn back to look at her while batting your eyelashes, Tara’s eyes trained on how your hands.. Veiny hands lifted the cup to your lips.

The compliment almost catches her off guard, because with all the compliments she might get, freckles were usually not on the list. It used to make her insecure, but the way you said it and looked said otherwise. The alcohol was definitely taking a toll on you, because you were staring at her with no shame whatsoever.

Wide, searching eyes, it looked as if you were trying to memorize every detail. 

The flutters in Tara’s stomach would’ve lasted longer. Except her eyes teared away from yours as she could see a very familiar ketchup and mustard costume and two other people behind them.

“Oh my god!” She groans quietly, covering her face as she scoots deeper into the booth.

She completely forgot that she slithered away from them, getting side tracked.

The brunette could die from embarrassment. You on the other hand.. Just prettily sitting there with a curious look on your face, the small warmth of the lamp casting a glow onto your face.

You bite your lip, trying to fight back a small giggle as you peek at the costumes that you can almost kind of guess who they are to Tara.

-

“SHE’S LOOKING THIS WAY!” Mindy hollers, tugging the mustard bottle next to her as Chad scribbles something on a piece of paper.

“Tara’s literally hiding from us.”

“Hold it up!”

-

They’re screaming at each other. You can’t hear it from all the music and party chatter, but you can definitely figure it out from their expressions. For a moment, they turn away from you, so you can’t see them.

You slip on a leather jacket that was in your bag.

A hiding Tara is in the corner of the booth, you raise your eyebrows at her.

It doesn’t take long before the four people across the room slowly turn to you in synchronization. 

“Um, I don’t-” You start, feeling a little awkward.

They hold up a paper, and you can’t even see what the words are saying. It’s at least the size of a penny. And from here, you can’t even make out the words.

-

“Dingus,” Mindy shouts to her twin, noticing the confused expression on your face as you try to understand what the paper is saying. She finally turns the paper around after holding it up. “It’s too small, that’s why!”

-

One of the four holds up a finger, signaling you to give them a moment as they adjust, before turning around.

‘Give her your numbar’ The sign says, you still don’t get it. Oh, number. You grab a tissue from the booth, and take out a sharpie from your pocket. Sharpies were always needed whenever you went out. To write down something on your hand, to sign autographs..

You slip the paper to Tara, giving her a small smile. She was definitely embarrassed. She didn’t even notice you slipping it to her, because after 5 seconds of you sliding it to her again, she still was clueless! The girl, instead, turned around to look out, immediately still seeing her stupid friends.

You sigh, putting the paper into your pocket. You feel a little bad for her.

Party lights fill the empty crevices of the room while you scoot out of the booth and stand up, pretending you didn’t notice the four people who were staring into the back of your skull.

“I think my friends are playing some Uno, you wanna come?” You offer, guiding her out of the booth as you look down at her.

“Sure.”

-

As the game went on, the last two players in the center still battling it out, Tara could see you were all fuzzy and flushed. 

You were definitely drunk. Too drunk to drive.

Your knees were nudged against hers, a little closer than expected, cuddled into her, but she didn’t mind. God no she definitely didn’t.

She was talking a lot, and you were always open ears and one of the best listeners. And then you would ramble and Tara would listen. It made you both feel heard and understood.

After a moment, you remember something. 

“Can I borrow your phone real quick? Uh, my phone is dead right now and I have to text a friend where I’m at.” You lie, your words slightly mushed together.

“Sure,” Tara says, unlocking her phone and handing it to you, a little drunk. You try to ignore the fact that the wallpaper is you from the concert she attended weeks ago.

You slip into the contacts, adding your contact and changing the name to; y/n, the bass guitarist ♡.

She didn’t even notice for the rest of the night.

As the sun slept at night, Tara stared at the ceiling, her vinyl spinning while a crackled “Say Yes to Heaven” reverberated around her bedroom.

She wished she could’ve stayed so much longer, but her friends had to leave, and there was no way she was taking an Uber or driving when tipsy.

Tara wanted to ask for your number, but because you never asked, maybe you didn’t because this didn’t mean as much as it did to her.

Curiosity was getting the best of her as she checked the messages on her phone, wondering how you typed like to your friends. But to her surprise, there were no messages to a number she didn’t recognize. The last number was just to Sam.

Her nose wrinkled, swiping to check the apps recently opened as she clicked the recent one. 

Dimples creased against her cheeks as she saw your name with a little heart. She immediately clicked to message you. But to her surprise, you had already done so.

 y/n, the bass guitarist ♡: whatcha doing? i hope ur not asleep yet>:(

tara ☆🧭: thankfully not yet, i’m in bed. u know, i was going to be a little sad than i’d like to admit if i didn’t get your number. 

 y/n, the bass guitarist ♡: i did hand you a paper, but you were hiding in the corner of the booth and i thought it would be easier this way

It took her a moment to think of what to say, before she thought of something she never thought she’d do late at night.

tara ☆🧭: do u wanna call? maybe just talk to each other till one of us falls asleep.

You usually weren't the person to connect over facetimes and calls, sometimes you didn't know what to say in the moment. You don't know..

She doesn’t get a response for a minute, before her phone vibrates in her hand and she swipes to answer.

Your hair was let down loose, in an oversized tee that even then she could still see your collarbones. You give a sleepy smile.

“Tara,” you say softly, and something in Tara thumps because you look so happy to see her. She grins back, shifting so she could see you better.

“I’ve never really done one of these,” your quiet voice says, a warmer tone casting over your face. “Do you want to say hi to Cinnamon? He’s my puppy.” You say, pushing your hair back.

The brunette nods, “Puppies are so cute, my sister isn’t very fond though. They sometimes make her sneeze.”

“Oh, allergies you could get a poodle breed or something, Cinnamon doesn’t shed much,” you agree, your camera slightly shaking as she can slightly hear you call your dog's name in a cute voice. “Come here, boy!”

Seconds later, you bring out your puppy, which lolls outs his tongue as you press a kiss to his head. Tara can see your red nails as you mess up his hair.

“Tell me about yourself,” Tara says, looking at you through the screen with pure curiosity.

“I-” You pause, thinking for a moment before shaking your head. “I think you should tell me about yourself first. It’s late and I want to listen to you. As much as I’d try to stay up, I’d fall asleep if you went second.” You murmur, cuddling with Cinnamon.

What you said made Tara feel something she doesn’t feel often. Appreciated? Well, she always wants to listen to others when calling, then she might go second, but when you brought up her going first? That made her feel fireworks.

“Okay, what do you want to know first?”

“What’s your favorite memory and why?”

-

As an hour, then two passes, you begin to tell Tara about yourself. She’s never felt so heard before. Both your lamps are off, now the only light from each others screens.

She can tell you’re beginning to doze off. The way you’re pausing and blinking sleepily before murmuring a little too softly. 

“What is something that you hate?”

You don’t say anything for a moment, your light breaths heard on the other end as you shift slightly and prop up your phone.

“Peppercorns..” You yawn, keeping your eyes half open. “They’re fine for seasoning, but when I bite into them, god.. It tastes so bad..”

You pause again, eyes heavy as you blink. “When you feel like you have to change for other people to like you. When you have to be someone you’re not because of people that don’t make you feel like you can be yourself.”

Tara nods, rubbing her eyes as she admires your defined features, even from the darkness. She could see the softness too. If she looked enough.

“I think those people make me feel the worst. Not wanting to be the one laughed at so you change to the one that’s laughing. Or when people talk down on the things you love. It hurts. And that’s something that I hope no one goes through.”

Wow, something about that makes her get to know the kind of person you are by a landslide.

“That’s a good response. What about your favorite fruit?”

“Mmm.. Watermelon. The sweet ones.. It’s so refreshing and…” You trail off, your eyes closing as your breathing evens out. Your lips were slightly parted, your puppy making a small whimper as he snuggles into you.

It’s silent, except for the faint white noise from Tara’s ceiling fan. You looked like a dream. Everything you talked about made Tara see nothing but good. And knowing that makes her feel like she should start seeing things the way you do.

A car passes by, the softest lyrics playing, it lulls Tara to bed.

We were listening to lovers rock

In her bedroom

You both fall asleep on call, maybe people were meant for each other.

[martinluvrr]

NUMBER ONE | KATE MARTIN ( III )

⋅˚₊‧ kate martin x actress!reader

⋅˚₊‧ summary: here we are again, just like the beginning.

⋅˚₊‧ part two || final part || nav

"Cut, thank you everybody" the director yelled out. You let out a sigh of relief, finally this dreadful week was over and you had some free time. After the chaotic start of the week that was caused by literally a media circus, you knew that this was going to be a tough 7 days.

Sometimes, you wished you didn't go to that audition. Of course you were grateful, this was a life people would kill for, but with the good side came the brutal one. After the picture and the allegations came out, your publicist went nuts, she wen even more nuts when you said to her "I don't want to respond". Apparently not responding, is responding, and while she tried many times to convince you, you didn't budge.

Deuxmoi. Fucking deuxmoi.

While you contemplated if you should send hate messages to the site with your finsta ( your publicist somehow found out and made you promise not to ), Kate was the calm during the storm.

The night of the game, she had texted you in regards of the plans, and you sadly rain checked. While you though she would stop texting after that, she didn't, and neither did you. Her name was still saved as 6 years ago, back then , you didn't have the strength to delete it, just in case.

While the comments, the sly remarks, the articles, the posts made the time draining, Kate was your fuel. She was literally recharging you, it seemed like you guys were back like you were once, but still you didn't want to get your hopes up.

"Bye darlin'" a british accent pulled you out of your thoughts, Emma, your co star smiled sweetly at you from your dressing room doorway. You smiled at her and said your goodbyes as well. While the media was raging, the cast and crew made the week peaceful for you, what was a week ago, a funny, teasing, loud cast turned into a supportive, calm, quiet one. And of course, you knew why. You have been shooting with this people for the past 2 years, and whether you liked it or not, they knew you. and when Matt saw your face on Tuesday, news and threats spread around if anyone asked anything regarding the incident. Y/n absolutely adored them.

As you walked out of the set studio, only two things were on your mind, your bed and chinese food. When opening the door, you looked up and went to a halt. There she stood, blonde, 5'11, in an all black fit an aces hoodie on, and her car behind her. In all her glory.

"What the hell are you doing here?" You asked, your mouth hanging open. She stood straight ,a wide grin forming on her.

"you owe me a date"

"you can't be serious" you let out a laugh.

"dead ass. get in" she gestured to her car, while opening the passenger door. You still remained in your previous positions, your body frozen,like it couldn't believe she was actually here.

"Kate"

"Y/n" she replied back " what's the problem?"

"Are you sure you want this...again?" you asked, suddenly looking at the ground, your insecurity was showing. You still didn't know if you and Kate were happening again, and you knew that if you lost her again, you couldn't survive that.

"Never been more sure in my life" She replied sweetly "Now get in"

"But i look like Adam Sandler" you said, an embarrasing smile on your face .

"I don't care, now please stop making excuses and get in the car" Kate said. You sighed as you made your way to her car, before placing a kiss on her cheek and getting in.

The way to your blind destination, that you begged Kate to tell you, but immune to your charm , she didn't give a single hint. Kates hand was placed on your thigh. After teasing you about your 'adam sandler' outfit, we finally arrived in a parking lot, of what looked likd, a closed casino/hotel.

As you made your way to the elevator, suddenly the air became tense. When you looked up at her, she was already looking back at you, you could feel your face heating up, a small smile appeared on her face, and a second later you mirrored her. Just as y/n and Kates faces were close, the elevator door opened and a bell was heard.

Just as you were about to question her about the empty hallway, you halted when you saw her open the rooftop door, stairs coming down, she took your hand and helped you climb. When you were both on the roof, you took a moment to admire the view, all of the las vegas was before you, it looked majestic.

"The view...so beautiful" you whispered, still in a daze of shock.

"yeah the most" She whispered back, when you glanced back at her, you realized she was talking about you. When you took a look behind her, you saw a chinese logo. chinese food.

"I'm in love" You moaned, taking a bite of the dumpling. You heard Kate let out a laugh, both of you were dangling your feet out in the corner of the rooftop. You felt like a teenager again. Her and you were back to talking about the past, it felt liked you guys were recapping, when the breakup came up, both became hesitant.

"Where did we go wrong?" You heard her question.

"We didn't go wrong, we just went our separate ways"

"I watched suits, when i heard"

"Really?"

"Yeah, watched the whole season, you were great, just like i knew you were"

Kate was always supportive of your dreams, not that everybody else wasn't, but Kate was the only one you admitted your dream to.

"You were also"

"What?" shock, surprised.

"I watched you" you shamelessly admitted

"You did? no way"

"Yes way, i'm your biggest fan" You said, taking a bite out of the noodles. Kate laughed when you accidentally spilled some, suddenly nothing was tense, it was back to normal.

When you both finished your food, you hinted that you should return home because of the 7am shoot you had in the morning, Kate insisted you guys stay for another 30 minutes. And it was definitely worth it, after 15 minutes, a firework erupted. and then another, and another after that, and then 10 after that, they didn't stop for another 10 minutes.

Just as you convinced yourself to not expect anything, and this was still new, she had set this up. When you looked up at Kate and looked down at her lips, one thing was on your mind, and you weren't holding back as you pulled Kate towards you and connected your lips to hers.

✩

As you opened your eyes, sunlight immediately made you close them back, as a groan escaped you and you stirred to get away, two hands locked on your waist held you back. Kate. When you straightened your back, you felt a kiss behind your neck. "Good morning" you heard her raspy voice say.

you didn't make it to your 7am shoot.

✩

thank you for reading pt 3 <3333333 tune in for pt 4 soon!!!!

[p0orbaby]

Sinners | Pride

summary: leah had a good game, you show her how proud of her you are

warnings: SMUT 18+, soft sex, too much talk of cabbages…

a/n: the final part of this silly little smutty series, hope you enjoyed !

word count: 1.4k

Lust | Gluttony | Envy | Sloth | Greed | Wrath

-

You’re barely through the hotel room door before Leah is tossing her keys on the dresser like they’ve personally offended her. It’s one of those tiny hotel rooms where you can practically wee while brushing your teeth, and somehow the décor manages to look both clinical and like someone’s grandmother’s living room at the same time. You’re trying to figure out how that’s possible when Leah lets out a dramatic sigh.

“Today was a day,” she says, flopping onto the bed like she’s auditioning for a life insurance advert.

“You were brilliant,” you say, but it comes out flat, like you’re just trying to move the conversation along so you can get to the part where you finally make her feel good. The truth is, she really was brilliant. Like, once-in-a-lifetime brilliant. But the moment feels too small for that much sincerity, so you settle for plopping down beside her and patting her thigh like she’s a good dog.

“Yeah, well,” she says, staring at the ceiling like it’s going to give her all the answers to life. “I’m exhausted”

You turn to look at her, trying to read her expression. She looks tired, sure, but also like she’s carrying the weight of the world on those very capable shoulders of hers. You think about saying something profound, but then you remember you’re you, and instead, you blurt out, “Did you know you talk in your sleep?”

She blinks, turning her head to look at you. “What?”

“Yeah,” you say, as if this is the most normal thing to bring up after an award-winning performance. “Last night, you mumbled something about… cabbages?”

She laughs, the sound catching you off guard. “Cabbages? Really?”

“Yep. It was riveting. You were really passionate about it, too. I was half-expecting you to wake up and start giving a TED talk on the virtues of leafy greens”

She rolls her eyes, but there’s a small smile tugging at her lips now, and you feel like you’ve won some kind of prize.

“And you didn’t wake me up? What if I had important cabbage-related things to say?”

“I’m sure they were life-changing,” you say, “But honestly, you were so cute, I didn’t have the heart”

“Cute,” she repeats, like it’s a foreign word. “I just played ninety minutes of some of the best football of my career and you’re calling me cute?”

“Hey,” you shrug, “I can multi-task. Appreciate your talent and your cuteness all at once. It’s a gift”

She raises an eyebrow. “And what exactly is your plan for this so-called ‘gift’?”

You smirk, leaning in closer, your lips brushing her ear as you whisper, “I’m going to show you just how proud I am of you. And if you’re lucky, I might even throw in a lecture on the superiority of cabbages”

Leah snorts, but you can feel the way her body tenses under your touch, anticipation thrumming just beneath the surface. “You’re ridiculous”

“And yet, here you are, fully consenting to be seduced by said ridiculous person”

“Fully consenting?” She repeats, amusement dancing in her eyes. “That’s some confidence you’ve got there”

“I prefer to call it optimism,” you say, sliding a hand up her thigh, fingers brushing the waistband of her joggers. “But call it whatever you want. Just as long as you let me take care of you”

She doesn’t say anything, just watches you with that intense stare of hers that always makes you feel like she’s stripping away every defense you’ve ever had. It’s unnerving, but also hot as hell, and you’re about three seconds away from ripping her clothes off just to make the feeling stop.

But you don’t. Because this isn’t about you. Not tonight.

“Let me,” you murmur, your hand already slipping beneath her waistband, fingers brushing against her bare skin. “I want to”

Leah sighs, and it’s the kind of sigh that says she’s giving in, but she’s going to pretend like she’s doing you a favor. “Fine. But if this is some kind of elaborate ruse to get out of listening to my cabbage TED talk, I’m going to be really disappointed”

“I promise,” you say, leaning in to kiss her neck, “No vegetables”

She laughs, and it’s the best sound you’ve heard all day. You take that as a win, pulling back just enough to slide her sweatpants down, leaving her in nothing but that damn sports bra that’s seen better days.

“You really should get a new one of these,” you say, fingers tracing the edge of the fabric. “It’s practically a relic at this point”

“Are you seriously going to critique my sports bra right now?”

“I’m just saying,” you murmur, kissing your way down her stomach, “It deserves to be retired. Maybe hung in a museum”

Leah opens her mouth to respond, but whatever sarcastic retort she had dies on her lips as your mouth finds her hip bone, teeth grazing the skin there. You feel her shiver beneath you, and you smile against her skin.

“Relax,” you say, your voice low, soothing. “Let me take care of you”

Leah’s hands find your hair, her fingers threading through it as she pulls you closer. “You talk too much”

“Maybe,” you say, your mouth moving lower, “But I’m really good at other things”

“Prove it”

You smirk, because that’s exactly what you plan to do. You take your time, kissing your way down her body, hands roaming, exploring every inch of her like it’s the first time. Leah’s breath catches when you reach the spot between her legs, and you can feel her anticipation like a tangible thing, thick and heavy in the air.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” you murmur, your breath hot against her skin.

“Shut up,” she mutters, but there’s no heat in her words, just a soft, almost embarrassed laugh.

“Make me,” you counter, and before she can come up with a witty retort, you dip your head down, your tongue slipping between her folds, tasting her for the first time tonight.

Leah’s response is immediate, a sharp intake of breath, her hands tightening in your hair as she arches off the bed. You don’t let up, your tongue teasing her, tasting her, taking in every soft sigh and quiet moan that escapes her lips.

You keep your movements slow, deliberate, teasing her just enough to keep her on edge, but not enough to push her over. She’s trembling beneath you now, her body tense with anticipation, and you know she’s close, so close, but you’re not done yet.

“Please,” she breathes, and it’s the closest thing to begging you’ve ever heard from her.

“Please, what?” you ask, your voice muffled against her.

“Just… please”

You could make her say it, make her beg properly, but you’re not that cruel. Instead, you give her what she wants, what she needs, your tongue moving faster, more insistent, until she’s gasping, her body shaking with the force of her orgasm.

You don’t stop until she’s pulling you away, her breath coming in ragged gasps, her body spent and trembling. When you finally pull back, she’s staring at you with something that looks suspiciously like awe, and you can’t help but feel a swell of pride in your chest.

“Good?” you ask, because you need to hear it.

“Good?” she repeats, her voice hoarse. “I told you you’re ridiculous”

“Ridiculously good, you mean”

Leah just shakes her head, a small smile playing on her lips. “Get up here”

You oblige, crawling up the bed to lay beside her, your arms wrapping around her as she buries her face in your neck. For a moment, there’s nothing but the sound of your breathing, the feel of her body pressed against yours, and you think this might be your favorite moment of the day.

“Thanks,” she murmurs after a while, her voice muffled against your skin.

“Anytime,” you reply, kissing the top of her head. “I’m so proud of you, Leah. You were amazing today”

She doesn’t say anything, just snuggles closer, her hand resting on your chest as she drifts off to sleep, safe and warm in your arms.

You lay there for a while, listening to the sound of her breathing, feeling the rise and fall of her chest against yours. And just before you drift off to sleep, you can’t help but whisper, “I really hope you dream about cabbages again”

Leah doesn’t respond, but you like to think that if she was awake, she would’ve laughed.

[rapunzellovesbooks]

The entitlement some people feel over Luke Newton´s career is baffling to me. Like, people out here saying "Oh, he has not milked the success of Bridgerton enough, his time has passed" or "He played his cards wrong" is just... wrong. Like, I get it, compared to Nicola, in the past few months, she has been much more active on social media than him, but can you actually blame him? Yall saw one picture where he was clearly uncomfortable, running away from the paparazzi and destroyed him online. Then he went on a vacation after months of press (and God knows which auditions, jobs or fittings on the side) and made it seem like he was committing a crime. Then he posts about a trip to Spain and some of you go call the hotel to check who he was with. If I were him, I would not post anything online ever again, because there is no winning, is there? He commented on one of Nicola´s post and she had to delete the awful comments people left. All because of what? A picture taken out of context with a girl who is not Nicola. News flash, people are allowed to have other people in their lives, romantically or otherwise. And to the people thinking that he did it to disentangle himself from Nicola, what drugs are you on? Like, he was holding so tight to her the night before, so excited for the premiere of Part 2, always praising her and looking at her with love in his eyes, even when no cameras were on them. I bet if people had not haunted him on social media he would have posted bts, or shared funny edits but the toxic fandom made it impossible for him to do so in real time. Because, apparently, to some people, if he had posted about Nicola while not being officially together with her, that is leading them astray. Umm, what?

And then you have the idea that he is not working. Nicola literally signed off to do Magic Faraway Tree before Part Two and has a small role in it, and the rest of her work has been in fashion. He went to fashion shows as well. Both of them are signed to Season 4 of Bridgerton and from what we have heard, they have quite a big part in it. If it took them 8 months to do their season, I can, at least, see them being there for maybe 4 or 5 months of shooting. That is work. Going to rehearsals and fittings is work. They literally get paid for that. It is astounding to me that Nicola has no future projects lined up yet, same as him, but everyone is on his ass for the same thing he has been doing for years, work in private. Now, I am a shipper, I do believe they will be together eventually, but I genuinely do not understand how that has anything to do with people trashing him for his upcoming projects. He may not have found the project he wants to do or is waiting to share info. Also, I bet you Nic or him would have shared a picture of going back to set already if some fans weren´t analysing pixels on screens.

I do feel like there is a double standard here, because if Nicola had done the same, gone on vacation or been photographed with a random guy, everyone would have been like "Good for her, etc.". She gets on the Top 100 List for, honestly, being more present online with the work she does, but there are so many people who do great work who are not and will never be on that list. If Luke had gotten on it, some people would be so mad at him, I just know it.

I just miss them together and I have to blame the toxic fans for not seeing them together anymore. I do not doubt they have been in contact since, I mean, this whole ordeal happened because we are so obsessed with their connection, they must have talked about that infamous day, but also, I think some fans are creating stories of them not talking or growing apart that are just hurtful. Even before the world tour, they did not see each other every day, they do not have to speak every day for them to have a great bond. They simply cannot share it online anymore or, at least he can´t, because people over dissect every thing, even if it is just a smiley. Taylor Swift was framed with the whole Kanye thing years ago and she disappeared for a year. She was still doing stuff and seeing friends but we just never knew about it. And I get it.

It hurts me so much to see a genuinely nice and kind guy who did an amazing job as Colin get so many negative comments over nothing. Every time Nic does something, people throw it directly in his face. Oh, he was not at the Emmys. Oh, he was not at a fashion show. Maybe he does not want to be?! Maybe he couldn´t? Does Zendaya have to be everywhere with Tom Holland? Like, what?!

#lukola #nicluke #lukenewton #nicolacoughlan

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♥︎ ₵₳₦ĐɎ ♥︎

♥︎ Pairing: lead singer!boyfriend!yuta x chubby!fem!bassist reader (you get mark & johnny as bandmates too so that's fun)

♥︎ Genre: rockstar au/fluff/angst/smut

♥︎ Summary: Joining your favorite band was a dream come true. That is until you fell for the lead singer who has no shortage of groupies throwing themselves at him. He says he loves you but can you really trust him? I mean, you used to be a groupie too after all.

♥︎ Word Count: 4.1k-ish

♥︎ Warnings: Strong language. If you don't like curse words I'm sorry babes. I'm a potty mouth. Unprotected sex, creampie, shower sex, rough sex, a lil choking, nibbling, scratching, fingering, marking, oral sex (f receiving), tattoos/piercings, pet names (daddy, baby, etc), a lil drop of mutual possessiveness.

♥︎ A/N: I've really been trying to have more fun with my fics and just let my brain do it's thing so I hope y'all have fun with it too, darlings.

��Yuta, I fucking love you!” an obnoxiously tipsy female voice screams from the crowd.

A bra comes soaring from the sea of bodies packed into the pit at the edge of the stage. The pink lace fabric lands at Yuta’s feet, draping itself across his scuffed black combat boots. Any band knows that when you stop the show to do something — tune your guitar, take a sip of water — it’s prime opportunity for anything to happen. And it almost always will. 

It’s not like you can blame her. Once upon a time you’d been one of those girls in the crowd, lost in the chaos of the night. There’s nothing like it, the rush that you get when your heart seems to sync with the violent bashing of the drums. The distorted guitars like electric coursing through your veins. Every lyric floats through the air, becoming more and more a part of you with each breath you take in. 

Then there was him…

Nakamoto Yuta. When your friends were all drooling over him you’d pretend you weren't interested. You’d never be so basic as to fall for the lead singer of the band. Maybe he did have the sort of voice that makes a girl melt even when he’s growling the filthiest lyrics. Especially when there’s growling. And maybe he did have bone structure to die for.

Then there were the tattoos, piercings, and the way sweat glistened on his chest halfway through a show. You weren’t won over by any of that. It was all about the music, one artist appreciating another. So when Yuta’s bassist quit the band and your manager broke the news that she’d gotten you an audition your intentions were purely artistic.

In this industry, a girl’s gotta work twice as hard as the guys to prove she can do half of what they can. You worked your ass off session after session, easily demolishing any other bassist their label could’ve suggested. You earned your spot in the band ten times over. Made sure no one could question why you were there. Then and only then did you let Yuta fuck your brains out. 

Before shows, after shows. Tour buses. Hotels. Airport bathrooms. Green rooms. Whenever. Wherever. However. In the studio and onstage it was still about the music but everything else? All of it was driven by how much you lusted for and, much to your dismay, loved one another.

Recalling the heavenly experience it is to be bent over a bathroom sink with Yuta so deep inside of you that you feel it in the back of your throat, you can’t really blame Ms. Pink Lace for tossing her bra at him. 

Kneeling down to pick up the bra, Yuta takes a look back at you. The most innocent face in the world, his baby angel, geared up and ready to commit murder. 

You can’t really blame her but—

Fuck it. You do. 

“I think she wants to come backstage after the show!” a guy shouts from the other side of the stage, garnering laughter from the crowd. Yuta smiles as he approaches the mic stand, the bra dangling from his fingers by the strap. “I think she wants my girl to kick my ass,” Yuta laughs, pushing his messy hair back out of his face.

“Kick his ass” Johnny whispers into his mic from the safety of his drum kit. Nearly spitting out the sip of water you’ve just taken, you toss the rest back at Johnny. The years of experience he has over you come in handy as he expertly dodges it.

“Boo, she doesn’t like to share!” Ms. Pink Lace shouts, not quite ready to back down.

Yuta steps aside and turns to you once more, “You wanna come answer this?” You unplug your bass and stroll to Yuta’s side with the sweetest smile on your face. “Do I share him?” you ask as if it’s the dumbest question you’ve ever heard in your life. It is. You lay your hand flat on his chest, running it all the way down to the waist of his pants. Looping a finger around his belt, you pull him closer and into a kiss deep enough to make you both forget you’re on stage.

When you finally break away, you borrow his mic for a quick announcement. “Our next song is called ‘In Your Fucking Dreams’!” Taking the bra from Yuta, you put it on over your dress. Ever the supportive boyfriend, he clasps it in the back for you and plants another kiss on your lips before you skip back to your spot. 

“Well, then…” Yuta sings, “This is ‘In Your Fucking Dreams’” Mark laughs, strumming his guitar to warm up, “In your fucking dreams, parenthesis, thanks for the new bra.” The crowd cheers, basking in the chaos of it all. You plug your bass back up, ready to shred hard enough that your fingers bleed. You’re pissed, all of the boys know it, but the show must go on. 

There’s no crying in punk rock.

“Are you crying?” Mark asks, spotting you amongst the legions staff shuffling around the halls backstage. “No” you sniffle, wiping the tears from your cheeks, “The lights were just hot and—” He grabs you by the arm, turning you to face him. “You’re a shitty liar. You’re crying. What’s wrong?”

Overhearing the conversation as he passes, Johnny doubles back. “Are you—” Johnny starts but figures it out before he has to speak another word, “Wait, don’t tell me you’re upset about that bra thing.” Feeling cornered, you try to push them aside but they don’t budge an inch. “Look, no. I don’t know. I’m just—fuck just leave me alone okay!” you snap, another wave of tears stinging the corners of your eyes.

Yuta finally catches up, his exhaustion turning to concern when he sees you. If you’re upset, even over the tiniest thing, everything stops for him including the urge to pass out after a show. He takes you by the hand, bringing you into his arms. He’s sticky and wet but his embrace is comforting all the same. “Baby,” he says softly, petting your hair, “What’s going on? Talk to me.” With so many eyes on you, you aren’t quite sure how to admit that Johnny’s right.

You are upset about the bra thing. Upset, embarrassed, angry, hurt — every mixture of things — and you can’t make sense of any of it. “Can we just go back to the hotel?” you ask, gathering whatever composure you have left. Yuta hesitates but gives in when he sees your eyes begging “Please”. “Uh, yeah. You guys—” he sighs, looking to the others. Johnny and Mark nod, getting the hint.

Mark pats him on the shoulder before walking ahead, “Got it, bro. We’ll catch you tomorrow.” Johnny hangs back for a second, leaning in to whisper into your ear, “Don’t worry, he’s so whipped for you. It’s, like, super sad.” Johnny’s comment gets a giggle out of you which is all he needed to feel okay walking away.

Yuta leads you back to the green room where he stays glued to you as you wait for the okay from your manager to leave. You’re relieved when you can finally go, the fresh night air soothing the suffocating feeling that’s been terrorizing you for the past hour. The ride back to the hotel is quiet with most of your time spent zoning out in the kaleidoscope of lights cast on you as you pass the local shops.

You can feel Yuta watching you, his hand firmly and lovingly holding yours, but can’t bring yourself to meet his gaze. Not only are you the only girl in the band, you replaced someone fans already loved. Each night you have to fight for their respect, you knew this already. Now falling for him meant you had to fight for it in more ways than one. The girls will always be there in numbers your brain can’t even fathom, willing to do things that your brain, unfortunately, can fathom in nauseating detail. 

“A girlfriend to a rockstar is like a bicycle to a fish. Fucking useless.” 

That’s what one of the producers had advised him when you were supposed to be in the booth cluelessly recording your portion of a song. Those words crawled into the pit of your stomach, spreading doubt like a disease ever since. 

By the time you’re done spiraling, you’re upstairs seated at the foot of the bed in your hotel room. Contrary to popular belief, your band’s not the type to trash hotel rooms. That’s why you get to book places as beautiful as this with little to no resistance. Everything’s sleek and modern with large three-panel windows that overlook the city. Abstract paintings adorn the walls making it feel more like an art gallery than a place you sleep but the warm overhead lighting saves it from feeling too stuffy.

“Hey, uh, could you shower with me?” Yuta asks, drawing your attention to the bathroom door. It’s only now that you notice the shower running and Yuta standing there in a towel. “I’d shower alone but I have a fear of showers” he adds, “Shower phobia. I’ve had it really bad since I was a kid.” “And Mark says I’m a shitty liar” you tease, flopping back onto the bed.

You can’t see Yuta but you hear him shuffling across the smooth carpeted floor. He stops at your feet, dropping to his knees and laying his head in your lap. Almost on their own, your fingers find a way into his hair and silky strands swirl around them. Yuta breathes in deep, hoping what he says next will soothe you. “You’re enough for me. You know that, right?”

Time seems to freeze and you along with it. Something you love about him, his ability to seemingly always know how you’re feeling, has finally come back to bite you in the ass. Why can’t he just be content pretending nothing happened? 

“Yuta, I—” you say, sitting up enough to catch him staring at you the same way he had in the car. Only this time you don’t dodge his gaze, you let it pull you in. The man looking up at you isn’t the one in the magazines or on stage. There’s no act, only him and a heart pledged to you before you'd even known it. “What happened tonight, I’m sorry” he apologizes, “I can do better. I will.” 

“What? No!” you gasp, bringing you both up so that you’re eye to eye, “Please don’t apologize. That’s not what I wanted.” Still on his knees, Yuta slips his hands beneath your dress, fingers massaging your plush thighs. Touching you isn’t always sexual. Sometimes he just wants to be connected to you. This is one of those times. Feeling your body warm against his palms eases the anxiety knocking around in his head. Even though you’re upset your body still responds with pleasure to him, giving into his touch. That’s how he knows he hasn’t lost you. The day it doesn’t—well, he tries not to imagine that. 

“Do you think I’d cheat on you?” he asks, catching you off guard with his directness. You place a hand on each of his cheeks, squishing them together so his lips purse like the cutest fish you’ve ever seen. Yuta makes little smooching noises and you give him a peck on the lips. “I know you wouldn’t do that” you sigh, relaxing your hold on his cheeks, “But there’s a million girls out there who want you. I’m only one. What if someday you meet a girl and she’s everything you never knew you wanted?”

Yuta says nothing in response, simply staring at you for so long that you want to shake him to see if he’s alive. “There are a million other girls…” he admits, “Which is good for all of the guys I know want you because there’s only one of you and you’re mine.”

“Oh, Yuta, come off it—”

“I’m serious. I don’t give a shit how many girls are out there. You never have to worry about me finding what I never knew I wanted” he promises, gripping your hips to bring you in so tight that your legs are already wrapped around him. His lips brush yours, hitting you with a wicked mixture of chills and hot flashes. “I know who I want,” he whispers, nibbling at your bottom lip, “Who I love. I choose you. No one else. Can you trust that? For me?”

The sincerity in his voice, how it trembles with emotion when he says that he loves you, resonates more than anything he’s ever sung. His hands ease towards your inner thighs and they part for him instantly. The pad of his thumb brushes your clit through your panties and you shudder. “Yes,” you moan between his lips as his mouth captures yours. His kiss is like quicksand, the more you move the faster it drags you in. But there’s nothing to be done about it.

You’re ravenous for each other, your tongues performing an intricate dance that tangles you together. The movement of his thumb against your clit quickens, your hips arching to beg for more. “You love me baby?” he asks, trailing kisses down your chin. Tugging your panties to the side, his fingertips tease the slippery warmth of your entrance. “Yes, I…” you squeak, shivering when his fingers plunge into you, “Love you so much.”

Yuta’s tongue tickles your neck, love bites marking his way to your cleavage. “Tell me I’m yours,” he says, making no attempt to hide how desperate he is to hear you say it. Your walls clench around his fingers. He flexes them in response, the stretch so satisfying that your eyes nearly roll back. “I want you to own it so say it” he urges, pushing in deeper, “Tell me I’m yours.” Your arms come around his neck, your best attempt at staying upright.

“You’re mine. All mine” you moan, the faintest hint of possessiveness peeking through. It’s music to his ears, turning him on to the point that the towel’s virtually useless now in hiding how hard he is. Reaching between your bodies, you take him into your hand to delight in what you’ve done to him. Stroking up and down you feel the blood rushing up his shaft — veins throbbing, his arousal decorating your chipped nail polish.

“Is this mine too?” you joke, teasing the head of his cock with light circular movements. “Fuck, yes. You want it?” he mumbles, his face buried between your tits. He can barely breathe, he’s probably lightheaded, and it’s worth it. Gripping him by the back of the head, you bring him eye to eye with you again. “I want it” you grin, the fullness in your lower belly intensifying.

Yuta sticks his tongue out, curling it to wet his lips. Catching you off guard, he grabs you by the neck and pushes you back on the bed. Keeping you pinned by your neck, his free hand tears your panties to the side. His mouth latches onto your clit, licking and sucking at the sensitive bundle of nerves. You’re completely at his mercy, only able to shake and moan as he devours you. His tongue runs between the petal soft lips of your pussy, your juices the best drink he’s had all night.

“Find someone else?” he scoffs, taking a handful of your belly, “Who else’s pussy tastes this good, hmm?” His tongue slams into you, the hand around your throat bringing you flush against his face.

 “Yuta, oh god — fuck — you can’t say things like that” you whimper, clawing at the sheets.

“Or what?”

Yuta pulls back, his face soaked with your juices, “Is my baby gonna cum if I tell her how good she tastes?” Refusing to wait for your answer, his tongue dips back inside of you. The ridges of your walls glide across his tastebuds, pulsing each time he swirls around and around. He’s relentless, letting up only for quick breaths of air. “So wet and so — mmm — fucking good” he groans, kissing your inner thigh.

When his tongue meets your core again you feel tingling in the tips of your toes and fingers. The tension in your stomach rises, your breaths growing shallow. Yuta releases your neck, locking his arms around your thighs to keep them spread. “That’s it, baby. That’s my girl. Cum for me.”

Pulling his tongue out, he drags it across your clit and sends you crashing over the edge. You throw your hand over your mouth, suppressing the incoherent moans that spill from your lips. Yuta snatches your hand away, holding you by the wrist just in time to hear those last few moans escape. Not missing a beat, he hops up and brings your limp body with him.

Disoriented, the rubbing of your thighs against your core causing some aftershock, you struggle to gain your footing. “You’re trying to kill me” you pout, leaning on him for support. “Why would I do that?” he asks, putting on his best innocent face, “We still have 10 more stops on the tour. The label would kill me.” 

“I can’t stand you!” you say, slapping him on the cheek as softly as you can. Yuta winks, pinching you on the ass, “You’ll live. Now about that shower—” Shaking off the post-orgasm brain fog, you manage to hold yourself up enough to lock lips with him. It’s the clumsiest thing. Kissing, caressing, peeling away your clothes. All while blindly making your way to the shower.

You step into the shower first, expecting Yuta to follow immediately after but he stops short just outside of it.

“Were you, like, serious about that shower phobia thing?”

“No,” he laughs, “I just want to look at you for a second if that’s okay.”

Standing alone in the shower, steamy droplets of water running down the curves of your body, you’re pure perfection. A vine of cherry blossoms travels across your left shoulder, riding your love handles, your hips, down your thigh. He knows how long it took to finish that tattoo. All of the tiny gorgeous details missed by the naked eye. It’s been a secret mission of his to explore every aspect of it. And of you. 

The admiration radiates off of him and you find yourself overcome with shyness. “Dude, come on. You’re making me nervous!” you say, hiding behind the shower curtain. Yuta jumps into the shower, hugging you from the side, “Oh my bad, dude. I call you ‘baby’ and I get ‘dude’?” Paying him no mind, you grab the body wash and begin to cover him in rose-scented bubbles.

“Don’t be a brat. I call you other things too. I call you baby—” Your fingers trace his collarbone. “I call you honey—” They travel across his shoulder, drifting down his back. You pause halfway down, “I call you…daddy.” You don’t even try to hide your amusement when your nails press into his lower back and he whimpers. “You—why would you do that?” Yuta asks, knowing very well why.

It does something for him when you call him that. Something that makes him want to tear you apart in the best way. Leaning against the shower wall, you play with his belly button piercing. “Did I do something wrong, d—ah!” Yuta lifts you up, bringing your legs around his waist. Catching your breath, you hold on tight, terrified to fall.

“I didn’t know you could do that.” Yuta giddily shifts your weight like it’s nothing, thrusting into you, “I know.” Still dripping from your last orgasm, he slips in easily. Almost too easily. There’s no teasing, no taking it slow. Every inch of him is buried deep inside of you. You can’t cover your mouth and the shower does nothing to conceal your overstimulated moans.

Yuta bounces you up and down on his cock. The water raining down on you causes a sharp slapping noise when your bodies come together. “Fuck me harder” you beg, knowing it’ll only make the sound louder. Always here to give you what you want, he fucks into you harder and harder. With every thrust you seem to get tighter, your body so needy for him that it can’t let go. 

They say there’s nothing like it. The rush that you get from a concert. Your heart syncing with the violent bashing of the drums. Well, whoever said that, has no fucking idea what they’re talking about.

Yuta presses your legs back, the head of his cock thick and throbbing as he stimulates your sweet spot. “Baby, it feels too good” he pants, knowing he’s on the brink of coming undone. Purposely clenching as tight as you can, you rock your hips down onto him and he can’t hold out any longer. Now this rush? There’s nothing like this.

The fullness as he cums inside of you makes your second orgasm all the more intense when it consumes you. The two of you float in a state of euphoria somewhere between being out of your body and being hyper-aware of it all at once. Kissing you on the neck, Yuta carefully sets you down on your feet. Unable to hold himself up, he sits down in the bathtub. He holds his arms out to you and you make your way down, cuddling up to him.

“I love you, dude” he mocks, tracing the petals on your tattoo. You groan, rolling your eyes, “Yeah, yeah. I love you too.” You share a laugh at your mutual silliness and then…nothing. Only silence. Your breathing. The running of the water. Your heart and his. You may be in the business of noise but together you’ve found meaning in just being. 

“Our band doesn’t really have a concept, you know? We kinda just do what we want. It’s a vibe” Mark explains to the journalist holding a mic way too close to his face.

When your label booked you for a weekend at one of the biggest festivals in the country they failed to tell you that you had interviews lined up. Let alone ones this painfully boring. So here you are, half dressed outside of your tour bus baking in the summer sun with a camera pointed at your faces.

“And vibes are important!” Johnny throws in, “People…they need vibes because without vibes, who are we? Am I right?” Mark stares into the camera, his mind truly blown, “Bro, that’s…deep.” The interviewer nods, pretending that he understood any of that, “Vibes. Right. So you guys are on another level and—”

Just that moment a group of girls pass by behind the camera. Dressed in their skimpiest festival gear, it takes zero effort on their part to reel Mark and Johnny in. “We are so sorry” Mark apologizes, quietly flirting with the girls, “We gotta go get ready for soundcheck.” “Soundcheck, yes! Gotta keep that sound checked” Johnny says, throwing up a peace sign.

As Mark and Johnny ditch the interview to recruit groupies, the interviewer turns to you and Yuta who’ve been praying that he’d forgotten you were there. “Well, uh, I guess it’s just me and the happy couple, huh?” the man asks, plastering on a smile. The two of you are collectively unmoved, though you’re a bit nicer about it than Yuta.

Like a shark, the interviewer smells blood in the water and the mic is in your face next. “Some would say you’re pretty brave dating a rock star. Aren’t you worried someone might try to steal him away?” You and Yuta share a knowing glance before you snatch the mic from the interviewer.

“No. I mean, have you seen me?” you ask, almost glowing as Yuta showers you with kisses, “Next question.” But there is no next question. You hand the mic to Yuta and walk off to avoid saying something you’ll regret. 

“And then there was one. So I’m here with lead singer—”

“Yikes, sorry. I have…interview phobia? Yeah” Yuta lies, beginning to back out of frame before you get too far away. Nearly defeated and totally at a loss, the interviewer tries one more time to bait Yuta back in. “I was hoping we could finish this. Maybe I could ask a few more questions.” Yuta pretends to consider it for dramatic effect. “Better idea, you should pull out your phone and stream our new single ‘Don't Ask My Girlfriend Stupid Shit’.” 

Noticing that Yuta’s still holding onto the microphone, you run back to steal it. “Parenthesis, thanks for the brand new mic, asshole!” you cackle, holding the metallic purple equipment up like a Grammy. You disappear again, this time with some new equipment. Yuta just shrugs, waving goodbye to the camera, “Love of my life.” 

[mystichistoria]

I didn't end up getting the assistant job which is why I'm fantasizing about getting another day time day job.

Maybe it would be fun to do waitressing again.

[harrysmimi]

Enchanted To Meet You

Synopsis: One where YN is a hopeless romantic and she writes a song about certain fast race-car driver she met at Cannes.

More of my work

YN has been in this industry her whole life.

She have always hated these big events. Yes she tried her best to avoid certain events, parties and even press conference.

She started acting when she was just five years old, continued till she was sixteen and dropped to continue with her studies. Her and her family moved back to their home country from The States so that her and her siblings could focus on their studies more. She recently made a come back with a few movies and own album, one of her movie was supposed to be premiered at Cannes this year.

So YN went there. Her movie premiere went as well as expected.

She was at the after party dinner. No one would trust her when she said she hated being at these places. She hated people with fake smiles and hated the forced laughs there. She sat there at the bar with her favourite drink not even bothering to take a sip from it. She tried so hard not to get caught up with her phone again. It's been her coping mechanism since she got her first phone ever. She was tired of the lonely place these parties were and always have been for her.  YN could hear charters around her and people order alcohol.

She was approached by one of the directors present at the party and she got caught up with the conversation half heartedly. There she saw a pair of brown eyes glancing at her from afar as he spoke with someone else. All dolled up in a classic black suit. This went on for about fifteen minutes. Throughout the conversation with this director all she could do is wonder where she has seen him. He seemed to be doing the same. YN always remembered faces she had seen around, that was her super power.

Finally the director took his leave as someone called from him. YN let out a not-so-subtle sigh and glanced at her phone. All that man talked about was nothing but insincere promises of him casting her in one of his movies. She still hasn't gotten a job without auditioning, like ever.

She picked up her phone to call her driver to ask to bring out the car so she could go to the hotel and pack up to leave to go home. That's when she saw a slim silhouette approaching her. These are the times she hated the most too, not having her glasses on her so at least her vision is not blurry in the dimly lit room. She doesn't feel comfortable wearing contacts. He was maybe six feet away from her when she saw those familiar eyes again. The same look as before as he must be trying to reminisce where they met.

YN remembered his name all of a sudden. Her brother spoke about him, he was into F4 and was competition on a national level at home. Whilst she doesn't understand the sport and has just enough interest to support her baby brother, she knew his last name and that was a F1 driver (she thinks she is not quite sure) and he drives for Scuderia Toro Rosso.

YN felt her heart skip a beat and her throat going dry, she took a big gulp on her drink she had been carrying around the whole night.

"Hi, YN right?" He spoke with a heavy accent.

"Yeah." She smiled politely, trying to be nonchalant while wiping the corners of her lips with her finger tips.

"I am Carlos, nice to meet you." He approached her with a handshake which she reciprocated rather nicely. She was in no mood to socialise today, but she felt the sudden need to, because it was Carlos. "Do you mind if I...?" He pointed at the seat in front of her which was empty.

"Yeah go ahead. It is not taken." She assured him, "it's nice to meet you too Carlos."

"Thank you." He flashed her a dimpled smile, "I was there at the premiere of your movie. You did an amazing job, saw your other two movies too. My mom loved it so much!"

"Oh thank you, that means so much to me!" Her heart melted, she genuinely felt so happy when people liked her work, she loves doing it, she loves acting and singing so much. It warmed her heart with the love she receives from her fans. "Thank you so much for saying that! My brother actually talks about you a lot. He is in F4 now himself."

"Oh that's amazing." He was quite surprised.

"Yeah, he is very close to being a national champion." She bragged about her baby brother rightfully so. "He is a huge fan of yours."

"Oh please say Hi to him from me."

"I will." They heard people going crazy in the crowd as some party music started playing. "Someone is going to throw up there." She said finally took a sip of her drink.

"Oh!" Carlos sounded in disgust as someone actually threw up. "How did you know?"

"I'm a psychic." She smiled cheekily.

They both day there in a moment of silence (not really silent). "So have you taken your brother to any of the grand prix?"

"No not really." She shrugged, "He has been to a few himself though. I don't understand the sport much, but I try, for him. I mean I just have one baby brother I have to support him."

"You'll get used to it." Carlos assured her.

"Oh I really hope I do." She smiled sheepishly. "This is more boring than last year right?"

"Couldn't tell, this is my first time. I am attending in the middle of the season actually. I have race next week."

"Oh nice." She nodded and got awkward real quick. YN never learnt to be extroverted having spent all her life in this industry, she still hates talking to new people. Especially if they are famous. But this was different, He actually made an effort to get to know her.

They spent the next two hours talking and having a great laugh, she was on her third and last drink of the night. Carlos was actually pretty funny. YN wouldn't lie to herself that she had a bit of a celebrity crush on Carlos since her brother started to talk about him.

YN was in the middle of sharing a funny incident with him which happened on sets when Carlos noticed everyone was on the dance floor whilst a soft song played along. She looked around as she watched couples taking the floor. He looked at her for a beat.

"Do you want to dance with me?" He asked, offering her his hand. She placed her empty glass on the bar table, with a slight shrug of her shoulder she accepted his offer placing her hand in his.

Carlos was quick to guide to the floor, whilst YN was busy watching how small her hand looked holding his. His hand was warm and his grip was gentle yet firm enough that the hold wouldn't break as they made their way through the crowd.

Finally he picked a spot, it was still in the corner of the room. He stood in front of her as he placed the hand he was holding onto his shoulder already swaying to the soft music. He slipped his hand onto her waist pulling her just a tad bit closer.

"Is this okay?" He asked as he held onto her free hand.

"Mhmm." She nodded, completely mystified there.

YN was surprised by the fact how tall he was and she was wearing heels. His eyes looked even more dreamy in the dimmer lights. It was doing something to her, especially with three drinks in her system fully settled in and his hand on her back brushing on her skin softly. His hair looked bouncier, making her resist even more from running her fingers through them. Before she knew they were practically hugging each other, with her arm wrapped around his neck now.

We'll the moment was short lived for YN when the DJ decided to change up the music to something upbeat. "I think he hates slow songs." She muttered under her breath.

"I agree." He whispered back in her ear, feeling her pull herself but back he finally got to look at her.

"I, umm... I-" she was interrupted by her manager Joel there.

"Sorry to interrupt, YN, you have a flight in the morning to catch." He reminded her.

"Oh yeah." She remembered that she'd got a full packed schedule tomorrow.

"I'll get the car for you." He said as he left, shaking quick hands with Carlos.

"I am sorry about that." She shrugged, "I have to be at three table readings tomorrow."

"That's fine. It was nice meeting you YN." He smiled softly.

"Nice meeting you too Carlos." She said as she carefully and reluctantly stepped aside letting go of his hand.

She had to leave to too soon.

YN was bummed when she realised neither of them asked to exchange numbers.

The drive back to the hotel was long, but not long enough that she could relive the time spent. She seemed to really like him. He was very considerate of what he shared and how he spoke.

She was finally in bed all showered up.

It then hit her. What if he is seeing someone? Well, why would he ask her to dance if he was? Maybe it was being polite?

She could just wish. "Please don't be in love with someone!" She groaned as she turned on her tummy to wonder even more.

.........................................................................

It was maybe around six months later, Carlos was sitting in his living room. It was spring break, back home with his family.

That was when he got a link through text from his sister, it was a YouTube video.

It was YN. It was a Jimmy Kimmel interview of hers promoting her new movie on a press tour with her co-star Henry Cavill. He was sat next to her as she answered her questions revealing one question at a time.

"YN apart from this, we see that one of your original songs is in the movie... It's... It's called Enchanted." Jimmy asked with a cheeky smile as the crowd went wild at his question, "...so my question is, who is it about?" She looked at her co-star nervously.

"Should I tell them?" She looked at Henry.

"If you want to yeah." Henry just shrugged.

"Oh yeah Henry that helps!" She exclaimed sarcastically, "but no, on a serious note it's about a guy I met at an after party at this film festival. I have a huge crush on him, so I just went home and wrote it." She explained with dramatic hands.

"Who is the song about, do you want to share that or we'll just cut this out?" Jimmy asked.

"It is about Carlos Sainz, he is an F1 driver." She revealed sheepishly. "Well, I believe his name is actually Carlos Sainz Jr., yeah. But turns out he is taken though, that's quiet a bummer."

Carlos in that moment was over the moon. He had been crushing on her since he saw her in that one movie she starred in with Julia Roberts. This sent him through the seventh sky.

As she mentioned he is taken.

He then later found out that she was already following him on Instagram while he has been following her for longer.

.........................................................................

It was yet another race week.

He saw the face he had been seeing all over his Instagram at the Paddock. She was at the McLaren garage. She was talking to Fernando and showing him something on her phone, or maybe she was on facetime.

Carlos was busy with quali prep.

It made him nervous seeing her there. He took in a deep breath as he got into his Renault. Somewhere in him, he wanted to give his two hundred percent extra just so he could impress her.

He did decently by the end of quali.

After the team discussion Carlos heads back to his. It was a long day.

He just scrolled through his Instagram to see what fun memes his fans are posting now, when he saw a message pop up on his notification bar. It made his heart race faster than his car.

YNofficial replied to your story

The message was sent just maybe twenty seconds ago and Carlos found himself clicking on it immediately. He cursed at him for that.

- Hey, I was at the qualifying race today. You did amazing! 👏

He was grinning, he realised as he felt his cheeks aching now. He liked the message and quickly typed in  reply.

- Thank you!

He saw the little bubble move on the bottom left corner of his screen immediately.

- Hope to see you tomorrow! Had to rush back for work. Best of luck for the race!

- Hope to see you too.

He sent that message and she read it. Was that too much or a Thank You again would have worked? He didn't know why he was stressing out so much.

Carlos was excited for the next day though, more so to meet YN. Hopefully.

....................................................................

The next day YN did not arrive at the Paddock. She had to cancel last minute due to some family emergency. She had to take the next flight back home as her mum was rushed to the ICU and nothing was more important to her than her mum.

Carlos on the other hand waited until he had to get in his car and drive. He was not aware of her situation, it definitely made him upset.

But it was easier for him to move on with the celebration for the night.

A year later YN was back at the Jimmy Kimmel show to promote the sequel to her movie with Henry Cavill and her album with Enchanted was just released too. She performed the song at the show. The interview was coming to an end there.

"So do you remember the way we discussed this song a year ago and your album is finally out." Jimmy started.

"Yes, it is finally out. It was set to be released last year but I had to push it forward." YN admitted.

"Yeah, how you mentioned it is about someone very special." Jimmy flashed the same cheeky smile as they played the video on the big screen which made YN laugh.

"Yeah, it is, it is." She said shaking her head.

"We'll, we have one last surprise for you." Jimmy said. "Come on out Carlos!" He exclaimed as he got up from his seat.

YN felt her heart jump to her mouth with that announcement as she slowly stood up too, just to be hit by realisation to see a crew bring out a life size cardboard cut of him in his race suit. The crowd went ballistic at her reaction, even Henry was laughing his arse off.

"Oh my god you scared me!" YN yelled over the noise of the crowd and laughed till her eyes got watery as the crew placed the cut out right next to her. "Oh my goodness!" She tried to gather herself with her hands on her aching cheeks and wiping her tears off. There was another cut out of him placed net to her this time he was wearing a suite.

"Stop it you guys!" She laughed even harder.

That's when the crowd started going ballistic again as it was another cut out of the racer in a crisp suit. The whole interview the cut outs stayed out.

...........................................................

Flash forward to a few years alter.

It was the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix week. YN was there was quite a few events to attend. She was also invited by McLaren again to attend the finale race. She also had the final show of her tour there on Monday after the race.

YN has no shifted to being a singer more than being in movies as it was more manageable for her, her solo albums were doing fantastically and she was also writing and composing for Hindi movies. She was doing fairly well now that she has been out of a relationship which lasted three years and she was almost engaged. The breakup did took a toll on her mental health but now she has been finding herself back on track slowly. She has found herself a home in Madrid, which is turning out to be very nice for her mental peace. She has been finding new ventures to explore, she has started her own Jewellery line now.

On the race day, YN made sure to go see Carlos. Well, they have become good acquaintances over the last few years.

"Hi, so nice to meet you." YN greeted Frédéric at the garage, it was pretty chaotic there in that moment. She as told that they have just gotten out of a team meat and she didn't quite understand what her manger told her after that, but all she knew that she was meeting the boss. She still has a lot to learn about the sport. The next person she met was Charles, they spoke about some general stuff, work mostly. Charles told her how he have found few of her songs fitting into his music taste.

It was finally when Carlos came out all ready and dressed up in his race suit, half of it hanging off his hips. He was quite surprised to her there.

"Carlos!" Charles announced. "Meet YN!" He had a bit of teasing lilt in his tone

"Hi," he grinned as he approached her.

"Hi." YN seemed a bit nervous to see him. Well a crush is never crushed even after years sometimes. Carlos went for a hug and she for a hand shake, which ended in an awkward mix of a hand shake and a side hug. Charles took the queue and excused himself to go discuss some things with the engineers.

"It's nice to see you after so long." Carlos started off the conversation and they stood there for maybe five minutes when he offered to show her around. "I have some time till I have to go."

"Are you sure?" She asked, "you don't have any debriefs before the race, right? If you guys have that concepts? Sorry still learning about the sport."

"We do have that concept but we still have time." He chuckle softly. He showed her around the garage and the car which was being prepared there. Soon it was time for Carlos to get his radio fixed and get in the car.

"It was so nice to see you again, Carlos. All the best for the race!" This time she gave him a hug, which lingered a few seconds longer than she anticipated for it to last for.

"Thank you!" He had to let go of her reluctantly.

...........................................................

YN stayed till end this time.

The whole time she was rooting for Carol to win even though she was invited there by McLaren. She was jumping like a fan when he secured P2.

Well, she was literally wearing red, it was pretty clear which team she was supporting actually. Especially since she has got a Ferrari herself now.

She even stayed after the podium ceremony too. Hoping to see him and congratulate him in person.

"Hi!" She chirped when she saw him finally, giving him yet another hug. "Congratulations!"

"Thank you so much!" He hugged her back with equal amount of excitement.

"You killed it out there!" She chuckled pulling away from their hug, she saw Charles approaching them as well. "Hey, congratulations to you too!"

"Thank you so much!" They shared a hug too. "Do you wanna come celebrate with us?"

"Oh thank you so much for the invite, but I will have to pass this time. I have a show tomorrow and I have to be up early for sound checks." She said politely.

"Oh no that's okay." Charles assured her, "all the best for your show tomorrow."

"Oh thank you!" She smiled. "It was nice meeting you guys again. Have a blast at the party."

"Nice meeting you too, YN." Charles spoke again. Carlos just stood there, glancing at his shoes every now and then.

YN left. She was spotted by some fans heading out, so she was stuck there for a while. She was talking to them and taking pictures. When she finally got to her ride back to her hotel which was parked right at the VIP exit she heard her name called out.

It was Carlos. Now dressed up in a casual outfit there, his hair still a beautiful mess. "Hi." He jogged to her.

"Hi." She stopped as she was just about to get in the cars, she got out and closed the door.

"Hi." He said again, "I already said that..."

She hummed out a soft chuckle, "yes you did."

"I want to ask if you are free after Monday?" He approached with caution on this topic.

"Yeah, I am actually. I do have an event to attend later the same week." She said, still confused of where this conversation might go, as far she knew he has a girlfriend.

"If you don't mind I would like to take you out on lunch?" He asked politely and the smile on her face vanished.

"Carlos..." she whispered, "I, I, I-"

"It's fine if you don't want to." He interrupted her.

"No, I, I, I mean, I, I thought you're already seeing someone." She stuttered.

"No, I haven't been seeing anyone." He simply shrugged, he did get where her hesitation came from. "It's been a year actually."

"Oh." YN let out a soft breath of relief. She wouldn't like to be involved in a cheating scandal when she was cheated on by her ex-almost-fiancé. "Yeah, then you can." She smiled again finally.

"Can I get your number so we can plan?" He nervously asked to which she agreed. Thu exchanged their numbers.

...........................................................

It was way after their initial plan for the lunch as YN was caught up with more last minute work. Even Carlos had some work with his new team. It wasn't until the mid December they got to meet again.

YN was at her home in Madrid for a solo vacation a like she planned at the start of the year. But they finally planned a date.

Yes, Carlos called it a date. A lunch date.

YN had planned a cute little outfit. It was white maxi dress and a few jewellery pieces from her own jewellery line. A cute little black bow holding her hair out of her face at the back of her head in an half up and half down and a pink lip to tie everything together. She wore a pair of sneakers as she was done wearing heels for the year.

It was nice and lowkey and local restaurant Carlos picked. Very calm and peaceful.

He looked gorgeous as always. In a crisp white button down shirt, beige trousers and brown pair of loafers. His hair still gorgeous.

"Hi." She greeted him.

"Hello!" He beamed. "Have a seat." He pulled a chair for her like a true gentleman and took a seat himself. "How have you been?"

"Oh good, busy but good. Thank you for asking!" She smiled. "What about you? How was the testing of new car?"

"Oh it's going good. We are working to improve it for the next season." Carlos started and soon they were approached by a waiter with the menu. "What would you like for a drink, red or white?"

"Oh no, I am fine with water. Still working on a few things, I don't drink when I am working." She declined his offer politely.

"Oh that's fine then." He smiled and called for the waiter and asked for just water who only seemed to speak Spanish and YN was subconscious about her abilities to speak the language.

"Can you order for me please?" She whispered leaning forward. "My Spanish is not at all good..."

He giggled, "of course I can!"

"Stop! I should have at least learned a few sentences before moving here!" She whined, "the only sentence I know is Hola, Soy Dora. Oh I hated that show growing up!" That made him laugh even more, her impression was spot on.

"Hey, at least you have a start." He could hold back his laugh. "Why did you hate the show?"

"Oh my manager at the time was a Satan's sister! She wouldn't let me watch order cartoons which I loved while I was on sets in between takes!" She rolled her eyes. "She thought the order shows were very disruptive."

"But you know one sentence in Spanish." He teased making her scoff in faux frustration.

"I am learning though. I am on day three of my Duo Lingo course." She laughed herself.

They had a great time together. They talked about their interests and Carlos taught YN some new terms in the sports. She shared she is on a hiatus for a year now and that she will not be working unless she feels urge to write new music, she will be just spending time by herself. Carlos shared what are his plans for Christmas with his family.

Alas he drove her back to her place as she mentioned she took a can to the restaurant.

“Here it is.” YN announced as they reached her house. “Thank you for taking me to lunch. I had great time.”

“Thank you for going out with me.” He smiled, “come on I’ll walk you to your door.”

YN did not deny his gesture. “Oh do you wanna come in for a cup of Chai?” She asked just to quickly retract her question. “Oh yes you’re coming in for a Chai.” She looked for her keys in her bag.

“Sure.”

“Oh just be aware I have three cats here with me. It’s time for their usual zoomies.” She gave him the subtle warning.

“No worries.” He smiled and waited for her to open the door.

As soon as she opened the door he saw two cats play fighting on the sofa and one drinking water from the little flower fountain.

“Tyson, Benji no!” YN shooed her cats away while she threw her purse on her coffee table. “Please have a seat I’ll get the Chai on the stove and get you water.”

Carlos waited for her patiently while she brought over two cups of tea and a teeny tiny bowl of sugar for him along with the tea, and a few snacks.

They chatted even more the topics ranging from sharing their vacation stories to talking about Formula 1 to talking about their favourite TV shows. Carlos found himself spending almost all of his evening there. Her cats were clung to him, she did mentioned they are all very friendly and aren’t scared of new people. To his dismay was so late she was insisting him to stay for dinner, like true Indian she is.

But he had to leave as she had a jam packed schedule the next day.

“Thank you for having me over and tea and snacks.” He mentioned as she walked him to the door.

“Mhmm.” She nodded as she watched him open the door. “Carlos?”

“Yeah?” He looked at her.

“Can we do this again?” She asked with a sheepish look on her face.

“Why not!” He smiled. She approached him for a hug which he gladly accepted.

“Please do text me when you safely reach home.” She insisted.

“I will.” He agreed as he reluctantly pulled away to look at her. “Is it fine if I kiss you?”

“Yeah.” She nodded. It did take him long to press his lips on hers in a gentle lingering kiss.

“I will text you.” He mumbled with his forehead on hers.

“Mhmm,” he sounded. They shared one more kiss before he was headed out and she shut the door.

She has a second date with him!