#im sorry every single song is about you

[scarlettmurphy]

STARCROSSED PT2 +ੈ✩‧₊˚ LOGAN HOWLETT.

logan and y/n — where you are completely in love with a man older then you’re father by a good century or so.. whose completely in love with another.

- content warning age gap (is legal) drinking. explicit. swearing. dirty humour. comfort (an ounce). drugs. nsfw. sick. body issues. sh. angst.. maybe happy endings?! pairings: older!logan howlett x xaiver!reader. logan howlett x jean grey.

spoiler: insane yearning and angst i’m sorry im too far gone ☹️ happy ? where.

note this is part two to starcrossed, prepare for even heavier angst!🫶🏻 i didn’t realise how sad this was until i finished the chapter and realised holy shit this is long. part three is already in the works. i hope u enjoy it! make sure to read pt1. it’s a bit diff from the first one but i hope u like it still. also if you’ve seen the movie ten things i hate about u the mid bit of this might remind u of that one scene if u get me :) song: need you now by lady a cos i was listening to it and jeff buckley whilst reading this? also on the timeline im going for like xmen 2 time i think?

tags — @faceache111 @malfoys-demigod @navs-bhat @dilfismz @thisbipuff-isaswiftie @twinky-wink @thewiselionessss @thecraziestcrayon @awhoreforalotofshows @emily-b @jae48 @cxptainbuck @444st4rg1rl 🫶🏻

[i hope you like it!!]

you’d absolutely love to believe that what you heard last night wasn’t what happened but as your mind goes over the previous night as you fought yourself to stay awake during your fathers little class your brain couldn’t forget the continuous moans and little yells that you heard from a few rooms across from your own at the mansion for a good hour or two last night. you can’t help but figure out that logan most certainly found jean and just thinking about it made you feel sick. scott being the main thing on your brain after you got over the fact logan most definitely fucked jean last night.

she was a cheater. what else could you expect? your thoughts swirling in your brain causing an indescribable amount of heart ache as you kept yourself completely quiet and withdrawn from whatever was going on in this lesson, rogue clearly being able to tell you were off as she glanced at bobby giving him a look you picked up on — him shrugging his shoulders in return as you cursed your sadness for being so obvious.

just the thought of jean and logan staring at eachother hurt you but her touching him, his hands over her skin, her lips on his, his mind only on her in that moment and his gaze locked into hers as she let him take her yet again enraged you to another level it was a struggle not to jump into his mind and find out exactly what happened but you couldn’t, you wouldn’t. your brain fighting with your heart in every way as you felt sick with all those pictures of the scenario you were forming for yourself.

so from that knowledge as you sat in class you knew you needed to stop liking him for good. he didn’t like you, he was throwing it in your face. you heard it all and it hurt you too much to bare. you didn’t even wanna look at him — that single thought of contact sending you crazy. you couldn’t even bring yourself to see him today. you didn’t want too, you couldn’t. seeing jean as you passed through the kitchen earlier was enough to make you nearly cry and immediately stop that tiny breakfast you had made.

you really couldn’t deal with this. one bit. you never did well with emotional pain — physical was something you could endure, yet emotional was always something you couldn’t stomach ever since you were a little girl.

+ੈ✩‧₊˚

you'd been avoiding him like the plague. literally. whenever you saw him at the end of the halls you'd turn the other away, force a little smile and act like you had somewhere to go if you were in conversation and it had been like that for two weeks. two weeks had passed since one of your normal conversations, the friendly chats you admired in your brain and made out to be more, the little touches he'd give you that you couldn't comprehend was only a friend thing to do, the way he'd hug you.. the deep conversations, the way he'd sometimes kiss your forehead before you left for bed, watching the rain together and just joking together all something you had put in the past. that had been gone for two weeks and to say it was breaking you would be an understatement.

you could tell others has noticed the practical borderline dissociation within you since you had been a little mute recently not that it was specially due to logan (it completely all was) but you didn't want it to be obvious, you hated that it could be perceived that way so you knew you had to do something about it. who knew heartache for one that didn't love you back could destroy you this badly from the inside out?

.. and today was no different on the logan front. you saw him once today in the halls ushering something to hank — the two in bustling conversation and you made sure not to risk it by going to class, to upset over it all to deal with another short horrible conversation where you were nothing but cold to him as you tried to cut down any romantic feelings you had for him. every time you spoke now you could see the confusion and frustration in his eyes, the mental image to much to bare as you went on hiding in your room and pondering and that’s where you had been since — buried in clothing choices as you tried to stomach down the anxiety that had been growing in you over the fact it was jeans birthday party today and you would have to make an appearance after you had been a hermit since you’d got your heart broken by a guy that didn’t even know. rogue and bobby being the only two people you had really spoke too since the shut down yet their concern had been growing annoying as rogue clearly told bobby about the little crush she could’ve guessed, and got out of you when the two of you were high together a few months ago, you had on logan. bobby actually giving you little options of guys you could date to get over someone which was all you needed to hear when you realised rogue had told him as he literally mentioned hank who they knew you recently hiked with since he had been bothering you over your melancholy, yet you had left before it was a full fledge little argument.

just the thought of having to socialise with him and the others and step out of the hole you’d built for yourself to hide in irritated you especially for jean of all people’s party, your ‘smidge’ of hatred for the woman who had really been rude to you since she’d known you not because of logan, because god on that front she wins and it feels like she’s married to him despite her ties to scott, but on the power front. she knew you had powers incomparable to hers that you hardly even showcased magneto being someone who taught you many things when you were younger, your own parents being raven and charles. of course you had powers which were indescribable.

and most of the time you wanted to use it on that bitch. you were lucky she couldn’t get into your twisted mind to find that fact out.

you let out a little sigh as you decided on the black mini skirt and sweater — you finally having an excuse for the fall outfit and lack of dress because it was october which has always been your favourite season and best time of year yet this year that didn’t apply because you haven’t been hardly able to enjoy it because of isolation you’d forced yourself into.

y/n had to swallow her own self pity down as she leaned over to her perfume bottle on the drawer next to her mirror as she took in the image of her body in the skirt. her shrinking body, a scoff leaving her lips as she wasn’t happy with what she saw in the reflection. she never could be. the aroma of the perfume not masking her feelings at all as she put on some dc martens paired with black tights. the perfect little outfit yet she was sure jean would be outshining her on that front. god she didn’t even wanna imagine logan’s eyes being locked onto jean tonight, the heart ache already unbearable to comprehend as she swallowed a lump that formed in her throat. that aching feeling hadn’t gone away since the start of knowing logan the way she did, maybe that was a sign from the people above about how destined it was.. or how not it was.

these muddled thoughts led her too some early drinking as if she wouldn’t be getting shitfaced later. pregaming alone which is a bit self pity full as she swallowed the burning liquor down her throat, the whiskey hitting her softly and slowly enough to give her the confidence to leave her room twenty minutes later for this party.

+ੈ✩‧₊˚

the decorations were perfect, the present corner was overflowing and the students and people were everywhere. jean being clearly the popular girl from the looks of this party, as if y/n already didn’t know that, as the blasting music just made her more aware of the scenario she was in as she fought the urge to look around the room for logan as she went straight over to the bar that had been made. the party was the perfect one a girl, woman, could ask for and y/n could feel the jealously bubbling already that she bit down as she forced a friendly smile to join her lips.

walking through the dancing groups of people, there hardly even being any spaces to walk unless you wanted to bump into a coked up or insanely drunk teenager or wade. who she was lucky to get past without having to talk to yet, no matter how much she did like and enjoy his company she couldn’t deal with his jokes right now which she could guess who’d they’d be centered around, she knew he knew to some extent she was just lucky he hadn’t out rightly said it. that would be too much pity for her to deal with, that coming from wade being another level of pathetic.

the second she leant against the bar she managed to grab the busy barmaids attention giving her a soft nod and polite smile as she didn’t notice the figure beside her as she asked for a coke and vodka.

“thank god you’re showing your face — i thought i was going to have to clone you to get a good conversation.” hank rolled out his tipsiness showing as he pulled y/n into a tight hug when he was sat down on the stool. y/n letting out a low chuckle as she hugged him back nicely, his presence being a little surprise she tried not to seem so bothered about.

“hiya hank.” y/n said softly as the barmaid came over with her drink, placing it next to her. “thanks.” y/n nodded out as hank placed his hand on the stool next to him as she immediately grabbed it and took a swig.

“come! sit.” he ushered in with a drunken smile on his face, a bright one as usual, as he patted the bar stool next to him inviting her to sit and before y/n could even speak up in reply as she slid down on the stool hank bit in.

“where the hell have you been?” he abruptly said bluntly, putting a little look on his face off one that’s pissed off as y/n felt the guilt rush through her as she wrapped her fingers around the glass drowning her truth in the drink as she took a big sip off the liquor acting as if that didn’t taste appalling as she shrugged her shoulders at hanks obvious question which has an obvious answer to that she’d play off as a stupid claim if questioned about it.

“—i’ve been busy! controlling powers— small missions, and that.” y/n lied out.

hank furrowed his eyebrows at his words, giving her a knowing look before he shook his head swiftly at what she said. seeing right through her little lie he truly knew nothing much about what the truth was or not as he took a little sip of his beer.

“i know you but i’m not pushing it— rather you bite of logan’s heads rather then mine.” hank said out lowly as y/n’s eyebrows furrowed at his comment as a look of confusion spread over her face at the mention of him but before she could question hank on it she was met with two hands around her waist, pulling her tightly back purposely.

“hello pretty little liars, you’re aria?” wade said loudly into her ear his drunkenness obvious as y/n scoffed, him clearly stating that because her outfit choice as he squeezed her even tighter y/n’s eyes rolling as she elbowed him playfully back as his hands on her faltered as he playfully shoved her back.

“—elsa! you made it snow yet?” y/n said back to him as she was met with the sound of his laughter as he pulled on the stool next to y/n, making the guy who was sat on it mutter a curse before wade sent him a glare and then went speed walking away clearly a boy as young as fourteen or thirteen who just got the shit scared out him for, wade’s harsh look as he sqt down on the stool as he met y/n’s gaze.

“you know i have honey.” he nodded out with a smirk as hank leaned into the twos space.

“shots anyone?” hank rolled out, fixing his glasses as wade enthusiastically said a quick yes, y/n adding to the fire. “—very much needed.” y/n drove out as wade sent her a little look of knowing yet he held back the urge to call her out on it. he was being a ‘good’ friend in his eyes anyway, he didn’t wanna hear her say things about logan when he knew a few things himself on how the other party felt.

hank calling the barmaid over as wade pulled y/n’s stool closer to his that knowing look still present on his face as he played with the knowledge he had a bit just in a little playful way.

“you seen the birthday girl yet?..gave her a gift?” wade said sarcastically knowing the two didn’t really see eye to eye on a LOT of things as y/n gave him a little glare, him having been present for many of their little disagreements.

“luckily i haven’t, as i’ve brung nothing.” y/n rumbled back as wade nudged her playfully with her words as hank grabbed the tray of shots from the barmaid— y/n’s eyes widening once she saw how many shots he had ordered. “fifteen?” y/n broke out with a raised eyebrow as hank chuckled as he took one, downing it straight away before grabbing another as wade spoke up cockily.

“who’s pants are you trying to get into?” wade rolled out, his voice sly as he grabbed two for himself as y/n leaned over and took one ready to get shitfaced, maybe that’d stop her mind from falling back onto logan every other second her longing heart internally hating this situation more and more as she yearned to see him but she bit back the urge to even look around for him. halting that urge by taking a shot.

“preferably anyone with a pulse and no dick between their legs.” hank said right as y/n took another shot, her nearly choking on the burning liquid which was a horrible mix of vodka and god knows what.

“i can tuck.” wade said lowly as this made it worse, y/n nudging wade, shaking her head as she held back her laugh as she swallowed the shot she just took. “disgusting!” she rolled out as she took another, downing it before placing the shot down on the table.

“ah! sweeties jealous.” wade spoke up sarcastically with that all familiar cocky smile on his face with that teasing glint in his eyes as he handed another shot y/n’s way as she took it gracefully as they all cheersed their glasses together. that being just one of the about eight times they did that within the next thirty to sixty minutes as y/n bit back her thoughts with copious amounts of shots and soon enough they had gone through a good four or so tray off shots and a few drinks each.

every passing minute y/n felt her mind get closer and closer to the edge as every time she felt that aching feeling grow she’d swallow it back with another sip of liquor or large shot — wades jokes passing the time and hanks yapping and her own occasional drunken chime in making her mind a mess as hank got another row of shots.

the songs and wade and hank’s voices becoming a blur in y/n’s mind as she swallowed nothing but the truth with those shots. every sip feeling like more heartache she couldn’t stop having.

+ੈ✩‧₊˚

y/n was practically stuck too the bar stool, her eyes scanning the crowd occasionally (by occasionally around five times if not more a minute) as she looked for him. her mind lingering on a certain someone as it always tended to do the liquor just amplifying those feelings as hank spoke up.

“you know— you look like your mum.”

his words caused y/n’s attention to snap over to hank as she raised an eyebrow, wade making a little ‘oo’ in the background even if he couldn’t help but agree with his comment as he sipped on the cocktail he had ordered a few drinks previously that had just been laying there on the side. the bartender making a fuck ton of profit from these three miserables.

“very dead?” y/n said sarcastically as hank gave her a little look — clearly a little annoyed she didn’t take the comment seriously as he leaned a little closer to her.

“beautiful you idiot.” hank added out, his words making her eyebrows furrow a bit as she took in his drunken words as she gave him a little a smile — swallowing the depreciating joke she was close to making as she took a sip of her drink.

“thank you hank.” y/n nodded out calmly as wade butted in.

“—fucking hell, incoming for angry jacob twilight wannabe.” wade cursed out as y/n’s gaze moved over wade following his eyes to where he was looking, her heart feeling as if it was flipping and twisting in her chest as she watched logan walk into the bar games room as she furrowed her eyebrows at the sight of jean following him angrily. her looking perfect as ever.

yet before y/n could think another thought she locked eyes with logan from across the room — their eyes meeting as she felt a weight lift immediately onto her as she swallowed a lump that formed in her throat at just the sight of him. it felt as if time has frozen just as they looked to each other , his eyes taking everything about her in as she did the same his way.

he practically immediately walked over, more like stomped over, as he seemed clearly agitated. more then usual as his eyes dawned onto wade and hank before resting back to y/n as he stopped in his tracks in front of the seated three.

“who thought getting a teenager shitfaced was a good idea?” logan nearly growled out, giving wade a glare as y/n’s eyes lingered back on jean who saw who he was talking to and turned away her being even more pissed then him, y/n holding the urge to go into her mind and find out why as she brung her gaze onto logan after seeing jean walk off somewhere else in the room, her patience clearly wearing thin. her wanting to make a little childish comment about how she wasn’t when wade spoke up.

“gods probably.” wade rolled out in reply as logan scoffed at what he said.

“y/n.” logan said, her eyes meeting his own as she took in his appearance. her eyes lingering on the chain that was wrapped around his neck — one he told her was something jean gave him when he first became an xmen, something he hasn’t worn in months, this fact only making her feel a number of horrible thoughts as she grabbed her drink and took a mean swig. swallowing her own building self pity as she forced a fake smile logan immediately knew to be fake.

“hi.” she said swiftly after she put her drink back down on the table — his eyebrow raising a little at her hostility as he looked to wade, hank the back to her.

“uh—“ logan spoke up, trying to find the words to say as he looked at her a bit lost for words at how she was acting as he swallowed a lump that had formed in his throat — feeling his frustration rise as he tried to control it, “where have you been?” he said lowly, hank raising his eyebrow at how this little conversation seemed weirdly tension filled. wade knew why, he could’ve called her little feelings for him back when she first met the guy but now he couldn’t help see how serious it was because off the way she was looking at him and how it was affecting her.

he couldn’t even brung himself to but in as he buried himself in his drink. hank doing the same.

“i’ve been busy. but i’ve been around— i saw you two days ago.” she said quickly, shifting in her seat a little as his eyes almost felt as if they burnt through her.

“you didn’t stay,” he said taking a pause as he looked at her, taking in just how intoxicated she seemed as he tried to analyse it, “like you uh- normally, do.”

his words touched a nerve on y/n as she felt that all familiar heart ache grow y/n trying to act as if the feeling inside her wasn’t killing her right now and ripping her to shreds as she kept her gaze on him, his eyes on her making her think and feel a number of things she hated.

“—had somewhere to be.” she replied quickly, his eyebrows raising at her bluntness to her reply as he knew something was off. he sensed it, the drunkness only adding to his worry as he went to step closer when he was cut off by a voice behind him.

y/n eyes dawned on the sight off jean, a tight silver dress on showcasing her curves as her red hair flowed down by her side as she looked at logan who hadn’t even brung himself to met her gaze yet. y/n immediately being hit with a truck load of insecurities just with a glance to the older women who had the only guy she’d ever loved wrapped around her finger.

y/n’s heart feeling as if it was stepped on as she kept her gaze on him — time feeling a little slow motion.

“logan—now.” jean said harshly.

“lo- logan.” she said again, y/n not leaving logan’s gaze as he swallowed his own spit as he eventually brung his gaze over to jean.

“logan— he knows.” she said harshly, her words a little quiet as they were clearly just meant for logan’s ears yet y/n heard them. “now! come on?” she questioned out frustratedly, saying that to grip his attention as logan looked to jean then back to y/n, wade and hank watching like it was a drama.

the air felt thick with some sort of something as y/n swallows, her eyes on him as he bit down on the inside of his cheek.

“be careful kid, remember to slow down.” he rolled out before he turned away with jean going right to her side as y/n scoffed as he walked off turning her attention back to the barmaid — not feeling logan’s eyes burning back to her as he took a long glance her way before disappearing off with jean into the party to sort whatever was happening.

y/n rolled her eyes the second she turned her attention back over to the bar as she looked down at the bar table, swallowing her thoughts down with the rest of her vodka as she felt the others eyes on her. they sensed on the tension — it was impossible not too.

“so they’re fucking again.” hank commented lowly and cluelessly. his words being like a gut punch to y/n as she bit down on her tongue as she called back over the barmaid, leaning over and ordering a couple shots as she sat back down in her seat.

“mm, most definitely.. hell for scott.” wade ushered out lowly, feeling a sense of guilt as he saw the way y/n’s eyes fell as y/n tried to mute out their conversation in the background as she welcomed the shots with open arms as she pulled the tray closer to her as she heard wade and hank whisper behind her as they leant over to gossip about the rumours of jean and scott being over as y/n’s heart felt as if it was plummeting and beating as fast as it ever had with every shot she took. the information she was hearing just making her internal pain grow worse as she tried to drink it away every shot seemingly enhancing her hurt as the metal images she were getting hurt her brain as she felt the urge to do something about it.

her mind full of relentless unlimited thoughts that were screaming at her as she placed the last empty shot glass she had down — the shots helping limit the voices to some extent as the barmaid came over and refilled them without another word most likely sensing her anguish as y/n nodded to her with as much of a smile she could muster up as she thought back to the conversation with logan.

“we’re going to dance— you coming?” wade spoke to y/n as that brung her out her gaze with the bottom of the shot glass as she shook her head, “no—thanks,” she slurred out as hank gave her a small nod and pat on the shoulder before they disappeared of into the crowd leaving her alone after saying their be right backs— her lips immediately around another glass as she finished the rest of the drinks thay were laid out in front-of her.

y/n either needed fresh air and a sick bucket or the man she loved and craved, and she was going with the latter. her desires only heightened which was making just about everything worse due to the mess the alcohol had started to cause her brain and body.

her heart pounding as she stood up, everything going messy and spin like as she stumbled through the crowd. her mind on one thing and one thing only, one person, as she got pushed around a bit by the dancing people as she made her way out the bar room she was in. her eyes searching the place as she looked for him in every corner, in every face, every person, every laugh, every grunt and every noise. she was searching for him like she had been doing within her heart ever since she’d know the man.

yet what she didn’t expect to see when she turned the corner was him right there. logan right there in his bubble of perfection as she saw it. her eyes taking him in as she saw him in the hallway — a smile joining her lips as she started to walk over to him planning what she was going to say in her brain. how she was going to do any of this? she didn’t even know what she had planned, she just wanted to speak to him. she needed to see his smile. she missed it. she wanted to make him laugh like usual, she wanted to kiss him, feel his touch. she needed it, it was destroying her to not have him. why was she ignoring him for the past two weeks? she should just tell him. nothing bad could hap—

“mine.” she swore she could make out logan saying, her eyebrows furrowing in pure confusion as she took one little step closer to where he was as her eyes dawned on a certain red head with a killer smirk on her lips as she had a tight grip on his chain.

and with that every thought she just had was crushed within the space of five or so seconds as she heard jean’s light hearted chuckle next, her voice grating against y/n’s mind as she swallowed her own spit back down as she made sure she couldn’t be seen by them. feeling the sick feeling rising in her as she watched logan’s hands wrap around jean’s waist as she pulled him closer to her in a teasing action that broke y/n’s heart in two.

she was frozen in her tracks, watching as the one she loved was with the one he loved.

“you’re mine.” ringing in her ears as she just made out what he had said to jean as his words sent a chill through y/n’s body as she felt the tears start to boil in her eyes as she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the scene. her mouth fallen gap as she watched as he roughly had her against the door jean’s hand going down to the handle of said door as y/n watched as jean pulled him in the room with her roughly.

the door slamming behind them as she felt her beating out her chest, her breath shaky and hitched as she swallowed.

and when she heard a little squeal come from the room over the music a few seconds or minutes later, she couldn’t tell how long had passed, that’s when she knew she needed to go before she turned into a public laughing stock as she turned on her heel — shakily making her way through the crowd again, unbeknownst to the tears dropping down her cheeks as she fought her way through the dancing crowd as she tried to get the hell out of here as she thought she was fighting back her emotions, yet she really wasn’t doing too good of a job with it.

“watch it!” someone yelled out over the music to y/n as she shuffled past them quickly, stumbling out and disappearing through the back door as she made her break for it. her heart feeling broken to an extreme it hadn’t felt before which was only amplified by the alcohol as she felt her brain chemistry formed for logan be destroyed within a matter of moments. seeing it in front of her own eyes being completely different from assuming it had happened.

the fact they were doing that right now she just couldn’t and didn’t want too comprehend it. it hurting her so much she felt as if she was going to be sick, she could feel it to the extremist point that when she managed her way to the end of the courtyard where her little spot was with her childhood swing set, where she’s surprised she even remembered the whereabouts off in this state, she couldn’t stop herself from leaning down into a bush shakily.

her mouth watering, her throat burning with liquid as y/n threw up into the bush her heart pounding ridiculously as she felt the tears burning against her cheek as she didn’t even notice the feeling off two strong hands holding her hair back. her body shaking as she kept being sick, feeling the acid burn her throat as she felt a strong hand round her hair pulling it into a ponytail and another hand around her fragile body to keep her up.

her body flinching a little at the touch as the person leaned a little closer as y/n was sick some more, “it’s okay—“ a low voice ushered out as y/n couldn’t help be sick again, leaning down closer into the bush nearly tripping into it as the person held her upright. their hand snacking onto her waist as y/n leaned back into their touch. basically tripping into it as she let out a shaky breath as she wiped her mouth with the sleeve of her top.

her eyes moving up onto an all familiar face and she instantly cursed in her brain as he managed to move her over to the swings, sitting her down in one of two seats as she clung to the chain of it leaning her body against it freely as she let out a little cry.

“you’re good.” scott said softly his voice low as he spoke into a comforting tone that didn’t completely soothe her as she felt the tears trail down her cheek as he kneeled down — his hands stabilising the swing that was rocking a little as he looked up at her making sure she was okay on the swing. the cold air hitting the twos faces as the moon shone down on the courtyard, the faint sound of pop music from the mansion being completely distant to both of them.

“scott.” she managed to say, him being able to tell how far gone she was by the way she slurred her words as if her crying and throwing up didn’t prove that enough. his eyes on her as he moved her hair out the way for her, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear as she held back a little sob which wasn’t held back that well as she let out a shaky whimper.

“w-why— doesn-t he love me?” she spoke out quickly, her breath shaky and her voice high pitched as she let out little sniffles in between words, the weight of those making a sad smile tug on scott’s lips as he kept his hand on her face trying to keep her upright which was sort of impossible as he kept his comforting warm hand against her face. just trying to make her feel okay.

“—he—“ scott cut himself off before he moved closer to her, trying to keep her calm, “he does love you okay?”

y/n shook her head at scott’s words as she let out a muffled sob against her wrist, shaking her head as scott wiped the tears from her cheeks. “not like i want him to.” she rolled out in a slur, scott feeling his heart beat quicken at her little admission as if he didn’t know how she felt over him before as he moved his finger across her cheek in a soft circular motion, his hand cupping her jaw.

“hey- he does okay?” scott said quickly as he moved her jaw down so she met his eyes again, his tone soft as he moved himself to the other swing next to her — the second he was sat him moving his swing closer to her own. tangling the chains of his swing up a little in doing so.

“he does.” scott added out again, y/n not believing him at all as she swallowed a lump that had formed in her throat as she leaned herself again the hand that was cupping her face as she nearly tumbled off the swing.

her biting down on her tongue as she let out a little squeal as scott placed his hand on her back supporting and holding her up as a little chuckle left her lips as she leaned forward a little. scott not letting his hand move as worry was evident on his face as y/n turned to him a sad smile on her lips, tears still evident on her face.

“i wish.” he heard her whisper as he swallowed, his own voice breaking a little, “come on. okay? he doesn’t know what he’s missing right now.— he doesnt see you liking him.” scott said softly, giving her a little playful nudge as y/n started to lose the energy to even speak off it as she felt another tear slip down her cheek.

his words were taking the weight off her shoulders as she moved in the swing a little, scott’s comforting hand on her back which was now sort off around her waist making her sure she wasn’t going to fall as she moved a tiny bit closer to him on her swing. their swings touching a little.

“you deserve better then jean-y bitch.” she managed out lowly, scott not being able to help the chuckle that escaped his lips at how she put it as he looked out at the mansion in front of them. the moon present in his red tinted glasses.

“yeah— i’m starting to realise that.” he chuckled out as y/n gave him a drunken smile in return as she locked eyes with scott. someone she’d hardly noticed was this nice mostly due to the words logan remarked about him all the time as her smile couldn’t help but grow as she looked at him. the air softening between the two as y/n felt tiredness fall over her as she leant against the chains a little as she slowly moved her gaze over to the moon.

a few moments of silence passes before scott spoke up.

“y/n?” scott managed out trying to grab her attention as he saw he eyes wondering a bit. his eyebrows furrowing when he heard no answer in return, her silence scaring him as he nudged her.

“y/n?” he quickly said out once again, nudging her a little as he saw how limp her body was and noticed her closed eyes.

“fuck— y/n.” he ushered out quickly as he stood from his seat and went right to her side as he kneeled down, tapping her face to try and catch her attention. y/n stirring a little at his action as he stood up, pulling her up with him as he placed his hand around her waist as he tried to shake her a little which did the job as her eyes fluttered open to meet his own.

a drunken smile joining on her lips as a tear dropped down her cheek that she didn’t even notice as she chuckled a little, leaning close to him as she swayed a little.

“scott.” she said lowly as scott gave her a low chucke as she placed her arm around him drunk on, him wiping the tear of her cheek softly something he’d done a number of times since being in her presence tonight.

“okay it’s time to go sleep— im taking you to bed.” he explained softly as y/n looked at him with a little furrowed brow as he started to walk, helping her walk alongside him her hardly even able to realise she was walking as she leaned against his touch.

“you’re good.” he said calmly to her as they walked through the dark courtyard, the illuminated by the moon field of grass between them and the bustling school /xmansion being the only light to guide them. his grip on her tightening softly when she nearly tripped over her own feet, a low chuckle escaping his lips as he realised just how long of a walk it was to the mansion. him sighing as he held her upright. “nearly there.” he muffled out as y/n leaned to him.

“—‘m gonna be sick.” she quickly flushed out before throwing her head over in the other direction as scott patted her back and stopped in his tracks at her words as she was sick again — him holding the urge got to be sick too because the smell as he focused on helping her. his heart skipping a beat bit as he felt his anger growing over logan putting her in this situation where she was so drunk she was being sick or the fact that she was being sick just thinking about logan it made his blood boil as he felt his jaw clench — his eyebrows twitching as he helped her get it all out, whispering little comforts as he soothed her back.

“good girl. “ he said lowly as y/n brung her gaze into him once more him giving her a small sad smile as he placed his hand back around her waist to guide her, “cmon, bed.” he whispered out to her as they started walking again. having to go through the party definitely going to be a difficult task as scott tightened his grip around her waist as they walked past a couple people hanging around the outside area of the building as the music met y/n’s ears as once they got into the building scott called for people to move out the way as he made y/n stay close to him. her eyes wondering over everyone in her drunken haze as scott helped her over to the staircase which was through a couple wide, filled rooms.

her swearing she came across wade and hank in the corner with two twins and colossus’s doing a certain something to wade, her eyebrows furrowing at what she believed to have just seen as she shook it off as she met scott’s words.

“you need to be carried or are you okay?” scott asked as if he was babying her which sent a wave of comfort through her body as she let the question hang in her brain as she tried to form answer to it as she leaned herself against scott.

“‘u—‘i can—“

“scarlett?” logan roughly called out in a raised voice towards scott as he came over out of nowhere. scott rolling his eyes as he quickly picked y/n up, y/n being in scott’s arms as her eyes fluttered open to see logan to the side of them. scott’s jaw immediately clenching as he continued up the stairs without cracking a word to logan as he rushed after the pair. his own anger frustratingly high as he tried to control himself and stop himself from doing anything stupid.

“scott?” logan said harshly, his anger growing as he didn’t get an answer as he tried to get the man to look at him.

“lo-“ y/n slipped out, her voice muffled as she leaned into scott’s arms more as he carried her bridal style up the stairs. her realising his presence, logan’s eyes casting onto y/n and then back to scott. his eyes darkening.

“what have you done to her?!” logan rushed out, his voice cracking with worry as scott ignored his words as he made it to the top of the stairs and continued on down to where he’s pretty sure her room is.

“scott!” logan shouted again trying to get his attention as scott opened the door with his back, giving logan a harsh glare as he walked right over to the bed where he placed y/n down carefully on it. her drunken self pouring the cover over her figure as she rolled over in bed. letting out a little muffled whimper as her head laid on the pillow.

the second scott having let go off y/n he immediately turned to logan scott not giving logan another chance to talk before he connected his fist with his jaw, logan been taken aback a little as he raised an eyebrow, scott looking right at him as logan pushed him back harshly.

“what the fuck did you do?” logan cursed out quickly, scott scoffing as he held back taking his glasses off because of the fact it was a party, not logan’s funeral even despite how much he wanted it to be.

“you should ask yourself that, prick.” scott said harshly. logan’s eyebrows raising at his words as scott pushed himself past logan without another word.

logan immediately grabbing scott’s arm harshly, his claws aching to come out as he met his gaze.

“what do you mean by that?” logan said quickly, his eyes locked onto scott’s as so many questions flowed his brain. his thoughts enlaced with y/n and the worry he had for the girl as scott harshly brung his hand back to his side after shaking logan’s grip off — giving logan a stern look as he looked him up and down judgementally, “god, you are so stupid. you’d think being born in the 19th century would make you slightly smarter then a twenty nine year old.” scott scoffed out lowly, his words only angering logan more as he shoved scott against the wall.

his claws extending as he pressed them close to his throat — his threat there as scott swallowed.

“tell me.” he said harshly as scott couldn’t help a certain look cross his face. completely frustrated by logan, his heart aching for jean in this moment as he stared at what she had clearly picked over himself that enraging him yet also y/n and what she had just gone through herself. the heart ache something he could relate too and he wouldn’t wish that on anyone. yet right now he would logan however.

“she saw you and jean you idiot. meaning i did too. meaning— fuck you.” scott said quickly as he clicked his visor getting the right aim, logan jumping back as scott lazered his chest. his beam going right through as a loud grunt escaped his lips as logan in immediate retaliation clawed scott in the side, scott pushing back the whimper threatening to leave his lips as logan as he got ready to take another shot at the man.

logan raising his eyebrow as the two stared eachother down, “i’ll heal,” logan rolled out his words only angering scott worse as he went to raise his glasses again as logan roughly placed his hand on his chest to stop him, his claws retracted back in.

“i wish you wouldn’t.” scott bit out harshly as logan scoffed at his words, keeping his anger limited as he rolled his eyes.

“jean only needed someone to talk too—“

“you mean fuck.” scott said out harshly, jean crossing logan’s mind as his jaw clenched his gaze darkening as he couldn’t bring himself to shake his head. not that he was thinking about scott’s feelings — right now his mind pondering on another.

scott saw how logan couldn’t even fight back with words — tutting as he pushed him back. logan’s hands falling to his side as the two didn’t break eye contact.

“you know we’re engaged.” scott spit out like venom, his words causing a look of surprise to wash over logan’s face as his mouth fell open, “well we were.” he added out.

“you were— what?” logan fumbled out, confusion written on his face as scott rolled his eyes at his reaction. not that he cared deep down, but it felt like he did right now.

“great.. she didn’t tell you. like she didn’t tell anyone,” he said lowly, “not that it makes it any better what you’ve done,” scott casted out as a few seconds finding passed as he tried to find the words which only come out anger filled, “she’s a caniving cheating bitch.” scott cursed out, logan not bringing himself to react to the words scott ushered about jean as he looked at scott.

logan was about to say something to scott when the sound of y/n’s soft little snores filled the room which made the tension even higher as scott and logan glared at eachother.

“maybe just think next time before you fuck someone else’s girl, again.” scott managed out as he pushed past logan to leave the room.

“i don’t think she’s your girl.” logan called back out before he left as scott’s jaw clenched at his words as he opened the door.

“not anymore. you can have her.” he said harshly as he paused as he knew he had to say something.

“—just think about how y/n feels, because i know hurts.” scott spoke lowly as he left without another word clearly implying a certain fact.

logans heart skipped a beat at his words as the door shut behind scott, his mind feeling as if it was in a war as the tension built in the room immediately. the air feeling thick as he swallowed his own spit not bringing himself to call something back to him as his words couldn’t even bring themselves to form right in his brain yet alone out loud.

his eyes dawned back onto the sleeping girl y/n laying there. looking so soft and innocent, completely sound asleep and his heart couldn’t help twang a little as he bit down on the inside of his cheek — many bustling thoughts cursing his brain as he wished he had never thought of them.

his mind lingering on the thought of jean and what just occurred within him and scott as he came down from the pain that was inflicted on him his chest rising rapidly to a more normal flow as he healed. as he focused his gaze on y/n as he furrowed his eyebrows over what scott had said, trying to wrap his brain around it.

logan’s eyes dawning on y/n. guilt seeping through him as he felt his heart gain that aching feeling y/n had been riddled with since the day she first realised she was in love with the man as he sat on the foot of the bed. his mind feeling melted as he placed his hand on her own his big, gruff and rough feeling hand taking the soft touch of her hand into his own grip. her hand being half if not less of his size as he soothed her. her touch being another level of comfort he didn’t recall experiencing since he was a young boy that feeling sending memories flooding through his brain he couldn’t focus on now.

feeling all the emotions boiling up he’d been fighting to push down as he looked down at her asleep body. what was all of this? she had been distant, almost rude and very cold and scott’s words were making that why question he had on his mind for the past two weeks clearer.

the implication of scott’s words hung in his mind as he looked at her. him eventually bringing himself over to the spare place next to her in the bed not wanting to leave her alone for the night too worried about how drunk she was and if anything could happen in the night.. or anyone else drunkily walking in. but he couldn’t help deep down in knowing that those were just excuses to stay within her presence. asleep or not.

carefully building a gap between the two of them as he laid down — no matter how strong the urge to hug her and comfort her was — as he let out a rough exhale as he closed his eyes.

only to open them three seconds later to look at her. his eyes not leaving her peacefully asleep body for the rest of the night.

[sapphiccup]

Smoking out the window...

Pairing: Stoner Vi x reader

Word count: 23,000 Plus.. I GOT CARRIED AWAY I KNOW I THOUGHT IT WOULD BE SHORTER BUT THE DEMONS! MDNI MYGOD! NSFWAHEAD

Cw: Weed, Strong language, Banter, Fluff, sexual Banter, Tension, Perverts, Lingering eyes, Gay asf, Lesbian yearning/pining, Neck kisses, Rough sexual adventures, High Reader, High Violet, Consent is hot, oral, penetration, intercourse, fingering, Lots of lube was used in this fic,Switch Vi, Switch Reader, Dom Reader, Sub Reader I think? Sub Vi, DomVi, Making out, Lots of foreplay, Anal oral, vaginal oral, anal fingering both receiving 🌟 Tribbing, Starvation smutt, Lots and lots of dirty talking, till night til dawn kinda lust, Backshots to oblivion, Did I say strap already? The gays are fucking on all the furniture oh nooo.. (me next like tf?) , Riding faces, Tongue fucking, Thigh humping, Humping with clothes on, and after care. Tooth rotting fluff IM SORRY!!!! Message me if I missed anything <3

Summary: Chilling at home alone until a certain someone shows up at your door. A bag of weed and a hot lesbian? What could go wrong? You and Vi begin with a simple goal in mind: smoke sesh. Until things start getting more intense. Will Vi and you make it out as friends after this particular smoke session? or become more.. ? let’s find out!

Dc!:@/cafekitsune

Song: Smoke by Victoria Monet ft Lucky Daye🍀

ᥫ᭡

You were sitting on your couch chilling in your apartment listening to your r&b playlist. The music poured into your ears, a woman and a man singing about one of your favorite things to experience. Fuzzied socks on your feet, resting on your oval-shaped coffee table, some scattered decorative clutter to the side of your cute bear designed socks, slightly moving them away from the collected clutter.  Carefully trying to not knock anything over for the tenth time today. You tilt your head back, really getting into those comfy cushions of yours, letting notes of the song carry you into a state of pure white clouds floating into the sky. However a thought gnaws on your wrinkled brain, thinking that these beats would feel even better with some thc in your system. And speaking of the “devil’s grass”

A knock at the door, perks your senses. You groaned as you pushed yourself off of your couch.

This better be good. 

Sauntering your way over to your door, opening it, revealing a Violet holding a bag of weed and that famous smirk of hers. 

Oh, this is good!

The way it stretches her scar on her lip, like it's an invisible spell that blows your way every time. Making you fly higher than any green substance has entered your dna. “So.. I’m growing a new strain..—“ like second nature she takes your hand, thumbing circles over your knuckles “I think you might like this one better.” She says, though not into your eyes, your lips quirking into a smile. You are in luck that she chose to gaze at your knuckles instead so you could peer at her lashes, they remind you of violin strings, with each bat it felt like a personal symphony, fluttering into your ears. This lovely symphony that made those lobes of yours mirror flowers, blooming for her. You’d tug at your hair with a single finger, a strand of hair from opposite sides weep reflecting like a weeping willow tree, to hide them from her.. Can’t let her know you’re bursting with glee inside. 

“Oh yeah? It must be the best if it’s coming out of that mouth.” 

“What do you know about my mouth, babe?” She asked with an arched brow, sprinkled with a playful grin as she entered your house, shutting the door behind her with her foot. 

“Many things..” you respond, taking a step back, watching her take her shoes off, still haven’t broken eye contact. “Mhm—“ her eyes mapped out your body language, more like studying if you’re trying to do other things than just smoke today, from the way you usually get so nervous by her. She just takes it as you trying to be cocky. And she would be right any other day, however this time nervous fails to grab you by its clutches.

“Yeah, go ahead and sit down while I get us ready for this blunt.” You obviously obeyed, but not unless you had some control which prompts you to give her more of a hint, swaying your hips a bit because you know she is always watching. And yes she is completely in a daze watching your ass twitch a bit with every step. You were wearing flared leggings that cupped your ass and especially those curves of yours in all the right ways, and a cute tank top with noodle like straps barely being able to contain those pretty tits of yours. If wills of temptation could shatter, Vi's has hers teetering off the shelf. Blinking twice for her to get back to reality.  You plop back down on the couch, shifting your body around to lay on your stomach, getting a better look of Vi entering your kitchen. Such an obsessed person you are,  though who can blame you with trying to see more of Violet. She knows that she’s sexy and she knows that you know, so she doesn’t even tell you to stop gawking. 

As you watch Vi make the both of you some snacks,  setting up some cups for a couple of drinks for none other than the usual cottonmouth. You absentmindedly play with your nails, joyed that you pampered them this morning.  Of course, this positive thought is only because you’re about to smoke with Vi.. it’s hard prepping blunts with long nails for you. 

“What’s this new strain called?”  You inquire her.

She digs into the fridge, grabbing some condiments, the clicks and clatter of some glass jars bumping into each other, cradling her acquired set up for her preferred sandwiches in her carefully crafted arms. Those same arms that are peaking through her white t-shirt, that isn’t too short or too long over her grey joggers. I guess she wanted to be comfortable today with you being 420 of all days.  But, back to those arms.. they should be illegal to look that damn good, the way you can tell she just got a good pump in before arriving at your house! Those veins, and the way her biceps are so prominent, good gods..  I mean, literally how can someone make muscles look that good and she’s not even doing anything to make them visible right now. She’s simply just making sandwiches, (and you could literally watch all day if you could) but the way she has no choice except to squeeze them a bit or else the items she holds will fall. You wish you were the items instead, headlocked while-

“Noble Pineapple”  she replies, setting down her array of sandwich preparations, breaking you out of a thought that barely had a chance to form. 

“We smokin’ some royal Pineapple kush?” 

“Yes ma’am.”  She answers in a sing-song voice, that has you letting out a small chuckle. “Let me guess you, made up the name this time.” 

“No-no, this was not my idea, I argued with my sister about this for 2 days, and we decided to combine it to stop-“  Vi pauses to stare at you, like you are fully listening to her dumb little rant, and she just bites her lip down. You’re just laying there on the couch, head settled in your cute soft palms, hair messy, still managing to look that good, her heart skipped a beat, cursing in her head that she shouldn’t have shifted her gaze to you. Sitting there all patiently waiting for her, gods.. 

 Every time she stops to look in your eyes it’s like air rips out of her, sending her heart into a frenzy, the curve of your eyes, the color it resembles, the way you’re so focused on her, it makes her jumbled with a highway of fast pasting emotions. Not being able to keep up with only one. 

She just keeps repeating Pretty,Pretty,Pretty, so fucking pretty. In her head like a broken record that refuses to play smooth correct music, in fact you make her vocal cords form into a broken record. The first time she caught onto the fact that your pretty eyes made her flip around her words no matter how hard she tried to be coherent it didn’t matter. Her mouth and her brain refused her to be coherent when she sees you walk on by, or even sharing eye contact. She made a vow to herself to just completely stop talking so you won’t hear her babble. Terrified she’d make a fool of herself in front of you risking to sweep all of this confident spell off of herself. That you see her as. 

“Go on” you encouraged her, and god would she love it if you encouraged her some more, though she would fear her boxers would be drenched if you said it just a bit slower.

She blinks twice again, “uh..-“ her eyes zipped back down to the sandwiches she’s making,” Actually um, do you want pickles or no?” 

“Yes please!” It was as if her heart played hopscotch against her ribcage, skipping to the vibrations of your voice. 

Gods, I wish you would say please more.

You observed Vi open the pickle jar with such ease, the same fucking pickle jar that acts as if it can’t open for you any time of your pleasure, the same fucking pickle jar that you have to use a knife to open back up, without any fight it opened up for her. You frowned a bit at it. To which she caught your now knit brows, letting out a flutter of giggles already knowing why. After a while, she concluded your snack essentials for the awaited munchies later. You move the clutter out the way into a nearby woven basket. And Vi setting down both assorted snacks from sandwiches, to a bowl of strawberries, two glasses of kiwi strawberry drinks, and two water bottles (like duh? All that sugar needs to be drowned out of the both of you) on that very coffee table. 

Before sitting down she grabs her grinder out of her pocket, it’s one of those cute customized grinders, with Jinx’s signature monkey on it. They’re quite known around here, no need to help advertise when Jinx is tagging the city buildings. The two sisters have created a successful business in the art of cannabis, not because they have to, no, because they both like to! They love to have fun and to spread that fun around with their trusted customers, especially you. You’ve been a loyal customer since college, first it was strictly professional, yet you and Vi just kept seeing each other throughout the city, you saw each other so much that you both decided together that you might as well just get to know eachother better. To a point where you both became really good friends. 

Maybe even.. a bit too good of friends..

Sometimes the both of you do this back and forth of teasing, although as of lately that teasing has become a little more than Vi can handle. At first it was all fun and games, however Vi began to dive into your psyche, picking up on your habits, and even mirroring some slang you use on a daily basis. Whatever you were doing it was as if you injected something in her that has her thinking about you more than usual. It was as if you both were partners that never really solidified a title, never had sex, and definitely high levels of sexual tension. Not even a situationship, because there's no situation happening except that this quality time of yours has been.. appreciated.  You both didn’t even dare to get physical, except for little touches here and there, such as hands, and a hug every time she leaves your place or when you both finish spending time with each other outside, going your separate ways. 

If anything the most R-rated intimate thing you both do is eye fuck each other to oblivion until it’s time to go. (Ah, the famous sapphic trope)

She takes a seat next to you on the couch, grunting as she gets comfortable. Your eyes follow her handsome hands as they prep the bunches of weed for the both of you to enjoy. “You know people usually already have the weed, already broken down for a smoke sesh” you comment, still not breaking eye contact of those marbled hands of hers. 

“We’re not usual people, and.. you love this part, the way I handle weed so carefully.” She taunted, stirring emotions inside of you to all gather into your ears, making them hot to the touch. She was right, you absolutely loved this part. She began to grind the weed up, flexing her arms, and you hypothetically drooling at her veins bulging with each grind. Certainly you aren’t the only one drooling. Vi could smell your consistent perfume, it was like aromatherapy for her, wishing it mixed around with her cologne.  

Truly the real reason why she didn’t prep the weed: she needs something to distract herself and an excuse to spend more time with you. With anyone else she would have the joints already packed and secured ready to smoke. With you— that’s not an option. To get high with you so fast, would expand her initial emotions upon arriving at your house. She knows this by heart, when you get high, whatever emotion you have at the start will take over. And the kaleidoscope of more hidden feelings arises, heart beating fast, being able to heightened your senses, to feel another one's energy. Being high is no joke, and being high with you isn’t a soft giggle. It’s quite the opposite…

“Hand me that tray for me” she orders, prompting your brows to knit together with sour, removing your orbs from her hands to the corner of her eye. She could feel you getting tense, pitter pattering her hand away from herself to you instead, inching closer and closer. Trying to regain some playful energy back by playing with one of your thumbs. However, your eyes favored the back of your head, then towards the floor, flicking your thumb at her hand, ripping that playful shield off because of your little attitude. If you were Violet’s girlfriend she’d fix it real quick like how she usually deals with other girls' attitudes, only if you’re willing for it to be fixed of course. 

She’s not the person that cut you, so you bled on her on your part. Luckily,  Violet already knows how to evade that bloodshed that you’ve begun to splatter subconsciously. 

“I don’t like your tone” 

“Oh really, seems like to me you’ve been squeezing your thighs since I let those 6 words out my mouth. Pretty sure that tells me you like my tone, princess.” She countered swiftly. You tilted your head, deadpaning her, until you light bulbed a thought to throw back at her “Sounds like you’re interested, got a thigh fetish, Vi?” 

Her blue powdered eyes cuts right to you as soon as those words fell from your lips, targeting right to your collarbone. She moistens her lips with a quick swipe of her tongue, blinking twice to escape another lustful loss(who’s really losing here though?) “Do you?” she asks right back. Did not expect that one from you… fuck..

“Maybe?” 

You grab the tray, sliding it over to her on her thigh. 

“Maybe not?” 

“Should I be worried?” She queried, pulling the tray closer into her thighs, your eyes taking note of her shaky hand, a slew of thoughts set off in your head however one in particular stays in place, are her ears red? You check, and yes they are..  your heart drums harder against its natural cage, your breath a little harder to keep at its normal pace from the sight. Maybe nervous actually will have you in its clutches?

“—Possibly” 

She takes a sharp breath, bubbling up some words to respond to you, anything, “Damn, princess laying it on thick today..”  

 gods, I might actually just say fuck the smoke sesh and let her do whatever she wants to me.. 

Violet takes a kitten bite of her bottom lip, dragging those teeth across it, soothing it with a lick at the dents, finding herself bouncing her leg but only an ant size bit not enough to tip the tray over.

“Am I making you uncomfortable, Violet?” 

“Uh, n-no. I’m good. I’m more than good. You know I don’t mind this little back and forth” 

“‘Never made me uncomfortable” she continued, combining her fingers through her dyed hair, stealing a glance of you, your lip gloss shined so perfectly, you sat with one leg under you and the other hanging off the couch, you arms were squeezing those ti-

Tits? Holy shit, her shirt is really loose today.. o-okay.. I got this. Everything is going to be okay. Just don’t be fucking weird. 

“Good, I don’t like making my favorite person upset” 

“Awe, you care about me? So sweet”  her voice jaunty, giving you a moonlit smile, twinkling your way, pulling your heartstrings, causing another rapid beat to rattle.

You nudged her arm in a jestering manner, yet those lines connected to your mouth danced upwards effortlessly, beaming a soft sunkissed smile. She hands you the tobacco leaf, waiting for you to grab and you stare down at it with a puzzled look, arching your brow. 

“Wet it for me?” As soon as she said that you hated that she was right, you did squeeze your thighs. Hearing that.. dammit. Not only that but she caught it, you saw her eyes drift to your legs for only a second, and only a second you needed before snatching it out of her hands and quickly into the bathroom. 

Gods, am I wet?

You checked to see if you were leaking through your pants, touching your lips with care. You felt that familiar slick through your clothes, making a tiny wet patch(it couldn’t compare to what was really going on if you opened your lips, oh how the locked dam wished it was opened by a certain pink wet muscle). It dawned upon you though, a weight that slugged you right in the jaw. You’re not wearing any panties today. You didn’t expect Vi to just show up (not like you’re complaining though) only.. no panties?! 

You’ve always gotten wet by just her voice alone, but it usually only damages your panties. Now, you’re in uncharted territory.. you know you and Vi only do this for fun. Otherwise if she were to see you like this.. well you’d hate the fun to be over with just like that.. 

Fuck, do something to take this all away! Turn yourself off for Jannas sake! I cannot deal with this right now… 

“Did you know whales have 12 inch dicks?” You inquired her, your voice laced with tiny panic, echoing from the bathroom. Turning the water on afterwards, wetting the leaf as she asked earlier.

“Haha! W-What?!  Do I wanna know how you know that?” 

You grip your free hand on the counter of your sink, taking a deep breath. Trying to calm down, slowing your heart, but as soon as you came back, the chasing waterfalls were rainbowed to continue as you laid eyes on Vi, she was man-spreading her legs waiting for you to hand her the leaf. You know what happens after you hand her that leaf, you know  that this was what you were really waiting for… your favorite part with a smoke session with Vi, now becoming your worst nightmare..

Dammit I can’t change.. it’s gonna look too suspicious.. it’s one thing if I were to change because it’s too hot or cold but no one just ‘changes’ their pants! 

You hand her back the backwood leaf, stepping forward, your hand trembling, slightly touching her cold hands, sending shivers down your back. 

“Girl, if you do not sit down. You’re acting all scared, I won’t bite you” 

“S-Shut up”  you said with a pout, taking your seat right to back next to her, circling your middle finger on your knee. Vi began sprinkling a bit of thc magic in the brown leaf, meticulously about how big she wants to make it, which prompts her to ask a random question relating to the subject before.. 

“You got a thing for long dicks, princess?” 

“Yeah, so?” 

“From an animal?” 

“Are you an animal Violet?” 

“I fuck like one—“ Vi wanted to bite her tongue right then and there. Now why would she say that? I wonder why? Has she been thinking about such lewd things  since you mentioned dick? Or has she buckled dirty jokes in her belt? She paused her actions, and you blinked twice, leaning in a bit towards her. 

“Excuse me..? Wha- what was that?” She could hear your smile in your voice, and it only made her wanna jump into a fissure without parkouring this time.

“Nothing.. you didn’t hear that.”  She answers, proceeding her previous actions, and not fucking it up with you. She bit the inside of her cheek, punishing herself. Hopefully you let that go and never bring it up again.. which is quite doubtful. You swirl your tongue in your cheek before speaking again, “And no I don’t prefer beastiality, thank you very much.” You saying that relieved some much needed ice breaking, melting her off again, laughs fell from her uneven lips, “ Yeah? Good, glad to know.”  

The r&b playlist is over and continues to your rock playlist, you can tell Violet favors your music taste, with her subtle body movements, mimicking the beat with the tap of her foot, or the bop of her head. As she rolled, tuck, and shifted the weed in place, she’d sing a lyric quietly to herself before nearing that blunt to her lips. 

“Focused on me?” 

“Absolutely” you responded, closing your porcelain gates on your supple bottom lip.

“Good girl..”  she praised, sealing it with a lick of her pink tongue, the brown leaf finally ready and full of your favorite color. And just like that, your body quickly was hot all over, whipping your head to a wall opposite of Vi’s face. 

“O-Oh my god, never mind! I’m gonna throw myself off of a cliff “ your pitch shakey, and heightened, no mistake your heart was accepting this tune more ways than one, whereas your mind was boggled with panic. You didn’t know what to do with yourself. She’s never gone this far.. not even to get a good laugh— it was exhilarating. 

“Whaat?—I thought we were laying it on thick today” a hint of mischief coloring her tone, her eyes darting around your face, just seeing you so distraught, so distracted, so deliciously filled with steam all over your body. If she didn’t know any better she’d mistaken you for an iron right now. Witnessing you change like a chameleon in the wild, she let out a pfft from her lips, then bubbles of laughter came out of her, and you simply joined in, pink sugary giggles of joy filling the air. Like a thief you stole a peek of her laughing, her eyes closed, and nosed scrunched. 

She’s so hot.. How can someone look hot while laughing?! It’s too good to be true.

“Noooooo, I can’t” you claimed, a strained whine drowned in your words, you’d cover your face, trying to hide from her. She took note of you hiding, like a babe in the wild, finding it so adorable, seeing you get all shy just for her. 

“You can’t what?” 

“I—“ you take a breath “you’re annoying” 

“Awe, such a baby. Such a big baby, hm?” 

Holding the blunt between her lips, lighting it with a flick of her zippo lighter, which also has a Jinx signature design on it. She’s such a good big sister, not only supporting her sister's art, but also encouraging her to make personalized lighters for their shared business. It makes you think back of how many times she’s cheered you on, or simply helped you out with your big move from your parents house. You slowly moved your palms back to your lap, scooting a bit closer to her. You wanted to get her back for that comment. If she was going to go all in like that then—

“I’m always a good girl for you” 

And that comment makes her whole body jerk. Almost letting the joint fall from her lips, catching it with thinning her lips. She’d raise her hand to it, taking it out her mouth, whipping her head towards you, seeing a devilish smile plastered on your face. You were definitely the one with horns and tail right now, no mistaking it.

“Holy shit… and I’m annoying?” 

“Ah, youre blushi—ing I see it” 

“Who wouldn’t blush if you said something like that?!”  

Thank Janna, I didn’t just take a puff just now.. whew, girl trying to kill me.

She took a long drag of the joint, getting a good enough cloud in her system. Handing it to you. A little fire work in your fingertips, burning both of your worries away, a rotational celebration together. You can taste the strawberry mint gum she had before getting here, inhaling in her sweetness of a drag puffing a cloud out from your lips, passing it back to her. You’d cover your mouth, feeling a cough trying to make its way. 

“Damn this nobel—“ you cough again “what the fuck Vi? How the fuck— wow..” 

“Yeah you’re going to get high as fuck with this one, I think I perfected my green thumb.” Taking another drag of this sweet tree, tasting your lipgloss on it, usually she’d hate this from another, however you, delighted, rubbing her lips together getting it all over her mouth. Messy.., messy, messy, didn’t care and would do it again.

ᥫ᭡

After a few hours of rolling blunts back to back between the both of you, eyes hazy, and dugged into a few of your snacks, sharing old war stories with each other. You were sitting on your fluffy rug, telling her one of your personal stories, from when you were young. She doubled over in laughter, shaking with merriment, almost falling off the couch, with drops of tears in the corners of her rounds.

“No— - fucking way you said that in highschool, for the goodnews introduction!” Another laugh spilled from her lips.

“Okay listen, I didn’t say that for good news but I definitely did add to the conversation” 

“Babe, that’s the same the thing” 

“No it’s not” 

“Totally different, it was adding to conversation, mind you I got detention for spreading awareness for that news” you added, a smirk scrimping at your cheeks.

“Oh my gods,..”  she spoke with a sigh, wiping a tear away. 

“The situation is serious as fuck but the way you’re saying it is killing me” 

“I’m being deadass” you responded, shaking her thigh. 

“I know with your straight facing ass that’s why it’s funny, stupid” she said leaning towards you flicking your forehead,  you let out a little whine, receiving a dopey grin from Vi. You held your forehead, pouting at her, she went in for another flick because you started pouting finding your lil whines funny in her fuzzy head state. You got up from the floor swiftly grabbing her wrist pinning them above her head, the clouds of green swirling in your head got you feeling like you could conquer most things you couldn’t before.

“Try flicking me now, asshole” 

“You do realize, I’m stronger than you right?” 

“Have a lil faith” you responded with a shrug, Vi’s non-sobered brain not catching up to the fact that you’re extremely close to her.. it takes a minute but it gets there, and she is gradually turning red. Your tits were basically in her face, close as a kiss. Her breath became more shallow, her heart raced harder than the weed was doing her, taking a big gulp from the lewd sight. She needed to get you off of her right now, this was a line that she was not ready to cross with you, unless reciprocated. She tried moving her wrist away from you yet, the more she struggled the more you giggled and the more your two twins jiggled.

Fucking Janna, I’m gonna die like this, I’m gonna die from losing my absolute shit right now!  Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!

“Off, off, off!! I swear to the gods I will flip you on this couch right now” 

“Do it, pussy”  

And so she did. 

ᥫ᭡

You stared up at her, and she down at you, 

“Well hello” 

“Still pussy?” 

The realization struck a chord, your heart was drumming up something fierce, you were petrified that she could hear your beats. Personal notes, personal vowels, personal rattles of your heart telling her out loud that you have a cr— something you fear you might have an inkling of l—-

“Y-you know what, you—are like.. Jack frost” you said in a daze, your lip quivering, oh yeah nervous had you captured alright, captured and under a really strong Violet. You had to say something, not only to distract yourself but to distract her. 

“Ho-haha- no fucking way you just said that to me?”

 No, like seriously, right now of all times? Hands above your head, gripped in her calloused hands, not moving, only inches away from each other. To a point where you could most definitely can count and see her white glimmering teeth, even the natural K9’s she has. The same K9’s she so desperately wants to drag down on your neck. Her strong jawline, that is to die for.. Not to mention her knee is slotted between your legs, nearing your wet spot might I add, actually this is perfect, distract her you fool!

“I give you that vibe?”   Her voice drips out like it’s the first oasis you ever drank from. Your body heat is radiating off of yourself sinking its fangs into her, yet cold hands grip onto yours. 

“Yes, I genuinely think you’re jack frost coded” you try again, but it’s too late. No one is distracted, this is it.

“You’re so fuckin high..”  your eyes burned for her, and hers towering over you, succumbing to those flames that you've set, the heat you wrapped her in, capturing whatever it could catch, and for once Vi was ready. Ready to be set ablaze by your warmth, and those eyes, comforting her cold body. She wanted to melt into you.

your hand moved on its own, and without protest of her icey ones, you were allowed one free hand. You reached for hers above your head only leaving a single one with your captured palm. Guiding her to your stomach. 

“Y-you, what’re you…”  her powdered blues searched yours, looking for a sign of any doubt, and there was none, just pure determination. She took a long audible gulp, and you investigated her eyes for any hint of fear, or beyond the line of this boundary, and none was there.

“What?” You questioned softly, voice oozing with desire. You flatten her hand on your stomach, another gulp down her throat. Her breath, rigid. 

She’s so warm..

Her eyes became dark, an abyss full of want, full of images of you in different positions right now. You gave her a signature move that you are quite acquainted with, staring into her left eye, then right, and her lips. 

Oh no she did not just.. oh yeah this is dangerous.. this is.. fuck..

You swiped your tongue across your bottom lip, powder blues following it as it traced its steps back inside of your mouth. Now locked on your collar bone, dragging her teeth on her bottom lip. 

“Hey..” 

“Hey..” 

Both of your eyes low lidded, taking in your energies swirling each other in. A line the both of you are at, tip toeing closer than ever, for the first time ever, you both might actually—

The phone rang, Violet's phone, knocking you both out of your daze and back to reality. It kept ringing.. Violet dipped her head in defeat, hair tickling your lips, a tiny snicker coming out of you. You spotted red ears, in her ‘sulken state’ 

“Fuck, can you..I’m sorry”  She apologized, she shifted her weight off of you, getting up gradually, not really wanting to remove herself off of you, sitting back across from you. And you sat right back up, fidgeting with your hair.

“No, no.. it’s okay I.. give me a second I need to freshen up anyway, my hair is a mess moving around so much” you claimed, pushing yourself off the couch.

“I think you look fine” 

“Yeah? Well I think I could use a little touch up..” 

“Mkay, don’t take long I’m rolling the next one after this call” 

“No I got it this time, you rolled plenty” 

ᥫ᭡

You sat on the counter of your sink, splashing some water on you to sober up, of course it only sobers a bit of you. You’re kinda glad things stopped where they were. You want to make sure the both of you are at least a bit sober before deciding to go that far. You truly  do not want either of you feeling disgusting after stepping over a line that many dare to cross. And she  the same. As she talked on the phone barely paying attention to the conversation, thinking is this okay? Should you guys cross this line? And coming to resolve she confidently decided it wasn’t right.

You finish and come back out, gloss reapplied, eye liner redone, and calm. You sat on the floor again and grabbed a wrapper, her eyes watching you as you opened it. Noticing it had too many stems in it, sucking your teeth, you got back up and threw it away, Vi still not taking her eyes off of you watching your ass move like water in those flared leggings, her eyes venturing off, noticing something different.. noticing a wet patch near your pussy. 

Oh shit.. oh.. 

“Hey I’ll call you back okay?” 

ᥫ᭡

You both sat across from each other, Vi figured you should talk real quick. And you agreed, something needed to be discussed. 

“I know we usually just fuck around but, right there on that couch—“ 

“I know, it was intense,” you admitted, fiddling with your fingers.

“Do you actually want to?” She needed to hear you confirm this, she must hear you say the words, the green light or red light to both of your future endeavors 

“Yeah..”  and as soon as you said that, fireworks erupted from inside her, thankful that the feelings were shared.

“Okay, well, just so you know, haha—‘feelings mutual..”  trying to play it cool. But now is not the time to only celebrate, now it’s time to lay down some necessary values. And this can make or break for some, but for Violet she wants this to be a subject of high priority.

“I just want to be— sober, and I feel like you should too cause I’m not gonna touch you in those places unless you are fully sure and.. coherent. I mean— - l-like if you wanted to have high sex with me I’d like that to be voiced first while you're sober before, yeah. You know?” 

“Of course yeah, I actually appreciate that so much.. We…never done this before. Shifting into a new space between each other. I-I fully agree we should definitely be sober before doing anything— beyond that” 

“I mean— we- we can still do other stuff until we're both sober” 

“Mmmm, like what Lanes?” 

“I dunno, talk? Don’t mind hearing your voice too long” she said with a big stretch of her arms. You pondered on that statement, talking would be nice, maybe.. trying to get closer would be nice to and so you say-

“Tell me what you like since we got plenty of time” you told her, and a sly smile was offered to you.

Starting off in tricky waters the both of you guided each other in this boat of unknown seas, it was rocky at first, then smooth sailing helped guide you as the wind blew gently into the sail of the experience and ignorance. You got to know her better on a sexual level and seeing her a little nervous made you tinker your bell of laughter. Vi was getting a little more cocky with her words of what she gets into, takes the golden dust off of you and back to a blooming mess. And for you, she listened to you, focused on every word that fell from your lips. She’s heard you say inappropriatiacy before, though not like this, her eyes widened like saucers, shocked that you're into something more rough,  gentle, things that she hasn’t explored yet. 

You were like a present wrapped in pretty cutesie designs with a leather bow on top for her. 

She eventually sat down on the floor with you as both talked about past experiences of your likes and dislikes, melting off that pressure from each other no longer sculpted icicles, now a pools of serenes. 

You laughed, placing a hand on her, grazing your fingers tips on her chest pulling your hand back towards you, her eyes following them back away. She effortlessly reached for your hand holding it, putting both of your hands on her warm lap, back to your eyes admiring you, finally feeling less anxious to stare deep into you.  The way she could tell that you lived such a happy life, your smile lines peeking through with every joke she’d tell you, every little angered brow you’d make when she teased something about you, poking those wrinkles away. The way she could make you easily flustered, she was fallin’ deep for you in this moment. And you, being so close to her, being able to eye her body language, her biting her finger tip, squinting her eyes, with her smile that resembled seeing the first day of spring again. You were both now well beyond unknown islands, explored your forests, your seasons, and finally felt a little more daring.

“Is this seat taken?”  You questioned, with that small shy smirk of yours, scooting closer to her,  Vi stared down at you and damn.. you really are a gift to see up close.

“Mm.. huh?” 

“Is this-“ you tap her clothed leg, “seat, taken?” Violet eyes dilated so quick from the way you asked her, as direct as you can be. 

“My lap?” 

“Yeah?” 

She leaned back palms that were flat, now fingers gripping your rug,  shaking her head no, and you plopped your plush ass on her, slotted right in between her thighs, nearing her crotch so close. After a while she gets comfortable with you on her lap as if it’s natural to be like this with you, moving her hand to your hip, thumbling your side.

“You know, when you said I’m like Jack frost, which was completely outta of nowhere” you gave her a quick pap on her chest, her snickering from your bashfulness 

“Stop playing with me, I was high, okay?” You rolled your eyes, paired with a thin lipped smile.

“Well if I’m Jack frost, then you must be the tooth fairy” 

“Really?— What about me gives the tooth fairy?” you asked, with a playful offended hand on your chest.

“You have all these little facts in that head of yours— - you talk really fast when you’re being bossy, you really like getting up—“ she leaned into your face “ real close to me at times, like this..and they had a little chemistry going on.”  

“Oh is that what this is?” 

“Is that what you want?”

You stare intensely into each other's eyes , you nodded without a word. Your hand finds its way by her ear, tracing little hearts on her cold silver piercing, her ear wiggles a bit with each brush. Violet bites the insides of her cheek trying to hold back her laugh, and you just find it cute that her ears are so sensitive. Your sun beam light lifted the roses from her body in full bloom, and her moonlit shine rose your h2o with ease, not just between your lips but your body felt gravity go from grounded to zero, bringing you both to finally do what suns and moons do best. A rarity that only some can see in once of a lifetime, she raised her hand to yours, fiddling around with your fingers until the both of you pressed against each other palms, eclipsing each other with such tenderness. 

“You’re beautiful..” she confessed 

“Huh, no I’m not..” you rejected her compliment, a slight shadow crippled like a mirror, you never told her you didn’t find yourself pretty, beautiful no less. She cups your cheek into her palm

“That breaks my soul that you don’t know..” 

Your eyes dilate, sharing a long gaze in her natural powder blues, your lips find themselves moving again “do you really.. think..”  She would love to be the one to remind you every day that no matter what, the form you take, the colors you’ve painted in her murals of life will never fade, will never escape, and always be found again and again, your colors that you splatter on her world could never be mistaken as for anything less than beauty. 

“You’re the definition of beauty, princess.. I promise you that.” 

You really want to kiss her right now, but you want to respect her boundaries, checking in within yourself if you are not mistaking cloud nine in the midst of green clouds. You were absolutely sure, it was clear. And so—

“Sober?”  You ask her

“Sober enough to know I want you” Vi replied,Her hands caress your neck, feeling the short hairs twine with her brisk fingers. Her other tracing your jaw. Vi basked in stretched out time for your lovely eyes, then traveled down to your glossed lips, begging to be kissed. She inched closer to you, your eyes came to a close.

“Been wanting to do this since I walked in here” she said before, finally closing that gap between you both. A quick peck, before you pulled away.  

“again” Vi tells you, eyes dark, pulling you in like a black hole.

You peck at her lips again. Now you’re just teasing her, a tiny evil smile perks on your lips.

“Again, rougher—- don’t hold back”  she demanded, and you submit to her orders this time. You moved, slicing the distance in half, your arms finding purchase around her neck, tilting your head, and gluing it all with a gentle kiss. Soon gentleness was thrown out the window the more that hunger festered inside, together like a storm, thundering, lightning electrifying that same kiss. Vi didn’t expect your lips to have her so out of place, her brows furrowed with confusion, on why this kiss felt so different from the many she has with different women. She let out satisfied hums between the perfectly locked lips, like two puzzle pieces that were lost in a box and the other had to be searched for years later before fitting each other. Frustrations, tensions, and long awaited touches, felt all the while through kissing, she nipped at your bottom lip like a curse for waiting this long. And you, licking her top, like an apology. Your lips were so soft, so enriched with flavor, sticky, it didn’t matter, she pulled you closer to her, whimpering for more. 

You could feel her scar tickling your sensitive lips, only making you let out more lewd whines. Your body felt as though you were going to meet the gods themselves from how good she’s making you feel, with only just kisses. Bodies pulsating, hearts beating in tandem, a deep groan in agreement that this kiss was long overdue, feeling the vibrations from her body, pooling another wet and hot mess in your leggings. Your hands begun moving, feeling her veins in her neck, fingers in search of her hair, pulling it as the kiss got more tantalizing. A high pitched mewl coming out of Vi. 

Oh, so you have a thing for hair pulling, I can work with that.

Her hand that was once exploring your jaw, now finding itself new temptations, slightly gripping your neck, your eyelids fluttering at the touch, tickling strings of moans into her mouth, and boy was she delighted to know that, she is going to have fun with you. 

“S-So good” she lets out

“Wanna leave you breathless..”  you said between breaths

“Make me then..” 

You chase each other like you’re both dopamine  like a fever dream, wanting more and more of each other. Such a greedy mess you both are. She slips her tongue in, and gods this is even better. Her hand lays upon your hip, soft and plushy, and grips it in her hand, getting a fullfist of your inuinal crease. It surprises you so you yelp, and that surprises her, both of you getting carried away with positions, toppling over one another. Still not taking a break from kissing, even though now you both have fallen with a giggling Violet on top of you, and you a chuckling mess below. Inhaling a sharp breath as her hand makes way, down to the fat of your thigh, taking big squeezes of you. She can’t believe that she gets to touch you like this, fully going crazy in her mind that you feel so good, you taste so good, you are so good.  

Wrapping a leg around her waist pulling her in, and her humming a cute tune of blissful mhm’s in your mouth. You pulled away, panting in tandem, like a hot summer's day,  you felt as though you were up above beyond words that compare. Vi gazed at your eyes, then those now swollen lips, and damn was she entranced. 

“Fuck, didn’t know you could taste like that” 

“Probably gives you a good idea of how much you’re missing down there”  

“Oh is it now?”  She says, now sitting on her brawny forelegs, you loosen your thighs grip a bit for her. Watching her as she takes off her shirt, revealing a pink sports bra, and good gods, those abs, might as well pull up a pink coffin and fucking pass out ‘cause those are to die for.  Those 8 prominent ridges, going bump, bump, bump, bump, down to her V line… eyeing that part for longer than a beat. Which gives you a bit of insight that those peeking carpets might fully match just like the drapes. Then flick back to her eyes, something’s different, before they matched a morning blue sky, but now, they matched midnight.. 

She pulls you back by the wrist into her chest, holding you by the small of your back, peppering kissing on your cheeks and your neck, you beamed another smile, and she kissed that too, and you kissed her back, chuckling away with each other. 

“Damn, I.. I really can’t believe—” 

“What?” 

“You really don’t know how beautiful you are, genuinely. You are amazing.” 

“Oh stop” you said as you strip your top off.

“No seriously, I’m— 

Revealing a light blue lacey bra that did not hide those perky nips of arousal. It was the organza that showed them perfectly, spinning Violet's head around like a carousel.

“—astonished” 

“You’re not bad yourself”  You start, 

“I mean beyond the sex appeal. You really are charming, like.. extremely exquisite. I wish.. I could—“

You heart beat, time slowed, you could hear it in your ears, it was like a beat unknown to you, or maybe familiar… 

“You could, what?” She asks, her eyes again, taking you somewhere else, putting a pause on life itself.. 

Am I fa.. oh.. I am.. I definitely am..

“I want to make a personal word for you, because you’re more than just pretty, Violet” you answer, eyes averting her gaze, heat rising to your face.  She cupped your left cheek, and your eyes found their way to those blues again, her face was beat red, yet she smiled, staring at you like you're the most gorgeous person on earth. (Which you are like duh)  the air becomes light again, both breaths, both chests rise and dive. She lifts her hand near your bosom, taking a quick glance at you if it’s okay, and you nod. She grazed her thumb against your nipple, you inhaled another sharp breath, then slowly back to rise and fall. The more she circled, the more your legs clenched. She still remembers there's a wet patch between those legs, an oasis that she’d like to drink from as soon as possible.. 

“Let’s get you out of these, yeah?”  you replied silently with a little mhm coming out of you, helping her slip off your flared leggings with repose. Legs on obverse sides of her body. She was the opposite of disappointment seeing that you had no panties on, yet amazed with how much has been going on down there. Her eyebrows raised, huffing out a laugh, “You’re up next, joker” rolling her eyes, however those ear tips of hers are more pink than her hair now.  She threw your leggings behind the couch.  She unclipped your bra with one hand, slipping it off swiftly and throwing that pair in the same place as your pants, keeping them both with clothed company, and most likely forgotten until.. well who knows how long you’ll both be busy for——

-Read your diary by Maneskine 🧠💄

The way her tits sat in her bra, I like those very much.. I want to..your mind drifted off wondering how her breast felt? Would she like to be touched there? And a strike of memory does hit you, she mentioned she does have sensitive breast. So you sat up, prickling at the curiosity, staring hard at her pink sports bra. 

“You wanna feel em’?”  You couldn’t even say it out loud, giving her an eager nod, and she captured your hand, leading you to what your eyes set on that allures your desires. You cup her breast, and they’re so..  impressive, soft and pillowy. Your mouth was in despair of a drought, needing to taste something of her. And those tits were exactly what called your palate. However, you wanna take your time with someone like this.. you want her to remember you and you remember her.  You moved into her neck, lip tracing her pulse points, noisey shlicks coming from your lips coming into contact with her neck. 

“Mm.. fuck”  words falling from her lips, the way she just moaned fuck for you, buzzing in your ears, stroking your growing ego. You tongue swirls against her freckled skin, her breath slowing, moving your hand that cups her breast, slipping it inside her bra, circling a finger on her pebbled nipple. 

“Mmhm, you like that don’t you..” you comment, voice seasoned with cockiness. Vi, hands migrating to your bare back, taking rough, and smooth touches of your blades, your spine, and reaching down to the pierced dimples of your arse. She gulps, feeling the cold metals, she's never come across a person with something like this, so excuse her for her curiosity but that mind of hers is going wild with dangerous thoughts. She wanted to bend you over on that armrest right now.. just to get a better look at those piercings.  

She let out a satisfied groan, as you bit her neck, pulling her back out of those thoughts and what you’re doing to her in the presence. Lollying her head back, fluttering those violin strings, causing her to grip a piece of your ass. You bit harder from the pleasure of her grip, which prompted her to spread your cheek, stretching your pulsating hole, letting out another grunt, and holy fuck, you loved her strong hands stretching it like that. You needed her to pound those fingers inside of you, you were starving for it.

“Take this off” you adjured, snapping her bra back in place. That sting, any other time she’d tell someone to fuck off with that, but you, something about you made her want to listen like a good girl. She slipped off her bra throwing it somewhere aimlessly, revealing an arrow shaped piercing on her right nipple. It was vital that you sucked that one immediately.

“Why only one?” You questioned, and she just shrugged, you licked the bottom of your lip, nearing the right of her breast. Pink, pink, pink, damn does she love pink, wonder if she admires her pink nipples too, huh.. Flicking your tongue on the center, she jerked up, inhaling sharp breaths with each flick, while massaging that piece of ass she still was gripping. And gods was it making you flood over, body in full depths of lust. “S’fine, need you..” she moaned quietly. You wrapped your lips around that pink nipple of hers and got to work. Her hips stuttered, pleading to fuck you like this, but she’s a good girl, so she’ll wait and wants you to have your fun.  Licking and suckling her nipple like it's the missing oasis, spit dripping down her perfectly painted canvas of a body.  The metals clicked and clattered  against your teeth, turning her on even more. Sounds like asmr the way you are delighted to lick her up. Feeling how your tongue can do many tricks, tricks that she isn’t even familiar with, melting her into your hot sun rays of a mouth. She’s biting back so many moans, she can’t let you know that only a bit of nipple play has her mind going to mush. Your fingers carefully grazing her happy trail and dammit she can’t hold back anymore.  Releasing her teased nipple woth a pop.

“Ahng, please, please!” 

“Please what, baby?” You quizzed, kissing her swollen nipple, staring up at her eyes.  You are so fucking sexy, those eyes said let me show you how you can feel good.  You were curious of course, you were down right full of bundles of thoughts all coming back to sound exactly alike: what else ticks her brain..? 

“Touch me, feel me..” 

“Where? Tell me where to go, Violet”  you told her voice coming out soft, sultry, drunk on your cloud like tone, she grasped onto your hands putting the both of them on different sides of her grey joggers, words fail her, she can’t bring herself to say it outloud, and you don’t force her to either. “lie down for me, pretty”, and so she did, lifting her legs up as you took her joggers off nice and slow, and just like a present, you were able to witness a sight to behold, as if Achelous decided to visit her and bless you with another river of elation waters. Those black boxers were done for.. all from a bit of titty play. Maybe even more before that? Your fingertips graze the rough edge of her boxers, biting her lip with anticipation. Though, you didn’t take off her boxers.. not just yet. You gradually made way to her puffed lips, that were obviously  being tortured in such a wet mess of clothing.. pressing lightly of her bundle of nerves, on instinct she grabbed your wrist, her breath came out shakey and weak, making your eyes travel to hers,  she was slacked jawed, looking needy, and begging to be fucked. You enjoyed how wet she was under those black boxers, like a sensory toy for you, you could do this for hours if you wanted, and she’d let you, she’d beg, being on the brink of tears for you to eat her out. Though, she’d let you do just that, she trusts that you could make her feel good even through something as that.. torturing her cunt from not giving her your mouth right away. Fuck.. just thinking about it has her clenching her thighs togerther, then releasing again for you to keep touching her. 

“I know you want it, I know.. but you’re just gonna have to be good for me, Violet. Can you be good for me?” 

She released her hand from you, combing her fingers through her head, letting out a whimpered mhm, “need your mouth so bad” she urged, 

You went back to your mission though, massaging her lips through her drowned clothed pussy, she rolled her hips with so much want, rolling to your rhythm, chasing your touch. She covered her face with both palms as you and her did this, so cute, so shy.  Not letting you see how pathetic she can really look like as you tease her cunt. 

“Mm, look at her, crying out for more. It feels good, doesn’t it, baby?” 

“Y-yesh..” she answered, hips jerking up as you near her clitoris again, she needed you badly. So, so bad. Yet, she can’t lie— she loves the way you're taking your time.  Like you really want her to know how much you’ve been wanting her, not rushing a thing. You reach back up to the lining of her boxers once more, gripping them with your index fingers.

“Up, baby” you told her, she complied with a saturated groan,  slipping them off down to her legs, tossing them to the side. You laid down next to her.  She was still not removing her hands from her face, leaving her large nose peeking through. 

So cute..

“Hey, Vi.. can you look at me?” 

She slowly uncovered her face, seeing your face,  taking in the air that rips from her when she lays eyes down at you. Her hair somewhat sticking to her forehead, you wanted to kiss that too. 

“There she is.. my good girl.”  And there goes another Niagara falls down her legs. Goosebumps prickled the back of her neck hearing you say that. ‘My good girl’ she repeated it in her head over and over, ah, she but the inside of her cheek, fighting back her overwhelming excitement. 

Keep it cool… keep it cool.. do not over do it. She just called you that because of the mood. Don’t read into it…

“You’re such an ass hole..but yeah, I’m your good girl.”  Yet, she let it out regardless, and checked if you were upset that she referred to herself as that, instead you were ecstatic to hear her affirm it, though…You slapped her cunt for that ‘asshole comment’ not letting that go and she let out such a high pitched moan, instantly covering her mouth. “Oh? Is that it then?”  You said grinning. Giving you a grunted ‘mhm’. She’s going to get you back for that just wait!

You scoot back a bit so you can get a good view of her pussy, her bush was so fluffy, and covered with shlick, you wanted to mix yours with hers, you were dizzy for it. Suddenly she pulled you back in for another kiss, and you melted right back into her, rocking her hips as she does so, pulling moan after moan from you, as her nipples poked yours, sending frissons down your back. You could feel her hand nearing your lips, but hovering.. you pull away noticing her hesitation to touch your slit, not wanting you to feel uncomfortable but you instead tell her, encouraging that-

“Hey..I w-want us, shared, each to each, don’t worry. I’m ready. Are you?” You tell her, looking into her eyes full of want.

“I want the same as you— I’m  ready, I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable and.. I don’t want to fuck this up.”She admits, 

“You won’t, I promise.” You said, and she nodded, sure of every move she can take with you, relieved that she can go this far with you. Her fingers sliding against your sticky wet slick, she hasn’t even tasted you yet. Already feeling your pussys analeptic effect. Just hearing your pussys slutty sounds, shlicking as she slides them slowly back and forth between those lips. Taking a nice and long taste of you in her mouth then back to your cunt. Tasting your flavors, flavors she’s bringing out of you, tasting so good for her, mmf she desired more and more. She circled your clit with her middle and ring, she felt upon you with such care, searching for that tick. You squirmed a bit and especially more after finding your spot, right near the top and little to the left. She just wanted to help you feel good, repeating the same thing she does when she masturbates. Flabbergasted that you feel that spot too, she bit back a shit eating grin, as she watched you grip onto her, sliding your hands on her muscular arms. Vi was in total euphoria seeing you like this, it was a lascivious sight, and only for her eyes to see.  Feeling her callous fingers like ridges of delight, tickling and buzzing that spot.  You were chasing that feeling, your gorgeous tits bounced with your motions of crave. That sensation sent waves of fuzz straight to your parietal lobe. Making you arch your back, holding her bicep for support. You released a cracked filthy whine, all for Vi to drink in. 

You were fevering for her cunt, sliding your hand down slipping your fingers on her outer labia, opening them and closing them with your two fingers, “fuckin teasing me like that, princess?” She asked and fully gasped when you explored her dripping cunt, nearing her throbbing clit, slow meticulous circles on that whiney bud. Her need grew, shallow breaths  the more you touched her. It felt too good, so good that she couldn’t help but buck her hips, squeezing her thighs to stimulate her clit. She hissed for more, feeling her mouth water from the inside, gulping down her drool. “M-more.. I want more, babe— mmf, please?”  

“Need, y-your fingers, f-fuck.” 

“Need you to fuck me, fuck me real good, hm?“ she had you spinning the way she was begging.  You slid one finger in, and she lolled her head back, arching towards you, panting vigorously, tits shaking like she’ll erupt any second. “More!” She mewled, and you added another. “W-Wanna feel full of you..”  you went in and out of her delicious cunt, squelching noises from each thrust of your fingers. She felt so warm, your fingers felt at home in this sopping wet cunt. Feeling you all inside her, curling your fingers, touching parts she can’t reach, god she wants to ride your fingers, but she’s too drunk on that feeling to move, until she remembers she wants to see you like this too. She slid in a finger in you, giving you a mischievous grin, and you slacked jaw at the sudden filling, you needed that, feeling those strong fingers fuck you so slow, one finger , and you trying your best not to close your thighs, moaning  like you’re in heat.(you were.) and another until a ring of cream and shlick formed around her fingers, the sight was so fucking hot, you were just all sorts of surprises. Her ears buzzed with every moan she got out of you. Your voice, itched nerves that need that certain scratch, hard to reach but so satisfying to have. You both played with each other, moans filled the air, ooo’s and ahnngs’s fell from your lips, strings of slick engulfed your hands, shared kisses, and bites, and licks from each other.  Both of you in utter bliss, heart beats drumming together, you bit her lip stretching it towards you, releasing it back to her, she couldn’t hold it any longer, she wanted to cum with you so bad. She grabs your shoulders bucking her hips, jerking uncontrollably as you thrust and curl your fingers in her sodden wet cunt.

 You were sure that if you kept them in there long enough they’d wrinkle from how wet she is, and how long she relished to keep you inside, you’d  do anything to keep the faces she was making. Didn’t care how long it took, or tired you be, this was being high but she was the substance, her moans, her twitches, her gasps, fuck her fucked out everything, you gave her more and more, the slick was getting outta control, splashing around her toned thighs, even some getting on your cunt.. You wanna make her squirt, you don’t care that it would get on your floor, the rug, fuck the rug, just fuck her til she sees stars.

You’d watch each other's faces become rich with need, then glancing at different parts of each body part that would throw you over the edge, wanting to cum together. Yet..

“Ahn,nngh I cant, b-baby I can’t, I’m c-cum..” 

“My sweet girl— -cum for me, it’s okay, I’m right here”  you coo’d to Vi as her walls got tighter, harder to thrust, yet you kept going for her until she bucked nice and hard, she’d pulled you into an embrace, smashing her lips against yours, having you swallow her moans, your eyes rolling behind your head, overstimulated, squeezing your thighs as you felt her come undone in your hands.  So warm, so tight, her jerking became much harder, holding you tighter, sticking her tongue near the roof of your mouth, whimpering loudly, you gave her a few more good pumps, hearing something wet come out of her with each thrust. You were in love with this warmth, whether it came from inside or out.. you loved the sensation of her cumming. Her body slowly relaxed into you, she’d nuzzle her head into your neck, and using your free hand you rubbed her scalp, coo’ing sweet nothings in her ear softly, she didn’t say much just mmm’s . Pulling away, she stared at the mess between her legs. 

Damn, she really did fuck me good.. I can get used to this..  

Is what she would have thought until she saw the other mess she made on your rug. 

“Oh my gods, I’m so sorry!” 

“Wh-why?” 

“I just made a mess on your rug, I-“ 

You pull her into a hug, your lips nearing her ear “Violet, I don’t mind— keep doing it.. in fact  do it again, but this time.. in my mouth”  you said in a voluptuous tone, perking her ears. You kissed her ear and she just melted. Well in that case since all is well…

“Wanna taste you, please?”  She whispered in your ear. Sending nerves upon nerves to rise and scream for her. You nodded eagerly.  She coated your neck with frantic wet kisses, untying little bows of your fantasies feeling her enchanting scar against your skin, a smile played at your lips from her frenzy of greed. Decorating hickeys on your collar bone, soothing it with a long and rich swipe of her tongue, her ears delighted to hear your beautiful voice, sweet tones poured out of your mouth, her heart fluttering from each vowel. 

 Touring down to your breast, that glowed under your light, the shine on them was mesmerizing, the way they felt in her hands felt like she was intruding on an artist finished work. Like you shouldn’t be in her hands you should be in a museum, but selfishly like any artist admirer would do, she wants to keep you in sight of her own, even if she wasn’t the one that made you. She couldn’t let someone else see these.  Just touching them feels like she’s healing; a lenitive feeling.  Kissing them was even better, you’d feel her tongue tracing your areolas, swirling her tongue, suckling them as if something would come out, your head would tilt back, moaning how good it feels, squeezing your thighs together from how much she made a mess on your chest. 

Trailing kisses down your sternum, licking your ribcage as if you could ever give more, feeling out your thighs again, squeezing them again, til she got to her destination, your stomach, kissing your tummy, biting it a little. And when she laid eyes on your puffy lips, it was as if her eyes became cat-like, zoned in on her favorite thing in the world.

“So pretty” she said before taking a long stripe against your outer labia, needing to tease you a bit, she wants to help you build yourself back up, it felt weird being tickled in that way, like she was pressing her pink muscle against places that were shocked to be touched like that, it sent tingles all around your dripping cunt. You’d buck your hips at her without your control, even your body knew that this sensation was immense, filling your brain with haze. She knew she’d had you under her thumb the more you kept bucking for her, urging her to try other places. She obliged to your silent begging, giving you a kitten lick on your stressed out bundle, you let out a bellyached croak. A short humorous laugh escaped her, her breath sending shivers up to your neck, “please..” you begged, “okay, okay, I’ll stop.”  and when she meant she’ll stop, gods she meant it, she’d roll her tongue against you, slow, a rhythmic pace, that had you grinding against her face. Crying out her name, like it was a prayer, and she answered every last one of them. Fervorous whines and moans against your divine folds, bud intensified with lust. 

She lapped desperately against your throbbing clit, you’d squirm on the floor, feeling your skin drag against the fluffy rug, tickling your back, and rough hands gliding against your plump thighs. The taste of you overwhelmed her the nerves of her brain, she kept thinking she needs to carve this into her memory. To think back on every twitch, and hitch of your breath makes when she flicks her tongue a certain way. She needs to make sure when she goes home, she can masturbate to this memory over and over again. She was savoring your juices that flowed down her mouth, not being able to catch it all frustrated her, soft groans against you— liberated your pussy. Your sweet tang fulfilling her appetite for you, making her moan against your body, circling her tongue around your hard bud, she wanted more. 

“Pl-please suck on it.. I.. Vi please..”  you whined, that little whine of her name coming out of your mouth your sounds sent jolts straight to her abdomen, she gave you a mhm’ before, clinging onto your thigh, she’d open her mouth to wrap her soft lips around your bundle of nerves, all the while licking it with the tip of her tongue and that send you feeling something snap within you, you gripped her hair, and pulled her in more bobbing her head into your pussy. The heat you emitted was a dangerous combination with your squelching pussy. A cunt too good to just be ate, no she had to devour you with everything she had. Especially as an apology for getting your rug all wet.

“Feels so good,nngh!” 

She’d wiggle her fingers asking you silently if you’d like that too. Not taking a break to pull away from your gushing cunt.

“Fuck yes, please, stick them inside me” you implored stretching out the ‘me’ with a strained moan.  She slipped one, then two, your legs shaked and almost trapped her in your thighs, stopping only one while the other shooked on the left side of her face.  She rubbed little circles around your restrained thigh, and for some reason that made it feel ten times better, like she was unwinding your hips to help you release. Her mouth felt like the best squishy suction cup ever, and her nose, god her nose felt good too, loved when it grazed you a bit, she was getting real good and up in there for you. 

Her fingers pounded more into you, as you bucked your hips.  Vi, squeezing your ass so your clit would jump more, bingeing your every move. She reached up to grab one of your tits, pawing at it, and dammit that was it! A couple of rubs from your nipples and her sucking on you like she was starving— melted you from the insides. Like a volcano that’s been needing to erupt for thousands of years, you rumbled and tumbled and finally releasing, feeling your bud throb in her mouth as you let go, her holding your hips, indenting them with her rough fingers, the orgasm feeling all the more rippling inside of you, you had no choice but to arch in her arms. Quivering legs until you finally relaxed, she crawled up to your tummy for sanctuary, laying her head on top of you, panting, “G-Gods….” 

“Y-You alright?” You asked exhausted, playing in her hair, and she hummed lovingly against your stomach, twining your fingers with her fuchsia locks. She is so close to your warm body, she’s practically sticking to you ”ye-, give me a moment..” 

ᥫ᭡

When you both regained your energy, it was another trial of fucking to get to, it was as if that one moment unfolded and gave you the code to pandoras box of wonders, you had Violet standing up on against your wall, if this was dream I bet you’d  never want to wake up from it. And speaking of dreams, Violet felt like she was walking on clouds the way you traced your fingers on her thighs, it’s been a while since someone appreciated them. Every time you touched her it felt like a song, a personal symphony sung from her nerves, crying out to gods that she was safe with you. If her soul was bare she’d let you touch that too.  You massage the back of her legs trickling your way up to her buttocks, a shallow-slow breath emerges from her, your breath embracing her drenched pussy. A delectable thing to witness, your orbs turning to saucers, you’re about to eat out Violet lanes, it was nerve wracking.  Fingering her is one thing, seeing her pussy swallow your fingers was amazing, but this is different. You stare up at her body, admiring her entire. This god of a woman was standing in front of you, biting her knuckle, averting her gaze from you. Shy little thing, but what does she need to be shy about? She’s a strong, beautiful, relentless person. Every scar from each fight, every back breaking muscle, the pieces of her mirror broken yet glued with gold by herself was completely in puddy within your hands. ‘Bout time someone reminds her that she deserves more, whether it’s through pleasing her, flattery, or simply taking care of her. And right now you have that chance to take care of her.. and hopefully you can do a mass of any want she could ever desire. As much work she’s put into herself, you’d be grateful to even support just as she to and for her.

“Thank you”, you said before diving in her lips, spreading them with your tongue, and from that first lick, she had to hold your head, and the wall to keep herself steady. Biting back a loud one at that, you kept going though, slow and precise, until you noticed her rolling her hips against your face. She used to only think this would happen in her next life, as many night shed traced your touches on her, craving for summer to come again so you’d have more places to lay your hands on, when you’d share a laugh bumping into her chest, laughing in it when you couldn’t get back up from one of her jokes. Even a simple hug when your warmth would linger could be enough for her to fantasize you holding her as she gave you the best strokes of your life. And she knows she’d do a good job at it, she just didn’t know today would be that day you’d be kissing her clit in ways that have her knees almost buckling. Holding her thighs so tightly, massaging them as you painted slow brushes to her pulsating mantle, and slurped her sweet fluids. 

“Mhm, use my mouth baby, use it” you’d say, and she waul from it.  Sticking two fingers inside of her, moving them like the waves of the ocean, and her hips followed as such.

“Mmf, d-don’t do that, Gonna cum quick with you talking like that.. hngh, ah—, yes, yes, oh—my gods! Yes—s..” 

You could taste everything from her, her worries, her love, her fights, everything , it was enthralling, had her rambling nonsense as you replace your fingers with something more entrancing, sliding your tongue inside of her fluttering hole.  You completely lost in it, and she was lost in your eyes, heart going crazy, wanted to leap out and kiss you itself, she bit down on her lip, whimpering your name every now and then. You kept playing with her cheeks the whole time, gripping on her fat ass, spreading it ever so often, slapping them, whatever whichway, it helped you immensely, she bucked harder into your mouth as you did that each time she whimpered your name. You pulled away for only a second to breathe, and she fiercely pulled you back, moaning her name in her pussy. 

“I’ll..ha—h fuck.. I’ll l-let you know when you can stop licking”

Well fuck if you’re gonna be down there for so long, you figured tracing your name on her clit wouldn’t be a bad idea, she’d moan and laugh at your constant traces of your name on her. Though, she did enjoy your tongue plenty.. You didn’t just want her to only get head, no you wanted to entertain her too, so what better way to do it on this floor? You pulled away again and she cried a gargled moan out. 

“Vi baby?” 

“Mhm? Y-yes?“ she asked looking down at you, not ripping her eyes from your siren calling self.

You planted both your feet on the floor, crouching, she tilted her head if you were about to get up, but no, you went back to stuffing your face full of her sodden cunt swirling circles around her bud, she was slacked jaw from the way you use your air against your tongue to thrum it against her jittering pink nub. She couldn’t  remove her eyes from you, looking down at you but noticed something different.. you were moving your ass while giving her head, and fuck was she entertained, you felt her clit get even harder as she watched your ass moved up and down, ripples moving as you stared deep into her eyes, those sexy eyes of yours plus your arse, those piercing, then massaging her clit with your lips, sending her on a different atmosphere. 

“Need to fuck you.. I need to fuck you everywhere…” 

“Fuck me after you cum for me, pretty” 

“You’re so l-ah! So fucking lucky..”  if she wasn’t damn near buckling her knees over this head your giving she’d fuck you senseless right now. Tongue fucking her again as her hair tickled your nose and once you giggled it had her yelp bending over into you, 

“Awe, fuck! Yes baby!” She blubbered on and on how it felt so good.

You mumbled against her pussy and it talked right back to you, curling her tongue to cup her clit, flicking it giving her a more heavy sensation of your tongue, Vi was at the edge of your mercy, ready to just fall into your mouth the way you swallowed her up. You began rolling your hips, your heat aching for her as it dripped on the floor. You’d flatten your tongue letting her take control for a bit. 

“Just like this” she whispered 

“Just like this baby, mm..” 

She came undone again, hips stuttering against your face as she cradled your head, moving it the way she wanted to move it, pulling your hair abit, making your roll your eyes back from that feeling and once she was done using you like a toy you’d flick your eyes up at her, gazing at her fucked out face, you were adorably stuck, a little smile growing on your lips. You were still awkward about how you presented yourself, yet she once again melted that down from you. A puddle under you and puddle were you. She cupped your face holding you, thumbing your cheek, admiring your glistening face, swollen lips.

“I like you, I like you— a lot..” 

“Mhm—-like..me some more, love.”  You replied

“Will do..” She said leaning her head back to the wall taking another breather. Her eyes lingered around the room, landing on the couch.

 perfect.

“Get your sexy ass up on that couch, and open those legs up.” She demanded

“Oh? Someones trying to be in charge” you teased, rising up from the floor,

“I’ve always been in charge— just… a girl can’t enjoy herself?” 

“You’ve been enjoying yourself alright” you said turning on your heel sauntering your way to the couch, Vi giving you a quick smack on your ass, you snickered, rolling your eyes from her lil bravado. Taking a seat  on the arm rest, watching her walk over to you, damn did she look good naked, and walking just took it to another level of sexy. 

You lounged your elbows on the edge of you couch tilting your head. You’d lick the bottom of your lip with a   quick motion. 

“Why are you looking at me like you wanna pounce on me?” 

“Maybe I do” 

“You’re gonna have to put a pin on that cupcake” she commented, gliding her hands on your hips, “wanna try something for you”  giving you a quick wet kiss, turning you around, facing her, back against nothing. Only a shove could place you right into the cushions, but Vi has that in store later.  She’d grasp a full piece of your ass in her hand, thumbing around your dimple piercing, kissing up your neck. She would draw her name out on your stomach right before she reached your slit, running her finger tips along her new well used toy, curious how much you could take. She glides through your folds with ease, her fingers were becoming a favored familiar feeling, your walls took well to her, not putting up a fight, never drying out. She shlicked in another.  

Her eyes low lidded, staring at your already quivering lip, she didn’t move her fingers just yet, she let them stay there for a bit, warming her up, as your honeyed waters flowed in her hand. 

“Wanna take three?” 

“Mhm, stretch me out..” and as soon as you gave her the green light, she slid one more in your crying calcifer, “Yeah.. there you go”, she said sinking them in, three knuckles deep  into your needy heat,  your hands found there way on her back holding her close, letting out pornohraphic moans, the sound of your arousal going in and out and in and out, echoing wall to wall, not missing a beat from wherever the noise came from next, littering your neck with more wet kissing cooing you that you can take it,  in your ear, turning you on even more. 

“Gonna take real good care of you..”  she kept going, stuffing you full, her thrust became more rough as time went on, you could feel power coming from her workouts in your greedy little cunt, it was too much but just enough to have you drooling. You’d move your hands to her shoulders, steadying yourself on her, grinding your hips to feel more. 

“You like being filled don’t you? Mhm— oh you like that word filled?, don’t think I didn’t see that clit twitch when I said that” 

You laid your head on her exposed chest, hiding yourself from your face, now understanding why, it was so embarrassing for someone to see you completely in utter disbelief with ribboned hornyness ironed on your face. A truth that you could easily see through, that you were a horny mess. Whining and whimpering against her, feeling the vibrations of your voice, foggying up her head with just you pleading for her to fuck you harder. 

“Mhm, yeah.. c’mere, bring your ass closer so I can suck on those pretty tits” 

Popping one of them in her mouth as she made work with your clit with her thumb, 

“Had so mush fum with mime, mashty girl…” she babbled with a wet nipple in her mouth, all of it was sending waves to your head and thighs. With grooved crafted long fingers making there permanent dips in your bed of incalescent, you barely being able to focus on anything. 

She aided your backdoor arousal, unknowingly, as she noticed you rolling your hips again, in doing so using her free hand moving your plush arse to rub against the couch,  stimulating your body the best she can. 

You cried when she pulled away from your swollen sweet pebbled nip, shutting you quick with a hand that was once gripping your cheek now around your throat. She slant her head to the side, her eyes trailed down to your tits, then her plunging fingers in your tight cunt, “hear that? That’s you about to cum..” 

“So this is what we’re gonna do, okay? You’re gonna be halfway off the couch, while I take another taste of you. Good? Good..” 

Fucking angel fallen from the golden gates..

She took away her soaked fingers and sucked the slick off of them real nice and slow for you, pushes you to bend backwards on the couch, pulling your legs around her head, going back in for seconds. 

“Good girl, mm you’re so good..’mmm”  she said taking a long swathe of your pussy, slurping a ton of you, you knew her tongue was long but goodness gracious it was tracing the rugae of your cunts walls.  You tried to touch your clit as she used her tongue to thrust in you but she smacked it away, and slapped the top your pussy, making you clench on her. And boy did that feel good, her soft muscle of a tongue felt so different, you were gripping the cushions of the couch, reaching for the head of it to grip its edge, something because your mind was slowly breaking. 

She gripped her arms tighter helping you get closer in her mouth, yanking you back and forth, your ass  dragging against the material of the couch, spinning your head around, and another snap went as a pitch of your whine like a symphony spread throughout the room as your legs shake uncontrollably. Vi could feel your body pulsate, your legs closed pulling her head deeper inside of you as you jerked your hips. 

She pulled out, panting “you tapped out?” 

You gave her your middle finger, “okay, guess not” 

You reached out for her to help you up and she took hold of your wrist pulling you up from the couch, embracing her as soon as you got near her chest. Your arms wrapped around her neck, your legs soon following the same action around her waist. Kissing her deeply, she was caught off guard by your sudden energy, kissing you with the same vigor, holding you up by your ass cheeks digging her nails in your flesh. You gripped on her jaw, nails making crescent moons on her sharp jaw. Shakey breaths in between separation, magnetic to come back for more. Your fingers carding through her fuschia mullet, your fingers not only her drug in her hot wonders, but her hair too. You were dangerous for her. Dangerous for her heart, and the beat that grew again in her core.

“Fuck, I figured you’d want a break”  she exhaled out breaking the hot kiss you both shared. 

“First of all, why didn’t I feel that earlier when we made out?” You inquired her, almost hinted with furious. 

“Was scared..” 

“About what?!” 

“Not a lot of people like the feeling of something long hitting their uvula..” 

“Fuck them!” 

“You sure cause..”

“Vi..not the time”  you scolded sternly, irritation mounted your face, in the back of your head the thought of even sharing her was nerve shattering. Especially after experiencing that. 

“‘Kay..”  she said thinning her lips, holding back her smile, she liked this side of you. Never thought in a billion years you’d want her like this..

Possessive already, sheesh..  (she’s not complaining) 

She gave you kiss on your cheek to melt that off of you, hoping you’d forgive her, and yes it worked. Can’t stay mad for long anyway. You’d tap on her shoulder signaling her to let you go. She slowly set you down and you swiftly moved behind her. A look of confusion washed over her features, wondering what are you up to now?

“Bend over on the couch please?” 

“What’re you?” 

“Please?” 

“Fine, better tell me if you’re gonna stick something in me”��

“I would never not tell you that” you said giving her ass a good smack she let out a shriek that made your pussy weep from that high pitch. You absolutely adored her voice pitches.

“Spread ‘em” you ordered her, she sighed, moving her legs away from each other. 

“I promise I won’t stick anything in you without permission so cut it out with the attitude” 

“Maybe if I was being fucked right now I wouldn’t have it” 

“Okay smart ass”  you muttered, pressing a thumb on her outer labia, Vi hummed happily that you started touching her again. Except, you were only using your thumbs, massaging her lips, pressing them together, dripping her nectar down on the floor.

She’d whine moving her tush for you to do something else, but you had this evil grin on you. 

“Nuh uh, you were being a smart ass.” 

“Sorry please, need you” 

“Not gonna work, babe” you denied her, she let out this sob and you spanked her for it, another high yelp coming from her. She bit her lip down, groaning. However every smacked you gave, you did not fail to see that her tremoring waters were falling down her muscled thigh. You moved your hands to her ass, drawing small circles around her supple cheeks. Tingles were killing her on the inside, upset from no penetrating fingers and oddly enough, curious satisfaction from it, it felt as though you were enjoying her little shakes from being deprived of your lack of fucking her. Shallow breaths emitted from her, and the build up was no secret, you were working her up something fierce. Stripping her of her privileges was just the start,  you’d near her pussy every now and then only to give her nothing, blowing on clit, thinking she’d finally get some, only to bite her thigh the next. 

After a a half an hour of you fucking with her head, you gave her a little prize for not begging, or trying to get something to touch her rose bud,  you kiss her cunt sloppily, swaying you head from side to side lapping at her bushy pussy, burrying your face thoroughly into her musk,.

“Oooh, fuck..— eat that pussy mmm! Fuck.. yeah baby”  she’d moan, bobbing your head as you laved in her folds, pulling more wauls from her, gobbling her right up.

“Oooh,, fuu—ck “ a prodigous hunger you become acquainted with every time you submerged into her mess of a cunt.

“Awe shit, oh gods…”  her legs mimicking temblors, desperately wanting to move around, but everytime she even as shake her ass into your face you’d smack it hard and rough, preventing her from just adding more friction.

“Lemme grind into your face please, please, need to!!” 

“Uhh-uh” you say and she felt it, grinding her teeth, drool seeping into your cushions, fuck it she had to bite down on something, it was torture not being able to rub her throbbing axon of ardor. You’d break away from her pussy, drown from her intoxicating natural perfume, a muffled whine feathered from her lips. You had to pull away just for a bit…to admire her butt that is. 

You gave her another smack, making a red hand mark on her pale ass. You groped the round of her butt, giving her a good harsh squeeze, roughly playing with her ass, always seeing it just not in your hands often put your mind in a frenzy, of course you were an ass girl after all. You gripping on creases that weren’t too far away from her rounds, shaking them to make sure you got see this lecherous ass vellicate in your hands. Watching it bounce, wriggle, whatever it  was  breathtaking, gave you a good scratch to your brain. 

“H-Having fun there?”  She asked and you ducked under her legs seeing her face all red, breathing out a laugh, “fuck you” 

“I bet you’d like that huh?” 

She sighed deeply, pushing her face into the cushions.

“Oh be quiet, you’d do the same thing to me. In fact you’ve been pawing at my ass quite a bit today” 

“It’s a nice ass” she stated, murmuring  into the couch but loud enough for you to hear the words. You rose back up, shifting your focus back to her arse again, you’d spread them apart to marvel at her pink pretty pussy, and her.. throbbing anus. 

“Hey..” 

“What?” 

“Can I.. can I stick my tongue in here?” 

“Why..?”

“Just curious “ 

“Mm..I mean.. go for it let’s see if I like it” 

Pretty sure you will the way it’s all twitchy

You gather a large amouth of saliva, drippling it down to her anus, watching it slide over her slit. You didn’t want to rush this, so back to her pussy it is!

You licked her entire vagina, you moaned without a care in the world, eating her like she's the last waterfall on earth. Her slicked mimicked a certain plant, a gingembre de la ruche, the kind that you have to squeeze out, getting your hands all messy with its thick and creamy substance, you slurped with delight. Her ass ricocheting against your face, muffled sobs of sweet eudemonia. 

You moved up to her arse swirling your tongue into her ass hole, and to your surprise it’s actually sweet… like extremely sweet.  And after find that out you gogred yourself to her rimmed ass,

“Oh! Um?! Oh fuck?”  You slid your tongue inside of her, getting more of her,  a swell filled your core, tingling with excitement knocking at your entrance, something possessed you  the more you drilled your tongue in her hole, kissed it, licked it, going deep inside of it, fuck it all you didn’t care, it was so sweet and addicitive, you couldn’t help but go back for more. 

“Okay..fuck—.. oh, FUCK!”  Something clearly possessed Vi too, at first it was weird, like a weird tickle, and then it broke, whatever strings of decency she had ripped from her and had her gritting her teeth to feel more of you sink your tongue inside of her.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes”  she rocked her hips to feel more and you gripped onto her, hugging her legs, another long stripe from her clit to her ass again, and again, like she was candy herself. Her legs were shaking, pussy pulsating, and her arse begging for more. And then you stopped.

“Huh? No.. no,no, no.. I was so close, baby please.” She even stomped on the floor for a second, your eyes buldged at her tiny tantrum. You winded your arm back and spanked her, knocking some sense back into her.

“Nope, water break” you clearly stated, pronouncing each word fully, sticking your finger in her cunt once more, her knees buckled and she caught herself on the couch. You sucked your fingers walking away as she laid on the couch, panting.  

“Yeah you’re right.. water break. Definitely need a water break.” You pressed something cold against her cheek, and she whined from the sudden freezing bottle. 

“Big baby” 

“Whatever” she replied, snatching the bottle from you. you jortled at her, you’d seen her have an attitude plenty of times, but this is just downright hilarious, over some ass eating? Seriously? 

“I wanted to finish..” she pouted taking a drink from the bottled water. 

“In a minute” you decided, another annoyed huff from her.,

ᥫ᭡

-Own my mind by Maneskin😵‍💫🔒

She sat on the cold coffee table, nervous she might break it, you’d reassure her that everything is okay, it’s a really sturdy table. Her shoulder tension soon untied and loose, widening her legs for you, and hands planted behind her. Her hair stuck to her forehead, she'd comb it out of the way, her body still sticky from earlier, abs glistening in the light. You’d peer at your window seeing the sun setting, no ones ever been able to keep up with you like this, it was nice. Of course Vi could keep up, she doesn’t have a body like that for no reason, but you’d worry if her libido has been strained. You’d check in with her and she would tell you with eyes full of certainty and trust: I’m not that tired, I’ll let you know if I need to stop. And last but not least a fire that was still going behind all of that validity.

Since you were so worried she might be pushing herself, you’d decided that you should have a safeword: red. 

You gradually slither your fingers from her abdomen to her sternum, taking a flick from the bottom of her nipple, she’d wince from the sudden touch, feeling something hot within her gut,  you’d repeating this movement in the interim waiting for a sign that she’s ready for your next ecstasy of curiosity. Your sign came out, enough for you to hear a low throaty moan freed from her soft lips. Your expression on your face was pulling her in, that greedy smile that you bit down with your teeth, your lids halfway closed, lashes fluttering hinting something perverted within you. Vi rotated her hips for you, her face was flushed like hues of ripe strawberries when your finger pulled her non-pierced nipple.  

Releasing it making her tit bounce back, you’d take both of your fingers poking, rubbing, flicking her nipples (pay back for flicking your forehead earlier) a dopey laugh loosed out from your succulent lips, and huff from her mouth. 

“I said I was sorry, stop being such an ass about it” she proclaimed, her nose scrunching up a bit, but her tone hinted, want, desperation. Her jumping pink cherry, not really helping her out with being a chest puffed out prick. More like please fuck me but I’m going to pretend I’m being a bitch. 

“You actually never said that but go off” you quipped, flicking her nipples again, another stained whine  from Vi. Your eyes took an interest between her legs and noticed a pool of her liquids leaking off of your coffee table. You’d smirk, the thought she was getting off just from her tits made you throb all over.

“Oh so you are into bdsm”  you said outloud, not realizing that wasn’t an inside thought.

“Huh..” 

“Huh”

“Wait you- are we going t-?” 

“Mm.. I think that would be a bit much for you.. today”  you interrupt her, fast talking over whatever she was saying that made your face firey, avertying your view from her. Your ears were hot as fuck, embarrassed that you actually said that to her. You don’t want her pondering on that so, you bent down, lips kissing and sucking her abs, you been itchin to lick the sweat off of her, she’d clutch onto her own thigh from the libidnous assault on her abs, your tongue encircling them, and her panting from the carnivorous display. She grabbed your jaw, planting a wet messy kiss on your lips, tasting her sweat off of your tongue, you both humming in between breaths. She guided you to sit on her lap, straddling her, legs quivering over the large rigid muscle. Hard as a damn rock it was.  

Your fingers made their way to her fuchsia locks, pulling it, it felt so good that she pulled you closer, breast pressing against each other, nipples teasing with each shake. She’d pull on your nipples as revenge, yet is it really?— When you're in fact moaning her name? 

You ripped yourself from her lips, her brows furrowed frustrated that you wanted to keep teasing her. 

“Wait—“ you paused, her nose scrunching up again, her lip upturning to let out a- “ before you get mad I have a proposition” 

Her face relaxed, and she manspreaded her legs, you gulped from her still being able to exude that masculinity even in this state, fucking janna you needed to stuff her cunt in your face again!

“Proceed” she growled, she was still a little pissed with the interruption.

ᥫ᭡

You came  out of your room with a big bottle, a smiled buddened your lips.

“What’s that?” 

“Lube”, she shook her head waiting for you to finish why you have that, with nothing else in your hand.

“Wanna try anal?”

“Um…” she said with puckered lips. 

“We don’t have to!” 

“No! I.. okay.. —- uh..I don’t want to do strap anal.. YET! “ she corrected you before you figured she was scared of that idea or even protestant of that suggestion, “But another time, sure..”

“Okay that’s cool, I.. I- that’s I didn’t bring anything.. I’ve tried it.. but I know you definitely wouldn’t want to try that all at once.. To tell you the truth it’s a lot at first..” 

“Fingers would be better though,” you continued. Her eyebrow quirked up, hearing that.

“Can we try it with—fingers?”  She asked, her eyes dilating, as she danced her gaze between you and the bottle. 

ᥫ᭡

You first poured it on the surface of her ass then filled it with the lube..“Nngh, that’s cold..”

“It’ll be warm in a bit” you reassured her, kissing her inner thigh. 

“I’ll start with one finger and if you want two, tap me”  she nodded, “Vi.. I’m not going to insert it right now” 

“But—“

“Aren’t you scared? It might hurt” 

“I trust you.. I think I can handle it if it’s you..” her eyes were glossy, biting her lip, darting from your orbs to your lips. You bend down to her face, nearing her lips again. “Gonna take this nice and slow, okay frost?” 

She let out a light snort from that dumb nickname. You interrupt her laugh with a kiss, and she instantly melted into you, a enjoyable hum coming from her, your lips sort of fight a bit for dominance, not much of a fight though, from you, her scarred lip once again trembling your hooded secret, her hands cradling your face, pulling you into her more. Her tongue no longer shy reaching deep down your throat, you breathed deeply through your nose for air. It felt as though you were making out with the most indelible woman in the world, actually not it was a fact. A dangerous fact that had you caught in her muscled clutches, welcomed to be captured by her. The kiss grew deeper, delicious tongues, and teeth were shared, long pining moans in an earth plate shaking tango.  You’d tuck her hair back from her face, removing her tickling locks from your nose, she moved her head back and forth, tongue fucking your throat, and you were all accepting of it. Your Oropharynx, being treated with such devotion, enamored with her tongue as well which alerted your brain to alert your blooming dripping flower to be overflowed with want. 

You kneaded her abdomen, feeling the pressure of her hardened tissue, appreciating her dedication with a well deserved massage, her abs contracting at your compassionate touch. You fingers made their way down to her happy trail, enjoying the sensation of her hairs twining with your fingers, her moans through her now rough frenching, louder, swallowing each one, gladly. You pulled away sucking down one more moan, a honeyed line connecting you both. Together, stertorous, sucking the air back into your lungs, fuck the air you craved to touch more of her, you sat on her lap. Her hands naturally holding you down, your mouth eager for her ear, playing with it, circling her lobes with your wet pink muscle. Her back arched from your play, motioning you to grind on her lap, and you did. You fucking did whatever the fuck she wanted with an angelic voice like that pouring into your ears, your walls being able to hear such a voice fall from golden gates and into your home. If the walls could applaud they would, if the atoms in the air could do backflips they would, if only you could permanently have this moan in your head like a ongoing vinyl youd fucking would. 

Your fingers danced around her palms intertwining yours with hers, an intimate loving way to tll her everything is going to be okay, holding your hand would had her losing her shit, instead she was losing herself not understanding where you began and she ended, mind boggled by how you got her so pathetic for more of you. She apologized for letting go over your hand but she needed to touch herself right now, or she’d bite down on her tongue to punish herself for not even taking the opportunity to show you how she pleasures her needy folds.

You watched her swirls her fingers around her crying gummy button, slick loud in her palms, moans crying out your name, bucking hips with so much energy, gods what a damn sight. You had to repay her, so you’d licked her pulse points, rolling your tongue and more intricate skills against her sweet spot. She sobbed your name in response to those sensations you and herself gave her. Your mouth latching on that very sugary sweet spot, sucking it again and again, soothing it with delectable swipes of your tongue, she was tearful for it.  You’d lick her tears away coo’ing in her ears “go on, cum”. 

However, she did want to very much so, she felt her anus needy, so she grabbed your free hand as you littered her with hickeys, moving it towards her downstairs heat. Catching on quick with your wit, you circle it a bit 

“Please, please, please, —pleaseeeee” she grunted that last ‘please’, desperate for it, you stick only a half a digit, a tip of it in, kneading her tit in your other hand. You’d do this repeatedly, until her anus was trying to gulp you up. Stretching it a bit expanding her, another wail coming from her, biting her pearly whites on her precious bottom lip, you also gnashed your teeth on her ear pulling it, her back felined deeper. 

You released it, whispering “how many times have you masturbated to me Vi?” 

Her hips lurched from the sudden question, her ears crismon, how the hell did you know that she was tending her hot pussy to you?

“Better tell me or I won’t—“ you circled her clenching hole again, needing to be filled up by you, sobbing for you to put it in, only met by more teases.

“I.. ah.. — can you— mmf, oh god, princess please?” 

“Uh-uh not until you tell me…” 

You began to lapped at her nipples making sure both got attention, suckling her pierced one the most. Her head was a circus filled with too many things and too many thoughts going back to: I need to be full right now, fuck it all, fuck meeeee. 

“Mm! -mmmhfwa..  I.. haah— o- ok, okay, oka—y fi—ne!” she whined, lollying her head back.

“Often, almost every time I leave.. I masturbate to you, your voice, that look in your eye, everything, even if your not wearing makeup, or if your hair is messy it helps out even more— happy? Now fuck me please”

You slid a finger warming her until shes ready for movement her lipped quivered and her voice tainted with only please coming out her mouth.

“B-baby I told you.. c’mon!”

“Since”

“Fuck! You’re such a bitch for this!” She cried again, you jerked in your her finger hard into her and she rolled her eyes back, gargling a moan out, “s-sh-sorry”

You kept it still, warming her again. 

“Since I— I.. fucking hell. Princess, I’ve been masturbating to you since we met” she turned to you with puppyed eyes. Your eyes widened at her confession, your chest rising and falling, heat rushed throughout your entire body like embers making out with  each memory you had with Vi since meeting her. 

You began fucking her senseless, her ass and your fingers making abhorrent noises, especially as she masturbates, “You’re a dirty, little sweet treat, huh?”  She nodded, moaning your name, memories of her masturbating to you, smothering her mind,“Nn-need your tongue, princess” 

Your lips made contact again, tongue fucking eachother, quelching against each other, as you recoiled your hips, giving your inferno a some kind attention. Your falls, dribbled down her legs,”shho—warm” she tried to speak through your passionate kiss, you ripped yourself away again, lettinf out “fuck this, Need you in my mouth now”

You got on her knees lapping at her pussy she taped your cheek, and you slid in two for her as she began riding your fingers you played with her bush, and happy trail as you fucked her both ways. Both holes clenching down  as you jiggling her ass with your free hand giving her more friction. Her mind and body being able to keep up with your tongue filling her hole, and your fingers, convulsions taking hold of her as she cried out your name so loud you knew your neighbors heard her, her musk was addictive, and her cum, twice as much, creaming on your tongue, and drowned, you thought you died but of course from muscle memory to remind yourself: I need to drink her, all off her. She didn’t stop cumming, she held your head close to her as she let out her squirt in your supple mouth. 

ᥫ᭡

No mistaking it, you were both checking off to your lists of what else you’ve been craving to do to each other. All of this tension, all of the almost there's, and  tooth rotting, hair pulling yearning that could have been melted with one kiss.

Her eyes roll back, her mouth slacked open a tasty moan, as she felt both of your lips make contact, “This feels— way better than.. ah,I-.. oh fucking hell… way better than I thought— ‘nngh” moaning, as her nails digged into your hips, slapping eachother cunts together, the friction going to both of your heats. Her hands find their way to your neck again, only pressing a berry size bit, the sensation peaked your sense you’d  still try to speak to let her know, “Violet your sho warm..“,gliding together, your cunts glistened, shined. 

Gushing against each other, her rocking her hips slow, the more you both shook against each other, the more you both became molten, “Babe, you hips are violently shaking..against me.. I- aah-, aah-, aah!”, clarets kissing each other ever so often spinning you both for a loop, minimal movement restricting both poise papillons thrills.  It wasn’t enough for either of you but hardly stopped any stutters, only warmth, and titillation arousal kept you both going. “Can’t help it, feel too good” you replied.

Vi took grasp of your hips, her abs convulsing, with every touch of the curve of your arse, tides of your skin shook within her hand once she found a good cadence for your gliding cunts. “ fuck,fuck, fuck, fuck!” Vi cried out. But after finding a moment of consistent pleasure.. You were absorbed within it, pleasing the both of you that all you could hear in the room were your tulipe d’afriques clapping. A tune that never could be anything more than ustulation. Seraphic noises in the air, only reaching into ears of the perverse, and sweet throbbing clarets. Her nails marked you all around your lower body, fevoring for her favorite flower.  Littering both of her cheeks with falcate bows in her skin, more red marks for her collection.  It took one look from each other to interlocked, neither of you being able to look away from this moment you shared each to each as if this was a personal sweven that only you could wish on a starry night to have. 

“This is really bad, why does everything feel so damn good with you..” 

“I think I’m getting addicted “ she continued, another rush of her sugary throbbing drupe caressing yours, your eyes fluttering close, gritting your teeth at her shallow pants, all you could say was “So slippery”, as your eyes made home to the back of your head. “C’mere, w-want us to cum”  she told you as she yanked your body closer to her, nipples giving eachother quick kisses, it was as if Violet was engulfed by your beams like a sensational time to apricate against you and only you. Her sun, her beaming beautiful sun, she could have mistaken her need to be closer to you as heliophilia if she knew how much she grown accustomed to your hot spell. As she slotting against you more, the squish of your lips together making obscene noises, getting close to your climax. 

Your mind snaps and you let out cries, wrapping your arms around her neck, you didn’t stob rucking against her though, you pleaded “hold me” in her ear, and she embraced you tightly, her biceps curling against your supple skin, throaty gulps of moans in a sealed kiss as you both arrived on eachother. Hips becoming broken records just like Violet's vocal cords when she’d stare at you for too long. Now comfortable to view you, your essence, your spirit, and the comfort of a cotton candy embrace. 

ᥫ᭡

You both cuddled on the couch, but only for a bit, you both popped this question that spun in your brains, creating rooms for free. Consent was given, and peppered kisses were shared as you. Both drank more water, a quick snack, and went back to business. But before you simply just went back.. that consent that was told before, must be wrapped and sealed carefully. Promised with a white cloud. 

Your eyes became dark seeing the way she watched you lick the brown wrapper sealing it carefully. She placed the blunt in your mouth, waiting for her to light it. She’d flick her zippo lighter your way, burning it with ease. Shifting her body around to place it back in her grey sweats that were carelessly casted away. 

That smoke twirled in that air, energy of love pouring into each of your cups, not being able to tell when she begins and you end.. as you both shared this blunt. 

As was stated before, a high only heightens prior emotions, and no mistaking that this was going to be the best one yet. The mood shifted into something more deeper than before, it was as if you could feel each other's sexual energy, it quaked in your heart, and throat. A silfira, born. No, not born broke from the crust of the earth to emerge between you.  She took a long drag of it before nuzzling her head into your collar bone, licking your nape in flat tongue motions, while playing with your pois papillon again. Gathering your syrupy slick along her calloused fingers, you’d laze against her, unwinding under her touch. Letting out soft pitcher lullabies, every vibration you let out reached her, like they were thrusting inside of her, cruising against your waves of honey. 

“Mm, wanna fuck on the bed?”  She suggest, focus on your slick sticking to her fingers.

“Mhm, carry-aah-,  me?” 

“Of course, baby” 

ᥫ᭡

As Vi set you down on the bed, a thought crossed her mind, and groaned from that very thought. She was upset she didn’t bring her strap for you, of course she had no idea this would be the day you both would step over that pink ribbon of a line. Although not everything was lost, you admitted you have one, recently bought out of curiosity. You wanted to see what a girthy strap was like, searching online you found one. A black strap called ‘black mamba’ piqued your curiosity, it had thick veins, and the tip was big but soft. It has been sitting in your closet since the last time you took it out, just to feel it, and test it if you and it were a good match. Lots of lube needed to be used, though it just didn’t feel right exactly. You kept it in your closet because using the strap yourself wasn’t enough. Frustrations were the main reason for its imprisonment.

 

-Angel (Remastered 2019) by Massive Attack 💢⭕️💢⭕️🌹‼️

Now there was a ludic reason to finally bring it back out. 

You were at the foot of the bed, on all fours, one hand underneath your legs, gripping the black strap shaft, not entirely swallowing it within your melting core. You were in fact plopping the rubber bulbous in and out of your needy heat, it felt even more good with thc in your system, all the while Vi rubbed your ass. You let out a breathy laugh, you could feel Vi was struggling just seeing you in control. You suggested she’d take a breather, lay down, relax, that was the idea, until you lightbulbed more scandalous brainstorming in that crafty mind of yours. Upon using both of her hands, entranced by the plopping sounds your pussy would make every time you took back out. You were in a particular mood, the kind that feeds her hunger, the kind that has you truly in deep plunging waters of seclouth. Her eyes were completely captivated by your stretched out slutty cunt. She paid attention to your pussy, as it gushed slick, making honeyed cord lines every time you make contact with the black bulbous.

“So fucking hot, holy shit, you’re so hot”  

She felt anguish to not be able to just push your head into the mattress, giving you the most visceral strokes into your crying tight tulipe d’afrique. Fine, if she can’t have her play, then she’ll just fuck you in other ways. —-You see Vi wasn’t just getting fucked by you earlier. She was taking notes, and she’s a quick learner. She played with your trembling anus before gripping on your ass stretching your other hole, sending you off the rails. You’d plopped the black bulbous in quicker, “if you’re going to keep teasing me like that, can you..” trailing off, swaying your ass telling her silently: fingers now…  She let out a soft whine hearing you say that, she was so curious to see how you take well to her fingers in there, you’d slipped the bulbous inside of you, warming it while vi … well she filled your anus with the same lube you filled hers. She made sure she grabbed the bottle while you were looking for your black mamba in the closet,  with the way you described it seemed like you’d need it, and boy how much you needed… not just for that strap.. Came in handy, no? After a few teases of your ass hole, and throaty wet gulps from the anticipation, she dipped her fingers inside of you. You grit your teeth from being full from both ends, planting your face deep in the bed. Your legs twitched insufferably, Vi would take her free hand and massage your calves, making sure you were really feeling good. 

“Awe is my baby about to cum? Hm? You wanna cum?”  She said, pounding your ass with her long fingers, two in deeply reaching your special places within. You couldn’t even form a word, barely a moan, just wet noises coming from your mouth and two holes. You’d swivel your pussy around the bulbous to feel more, almost filling yourself with it, but had enough sense to not do that just yet. Violet could feel and witness you clench from both ends, you were about to cum hard. Except, a certain pink haired jackass got wise and swiftly pulled out her fingers from your anus, which prompted you to stop teasing your cunt, 

“Fuck you” you moaned, finally being able to regain some verbal access.

“I bet you would like that right now, huh?” She quipped back, a nefarious chuckled she let out, you’d let go of your black mamba and gave her a middle finger from between your legs, she’d make a cirlcle with her thumb and index finger pretending to fuck it. 

“bet you’d like me to ride that” 

“Well now I dunno what I want, both are pretty.. “ she slid her fingers in your ass again, trampolining her long fingers again, confusing your brain circuits, you’d let out another moan before speak.

“Fu—ckin’, good options..” you managed to reply, and then once again she removed those delectable fingers again, a huff coming out of you from her insistent teasing. You got up sitting on your forelegs before crawling toward her, straddling her, properly holding her shoulders for support. She helped you position yourself above the strap, and you leisurely lowered yourself, your heat swallowing halfway down on it.

“C’mon go lower” she begged pathetically, her eyes yearning to see it disappear in you. 

“I.. it’s too big Violet.” (you were lying… lying like a damn slut) —She was sad to hear that, but that’s okay, she wouldn’t force you to take it, if you can only handle only a bit, then she’d make sure you’re comfortable first before anything.

“S’fine, go ahead do your thing, baby” 

You were making such a mess, dripplets of your cunt would splash on her abs, your slick was soaking the strap. And you were sucking it in so good just not enough for Vi to fully see it disappear..  but you tried using her abs as a steady mount, except your slick was truly slippery. You lost your footing and accidentally dropping deep into her cock her eyes round as ever immediately concerned for you, catching you but not in time to undo any ‘damage’.   You’d let out a feral moan, your arms shook as you reached for opposite sides of your face, you tilted your head upwards facing the ceiling. Your jaw slack, then closed, biting your bottom lip roughly.

“Baby you okay?” Violet asked, the round bulbous smooched your g-spot, and made you let out more carnal moans, gripping the sheets, bouncing up and down on it. 

“Fuck…! “  

“Fuckin knew you could take more— messing—aah-  with my head like that“ She planted her feet on the bed, arching upwards holding you hips jerking her hips into you, helping the strap reach deep in your cervix, only  plap, plap, plap bounced off the walls, until Vi broke the ongoing noises adding her own.

“You take my cock just fine” she’d tease.

“Yesh, whatever fuck.. mee” 

“Don’t stop, mmm” you said, as your tits shook up and down, nipples looking so succulent.

“Holding out on me”

ᥫ᭡

The both of you were supported by thc, taking over to add on the high of carnaling hunger for each other, She takes another drag from the joint  before speaking again, “You are so— fucking hot, damn” , putting it out on a near by ashtray on the night stand and placing it behind her ear, diving in to suck your tits once more.

You lift her head up by pulling her hair back, she whines from being ripped away from your pretty puffy nipples, you felt empty, needed fulfilling.  It’s critical that you get some strap in your stomach again. 

You felined your backside up to her like an animal in heat waiting for her to stick that plastic right down deep in your sticky core. Vi swiping her tongue on her bottom lip, seeing you spread your petals, dripping your ambrosia on your sheets, ruining them with a puddle. Before giving you what you want she needs to taste it again, crawling over to you, baiser avec la langue, deeply, her nose drown in your juices, tongue reaching your clit, swirling it around, moaning vibrations into your cunt, you’d went cross eyed from her long warm tongue. Giving you clit a good sucking, releasing it with a loud ‘pop’  before sliding the black strap against your dripping rose, needing to pluck that hungry hole, leaking sweet nectar.  She slowly slipped in the girthy dick in you, bottoming out, hips managing to touch your plush arse. You instinctively bit down on your sheets, preparing for some lethal strokes. Her breath quivered, seeing you suck it in so easily, short circuit her brain for only a moment. She rubbed circles with both palms on your ass, admiring your plushness.

In her eyes you were radiant, even though the sun had fully set, the night sky taking over, she personally had the sun in her palms right now. Her hips moving back and forth, finding her rhythm, and you curving your butt back into her, matching her tempo. Soughs coming out of your tainted lips, bringing thrills in Violet's ears. Your folds holding her tightly, yet you still begged her to fuck you harder. “Fuck you harder? You're already clinging to me, baby..” 

“Please?” 

“Okay, if you start crying I’m gonna stop okay?” 

“Mm.. sometimes I tear up when it’s so good.” 

“Overstimulation turns me on..” 

“Oh..”

Oh

Ohhh

“You didn’t mention that earlier..” 

“Figured you’d think I’m weird..“

“No no, this is.. great news” 

“Now I don’t have to hold back”  she said as readjusted herself on the bed.. tame, now unlocking a primal beast out of her cage…

“Gonna fuck you for real now.. kay?” 

“For real?” You repeat confused by the statement..Vi pulled your legs closer, stretching her upper body over you, setting her hands down into your mattress, one palm over the over, you were confused with this position, never had done this before, I mean being folded isn’t new to you but this is odd. But as soon as she started snapping her hips into you, you didn’t even care. You were too busy sinking into the bed while she thrusted deep inside of you feeling your brain go to mush. 

“Sho—ah-much— sho— dee- aah!” You said barely being able to form coherent words, even swallowing was hard, it was as if the harder her hips snapped into you the more pressure reached your cervix, somehow feeling like it was reaching your throat. 

“Oh fuck.. my neck.. red, RED, Vi red” you yelped out, as much as it felt good it was just too much for your neck that is. Thank goodness for the safe word. She immediately stopped when she heard your yelp, helping you get up from the pose, inspecting your body first, worried eyes scanning over you.

“shit— I’m so sorry.”  You rubbed your neck, tending to the pained area, “It’s s’okay, if we’re gonna do that I need to focus on more yoga, ‘kay?” You tell her, seeing her worried eyes gave you an ache in your heart, giving her a quick kiss trying to show that it really is okay. Just happy she listened to you, trusting her even more for respecting your consent, respecting the safe word.. just being concerned for your well being and mind. 

“Still wanna continue?” You ask, and she nodded. 

ᥫ᭡

You’ve been sucking on her your strap for a good minute, you wanted her to forget about her tiny mistake.You’d lather your spit on the strap, tasting yourself on it, Vi cupped your cheek in her hand, thumbing where you’d stuff the strap in. 

“You ready?” She asked,you let out a gargled mhm, plopping the bulbous out of your mouth to turn your body around for her. She grabbed both of your wrists with one hand, reaching for your jaw and held up your face. 

“You okay?” She asked one more time still feeling guilty for hurting your neck earlier, moving you closer to her face, kissing your neck, “Mhm..”  she slipped in the lubed up strap in your heat real slow, her pace gentle and slow, still filling you up in all the right ways. Gathering up a ball of spit to drip down, the warmth of her spit hitting your cunt as she thrusted. She bottomed out over and over again for you, her metre pulsating your bud of nerves. Your slick reached down her muscular thighs, sweltering fluids felt so good, melting her brain with how the black strap would vanish within you.

“Vi?, Violet please” you’d pleaded, you wanted her to give you the backshots like before, it’s better in this position, your neck not in danger, wanting her to give her those carnal strokes made your cunt cling onto her more, and the way you begged for her right now, her ears were buzzing— red as ever.

 “I love it when you say my name like that, keep calling out to me.” you grunted at her not easily obeying, but who cares you may be the bottom but it doesn’t mean you can’t be a dom right now. 

“Let me hear you beg for it.. Lanes”  Vi, whined that you wouldn’t let her have the upper hand, but whined even more that she did feel the need to beg instead, regardless of her being the one in control, you still had her on a silver leash. 

“Please please baby, please say my name like that again” she sobbed, 

“Mhm, -aah- good girl!..” you praised her and she was like a dog in heat, so so happy to hear you praise her while she fucked you all slow. 

“Violet, it’s so big, mmmf —I need more of you, Violet, please— fuck me harder, Violet” 

“Fuck…”.  She just couldn’t keep you at bay from her strokes, in so she starts drilling into you.

“Oh fuck, yeah! Break me baby, break me.!”  You moaned as your ass recoiled back into her hips, such a soft nice round ass, piercings glistening from the moon light.

“Say it again”  she demanded, grunting through her teeth. 

“Break me, Violet” 

“Shit—-take it, take it, take it, fucking take it” 

Digging in your gushy cunt, another thrust and it angled in a way for Vi to feel it touch her clit, her moans were animalistic, right through her teeth hissing, “yesh,yesh,yesh,,yesh” she repeated as she beat it into you and to herself.

“Oh gods—-aah— haah-, I’m gonna cum, fuck!”  you let yelled out, 

“cum with me baby, cum with me” She moaned, grunting in your ear, as the strap kissed your g-spot again, another few deep visceral strokes, and you were done in, and so was Vi, both of you falling into the bed, legs squirming, Vi lazily still trying to ride out her orgasm, pumping into you on your side. 

ᥫ᭡

Tissues, water bottles, and an empty bottle of lube, surrounded the both of you, your leg was over her shoulder, her abs glistened, your forehead dripping in sweat. You gave her a hair claw clamp since her hair kept falling in her face, she was irritated about it, felt like it was cramping her style, and you’d laugh at her protest, but she listened regardless of it ‘ruining’ her style.

“Baby, are you tired?”  She asked, seeing you glow under her, sweat covered the both of you, going at it for so long, till twilight, you were completely enamored by her. Her tenacity to keep up with you, her perfect hair, her perfect nose, her body sculpted by hard work, her libido was just a plus, and her personality.. everything had you hooked. 

“No, I can keep going” you answered, gulping down some spit that built up from how good she’s fucked  you up in this postion.

“You sure?”  She said slowing down her strokes, unsure if you’re just saying that. ‘Mhm’, you said again, giving her a lazy smile, the strands of your hair sticking to the sides of your face, sweat in your brows, and all you can hear, plap, plap, plap, reverberating between you, after confirming you really are good to keep going.  

“I’ll spoil you until you’re satisfied, cupcake,”  she stated, teasing your nipple between her index finger and thumb.

“O-okay— haah-”

ᥫ᭡

A few more good quick deep strokes kissing your cervix and the both of climaxing once more.. finally caput, she fell down next to you from exhaustion, arm over you, her hand pressing into your sweat glistening stomach, pulling you into her also sweaty body. “Damn..” 

“Damn indeed, why the fuck did we do that?”  tiredly, panting hard, as so did she. 

“Horny..” she replied,

“Oh yeah..” you, sprawled your leg over hers, and she lifting her knee to your warm slit, just wanting to keep it close to her.

“Dummy” she taunted, kissing your shoulder tenderly, a smile crept up your face, relaxing into her touch. “Not dumb just gay” 

“Mhm”  You both laid there still panting, you touched yourself, your body jerking hard into her body. 

“Fuck, lanes�� you ruined me..” You claimed looking at your slicked fingers she gave you an mhm and kissed the back of your neck. 

“Was I worth the wait?”

“No, obviously I hated this entire thing, all of it fake, even this cum in my hand is fake” She tapped your face in protest. 

“Yeah.. you—you really were worth it, Vi” 

“Thought so” 

You both took a well needed nap curled up to each other. 

ᥫ᭡

Birds chirped, already awoke, sharing a nice chat, well deserved cuddle. You laid in her arms, still naked with each other, kissing her cheek with plenty of energy

“Awe you’re so shweet”  She complimented you, as you tip toed your fingers up and down her stomach, and she rubbing spheres around your shoulder, sometimes her name, short, or long.

“Fuckin’ love these cheeks, mmf” you kiss again and again, to just peppering her with kiss and she just lets out sugary giggles from your insistent kissing. 

“Oh, you like me very much, huh” 

"Lanes, I like you so much I might have to whisper to the stars about it" She climbed on top of you, admiring your astonishing eyes, your messy hair, you were absolutely adorable, " You'd whisper to the stars for me?" Your neck, face, ears all becoming inflamed with a non-stop of a lovely heart shaped inferno burning for none other than Violet Lanes. " Is that okay?" you asked, tucking a hair behind her ear, a sharp breath she took, latching her lip against her K9's, nodding eagerly. You'd pull her in for another sweet kiss, little giggles twirling in soft plush lips, that seem to have taken quite the fondness between these two, and so have your lèvre, frenching— so vigorously on that coffee table, wanting to kiss just as much as the lips from above~

ᥫ᭡

Now both in the tub sharing it, you both showered, cleaned each other, deciding together you both should take a hot bath for your legs. You sat in the warm comforting water, cupping water in your hand to pour it on her pretty breast. Watching the water run off the tips of her nipples. You were between her legs, made an excuse to be there so you could do this.  

Violet's eyes caressed you with wonder, mapping put your face, it glowed, and better had glowed after the kind of stress reducing fuck you both had. She had this thought in her mind thinking, what if I shared baths with her for the rest of my life? Wondering, what you and her futures could be like, wondering if your wrinkles could be the signs all she needs to know she’d be your best wife. She wants to see the skin that makes your eyes squint, get crows feet, not from crying but from the years that went by that she managed to have you smiling. The life that you deserve to have instead of having only moments with others. A lifetime of lifelines that connected you both again and again. 

“So.. “ you trailed off, not knowing where these words would land.

“Violet lanes.. I..” 

“Do you wanna go out with me?” She asks instead.

“Ughh, I was so ready!”  Her face matching her hair, she didn’t even think you were about to say that! She thought she was just a quick fuck.. well long fuck.. for the day and be casted aside since well— she figured she ruined everything by stepping over this line.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry you can say it!” 

“Nooo, I can’t “ you groaned, you placed your palm on your face, hiding your nose, and averting your gaze from hers as heat rises to your neck. It tickled her heart strings seeing you so bashful.. She wanted to ask you how long did you wait to say that? But it’ll have to wait another day.

“No no go ahead please,” she insisted, her arms lifting from the water reaching out for you, but you wouldn’t budge your hand from your face, she gave up, huffing out a chuckle.

You took a deep breath, removing your hand and into the water splashing, balling your fist. You gave her a serious yet not serious look. “Okay, Violet— uh, lanes.. will you go out with me?” 

“Yes!” 

“Okay!” You also shouted with joy. You put both of your hands hiding your awkward smile “fuck, now what?” A muffled sentence leaving your lips. 

“I dunno, we’re girlfriends now, we can think about that later” 

“Ah, my gosh you said it!” 

“I should be asking you for your hand in marriage after all of that”, she murmured under her breath. 

“Huh” before you could ask another question she stopped you with a kiss, a soft, pink cloud of a kiss, quirking your lips into a candied smile. 

“Nothing— I. We worry about it later. But for now, you’re mine and I’m yours” 

You bit your lip ..” ’kay..” 

Vi had stayed another night with you, couldn’t leave you after basically fucking you out of comission.. Alas she has a life! She wanted to stay longer but it was time to pick up Isha from school. She's in middle school now, top of her class, thanks to Ekko, and Jinx chiming in with the best ways to teach her. It gave Vander a break from working so hard at the bar.  It was morning time and right before she left she made you a cup of tea. 

You were sleeping, hair sprawled out on the pillow, drool dripping from your mouth. Vi pressed a hot mug up to your cheek, a soft groan coming out of you.

“Feeling stupid for fucking for so long? Hm?“  she taunted, your eyes full of sleep, still happy to see your girlfriend, fuck.. that’s your girlfriend now. You finally have a girlfriend, and its Miss lanes herself.. you wanted to scream it out to Zaun, that is yours and you belong to her.

“Yeah, I still can’t feel my legs..” you complained, rubbing your plush thigh. Vi took a seat next to you on your bed, freshly cleaned sheets, that were potent with Jamila. 

“Yeah that's what happens when you like pussy— well for you. I never done.. anything like that, nor for that long.. I mean sheesh”  She confessed, shaking her head, and trying her best not drool a reminiscent memory of how your piercings looked, and your sexy ass ricocheting against her-

“Til night til dawn..” you said, interrupting her thoughts.

“That’s how it is, the usual”  you continued, she whipped her head back to you.

“We’re going to be doing that often???” She asked her eyebrows making wrinkles on her forehead. You wanted to press those, but you could barely get up.

“No.” 

“We did that cause we’re new to each other, it was intense.. and.— we got carried away.” 

“You regret—“

“No! Hell no. I meant we were going at it like animals” 

“I did mention.. I fuck like one so— you were warned.” 

“And you’re not so bad yourself”  she continued, 

“Whats in the tea?” 

“Eucalyptus fruit.. and goji berries. Help you regain some energy” 

“Awe thank you babe” you took the warm mug in your hand, warmth embracing your fingers, taking a long sip from it, she even made sure it wasn’t too hot for you. You wanted to fucking kick your feet and holler.

ᥫ᭡

However the morning lesbianism was interrupted, her taking her leave. You had your black silk robe on, some cute pink slippers she got you last Christmas, walking her to the car. She told you to stay in bed and recover but you refused. Like the stubborn person you are. She was up against her door, as you gave her another kiss before she left to get isha. 

Lips colliding, soft murmurs of saying like you so much, both of you scared to even say ‘I love you’ just yet. Peppering more kisses on her neck, to her face, and back to her lips. She’d hold your waist, pulling you in a tight embrace, your tulip quivered at the memory from her hugging you last time. “Uh-uh, we’re not going back upstairs,” she comment, yet she’s the one lifting her leg up between your legs, “you do realize I have my robe on right? Not worried if it hikes up?” 

“Oh I know it’s not hiking up”, she embraced you closer taking a peek over you, sighing relief that it really isn’t.  “I’ll be back, okay?” 

“I know.. gonna miss you” 

“I could tell Jinx to-“ 

“Oh hell no, last time she came back with Isha, she had gave her fireworks to take to school, and you know, Isha did not give one flying fuck, about setting those off”

“Yeah…” she scratched the back of her head.

“Shit was cool though” you smacked her shoulder, barely doing anything, yet she acted as if she was in pain, quick to aid her she, grabbed you, twirling you around in the parking lot, both of you laughing, sinking into each other, you gave her another kiss. She set you down, her warmth lingering on you as the embrace came to a cease. A pout was bitten back by yourself, not wanting her to see you unfortunately ( in vi's opinion this is very fortunate) attachment to her, more than you were, those silly teasings, banter with tension... not anymore will she or won't she but definitely ᥫ᭡ . Before walking back up to your apartment, she kissed your temple, holding your neck, forehead touching yours, her signature move to silently tell you I love you. But of course, this woman of so much confidence didn't say it.. she couldn't too scared it was too soon or too late.. overthinking to the brim of her bright mind. The same problem befallen you, thinking Violet is too cool for just an I love you.. or thinking you can't just say that and you literally missed several things to do before saying. A date? when, meeting family, yes, already been between her legs and several other crevices that you oh so ravished, hell yeah, a proper date should be when you both feel like it.. Right? Maybe? Or will this be another long standing awaited line.. you've known Violet for 5 years, 2 as professionalism, the rest was history. Turned into unfolding legacies of stories to, tell one day.. one day to whomever for the girl you didn't even think would go as far as a kiss. Not to mention you hate kissing.. But for Violet.. your heart beat to her raw and powerful songs, no matter how different it beat, and so did hers. Violet's blues followed your trial of a walk, biting her knuckle to stifle a snicker at your attempt by yourself without her help... At least no one could say she didn't give you a good time. Sighing to herself, tapping her foot with excitement. She couldn’t wait to see you again. Ending the day with you on a high note. 

A/n: Hello, hello there, this is my first like seriously detailed one shot. And first erm.. adult adventure literature! I hope you had a nice time don’t forget to be drink water, and (if you’re a weed connoisseur.. make sure you take a hit for me too! ❤️‍🔥🍃) thank you! Mwah 💋 

Tags: @swaggycunts-blog and @theoreticalfreak thank you for asking to be tagged! <3

[atlabeth]

geyser

series masterlist

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader

summary: percy learns about the first girl luke castellan ever loved.

a/n: this is a lil sad. sorry about that. but i really like it and it came out of nowhere in like 2 days so i hope you enjoy despite the sadness. title from the mitski song

wc: 6.5k

warning(s): major character death; not shown but hangs over the whole fic. angst made angstier by fluffy flashbacks. mostly told through percy’s pov but includes luke, annabeth, and reader povs

also if you saw this before on another account DONT WORRY... that account was also me. im just doing some stuff behind the scenes right now as i figure stuff out lol i promise no plagiarism is going on

Percy thought that his head might explode. 

He didn’t know how he was still walking, honestly. His mom died, he killed a— no, the— Minotaur, all the Greek myths were real and his dad was one of them, and now he had to deal with that freak accident with Clarisse and the toilets. 

At least he would be ready next time she tried to beat him up. Percy had been the new kid enough to know there would be a next time.

All he could do was stare at the Minotaur horn in his hands, the only sign that what happened outside the border was real. The horn in his hands and the hole in his heart. 

Percy swallowed the lump in his throat. He’d been thrown into the deep end, and the only thing on his mind was when he would start to drown. 

“Hey.” Percy looked up to see the counselor he’d met earlier with Annabeth—Luke. He tossed a ziploc bag at him and he caught it, taking a moment to look at what was in it. 

“I stole you some toiletries from the camp store,” he explained. “Thought it might make you feel more at home.” 

“…Thanks.” He didn’t know if Luke was joking, but the damage had already been done. And it was the nicest thing someone had done for him so far. He set it down next to his Minotaur shoebox. “Is this the best that it gets?” 

Luke’s lips quirked up in a slight smile. “For now. We’re a little crowded, if you couldn’t tell.” 

“Just a little bit.” Percy stood up from his sleeping bag and worked out the knot in his shoulder. “Where’s your bed? Assuming you have one.” 

“I couldn’t wrangle all these cats without some back support,” he said, and he pointed to a bed in the corner. It was the only one on its own without a bunk, and he had a fair amount of decorations. Counselor privileges, he figured. Percy walked over, Luke trailing behind him. 

“Nice place,” he said. Percy picked up the Yankee’s cap on his bedside table and nodded as he looked back at him. “Nice taste.” 

“It’s for Annabeth,” Luke said. “She wanted us to match.” 

Percy nodded again in approval. “Good taste for both of you.”

Luke had various other things around — an alarm clock knocked over next to the baseball cap, a huskie sticker on the wall half-scraped off, a poster for an album he didn’t recognize. 

But the thing that caught his eye was a polaroid hanging on the wall, surrounded by a smattering of others varying in size. 

The first one had to be an old picture—Luke didn’t have his scar, and the biggest smile stretched across his face. He had a girl close with an arm slung around her waist, and she might’ve been smiling even more than Luke. A bright energy emanated around her, something that must have transferred through the picture, because Percy found himself feeling a little better just looking at her. He wondered if she was a camper. 

His eyes flicked to the next picture, which was another one of Luke and that girl. They were both laughing as she tried to put a blue hat on Luke’s head, and he protested with a hand on her wrist. They were in the forefront of a baseball game, Percy noticed.

There were other pictures, too—Luke, a girl dressed all punk, and what looked like a young version of Annabeth, most notably—but a majority of them were either Luke and that girl, or the girl all on her own. In every single one, she beamed brighter than the sun. 

Percy pointed at the picture of Luke and the girl at the baseball game, his curiosity getting the better of him. “Who’s that?”

That seemed to catch Luke off-guard, his lips parting for a moment as if he wanted to say something. It barely took him any time to get back on track, but Percy found himself frowning. 

“That’s…” Luke cleared his throat, wet his lips, shook his head. “A friend. A very good friend.”

“Does she go here?” Percy asked. 

“She did.” 

He frowned. “Where is she, then?” 

“Percy—” Luke’s voice was strained, but he didn’t really notice as he went on. 

“I didn’t see her around,” he continued, “and you look pretty close.” 

Luke blinked a couple times, and Percy swore he could see the telltale glimmer of tears starting in his eyes. A muscle worked in his jaw, and suddenly Percy was worried that he’d said something horribly wrong. He had a talent for that, it seemed. 

Fortunately, he was saved by the bell—conch shell?—and something like relief flooded through Luke’s expression. Tension still coiled in his body. 

“Come on,” he said, that camp counselor smile coming back as he put his hand on Percy’s shoulder and guided him away from the enclave. “That means dinner’s about to start.”

Percy’s frown deepened as curiosity won out again. “Was she your—”

“You don’t wanna be late,” Luke continued, ignoring his attempt. “I assume you’re pretty hungry after two days spent out?”

Well, that only made him want to push harder. But Percy figured he wouldn’t get anything out of him—especially not now. 

“…Yeah,” Percy said. “Starving.”

An odd look flickered across his face, but again, it only lasted for a second before he was back to normal. He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, “Eleven! Fall in!” 

Percy was at the back of the line by virtue of him being the new kid, and he found himself looking back at that picture of Luke and the girl. He didn’t know why, but something drew him to her. Before Percy could think about it more, the line was moving and his growling stomach drew his attention away. 

He would have plenty of time to ask Luke about it later. 

Or rather, ask him and piss off the only person who’d tried to be his friend so far. 

…Gods. 

Maybe he was going to drown sooner than he thought. 

-

“Luke—” 

“No!” 

“Luke, please!” 

“Annabeth will kill me if she knows—” 

“She won’t know!” 

“Alright, alright— stay still, you two!” 

Your mother laughed from behind the camera as you and Luke fought with each other, you trying your damnedest to get your Red Sox cap on his head as he tried his damnedest to stop you. The frantic laughter on both sides made it a little difficult for either of you to succeed in your quest, but eventually, you got the rock up the hill and the hat on his head. 

“Take the picture, Mom!” you exclaimed, pulling Luke even closer by his arms so he couldn’t get it off. “I need the proof!” 

“I knew this was a bad idea,” Luke groaned, staring at the camera as you wrapped your arm around his side and leaned into him. He could already imagine your victorious smile, brighter than the sun beating down on them in the stadium, and just the thought of it made one of his own flit across his lips. 

“Oh, shut up, Castellan,” you said. “You chose to come to this game. Everyone’s gonna know you’re a Red Sox fan now.”

“You said you wouldn’t tell her!” Luke defended, wrenching his arms free of your control to take the hat off his head. “I don’t even care about baseball!” 

“You care so much about it,” you said cloyingly, “and you’re ride or die for the Boston Red Sox.” 

“If you say a single word—” 

“Okay, kids!” Your mother pointed at the seats next to her. “The game’s about to start—you can keep arguing, but only if you sit down so I can see.” 

“Sorry, Mom.” You grinned at her as you pulled Luke over to your seats—they were a step up from nosebleeds, but they were the ones closest to the balcony so you could at least peer over the railing down to the diamond.

“It’s alright, sweetheart.” She glanced at Luke with a smile, and he could really see where you got it from. “We’ve gotta make him a fan somehow.” 

“I guess I can live with the brand.” Luke set the cap back on your head once you were seated, purposefully pulling the brim a little over your eyes, and he smiled at you. “Even though it looks better on you, anyways.” 

“You just don’t have what it takes to be a Red Sox fan in the heart of Yank territory,” you mused, pushing the hat back up so you could see. “It’s fine.” 

Luke rolled his eyes, but he could hardly bite back his smile. 

“I am glad you came, though,” you said, glancing back at him. “I’m glad you came with me in the first place. This is gonna be the best semester.”

“Thanks for having me,” Luke said. “It’s… it’s been a while since I’ve left camp.” 

“Fingers crossed for no monster attacks, eh?” You held up your hand. “At least, not during the game. I could live with it happening any other time.” 

“Don’t speak it into existence,” your mom said. “We’re going to have a monster-free school year.” 

To humor her, you made a claw over your heart and pushed out. She hummed in satisfaction, and you looked over at Luke. ���It’s gonna be fine.” 

“Yeah,” he said. “Because two kids like us aren’t gonna draw any attention.” 

“Oh, I know we will,” you said. “But I know it’ll be fine.” 

Luke frowned. “How can you be so sure?” 

You shrugged with a smile. “I’ve got you.”

And in that moment, he was thankful for the freakish heat that honestly made no sense in the spring—at least it covered up any sign of what your words did to him. 

Luke thought you were joking when you asked him if he wanted to come back home with you for the school year. He didn’t know why you wanted to go back in the first place, being a Big Three kid that apparently had a death wish, but the thought of him leaving camp was almost inconceivable. 

Even after you assured him you weren’t joking, he still wasn’t sure. He was on the run with you for three years, then… 

Well, he couldn’t think about it for too long. But Luke had been on the outskirts of regular society for so long, doing nothing but fighting for his life, that he didn’t know if he could actually function at a normal school.

But it felt right for you two to get some normal time together after you were separated for so long. It took him a semester to decide, but one day during your usual Iris message conversations, he told you he’d love to spend the rest of the year in Boston with you. Luke still remembered the grin you wore, your disbelieving but victorious cheers, the apology you yelled back at your mother for your noise. 

Luke watched you as you talked with your mom, discussing Boston’s chances and player statistics and baseball jargon he didn’t think he’d ever understand, and he knew he would sit through a thousand Red Sox games if it meant he would get to keep seeing your smile.

You must have felt his eyes on you, because you glanced over at him. “Are you okay?” 

Luke smiled. Gods, he was so glad you were here. 

“Never better.” 

-

“That one nearly got me,” Luke said. 

Percy huffed as he picked up his sword from the ground—he was pretty sure he would officially lose his mind if Luke disarmed him with that stupid move one more time. One benefit to the Hermes cabin being too scared to associate with him after getting claimed was that he wasn’t making a fool out of himself in front of other people. 

“Maybe I can only beat you when I pour water on myself,” he said. 

Luke chuckled as he took a bottle from the cooler on the side and held it up. “Wanna try?” 

He shook his head. “I think my arms will fall off if I keep going with you.” 

He tipped his shoulder. “Fair.” 

Percy stared at the ground as Luke gathered himself, trying to put the free range thoughts roaming around his head in order. It didn’t help that he’d gained a million questions after Poseidon claimed him, and it didn’t help that there’s been a newest addition to his dream last night. 

He still felt strange asking Luke about it, but he had to know more about her. Percy didn’t know why it felt like his mission to find out who this mysterious girl was, or why he felt that strange connection to her. Maybe it was the way Luke acted whenever he brought her up, maybe it was that she’d popped up in his dream next to him at the very end, maybe it was just plain old curiosity. 

“I’m not supposed to be alive,” Percy said, breaking the silence. “I could die at any time in a bunch of different horrible ways. So will you tell me more about that girl on your wall?”  

Again, Luke seemed to be caught off guard by it. Percy heard the crunch of plastic as his hand clenched ever so slightly around the bottle, and he tried to cover it up with an arched eyebrow. “Why do you want to know so badly?” 

He shrugged. What was he supposed to say? 

“I’m curious,” he decided. 

Luke huffed a dry laugh before he took a sip of water, and he stared off into the distance for a while. He did a lot of staring whenever this girl was brought up. They looked like they were best friends in those pictures, but maybe whatever they had ended badly. And if she was a demigod too…

Well, it would make sense why he didn’t want to talk about her. 

“You know that phrase about curiosity?” Luke asked. 

“And how it killed the cat?” 

He nodded, drinking some more. “It goes double for demigods.” 

“Everything else wants to kill me,” Percy said. “So curiosity’s gonna have to get in line.” 

Luke’s laugh was a little more genuine this time, and he shook his head. “I guess I can tell you a little about her. You actually probably have a right to know.” 

“Is she a half-blood?” Percy asked immediately. 

He nodded. “Yeah.” 

“Who’s her parent?” 

Luke capped his water bottle and looked at Percy for a good, long moment. His face glowed in the warm afternoon sun, his scar cast in a softer light than usual. The scar used to unnerve him, but he’d gotten used to it after weeks staring at it during sword fighting. 

“She was a child of Poseidon, Percy,” he said. “Just like you.” 

Percy felt short of breath, like Luke had just knocked his sword out of his hand and shoved him to the ground. But he stood on his own two legs that somehow still worked, and Luke hadn’t moved. 

He had a sister? 

“I have a sister?” 

“…Had,” Luke corrected. “She… she died a few years back.” 

A vice latched onto Percy’s heart. He was still having a hard time breathing. No wonder Luke always used past tense when he was talking about her. 

He had a sister, he wasn’t alone, but he was because she was dead. And if Luke was one of her friends, that meant she died young. 

Gods. 

“What about their oath?” Percy asked, trying to ignore the aching in his chest. “I’m already on thin ice for my whole existing thing. How did Poseidon get away with two kids so close to each other?” 

Luke shrugged. “I’ve never known why gods do things. Her mother was a great woman, though—I could see what drew Poseidon to her against the oath.” 

One half of Percy wanted to ask every question that kept popping into his head. The other side of him wanted to break down and cry. 

“How did you meet her?” 

“We ran into each other when we were both young,” he said. “Both child runaways, both demigods, both New Englanders—we decided to rough it out on the road together. Couldn’t be any worse than doing it on our own.”

Percy tried to imagine it. A young Luke and a younger version of that girl—maybe Percy’s age—living together in the wilderness and fighting monsters. Surviving off of nothing but their wit and skill, facing death each day before they’d even reached middle school. 

“It… it didn’t happen then, did it?” he asked hesitantly. 

Luke shook his head. “Couple years later. All we did was watch each other’s backs out there.” 

Percy couldn’t help himself. “What happened to her?”  

“The same thing that happens to everyone,” Luke said flatly. “There’s a reason I’m the oldest one here.” 

“That doesn’t make it better,” Percy insisted. “It— it makes it worse, Luke. You see that, right?”  

Luke stared at his empty water bottle then tossed it back into the cooler. When his gaze met Percy’s, he was shocked by how… tired he looked. Beyond exhausted—bone-weary. Percy wanted to say more, but he didn’t get the chance. 

“This isn’t good conversation,” Luke said, “and it’s getting late. You should hit the showers before dinner.” 

The sun still beat down on them, bright and angry in the sky, but Percy provided no argument. He had a lot to think about. 

Before they went their separate ways, Percy stopped and looked back at him. “I’m sorry she’s gone, Luke.” 

Luke’s gaze went unfocused for a moment, his eyes growing glossy. “So am I.” 

-

Percy sat on the floor of the Hermes cabin in the corner that used to be his, staring at his meager belongings. He had to decide what to take on his quest, which was made easier by the fact that he hardly had anything to his name. Things could always be worse, though. At least he would have a change of clothes. 

He should’ve been doing this in his own cabin, but it felt too empty, too suffocating in its silence. Eleven was still more familiar. He heard the door open and saw Luke walk in, and his eyes lit up when he saw Percy. 

“Hey,” he said. “I wanted to see you before you left. How’re you feeling pre-quest?” 

“Like the world’s about to end,” he said. 

Luke’s lips twitched into a smile as he sat on the bed across from Percy. “Understandable. It kinda is.” 

“It’s just overwhelming.” Percy shoved the unfolded clothes into his backpack. “I have to clear mine and my dad’s names and get Zeus’s bolt back, or else war will start. No pressure at all.” 

“You were chosen for a reason,” Luke said. “You may not see it, Percy, but you’ve improved a lot since you got here. If anyone can do this, I think it’s you.” 

Percy looked up at him, and he was reminded of the way their last conversation went. He was asking before he could really stop himself. 

“I could die on this quest and never see you again,” Percy said. “So could you tell me more about my sister before I go?”  

Luke smiled wistfully and sighed. “You really won’t let this go, will you?” 

“It’s not really something you just let go,” he said. “Besides, I… I saw her in my dream last night.” 

Luke’s smile faded. “You did?”  

Percy nodded. “For a split second, but I know it was her. I felt the same way I did whenever I looked at her pictures. And… it’s the second time she’s shown up.” 

He let out a long sigh and shook his head, his gaze trailing off to the wall. He always looked so much older when he talked about this girl, like he was a war veteran reminiscing on his lost love. And from what he’d gathered, it might not have been too far off. 

“I told you we ran together when we were young,” he said, and Percy nodded. “We were both nine, and it should’ve been terrible, but she had a way of making everything better. Always found the bright side of things, was always able to make me laugh.” 

“She was from Massachusetts—right in the middle of Boston.” Luke chuckled as he looked at Percy. “Huge Red Sox fan.” 

Percy grimaced. “We all make mistakes.” 

Luke smiled, though it faded a bit. “We got separated for a while, but we found each other again when I got to camp. Things were more peaceful than they are now, so she’d been claimed at camp pretty quickly. I figure Poseidon wanted her to have the protection of him openly standing behind her after what happened.” 

He frowned. “What do you mean, ‘what happened’?” 

Luke shook his head. “That would be an awful story to send you off on.” 

Percy wanted to protest, but he didn’t. Luke was probably right—Percy didn’t want to make him relive it and then have to go on a death quest right after.

“A happier part, then,” he suggested.

“She ran away from home as a kid to protect her mom, but now that she had an idea of what she was doing, she started going back to school. She invited me to stay with her during the school year one year, and I accepted. That—” Luke’s throat bobbed, and the other hand clenched into a fist— “that was when she died.” 

In his stunned silence, Luke got up and went over to his alcove. He pulled the drawer open on his bedside table and pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper. It must’ve been folded and crumpled a million other times in messier ways by all the creases he could see, but when Luke opened it, he could see handwriting all over the front. 

A letter. 

“We Iris messaged each other constantly while she was at school,” he said, “and we wrote back and forth when we couldn’t. This was the last letter she sent me.” 

Percy’s first instinct was to say he wouldn’t be able to read it, but he realized that he didn’t really care. These were words that his sister wrote—he would sit here the rest of the day forcing sentences to make sense if that was what it took. 

So he took the letter when Luke offered it. 

To the one and only Luke Castellan, 

My mom said yes! After a very long interrogation (she now knows basically everything about you) and a million promises that you would be as careful as possible and that you were good enough at sword fighting to take down anything that could come after us, she said you can spend the year here. We spent a couple hours every day making my mom’s study into a guest room, so you have a place to stay.

I’m an idiot that didn’t bring enough drachmas so that’s why I have to send this letter—hopefully it gets to you soon enough, because we’re gonna come get you a week before my winter break is over. Mom is letting me drive down because she says I have to get my permit soon. It makes sense that my first big test is getting to you. If we don’t make it, it’s because we died in a fiery crash. 

Just kidding. I’m a great driver. But tell me some of your favorite songs when you reply and I’ll burn a CD for the ride—I figured out how to use LimeWire. Oh, and throw in a couple drachmas with the envelope so I can Iris message you next time. I miss your face and your voice, and my hand is cramping up writing all of this. 

But this is so exciting! I can’t wait to introduce you to all my friends at school, and show you my favorite places in the city, and make you into a Red Sox fan. And you can come to my soccer games— I’m the greatest forward there is. 

Jokes aside, I’m going to make sure you have the best time. We’ll spend every second together, Luke. We’re gonna make up for the time we lost. 

I can’t wait to see you again.

Your hurricane.  

It took Percy a long time to get through it with the words swimming all over, and it didn’t help that his vision had grown blurry. 

Tears, he realized as he blinked, and he did it again to make sure they wouldn’t fall. He couldn’t cry in front of Luke, not over a girl he didn’t even know—even if she was his sister. But maybe he was grieving that—the fact that he would never get to know her. 

“God, man. I— I’m sorry.” Percy couldn’t think of anything else to say. “She sounds like she was great.” 

Luke couldn’t even manage a smile this time as he stared at the wall. Percy was surprised he could even talk to him about it. 

“She was,” he murmured. “You would’ve liked her. And gods,” this time, a bit of a smile broke through despite it all, “she would have loved a little brother.” 

“I’m gonna make her proud on this quest,” Percy vowed. “I’m gonna clear our dad’s name for her.”

Something in Luke’s gaze had changed—sadness, almost regret. “You’re a good kid, Percy. I hope your quest doesn’t change that.” 

I hope I come back alive, he wanted to say. But given the topic matter, he didn’t. Percy carefully folded the letter back up and handed it to Luke. 

“Thank you for telling me about her, man,” Percy said. “I… I know it can’t be easy.”

Luke let out a shuddering breath as he stared at the closed letter—Percy wondered how many times he must have sat in this same position, reading her words. “No better way to honor her memory than helping her brother.” He glanced at Percy. “I see a lot of her in you.” 

He’d been wondering if he had anything in common with her. Percy felt a sudden flare of anger shoot through him—it wasn’t fair that she was dead. Poseidon was a god, and she was a teenager. He should have saved her. 

Percy’s mouth was drier than a desert. A part of him wanted to curl up in a ball and sob over the sister he never got the chance to know, but the other part of him knew—from what little Luke had told him about her—that she wouldn’t want him to. 

“I should get going,” Percy said, standing up from the floor. “We have to leave for the quest soon, and Annabeth and Grover are probably wondering where I am, and…” 

Percy trailed off, and Luke nodded in understanding. He turned around and took one of the photos off the wall—one of you alone in the middle of a park, wearing a bucket hat and absolutely beaming. 

“You deserve to have a part of her with you,” he said. “For good luck.” 

He felt himself choking up, and he pushed it down as he accepted the photo. “Thanks, man. It means a lot.”

“Good luck, Percy,” Luke said. “You’ve got a lot of people rooting for you.”

Percy found himself studying the picture of you once he made it outside, trying to memorize your face. With your wide, infectious smile that emanated pure sunlight, he could have mistaken you for an Apollo kid. But when he looked at you, he got that same warmth that he felt every time he imagined his father. 

“I won’t let you down,” he murmured. “I promise.” 

-

After sleeping in his train seat for half the day, Percy vowed to never complain about his bed in Cabin Three again. He was gonna be going down to the Underworld with permanent cricks in his neck. 

Grover was still sound asleep—Percy envied him for how easily it came to him in the worst conditions—but thankfully, Annabeth wasn’t. Her gaze was focused on the view as their train chugged along. 

Percy cleared his throat in a flawless attempt at getting her attention, and it worked. 

“You’re awake,” she said. 

“Unfortunately.” Percy sighed. “How much longer do you think it’ll be?” 

“Another day, at least,” she said. “And we’ve got a layover in St. Louis.” 

“St. Louis,” he hummed. “Nice.” 

They sat in silence for a while—there wasn’t much to talk about when they were coming off of two— or was it three, now?—near-death experiences. But eventually, Annabeth cleared her throat, taking a page from his book, and it worked again. 

“There— there’s probably something you should know,” Annabeth said, and that worked even better than clearing her throat. “You’re not the only Big Three kid to come through Camp Half-blood lately.” 

“I know,” he said. “Grover and Luke explained it.” 

Her eyes widened slightly and she leaned forward in her seat. “Luke did?” 

“…Yeah. You all already told me about Thalia.” Percy glanced away, suddenly feeling a chill in the train car. “Luke told me about my sister.” 

Annabeth went silent. 

“It’s okay,” he said. “I kind of annoyed Luke until he told me. Doesn’t really seem like a subject people at camp like to talk about.” 

“I’m just surprised he did,” she murmured. “They were… they were close, Percy. Her death destroyed him—Thalia and your sister. All of it’s complicated.”  

“Yeah,” he sighed, “I got some of that.” 

“I only knew her for a year at camp, but everyone loved her,” she said. “She was nice. Popular. Always helped when she could, always had the biggest, most infectious smile on her face.” Annabeth looked down at her hands. “She didn’t deserve the fate she got.” 

Percy didn’t think he’d ever grieved so much for someone he never knew. “But her and Luke—were they…?” 

“Yeah,” Annabeth said, “they were a thing, later on.” 

That seemed to be all she wanted to say on the matter. Percy decided not to push. 

“How did you meet her?” he asked. 

Annabeth’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I met her on the day I thought I would die.”

-

For the first time in her life, Annabeth Chase couldn’t think. 

It had all happened so fast. One second she was running with Luke and Thalia and Grover, praying to her mother and any other gods that would listen to make the horde of monsters let up even a centimeter.

The next, she’d collapsed on the ground, never so grateful to have grass and dirt and dust in her face. But she could hear Luke yelling, barely able to make it out in her delirious state—she didn’t know when she’d last had a sip of water, and they’d been running for at least three miles—but he sounded hysterical. 

She remembered her last clear thought: they weren’t going to make it. 

But they had. They had, so why was Luke losing his mind? 

Annabeth pulled herself up from the ground—how long had she been bleeding out of those slashes on her arm?—and looked for the rest of her friends. Luke wasn’t yelling anymore, instead arguing with someone she didn’t recognize in a bright orange shirt. Grover’s furry legs trembled as he stared down the hill they’d just gotten up, completely silent, and Thalia— 

Where was Thalia? 

Annabeth tried to get up but her legs gave out almost immediately, and steady arms caught her before she could fall to the ground again. Kind eyes served to ease some of her panic—she was older than Annabeth, maybe around Luke or Thalia’s age. 

Thalia— 

“Hey, you’re okay,” the voice said, and Annabeth’s attention was drawn back to you. “I’ve got you.” 

“Where’s Thalia?” she blurted out, because now she couldn’t think of anything else. 

Your brows creased and you glanced back down the hill—Annabeth did too, and she saw Grover and Luke arguing with each other. Or rather, Luke was yelling at him as Grover anxiously hooked his hands through his hair. 

“I don’t know,” you said, “but right now, I need to make sure you’re okay. Are you hurt?” 

Annabeth absentmindedly held up her arm, but she was only focused on her friends. Why wasn’t Thalia with them? Why was Luke so upset?

You cursed under your breath in Ancient Greek as you cradled her arm, and you looked back down the hill. Annabeth could see at least half a dozen other kids. 

“We’ve got two half-bloods and a satyr, one injured!” you yelled back. “Get Molly and Brayden!” 

“Three,” Annabeth found herself saying. “There’s three half-bloods—” 

“Annabeth!” 

Her head shot up at the sound of Luke calling her name as he bounded over, and her eyes widened at the blood steadily spidering across the fabric of his shirt. 

“Luke, you’re hurt—” 

“I’m fine,” he insisted. “It’s fine.” 

“We have Apollo kids coming,” you said, looking up at him, still cradling Annabeth’s arm. “We’ll get y—” 

Your sentence stuck in your throat, and Annabeth could see tears welling in your eyes as your brows furrowed. She thought Luke’s eyes might burst out of his skull as he stared at you, his lips parted but nothing coming out. Neither of you were able to form words. 

When he finally did get something out, it was a single name. One Annabeth knew by heart, one that he’d mourned for years. 

“Luke?” you whispered. 

Before he had the chance to do anything, two teenagers got over the hill and called out your name, the same one Luke used. He always said you were dead, but you clearly weren’t dead, because you were here and you had her arm in your grasp and while your hands were cold, they weren’t cold enough to be dead— 

“Molly’s gonna take care of you,” you said, looking back at Annabeth and cutting off her inner dialogue. “She’ll get you to the infirmary and heal you up, okay?” 

“My friends—” 

“They’re gonna be okay too,” you said. “I promise.” 

Annabeth looked up at Luke, and he nodded. “We’ll be with you soon, Annabeth. We— we have to talk about some things.” 

So she went with Molly down the hill, and Annabeth put pressure on her bleeding wound when she told her to—it had started to sting like hell now that her adrenaline was fading. 

She looked back just in time to see you and Luke share the tightest hug ever. 

The hug of two people who realized they weren’t seeing ghosts, Annabeth thought. 

-

You bolted up in bed, eyes wide and your chest heaving as you rapidly sucked in air. Your fingers found purchase in your bedsheets, desperate for something familiar—it took a second for you to recognize your surroundings, that you weren’t in an endless void, but your childhood bedroom offered little comfort.  

You ran a hand over your forehead, damp with sweat, as you tried to calm down. Your breathing slowed, but you couldn’t shake that awful feeling that hung over you in your sleep. 

Your nightmares were getting worse, you knew that much. That raspy, demented voice used to be a rarity, and now it appeared every night. You could usually deal with your nightmares, but the sense of absolute dread that voice and the pit fostered in you was too much. You hadn’t managed to sleep through the night once since you came home for the school year.

You could deal with the monsters—to you, this was the worst part of your godly blood.

A knock rattled on the door out of nowhere, and you nearly jumped out of your skin. The only thing that calmed you down was the thought that monsters didn’t knock. 

“Come in,” you croaked, your throat drier than a desert. 

Thankfully, a monster hadn’t come to make your night even more miserable. Luke stood in the doorway, his eyebrows creased in concern, messy curls hanging just above his eyes. He wore the Red Sox t-shirt you’d bought for him at the game you dragged him to, and in your addled state, you didn’t even think to tease him about it. 

“Are you okay?” He should’ve been as disoriented as you, but his alerted eyes told a different story. 

You could only think of one thing. “How did you know?” 

Luke’s lips parted for a moment, as if he hadn’t even considered it. “I could just feel it.”

You managed a smile despite every atom in your body screaming at you. “I think that means you can come in.” 

He closed the door behind him, and you shifted over in your bed to make room for him. There wasn’t much in a twin, but you made it work. Luke’s weight pressed into the mattress, making you adjust your position, and it was more comforting than any amount of blankets. 

“You’re so cold,” he murmured, laying the back of his hand against your arm. “How do you live like that?” 

“Blame my dad,” you said. “I’ve got water in my blood.” 

“I think that’s probably a bad thing,” Luke said, and you knocked your shoulder into his with a huff. 

“You know what I mean.” 

Luke let his hand fall back in his lap, and as you brought your knees up to your chest, you pulled the covers with them. 

“So,” Luke said, glancing at you, “what’s got you awake at the witching hour?” 

“The usual,” you mumbled. 

“Nightmares that might be prophetic?” he asked. 

You made a lazy gesture with your hand. “Bingo.” 

“The worst sense of dread imaginable?” 

“Bullseye.” 

“I’m sorry,” he said. 

You shrugged. “It’s nothing I can’t deal with.” 

“You don’t always have to put on a front, y’know,” Luke said. You felt his eyes on you. “You don’t always have to be strong.” 

“I’m naturally strong,” you said with mock austerity. “Comes with the god for a dad.” 

Luke chuckled and shook his head. “You know what I mean.” 

“Yeah,” you murmured. 

You leaned into his side, fitting your head into the crook of his neck. Luke wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer, and you let out a contented sigh. 

That voice in your nightmares seemed so small when you had Luke. 

“Can you stay?” you asked softly. 

He didn’t hesitate. “Of course.” 

“Just like old times,” you whispered. 

“Just like old times,” he agreed. 

Luke ran hot, and you’d never been more thankful for it as you fully settled into his side. Icy blood ran through your veins, and you let out a shaky sigh. You could hear his steady breathing, feel his heartbeat through his chest, and the anxiety from earlier began to steadily fade. You never felt safer than when you were with Luke. 

There was something between you—you weren’t that stupid—but you hadn’t talked about it. With you and Luke, it was just… you and Luke. You didn’t have to put a label to it. 

How could you put a label to your relationship, when you’d spent your first few years together fighting for each day, and then the next few thinking the other was dead? 

Maybe someday, you would talk about it. But for now, this was more than enough. 

“Don’t worry,” Luke murmured in your ear as your eyes began to droop. “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.” 

And by the gods, you believed him. 

[rafecameronssl4t]

Trust who? || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader love island au

A/n: during this I was thinking of that one kordell and Serena edit with this song and the beat drop is literally when reader sees the clip of Rafe and the casa amor girl during movie night!!!!!!!! ALSO im so sorry for this to take so long to be posted :/ PART ONE IS HERE

Warnings: just angst

Word count: 2,937

MASTERLIST (love island au masterlist)

The night was heavy with unspoken tension. Movie night, usually a time for lighthearted fun or harmless drama, was anticipated by everyone in the villa. You sat stiffly on one of the large outdoor sofas, flanked by a couple of the girls who were clearly trying to be there for you. The two Casa Amor girls were off to the side, Nakia sitting beside the other girl, her eyes flickering to Rafe every so often, like a lioness watching her prey.

Across on the other lounge were where the boys were sitting. Rafe's face was unreadable—stoic, like a statue—but he hadn't glanced your way yet. The screen flickered to life, and the names of the clips appeared in bold text, each one more unsettling than the last: Temptations and Betrayals, Crying Angel, and The Dark Nakia Rises were only some of them.

“Oh, this is going to be amazing,” you said, your voice heavy with sarcasm, though a hint of venom lingered beneath the surface. The girls around you laughed nervously, their giggles thin and hollow against the weight of the moment. No amount of levity could mask the tension that thickened the air. Nakia shifted in her seat, throwing you a smirk before turning her attention to the screen.

“I’ll pick Crying Angel,” she said, her tone deliberate, as if the title alone wasn’t designed to cut you open. The video played, and there you were, seated in the glam room, your face buried in your hands. The sound of your muffled sobs filled the air, and your voice, shaky and broken, cut through the villa like a blade. “I don’t want to be here anymore,” you admitted through your tears.

“I thought he cared about me. I really did.” One of the girls wrapped an arm around you in the clip, murmuring softly, “You’re stronger than this. Don’t let him break you.” But you shook your head, your anguish palpable. “I stayed loyal to him. I could’ve coupled up. But no, I waited for him because I thought we had something real. And then he walks in with her like I never even mattered. I’m done! I’m so done.”

As the screen went dark, the silence that followed was deafening. The air felt too thick to breathe. A few gasps rippled through the group, and some of the boys shifted uncomfortably in their seats, casting sideways glances at each other before stealing sympathetic looks your way. You sat still, your face a perfect mask of indifference.

Not a single muscle twitched as you kept your gaze fixed ahead, refusing to let them see how deeply those moments of vulnerability still stung. Across the firepit, Rafe was motionless, his jaw clenched so tightly that you could see the tension rippling through his neck. His blue eyes were glued to the now-black screen, his face unreadable but undeniably stricken.

~

When Sofia’s turn came, a flicker of mischief danced in her eyes. She leaned forward, her lips curving into a smirk, and you caught her gaze, exchanging a conspiratorial glance. You straightened slightly, the faintest hint of a smirk playing at your own lips as you braced yourself for what was coming next. “I’ll pick The Dark Nakia Rises,” Sofia said, her voice light with faux innocence.

The group erupted into a mix of cheers and nervous laughter, all eyes shifting to Nakia, whose face had drained of colour. You broke the tension with an almost unnervingly calm tone, delivering your jab with a straight face. “Oh, Nakia. I bet you’re absolutely shitting yourself, babe.” Nakia forced a laugh, her discomfort palpable. “I’m not,” she said weakly, glancing toward Rafe for reassurance.

But he didn’t meet her gaze. His eyes were locked on the firepit, his face a storm of emotions he was trying—and failing—to suppress. The clip began. The sound of the kitchen in Casa Amor filled the room, and Nakia was standing with a few of the other girls. Their voices could be heard in the background as they gossiped, oblivious to the camera that had captured their every word.

"So what do you think of him?" One of them questions Nakia as she smiles, looking over her shoulder to where Rafe was working out. “I mean, I’ve heard about his dad,” she said with a casual shrug, her tone dripping with entitlement. “And I know they’ve got money. Like, serious money.” She leaned back, twirling a strand of hair around her finger, clearly basking in the attention.

“He’s not exactly ugly either, is he? Could be a good setup if I play my cards right.” The other girls laughed, egging her on. “Yeah, but do you even like him?” one of them asked, her tone teasing. “Like him?” she repeated, laughing. “I mean, he’s alright. But come on, this isn’t about feelings. This is about strategy. And if he’s dumb enough to fall for it, that’s on him.” The clip ended, leaving the villa in stunned silence.

The clip ended, and the silence that followed was deafening. No one spoke at first. Your heart sank as you glanced from Rafe, his face pale, his jaw clenched in fury, to Nakia, whose confident smirk had vanished completely. Her face was a mask of panic, eyes darting around as the weight of her words settled over everyone.

You could barely breathe as you stared at her. “Holy fucking shit, dude,” one of the boys muttered, breaking the silence as he turned to Rafe, who hadn’t moved an inch. He was staring at the ground, seething, his fists clenched at his sides. “Nakia, what the actual fuck?” another girl asked, her voice filled with disgust as she turned to face her. The room was heavy with the collective judgment.

Everyone was watching her now, and Nakia could do nothing but stammer, her voice high-pitched and defensive. Your words hit harder than you expected, and Nakia shrank back, her face flushing with embarrassment. “That is so fucked up,” one of the guys added, his tone harsh as he shook his head in disbelief.

Nakia opened her mouth to respond, but her words faltered. She looked on the verge of tears, her confidence completely shattered. The air was thick with tension, and everyone could feel it—Rafe’s rage, your frustration, Nakia’s panic. “You’re really going to sit there like that?” you finally said, your voice steady, but there was a bitter edge to it. “Like you didn’t hear her?”

Rafe’s head snapped up, his expression unreadable. But you could see the storm brewing in his eyes. “Don’t start with me, Y/n,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. You raised an eyebrow, unfazed by his warning. “Oh, I’m sorry. Am I not allowed to call out the fact that this whole thing is a fucking joke to you?” Your voice was sharp, cutting through the stunned silence of the villa.

You gestured towards Nakia without sparing her a glance. “That I’ve been here crying my eyes out, while you’re over there being a pawn in her game?” Nakia stiffened, her face pale. “That was taken out of context!” she stammered, her voice high-pitched and defensive. “I was just joking—” “Oh, you were joking?” you snapped, cutting her off, your voice rising with every word.

“You thought it was funny to admit you’re using him? That his feelings don’t matter to you as long as you get what you want?” You shook your head, your voice dripping with disdain. “That’s not just a joke, Nakia. That’s manipulation. Plain and simple." “That is so fucked up,” one of the guys muttered, breaking the tense silence.

Nakia’s gaze darted around the group, her eyes glassy as though she was on the verge of tears. You let out a dry, bitter laugh and leaned back on the couch, Sofia's hand finding yours. “I just can’t believe I was crying my heart out over this shit,” you muttered, your voice shaky. You leaned back against the cushions, exhaling deeply to steady yourself.

~

“Alright, my turn. Let’s go with Betrayals and Temptations,” One of the boys announced, his tone a mix of excitement and dread. “Of-fucking-course,” you muttered under your breath, rolling your eyes. You already knew what this clip would show. The title was self-explanatory, and the dread in your stomach only grew as the screen lit up.

The scene began with Rafe and Nakia in the Casa Amor pool. Nakia sat perched on the edge, her legs skimming the surface, her posture relaxed and confident. Rafe stood in the water, gazing up at her like she was the only person in the world. “So, would you say you’re closed off, or…?” Nakia asked, her voice playful as she tilted her head, her eyes sparkling with mischief

Rafe shook his head, a chuckle escaping his lips. “No—no. That would be stupid of me to do that to myself,” he replied casually, his eyes locked on her. “Really? So, am I your type?” she questioned, a coy smile playing on her lips. “Hundred percent, babe. Hundred percent,” Rafe said with a laugh, his hands resting on her knees as he grinned up at her.

The tension between them was palpable as they stared at each other, the moment thick with anticipation. Nakia leaned forward, closing the gap between them, and kissed him. “I can’t get out,” Rafe whispered against her lips, his tone teasing but laced with something deeper.

“Why?” Nakia breathed, her brows knitting together in faux confusion. Rafe chuckled, glancing downward, murmuring something too low for the clip to catch. Nakia’s eyes widened before she burst into laughter, her head falling back. “No fucking way,” she giggled, clearly pleased with herself, as Rafe pulled her closer.

The screen went dark, the villa erupted in hushed murmurs and gasps, but the damage was already done. Your vision blurred as tears welled up, spilling over despite your desperate attempt to keep them in check. Your head spun, the voices around you muffled and distant. “Fuck this,” you muttered, your voice thick with emotion as you shot to your feet and stormed off, your sobs breaking the suffocating silence.

Sofia hurried after you, her heels clicking against the wooden planks as she tried to keep pace. Meanwhile, Rafe sat frozen, his face buried in his hands as he let out a loud, frustrated exhale. “Mate, what the hell were you thinking?” one of the boys hissed at Rafe, his tone laced with disappointment. Rafe didn’t answer immediately.

He sat motionless, his face buried in his hands, his breaths uneven. Finally, he stood abruptly, his chair tipping slightly behind him. “Fuck, I need to talk to her. Right now,” he muttered, his voice thick with frustration and guilt. As he made his way upstairs, the sound of your muffled sobs grew louder, each one hitting him like a blow to the chest.

He hesitated outside the glam room, his hand hovering over the door. Finally, he knocked, his voice tentative. “Y/n, can we talk?” There was a pause, and then the door creaked open to reveal Sofia. Her expression was a mix of anger and disdain as she stepped into the doorway, her voice icy. “She doesn’t need to hear your excuses right now.” She brushed past him, leaving the hallway in silence.

Rafe swallowed hard and stepped inside. You stood near the vanity, your back to him, shoulders trembling. When you finally turned, your tear-streaked face was a mix of heartbreak and fury, your mascara smeared like dark shadows under your reddened eyes. “What can you possibly say to me to make this better?” you demanded, your voice bitter and raw.

You glared at him, your anger barely concealing the hurt threatening to consume you. Rafe faltered, his mouth opening as if to speak, but no words came out. He raked a hand through his hair, his usual confidence replaced with visible unease. “I—” “You what?” you snapped, cutting him off. “You didn’t mean it? You were caught up in the moment? Save it, Rafe. I’ve heard enough lies for one night.”

“I wasn’t thinking,” he finally said, his voice quiet but filled with desperation. “It didn’t mean anything, Y/n. None of it did.” You let out a sharp, humorless laugh, shaking your head. “It didn’t mean anything? You kissed her, Rafe. You flirted with her. You made me look like a fucking idiot in front of everyone.” “I fucked up,” he admitted, his tone softening as he took a step closer.

“I know I did. But I never stopped thinking about you. You’re the one I—” “Don’t,” you interrupted, your voice cracking. “Don’t you dare try to spin this like you cared. If you cared, you wouldn’t have done this. If you cared, you wouldn’t have disrespected me while you had your fun.” The room fell silent except for the sound of your laboured breathing.

Rafe looked at you, his expression filled with regret, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. “I think you should leave,” you whispered, turning away from him. Your shoulders sagged, the weight of everything crushing you. Rafe hesitated, his hand twitching as if he wanted to reach out to you, but he didn’t.

Finally, he stepped back toward the door, his voice barely audible. “I’m sorry.” The door clicked shut behind him, leaving you alone with the shattered pieces of what once was.

[dazevi]

CHAPTER TWO: BY YOUR SIDE

heart to heart series | vi x fem!reader

synopsis: vi returns to her childhood home, overwhelmed by the past. vander encourages her to attend a wedding. and when you cross paths again, vi tries to do whatever she can to find a way back into your life.

content warnings: MDNI. angst, suggestive content, rockstar!vi, writer!reader, bookshop owner!reader, eventual exes to lovers, no smut yet, sexual tension, vi is looking respectfully, jaymel cameo, bestfriend!mel, mentions of alcohol and smoking, profanity, awkward reunion, mmm idk what im missing but lmk !

wc: 13,144

note: sorry for the wait! this chapter feels a little more like a build-up chapter but can’t wait to upload the later chapters ahhh !!! (fanart by bunimint_ on ig)

navigation | series masterlist | previous chapter

Vi stood in the doorway of her old bedroom, the strap of her guitar case digging into her shoulder. The house smelled the same—faintly of laundry detergent and the old wooden floors her mom used to obsessively polish when she was a kid.

It hadn’t changed, not a single thing about it.

The same pale red walls, the same band posters sloppily pinned up in the corners, curling at the edges with age. Her bed still sat against the wall beneath the window, the same worn quilt folded neatly at the edge like her mom still expected her to crawl into it every night. Even her desk was untouched, cluttered with textbooks and notebooks she hadn’t opened since she was eighteen, the pages frozen in time like she had only stepped out for a moment, not years.

Her breath caught in her throat as her eyes swept over the room, the memories that rushed back into her mind made her knees feel weak.

Late nights scribbling in her notebooks about songs she was too afraid to share with anyone, the afternoons spent sprawled across the bed on the phone with you, talking about nothing and everything all at once. She could almost hear your voice now, laughing softly as she played a chord wrong on her guitar, only for her to insist it was intentional because she claimed it was experimental.

Vi swallowed hard, her fingers tightening around the handle of her suitcase.

She hated how small the room felt now, how it seemed to mock her. It once belonged to the girl she used to be—the girl who thought she had everything figured out, the girl who couldn’t wait to leave this town behind.

Now it felt like it was waiting to swallow her whole.

She set her suitcase down by the bed and eased the guitar case off her shoulder, placing it gently against the wall. She looked over to the corner of the room, and stepped up to her the older one, a faded acoustic with stickers all over the body, just resting against her desk. Her fingers brushed against the neck of the guitar—it was the same one she played since high school, the same one she used to play for you.

A soft knock on the doorframe pulled Vi out of her thoughts, her head snapping up as she turned her head.

Vander stood there, leaning slightly against the wood, his massive arms crossed over his chest in that familiar way that always seemed to say everything’s fine, kid. He wore a faint smile, though his eyes were saying something else—relief, maybe, or concern. She wasn’t sure.

“Didn’t touch anything while you were gone,” he said, and chuckled lightly. “Figured I’d let you do that when you got back.”

Vi let out a breath, her lips twitching into the smallest of smiles, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. She ran a hand over the back of her neck, trying to brush away some of the tension that had settled there since stepping out of the airport.

“Yeah, uh… thanks,” she mumbled, but it was quieter than she meant it to be.

Vander stepped inside, his boots heavy against the floorboards, and leaned against the edge of her desk like he used to when she was a teenager. Back then, he’d perch there with his arms crossed, asking about her day, actually try to help with her homework or teasing her for the mess she insisted wasn’t actually a mess.

Now, he stood there quietly, taking her in like he was trying to figure out what to say next.

“Thought you’d want it that way. You always hated when people moved your stuff.”

“Yeah,” she said.

He smiled a little at the memory, his hands fidgeting with the edge of a notebook she hadn’t touched in years.

“Powder’s coming home later in two weeks for break. Been pretty busy with all that college stuff.” He says. “And as much as I love having you back home… everything alright with that fancy job of yours?

“Our, uh, manager thinks the band needs a break… from work… and touring nonstop, so…” Vi trailed off, her voice faint. “Ekko’s prety happy about it. He missed Benzo a lot.”

Vander didn’t respond immediately. He just nodded slowly, his eyes soft, as if he already knew that there was more going on her mind. She wasn’t talking about just the band. She was talking about everything. The constant noise that came into her life, the rush of being in the spotlight that made it hard to even breathe sometimes. The exhaustion that had piled up too, unnoticed, over the years.

Vi sighed, running a hand through her hair, fingers brushing the silver chain that hung around her neck, tugging it out from under her shirt.

“Well, Benzo is a huge fan, as you know,” Vander continued, a small chuckle escaping his lips. “Won’t stop talking about you guys. Keeps showing off posters Ekko sends in the mail.”

Vi’s lips curved upwards, a soft laugh slipping out. Benzo always supported the band even way before they became one, since she and Ekko were kids, playing with glasses of water, a small keyboard and buckets flipped over to drum on them.

She remembered the first time they’d played at his diner, the crowd just a few regulars, and Benzo grinning like the proudest uncle. He’d been the first to show up with his camera, asking for a picture of the band.

“You guys are going to make it big,” he’d said, without any hint of doubt in his voice.

“I should really go down there and see him… check up on Ekko, too,” Vi muttered, almost to herself. “His birthday’s coming up soon, isn’t it?”

“Sure is.”

Then, she looked out the window instinctively, like she always used to, and her eyes lingered on the house across the street. She could almost hear the sound of your soft voice, echoing in her mind like it had never left. She could imagine you inside, just going about your day, living your life without her.

She couldn’t stop staring at it, even though a part of her knew she shouldn’t. And yet, she couldn’t tear her eyes away.

She couldn’t stop herself from wondering, wondering what you were doing now, how you were feeling. Did you still think about her? The same way she thought about you? Were you with someone else now?

No, she… Vi didn’t want to think about that.

“Are you going to that wedding?” Vander’s voice broke through her thoughts.

She blinked, turning slightly to face him.

He continued, “Got a letter invite a couple weeks back, but I’m sure Jayce already let you know about it.”

A wedding. She had heard about it from Jayce, of course. Mel and Jayce were getting married. But she hadn’t really thought about it in the way she should have.

You’d probably be there.

And the thought of going, of seeing you again, made her stomach flip. She wasn’t sure she was ready to face you after everything. Three years. But it felt like it had been a lifetime. She couldn’t deny that a part of her wanted to be there, to see you, but another part of her feared what it would mean, of what would happen.

She shifted on her feet, glancing back out the window at the house one more time, as if it could give her the answer she was looking for.

“I don’t know yet,” Vi finally replied, her voice softer than she intended.

“Well it might be good to go see—”

“I said I don’t know.”

The tone of her own voice shocked herself.

“Sorry.”

Vander’s gaze softened as he looked at her. Her gaze lingered on the house across the street, her eyes tracing the outline of the familiar windows, the same one she used to sneak into to get to your bedroom in the middle of the night just because she just wanted to kiss you, and the same porch where she used to sit with you, long into the evening, talking about everything and nothing all at once.

Fuck. She couldn’t help herself.

“Is… is she still living over there?” she asked quietly, almost like she was afraid to hear the answer.

Vander glanced over, a small frown pulling at his lips as he followed her gaze toward the house. He paused for a moment, thinking, before responding with a soft shrug.

“No, she… moved out a couple of years ago,” he said. “Her mother mentioned an apartment somewhere downtown.”

For a moment, Vi stood there, her mind racing. She tried to picture you in this new place—your own apartment, a life carved out without her in it.

She didn’t speak right away. Her mind was too full, too clouded by everything she had tried to push aside. She’d been running for so long, keeping herself distracted with music, with the band, with anything that kept her from what she had left behind.

“Well, I’ve gotta get to work,” Vander says, walking past her and stopping in the doorway for a moment. “By the way, even if you don’t want my input on it, I really think you should go to that wedding. Better than being cooped up in here the whole time… Besides, I’m sure they’d love to see you.”

He stops by the doorframe, turning around then tossing something small and metallic over to her, which she catches with ease.

Car keys.

“Also, got that truck of yours fixed up when I heard you were coming back. Would be nice for it to get back on the road.”

Then he left.

Vi stood in there silently, watching as Vander walked out. She wasn’t sure what to make of it at first—he was always the type to be blunt, to offer advice that, whether she wanted it or not, often felt like the truth.

She stared down at the car keys in her hand, her thumb tracing the familiar grooves of the key to her old pickup truck—the one she’d spent an entire summer fixing up in Vander’s garage when she was sixteen. It had been her pride and joy, her freedom on four wheels.

She could still feel the way the leather seat would stick to her thighs on hot summer days, how she’d leave the windows rolled down because the AC had never quite worked right. She remembered the smell of grease that never really left the upholstery, no matter how much air freshener she hung from the rearview mirror.

But mostly, she remembered you.

Nights spent parked in that same old truck at night, your laughter mingling with the chirping crickets in the warm air. She could still feel the ghost of your hands on her face, your lips against hers in the soft glow of the dashboard lights. She remembered the way you’d pull her closer, your fingers curling into the collar of her shirt, as if you couldn’t stand even the smallest gap between you.

She let out a soft chuckle, shaking her head as she remembered another one—the two of you sneaking into the drive-in theater just outside of town. The projector’s flickering light had barely held her attention, not when you were sitting there next to her, your head resting on her shoulder, your hand absentmindedly playing with the hem of her shirt. She’d pretended to watch the movie, but all she could focus on was the sound of your breathing and the way you smelled.

You spent lots of your time in there with her. After school, after curfews, after everything.

She’d taught you how to shift gears in it, though you’d been hopelessly terrible at it, and she hadn’t minded one bit. You’d laugh at yourself, and Vi would laugh with you, though secretly she thought it was adorable. And when the nights were too quiet and the world felt too small, she’d drive you out to the edge of town, to that spot by the lake where you’d talk for hours, play you different songs on her guitar.

She turned back to the room, her eyes tracing her surroundings. It felt almost like a relic. She grew up here, sure, but who was she now? A part of her felt like she had lost herself along the way—lost in the noise, the music, the constant moving, the faces of strangers she met on different nights. She thought about everything that had happened between her and you. She had never really taken the time to face it all, to truly think about what went wrong.

But Vander was right.

She couldn’t stay locked away forever. She had to move forward. The band had taken a break, and the world had slowed down for a moment.

With a soft sigh, she looked out the window again, her eyes finding your house across the street.

Catch up with old friends. Was that what she needed? To face the past? To see the people she had left behind?

She crossed the room, her fingers brushing against the familiar objects scattered around. Her childhood trophies. Old photos with friends. It all seemed so distant now, like someone else’s life.

She took a deep breath, the decision heavy in her chest. Maybe Vander was right. Maybe it was time to show up, even if she was afraid of the thought of it.

“I guess I’ll go,” she murmured to the empty room.

The air in the dressing room was thick with the hum of distant music and muffled laughter seeping through the walls.

It was a busy day, but here, everything seemed still.

The place smelled faintly of lavender and vanilla, the scent lingering from the carefully arranged flowers that adorned every corner of the room. Soft light from the chandeliers cast a warm glow over Mel, who stood nervously in front of the mirror, adjusting the layers of her white gown. The fabric shimmered slightly under the lights with speckles of gold both on her dress and in her hair. She looked so beautiful.

You stood beside her, your own dress, a soft shade of blush pink. You absentmindedly tugged at the fabric by your hips, trying to steady your breath, as your eyes flickered between Mel and her reflection. She was fidgeting with the edge of her veil, looking every bit like the bride she was supposed to be.

“Mel,” you said softly. You stepped closer to her, placing a hand on her arm in reassurance. “You look stunning. Just breathe.”

Her eyes met yours in the mirror, and you saw the quiet panic that flickered behind them.

“Do you think I look okay?” she asked, her voice betraying her nerves. “I mean, I know I should feel excited, but I feel like everything’s about to fall apart. What if I mess up? What if I trip down the aisle or say something wrong or—”

“First off, I have never seen you trip once in my entire life,” you interrupted gently, your thumb brushing over her arm. “Everything’s going to be fine. You’ve been dreaming about this day for years, Mel. You deserve every single moment of it.”

You gave her a small smile.

“You’re just gonna walk down that aisle and Jayce is going to look at you and see you and no one else. Like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. And you are, so stop worrying, you’re about to be his wife.”

Mel exhaled slowly, dropping her shoulders a little as she allowed herself to relax, even if just a fraction. She stared at herself in the mirror for a long moment, her fingers lightly touching the delicate lace of her dress. She nodded slowly, her eyes softening as the last of her worry seemed to ease away. She straightened up, her back a little less hunched, her chin lifted just enough to make her look like the woman you’d known all these years.

“Thank you,” she said sigh. “My god, I’m getting married.”

You gave her a teasing smile. “Yeah, you are.”

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Alright. I’m ready.”

Mel straightened her veil one last time and stood taller, stronger than she had a few minutes ago. You both shared one last look in the mirror before heading toward the door.

And before you knew it, you were standing in front of the aisle.

You barely noticed when Viktor, standing beside you, Jayce’s best man and friend, began to guide you down, your arm linked with his. The music played by the pianist surrounded you, and everyone’s whispered voices faded into the background. Your focus narrowed to just the steps ahead of you as you went on. Viktor smiled warmly at you and the flowers in your hands felt heavier now, their petals brushing your fingers with each step. The soft rustle of your dress seemed to blend with the rest of sounds of the room, the only thing you could hear, aside from your own breathing.

As you neared the end of the aisle, Viktor slowed his pace, and you both came to a halt. His hand gently lifted from your arm and you separated, parting to make space for the groom and the bride, and stood still for a moment, facing the crowd.

And it was then, as your eyes scanned the room, that you saw it—a streak of pink. The color almost seemed to glow.

Vi.

Her hair, now a little longer than you remembered, was glowing under the soft light.

Your heart skipped a beat, then stilled, as you stared and swallowed the lump in your throat.

She’s sitting there, in the middle of the crowd, dressed in an all-black suit, the kind that should look formal, her collar loose and unbuttoned under her jacket. She looks good—too good, in that frustrating way you remember all too well.

And she’s staring right at you.

She’s been staring the whole time, as if she’s been waiting for this, waiting for you. Her jaw is set, her lips pressed into a line that isn’t quite a smile but isn’t far from one either. It’s the look she used to give you when she was trying to read you, trying to figure out if she should say something or stay quiet.

Your fingers tighten slightly around the bouquet in your hands. And then, from the corner of your eye, you see movement. Mel steps into view, bright in her wedding dress, reminding you of where you are, of the role you’re here to play.

And it’s enough to force you to tear your gaze away from Vi.

Your eyes snap back to Mel, and you focus on her. You force yourself to breathe, to focus, but deep down, you know this will stay lodged in your mind.

Vi stared the entire time.

She’d been staring from the moment you stepped into view. She’d been waiting all day for this—waiting for you to step out, to catch even a glimpse of the person who’d lived in the back of her mind for years, no matter how hard she’d tried to bury the thought of you.

And when she finally saw you… God, fuck.

You were beautiful.

So beautiful it made her throat tighten and her chest ache. It wasn’t just the dress, though it was stunning, soft and flowing, hugging you in all the right places.

You looked better than she remembered, which felt impossible because, to Vi, you’d always been the prettiest person she’d ever laid eyes on.

Her heart thudded painfully as she took in the way you walked, like though you weren’t sure you belonged in the spotlight. You always did that—shrank yourself down, even when you had every right to take up space.

And Vi hated it. She hated how much she missed it too.

She couldn’t look away, couldn’t even blink. Her gaze drank in every detail—the line of your collarbone where the dress dipped, the curve of your neck, the curve of your lips. She thought about how she used to trace the edges of your jaw with her fingertips, how you used to tilt your head into her hand when you were silently asking her to kiss you.

Her jaw clenched, her lips pressing into a tight line as if that could stop all her emotions from crashing over.

Because fuck, you were right there. Flesh and blood, in the same room.

And yet, you felt so far away, like the distance between her seat and from where you stood might as well have been a thousand miles.

Her mind raced as she sat there, still as stone, her fingers digging into her knees to keep herself calm. What would she even say if she could speak to you? What could she say that wouldn’t sound pathetic, desperate?

Because she was desperate.

She realized that now, sitting here and watching you.

In fact, she watched you for the rest of the night. All the way up to the after party.

Vi stayed on the second floor balcony for most of the evening, nursing a drink she didn’t particularly care for, her other hand gripping the railing as she leaned against it.

The view was perfect from up here—not of just the party, but of you.

She could see everything, every little detail. She hadn’t even realized how much she’d missed the sound of your laugh until it reached her ears over the music and chatter.

She watched as you spun around the dance floor with Jayce, his booming laugh echoing as he twirled you, your dress flaring out. Mel joined in too, her bouquet forgotten somewhere on a table as the three of you swayed and stumbled with too much energy to care if you looked silly.

Vi’s lips curved into the smallest, bittersweet smile at the sight of you and her friends all so carefree, so full of life.

From up here, she could even watch how some guys went up to you, making her grip on the railing even tighter. She could see the way their eyes lit up when they looked at you, how they straightened their postures, how they leaned in just a little too close.

Vi hated how much it bothered her.

But you… you were polite, as you always were, letting them have their moment before smiling and shaking your head, refusing a dance or to talk with them. You didn’t let them pull you away, didn’t let them have the piece of you they clearly wanted.

She should’ve felt relieved, but she didn’t. It wasn’t enough.

Because deep down, she knew she had no right to feel this way anymore.

You weren’t hers. You hadn’t been for years.

Vi leaned further into the railing, her fingers loosening around her glass as she tilted her head back, exhaling softly. God, you looked so happy. And you deserved to be happy. But Vi couldn’t shake the selfish, ugly thought that she wanted to be the one who put that smile on your face again.

Earlier, she’d congratulated Jayce and Mel, shaking hands with Jayce and giving Mel one of those half hugs she was bad at. Jayce had been his usual cheerful self, patting Vi on the back and saying how good it was to see her. He’d even cracked a joke about how the great Violet of The Lanes had graced them with her presence. It was lighthearted, teasing, but Vi couldn’t stop the tiny pang of discomfort it caused.

She didn’t want to be that big rockstar here. Not tonight. She wanted to be Vi, the same person they went to high school with, the person you used to know.

Vi couldn’t stop staring at you, no matter how much she told herself not to.

You were laughing at something Mel said, your smile lighting up your whole face. Fuck, you were so pretty.

She forced herself to look away. Her throat felt tight, and she needed air—real air, not the stifling kind laced with too many conversations and clinking glasses and the faint scent of champagne.

With a sigh, Vi turned on her heel and slipped through the doors behind her, the sound of the party fading as she stepped out onto the outdoor balcony. Her hand instinctively reached into her jacket pocket, pulling out a slightly crumpled pack of cigarettes and her old, scratched-up zippo lighter.

She lit the cigarette, taking a long drag as she leaned against the railing and closed her eyes. The smoke curled around and she tilted her head back, staring up at the sky.

The stars were faint against the glow of the city lights, but they were there, distant and untouchable.

Kind of like you.

She saw you in everything she looked at.

Vi thought coming out here would help, but even with the cool air and the distance from the party, all she could think about was you. How you looked tonight. How you laughed. How you smiled.

She took another drag, her fingers trembling slightly as she held the cigarette to her lips. Maybe it was the nicotine.

She was barely halfway through her cigarette, the end of it glowing faintly as she took another drag. She’d been out here long enough for the faint chill to settle in her bones, but it was better than being inside. She stared down at the city below, considering the easiest way to slip out unnoticed.

Maybe she should just leave.

She didn’t have anything left to say to anyone here—not when every word felt like it was scraping its way up her throat.

Her hand tightened around the cigarette as she thought about it, but then—

“You started smoking?”

The sound of your voice behind her froze her in place.

For a moment, she didn’t turn around. She couldn’t. She stared straight ahead at the town, the distant lights blurring slightly in her vision. She almost thought she’d imagined it, but then the faint shuffle of your steps as you came closer made it all too real.

Finally, she turned, slowly and hesitantly. When her eyes met yours, she froze again. You were standing there, looking at her with an expression she couldn’t read all too well, your hands clasped loosely in front of you. You weren’t really dressed for the slight cold of the night, and she noticed the faint goosebumps along your arms, the way you shifted on your feet to keep warm.

“I, uh…” she stammered.

Vi glanced down at the cigarette in her hand like she’d forgotten it was there. She suddenly felt self-conscious, like she was holding something she shouldn’t be.

“Yeah,” she muttered quietly, rubbing the back of her neck with her free hand. “Picked it up a while ago.”

You tilted your head slightly, your gaze flicking from her face to the cigarette and back again.

“I didn’t think you would,” you said softly, and there was something in your tone—disappointment? Sadness? Curiosity?—whatever it was… she didn’t like it.

Vi shrugged, trying to play it off, but her voice came out quiet. “Helps with the stress, I guess.”

When you took a step closer, Vi’s shoulders tensed slightly. But when you stopped just shy of standing shoulder to shoulder with her, leaving a short distance between the two of you, she immediately dropped the cigarette she’d been holding, even though she was no where near finished. The bottom of her shoe came down on it a second later, snuffing out the ember.

It was almost instinctive, the way she straightened slightly, as though your presence alone made her feel the need to be… better, cleaner, less like the person she’d become and more like the one she used to be when you were hers.

She shoved her hands back into her pockets, not knowing what to do with them, her jaw tightening as she glanced sideways to look at you, a flicker of a guilty look crossing her face.

“You don’t have to do that, you know,” you say.

Vi blinked, looking at you more fully now. “Do what?”

“Pretend,” you said, your eyes meeting hers. “I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad. It’s just… surprising, that’s all.”

“I don’t… really wanna give you another reason to think I’m someone you don’t recognize,” she admitted quietly, her forearms leaning against the railing as she waited for you to respond.

“I don’t think you’re a stranger, Vi,” you said finally, and she stiffened slightly. “It’s just—it’s been a while since we saw each other, so...”

Vi turned to face you, and for a second, she just stared, her breath catching in her throat like she forgot how to speak.

God, you looked even more beautiful up close. She could see how you’ve grown, how the years had softened and shaped you in ways she hadn’t been there to witness. The dim light traced the curve of your face, catching the slope of your nose and the fullness of your lips.

And her eyes stayed there—on your lips—longer than they should have, and all she could think about was how they used to feel against hers. How you used to kiss her so softly.

She wondered if you could feel it, this pull between you both, with everything unsaid and everything she wished she could take back. God, how she wanted to reach out, to close the distance and take your face in her hands. To kiss you like she used to, like no time had passed, like she hadn’t spent every day missing you.

“How long have you been back in town?” you asked softly, and your voice broke through her thoughts.

Vi blinked and forced herself to focus on your eyes instead of your lips. Your voice was gentle, tentative, like you were testing the waters, not really sure where this conversation might go.

“Not long,” she said finally. “A couple of days.”

You nodded, and she could see the way your lips pressed together, as if you were holding back some words.

“How… have you been?” Vi asked, her voice almost trembling with nerves.

It was quiet for a bit, and she felt like she could hear her heartbeat pounding in her ears.

Fuck, it was such a stupid thing to ask, she thought. It felt too small, too casual. But she didn’t know what else to say.

You turned your gaze to her. Her stomach twisted when she saw the way your lips parted, hesitating like you were choosing your words carefully. She hated that she didn’t know what was going through your mind. Once upon a time, she could read you like her favorite song, but now, it was like trying to decipher lyrics in a language she no longer spoke.

“I’ve been okay,” you said finally. “Busy, I guess. Definitely not as busy as you, but... um, I’ve been working with mom at her flower shop.”

Vi nodded slowly, her throat dry. Okay. It wasn’t the worst thing you could’ve said, but it wasn’t what she wanted to hear, either.

Honestly… she wanted you to tell her more. So much more. That… you missed her, maybe. That you thought about her. That maybe there was still some small part of your heart that belonged to her.

But she couldn’t push for that.

“I… I’ve actually just paid for a lease on this spot for a bookshop downtown, so…” you said next, your voice dipping into something shy.

You shifted your gaze, looking down at your hands for a moment before glancing back at Vi.

“A bookshop?” she repeated, the corners of her mouth lifting ever so slightly. “That’s… that’s amazing. Seriously.”

You felt a blush creeping up your neck at the sound of her voice. It wasn’t just the words—it was the way she said them, like she believed in you without hesitation, the same way she always used to. You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, trying to steady yourself under her gaze.

“It’s not open yet, but it’s coming together,” you continued, your words rushed. “I have to get supplies and… you know, order books to sell. I’m still getting it all set up next week…”

Vi nodded, her lips parting like she wanted to say something, but the words didn’t come. Instead, she just stared at you, the pride in her eyes unmistakable.

“Yeah,” she replied. “I… I’m really proud of you.”

“Thanks,” you murmured, glancing down at your hands again. You felt the urge to keep talking, to fill the space with something else. “After my book did well, I just thought… I’ve always wanted a book shop, anyway.”

“Yeah, I know…” Vi said quietly, almost like she was thinking aloud.

Her eyebrows lifted at the mention of your book.

“I-I mean—Your book,” she echoed, a faint grin tugging at her lips. “I saw it. Well, I didn’t just see it—I bought it. And read it. Twice, actually.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “You read my book?”

“Of course, I did,” she said, like it wasn’t even a question.

Vi smiled at that, but there was something bittersweet in the curve of her lips. She wanted to tell you that she’d read it more than twice. That she kept it with her when she’d travel on tours, tucked away in her suitcase like a piece of you she couldn’t let go of.

But she bit her tongue, knowing that wasn’t something you needed to hear—not now, not after all this time.

“Did you like it?”

Vi looked at you, a slow and gentle smile creeping up on her face as she said, “Yeah.”

What she didn’t tell you was that she never actually had the heart to finish it.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to know how it ended. She did. She wanted to devour every word you’d written, the same way she always used to lose herself in you. She could hear you in every sentence, see you in the way you painted your characters and wove their lives together.

And she liked to pretend that as long as she hadn’t reached the end, there was still something left between you. That there was still more to the story.

So when she’d get close to the end, her hands would freeze.

It felt too final. Too much like closure.

And closure was the last thing she wanted.

Vi cleared her throat and shifted on her feet awkwardly, tearing her gaze away from you.

“Feels weird thinking Jayce and Mel are married now,” she said roughly, just something to say.

Her lips quirked into a weak smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes, which darted back to you despite her best efforts to keep them fixed on the town ahead of her.

You chuckled softly, and the sound of it sent a ripple through her chest, and she swore she could feel her heart break all over again.

“Yeah,” you said, leaning against the railing. “It feels like just yesterday they were arguing about who was better at chemistry, and now here they are.”

“Bet Jayce’s still a pain in the ass, though,” she muttered.

But her smile faded as she looked down at the ground, her scuffed boots suddenly the most fascinating thing in the world. In reality, she just wanted to keep talking to you, to keep hearing your voice for as long as she can, not knowing when she’s ever going to get this chance again.

“Mel definitely agrees with that.”

Then, there was silence.

You moved slightly, your fingers trailing the edge of the railing as you watched her. She hadn’t changed, not really. But something about her was different. You couldn’t name it. It was like she was trying to keep herself contained, fighting to hide the parts of her she didn’t want you to see.

“How about you?”

Vi’s gaze flicked up to meet yours like you startled her from a daydream. She blinked, her fingers loosening around the railing, but she didn’t quite look at you. Not directly.

“Huh?” she breathed.

“How have you been?” you repeated.

She opened her mouth, but no sound came out at first. Then, a small, shaky laugh slipped from her lips.

“I—” She cut herself off, her fingers running through her hair, trying to appear calm.

I miss you, she wanted to say.

Vi met your gaze for a split second, but then her eyes flickered downward again, a soft breath escaping her lips.

“I’ve been… alright,” she said. She glanced at you briefly, the faintest flicker nervousness—maybe even guilt—crossing her face before her gaze fell to the ground. “The band’s on a break right now, so… I’ll be home for a while.”

You nodded slowly, her words repeating in your head.

Home. It sounded strange coming from her. Vi was always moving. You remember nights when you’d wish she was home, remembering how you’d ask her in every call and text wondering when she’ll be back home, even if it’s just for a short while.

She glanced back up at you, her eyes searching yours like she was trying to figure out how you felt about her answer. The faint light from inside the party caught the edges of her hair, making her pink strands glow softly in the dim light. Again, she looked the same, and yet not at all. She looked older, not just in age, but in the way her shoulders sagged slightly, like the weight of her own world had finally caught up to her.

“Home, huh?” you said softly, the word tasting bittersweet on your tongue.

“Yeah.”

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The quiet stretched between you, broken only by the muffled sounds of music and laughter spilling out from the party behind you.

Vi shifted on her feet all over again, her hands brushing the seam of her pants as she glanced down for a beat, then back up at you. She looked almost timid, carefully thinking and choosing her words before speaking.

“I’m, uh… staying at my dad’s house,” she mentioned out of nowhere.

Her eyes darted to yours briefly before she looked away again, scratching the back of her neck once more—it was a sign that she was nervous, you knew it too well.

She hesitated for a moment again, as though debating whether or not to say the next part, and then just blurted out, “Um… if you need help with that bookshop thing... I… I could help. You know, with lifting boxes, books or whatever. Anything. Whenever you need.”

The words tumbled out in a rush, and her cheeks flushed slightly as she stood there, waiting for you were going to say. It was such a clumsy offer, but it was also… sweet. You could tell from the way she said it, from the way her hands fidgeted at her sides, from the way her eyes flickered to yours and then back to the ground, that she wasn’t just trying to be polite.

You didn’t say anything at first, and in the silence, Vi’s nervousness seemed to grow. She bit the inside of her cheek, her gaze darting to yours again as if to gauge your reaction.

“I mean, no pressure,” she added quickly, her voice stumbling over the words. “I just thought… i-if you needed help or anything… I’m around.”

She forced another small, lopsided smile. And suddenly, it hit you how much she had changed.

But you only offered a small, polite smile back.

“I can’t ask you to do that,” you say softly, shaking your head. “You’re on a break—you should be… I don’t know. Resting? I think—”

But before you can finish, Vi cuts you off, “I want to.”

The words spill out of her with a force that surprises even her, and for a moment, she freezes, like she’s unsure if she sounded to desperate. Her jaw tightens, and she swallows hard before continuing, softer this time.

“I mean it, I really do. I want to help. I… I’d like to… Besides, I don’t really have any future plans anyways, so... It’ll keep me busy.”

Her voice trails off at the end, and she looks at you with those same earnest eyes.

For a moment, you’re not sure what to say.

You search her face, taking in the faint flush on her cheeks, the slight furrow of her brows, the way she looks like she’s bracing herself for rejection.

You exhale slowly, your heart caught somewhere between wanting to let her in and knowing the risks that come with it.

“Vi…” you start softly, but she shakes her head before you can go on, her lips curving into a faint, almost self-conscious smile.

You hesitate, the words catching on the edge of your tongue. Vi is standing there, her hands shoved deep into her pockets. Her eyes are locked on you, searching for some sort of an answer. She’s trying so hard to play it cool, but you’ve known her for too long to miss the way her shoulders tense, like she’s bracing herself for you to say no.

In Vi’s head, the words are quiet and repetitive saying, please say yes, please say yes, please…

You let out a slow breath, your lips curving into a small, tentative smile.

“Okay…” you say softly.

Fuck.

Her eyes flicker, catching the faintest glimmer of surprise, but she doesn’t move or speak, just waits, like she’s afraid to push too hard.

You glance away for a moment, smoothing your hands over the fabric of your dress, and then add, “If anything comes up… I’ll ask you first.”

Her shoulders relax as her lips curl into a grin—not a wide, toothy grin like the ones you remember from years ago, but a quiet, shy smile. It’s like she’s trying to play it cool, but the spark of happiness in her eyes betrays her.

“Yeah?” she says, like she’s making sure she didn’t mishear you.

You nod and Vi exhales a soft chuckle, looking down at her boots for a second before meeting your gaze again.

“Okay,” she murmurs. “Okay.”

“I, um… I should head back to the party,” you say softly, a bit hesitant, like you’re not sure whether you’re ready to leave or if you’re saying it just to give yourself permission to.

You give her a gentle smile.

“It was nice seeing you, Violet.”

Her name falls from your lips so easily, like it hasn’t been years since she’s heard you say it. And God, she swears she melts—completely, utterly melts—like the sound of her name coming from you is the softest, warmest thing in the world. Nobody really calls her that anymore. To everyone else, she’s just Vi. To you… she doesn’t even know if she’s still that girl, still your Violet, but the way you say it makes her feel like she could be.

She tries to play it cool, tries to keep herself from staring too hard at you or letting you see how badly she wants you to stay just a little longer, but it’s impossible. Everything about you—your voice, your smile, the way you’re standing there looking so fucking beautiful—it’s all driving her crazy.

Vi just nods, her voice coming out quieter than she intended.

“Yeah… yeah, you too.”

You give her one last smile before turning to leave, and Vi’s chest tightens as she watches you go, your dress swaying lightly as you walk back toward the noise.

She wants to call after you, to stop you, to ask you for just a few more minutes. But she doesn’t. Instead, she stays where she is, hands shoved into her jacket pockets, replaying the entire conversation, the way you said her name over and over.

The days passed slowly, each one dragging way more than the last, and Vi felt every excruciating second of it. She’d never been good at waiting—patience was never her strong suit—but this was quite possibly worse than anything she’d ever experienced. You were on her mind constantly, and every time she closed her eyes, she saw you standing on that balcony, your voice soft, smiling at her in that pretty dress.

And now… now she was stuck in silence, waiting for a sign, for anything, for you.

It was maddening.

She’d been sitting on your number for days, her thumb hovering over her phone screen more times than she could count.

She’d asked Jayce for it the day after the wedding, trying to keep her voice casual and her reasoning vague—something about wanting to just talk or check in, honestly, she couldn’t even remember what she’d said now. Jayce hadn’t questioned it, just handed it over with a knowing grin and a pat on the shoulder.

“Good luck,” he’d said, and Vi had laughed it off at the time, pretending it didn’t matter as much as it did.

But now, sitting in her dad’s kitchen with her phone on the table in front of her, the wait was crushing her.

She’d tried to convince herself to wait for you to make the first move, but the days were stretching on, and every time her phone buzzed, her heart jumped, only to sink when it wasn’t you.

It was ridiculous, really, how much power you still had over her after all this time.

She felt like a teenager again, pacing her room, rehearsing what to say, overthinking every way you might respond.

Vi rubbed the back of her neck, glancing at the screen where your name stared back at her, the text box waiting for her to write something, anything. A call felt too forward, but a text… God, what was she even supposed to say? Hey, it was nice seeing you at the wedding? No, that sounded too formal. I can’t stop thinking about you and wish I had said more that night? Absolutely not.

She groaned and leaned back in her chair, glaring at the phone like it was mocking her. She’d faced stadiums full of screaming fans, interviews where every word mattered, even the pressure of writing entire albums with a deadline, and yet here she was, completely undone by the thought of texting you.

It seemed awfully familiar, though.

The last time she had been staring at her phone like this, wanting to text you, to call you, was when you broke up with her in New York.

Vi remembers every message, every call, every desperate attempt to reach you after your flight home. She regretted everything, and she carried it with her everyday. Even now, years later, she can still feel it—the silence on the other end of the line, the way your name sat at the top of her call log, unanswered, untouched, until eventually, it disappeared altogether.

She had tried to chase you that morning—had jolted awake to the blaring red numbers on the alarm clock, the kind of panic that claws its way up your throat, suffocating.

But she never made it on time.

The hangover from the night before had her glued to the bed for too long, her knuckles slightly bruised from punching that guy at the party, slowed her limbs and dulled her mind when she needed to be moving, running—to you. She remembered stumbling through her hotel room, throwing on last night’s pants, grabbing her keys with shaking hands, but by the time she had made it downstairs and shoved open the lobby doors, the realization had already sunk its teeth into her—she wasn’t going to make it.

Still, she had sent the text.

She had sat in the driver’s seat of her car, fingers gripping her phone so tightly her knuckles had gone white. She had stared at the screen, waiting, willing your name to light up in reply. But nothing came.

She tried calling. She had dialed your number over and over, barely able to breathe as the rings echoed in her ear, taunting her.

Voicemail.

Again.

And again. And again.

She had meant it. She wanted to tell you that she knew she had screwed up, that she had let the late nights and missed dates and unreturned calls and the fact that she barely came home piled up into something unbearable. That she had let you slip through her fingers when she should have been holding on for dear life.

But you never answered.

And then again later that night, after she had downed more drinks than she should have, after she had sat on the floor of her bathroom with her head in her hands, trying to piece together how everything had gone so wrong.

She promised. And she had kept that promise, had woken up with a headache, going through an interview she barely remembered, and then, the second she was free, she had called you.

And still, nothing.

The messages didn’t stop after that.

For weeks, she kept reaching out. The texts came in—some long, rambling apologies sent in the middle of the night, others as simple as “I miss you” or “Are you okay?” The calls never slowed, her thumb swiping over your name out of habit, out of desperation, out of some foolish, impossible hope that maybe this time you’d pick up.

But you never did.

And Vi was pretty sure it killed her.

It killed her to think that maybe, eventually, you would stop even reading them, stop seeing her name on your screen and feeling anything at all.

And yet, she still kept calling. Because she didn’t know how to stop. Because the thought of never hearing your voice again was somehow worse than hearing nothing at all, even if it was just your voicemail.

“I love you,” was her last message.

Vi let out a frustrated breath, running her hand through her hair as she stared at your name one more time. She didn’t want to seem desperate, but she also didn’t want to lose this chance, the tiny sliver of hope that had lodged itself in her chest since she’d seen you again.

She didn’t hear the door at first, her mind too distracted as she stared at her phone.

But then, the doorbell echoed through the house, dragging her out of her thoughts. Vi didn’t move at first, too paralyzed.

The silence stretched, and just as she began to wonder if she should check the door, Vander’s voice rang out from the other side of the house.

“Vi, it’s for you!”

Her breath caught in her throat.

Vi stood up slowly, her fingers still clutching her phone, her mind racing.

And then she heard it again. Her Vander’s voice, a little louder than usual, echoing from the front door.

“Vi, it’s for you!” Vander called out again.

Vi hesitated, frozen for a moment in the threshold of the room, unsure of what to do. She could hear muffled voices, something that sounded like small talk, but she wasn’t ready. She wasn’t ready for anyone—least of all you—to walk through that door, to see her and disrupt the little bubble she’d built around herself.

And then, just as she took a hesitant step toward the hallway, she heard it.

A woman’s voice, sweet and unmistakable, calling out in the distance. It was your mom.

“Vi, sweetie, it’s been a while,” she said warmly.

Why was your mom here? Was she here for you? Did you send her?

“Uh, hi,” Vi stammered, her voice cracking slightly as she stepped closer to the doorway.

Her throat felt dry, and she wasn’t sure where to put her hands, so they hung awkwardly by her sides. She tried to muster a smile, but it faltered slightly under her nerves.

Your mom stood there, her familiar warm smile softening the edges of Vi’s unease.

“It’s so nice to see you,” she said kindly, her voice light and easy, as if years hadn’t passed since the last time they’d spoken. “You’ve grown so much.”

Vi forced a nod, her lips twitching into a polite grin.

“T-Thank you,” she mumbled.

“Anyway,” she said, waving a hand as if she was brushing away any lingering awkwardness, “I actually came by to ask for a bit of help.”

“Oh?” she managed.

“Well,” your mom began, “____ has some books at the house that I’m supposed to drop off at her apartment, but I have to get to the flower shop soon. She told me to ask you to do it if you were available.”

She offered a sheepish smile, “Was thinking you could spare my back from lifting some of those boxes, you see.”

Vi wasn’t sure how long she stood there, frozen in place, as they sank in. Your mom’s voice was calm and casual, but to Vi, it felt like the ground had shifted beneath her.

You told her to ask me? The thought looped in her head.

“Oh, uh…” Vi started, the words faltering as she processed the request. She rubbed the back of her neck, and glanced briefly at Vander, who stood just behind her in the kitchen, pretending not to listen but very clearly eavesdropping. She caught his small, encouraging nod, and it pushed her to speak again. “Yes! Yeah, of course. I can do that.”

Your mom’s face brightened instantly.

“Oh, thank you, sweetie. That’s such a big help.” She reached into her bag and pulled out a small slip of paper, handing it to Vi. “Here’s the address to her apartment. The boxes are over in the backyard. Just leave them wherever she needs them.”

Vi took the paper with trembling fingers, her gaze flicking down to the scrawled handwriting. It wasn’t yours, but it didn’t matter. Just the thought of stepping into your place, of touching something that belonged to you, made her chest ache with excitement.

Your mom beamed. “I appreciate it.”

Vi nodded, offering another polite smile, though her mind was already racing ahead. She watched as your mom said her goodbyes and left, the door clicking softly behind her.

Once the house was quiet again, Vander leaned against the counter, arms crossed, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. “You gonna be okay there, kid?”

Vi didn’t answer. She just stood in the doorway, staring at the door.

“Uh-huh.”

Her heart was pounding in her chest, and without a second thought, she spun on her heel, running toward her room. Vander’s low chuckle echoed faintly behind her, but she didn’t stop to say anything. Her mind was racing too fast, her body moving on autopilot.

Vi nearly stumbled as she made it to her room, her hand shooting out to grab the edge of her desk for balance. Her eyes immediately locked onto her old car keys lying on the surface. Her fingers curled tightly around the worn leather keychain, and in one quick motion, she stuffed the keys into her pocket and spun around to leave.

“You’re leaving now?” Vander teased from the kitchen as she all but bolted past him. He leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, watching her in amusement.

“I’ll be back later!” Vi called back over her shoulder, already halfway out the door.

Before he could respond, she was gone, the screen door slamming shut behind her. He shook his head, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he chuckled softly to himself.

“Kids,” he muttered, shaking his head as he turned back to whatever he’d been doing.

Vi moved quickly, her boots crunching against the grass as she ran to the next house, grabbing the boxes of books from the backyard like your mother had said, putting them in the trunk before getting in to start the truck.

As the engine roared as she turned her key, she gripped the wheel tightly, her palms slightly clammy against the worn leather. She let out a slow, shaky breath, her mind still spinning. The thought of seeing you again, even in such a simple, practical way, made her stomach twist into knots.

She adjusted the rearview mirror, catching a brief glimpse of herself, her wide eyes betraying the nerves she felt. With a soft huff, she shook her head, trying to steady herself.

“It’s just some boxes,” she murmured under her breath, as if saying it out loud might make it easier.

With that thought in her mind, Vi threw the truck into reverse and backed out of the driveway. She didn’t bother to turn on the radio as she drove, her hands tightening on the wheel, her foot pressing just a little harder on the gas as everything out the windows blurred past.

When Vi pulled up to your apartment building, she stayed in the driver’s seat longer than she’d planned, her fingers drumming anxiously against the steering wheel. The grumble of the truck’s engine had faded, leaving only the sound of her shallow breathing and the occasional creak of the old leather seat beneath her. She stared up at the building, the sunlight glinting off the windows, and felt her stomach twist. This shouldn’t be such a big deal—just a delivery, just a favor—but it pressed down on her like it meant everything.

She glanced down at herself, frowning at her choice of clothes. A faded hoodie she’d thrown on in a rush and a pair of worn jeans she’d been meaning to replace for years. Her sneakers were scuffed, the laces frayed at the edges. She tugged at the hem of the hoodie self-consciously, her lips pressing into a thin line. Why hadn’t she dressed up a little more? Why hadn’t she at least run a comb through her hair before bolting out the door?

The truck’s rearview mirror caught her eye, and she tilted it down slightly to get a look at herself. Her hair was messy, not in the cool, effortless way she might’ve liked. Her hair grew longer, but she’s been meaning to get a hair cut from her hair stylist before the band took a break. She reached up to smooth it down, her fingers catching on a knot. With a frustrated sigh, she shook her head and let her hand drop.

Get a grip, Vi, she thought. It’s not a date. You’re dropping off some boxes, that’s it.

But even as she said the words, they felt hollow. She wanted to look good for you. She wanted you to see her and—what? Be impressed?

With a heavy sigh, Vi shoved the door open and climbed out of the truck. She grabbed the first box from the passenger seat, balancing it carefully against her hip as she slammed the door shut with her foot. Her keys jingled softly in her pocket as she made her way toward the building, her shoes scuffing against the pavement.

The elevator ride felt like it lasted an eternity. Vi shifted the box in her arms, her palms growing damp from the cardboard’s edges. She stared at the numbers lighting up above the door, each floor bringing her closer. Her heart was pounding again, and she cursed herself for it.

When the elevator doors slid open, she stepped out and hesitated, her eyes scanning the numbers on the doors in the halls until she found yours. Standing there, just a few feet away, she felt her resolve falter again. She reached up to knock, then paused, glancing down at herself one last time. The hoodie, the jeans, her hair—she sighed, knowing there wasn’t much she could do about it now.

Finally, Vi forced herself to step forward, swallowing the lump in her throat as she raised her knuckles to the door and knocked.

The door creaked open a moment later, and Vi’s breath caught in her throat. She hadn’t thought about what she’d say, but all those half-formed ideas completely disintegrated the second she saw you.

You were standing there in a loose tank top that dipped low enough to hint at your curves, your cleavage, paired with a pair of shorts that revealed more of your legs than Vi could handle seeing without losing her composure.

And she wasn’t ready for this at all.

Your eyes widened when you saw her, your body jolting slightly, not expecting her of all people to be on the other side of the door at this hour.

“Oh!” you exclaimed, taking a step back out of instinct. “Vi. Y-You’re early.”

Vi blinked, trying to force her brain to catch up with the situation, but her eyes kept drifting down your body, betraying her. Her gaze flitted from the flush in your cheeks to the slight curve of your collarbone and lower before she caught herself and looked away, focusing on the box in her hands.

“I, uh…” Vi cleared her throat, her voice suddenly hoarse. “Yeah, I—guess I didn’t realize how fast I’d get here.”

She wanted to curse herself for how awkward she sounded, but she couldn’t seem to focus on anything except how close you were, how the faint scent of your perfume drifted into her nose.

You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, clearly flustered, your smile shy but warm.

“I didn’t think you’d be here so soon,” you said, glancing down at yourself briefly like you were suddenly self-conscious. “I—uh, I didn’t really dress for company.”

Vi shook her head quickly, the words tumbling out before she could think them through.

“Oh! No, you’re—you look…” She stopped and bit down on the inside of her cheek, forcing herself to regain her footing. “You look fine. Really great, I mean. Not that I was looking—I-I… Just—uh, it’s fine. You’re fine.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Not smooth. At all. The heat in her cheeks was unmistakable now, and she wanted nothing more than to melt and disappear into the floor. You let out a soft laugh, and it was warm, teasing, in a way that made Vi’s heart flutter.

“Well, come in,” you said, stepping aside and gesturing for her to enter. “You’re already here, so…”

Vi nodded as she stepped in. She kept her head down, her jaw tight, her fingers gripping the box pretending to focus on it instead of you.

You stepped aside, letting her cross the threshold into your apartment, and she immediately felt her nerves spike. It was cozy with soft warm lighting and shelves packed full of books and little frames of photos you’ve taken that she wasn’t apart of. She found herself lingering by the door, holding the box tightly as her eyes wandered more. A dark blue blanket was draped over the back of the couch, your yellow mug from earlier sat on the coffee table, and she could faintly smell of, maybe, vanilla or something sweet in the air.

“I—I’m gonna go get dressed,” you said suddenly, moving awkwardly on your feet like her being in the room was throwing you off your balance too. You gestured vaguely to your tank top and shorts, cheeks slightly pink. “I know I only asked if you could drop those off, but I’d really like to get them to the shop as soon as possible, so...”

Vi only nodded, her mouth too dry to form a proper response, her hands gripping the box tighter than necessary.

“Yeah, no problem,” she muttered, barely hearing her own voice over her thoughts. “I-I can drive us there if you want.”

You gave her a quick smile and turned to head down the short hallway toward what she assumed was your bedroom.

And Vi tried, really, really tried to keep her focus elsewhere, but her resolve crumbled the second you walked away.

Her gaze shamelessly dropped down to your ass, trailing after you as your hips swayed naturally with each step, her brain short-circuiting at the sight. Oh, how she wished she was allowed to pull you close like she used to, pressed your ass against her front, her hands on your hips, her lips against the side of your neck, kissing and licking and marking—

Fuck. Stop. Stop.

She tore her eyes away, her face heating up in an instant. What the hell was she doing? She wasn’t seventeen anymore, and yet here she was, acting like some lovesick kid with no self-control.

But, really, how could she not? It had been years, and somehow you were sexier—no, even more beautiful now than you were back then. You always had this effect on her, and she learned today that it has never gone away.

She sighed and glanced up at the ceiling, trying to distract herself by taking in more of your apartment. Everything here was you. She could picture you curled up on that couch, a book in hand, completely at ease. She could picture you at the little kitchen counter, maybe making coffee in the mornings, the sunlight spilling in through the window. It was such a simple, lovely image that Vi could almost feel herself getting lost in it, wanting to be a part of it in some way.

Vi set the box down gently by the couch, glancing around your cozy apartment one more time before lowering herself onto the cushions. She sank into them, her fingers drumming absently on her knees as she tried not to think too much. But waiting like this, surrounded by all the little pieces of your life, made it impossible not to.

She let out a slow breath and ran a hand through her hair, trying to keep her thoughts in check. The sound of your door creaking open snapped her out of it, and she instinctively looked up, her breath catching the moment she saw you. She didn’t even realize she was staring until her chest tightened again, a small voice in the back of her head reminding her that she had no right to look at you like this anymore.

“Mel dropped some books off yesterday too,” you said, your voice pulling her out of her thoughts. “I’ll grab them, and then we can take all of it down to the shop.”

Vi nodded dumbly, her throat feeling dry as she struggled to find a coherent response.

You turned toward a small side table where a several of other books were stacked, and Vi took the moment to glance at you again, her chest aching as the reality of it all hit her. And all she could think about was how fucking beautiful you looked. As you bent slightly to pick up the stack, Vi clenched her fists against her thighs, forcing herself to look away.

She followed you on your way out, silently wishing she could stay in there a little longer to explore what else you’ve been up to, to see everything that was connected to you.

But she couldn’t anymore, not when you closed the door and locked it quickly behind her.

You stood beside her in the elevator, close enough that she could catch the faintest trace of your perfume. It was practically the same scent she remembered, the one that used to linger on her clothes after you’d hugged her goodbye. Vi glanced at you out of the corner of her eye, watching as you fidgeted with the strap of your bag, clutching the books Mel dropped off to donate to your chest carefully, and your lips pressed together in a thin line.

Neither of you spoke.

Vi was nervous.

She wanted to say something but she didn’t really know how. It was a strange, being quiet, and she hated how much she liked it—just being near you, even if it wasn’t the same as before.

The elevator dinged softly as it reached the ground floor, and the doors slid open to the parking lot. Vi stepped out first, holding the box carefully, and you followed close behind. Her boots scuffed against the concrete as she led the way toward her truck, parked in one of the far corners next to a big tree.

When the truck came into view, your steps slowing just slightly. Vi noticed immediately, glancing back at you with a questioning look, but you didn’t dare to say anything. You just stood there, staring at the familiar sight of her old, beat-up pickup, the one she used to drive you around in. She could see it in your eyes—your eyebrows rising, the way your lips parted just slightly, as if you were about to say something but thought better of it.

Vi remembered everything about that truck—how she’d spent weeks fixing it up herself in high school after Vander brought it home for her on her sixteenth birthday, how proud she’d been when it finally roared to life. She remembered the late night drives, the way you’d slide across the bench seat to lean against her as she steered with one hand. She remembered the drive-in movies, the cheap popcorn, and the way you’d press a kiss to her cheek when you thought she wasn’t paying attention. She remembered her arm resting behind your head as she leaned in to distract you from that movie just past the window, her lips pressing against yours before moving down to your jaw, your neck, until she had you on your back against the bench seat of the truck, her mouth exploring your body excitedly, enjoying the feeling of your hands holding on to her like you depending on it.

And she wondered if you remembered it the same way she did.

You smiled faintly, but you still didn’t say anything. Instead, you walked up to the truck slowly, your hand brushing along the edge of the faded red paint.

Vi hesitated, feeling her pulse quicken. “You okay?”

You nodded softly. Your gaze lingered on the truck, tracing over every detail, every dent and scratch that time hadn’t erased.

Vi cleared her throat, forcing a shaky laugh to break the silence. “She’s still holding up,” she said, her voice softer than she intended. “Vander fixed her up when he found out I was coming home.”

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “It’s still the same.”

Vi wanted to ask what you were thinking—if seeing the truck brought back all the same memories for you as it did for her���but she bit her tongue.

She didn’t want to push.

The drive to the shop felt a little longer than it actually was.

Vi gripped the steering wheel of her truck a little tighter, her palms slightly clammy against the worn leather. The ride was quiet, almost painfully so, but she didn’t want to break the silence—not when she was afraid any word out of her mouth would sound awkward or clumsy, maybe. But every so often, her eyes darted toward you, sitting there in the seat next to her, looking out the window.

You didn’t say much either, only the directions to the location, and that only made Vi more nervous. Were you nervous, too? Or maybe just tired?

Your hands rested lightly in your lap, your fingers brushing against the fabric of your jeans as if you needed something to do. She wanted to ask what you were thinking, wanted to know what it felt like to finally see your dream of a book shop finally coming true, but the words died in her throat.

So instead, she just focused on the road.

When the truck finally pulled into the parking lot of your shop, Vi parked and cut the engine. She stepped out quickly, wanting to busy herself with something, anything, and moved to the back of the truck to grab the boxes of books you’d brought along. You followed and as you reached for one of the smaller boxes, Vi stopped you with a gentle shake of her head.

“I’ve got it,” she said softly, lifting the heavier boxes with ease. “Just lead the way.”

You nodded, your eyes darting to her for a brief moment before you started toward the front door. The shop was was in a nice spot really, tucked between a florist and a bakery, a nice park and garden across the street, but even from the outside, Vi could see the potential in it. The windows were clean, sunlight streaming through and lighting up the empty space inside.

When you unlocked the door and stepped in, Vi followed eagerly. The smell of fresh wood and paint filled the air, and even though there wasn’t much inside yet—just a few shelves and a small counter—she could already see it coming together.

“This is… wow,” she murmured, setting the boxes down near one of the shelves. “It’s cozy.”

You gave her a small smile, your hands brushing nervously against the hem of your shirt as you moved toward the shelves.

“It’s still a work in progress,” you said quietly. “A lot of work, actually. I’m waiting on more shelves to come in, and I still need to set up the counter, but… it’s a start.”

Vi nodded, watching as you walked around the place, your hands ghosting over the edges of the shelves like you were already imagining them full of books.

She could see the pride in your eyes, also with a tiny hint of worry, and she wanted to tell you how amazing it all was, how proud she was of you for making it happen. But instead, she swallowed the words.

Vi leans against one of the bookshelves like she belongs there, casual and easy, hands tucked into her pockets, the stretch of her shirt over her toned arms doing nothing to help your already scattered thoughts. Her smirk is just a little lopsided, just enough to make your stomach flip before she nods her head toward the unopened boxes in the corner of the shop.

“I can help set those up if you want,” she offers softly, like she hasn’t been gone all these years. Like she hasn’t spent a lifetime on the road, playing sold-out shows, living a life far removed from the one you built here.

You try not to stare, but it’s impossible.

God, she looks good. Too good.

It’s infuriating how effortless it is for her, how she can just stand there and make your mind short-circuit, even knowing you shouldn’t be thinking of her in that way anymore. The warm sunlight coming through the shop windows catches the sharp angle of her jaw, the scar over her brow, the faded pink of her hair, a little messy, a little longer, like she’s run her hands through it one too many times today. She’s older now, more refined in some ways, but she’s still Vi—you could see it.

You swallow, forcing yourself to snap out of it, crossing your arms over your chest like it’ll somehow shield you from how much she still gets under your skin.

“I mean…” You glance at the unopened boxes, pretending to consider it when really. “If you don’t have anywhere else to be.”

Vi grins, and it’s so damn charming, so easy, that you nearly roll your eyes at yourself for reacting to it. “Nope. Nowhere else I’d rather be.”

“Alright,” you murmur, more to yourself than her. “Just… don’t make a mess.”

Vi chuckles warmly, almost teasing as she pushes off the bookshelf and moves closer.

“No promises,” she says, and the way she’s looking at you makes you think she’s not just talking about the shelves.

And you—well, you’re not sure if that terrifies you or if you’ve been waiting for it all along.

Vi keeps showing up.

At first, it’s under the guise of helping—the heavy lifting, the putting together more furniture until the shop starts to take real shape.

The first couple of weeks, she barely takes a break, sleeves rolled up, hands smudged with dust and the occasional splinter on her calloused hands, helping with hauling in shipments of new books before you can even get to the door, without you even needing to ask. She’d wear a fitted shirt or a tank top sometimes, showing off her strong arms as she worked—and you knew for a fact she was doing it on purpose.

You watch her from behind the counter sometimes, the way she moves like she’s so at home here. You spend your days organizing books while she works on all the heavy stuff, sneaking glances when you think she won’t notice.

Sometimes she catches you, and she’ll smirk in a way that used to make you weak in the knees back in high school, and you have to turn away quickly, pretending you weren’t staring.

You tell yourself it’s nothing, that it’s just nice having an extra set of hands around.

But the shop is nearly done now—the shelves are up, the cozy reading corner is arranged just right, most books in their place—and Vi is… still here.

She stops by in the mornings, sometimes bringing coffee just the way you like them, sometimes walking in just because she was wondering how you were doing. She lingers, finds reasons to stay even when there’s no more work to do.

And you let her.

Maybe because it’s comfortable… and familiar.

Or maybe because, deep down, some part of you doesn’t want her to stop showing up.

One evening, as you’re stacking a few last-minute books onto a display, Vi leans against the counter, watching you like she’s been doing all day.

“So,” she says, and you can hear the grin in her voice before you even look up. “Think you’re finally ready to open?”

“Yeah,” you murmur, a small smile tugging softly at the corner of your lips. “I think so.”

Vi nods, eyes lingering on you longer than they should, like she’s about to say something else—something important—but instead, she just pushes off the counter, stretching slightly.

“Good,” she says. “It’s all looking really good.”

“Thanks, Vi,” you smile softly. “You know, I should really pay you… for the work you did, I mean. You did a lot of it and—”

Vi’s lips quirk into a smirk, “Yeah? Gonna put me on payroll?”

You shake your head, feeling suddenly shy under her stare, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “I mean it—”

“C’mon, don’t do that.” She cuts you off with a quiet scoff, shaking her head. “It’s fine really. I just… put some shelves together. Carried a few boxes.”

Vi watches you carefully, her smirk fading into something softer. She looks down for a second, her hand coming up to scratch the back of her neck, thinking about what to say.

“You don’t owe me anything,” she says quietly. “Besides, I told you I wanted to help.”

And the way she says it—the way her gaze lingers on you, the way her voice dips slightly—makes your breath hitch for a second.

Because it almost sounds like she means more than just the shop.

Like she’s saying, I wanted to be here. I wanted to see you.

“I… still feel like I should do something…” Your voice trails off as you look away from her.

The tiniest of pouts plays at your lips as you cross your arms, before glancing back up at Vi. And damn it, she misses it. She misses you.

She smiles despite herself, the corners of her lips curving up before she can stop it.

“Well, you could come to Vander’s this Friday,” Vi suggests, trying to keep her voice light, casual.

You blink, a little surprised by the suggestion.

“Vander’s?” you repeat.

Vi clears her throat and adjusts her footing, her hand coming to scratch the back of her neck again, “T-The band is playing a small set… for, uh, Benzo’s birthday…”

“Benzo’s birthday?” you ask, your voice a little softer than before.

Her smile falters, just a bit, as if she’s not sure how to tell you this.

“Yeah… I just thought, I’d really like it if you came,” Vi continues, her words trailing off, her eyes softening as she catches the way you’re watching her.

You pause for a moment, letting her words sink in, and you realize there’s something more to this invitation than she’s letting on.

And you didn’t know if you should accept it.

“I didn’t know Benzo’s birthday was coming up,” you reply with a soft laugh.

To be fair, you haven’t even seen him or Vander in a while ever since… well…

“It’d be nice… to have you there,” Vi says again, a little more tentative this time.

The truth is, you’re scared.

Scared of what it might mean to show up at her show, to step into her world again, even for just a night, remembering how hard it had been the last time you were together.

But, you can’t help yourself, and you say…

“Okay,” you say softly despite the nervous flutter in your stomach. “I’ll be there.”

Then, she smiles—genuine, full, like you’ve just given her something she wasn’t sure she’d get back. “Really? That’d be—yeah, that’d be great.”

“Friday then,” you say with a soft smile.

Vi nods, a little too eagerly, her whole body seeming to react before her mind even catches up.

“Mhm. Friday.”

Her voice is quiet but sure like a promise she intends to keep, like she’d carve the date into stone if you asked her to.

And god, the way she’s looking at you drives you absolutely fucking insane.

After all these years—she still looks at you like that. Like she’d do anything you asked her to. Like she’d drop everything if you told her to stay.

“I’ll see you then,” you murmur.

And Vi just stands there, watching you, her smile lingering long after you’ve turned away.

Fuck. She’s still very much in trouble.

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[lovelettersfromluna]

Not Strong Enough

Summary: Rule number 1 of being best friends with a vampire. Never let them drink your blood.

an: I HEAR YOU ALL YELLING AT ME IM SORRY!! This took entirely too long to get to you guys, but it’s here now! Better late than never right?? Is this heavily inspired by twilight? Yes. Did I use a BoyGenius song as the title? It’s lesbian smut, obviously. Is Ellie going to be a brooding depressed vampire? Oh hell yeah. I hope you all like this! I’m a slut for anything supernatural so this was obvi very fun for me to write. As always, love you all so so much! Thanks for reading 🤍

Warnings: SMUT!!, MDNI!!, scissoring (if ur mad I’m doing another scissoring fic….idk what to tell you it’s hot), messy kissing, Ellie bites reader (outside of blood sucking), mentions of marking, mentions of bruises, mentions of blood, Ellie is kind of insufferable for a small bit but I promise it gets better, please lmk if I missed anything!

Read part 1 here!!

Ellie knew it was a bad idea from the very beginning.

She knew that she was too weak for you, even outside of sucking your blood. You were too fucking good for her, too much of a dream for Ellie to go and fuck up like she did.

Truth be told, Ellie expected all of it. She expected to get utterly addicted to you, she expected the blurred lines of your relationship to become even more blurred when she began sucking you dry of your life source, she even expected herself to lose control when she was in the act, humping and grinding your soft body like a wild fucking animal as if she had no control over herself.

She expected all of it, every single aspect that came with the territory, she knew was coming.

But the hardest part of it all? Was leaving you completely.

Because she knew the moment she felt herself lose control while she was on top of you that night in your apartment, she knew she needed to leave you. She needed to abandon you and your friendship for the greater good, for your sake.

Ellie knew that she wasn’t good for you, and you weren’t good for her. But that didn’t make the pain of not seeing you any less.

She thought she’d be able to do it at first, but the texts from you only reminded her of how much she loved your company, how obsessed she was with simply being around you.

She wound frown every time her phone went off, a low groan leaving her lips when she lifted it up to look at her screen, only to see it was from you.

Ellieeeeee

Where are you?

Haven’t seen u in the longest :((

Ellie can practically hear your pout in the way you text her. She knows you too well, and she knows that you aren’t handling her sudden disappearance well.

At this point, it’s been about two months since Ellie has seen you last? Maybe three? She stopped keeping count because it was driving her insane. It wasn’t even the blood supply that she missed, Ellie would go hungry ten times over, dying from starvation if it meant she could be around you without feeling she was robbing you of your life, ruining things that you were meant to experience because she was too fucking selfish.

Ellie misses you, and it pains her that she hasn’t been able to have you in so long.

Well…not entirely at least. She knew she’d lose her mind entirely if she couldn’t at least be around you for a few moments, so her usual nighttime visits become a bit more frequent when she decides she can’t be around you anymore. She’s a lot more careful when she does it though, knowing how sensitive you were to her presence. It was almost unbelievable how easily you’d woken up to her in your room in the past. She doesn’t know how she’d explain things if you woke up now, not having seen her in so long. So she’s extra aware of how much noise she makes.

Seeing you sleep is almost enough to keep Ellie’s demons at bay, the ones that screamed for you, yearned for you to be by her side, to have your warm skin pressed against her much colder one.

As per usual, she’s scaling up the brick wall of your apartment building, making her way up to your bedroom like thief in the night. You continue to leave your window open every night, and it breaks Ellie’s heart because she knows you’re doing it for her, most likely hoping she slips into your window as she usually does.

It means Ellie needs to be even more careful than she anticipated.

She doesn’t even dare to sit on your bed, standing in the corner of your room as she watches your chest rise and fall. She doesn’t even breathe, scared that the sound of it will wake you.

And she desperately wants to reach out and let her fingers run along your soft skin, desperate for the feeling that you always brought her when you’re near. It makes her fists balk at her sides as she practically itches to feel you, fighting back any and every thought that she had to touch you, if even for a moment.

But she doesn’t. Instead, he stays with you just before the sun rises. She knows it’s risky, and she knows she shouldn’t do it in the event that you wake up and see her. Even if she’s fast enough to dart out of your room before you can even call her name or turn the lights on, you’re too smart for that. You’d know what was happening before she can even begin to gaslight you into thinking it was simply a dream.

She can’t help herself, not when it comes to you. Seeing you sleep satisfies the burning feeling in her chest, the one that yearns so desperately for you, it’s enough to make her knees weak. It’s almost like you’re capable of evoking the same feelings she had when she was a human, when she was weak and stupid and felt nervous around women. Until you showed up, Ellie hadn’t experienced those feelings in a long time, she’d almost forgotten about them.

You always remind her though.

Like when she’s about to leave you, knowing she’s cutting it too close to the time you’re going to wake up and start your day. Her footsteps are practically silence, even against the old, creaky floorboards of your apartment.

She’s almost out of your window, one leg outside as she plants her foot against the fire escape when she hears it. You began mumbling in your sleep, tossing a bit, clearly bothered by whatever dream you were having. While this should’ve been the clearest sign for Ellie to leave as quickly as possible before your eyes opened a bit to see her, she doesn’t. Instead, she stays sat on your window sill, simply watching as you turn to face her, eyes still closed as you pout in your sleep.

If Ellie had a heart that was still beating, she’s sure it would’ve stopped. Because suddenly your mumbling is just clear enough for her to hear.

“Ellie….” You sigh out softly, barely loud enough for the undead girl to hear, but she does. Regardless of the city waking up below her, or the sound of your ceiling fan creaking about, she hears it. It makes her frown deeply, swallowing back the intense whimper that threatens to escape and echo throughout your room.

She isn’t sure if she’s ever left your room so quickly, the girls eyes going wide as she made the familiar path down the side of your building to your side walk.

Even when she got home that night, the vampire practically breaking the front door down of her apartment to get in, she couldn’t get the sound of your voice uttering her name so sweetly, calling out for her even in the depths of sleep that you were in, tugged so deeply by your dreams, you were still calling out for her.

Ellie knew that night, that she had to stay away from her. For both your sake, and her own.

And she’s right, because you were suffering just as much as Ellie was.

Ellie’s presence was always scarce, and while it bothered you a bit before you learned what she was, it made sense. She was a creature of the night, something that seemingly only existed in storybooks, coming to life and living the strange lifestyle that she did.

But you knew immediately that this was different.

The morning after you saw Ellie last left a bitter taste in your mouth. As you woke up that morning, your neck sore with the bruises of Ellie’s lips on your skin, body far too drained and tired even after a night of a sleep that was just a bit too deep. It was similar to almost all the times Ellie had drank from you the night prior.

So, why did you feel so bad that morning?

You knew that you didn’t owe Ellie anything, that you were the one to suggest this in the first place, so there truly wasn’t any room for you to be upset for reasons unknown. What were you even supposed to say to her? That you had a weird feeling? One that you desperately wanted her to relieve by telling you it was all okay?

As much as you wanted to, you knew things between you and Ellie weren’t like that.

You were her friend. You were just her friend, and as much as you wanted more, you knew deep down that if Ellie truly wanted you that way, she would’ve made you she’s a long time ago.

And maybe that’s what bothers you the most when this little dry spell occurs, because the sudden lack of her presence leaves you entirely too much time to dwell on things, wondering what it was that you did wrong, what you could have possibly said to create this sudden rift between the two of you.

Ellie had always been flirtatious, flashing that pretty smile in your direction that made you weak in the knees, calling you sweet names that made your heart beat faster. She was practically dangling it all right in front of your face, the frequent touches, the late night visits at the foot of your bed, all this time when you have her the benefit of the doubt, chalking it all up to her simply wanting to see you and nothing more than that, suddenly made no sense to you.

With time came confusion, and with confusion came anger, desperate to understand why she left you, what you had done to possibly make her so scarce so suddenly. And once the third month had hit without seeing Ellie, you were furious, feeling as though you had one choice and one choice only.

To find Ellie, and get the answers from her yourself.

You don’t go to Ellie’s apartment, not usually at least.

Ellie always told you she liked hanging out at your place, going on and on about how warm and cozy it was being there. She’d never admit it to you because she didn’t want you to think she was a freak, but being in a place that smelled so heavily like you made her brain go absolutely insane.

You’ve been there maybe a handful of times, sometimes heading to her place after a night out, or even stopping by whenever you were in the neighborhood. Bottom line was, your apartment was the designated hang out spot for you and Ellie.

Regardless though, you remember how to get there like it’s written on the back of your hand. You thought about Ellie’s apartment a lot, loving how much the space reflected her. You always wished you had the chance to stay there more often.

You can’t think about that though, not now. Not when you’re storming down the expensive halls of her complex down to her door, and landing a heavy fist on the door. All you can truly care about now, is seeing Ellie and demanding an explanation for her sudden disappearance.

And it’s all so unlike you, so out of your character. If it was anyone else, you’d let it go, giving yourself a few days to sulk before forgetting about it all together and simply moving on. Maybe it’s because it’s Ellie, and maybe it’s because you feel a tad bit used after being her personal buffet for the last few times you’d been around her, just for her to up and leave.

It’s most definitely that. You just don’t want to admit it in fears of sounding selfish.

You land another firm knock on her door when she doesn’t answer in time, feeling yourself grow angrier as the moments pass.

Soon, she’s finally opening the door. The image of her nearly takes your breath away.

Because Ellie always looks beautiful, perhaps it’s the fact that you haven’t seen her in some time, but she looks fucking ethereal standing before you. So tall, so confident, her eyes so fucking dark, piercing through your very soul as she stares down at you. Her lips look like rubies compared to her cold, pale skin, so plump and kissable.

All you can think about is the way they felt pressed against your throat, and it makes you lift your hand to press against the two small circular scars on your neck.

Ellie frowns deeply as she eyes you, eyebrows furrowed and expression virtually unreadable.

“What are you doing here” she mumbles out, shifting on her feet awkwardly. Her question alone sets the fire off in your chest again, making you seethe as you take a deep inhale before responding.

“Are you kidding me Ellie?” You practically spit out, staring up at the girl in disbelief.

She lets out a soft sigh, her tattooed hand coming up to rub her face roughly before it moves up to rub through her hair.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” she manages before she tries shutting her door in your face. “You can’t be here” she mumbles out softly, the girl fully expecting to be able to shut the door.

You however, have other plans.

You’re quick to press your hand against the door, stopping her from closing it before you practically force yourself between it. Ellie’s eyes widen a bit at this, not used to seeing you so forward.

Soon, you’re pushing yourself into her apartment, your palm pressing against your forehead as you began pacing back and forth Ellie’s lavish apartment.

“I don’t…I don’t understand you Ellie. Is it something I said? Did I do something? If so please enlighten me I beg you” you blurt out, all of the words fumbling out of your mouth in one breath.

Ellie frowns deeply as she watches you pace back and forth her apartment, her eyebrows furrowed. She can truly see the damaged shes caused when she sees you like this, because it was much easier to watch you when you slept, so peaceful and unaware of the troubles that came with her absence. She knew you were going to blame yourself, and as much as she knew she couldn’t allow you to do that to yourself, she knew staying away was even more important.

Seeing you like this was possibly the hardest thing Ellie had to ever endure.

You don’t stop there, taking advantage of the lack of a response from Ellie to continue ranting.

“Is it because of the blood thing? If so I’m sorry. I am so fucking sorry for simply caring enough to make sure you didn’t die from starvation or whatever it is that happens to you when you don’t eat. I’m sorry for making sure that you were okay, if that was so wrong please tell me…” your words trail off as you let out an exasperated sigh, your feelings and emotions becoming far too much as you practically sob out to her.

But then you’re pausing, your chest rising and falling quickly as you struggle to catch your breath. Ellie isn’t entirely sure why you’ve suddenly stopped, your back towards her as you stand there, doing god knows what.

When you finally turn around, your eyes are red and your cheeks are wet with tears.

“Were you just….using me? As your personal fucking blood bag?” Your words are shaky as you hold back another sob, your fists balled down at your sides.

Ellie freezes when you say this, because this is exactly what she was fucking afraid of.

It was a common theme throughout…her people. Vampires were notoriously alluring, seducing countless innocent and clueless victims into being their personal meal. The humans were almost always oblivious to what was being done to them, vampires often times using this to their advantage to keep them under their spell for as long as possible. It would most commonly been done in a way that made the humans believe the vampires loved them, dangling them by a thread as they promised them a life of eternity together, to live in immortality, side by side until the end of times. It almost never ended that way though, the vampires would suck and suck and suck until one day they went a bit too far, and their obedient human keeled over and died.

Ellie never wanted things to be that way with you.

She never even wanted you to think it was that way. She wanted you to understand that this was entirely up to you, and it could stop whenever you wanted it to. It’s why she constantly voiced to you that this was still a factor right before she fed off of you. Ellie would rather die than use you for a source of food, because truthfully you were far too good for that, too fucking pure to be used as something as low as a food source.

So when the words leave your lips, Ellie sees red.

Shes in front of you in less than a second, towering over you and staring down into your tear soaked eyes. Her nostrils are flared as she tries to hold back from tearing down her entire apartment complex around the both of you.

“You can’t possibly be stupid enough to think I’d ever use you for something so low..” her voice is low, and there’s a gravel in it that makes your core tighten and your chest bloom with something you can’t quite place, a feeling that can only be shelved in your mind right next to where Ellie takes place.

You don’t hack one, hot tears continuing to spill from your eyes as you stare at her with furrowed eyebrows.

“It makes sense….get your fix and then leave me like I’m nothing…this was probably your plan all along” you grit out.

Ellie licks her lips, knowing that you’re hurting just as much as she is, and your words are simply coming from a place of confusion, desperate to understand why she did what she did to you, why she left without a trace.

She leans in, her face a mere inches from yours. You can smell her minty breath wafting onto your face, and it’s bizarre because even that has a slight chill to it. It makes your cheeks cold, and it makes you want to reach out and warm her up.

“I would rather die a million deaths before using you for that…you and I both know this” she seethes out.

And it makes you whimper, because Ellie’s always been so fucking intense, so poetic. It makes your insides flip upside down, and your eyebrows knit together as you struggle to hold back a whimper.

Your features soften as you continue to cry in front of her. “Then why did you leave me…” you whisper out to the girl.

It breaks her heart how desperate you are for this. Not even for her, but simply for answers. All you want is to understand why she left, what you did to make her abruptly disappear without a single word.

Ellie’s eyes flutter shut for a moment, her pink tongue darting out to lick her plush lips before she finally speaks.

“I’ve never…been so weak for someone…in my entire life” she breaths out.

It surely isn’t what you’re expecting her to say. You think she’s going to say she’s gotten enough of you, or she just couldn’t handle having someone like you around. Hell, you were even beginning to think she was trying to cover up all her roots here and start somewhere else.

“I always have been…from the moment I fucking laid eyes on you, I knew you weren’t good for me…you’re too good for me” she continues, her eyes fluttering open as she finally stares down into yours. You can finally look into yours as you blink away the tears that are pooling in your eyes and blurring your vision, and it allows you to see the pain in her eyes, just how much she’d been struggling with all of this.

“It isn’t even your blood…it made it worse, yes…but just being around you is like…it’s like a fucking drug to me. You give me this feeling that I can’t…I can’t even begin to describe how fucking euphoric you make me feel” each of her words sounds like a plea, a plea for you to let her go, to unhand her from the death grip you have on her.

“And suddenly I’m always in your apartment, and you’re offering yourself to me and it’s like a dream come true and I feel like a fucking monster when I’m on top of you, sucking you dry of your fucking blood” it’s her turn to start pacing, running her hands through her hair as she settles one of her hands on her hip, she moves slower than you were, simply voicing the struggles she’s seemed to have with you from the moment you met.

She finally turns towards you, and she’s slowing make her way to where you’ve been standing this entire time. When she’s right back where she was, stood right in front of you, she takes your hand into hers ever so gently. It’s enough to make you flinch, how cold she is in contrast to your hot skin. She sighs, bringing your hand up to cradle her cheek, and her eyes flutter shut, nearly rolling back as she presses a soft kiss to your palm.

“I’m not strong enough for you…I don’t think I ever will be” she finally admits, and it’s like she’s not only admitting it to you, but to herself as well.

You hold back a whine as she kisses your palm, her lips so soft, so gentle with you.

“Then…then don’t be…why can’t you just let things happen” you sigh out as you stare up at her, in awe as the girl leaned into your touch as if it were her life line.

You aren’t even entirely sure what you’re asking her for, what this so called ‘thing’ is that she won’t let happen. Is it the feeding you’re alluding to? An act of true platonic kindness? Or are you asking for more, are you begging for something that Ellie has deprived you both of for the sake of the greater good?

Both you and Ellie have these same questions running through your minds.

She chuckles dryly against your skin, shaking her head as her hand gives your wrists a gentle squeeze.

“You aren’t even sure what it is you’re asking for…not from someone like me” she admits, eyes opening as she finally looks down at you again.

“I can’t…give you the things you deserve. I’m not capable of being the perfect person for you, not when I am what I am” her words are like venom on her tongue, the girl utterly disgusted with the monster that she became against her own will, the hell that she was forced to live over and over again with no foreseeable end.

“The only thing I can do, is take from you…I take and take and take….” Her words trail off, a soft frown on her lips before she finally looks at you once again.

“Until I’ve taken everything that you have…and there is no more of you to offer” she whispers out, as if the mere thought of a world without you pains her so much to say, she barely wants to say it.

You lick your lips, your eyes searching hers before you quickly shake your head.

“Do you want me? The same way that I want you?” You question carefully, fearful of what it is that she might say, worried that you’d been reading things entirely wrong, even after Ellie basically confessed how utterly obsessed she is with you.

She smirks softly, humming lowly as she gently brings your hand down to her lips, pressing another gentle kiss to it.

“It’s like I’ve waited my entire life for you, baby….saying that I want you would be an understatement” she chuckles out softly.

And you aren’t entirely sure how it even gets to this point, because you marched over to Ellie’s apartment with a purpose, that purpose being to yell at her and get the answers you deserved. But suddenly you’re standing in front of her, and your heart is exploding with so many different emotions and feelings, all of them for Ellie, and she’s just confessed to you that she wants you like you want her.

And you have no choice, but to kiss her.

It catches Ellie off guard, a soft whine leaving her lips as accepts your lips with gratitude, her arms moving down to drape along your waist as she pulls you closer.

It’s everything she’s ever dreamt it would be. Your lips soft and sweet against her own, your skin so warm and inviting, making her drink you up, fueling her with the warmth she’s lacked since the day she died. But despite how good it feels, she knows this is wrong, and it goes against everything she said she’d do for your sake.

Ellie breaks way first, watching as you struggle to catch your breath from the intense kiss. She’s quick to stop you from leaning in again, her hand cupping your face as she stares into your eyes.

“Angel…we can’t…I told you, I’m no good for you” she sighs out, the words paining her to even say.

You give her a soft pout, your arms wrapping around her shoulders loosely as you press your warm body against hers.

“I trust you Ellie….I know that you’d never hurt me” you sigh out softly as you stare into her eyes, your hand coming up to tuck a strand of her soft hair behind her ear.

“We don’t have to do the blood thing…but I just…can’t we just give us a try?” Your eyes are wide as you speak, eager to feel Ellie’s lips against yours again, even if for a moment. You don’t even take into consideration that she could say no, that she could turn you around and throw you out of her apartment without another word, doubling down on what she said she’d do with you.

But as Ellie said before, she’s just too fucking weak for you.

And hearing you ask for it, ask for her, it has her stomach in knots, and she feels like no matter what it is you ask her, she couldn’t possibly say no to you.

“What are you doing to me…” she sighs softly before she leans in to kiss you again, reciprocating the passion and heat that you gave her mere moments ago. You whine against her, your hands sliding back to tug at her hair, keeping her close as your lips moves against hers, your warm tongue sliding against hers.

“Missed you so much…” you sigh against her, and it makes Ellie groan softly as she nods, hands sliding down to grip your waist as she walks you back towards her bedroom, lips never leaving yours.

“Missed you more than anything, angel” she mumbles against your lips as she presses her palm against her bedroom door behind you, pushing it open and leading you further inside.

Ellie’s bedroom smells like her. It’s dark, and cold but oh so comforting. You practically sigh against her lips when you feel her laying your body down against her black silk sheets, the expensive material like butter on your skin. It makes your senses go in overdrive, Ellie’s hands caressing your skin, roaming around your body as her tongue rubs against yours in a dirty, passionate kiss.

“Don’t know how long I’ve waited to have you like this…” she sighs softly, her lips breaking away from yours to kiss along your jaw, down to your throat. You don’t miss the way Ellie kisses the now faded marks of her teeth on your neck, licking the skin softly before she sucks into it, sure to leave dark marks in the morning.

“Missed marking you up baby….” She hums against you, drinking in the sweet moans that leave your mouth, the sound alone like music to her ears.

Your mind is fuzzy, almost blank besides the thoughts of Ellie that stood in the forefront of your brain. It was like she was filling you up entirely, making you almost overwhelmed with her. Her scent, her cold skin, her soft hands, all of it was almost too much, a combination of sensory overload that kissed your skin so deliciously.

Soon she’s kissing down your body, practically worshiping her as her lips work on your soft skin. Her hands are pushing up your t-shirt, kissing your stomach and your ribcage until she’s tugging you up a bit to skillfully slip your shirt over your head. You’re bare before her, her lips matching onto your pebbled nipples as her tattooed hands work on your soft shorts, tugging them down your legs.

You don’t miss the way her tongue swirls around your nipple before letting go with a pop, lips moving up to nip at your collar bone with her flat teeth. Hard enough to leave a mark, but gentle enough to not break skin.

You giggle softly, bending your legs back to help as she tugs your shorts and panties off. She’s slotting herself between your legs, humming softly as she gives you a smirk.

“Something funny baby?” She questions before leaning in to press another kiss to the corner of your lips. You nod, a dreamy smile on your lips as you bring your hand down to tug at the hem of Ellie’s t-shirt.

“Seems like old habits never die, that’s all….need this off” you huff out softly, fingers fumbling between the hem of her t shirt and the waistband of her sweats.

Ellie chuckles at how eager you are before she nods, pulling back to tug her shirt off before she rolls over a bit to pull off her sweats and underwear as well before she makes her way back between your legs, towering over you as she crawls into you like a predator would its prey.

And it leaves your pussy soaking wet, because it’s better than you could’ve ever imagined. Ellie’s tits are pebbled similarly to yours, tattoos littering her pretty skin, muscles so beautiful they could make your mouth fucking water.

You’d always seen Ellie for the beauty she possessed…but this? This was so much more different.

It made your head fucking spin.

You whined softly as you practically tug her into her by her shoulders, moaning softly at the feeling of her boobs squishing against yours as your mouth attacks her in a needy kiss.

“Want you…” you sigh softly against her as your hand slides down between the both of you, cupping her pussy. You feel Ellie suck in a sharp breath at the feeling of your warm fingers against her sopping wet core, and she gives you an eager nod before rolling over, her strong hands gripping your thighs and taking you with her as she forces you to straddle her.

Being on top of Ellie is just as good as being under her, almost better in all honesty. The lighting in her bedroom is dim, but you can just make out her features with the moonlight that spills in through her big windows, and the moody lights she has set up along her walls. You don’t even realize it because you’re too busy gawking at her, but she lifts her leg up a bit and easily slots you down so that your pussy is right against hers, the feeling making you moan softly.

“You’re so pretty Ellie…” you practically sigh out. It makes Ellie moan softly, and she swears the sound of you calling her pretty is enough to bring her back to life, reversing the effects of her undead state.

“Fuck…can’t say those things to me baby…you’re gonna…Jesus..ruin me” she struggles to get out as she grips your hips, forcing you to roll your hips so that your clit and her clit bumps against each other.

Your eyes flutter shut when you feel it. It’s so fucking wet, and soft, and it’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before. Sure you’d done it with other girls before, but this just feels…it almost feels like….

“Like you were fucking made for me princess” Ellie grits out, her teeth caging her words in as she fucks you down onto her pussy, practically using you for both hers and your pleasure.

You’re too far gone to pick up on it, too indulged in the feeling of Ellie’s strong hands gripping your thighs so deliciously, sure to leave marks in their shape when you both wake up in the morning.

Your back is arching almost painfully, your hand gripping her thigh as you find the rhythm Ellie has set for you, finding the perfect spot and keeping it there as you drive both you and her to your orgasms.

“I’m…Ellie you feel so good…you’re gonna make me cum” you squeak out, eyebrows furrowed as you finally look down at the girl beneath you, only to find that she’s just as much of a mess as you are. Her hair is messy and her lips look so pouty and kissable. It’s hard to make out, but her fanged teeth are pressing into her lips, and you’re sure it’s the sexiest thing you’ve seen in your entire life.

She gives you an encouraging nod, one of her hands coming to your ass and kneading it harshly before giving it a firm spank, the sinful noise echoing off the walls of her pristine bedroom.

“I know baby…I know…come on, want you to cum with me…that’s it…that’s my good girl” her praises make your chest burn, and it leaves knots in your stomach. It only drives you further, your hips moving faster as they roll against Ellie’s, desperately chasing both hers and your orgasm.

“Ellie…Ellie I’m…I’m gonna-“ you cry out, back arching as you grip her thighs quickly, feeling your own shake as your orgasm begins washing over you.

Ellie catches it right before it happens, the girl quickly sitting up and wrapping her arms around your body, pressing your chest against hers as she pulls you down to kiss her passionately, her own orgasm washing over her like a fucking train.

Your bodies are so in tune, so in sync that your moans almost mix to create a symphony that can only be described as love, total and unconditional love as her arms keep you close, as if stopping you from running away from her, from the feeling she gives you. Her lips are working against yours as you breath hard, struggling to catch your breath in the sloppy kiss.

You’re a whining mess, your poor pussy far too sensitive to deal with the amount of pleasure that Ellie brought to you, all of it washing over you like an intense sea of euphoria, nearly drowning you as you held onto the girl with weak hands.

She knows you’re weak, because she’s pulling you down to rest your warm body against her cool sheets, all while keeping her cool body pressed against yours to bring you back down to earth with her.

“That’s it baby…I know….did so good for me…” she sighs softly as she leaves gentle kisses against your cheeks and eyes, watching as the aftermath of your orgasm slowly pulls you to the depths of sleep, all of it too much on your body.

“My beautiful girl…my girl…my girl…” she hums out, almost like a song as she watches you cling to her in your sleep, soft hums and huffs leaving your lips, all of which makes Ellie smile adoringly at you as she holds you while you sleep.

And even while you’re settling into one of the deepest sleeps you’ve ever experienced, you don’t miss the soft kisses against your lips and cheeks, all paired with the constant, non stop praises from Ellie.

You especially don’t miss the way she leans in settles against the pillow next to you, mumbling the softest, sweetest words to you as her hands caressing your naked body.

“I love you, pretty girl..”

[leclercsainzz]

GOOD FOR YOU

PAIRINGS: nicholas alexander chavez x fem!reader

TYPE: social media au

A/N: saw an edit of him w/ this song and had to make a smau based on it:)

yourusername

📍 monte-carlo, monaco

liked by nicholasalexanderchavez, bellahadid and 677,810 others

yourusername: 🇲🇨

view 5,037 comments

user: girl— who is that?!?!?

user: YN? IS THAT A MAN ON THE LAST POST?

madelyncline: drop dead gorgeous! 🤤

↳ yourusername: says youu, bbyg;)

user: who is that?

user: how much ya’ll wanna bet it’s a formula one driver 😭

↳ user: why do you say that? lmao

↳ user: just a hunch

user: does anyone know who that is??

user: why does he look like @landonorris

user: pretty girl!! 😍

user: whoever it is, he secured a baddie

user: the life i aspire to have

user: babes, don’t be shy, tag him 😔

user: YN, DON’T GATE KEEP THAT MAN FROM US

↳ yourusername: sorry bestie 🤪 #gaslightgatekeepgirlboss

user: if it’s a formula one guy i swear—

user: someone know who it is?!??

user: the prettiest girl ever 😍

drewstarkey: 😉

↳ user: drew?!??? what are you doing here?!?!?

haileybieber: gorgg

user: is she dating drew?!!?

↳ user: can’t be, he’s got a buzz cut

user: ooh to be like yn ln 😭

user: i need to know who that lucky man is

user: who is that??!? im so invested omg

user: girl—

user: OMG 😮 WHAT IF IT’S CHARLES LECLERC??!!?

↳ user: bItch omg— imagine

↳ user: i think he had a gf, no?

↳ user: that man has a new gf every season 😭

user: I NEED ANSWERS

user: i love how everyone is so invested in her new man

user: stunning 😩

nicholasalexanderchavez

liked by yourusername, chloessevigny and 748,027 others

nicholasalexanderchavez: MONSTERS: The Lyle and Erik Menendez Story is streaming now only on @netflix

tagged: @cooperkoch @bardenmantarctic @chloessevigny

view 5,027 comments

user: the series was inaccurate but you and cooper killed it

user: even though the story wasn’t portrayed right, you were great

user: DIMES DIMES DIMES DIMES

↳ user: mother fucking dimes 👏🏼

user: him and cooper deserve an oscar for their performance

user: my new obsession, i swear 😭

user: the eighth slide OMG ANSNS—

user: ariana (YN) what are you doing here?!? 👀

user: my new white boy of the month

↳ user: of the year*

user: even though it was inaccurate, he slayed

user: crushing on him and cooper HARD

user: who’s here because of tiktok???

↳ user: MEEEE

user: i have a crush on him fr 😭

user: i better see him in more movies and/or shows

user: OBSESSED OMG 😍

user: you and cooper have me on my knees omg—

user: soooooo fine

user: i binge watched the whole series in one day

↳ user: i did too 😩

user: ooouu he fit fit

user: ARE YOU SINGLE?!!?

↳ user: asking the right questions 🤣

user: nicholas, one chance is all i’m asking for

user: what a beautiful man 😩

user: anyone else see yn in the likes?

↳ user: she’s so real for that

↳ user: she just like me fr

yourusername

liked by drewstarkey, madelyncline and 704,017 others

yourusername: <3

view 5,037 comments

user: i was so convinced she was with drew

user: YN, BABES, WHO IS IT?!? 😭

↳ yourusername: that’s a secret i’ll never tell;)

user: ooooh he buff buff

madisonbaileybabe: face card never declines, oml 😍

user: that’s a HOT back omggg—

user: girl, give us a hint, please

user: the fourth slide 😩

user: whoever he is, he’s HOT ASF

user: he looks hot, yn’s hot, i love hot people

user: pretty girl

user: and people said that it was that formula one driver 💀

madelyncline: sexyyyy

user: i NEED to know who this man is

user: it’s giving ✨ nicholas alexander chavez ✨

↳ user: LMAOOO, that’s a stretch

user: sexy backkk

user: my wife’s got a boyfriend 😭

user: bItchh- i wanna know who it is

user: tag him, don’t be scared

user: i just know he’s about to become the white boy of the month

↳ yourusername: he already is, babes 😉

↳ user: GIRL— WHAT DOES THIS MEAN??

user: my life depends on knowing who this is

user: yn, who is it?!?!???

user: his back is so hot omg

user: he must be hitting the gym often 👅

madisonbeer: gorggg 😍

user: anyone know who it is?

user: she’s soo pretty

user: who is this man?!

user: where are all the fbi girlies at when you need them??

↳ user: LITERALLY OMGG—

drewstarkey: 😏

↳ user: WHAT DO YOU KNOW?!?!?

↳ user: they were supposed to be my endgame frrr 🥺

user: he seems hot

user: gorgeous girl! 😍

nicholasalexanderchavez

liked by drewstarkey, cooperkoch and 748,910 others

nicholasalexanderchavez: monthly recap

view 4,945 comments

user: SIR—

user: hitting me with a thirst trap already?!?? 👀

user: soooo he ain’t single? 😭

user: wait a min— why does his post correlate with yn’s?

user: one chance, please! just ONE fucken chance 🙏🏼

user: THE FIRST PIC HELLO? THE SHOE?!?

↳ user: i’m confused, what?!?

↳ user: look at yn’s recent post

↳ user: bItch OMG

user: damn, so he taken?!? 💔

user: BARK BARK

user: tag her, you coward 😏

user: sooo fine omg

user: he knows how fine he is, i swear

user: @yourusername is that you?!??

user: THE THIRD POST, HELLO?!!? 👅👅👅

user: got me feeling some type of way, i swear

user: wait, is that really yn?!?

↳ user: it’s what we’re all trying to figure out

cooperkoch: 🙂‍↕️

user: finest man everrrrrrr

user: nicholas this nicholas that— but what about COOPER??

↳ user: say it louder, bestie

↳ user: what did man do to deserve him?!? 😭

user: fuck 🫦 he’s HOT

user: my kind of man right here;)

user: LET ME BE ONE OF YOUR GIRLS, PLEASE

user: something’s purring 🫢

user: white boy of the month frfr

user: cooper’s a cutie in that fourth slide

user: drew liked!! could it be yn?!?

user: girl @yourusername this yo man??!? 👀

user: ALLLLL day AND ALLLLL NIGHT

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user: i can cook and clean, if you need someone

user: holyyyyyyy fuck 😍

user: third post is doing something to me 🤤

user: is he dating yn?!?!?

imessage

yourusername

liked by cooperkoch, drewstarkey and 801,035 others

yourusername: lover era 💋

view 5,036 comments

user: THE HARD LAUNCH WE HAVE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR

user: bestie?!?!???? omg?!?!? what?!?!?

↳ yourusername: cats out the bag, i guess 🤷🏻‍♀️

user: oMG

user: i feel so single wtf

user: the second and fourth photo 😭

user: we get it, girl, you won

user: HE SECURED THE BADDEST BITCH OMG 😩

madelyncline: ooou she a baddddie 🫦

user: body so tea the british are coming

nicholasalexanderchavez: you look so good, baby

nicholasalexanderchavez: the most beautiful girl ever

nicholasalexanderchavez: i’m so in love with you 😘

↳ yourusername: i love youuuu 💋

cooperkoch: mom & dad

↳ yourusername: we love you, son 🫶🏼

user: ADOPT ME, PleaSE

user: idk who’s luckier 😭 him or her

user: nOt the white boy of the month

user: YN, HIDE THE EDITS FROM HIM

↳ yourusername: he’s seen them all, bestie 🤣 oops

↳ user: OMGGG?!!?

user: bitch omg

user: nicholas this nicholas that … what aBoUt YN?!? 😍

user: motHER frr 🫦

user: bestie, you’re making me feel so single 🥺

user: obx meets monsters?? 😯

user: the baddest girl everrrr

user: my yndrew heart (they better get together in the show tho)

user: YNNICHOLAS IT IS 😍

user: she’s sooo fine omg

user: @drewstarkey

user: mother is mothering ya’ll 😩

user: THE sexiest couple of 2024

user: tHat’s my girl wtf 😭😭

user: HOT omg

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user: he’s soooo 🫦🫦🫦😍😍😩🙂‍↕️😘👅😭🥰😋😍

nicholasalexanderchavez

liked by cooperkoch, chloessevigny and 894,729 others

nicholasalexanderchavez: 🙂‍↕️

tagged: @yourusername

view 6,936 comments

user: YN, GIRL, tHE TEXT?!??

↳ user: she’s so real for that lmao

user: hELp— the message

user: we get it 😭 you’re taken

user: idk if i wanna be him or yn

user: ugh, he’s sooo fine omg 🫦

yourusername: we did in fact do those things;)

yourusername: #ineedthat 🫦

yourusername: SEXc 😍

↳ nicholasalexanderchavez: you 😉

yourusername: let me show you how proud i am to be yours;)

↳ nicholasalexanderchavez: heading upstairs right now

user: soo fucken fine oml

user: VEINS VEINS VEINS

user: i NEED him soo bad omgg 😩

↳ yourusername: same!

user: HOT 🥵

user: yn’s so lucky omg

user: i feel so single wtf

user: TILL THE NEIGHBORS KNOW HIS NAME

user: 🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦

user: @yourusername BABES, HE’S SOOO FINE 😭

user: this man is so fine 😍

user: it’s not a want, it’s a NEED

user: nicholas, let me just be one of your girls 🙏🏼

user: my body had a reaction to the third post

cooperkoch: was the text really necessary? 🤔

↳ user: 😂 cooper

user: thE THIRD POST

user: finest man ever, i swear

user: father of my kids (real) 😩

nicholasalexanderchavez and behindtheblinds

liked by yourusername, cooperkoch and 866,937 others

behindtheblinds: All eyes on him! Nicholas Alexander Chavez @nicholasalexanderchavez — the next cover star of our new HIGH ROMANCE FW 24 issue —

view 5,836 comments

yourusername: dear lord, when i go to heaven

yourusername: that’s my man, guys 🫦

↳ user: we get it, girl, we get it 😭

↳ user: okay— stop rubbing it on my face, please

↳ nicholasalexanderchavez: all yours baby @yourusername

yourusername: #ineeditdeepinsideme

↳ user: YN?!!?? (you’re so real for this)

yourusername: soooo fine oml 😍

↳ nicholasalexanderchavez: that’s you, my love 😘

user: of course yn is here in the comment being thirsty LMAO

user: YN’s COMMENt 😭

cooperkoch: slayyy

↳ nicholasalexanderchavez: 🫶🏼

user: i’m not a waitress but i’ll take the tip

nicholasalexanderchavez: mwahh

user: WE NEED A COLLAB W CALVIN KLEIN

user: dream ride 😩

user: LORD HAVE MERCY

user: i knew i’d find yn here

user: i wanna thank beyonce for your existence

user: alright— who took my pants?

user: i need to know if he’s seen the edits

↳ user: yn confirmed that he does in fact know about the edits

user: yn, i’m so jealous of you 😭

yourusername: you look soooo good 😍

↳ nicholasalexanderchavez: YOU look good;) you know you do

↳ nicholasalexanderchavez: you better feel good

↳ yourusername: I LOVE YOUUUUU ❤️

↳ nicholasalexanderchavez: I LOVE YOUUUU TOO ❤️

[eloriis]

OPPOSITE - charles leclerc

in which. . y/n l/n was everything charles leclerc wanted, until he didn’t — cl16 x singer! reader

notes : first post in sososososo long!! hope u guys like it and it does well 🤞🏼

and NO HATE towards alex! i ADORE her smm but i needed someone to match the description that sabrina gave in her song

type : smau ⋆ face claim : sabrina carpenter

december 16, 2019

liked by charles_leclerc, francisca.cgomez and 15,547,396 others

y/nuser it’s so romantic in paris 🤍🖤

tagged: charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc all because of you mon amour 🌙

y/nuser je t'aime ☀️

user6 THE MOON AND SUN??

francisca.cgomez BABE?? THE HAIR?? THE DRESS?? OMG IM DYING

y/nuser KIKAAAAA ILYSMMM MWAH MWAH

user1 A MAN?? OMG?? A VROOM VROOM GUY?? WOAHHHH

user2 they just became public and they’re already making me feel single 😔

user3 OH GOD WHAT?? OH GOD

user4 they’re lowkey cute 🤭🤭

user5 THE SOFT LAUNCH OF FUCKING 10 MONTHS HAS FINALLY ENDED I THANK EVERY DEITY I HAVE PRAYED TO FOR THESE PAST MONTHS 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

february 26, 2023

liked by charles_leclerc, gracieabrams and 10,375,984 others

y/nuser when in doubt, turn the piano on <3

tagged: charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc je t'aime, ma lune 🌙 ( i love u, my moon )

y/nuser je t'aime plus, mon soleil ☀️ ( i love u more, my sun )

user1 the moon and sun duo is back ☹️

user2 SHE LOOKS SO PRETTY UGH

user3 the note :(

user4 did charles write that for her?

user5 i don’t think so, i’m pretty sure that’s her handwriting

user6 the second pic made me feel so single

gracieabrams ARE WE GETTING A NEW SONG??

y/nuser IDK ARE YOU??

user7 WHAT WHAT WHAT

user8 Y/N PLS WE ALL BEG, WE’VE BEEN STARVED FOR TOO LONG

user9 if they break up, i’m going to stop believing in love.

march 14, 2023

liked by user1, user2 and 585,697 others

f1updates ferrari driver, charles leclerc caught with mystery woman who is not popstar y/n l/n!

charles and y/n have been in a relationship for almost 5 years. they made their relationship public on december 16 in 2019 after 10 months of dating. they seemed to be deeply in love with each other so what might have been the reason for charles to be caught with a different woman?

let us know your thoughts and feelings on this in the comment section below.

tagged: y/nuser, charles_leclerc

user1 what the fuck? charles what the actual fuck is wrong with you?

user2 i can’t believe the nerve of this man?? FIVE FUCKING YEARS?? down the drain just because he couldn’t keep it in his pants

user3 both charles and the girl are in the wrong because while y/n and this creature kept majority of their lives together private, they still posted about each other regularly so it’s not possible that the girl didn’t know that charles was taken

user4 the audacity of this man? his girlfriend is at the studio most likely writing a song for him and this man is out in the broad daylight cheating on her??

user5 studio?

user4 yeah, she was caught walking into a studio a while before this was posted

user5 fuck bro, that’s so sad

user6 everyday i wake up and wonder where the fuck do men get the audacity to do this shit and stay sane

user7 i’m actually speechless right now. all i can say is poor y/n, she looks so in love with him whenever they’re together and then this man pulls this shit

user8 we were about to get another song about y/ncharles :(

user9 i haven’t just lost faith in men, i’ve lost faith in love as well

march 14, 2023

ynssecretlife has removed sharleclair as a follower

ynssecretlife has unfollowed sharleclair

ynssecretlife has just posted a story! tap to view.

seen by lanthedodo, liliesareme, georgewashingmachine and 98 others

view story replies:

lanthedodo y/n/n, i’m so so so sorry. i promise u NONE of us knew about this

lanthedodo we are all always here for you ❤️

liliesareme y/n bby:( i’m coming over rn

alexisalbono i’m so sorry, lily and are the otw

view more story replies.

y/nuser has deleted 30 posts from their account.

may 25, 2023

liked by charles_leclerc, user39 and 674,694 others

alexandrasaintmleux in paris with amour ⭐️

tagged: charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc the star to my sun

liked by author

user1 this is very similar to the post made by y/n

user2 the nicknames. that hurts me :(

user2 the audacity of these two. ch*rles got bored of the moon so he moved onto another star. honestly fuck off dude.

user3 beautiful couple 😍 ( i giggled at this )

user4 girlie is trying wayyyy too hard to be like y/n…🤓

june 6, 2023

liked by taylorswift, lilymhe and 21,854,297 others

y/nuser i’ve kept all of you guys starved for too long now </3

from my heart to yours, ‘opposite’ is now out 💌

taylorswift i’m so proud of you bby 💗

y/nuser tyy 🤍

lilymhe sobbing, breaking down, screaming, crying, on the floor, breaking dishes

y/nuser LILY BBY 😭😭

alex_albon she’s not even joking. there’s actually broken dishes on the floor and she’s about to flood the living room with her tears

lilymhe shut up. no one asked you 🥰❤️

maxverstappen1 you did so well with this song! proud of you y/n/n 💙

y/nuser tyy so much maxie 🫶🏼🫶🏼

user1 MOTHER IS SO BACK

user2 MIGHT AS WELL SNATCH MY HEART OUT AND STAMP ON IT ATP

liked by landonorris and francisca.cgomez

user3 you did so well y/n, we are all so proud of you for being strong and loving 🤍

liked by lilymhe, francisca.cgomez, iamrebbecad, kellypiquet and 157,286 others

y/nuser thank you so so much, i love all of you so much 🫶🏼

[ellieslob]

★ streamer ellie!

ways to help palestine!!!

S★ she started with fornite and minecraft gameplays but went viral for playing girly video games and screaming with pure rage and desperation if she loses or if her chat tells her the outfit she made was ugly asf😭

S★ she deadass will say “u guys clearly don’t know about fashion like i do” n then pull outfits like this:

S★ she used to be so fucking afraid that her face reveal went like dream’s that she posponed that shit for like a year. when she finally did it she ended the stream, turned off her phone and went to bed covering her body completely, while sniffing and crying “my career is over ”

S★ after her face revealed her account went even more viral, people started to make thirst traps of her and edits, videos, even fanfics, she got a little more comfortable with showing her face. her favorite edits were to songs like ride, baby by me, hey daddy (daddy’s home) and a song in spanish called vaquero, they were just so funny to her😭

iloveellie: she’s daddying so hard‼️

ewisinthechat: aw you guys really see me as a father figure?😺🫶

brondon444: 😭

kvcjjsaj: 😭

loverboydsa: 😭😭😭

“hey why is everyone crying in the chat, is everyone okay?”

S★ she really loves the cat emojis, specially this one 😻

S★ out of all her platforms (aside from twitch) she uses twitter the most, she tweets without a second thought in that head, without filter, like zero hesitation and then apologizes if she said something way too controversial.

ewisinthechat2: have you had that feeling when someone is so stupid you want to stab your eye with a fork? #kys

ewisinthechat2: k, i guess u have not😅…

S★ she was practically new to tiktok, so the first moths she had her likes public, she didn’t even know that was possible on the app. but if you click on it all you could see were shit post and memes that a dad would like, all except for a big section of aprox thirteen videos, one after the other, all with the same girl.

sckerforellie18: did u guys saw ellie’s likes? i think she’s stalking that poor girl😭

slaybabesew: HAHAH WAIT IS REAL, IS SHE HER GILFRIEND???

elliesaheymamasg: she’s so hot wait😩

heyemogirlbb: it’s her @girlypop66

S★ the chat started to tag you to every single one of her videos on tiktok, her photos on instagram, tagging you on things like “hi, could you please date my mom?🤗” or “my new mommie😻” EVEN in her questionable tweets telling you “we know she’s crazy but give her a chance😭”

S★ one day you waked up to your phone being practically broken from all the notifications, you still had your little pink iphone 6 and you had to buy another one because of it.

Instagram

girlypop: hi um i don’t think we really know each other but people are tagging me on your videos😭 love them though

S★ ellie was in a stream, the chat had to make her laugh and spit the water so she was reacting to videos that her chat had send her. when that notification appear on the screen, she read it, gulped the water, looked dead ass serious at the camera and turned off the stream.

elliewilliasm: omg hi, im so sorry i didn’t know, I’ll tell them to spot

elliewilliasm: spot*

elliewilliasm: STOP**😭

you laughed in your new phone, she was funny, and for what you had seen in all the posts that you were tagged on, very pretty too.

girlypop: hey would you like to grab coffee sometime?

ewisinthechat: TO EVERYBODY IN THE CHAT, THANK YOU, YOU GUYS ARE THE FUCKIN BEST, LOVE YALL, IM SO LUCKY TO HAVE YOU, XOXO😻😻😻😻

GIVEAWAY COMIN FUCKIN SOON💯💯‼️

S★ she was exhausted when she jumped to her bed, after all the crying, screaming, jumping and the extreme tweeting that just said “YESYESYESYESYESYESYESYESYESYES”, she unlocked her phone again.

elliewiliasm: yeah sure :)

REBLOG AND COMENT

IF YOU WANT TO BE IN THE TAG LIST

[stevie-petey]

track two: but youre such a tease

“Perfect,” he mouths at your ear, smile tickling the sensitive skin there. “Everything you do is perfect.” “Helps that I have a good teacher.” You shiver at the sensation, voice frailer than you’d like.  “In no time you’ll be replacing me in my own band.” The shell of your ear lands in his mouth and he bites down, hard enough to force a gasp out of you, but gentle enough to leave you leaning in for more.  You pull away slightly and shake your head. “No, I think I’ll stick to photography. Easier to remember where my hands go.” “As if I wouldn’t guide you through it.”

Summary: now officially the februarys concert photographer, you hit the road with them on tour. how bad can three months be stuck inside a small tour bus with steves needy hands and songs reserved only for you ?

Rating: general, some swearing, drinking, horny

Warnings: swearing, fem!reader, use of y/n, steve is a slut (endearing), mentions of alcohol, underaged drinking, a bit smutty and mature content ahead

Words: 16.2k

Before you swing in: HAPPY CRUX DAY !! sorry this took so long i was on spring break and also battling academic demons. im back now ! hooray ! and the crux is amazing fly makes me want to collapse and i honestly envision fly for this series as well. gap tooth smile too. fly fits more for chapter 3 :) take that as you will ! anyways, i was really brave and wrote my own lyrics for this chapter so pls be kind and enjoy !

-

With three divorces, a multi-million record label company, and hundreds of performance legends who all owe their careers to his ear for talent: Leonard Branham is a force of nature. 

He shoves papers into the band’s faces and starts rambling off legalities that you don’t even try to keep up with. All you catch, at the very tail end of one of his spiels, is that the Februarys can make only small, miniscule edits to their EP at the studio. Nothing else. Nothing new. Nothing unexpected. 

“If you even think about tainting the green in your music, I’m suing you all for defamation.” Leonard warns them with a wave of his cigarette. “Minor edits to the music only. Anything bigger than my second wife and I’ll shoot you.”

While it’s unlikely the short, stout man has an actual gun, no one in the Februarys is willing to run the risk. They nod at his every word. Steve even audibly gulps as he signs along the dotted lines. 

“You won’t regret this, Lenny.” You shake the man’s hand again. “No big changes. You have their word.”

Leonard’s mouth pinches in displeasure, but he doesn’t say anything. He takes his hand from yours and brings his cigarette to his mouth. It’s almost down to the filter, a nub more than anything else. 

“Whatever,” he drops the nicotine onto the carpet. Rubs it in with his polished leather shoes. “Just do as I say. Ring me when it’s done so I know when to start harassing small businesses into selling your music.”

Then Leonard Branham leaves just as quickly as he appeared. The scent of cigarette smoke is the only thing left in his wake. 

“Did that just happen?” Steve’s question floats through the room, not particularly aimed towards anyone. 

You flick his ear to break him from his awe struck spell. “Sure did. Now you have all the time in the world to make imperceptible edits to the EP so that our pal Lenny can wrack up some misdemeanor charges.”

Years from now, when someone asks you how exactly Leonard managed to get every record store in the country to display The Februarys on their shelves and every radio station to begin rolling out the lead single, Tease, you’ll tell the person exactly what you told Steve: misdemeanor charges. 

Three divorces, millions of dollars, a knack for discovering talent: Leonard Branham really is a fucking force of nature. 

A month later you’re pressed against the kitchen counter. Steve’s chest lines your back and his hands rest on your waist. Dustin’s hair tickles your face and Robin’s own hands fiddle with your fingers as the impatience gnaws at her.

Will and Lucas stand against the fridge. Max hangs off her boyfriend’s shoulder and Mike paces the room. El sits to the side with Nancy, who has spent the entire hour-long wait gripping Jonathan’s leg, forcing him to sit still. 

There’s food scattered throughout the apartment. Cold pizza and cans of beer and candy wrappers all on the floor. The air inside the walls is thick and warm and brimming with anticipation. 

The clock on the wall flicks to 11:59PM. 

“One more minute.” Steve’s fingers twitch, tightening around your body. His chest is tight and you can feel his erratic heartbeat. 

A small, dented radio sits on the kitchen counter. Some unimpressive, generic bluegrass song drones through its shitty speakers, and yet the device sucks everyone in. No one dares to look away from it. In less than a minute it’ll sing the beginning chords of Tease for all of New York to hear.

“Do you think they’ll announce who we are first–”

Nancy’s hand stifles Jonathan’s words. He makes muffled complaints, tries to speak through her clasped hand, but she’s firm in her silencing. 

“I’m doing this for your own good, honey.” She smiles sickly sweet at him. “If you’re talking while the song starts, Steve will kill you and Robin will bury the body.”

“And we’ll help.” MIke points to him and Max, smirking at Jonathan’s eye roll in begrudging acceptance that for the next thirty seconds, all there will be is silence.

The small hands inside your watch tick by, agonizingly slow and calculated. You can feel Steve’s eyes staring down at the wrist that his lips have grazed a million times before. Only for once he isn’t imagining kissing the skin but rather how his voice will sound through radio waves. 

“And that was Margarete Joel’s Fishing on a Wire.” The nasally voice of the radio presenter cuts through the thickening silence. The clock strikes midnight. The only movement in the kitchen is the pounding of hearts. “Next up we have the, uh. The Februarys? Huh. Happy February I guess.”

“Told you your band name is stupid.” Dustin grumbles, already dodging the punch that he knows Robin will lay on him. 

“Shut up!” She hisses at him, leaning even closer to the radio now.

The presenter clears his throat, excuses himself, before continuing. “My apologies, folks. Anyways, here’s the Februarys and their new song, Tease!” 

And even through the shitty and dented speakers that are five years past their prime, the beginnings of Steve’s acoustic chords intermixed with Mike’s electric strings sounds as beautiful as rain and thunder on a summer day. Soft melodies colliding with harsh grandeur. 

Everyone screams. Loud, unabashed, prideful and exhilarated and happy. 

Nancy jumps into Jonathan’s arms and Mike throws himself at El and Lucas and Will and Dustin jump around in a circle as Max and Robin scream into each other’s faces and Dustin is cheering and your body gets thrown over Steve’s shoulder in a dizzying rush and you only have seconds to grab your camera before he’s running around the apartment in a victory lap worthy of Greek chariot racers. 

“We’re on the radio!” Steve twists and turns throughout the apartment, hands securely on your legs, careful you don’t fall.

You’re giggling in his infectious glee, stomach warm and light with endless pride for a group of people you’ve only known for two months; it feels like you’ve known them all a lifetime. 

They’re the closest family you’ve ever had and the rush of your love for them vibrates your body. Steve flings you around and everyone is still screaming and you’re laughing so hard that it’s almost impossible to take the photos that you want. 

No one is quite in frame in any of the photos. Half of Robin’s smile in one image, parts of Max’s red hair, Jonathan’s scrunched face and Mike’s pink gums. The images end up blurry and overexposed. 

Still to this day they’re your favorite pictures that you’ve ever taken. 

“Mark my name into your skin,” Steve wails through the chorus, harmonizing with your uncontrolled laughter thrown over his shoulder. “Coax it inside your wrist.”

Jonathan’s fingers rap against the counter and he’s drumming along as Mike pretends to shred the guitar strings that project through the speakers. Robin’s head bounces to the beat and she’s pressing her own fingers into the countertop as if the entire world is her keyboard while Max simply sways to the music and imagines she’s playing her bass to Lucas.

An impromptu performance of the Februarys in your overheated kitchen. For one night only. Come one, come all. 

El cheers and dances along. Will and Dustin try to mimic Mike’s erratic movements. Lucas and Nancy watch their lovers as if the performance is real and the warm light above them are stage lights. 

As you’re trying to take a picture of Robin’s pink hair flying with every head thrust, you’re suddenly thrown onto the couch with Steve toppling right above you. The air knocks from your chest and he breathes his own into your skin. 

“Tease! Tease! Tease!” He accentuates each lyric with a kiss to your face. 

You choke his name out in between laughs and it only drives Steve forward. Sets his skin more on fire. 

“Mark your name into my skin,” he nips your collarbone playfully and you think you hear Robin’s teasing whistles. 

Everything is blinding. The lyrics, the heat of Steve’s skin. His lips. The Februarys’ eyes all on you, all on him, playing along to the performance. 

“Don’t know how to resist,” Then Steve’s skin is gone and he swings you off the couch, onto your feet, spinning you around and around and around, leaving you gasping for air. “Tease! Tease! Tease!”

On the last syllable your body stills. You’re face to face with the boy in front of you. His smile is wide, cheeks a wonderful rosie, and your heart feels so full that it threatens to burst sickly sweet grenadine. 

“Tease,” he whispers, as if now, finally, he’s become breathless as well. The music builds, Steve doesn’t look away. He doesn’t move, doesn’t loosen his hands from your tender flesh. Your chests brush together and you know that if you look up, if you give into the temptation, that the final notes of the song will haunt you forever. 

Then the radio cuts out. The song is over. The applause begins. Childish cheering and praise for the band from their most beloved audience. The Februarys’ own cheering for their song being on the radio. For doing it together as a band, as a family. 

The applause rips you back to reality. Reminds you that the performance is over. The show is done. Curtains are drawn, lights are about to go out.

Clearing your throat, you’re the one who steps away, out of his grasp, and yet it’s Steve who pulls you back in, presses a single, gentle kiss to the inside of your wrist. Coaxing his name into the skin just as he’s written into his lyrics. 

“Tease,” he says, song long over, before finally letting you go. 

It’s the closest you’ll ever get to an admission to the question that you’re too terrified to ask. 

– 

The EP does well. Better than anyone could’ve ever thought possible. Almost overnight copies of the tracks sell out. Record stores are met with a demand for more. More music from the Februarys, more EPs, more information about who the band even is. 

More, more, more. 

Leonard is so consumed with his financial glee that he sends a crate of liquor to the apartment with a note consisting only of, You beautiful bastards have made America love green again!

“What’s with this guy and thinking our music is green?” Robin hesitantly opens one of the liquor bottles, sniffs if, then recoils with a gag. “Holy fuck, is this what he drinks?”

“Rumor has it he killed his first wife with homemade liquor.” Mike pops open his own bottle and pours himself a glass, which Nancy promptly takes away from him. He shrugs, having expected this. “Figured I’d try.”

You frown. “Wait, the guy has a dead wife?”

“Made headlines a few years back. I’m surprised you didn’t see any of it.” Jonathan takes a cautious sip from Mike’s stolen glass. You watch his face turn red, then ghostly white, before he stumbles out of the kitchen and into the bathroom.

“Who the fuck did you guys sign with?” You ask in horror, the sounds of Jonathan’s retching floating through the walls. 

Robin closes the crate. She definitely isn’t making the same mistake as her bandmate. “A man who really likes green, apparently.”

Steve wanders into the living room, hair messy and shirt hanging off his shoulder. His blurry eyes take in the scene before him until they settle on the crate of liquor. He jolts awake at the sight and rushes over to Robin’s side.

“Holy shit,” he opens it up, whistling at how full it is. “You guys want any of this?”

“No.” Everyone in the kitchen says at the same time. 

Steve blinks at the odd response. “Did I miss something?”

“No,” you hand him the glass that nearly killed Jonathan. “Here, try some. It’s really good.”

Robin’s mouth twitches and you have to bite your own lips to keep from smiling. Nancy and Mike are quiet, watching, as Steve, bless him, trusts you blindly. 

He takes one sip. Drops the glass. Soon his retching join’s Jonathan’s.

It takes three hours before Steve is willing to talk to you again. 

–

The Februarys gain a large audience faster than they can keep up with after the unexpected success of their EP. Their weekly performances at their regular venues become sold out every night. Crowds scream their name, more than ever before. Flashing lights and stuffy concert halls and crowds that would do anything for them.

Steve feeds into it. As if he was born for it.

In a way, you suppose he was.

His usual array of girls he sleeps with grows almost as quickly as his success does. Dustin says there’s a correlation there. A positive one. He’d do an equation on it if it wasn’t so goddamn obvious in the first place. 

“That’s the fifth girl tonight.” Robin’s untrusting eyes never leave the girl who sits in Steve’s lap. She’s painted azure and shimmering under the dressing room’s dim lighting. The four other girls cram to be as close as possible to him, each painted their own bright colors. “His room is barely bigger than mine. Where the hell is he going to fit them all?”

You hand Robin a cloth to wipe her makeup off. The rush of the show is just beginning to exit your bloodstream. Tonight had been a good gig, a great one even, given the fact that there are currently five girls pawing at Steve’s chest. He’s still sweaty from the performance but he doesn’t bother trying to wipe the grime away. It must add to the rockstar facade that he knows the girls are here for. 

“I really don’t want to think about that. We share a fucking wall.”

“Sorry, babe.” Robin scrubs her lipstick off. “If you get too traumatized, just come to my room. I promise I won’t keep you up too late.”

You snort at her overly flirtatious wink. “The day I fall into your bed is the day I fall into Steve’s.”

“So I’ll see you next week?”

“Oh, definitely.” Sarcasm stabs your voice. “Be next in line for all the girls he sleeps with. What a dream.” 

Robin smears at her eyes, clumps of mascara falling out at the harshness. She looks back in the mirror and finds Steve again. His lips are wrapped around a bottle. She isn’t sure where it came from or how many he’s had since the stage lights have gone out. You watch as her disapproving frown slowly melts into concern. Uncertainty. Worry.

“You don’t…” she hesitates, swallowing back a growing wave of cold concern. “You don’t think it’s anything to worry about, right? I mean. The girls. It’s… there’s been a lot. Even for Steve’s standards.”

The girl’s worry for her friend makes you swallow back your own uncertainty. Robin looks at you through the mirror and her blue eyes look so small without their stage makeup. Fresh faced, pale pink streaks through blond hair you’ve run your fingers through during late nights together talking about art and music. 

“I’m sure he’s fine, Robin.” You pinch her cheek, reddening the skin to elicit the squeaky laughter you’ve come to adore. “An EP, insane manager, and adoring fans is basically Steve’s wet dream.”

Only Robin doesn’t look convinced. You sigh, tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “You guys are finally getting to live out your dreams,” she smiles at the small reminder and you kiss the crest of her cheekbone. “And Steve is enjoying every second of it. You should be enjoying every second of it.”

“I guess you’re right.” 

You pretend her smile is more genuine and assured than it really is and tangle your fingers through her hair once again. Robin’s eyes close at the touch, practically melts, and you end up braiding the strands as a way to distract her. 

As you braid Robin’s hair, the conversation loops over and over in your head. A lot has changed in the last few weeks, faster than you’re willing to admit. The crowds are bigger and the venues are flashier and people have even started recognizing you whenever your camera is in your hands. It’s a whirlwind, fast and loud, and Steve is right there in the crosswinds with you.

More girls, more substances, yet the moles on his face still pinch together when he smiles. He still crawls into your bed most nights to play guitar and sit quietly developing film. You’re both still doing what you love, performances and photographs. 

Steve still calls you angelface. That’s as good of an indication as any that things are still the same, though maybe shinier, superficial, but the image itself is still intact. 

–

A few weeks after the release of The Februarys, Robin demands that you and the others celebrate its release without the labor of smuggling underaged adolescents into a bar. 

“We need to get shitfaced and not worry about possibly traumatizing the children we choose to live with for some classified reason.”

No one argues with her. Since moving in with them, you haven’t spent a night out with only Steve and the other legal-aged adults. Somehow Mike or Max or Dustin or anyone else in their group manages to tag along, and while you’ve come to adore them, you’re growing paranoid that you’ve somehow wound up on a watchlist somewhere for how many venues you’ve broken into these last few months. 

That, and Lucas got lost in one of the prohibition tunnels last week and Nancy had to form a small search party. 

The club Robin ends up dragging everyone to is called Webster Hall. You’ve never been, but Steve promises you a round of drinks and you’ve never said no to free liquor before. On the outskirts of the East Village and almost always surrounded by NYU students looking for easy hits, the club’s famous nightlife and live performances quickly pulls you under its tide when you stumble in.

“Holy fuck,” you gasp out, feeling your eyes widen at the overwhelming sights and sounds. On the stage performs a band you’re vaguely familiar with, recognizing their lead vocalist from gigs with the Februarys. Lights flash fluorescent red above you and the band’s vocalist screams a grand crescendo as the floor goes wild. 

“Pretty intense, right?” Steve has to scream in your ear in order to be heard, though he doesn’t waste the opportunity to grab your waist and pull your chest to his. “Don’t worry angelface, you’re all mine tonight.”

And you are. 

You feel safe in Steve’s embrace. He holds onto you just tight enough to remind you that he’ll go wherever you go, without any hesitation, and he’s just as much as yours are you are his. 

Steve buys everyone round after round of drinks. He never strays far from you, he doesn’t allow his hand to leave your waist the entire night. The cold metal of his ring cools your flushed skin and the graze of his bracelets send pleasant stings to your flesh. 

Sometime after the third round of drinks you lose Jonathan and Nancy in the crowd. He’d been wanting to get closer to the stage and she’d been wanting to get closer to him. 

The fifth round you’re dancing with Robin and the press of Steve’s rings still dimples in your skin. She spins you around and around and the music soaks your body alongside the alcohol and Steve’s smile looks like liquid sex in the red lighting. 

The sixth round Robin is gone and Steve’s hands are everywhere. His fingers slip between the straps of your lace bra, dig into your ribcage at the skin just at the crest of your breast. His hands slide up your stomach and pull up the thin sheer shirt that hardly covers an inch of skin. 

“Someone’s touchy tonight,” your voice shakes slightly, your neck is exposed and you gasp when Steve’s lips maul it. He doesn’t hesitate. He doesn’t consider that he’s never done this before, that he’s never kissed you quite like this. “Fuck.”

“Can you blame me?” Teeth bruise your veins, he pulls you even closer hearing your pretty sighs. He cups the lace of your bra and fingers the fabric that’s been begging him all night. “Wearin’ something like this and expecting me not to want to touch.”

His whispered praise sets your skin on fire and you know you shouldn't be doing this, but the film of alcohol that soaks through your bloodstream weakens what little denial that remains in your body. The thin lines that trace through Steve’s freckles into your pulse snap with every kiss he lays against your skin. 

The seventh round of drinks and you find your spine digging into a wall, shoved into a dark corner with Steve’s teeth marring your neck. Normally so gentle and soft with you, his desperate mouth greedily bites any inch of skin it can reach and you’re weak and wanting. Putty in his hands, all you can do is cling to Steve’s shirt as his knee shoves itself between your legs.

“That’s it,” he says when your body collapses into the hardness of his knee. The deepness of his voice makes you bite back yet another moan. “That’s my girl.”

Then Steve’s fingers pinch the hardened nipples that press against your bra and any resolve you once had is gone. You’re his girl. His angelface. 

“Excuse me!”

Steve’s lips are pried away from your collarbone and the cold air that replaces his lips stings. You open your eyes, unsure when you even closed them in the first place, and see a girl shoving her way between you. She’s shorter than you, her eyes darkened by streaks of black eyeshadow and liner, and the tinsel in her hair creates a cascading illuminance that leaves you wondering if she’s truly real. 

“What the fuck?” Only Steve’s affronted reaction tells you that she’s very much real and that he’s very much pissed off by her interruption. 

“I’m sorry,” the girl has to stand on the tips of her toes in order for her shouting to be heard by Steve. She’s completely standing in front of you now, uncaring of the fact that your thighs were only moments ago encased with his. She shows no remorse, instead clawing at his shirt to get his attention. “But are you Steve Harrington?”

Steve steps closer to you, tilting his head at the girl with curiosity and apprehension. “Yeah, why?”

“I love the Februarys!” The girl squeals and throws herself at him, too lost in her ecstasy to realize that Steve has gone entirely still. “Can I get an autograph?”

“I…” Steve’s mouth opens and closes as stares at her, unmoving. His chest doesn’t rise with breaths as the seconds pass and you watch as the disbelief on his face melts into surprise before warming into a smile. 

Outside of performances, no one has ever recognized Steve enough to ask for an autograph. Now here he is, at a club surrounded by rock and jazz and music that makes his heartbeat spike and a pretty girl knows who he is and loves his music. He told you once that he was going to be a rockstar. Now he’s starting to believe that it’ll actually happen.

The girl smiles sweetly up at Steve. “Well?” She nudges her head closer to his chin and the droop of her lined eyes warn you of what’s about to happen.

You see it in the creases of his smile first. The lines mold together to fuse Steve’s lips into the cocky, self-assured smile he reserves only for performances. Then you see it in the way his warm eyes darken to a bitter dusk as he looks the girl up and down, lingering on the cleavage she presents to him. 

Steve’s hand falls from your waist before landing on the girl who has taken your place and you know he’s found himself someone else to call his girl for the night. 

“Anything specific you’d like me to sign?” Unashamed, his eyes drop down to her exposed chest and your throat tightens at the idea of staying in the humiliation any longer. 

“I’m gonna go find Robin,” you grab at Steve, forcing him to finally remember your presence. His eyes are unfocused, he isn’t really looking at you but rather at his newfound attraction and you want to wipe that stupid fucking smirk off his face. Angry that you’re even upset in the first place, you spit out, “Don’t wait up.”

And then you’re gone, shoving through the crowd of people who seem to have someone to dance with and call their own. Behind you, despite the obscenity that is the volume of music in the small area, you still somehow manage to hear Steve’s fucking breathy laughter as you leave.

The sound only burns the open wound of the hurt you know you have no right to feel. Steve isn’t yours, even if for a few drunken moments the two of you allowed the lines to blur into something more. 

That’s all it had been. A few drunken moments. Nothing else. 

But the heat on your neck, leftover remnants of Steve’s pink lips, won’t leave. The heat grows warmer and warmer until your skin blisters at the sensation. You blindly stumble towards the bar with hot tears in your eyes before colliding into someone new.

He’s tall and handsome with red hair that’s shorter than Steve’s and he kisses your neck with more fervor than desperation and he’s everything you’re aching to forget. His hands are softer than Steve’s calloused ones from years of playing an instrument and he sucks the alcohol regret from your lips yet you don’t bother to ask for his name.

You’re shoved against the bar and the hard surface digs aggressively into your back, but the guy bites back your pained sounds with overly eager flicks of his tongue and your eyes close at the sensation. 

He says something into the skin of your neck, but it’s impossible to hear him over the alcohol and music and sex that lingers in the air. His lips drag over your jugular, forcing your head to fall back, but as your eyes squeeze shut once again, you feel a familiar burn on your skin.

You’re being watched.

Steve’s eyes reflect the pleasure that must paint your own face. He’s watching you, eyes dark with the girl he left you for wrapped around him. She hangs off his neck, pressing messy kisses to the smooth skin that you’ve traced your fingers against, but Steve’s eyes remain only on you.

His gaze creates a burn in your core that licks at the heat already there from someone else’s lips. 

You bite your lip, suppressing a moan at the idea of Steve watching you writhe in pleasure. The guy beneath you mistakenly assumes the moan is meant for him and he nips even harder at your neck. There will be a bruise tomorrow from his teeth and you know that Steve will pretend that he was the one who left the mark.

Spinning on that dizzy edge. Kissed her face and kissed her head. 

Muffled singing breaks through the sound barrier between you and Steve. He never takes his eyes off of you and you can’t bear to take yours off of him. His chest heaves a moan that you’re aching to hear, to elicit yourself, to swallow, but he’s across the room wrapped around someone else and all you can do is pant against a stranger’s mouth as you watch Steve’s tongue dance in a mouth that isn’t yours.

Dreamed of all the different ways I had to make her glow.

You imagine that it’s Steve who grinds into you. That it’s him biting your collarbones and marking you as his. That it’s his voice that whispers aching words to you, telling you how beautiful you are, how he’s been waiting for you all night. 

“Why are you so far away?”, she said, “Why won’t you ever know that I’m in love with you?” 

Steve watches you get off with another guy, throat tightening with every moan you know he wishes he could hear, and you watch him, dripping and craving for your own release, as a girl who isn’t you gets him off. 

“That I’m in love with you?”

– 

Lines of people overflow out the venue’s doors a month later. Security refuses to let you and Nancy inside. 

“Packed house,” the gruff man blocks the door. “No one else is allowed in.”

Nancy scoffs at him, holding up the small backstage pass that Steve had given you before the show. Your names are written on them and the silver lettering flashes in the security guard’s face. 

“I’m sorry,” she shows him the pass yet again. “But we’re supposed to be at the front with the band. I’m not sure what else you need from us.”

The man shrugs, indifferent. “Not up to me. It’s the law, miss. Fire codes.”

You pick at your camera’s strap and feel impatience gnaw at your skin. The show starts any minute and you’re not even close to the barricade. Inside the venue you can hear the crowd growing louder and louder as the anticipation eats away at them. You should be in there right now, capturing the moment with your lens to encase forever in an image. 

“C’mon,” your voice draws out in a whine that you aren’t necessarily proud of, but you’re desperate. You’ve never missed a show and you refuse to start now. You shove your camera in the guard’s face, “I’m the band’s photographer, and if you don’t let us in, I quite literally will lose a paycheck tonight.”

“Not my problem.”

“But–”

“Why are you ladies outside?” Leonard shoves the backdoor open, surprising both you and Nancy and the security guard as well. His eyes are hidden by the sunglasses he refuses to take off, even in the dead of night, and his frown takes in the scene before him. “Well? What the hell is going on out here?”

The security guard is the first to recover. “Sir, I can’t let them inside. The law is the law.”

“Says who?” Leonard licks the greedy smile on his face. “The law is whatever I fucking say it is. Let them inside.”

“New York’s fire code clearly states that–”

Leonard slams his hand down on the door, his rings creating an echo like a gunshot. “I don’t care! I’ll pay the damn fire marshall myself, he owes me a favor anyways.” Steve’s voice trails through the venue’s walls and Leonard shoves a fat finger towards the sound. “But you hear that? That’s the sound of you wasting my fucking money that trickles down to her,” he points at you now. “Let them in. Now.”

The veins in the security guard’s neck strain, but even he knows that it’s no use arguing with a man like Leonard. Squaring his shoulders, he steps aside and gestures for you and Nancy to walk through. 

“Enjoy the show,” he says through gritted teeth. 

You and Nancy quickly step inside, weary of the aggression brewing between the two men. The backdoor slams behind you and Leonard claps his hands in amusement once you’re inside. “Well, that was fun.”

“Thank you, Mr. Branham.” Nancy says, ducking her head to avoid his eyes. 

“Thank my wallet by getting your asses out on that stage floor.”

Not needing to be told twice, you’re sprinting through the endless hallways behind the stage. Steve’s on the third song of the night and you’re not wasting another damn second away from him and the music. 

Bursting through the stage-side entrance, you shove past the drunken audience and jump over the fence barricade, right into the small strip of security meant only for you and Nancy. Front and center, Steve finds you and smiles, settling your uneven heartbeat. 

Nancy accompanies you eventually, but you’re too lost in the performance to notice. The crowd is electric tonight and Robin’s excited giggles get caught in the mic and you’re in love with the life that has fallen into your hands. 

After the show you meet up with the band backstage like normal. They greet you and Nancy with eager conversation to relive each second of the gig—a tradition now that you both adore. Mike talks Nancy’s ear off and Steve’s gripping your waist the second he sees you. 

“You were late tonight, angelface,” he pouts into your hairline, kissing it to tell you that he isn’t upset, more worried that something may have happened. “I missed you.”

You stroke his cheek to erase the frown that makes his delicate features even more devastating. “Sorry, rosie. Had some problems with security.”

“Even with the passes?” Robin jabs at the lanyard around your neck. “What’s the point of these things, then?”

“They can only do so much against overcrowding of adoring fans.” Nancy tells her. “You guys are threatening fire codes, now.”

“Are we still bitching about the law?” Leonard’s cigarette smoke enters the room before he does. 

Steve’s posture straightens the moment he sees him. “Mr. Branham, sir, what are you doing here?”

“What, I can’t check up on my investment?”

Max glares at him. “We have a name, you know.”

“I know, little red. Ease up,” Leonard takes a drag and blows the smoke up at the ceiling. “Anyways, fire codes are such a fucking waste of money. Back in my day, fires were admirable.”

Jonathan clears his throat, uncomfortable with the man’s presence. “Sir, with all due respect, we would prefer not to be a fire hazard.”

“Boring.”

“I… I’m sorry?”

Leonard sighs. “No, I suppose it’s my fault. I’m old and slow now, should’ve booked you guys a tour sooner.”

Lightning silence strikes the room. It happens quickly, violently, leaving only bodies stunned in perpetual stillness. 

“Did you…” Robin gulps at the air, her pale skin nearly translucent. “Did you just say ‘tour’?”

“Of course I did.” Leonard seems to realize that he’s left everyone paralyzed and looks around. “What? Did you guys think you’d just drop an EP and call it a day?”

“No!” Steve’s quick to step in, not wanting the man to think they never considered the possibility, that they aren’t ready for the possibility. “No, it’s just… This is all happening so fast, sir.”

“And?”

“It’s been a month, Lenny.” You’re less polite. “They can’t just pack up and abandon their old lives that quickly.”

Behind Leonard’s sunglasses you can feel his unhappy gaze burning your skin. Everyone else in the room holds their breath, not wanting to agree with you too quickly, but not also not wanting to say that you’re wrong, either.

It all feels like too much too soon. They only barely have gotten used to the attention brought by their EP. They interact with fans. They perform shows as if they’ve been doing so for years. They work themselves to the bone to please the demand that they’ve always dreamed of.

But their ears still ring after every show. Some nights the strain of the lights pound a migraine into Robin’s skull. Mike and Max struggle to keep up with their assignments on top of lyrics and notes and chords. Jonathan’s bruised fingers prevent him from using his hand most days. Steve’s chapped lips drip blood down his chin. 

The Februarys are still adjusting to the life they’ve been pistol whipped into, smiling at the bruises and marks, but a tour was never something on their mind. 

“But they will.” Leonard eventually says. “They’ll do anything for their tour.”

Touring would mean Mike and Max dropping out of college entirely. It’d mean leaving Dustin alone in an apartment at only eighteen after swearing to his mother that they’d take care of him. It’d mean Nancy and Jonathan committing to the distance, separating from one another because she won’t be able to follow with a job in New York. More girls, more attention, and more alcohol accessible to Steve’s already deluged lifestyle. Longer days and nights for Robin’s already exhausted body. Trusting that your own career will be safe in the hands of a band that’s still learning, stumbling alongside you.

A tour would mean change. A lot of change. Rapid and staccato and unforgiving if they’re not careful. 

But Steve looks around at his bandmates. He studies their faces, having memorized the hidden crevices of their emotions etched onto them when he was only a teenager with dreams that they all shared. They’re looking at him, too. They all know what their answer will be.

“We will.” Steve finally responds. His usual boyish glee is somber. When he swallows, it’s almost as if he swallows down the naivety. “We’ll do it.”

Leonard smiles. He knew what their response would be.

“Then I guess I’ll start making some calls.”

– 

Later that night Robin lays in your bed, inhabiting the space normally reserved for Steve, only he’s in the room next door with a thudding headboard and drunk feminine giggles. 

You have one of your old records playing in a vain attempt to drown out the noise. Robin offered to go to her room, but you have film that you need to develop and you’ve rigged the lighting in your space to best suit its chemicals and Robin doesn’t want to leave you alone. 

A harsh slam against your wall shakes your desk and the developer mix for the film almost spills. “Shit!”

“Do you think that’ll follow us on tour?” Robin scrunches her face, watching as you manage to salvage the mixture and spare your desk its harsh chemicals. “Because I really fucking hope not.”

“Steve will be in a new city practically every night. Of course it’ll follow you on tour.”

Something about your response upsets Robin. She bites her lip and closes her eyes, as if trying to wash away whatever it is that causes her displeasure. 

“Talk to me, Rob.” You abandon the film and lean over the girl. “I’m here.”

“His drinking is getting worse,” she whispers, ashamed of the words that build in her throat for release. “And the girls don’t fucking help.”

You suck in a breath. “We talked about this, Robin. Steve’s just enjoying himself.”

“And what happens when we go on tour? What, do we just allow him to overindulge and hope he doesn’t hurt himself? He’s fucking drunk on fame already. He doesn’t need more.”

“He’ll be fine,” you promise her, though you both hear the apprehension in your words. “I mean, he’s Steve. He can handle a little more.”

“Okay, fine, Steve can handle it,” Robin sits up, shoves her face into yours, “but can you?”

You flinch away. “I-what?”

Robin stares at you, long and hard, the clench in her jaw only releasing when she finally decides on what to say. “We’ll be locked inside a tour bus for weeks on end. Nowhere to go to escape Steve’s descent into biblical lust and gluttony that you inevitably feed into whenever you fucking smile at him.”

She sees right through you. “Will you be able to handle it?”

Your throat tightens. “That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it? Because the way I see it, the two of you have been dancing around each other the moment Steve set his carnivore eyes on you. Which is fine! I want you guys to be happy together! But Steve’s going through girls faster than I can count and he’s drinking more and you’re hiding in my room most nights pretending it doesn’t have any effect on you.”

The words come spilling out of Robin’s mouth in a rapid succession that makes you wonder just how long she’s kept it all in for. How long she’s seen through the lines and boundaries that you thought were only visible to you and Steve. 

“Y/N, what I’m trying to say is that I’m scared this tour will drown you,” Robin’s soft hands wrap around yours. “I’m worried about Steve, I always am, but I’m also worried about you.”

“And I’m telling you not to worry about me,” your interlocked fingers twist together, but Robin doesn’t let you pull away. “I promise I’ll be fine. Steve and I…” there are no words to describe the gummy tenderness that coats your relationship with the man.

“I refuse to be a hookup, okay?” You find Robin’s eyes and hold her gaze. This is the only thing you’re sure of when it comes to Steve. He may leave your mouth craving his. The dizzying heat that accompanies his lips may leave you wanting. But you know, above all else, that the heat cannot ignite the wick that he’s soaked through with his fingers. 

There will not be a match for the flames. 

“I won’t be another girl that Steve sleeps with.” 

“That’s what scares me,” Robin’s sad smile extinguishes any fight you have left. She tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, her touch lingers on your cheek. “How stubborn you are and how lonely Steve is.”

Sobering words for addicted thoughts. 

One day you’ll look back and wonder when Steve’s loneliness stifled the stubbornness.  

The rest of the month passes in its usual haze, only now between performances and rehearsals, any remaining free time is spent making phone calls and storing items into boxes. With Leonard’s terrifying connections, he manages to plan an entire tour within a few weeks. It takes Steve’s begging and Max’s threats to get him to agree to allowing the band a month of breathing room before the first city. 

Nancy is left to call her parents to inform them of Mike’s decision to drop out of college. Steve calls for Max while you and Robin are tasked with breaking the news to Dustin’s mom about your three month absence. 

None of the parents are happy at the start of the phone call, but with some convincing, they slowly accept that this is something inevitable. 

“I can’t believe you’re abandoning me.” Dustin throws a stack of Robin’s keyboard cables into an empty box. 

Steve flicks the kid’s hat. “We’re coming back, doofus.”

“Yeah, in three months.”

“As if you aren’t excited to finally get rid of us,” Robin snorts. She hands him some of her extra sheet music, “can you toss these in my rehearsal bag?”

Dustin rolls his eyes but takes the papers from her and puts them where she’s asked. He sits in the center of Robin’s now neat and empty room and lets out a low whistle. “This is depressing. I never thought I’d miss your mess.”

You knock your shoulder against his, hoping to lessen the sting of seeing his friends getting ready to leave him. “I’m sure Lucas will find a way to wreck the room.”

Dustin’s mom, Claudia, had only agreed to you leaving as long as Lucas moved into the vacant apartment. Seeing as how the kid lives in shitty student housing, he’d been quick to accept the offer. He moves into Robin’s room the day you leave for tour, so Dustin won’t be on his own for too long. 

“If my room smells like sweaty basketball shoes when I get back, I’m telling Max that it was Lucas who broke her last bass.” Robin threatens, pointing a guitar pick at Dustin. “You got that?”

“Why are you threatening me?”

“To deliver my message, oh small one.”

Dustin grimaces at the nickname and you chuckle, leaning against the kid. “Won’t you miss us, Dusty?”

“Please get evicted sooner.”

Everyone laughs and the once cold room warms at the noise. No one says it, but you’ll miss living together, just the four of you, across the hall from one another with the outside world forgotten. 

The night before it’s time to leave, Dustin and Nancy rope the others into throwing the Februarys a surprise going away party. 

Lucas is in charge of decorations, placing messy blue and purple streamers throughout the apartment. A misshapen, crooked inflatable disco ball hangs from the ceiling and spins at a comedically slow pace. El bakes cookies shaped like italicized F’s and Will helps her with the icing. 

Nancy supplies the alcohol and Dustin is tasked with distracting you and the band members for the three hours it takes them to set up. 

“I still don’t understand why we had to help you deliver soldering tools in the goddamn rain.” Steve flings the front door open, but in his struggle to undo his umbrella, he doesn’t notice the apartment’s decorated state.

Max follows right behind him, shaking her wet hair out. “I don’t understand why we had to all go.”

“Maurice needed my help.” Dustin herds the rest of the band inside, shielding them from seeing anything else.

Mike scoffs. “Who the hell names their kid Maurice? That’s such a stupid name,” he walks inside, brushing past Dustin and falls against the couch, rests his head back, and then says, “why is there a disco ball in your apartment?”

Robin looks up. “What disco–”

“Surprise!” Nancy and the others come out from their hiding spots. You think they say more, but Steve’s startled scream drowns it out.

Jonathan sweeps Nancy into his arms, laughing despite his drenched state. “What’s all this?”

“Did you think we’d let you guys go without one last party?” Lucas shoves party hats on everyone’s head. He places a particularly pink one on Max and winks, blowing her a kiss when she blushes.

The wire of your cone hat snaps around your chin and you smile at the sting. You look around the apartment in disbelief and love. “You guys really did all this?”

“I baked cookies.” El nods, proud, and Mike kisses her head fondly.

Will licks sugar off his fingers. “I iced them.”

“I’m guessing you were in charge of distracting us?” Steve narrows his eyes at Dustin, shivering in his damp shirt. He had you hiking through Manhattan during a literal storm. 

“Yup!” 

You hold Steve back from rounding off on the kid, sliding your hands around his waist and trapping him in your embrace. Plucking a hat from Lucas, you push it into Steve’s mess of hair and kiss his cheek. “Care for a dance?”

Steve spins you before you can even finish the question.

The night is spent licking icing off of sugary cookies and chasing it with whatever liquor concoction Robin comes up with. Music blasts from the radio and the boxes that litter the floor go ignored. No one wants to acknowledge that come tomorrow, you’ll be separated from one another. 

For now, you sing along with El and challenge Will to a drunken drawing contest and show Dustin how to work the aperture on your camera and capture Lucas’ wide grin as Max kisses his shoulder and Nancy shares the last of the cookies with you. 

Laughter and reminiscent joy. That’s how the last night is spent in the apartment.

– 

According to Leonard, he chooses fifteen cities and twenty performances for the Februarys’ first tour because it’s “enough to please the demand but not enough to jeopardize the divorce settlement in case it tanks”. 

He’s strategic in his planning. Each venue is big enough for an excited crowd but small enough to guarantee a sold out house. The cities selected have younger demographics and populated tourist attractions to ensure a draw in. 

Leonard Branham spares no expense for the Februarys’ first ever tour.

Except for the tour bus itself. 

“It’s… definitely travel sized.” You stare at the vehicle before you, wincing at its compact size. While you hadn’t been expecting a grand vehicle, you had at least thought there’d be room to breathe.

Robin drops her head in her hands. “We’re gonna kill each other.”

You want to argue with her, but when Steve excitedly ushers everyone inside to tour the bus, you see that there’s even less room inside. A line of bunk beds on both sides, six total, with a kitchenette smushed to the side accompanied by a pathetic pull out couch and a fridge so small it can only hold five items. 

While everyone stands to the side and wonders how the hell you’ll survive the close proximity for three straight months, Steve is bouncing off the walls.

“This is insane!” He strokes the mini-fridge as if it’s some mythical creature.

“This feels like sleepaway camp,” Max sniffs at one of the bunk beds in disdain, gagging. “Holy shit, it smells like sleepaway camp.”

“I call top bunk!” Mike jumps onto the nearest bed he finds and lands with a thud so terrifying you fear for a moment that he’s broken the bus entirely. The landing knocks all the air out of his body and he rolls to the side, wheezing. “Fuck that hurt.”

“Careful!” You run over to the boy, who’s about to roll completely off the small twin sized mattress. “Dude, you’re way too tall for that lanky body of yours.”

“Hurts,” he slaps you away, clutching at his back. “God, I’m gonna die.”

“Guess I’m with him, then.” Jonathan steps between you and places his things on the bed beneath Mike’s. “Nancy gives me one job and five minutes in her brother already gets hurt.”

Robin throws her things onto the top bunk on the other wall, head narrowly avoiding hitting the low ceiling. “I call Max for my bunkmate!”

Max shrugs at this, setting her bag down at the bunk beneath the girl’s. “As long as I’m not with Mike, I don’t care where I sleep.”

You cross your arms, hurt that Robin chose Max over you. “Well, what about me?”

“You’re bunking with me, angelface,” Steve drags you to the end of the bus, already all over you. “I called dibs on you the second I found out we were getting a tour bus.”

“It’s true.” Robin pokes her head out from her bunk. “Fucker ran into my room at like three in the morning to announce it and everything. He wouldn’t stop talking. It was really annoying.”

Your face burns at the idea of Steve being so excited to share a bunk with you that he woke his best friend up in the middle of the night to tell her.

“What can I say? I know what I want.” Steve throws you onto the bottom bed and crawls on top of you, collapsing once he’s situated himself. He curls around your body and sighs happily. “I can get used to this.”

“You do realize there’s an entire top bunk that I can sleep in, right?”

“We both know you’ll be crawling into my bed every night.” You pinch his side and Steve squirms away, laughing, but he doesn’t leave. Not entirely. Instead he sits up, looks down at you with soft eyes, and brushes the pad of his thumb against your jaw. “I promise I’ll be the best bunkmate. I’ll even let you have all the blankets.”

A large part of you knows that you should tell Steve no. You should grab your bag and place it on the empty bed above you because in the small space you can feel all of Steve against you. This will only create yet another blurred line between you, but his body is warm and the weight of it kisses your ribcage. 

Will you be able to handle it?

Robin’s words taunt you. 

For months now Steve has been driving you insane. His lips against your neck still paint your veins. How hot he felt beneath you that night at the club and the way his eyes darkened when you moaned someone else’s name. How the next morning he greeted you with soft humming and gentle touches that left you reeling. 

Now Steve’s chest lays against yours and the bridge of his nose skims the base of your neck. The metal of his nose ring soothes the blistering flesh. There is no room for you to escape to. No walkman to drown out the screaming of your desire. 

“Tell me about the first city we’re going to.” You poke Steve’s cheek to get his attention away from your sensitive neck. It’s all you can do to keep from melting into him. 

Luckily Steve takes the bait and unwinds his body from yours, exhilarated to talk about what he loves the most, music, and you want to revel in his love for it as well to escape the other love that lingers in your bones. 

And as Steve’s eyes light up as he describes the setlist and venues and chord sequences you wonder how you’ll ever make it out alive.

Fifteen cities. Three months. A short amount of time to bite your teeth and bear the weight of this excess within you and Steve’s ever delicate skin; but It’s only fifteen cities. You’ll be fine. 

A lot can happen in fifteen cities.

– 

It takes a total of twelve hours before you’re considering jumping out the moving vehicle.

The first night on the bus is fine. Jonathan and Mike pass out before you’ve even left the state of New York while Max reads some comics in her bed. Steve has his head in your lap, not once letting go of you since the bus’ engine roared to life, and Robin crawls into the spare bed and challenges the two of you to a game of poker. 

She throws the deck of cards in front of you and you don’t miss the way her eyebrows furrow when she sees Steve’s hands wrapped around your thighs. 

“Extra touchy.” She whispers into your ear the minute Steve is distracted with his cards. 

“It’s only for tonight,” you whisper back, scared that you’ll be overheard. “Just play your king already.”

Robin gives you a tight lipped smile, calling your bluff in more ways than one, and plays the cards in her hand. 

Only Steve’s enamored affection with you doesn’t lessen the next day. If anything, he only gets worse. 

He wakes you up with frenzied kisses and tickles your sides to brighten his early day. He follows you into the small bathroom, hangs off your side as you brew some coffee with the shitty machine left in the bus. If you sit on the pullout couch, he sits on top of you. If you want to lay in bed to rest your eyes, he’s already wrapping you into his chest. 

It’s as if living with you hasn’t been enough for Steve. Now, with less square feet than a hotel bathroom, he’s inhaling all of you at a pace that threatens to choke you. 

By hour twenty, you’re hunched over a map desperately trying to find any goddamn roadside attraction to escape to. You need fresh air that isn’t exhaled from Steve’s sugar-sweet lips. 

“Why don’t we stop by the Delaware Water Gap area?” You’ve spread the map out on the small, tilted table for the rest of the band to look at. After hours of driving, everyone is anxious to get off the crammed bus as well. “It’s only a fifteen minute detour. Can’t hurt to take a look.”

“Is it a park?” Max squints at the paper.

You nod. “It’s big enough for us all to spread out. Honestly, for the next three months, I think it’ll be best if we try and stop at whatever parks or attractions we pass. Stretch our legs, ignore one another for a blissful thirty minutes.”

“Count me in,” Robin twists her neck, cracking it obscenely. “I feel like I’ve aged fifty years since leaving New York.”

“Parks are nice.” Jonathan agrees, nodding.

“I’m gonna piss in every place we stop at.”

Steve flick Mike’s head. “Shut up and go tell the bus driver to stop at Delaware Gap.”

By the time you get to the park, the midday sun peeks out from behind the mountains. The early May weather casts a dewy glow around the greenery. The trees stand tall and vibrant and the scent of wildflowers satiate the yearning in your chest for something tender. 

“Not bad, Y/N. This place is fucking magical.” Robin pats your back, then turns to Max. “Care to frolic in some fields with me?”

The younger girl purses her lips, uncertain, but before she can say anything Robin is already grabbing her hand to chase her though the vast hills and landscapes.

“Don’t go too far! We’re leaving in thirty minutes!” Steve calls after them.

Robin’s quip is fast. “Whatever you say, dad!”

You laugh at the remark and Steve can only shake his head, hiding his own amusement. He grabs your hand and tugs you towards an open field. “C’mon, let’s go before Mike pisses everywhere.”

Mike sticks his middle finger up, which Jonathan promptly shoves down. “Please don’t make me call Nancy.”

“You’re such an annoying snitch.”

Their arguing fades in the distance the further Steve takes you. The field itself is empty despite the beautiful weather. Clouded skies with a hint of sunlight to warm your cold skin and the melodic buzz of bumblebees lazily flying past. Towards the edge of the green-laid field is a riverbank of lazuli water that bubbles and splashes and Steve finds a rock for the two of you to listen to its harmony. 

You sit and listen to the water rushing past for a while together, enjoying the serenity of the moment without anyone else. Your bodies next to one another and the water splashing your faves.

Eventually Steve pulls you into his lap. He’s brought his guitar with him and uses the instrument to push your back into his chest. His hands hold yours, outlining your fingers with the strings, helping you form the right patterns to play the beginnings of Tease.

“Now place your finger here,” he pushes your ring finger down alongside your middle. “Good, now do you remember how you get the sound to come out?”

“Like this?” With your other hand your thumb grazes the strings at the hollowed center. Remembering Steve’s gentle instructions, you’re careful with the motion, soft, and you’re rewarded with a clear, beautiful sound.

Steve kisses your shoulder and cheers. “That’s my girl! God, you’re a natural. Do you remember how to play D?”

Your pinky falls to what you hope is the right string. “This one?”

“Play it and see, angelface.”

You stick your tongue out at Steve for his lack of help, though you know he really is trying to teach you how to play the guitar. Learning the instrument had been his idea. He insisted you needed something to do during the endless downtime you’ll have between shows and you’ve never been good at telling him no. 

That, and Steve is a surprisingly good teacher. He’s patient with you and explains the intricate notes and hand placements in a way that eases the complexities. He doesn’t rush you, he never gets upset when your finger catches on a lone string, and he always showers you in praise for every correct chord. 

Steve’s expectant and encouraging smile prompts you to press your fingers down, strum at the tension, and fill the empty space in the chord of D.

“Perfect,” he mouths at your ear, smile tickling the sensitive skin there. “Everything you do is perfect.”

“Helps that I have a good teacher.” You shiver at the sensation, voice frailer than you’d like. 

“In no time you’ll be replacing me in my own band.” The shell of your ear lands in his mouth and he bites down, hard enough to force a gasp out of you, but gentle enough to leave you leaning in for more. 

You pull away slightly and shake your head. “No, I think I’ll stick to photography. Easier to remember where my hands go.”

“As if I wouldn’t guide you through it.”

The shift in Steve’s features mirrors the shift in the breeze around you. A sudden heat cuts through the once pleasant cold and festers between you. Yet underneath the heat of his gaze and the warmth of the air is a sickly sweet tinge of something more.

More more more.

“And how would you guide my hands?” Your raw throat cracks at the edges of your words. You leave your back against him. It feels safer this way to speak. 

Only Steve unwraps himself from you, crawls on his knees to face you. “Well,” he says, hungry eyes on you. “I’d place your hands here,” he grabs you, settles your left hand upon his chest. “And here,” your other cups his face, the stubble rough on your fingertips.

“And your hands?” The sigh dissipates in the air.

“Mine,” he whispers, “Would go here.” Heavy hands cup your own face, holding you as if you’re made of glass, heating the crystal with their molten tenderness. 

The guitar lays forgotten between your bodies.  “Steve…” 

In the palm of his hands nothing else exists. You’re weightless, falling forward, bracing for impact that will only devastate you. Steve leans into the fall, his body relaxes, unabashed. His nose dips down and his lips exhale upon your own and just before the collision of the inevitable, you turn your head, force his lips to graze the apple of your cheek.

That’s what scares me.

The words smear the edges of Steve’s hurt confusion on his face when he pulls back to look at you

“Y/N…?” The crack in his voice, shameful. The flex of his aching hands on the cheek his kiss crash landed into. 

How stubborn you are and how lonely Steve is.

“Hey!” Robin’s shout echoes over the roar of the water, over the chasm that divides what once was and what could’ve been. “Lovebirds, we’re leaving!”

Hands fall from your face and suddenly you’re cold again. The heat vanishes. The only air left is the withheld sigh that lingers in your lungs. 

“C’mon,” Steve grabs his guitar, offers to help you stand up. “That’s our cue.”

His voice is the same as it was before. Neutral, teasing. No evidence of the vulnerability only moments ago that laced it. The way Steve’s body moves doesn’t reflect the hurt that flecks his eyes that he refuses to place on you. 

Releasing the sigh stuck in your throat, your hand finds his and he pulls you back up, back to the before. The reality. 

Neither of you speak the entire walk back to the tour bus. Your footsteps leave marks in the grass beneath you and Steve’s guitar thuds softly against his side. 

The kiss that almost was hovers like a lonely ghost. 

– 

Hours later you’re in a venue somewhere deep in Pennsylvania. A bit run down, paint chips flick off its mauve walls. The venue isn’t the most glamorous place for the Februarys’ first performance on tour. A sold out show and an audience that packs itself in front of its stage, however, more than makes up for it. 

It’s also just nice not having to illegally smuggle Max and Mike into the twenty-one only venue. 

“Has anyone seen my jacket? Bright red, real trenchcoat vibes in a Bowie way?” Robin runs around the dressing room, her tattered tie half-way tucked into the hem of her pants. Her hair hangs in her face, strands messily meshed together with a nearly dangerous amount of pearled pins. “I swear I packed it!”

The iridescence of the pearls catches in the light and you quickly take a picture, the blues and pinks nestled in her framed hair. “Did you check your bag?”

“Yes!” She runs past you and throws open one of Steve’s suitcases. “I swear, if that fucker tried stealing it again I will kill him–”

Max undoes the first few buttons of her collared shirt and two twin braids frame her face. “Can you look for my vest while you’re at it? I think Steve is just trying to hide all our shit from us because he’s too cheap to buy his own.”

“The rich kid is a thief. Can he be any more stereotypical?”

Steve sits at the mirror and glares at them both. “At least pretend to consider that I’m a decent person.”

“No time. Need my jacket.”

Robin runs off and you spot Jonathan fumbling with a pair of deep brown cowboy boots. You zoom your lens in, laughing under your breath. “Howdy, partner.”

“Nancy said I should try out a new look.” He blushes, shifting away from the camera. “Is the sweater too much?”

“I think it’s just the right amount of southern charm and obnoxious drummer.” You reassure him.

Mike, however, doesn’t spare Jonathan the same kindness. “Who the fuck wears a sweater at a rock concert?”

“You’re wearing a janitor’s suit, dude.” Max throws a cord at him.

“It’s a work shirt,” Mike scoffs. “Not a janitor’s suit.”

“You look like a mechanic.”

“That’s the look I’m going for. At least I don’t look like a lesbian bartender.”

The two go back and forth in their insults and you smile at the familiarity of it. Pennsylvania venues don’t carry the same charm as the ones you’ve grown fond of in New York. There’s hardly any graffiti on the walls or messages left from past performers. No luck wished to the others or curses thrown to the public. 

You sit at the mirror next to Steve. The tension between you lingers, but you do your best to ignore it by facing the others to try and catch any moments to photograph. Max finds her vest, its black contrast harsh against the white of her shirt, and when she flashes you a pleased smile, it’s captured onto film.

Robin pops up behind the girl and jumps onto her back for a photo, only the weight startles Max and they fall to the ground, squealing, and your camera follows their every movement. 

“Why did you do that?” Max rolls onto her side, laughing hysterically.

Robin laughs just as hard. “For Y/N’s art!”

Their limbs tangle together on the carpeted floor, but before you can raise the viewfinder to your eye, a hand lands on your wrist. You flinch away, looking up to find Steve holding up a thick silver bracelet and a shy smile. 

“Can you, uh. Help me?” He motions towards his own wrist. “Forgot how hard it is to put this shit on.”

“Of course.” You set your camera down and take the bracelet from him, draping it against his slim wrist. He hisses at the contact. The cold metal must sting. “Sorry,” you murmur.

He shakes his head. “Don’t be.”

The soft reassurance echoes something else unspoken. Is he telling you not to apologize for what happened earlier? That he isn’t upset with you for pulling away? A part of you wants to believe that there’s more to his words than just a minuscule parting for an apology. 

Words claw at your throat, pleas and explanations, but the only three that come out are, “I’m still sorry.” 

“Y/N,” the hand that isn’t encased in yours comes up to your face, landing the same way it did in the field. His eyes fix on you with downturned lips. You’re not used to seeing him this way. Serious, weak, simultaneously foreign on his normally carefree face. “Why did you pull away?”

And he isn’t asking for an explanation to be cruel or imply that you owe him anything. Steve doesn’t ask you because he wants to tease you or scorn what you’ve done. He asks you with vulnerability, with an openness that startles you. 

Even though it shouldn’t, the question still catches at your ribcage. He’s always managed to surprise you. 

Your silence eats away at the lines that tie you to each other. Steve watches you in the mirror, patient as he was when he was teaching you the guitar, features soft and quietly expectant. 

Just as they did the first time you spoke them to Robin, the words burn your tongue on their way out. “I won’t be just another girl you sleep with.” 

Minutes before Steve’s very first show on his very first tour. 

He doesn’t react. Not how you expect him to, at least. He stares into the mirror, face stoic, jaw clenched. Something seems to settle over him, then. With every passing second of silence grows something else. Something darker. 

Unsure what to say, your fingers trace over the veins in Steve’s wrist. Maybe you do it to warm the metal that’s been placed upon it. Maybe you do it because you’re not quite ready to give this pleasure up yet. 

Steve swallows. Nods. “You’re doing it wrong.”

You look at him, surprised he’s even said anything at all. “What?”

“To warm the skin,” he takes his hand from yours, grabbing your own hand instead. He opens your palm, traces the lines within it with the tip of his nail, before slowly, ever so slowly, his hand encircles your wrist, turns it so the flesh underneath is exposed. “You do this.” 

He kisses the vulnerable skin. A sacred vow that he’s written about. 

And then Steve’s carefree and charismatic smile is back. Your hand gets dropped. As if nothing has happened. But when he winks at you in the mirror, makes a whole show of it, deep down you know he can only look at your reflection because he isn’t quite ready to face the version of you next to him. 

The change is disorienting. The performance is bitter; Steve doesn’t falter in the dizzying bitterness like you do. 

Instead he spins to his bandmates, cheering. “Who’s ready for our first show of the tour?” 

Robin and the others scream right back, clapping and prodding each other on. Steve’s smile is wide and manic. His own clapping enthusiastic. “Why don’t we all take a shot before we go on?”

Mike dives for the bottle of vodka left on the table courtesy of the venue. The bottle sloshes around as he beckons for the others to join him. Jonathan snatches it from the kid’s hands with the roll of his eyes and takes over pouring the drinks one by one. 

The scene before you is perfectly curated for your profession. The lighting bright enough for everyone to be visible. The Februarys smile at one another, youthful and vibrant, yet your shaking fingers struggle to get them all in frame. 

When you look back at the photos one day, you’ll notice Steve’s pained smile blurred into the image. 

“Just us!” He shouts, glass raised, beginning the pre-show ritual meant only for them. 

“Just us!” The Februarys echo. 

The vodka drips down Steve’s neck. His lips glisten. He exhales the fiery afterburn of the liquor and quickly throws his arms over his bandmates. Their heads brush together in the huddle of their bodies and the pounding of your heart reverberates Steve’s “showtime!” 

Despite everything, the Februarys’ first show is fucking fantastic. What Pennsylvania lacks in style, the crowd screaming back every lyric fills the void. Purple lighting floods the stage interspersed with white and pink and hints of blue in the smoke. 

Unlike their original four songs and handful of covers, the setlist of songs from The Februarys are energetic and fast and edges on overwhelming. 

Steve screams into the mic every chance he gets. Robin pounds her keys to Jonathan’s crescendos and Mike screeches chords through his electric guitar alongside Max’s rounded bass. 

The audience feeds into the band’s raw and tenacious joy. Bodies sway to the music and bounce off of each other in the deeper parts of the chaos. Their reactions are enamorating to watch, and while you’re lonely without Nancy’s grounding presence, you distract yourself with learning how to elicit reactions from the crowd yourself. 

You figure out how to get the crowd to cheer for you, to look through your lens and shout their praise for the band on stage and into your camera. The photos come out livelier, intimate, a snapshot of the unfiltered devotion for this one night only. The attention you get from the crowd, though small, is exhilaratingly reeling. 

Yet it’s only a taste of the rush that Steve must feel; you wonder how he’s able to handle the full bottle of it. 

“Pennsylvania, it’s fucking scorching in here!” Sweat drips from Steve’s face and onto the sheer black shirt that adorns his torso. The fabric clings to his soaked body, its sheer interlace offers hints of the chest underneath and glows in the stage’s light. 

People scream back their agreements. The venue’s temperature is hot enough that the glass of your lens has started to fog, though the band’s final song ends and still they demand another. The unbearable heat only ignites the desire for more. 

“Excuse my appearance,” Steve runs a hand through his damp hair, silver bracelet catching in the light. His perfectly rosie face breaks into a smile. “Is my face really red?”

Even though you know the question is directed at the crowd, you still nod, still feel the need to respond to his every word. The crowd, however, says what you can’t, shouting that he is indeed red. 

“I’m red?” Steve mocks disbelief. He knows that he’s red. He hears your whispered nickname for him every time he closes his eyes. He has the photo from the first night you ever called him rosie hidden away in wallet; only for him to see. 

More screams and amused cat-calling and Steve’s gruff chuckle drawls on. “You know, an angelface once told me that I get all rosie when I perform. She even calls me ‘rosie’ now. Isn’t she sweet?”

Hearing the name fall from Steve’s performing lips strikes into every overwhelmed cell in your body. 

“Now, she doesn’t know this, but I figured that for our last song I’d perform her name for me tonight.”

Rosie. 

“I’ve had this song written for a long, long time.” Steve looks directly at you now. Down the barrel of your loaded camera. “Are you ready?”

Jonathan’s knowing wink is the only warning you receive before his drumsticks count down. And then he pounds on the drums and Robin’s keys ring in the air, her laughter hinting at something more. Mike whistles and Max blows you a kiss. Their reactions tell you everything you already know.

They all knew what Steve’s closing song would be. 

An unreleased song dedicated to rosie. 

And it’s a fucking beautiful song. Bashful with youth interlaced in its harmonies that resemble lullabies you grew up on. Raw, innocent and overwhelming naivety that clashes with a bitter tension in its chords. 

Rock-a-bye-posie? 

No, maybe it’s ring-around-my-baby?

Or could it be rosie and falling down with you?

Rosie pink light creeps onto the stage, its saturation an exact match of the shade you long ago fell in love with. 

The melodic strain of Steve’s voice infiltrates your senses, hijacks your body, leaves you with only the knowledge of your name and how he loves to whisper it when you’re alone. Your camera rests forgotten at your side; there will be no photos of this performance.

He stalks across the stage towards you. No mercy, no sympathy for the onslaught of lyrics that chip at the cracks of a foundation built on hasty stilts. 

Mixed up all inside my head the rush of lullaby blues.

Yes or no? Or is it maybe?

Or could it be forever rosie?

Steve will be your rosie for as long as he allows it—forever, if you’re lucky. The shade of pink will always be a reminder of the boy. The scent of roses will one day leave marks in the grenadine heart of yours. 

Rosie closes the show. The final note cuts to the finish and all lights go out. 

Screaming. Endless screaming. A thunder in the too small venue that rattles the walls. 

But you don’t register any of it. The cheering falls deaf on your ears. Body humming with the need to touch and kiss and soak your love into another’s like an itch, you’re jumping over the barricade before the Februarys have even left the stage. 

Backstage you search every hallway for him. Pushing past curtains, stumbling over wires and giant lights, swiping past confused security guards, you search for him everywhere. 

Steve finds you first. Of course he finds you first. 

He collides into you. You’re in his arms and he’s spinning you around and around. A ring around its rosie. Your rosie. Flushed face, sweaty and whole. No one else exists in this world of yours. 

Your feet find the ground and Steve’s earthy scent hovers over you. Hands on your waist. Eyes on your lips. His own lips lowering down, edging closer and closer, until his hot breath touches your skin. 

A mirror image of hours before in a field with river water. 

Only this time you don’t pull away. You don’t bite at the hand caressing your ribcage. 

Close enough to feel the heat that radiates off of them, Steve’s lips whisper against your own, “Can’t just be another girl I sleep with, right?”

And then he’s gone. Pulling away entirely, tearing apart from you to deal with the wake of the wanting left behind and the words that ice your skin. 

Head spinning, you stumble back, grasp at the air that’s been forced from your lungs. You’re disoriented and confused and Steve, unable to hurt you, brings the lips that were cruelly taken from you to your forehead. 

“Thank you for coming tonight,” his lips linger, soft, as if apologizing for the body they’re attached to. “I hope you enjoyed the show.”

“Steve–” But the lump in your throat catches at the desperation in your veins. 

It isn’t enough. 

“Harrington!” Steve rips away from you, head turning to the source of his name, and finds a security guard with a hoard of girls being held back. “Want me to let them into your dressing room?” 

You watch the overly saturated, performance ready smile return to Steve’s face. He straightens his shirt out, fixes his hair, before nodding at the guard. 

“Send ‘em my way.” He leaves. 

Not once does he look back at you.

The dressing room’s door opens and Steve lets the girls in. The door gets left open. You can hear the rest of the band talking to each other inside. An unintentional, painful reminder that your job tonight isn’t done.

Left for want and nothing, you swallow down the hurt that stings your tongue. You grab your camera, inhale once, twice, cutting a smile into your glass face, and then walk into the dressing room to take the pictures you get paid for. 

– 

The rest of the tour follows this way. 

Hours, days, weeks, and eventually months pass like an exhaled gumdrop breath. Sweet, satiating, but the jagged candy leaves cuts inside your cheek that fester if you pick at them. 

Every night Steve dedicates Rosie to you. Every night he says something different into the mic. Every night the words are meant for only you to understand. 

“Winter in New York was lonely until I packed up some boxes.”

“She plasters my photos all over her walls and I write her songs she’ll never hear.”

“Who knew the face of an angel could stand someone like me?”

All for you, yet the second the lights go out Steve falls into someone else’s arms. A new girl in every city. Robin doesn’t wait for you to say you told her so; you don’t want to claim the prize of being right. 

During the day Steve’s yours, wrapped around you with an easy smile. He still calls you angelface and he’s still rosie. The suggestive comments and teasing flirting doesn’t diminish or lessen. You play into it just as much as Steve does, each of you holding onto what little familiarity that’s left between you. A back and forth with no chance of a winner.

Nothing changes, not visibly, at least, but an unease saws at the strings you’ve attached to one another and everyone holds their breath.

Then the nights come and you lose Steve again. He stumbles into the bus smelling of alcohol and women more often than not. No one knows where he goes. No one wants to ask. No one wants to be the one who brings the growing concern into the light. 

Instead the Februarys focus on their tour, on enjoying the sights of new cities and bleak roadside attractions and the knowledge that they’ve somehow made something tangible with their water-colored dreams.

They throw the excess fear into writing their first real album. Full length, explorative, narratives not yet written down. Bigger than their EP, bigger than anything they’ve ever done before. Though the fast progression feels natural to them now. Familiar. 

The tour bus fills with the arguments you heard in your apartment all those lifetimes ago. Robin’s poetic lyricism clashing with Mike’s metaphors and Steve’s unfleshed melodrama.

“For the last time, El’s eyes being ‘marooned embers soaked in coattails of whiskey’ makes no fucking sense.”

“The line has layers! It’s symbolic of being love drunk with someone’s brown eyes while her eyes are literally brown!”

“Wheeler, stop talking before Robin leaves you at the next rest stop.”

Only now their arguments are interspersed with Jonathan’s own sensitive songwriting and Max’s clever play on words.

“What if instead of ‘soaked in coattails of whiskey’ we change it to ‘soaked in cocktailed whiskey’?” 

“I think that’s beautiful, Max.”

And hearing the Februarys’ arguments, seeing the entanglement of their vastly different minds coming together to create something honest, beautiful, reminds you that the brighter, less heavy aspects of touring still exist. 

During their fifth show Mike comes up with the idea of creating new dares every performance. Stage diving, launching water at the crowd, racing across the stage mid-show every time the key of E is played. 

One night Max dares Steve to shove his mic in his mouth and for an entire song it’s stuck in the hinges of his jaw and Robin has to push him backstage to get it out. Nothing else has topped that dare since. 

“I really thought I could get it out,” Steve complains later that night. “Jesus, I thought I was gonna die.”

You brush his hair from his face. “Would’ve been a really embarrassing way to die.”

“Thanks, Y/N.”

“I only get paid to photograph you. Nothing in my checks cover being nice.”

As much as you enjoy watching the dares on stage, your favorite part of tour is traveling around the country with the band. They grow closer than ever before in the hectic blur that has become their life. 

Lazy writing sessions in national parks. Wandering around cities they’ve never heard of together. Bizarre roadside restaurants that serve possum. Passing giant semi trucks on the interstate and pissing off their drivers by demanding them to honk their horns every chance they get. 

And you’re a part of it all. Following the Februarys blindly wherever they take you, camera always aimed at their shining faces. 

Playful memories with Mike and Max, helping them pull pranks on the older band members. Moments with Jonathan when there’s no one else in the bus, just the two of you, reminiscent of your college days. Sleepovers in Robin’s bunk and shared whispered giggles.

And Steve. Always Steve.

One night, about halfway through the tour, he crawls into your bunk. You’ve long since stopped sleeping in his bed on the bus, the smell of everything you try to ignore kept you awake for nights on end. You finally had to leave. 

You’re not sure what time it is when Steve crawls back to you. The performance tonight was livelier than usual with an even larger crowd of girls waiting for him at the stage door. You’ve learned to pack your things up in the bathroom to avoid watching him leave with them. 

Only tonight when Steve wakes your sleeping body up, he smells of rainwater and green earth. No traces of metal alcohol or floral perfume linger beneath his scent. 

He wakes you with butterfly kisses to the skin he dreams about, moving closer when you don’t pull away. Instead, you open yourself to Steve, grabbing at his shirt to pull him into your bed, and he falls asleep as the boy that you know, deep down, he truly is. 

Kind and gentle. 

Rosie and wonderful.

– 

Leonard didn’t believe the band when they told him they were from Indiana. According to Max, he hadn’t even known that the state existed until they asked to perform close to Hawkins. 

“I don’t understand how he’s made so much money if he doesn’t even know all fifty states.”

“To be fair, I also try to forget that Indiana exists.” Robin tells Max. 

“Yeah, but at least you have a reason to.”

You look at the two of them in concern. “Do none of you have a happy homelife?”

Max snorts. “Why do you think we formed a band in the first place?”

“Not a very reassuring answer.”

In the end, Leonard books them a performance in Indianapolis. Two hours from Hawkins, it’s the closest he’s willing to get to their rundown hometown, and no one complains about the distance. It’s better that way, just outside of Hawkins without ever really stepping back inside. 

As you’re all getting ready at the venue, conveniently located at the heart of Indianapolis, the door to the dressing room swings open and reveals a mess of curly hair and a gummy smile. 

“Did you assholes miss us?” Dustin’s nasally and endearing voice fills the room almost as fast as you engulf him in a hug. 

“You’re here!” You squeeze the kid tight, gasping in surprise when you see Will and the others beaming in the doorway. “Holy shit!”

Mike throws himself at a bashful El while Max and Lucas wrestle each other to the ground. Jonathan isn’t any better, pulling at the belt loops of Nancy’s shorts and covering her tiny body with his.

Still holding onto Dustin, you watch the reunion between all the lovers with Steve and Robin standing beside you. 

“They’re disgusting.” Robin snorts, no edge to her comment. “I hate it.”

Steve yanks you from Dustin’s arms and drapes his own over you, holding you close to his chest. “Fucking vile, if you ask me.”

“You’re literally swaddling Y/N like a baby,” Dustin frowns, motioning towards Steve’s clingy hold of you. “Are you two seriously still not together?”

“God,” Robin rubs at her temples. “Don’t bring that shitshow up. You’ll give Steve a fucking aneurysm.”

An uncharacteristic shyness shadows Steve’s expression. He drops his arm, covering an embarrassed cough with it instead. Unable to help it, you laugh at his scandalized reaction.

“Need some water, rosie?” You playfully pout, swatting at his back. “You don’t sound so good there.”

“Fuck all of you,” he chokes out. 

Dustin cackles. “I think you only want to do that with one of us, Steve. Do you want us to guess who?”

“I’d rather fucking die.”

Taking pity on him, you shield Steve from the teasing and lead him towards a concealed corner of the room. Everyone else is busy catching up, but you can still feel Dustin’s eyes following and Robin’s unwilling acceptance. 

You bite the inside of your cheek, ignoring them.

The surprise arrival of your friends disrupts the monotonous routine of the dressing room in an infectious way. 

El braids tinsel into Max’s hair and the two girls spend almost all their time gossiping about what their boyfriends had been up to while apart. You take a picture of the glittered strands wrapped around El’s fingers.

Robin and Nancy fret over Jonathan’s appearance, the two of them throwing shirt after shirt at him and demanding he wear anything other than thick sweaters or ratty t-shirts. Jonathan doesn’t bat an eye at any of it, however, and the content smile on his face paints your film. 

Mike and Lucas arm wrestle as Dustin and Will referee. The roar of their laughter and the strain of their biceps filter through the image in a boyish, endearing way. 

“I really missed them,” Steve hooks his chin on your shoulder, standing behind you, watching the familial scene unfold. You can feel his own smile brush against your ear. “I knew I’d miss them, but having them here tonight…”

“Finally feels like home?”

“Yeah,” he laughs. “I guess it does.”

And there he is again, kind and gentle. Rosie and wonderful.

That night, the Februarys perform for their family. They ignore the demands of the unknown fans and strangers who shout their praise. None of it matters to them when they look at their loved ones beside you, crammed together in the security barrier, all cheering even louder for them.

Steve ends the concert with Rosie and you don’t realize that none of the others know the contents of the song until Nancy elbows your side and Dustin rolls his eyes. Will, Lucas, and El try to hide their snickers, but you still somehow hear them over the music anyways. 

You press your face to your camera’s viewfinder and pretend you’re too engrossed in the action to spare yourself the embarrassment of their knowing looks. 

After the show Nancy tells the band that she and the kids are staying in a hotel a few blocks away for the night. Five minutes later, you cling onto Steve’s back as he charges through the streets of Indianapolis with the rest following. 

The small hotel room can barely fit everyone inside, but none of you care. Drinks get opened. Lucas fishes out a deck of cards to play and the room fills with chaos and jokes and teasing and remembrances of the times before. 

“Steve got a mic stuck in his mouth like an idiot.” Max throws a spade down. “That's red, everyone drink!”

Beer fills your mouth and Will nearly chokes on his. “Wait, are you serious?”

“Max slipped in someone’s vomit last week.” Is all Steve says. 

“You swore you wouldn’t tell anyone about that!” Max flings a beer tab at him.

“Promises can be slippery, Mayfield.”

You snort into your drink and Steve smiles at the sound. He leans down to the exposed collarbone, revealed to him by a slip of your t-shirt, and kisses the skin there. Unashamed of the group’s eyes on him, he mouths and needles at the flesh.

“Can you at least kiss the back of my neck?” You twist away, wrestling your camera trapped between his chest and yours. “I want to take pictures of everyone.”

Someone snorts, the sound resembling Jonathan’s disbelieving one, but you don’t spare them a glace. You tug at Steve’s shirt and try to force him behind you. “Steve!”

Reluctant, he pulls away long enough to crawl to the base of your neck, right where the small strands of hair meet your spine, and resumes his kisses.

“Happy now?” He mumbles into your skin. 

You don’t bother responding, instead aiming your camera at the others. Only when your lens focuses, their amused, almost baffled, faces cut into the frame. 

“What?” You ask them, alcohol making your mouth move before your brain can stop it.

Dustin scoffs. “Not dating, right?”

“Max, can you place your card next to the beer tab? I think the shapes would look interesting together.”

“You can’t ignore us, Y/N.”

“Sure I can,” you smile. “Now, who’s ready for another drink?”

The topic gets left alone for a while. More drinks follow. Max continues the cards and the drinking game slowly turns into a tortuous one the longer Steve sucks at your sensitive skin. At first he’s easy enough to ignore, but when he finds a spot just at the crest of your spine that leaves you gasping, he’s relentless. 

“Y/N!” The flick of Robin’s fingers stings just enough to force your attention back. “It’s your turn to draw, if you can handle not melting into Steve’s arms for five seconds.”

“I–”

“She’s busy.” You’re picked up into the air and thrown onto your feet by Steve, who steadies your confused footing by gripping your waist. “Sorry, guys.”

And then you’re being dragged away from jeers and poorly hidden entertained booing by the others. None of them are upset. In all honesty, they’re more surprised Steve lasted as long as he did. 

Sticky July air washes over you. Outside the streetlights shine down on Steve’s quick footsteps chasing after your drunken giggling. He’s running after you and you’re begging him to follow and in the dark of the night it’s just you and him in a city that doesn’t feel real. 

Drunk and in love Steve’s hands snatch at your body and you’re spinning round and round and round. No weight, no strings, only his touch and your breathless adoration.

He’s singing a song that you don’t recognize but you don’t ask him what is because you never want him to stop. His voice circles around you and his fingers dig into your flesh as if he’s carved it himself. Maybe he has. Maybe he’s carved you to fit into the pieces of himself just as much as you’ve carved him into yourself.

The dizzy love-drunk head rush catches at your foot, trips your body into a fall that Steve catches. He breaks the fall with the brush of his nose against yours, like magnets your lips push and pull apart, never quite landing, never quite settling. 

But Steve needs more. 

He stills the sway of your body, stops the vibrato of his singing. He looks down at your lips. Dark brown eyes catch on the parted lips that wordlessly beg him for more, begs for the same thing he craves. 

The laughter in your chest quiets. Its remnants stick in your throat at the angle of Steve’s head, dipped low, leaning in. 

And then he stops at the precipice of your lips. His dark eyes flicker back up to yours, he sees the resolve in them that betrays the pleading of your mouth. Sobering, sombering. Mourning.

He pulls away. 

“You’re such a tease,” Steve can’t do to you what he wants. All you ask from him is to not get hurt and he won’t allow himself to hurt you, either. “Let’s go home, okay?”

He grabs your hand. 

The very same hand that insists on holding him at arm’s length when all he wants to do is dance.

When you get back to the hotel, everyone has fallen asleep. The floor of the room is littered with sleeping limbs and bodies pressed against one another. Wordlessly, Steve finds a small corner to slot himself into, rests your head on his chest, and you fall asleep in each other’s arms. 

Sometime during the night Jonathan takes a photo of the two of you asleep. The polaroid ends up tucked into the ceiling of Steve’s bed in the bus, held up by the wires of your mattress above his.

Neither of the men talk about it. 

– 

Eight cities and ten shows remain. The tour rapidly approaches its end.

Leonard Branham only speeds things up. 

“If tickets continue to sell as quickly as my son sold his soul, I might even consider officially signing the Februarys.” The payphone crackles. Everyone crowds into the phone booth, terrified of losing the shitty reception and Leonard’s ominous words. “I mean, Christ. If you tickle my ass right, you guys could get an actual album out of me!”

An album.

That’s all they’ve ever wanted. 

“Mr. Branham, that would be incredible–” Steve’s praise quickly gets cut off. 

“That is, on one condition.”

“Anything, sir.” He means it. The band would do anything if it means they can write the album they’ve been ingesting since they were kids. 

Leonard’s steel sharp words come out piercing. “Don’t fuck up.”

The temperature in the stuffy phone booth drops. 

“I-I don’t think I understand, sir–”

“Don’t fuck up.” Leonard repeats himself. “Don’t get someone pregnant. Don’t get your ass too stoned to perform. Don’t sound like squealing kittens. I’m not wasting my fucking money on a bunch of kids who can’t wipe their own asses.”

All that ever seems to follow Leonard Branham’s conversations with the band is stunned silence. Only this time the silence is wilted, clutched chests and twisting stomachs of dread. 

“Do I make myself clear?”

Terror. The dark cloud of it seizes at them. You can see it on their pale faces and stifled breathing. 

“I said,” Leonard’s impatience picks at the wound he’s stabbed into their guts. “Do I make myself clear?”

Steve licks his dry lips, exhaling, “Yes, Mr. Branham.” 

“Good.” He hangs up. Doesn’t wait for them to say anything else. 

The dial tone shuts off, a deafened finality to it. The gravity of the situation chokes at the band. Despite the exhaustion of performing and constant travel, touring has never once felt like a burden to them. 

Writing together, dreaming up an album that defines who they are, the lyrics they want to leave behind in the world, has never felt like a chore. Everything has always come easy. Even in their most defeated and anxious states, never before has their entire future looked back at them in terror. 

One slip up, one mistake, and they’re gone. 

They were just kids messing around until then.

-

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ if youd like to buy me a coffee ☕︎

⌑ please feel free to like, reblog, and comment. i adore hearing from you guys :)

[azulpitlane]

vicious pt two I ln4

pairing: ex!lando norris x reader, charles leclerc x reader summary: you are trying to move on from lando but he refuses to notes: more dramaaa and asshole lando sorry, this is short cause i kind of got busy🧍‍♀️ part one, masterlist

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, maxfewtrell and 3,268,379 others

yourusername emails i cant send is officially yours💌

it has been a long and emotional process writing this album but i loved and enjoyed every bit of it<3 im so excited to share this piece of my life with you and officially close this chapter and move on

thank you for the support, ill see you all soon❤️

view all comments

user OMGG IM ALREADY CRYING ITS SO AMAZING

user stfu is that charles in the fifth pic?!?

user it is!! he was credited in a few songs for instruments🥹🥹

user because i liked a boy hits so different when u know what she went through :(

maxfewtrell running on stream to listen to it

yourusername pls dont hate im still sensitive user omg noo i cant watch whats he saying about it?? user he loves every song, hes being so supportive and said hes team y/n😭

user her friendship with charles is so cute omg

user “friendship” rightttt😏

user lost lando but got charles, a win is a win

francisca.cgomes love love love💌

user omg i know charles introduced them

user ‘ill see you soon’ ARE YOU TOURING???

pietra.pilao so incredibly proud of you❤️ such an amazing album

yourusername p ily and miss u sm🥹❤️ pietra.pilao i miss you more we need to get together soon! yourusername otw to text u so make plans rn🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️

user the fact that landos friends are still supportive despite the breakup tells me everything i need to know

user “officially close this chapter” new era fr🫶

charles_leclerc so honored you even asked me to be apart of this❤️so proud of you ma cherie

yourusername so grateful for you❤️ user JUST DATEEEE user now kiss!!!

Lando so you and y/n huh?

Charles she's my friend is that a problem?

Lando i dont remember ever introducing you two?

Charles not that its any of your concern but i introduced myself last year on the paddock while you were too busy ignoring her

Lando so when i had back turned, you took the chance to steal my girlfriend?

Charles dont try turning this into something its not she's trying to move on so i think its time you do the same lando dont ask about her again. read

f1gossip

463,582 likes

f1gossip Following Y/n Y/l/n's album release, Lando and Charles have unfollowed each other on instagram! It is not confirmed if Y/n is the reason why, but it is heavily speculated. It seems Lando was the first to unfollow and Charles quickly followed suit.

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user all too much for little lando norris

user y/n breaking up a friendship now🙄

user she didnt do anything except release an album on how she felt, if lando gets offended by that then hes clearly the problem here

user 16 4 fans lost today but then again lando started it🤷‍♀️

user karma works in funny ways @landonorris

user lando has every right to be mad imo

user not at all, he treated her like shit then cheated and now hes mad she has friends in f1? make it make sense

user why watch soap operas when you can watch f1

user 2024 season is gonna HIT

user charles is going to have the motivation for wdc now, ferrari fans won🙏

user even though im a lando fan, i have to be team charles and y/n on this one sorry

user yup, after listening to her album i definitely support y/n

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, francisca.cgomes and 3,295,204 others

yourusername first time performing my new album at my one night show was the best time ever!! thank you for all that showed up you were an amazing crowd❤️

and just in case you missed my little announcement, bet u wanna is my next single of this album...this one's a little funny when you know the context🙊

view all comments

user wish i was able to go :(

user WHATS THE CONTEXT??

user listen to the lyrics, lando definetly wanted her back after his side girl cheated AHAH

user i need to know if charles was there

francisca.cgomes such a wonderful night💌 liked by yourusername

user your stage presence is so amazing

luisinhaoliveira99 so great seeing you🤍 liked by yourusername

user SHE WAS THERE?!? user pls tell me you guys took pictures together

user bet u wanna is so good omg

user are you opening for eras tour in europe

user it is rumored, i hope its true😭

f1gossip

376,845 likes

f1gossip Charles, Pierre, Kika and Luisa leaving Y/n Y/l/n's concert in LA tonight! Thoughts on the singer's new friendship with the drivers and girls?

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user i love them😭❤️

user i was there and saw charles with pierre and kika singing along to every song🥹

user SHUT UPPPP user stop theyre so cute

user luisa and y/n mean everything to me

user them supporting y/n despite the drama with lando shows a lot about him

user ive never wanted to part of a gc so bad

user charles is so supportive, yk who wouldnt be....

user i need them to date, he would treat y/n so good

scuderiaferrari

liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername and 1,402,440 others

scuderiaferrari Special guest for the first qualification of the season! Thanks for coming to the our garage❤️

tagged yourusername

view all comments

user OMFGGG

user i need pics of her and charles NOW

user charles got p1 cause bae was watching🙈

user is she staying all weekend!?!

user her and charles supporting each other omg

user are they finally dating??

user he was asked about it in an interview and he said they were just friends! user ugh can charles make a move already? i dont want another lando situation..

user i wonder if she bumped into lando😳

Lando was y/n really in ferrari garage?

Carlos yeah... are you okay mate?

Lando how can i be? he stole my girlfriend and is now parading her around the paddock its fucked up

Carlos he did say they were just friends and i didnt see them acting like a couple or anything

Lando there's gotta be something more i just need y/n to see who he really is

Carlos i dont know, maybe its time you move on mate

Lando no, i cant give up now do you have an extra paddock pass?

Carlos why...

Lando remember charles' crazy ex girlfriend who was obsessed with him? i heard shes in town to see him what if we send her the paddock pass so she can show y/n how charles treated her

Carlos this seems a little crazy lando why dont you just talk to y/n?

Lando she wont even let me get near her just please carlos? and then i wont ever bring it up again if it doesnt work

Carlos fine but dont tell anybody about this

Lando thank you mate, i owe you

tags: @iamahallucinationnn, @sofiacblair

[nsingcat]

ON REPEAT! C, LECLERC.

summary ✶ fans take notice when charles keeps streaming this underground singer’s two newest songs.

pairings ✶ charles leclerc x underground singer!reader

faceclaim ✶ jueun lee

notes ✶ i am the worst at summaries anyway- i hope you enjoy! i used many artists music for this (for specifics, check the end !). also ignore the fact that their relationship seems kinda fast, lets just act like a time skipped happened !1!1

#INSTAGRAM: YOURUSERNAME !

liked by user, user, user, and 10,636 others!

yourusername in the (home) studio (´△｀) ♪ 🎧

view comments

user YN NATION ARE WE READDYY

user IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE.. TURN IT UPP 🗣️

user OH MY AGEHEHE

user IS IT AN ALBUM? EP? SINGLE??

➥ yourusername eyee don’t knowww ¯\(◉‿◉)/¯

➥ user AHHHH

user pretty girl making pretty music ☹️☹️

user I USED TO PRAY FOR TIMES LIKE THIS 🙏🏼

user we better get a tour announcement with this song/ep/album 😤

➥ yourusername i don’t think i’m big enough for that yet (゜-゜)

➥ user DOESN’T MATTERR

#INSTAGRAM: YOURUSERNAME !

liked by charles_leclerc, user, user and 11,536 others

yourusername i hope everyone enjoys my two new songs every summertime & h.s.k.t ft wonstein off of my upcoming album, love yn coming 09.02.2024 ᡣ𐭩

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user YOUVE DONE IT AGAIN MOTHER!!

user HSKT IS ON REPEATTT

user BABY ILL GIVE UP EVERYTHING TO TRY AND CHANGE YOUR MINDD 🗣️

user ALBUM ANNOUNCEMENT + TWO SONGS OFF OF IT 😵‍💫😵‍💫 WE’RE BEING FEEEDDD

user september needs to hurry up wtf

user did anyone else notice that charles leclerc liked and unlike this post??

➥ user YEAH

➥ user what does he know about MY queen 🤨

➥ user RIGHT LMFOAOA

user talented brilliant incredible amazing show stopping-

user i am NOT sorry for the person i’m gonna become after this album

#TWITTER: FAN ACCOUNTS !

#INSTAGRAM DMS: CHARLES & YOU !

#TWITTER: FAN ACCOUNTS !

#INSTAGRAM: YOURUSERNAME !

liked by charles_leclerc, user, f1 and 342,638 others!

yourusername congratulations to ＠charles_leclerc for winning monza!! i had a blast being there today! p.s, thank you for the dinner ᡣ𐭩!

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user THIS IS THE GIRL CHARLES HAS BEEN LISTENING TO?? GORGEOUS OMGG

user all these f1 fans.. 🤺 GET BACK I SAY 🤺

user HE TOOK HER TO DINNER?? OH MY GODD

user he looks so good in that photo wowza

charles_leclerc As my lucky charm, you are now forced to come to every race until the end of the year. ❤️

➥ yourusername would there be more dinner dates?

➥ charles_leclerc Of course! Maybe even more?

➥ yourusername then i accept your offer, mr leclerc ! (>ω^)

➥ user JUST DATE ALREADY OMG

user okay can yall date now or whatever

user can’t believe my queen isn’t nugu anymore 💔

user all these people in her comments.. yall better stream her album when it comes out 🤨!!

user did yall see the way he stared at her when he was on the podium??? NGNGNNGN

#INSTAGRAM: YOURUSERNAME !

liked by charles_leclerc, user, user and 566,234 others!

yourusername my debut album ‘LOVE, YN’ is out now! I really poured my heart and soul into this album & I hope i was able to convey that. i wish you all enjoyment while listening to this album ᡣ𐭩!

view comments

user not you copying album of the year omgg

user AND JULY IS THE BEST SONG OFF THE ALBUM

➥ user not when round and around is right there!1!1

➥ charles_leclerc lovesick stole that spot I’m afraid!

➥ user WHATATAGSG

user THIS PHOTOSHOOT?? MOTHERR

user this is best album ever released i do NOT care what any of yall say

user HAPPY LLOVE YN” DAYY

charles_leclerc Absolutely fantastic Ma Cherie ❤️

➥ user ma cherie… don’t couples call each other that !2!1??

➥ yourusername thank you charlie ♡(˃͈ દ ˂͈ ༶ )

➥ user CHARLIE??? OH YALL KNOW WHAT IM THINKJNN

user charles being a lovesick truther iktr !!!

user you’ve come so far… *sniffs* i feel like a proud mother omg

#INSTAGRAM: CHARLES_LECLERC !

liked by yourusername, user, carlossainz55, and 953,621 others!

charles_leclerc God, I’m so lovesick, what have you done to me? ＠yourusername.

view comments

user i fell to my knees

user IM GONNA CRASH OUT?:?/!2?

user SHES SO CUTE WTAF

yourusername i’m glad i answered your embarrassing dm that day :D

➥ charles_leclerc HEY! you said I didn’t have to feel embarrassed??

➥ yourusername oops uh

user USINGN LOVESICK AS THE CAPTION CHARLES YOU SICK SICK MAN 💔

olliebearman mama y papa !

user HER CAT 😔😔

user charyn pls never die 💔🙏🏼

user idk if i wanna be her or him

ferrari welcome to the family yn !!! (pls sign my cd of ur album 🙏🏼🙏🏼)

➥ yourusername got it admin (・ω<)!!

user i cannot believe this

user THEYRE LITERALLY SO CUTE I CANT 💔

nymphia talks. artists music i used for yn’s discography! i hope you all enjoyed the fic <3!!

lee hi — h.s.k.t ft wonstein, only

NIKI — every summertime

yves — diorama

yukika — neon 1989

youra — rawww

seulgi — anywhere but home

yerin baek — ms delicate

beabadoobee — the perfect pair

2xxx, miso — girl, interrupted

heize, dean — and july

jo yuri — round and around

laufey — lovesick

[octoberautumnbox]

Orange-Tinted Sunset

Kiss of Life Belle & Male Reader

Categories/warnings: fluff, smut, angst, mentions of alcohol n bein drunk, technically not cheating but also sorta close enough idk u be the :jujj:

Word count: 2.6k

a/n: another prompt fic! based on kiof's Nothing i swear im on hiatus lmao but here it is! thanks to @mintwithchoco for prompt and hosting! as well as @sinswithpleasure for beta and @0cta9on for saying i was good at everything so i crode strove to prove em wrong lmao

~~~

The nightclub spun around you, the alcohol clouding your thinking and doubling your vision. A strange feeling set in–you really were a guppy in a small pond. Whatever roaring applause you got from the crowd after that impromptu karaoke bout was nothing compared to the girl that came next. You can’t even work up the energy to be mad; her voice is the single most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard, flowing through the air and filling up every silence in the world, and it doesn’t help one bit that everyone else thought so too.

Her name, just her name. You wouldn't mind going home with nothing to show for the whole weekend as long as you knew what she was called–you have to know. Against every single ounce of common sense you have left, you walk up to her, calling in every favor from the universe you’ve saved up until this point. “H-hey,” you stumble, clearly more nervous than you should be. 

She turns around, and as her hair settles onto her back, she replies, “Oh, hi. Can I help you?” Her smile lights up your world, and you gain confidence and lose it again just as quickly. She’s gorgeous too, and how could you live with yourself if you fucked up with a girl like this again? 

And you realize you’re staring. “Hi,” you start again, “sorry, I, uhh, you killed it up there. Best I've heard in a while.” Pardon yourself for the understatement; she was exceptional. Stop yourself from saying more; she’s probably already heard everything you want to tell her. 

All she does is giggle in response, and you swear you’re face-to-face with a goddess. You slip, so just fall deeper and remember to blame the alcohol later on, “I mean it. You’re like nothing I’ve heard before. Can I ask for your name?” 

Her face sours almost imperceptibly, but your nerves don’t let you miss it. She holds back a grimace, but ultimately, she replies, “It’s Belle. Sorry, is that all? I have to go soon.” She shifts in her chair, no doubt trying to escape the situation, and it dawns on you you might look worse than you feel. 

“Y-yeah, that’s all. I actually wanted to buy you a drink, maybe. One musician to another. You were amazing.” Your voice holds together for the most part, but it doesn’t change her demeanor. 

“Thank you, it’s just…” she hesitates, breathing deep, “whatever this is, I don’t want to get involved. You’re nice, but I just… I can’t handle anything else right now.” The discomfort leaves her features as a quiet sadness replaces it. You’re no expert, but even a dunce like you could tell she was tired more than anything else. 

“No worries, I respect it. I’ll leave you alone.” It’s strange how you feel the lightheadedness drifting away and your senses coming back, almost like you’ve saved up quite a bit of good karma to ground yourself like this. Debatable, but you still have enough sense in you to offer, “Here’s my number, no hard feelings if you throw it away. I at least wanna buy you some nachos tonight as thanks for that gorgeous song. Good night, Belle,” before paying for them and ultimately heading for the door, above all trying in vain to forget about her. 

~~~

It’s familiar in two ways, being hungover at noon, sitting in a restaurant too fancy for what you’d ever typically be found dead in. On one hand, it reminds you of one of the best days of your life–your beloved sat across from you in a simple floral sundress while you shared a brunch of French toast and orange juice. 

“Thanks for coming out,” Belle said in a tiny voice, “I'm sorry about last night. I want to get to know you better.” She offers you a pancake, and once you accept she deposits it onto your plate, followed by a just-right helping of maple syrup. 

You try to avoid sounding humble, but there’s no other way to put it. “There's not much to know, really. I just came here on a whim. Needed to get away from it all, broaden my horizons. Us singers just gotta, you know? If I didn't, I'd never have found you.” 

“I hear you. I'm here to take a step back too. Things became too much to handle recently,” she relates as she takes careful bites of her cereal. For the first time since last night, you see each other's eyes, and a kindred spirit in you pulls on your heartstrings. It's an unspoken pain that's anything but obvious, and yet you see it in each other as clear as day. 

“Fucking exes, right?” the pair of you say in unison. A hearty laugh escapes both of you, and afterwards the pancakes slide down a bit easier. 

Belle calms herself first, “So you get how I was last night. I'm sorry, none of it was your fault.” You offer her a napkin and pour her another cup of ginseng tea, which she sips with an ethereal sort of grace once she finishes talking.

“Of course. I'm sorry too,” you sigh, picking at your scrambled eggs, “but at least we're recovering. I'm actually itching to write a new song once my hangover clears.”

“Me too, it’s just so freeing to let my feelings out onto songs. Plus all it costs is a pen and paper–much cheaper than therapy,” she agrees.

On the other hand…

~~~

“Blue palm trees?” she giggles. “What does that mean?”

The waves lap idly at your feet, scattering sand over your toes and hers. The calming ocean breeze washes over the both of you and weakly ruffles the paper she easily holds.

“It's called a hook, Belle. It captures the audience's attention, you should know this shit” you jab, drawing out more of her laughter. “Just let me be, okay? I'm the one with the pencil.”

She settles again, “Okay, okay, fine,” and sits back up straight. Another wave washes the sand away from the tops of your feet, dragging them back to the depths of the sea. In a split-second of feeling the grains slide off your skin and away with the water, you feel deep inside that maybe it'll be easier to walk again. 

“You know,” she starts gently, “this isn't too bad. I came here determined to grow stronger, but I don't feel any different–just more of what I was before. And weirdly…” Belle pauses, taking a short glance at you, meeting your eyes.

You can't help it; she's just that beautiful. The orange-tinted sunset behind her offers her a halo of warmth and sincerity, and it captivates your whole being to be able to spend a moment like this again, when the world is just right, especially with her. The waterline reaches up to your soles once more, tickling the both of you and sprinkling new grains between your toes before drawing back and taking the old away. 

“... Weirdly,” you continue for her, “I'm okay with that.” Your eyes never leave hers, and she stays, too. It takes a moment of serenity for you to finally let yourself think that this might be something more, that maybe it wouldn’t be the end of the world to stay with a girl like her. 

It takes a moment of serenity for you, but it seems like forever in an instant. Memories rush back like the ocean soaks the shoreline, swapping old sand with new, but you could never, can never, tell the difference. It's the same grains washing your feet, slipping between your toes, embedding themselves in your life so well that random moments like this bring you to the past when you least expect it. It reminds you of a history you'd give anything to forget: walking on a beach like this with a girl you thought you'd spend the rest of your life with–to an extent, you still do. How could you fuck up with a girl like that?

~~~

It's the worst gamble the both of you could take, and deep inside you knew there was no winning this. You felt it in your bones, from the beach to the elevator up until before you burst through her door with her, but the feeling is gone now, and for sure it’s gone for her too.  

“Mmm, just like that,” she whispers straight into your ear. You swear you’ve never tasted anything as sweet as the sweat on her neck, so much so that you never want your lips to leave her. She pulls you closer as if she could, maybe only decreasingly aware that her back was up against the wall and that even grains of sand couldn’t breathe in the space between you two. 

It takes no time at all, and you find yourself laid back and vulnerable on her mattress. Belle towers over you, straddling to keep you in place, as if you’d go anywhere. In a flash her shirt leaves her, then her shorts, and finally her underwear haphazardly thrown to the floor. Your own clothes follow even less ceremoniously, letting nothing get in the way of the woman of your dreams. 

“Fuck, that’s good…” she says as she lowers herself onto your length. You relish in the feeling of sliding into her, pushing her walls apart all the while lewd confessions spill from her lips. Your hands find her hips and you grip her tight, guiding her up and down as she bounces on your cock, “You’re so fucking tight, Belle…” while she places her hands on your chest to support herself as she takes you inside her over and over again, “I can’t get enough of you… I need you so bad…” losing yourself in her love. 

It’s the simplest thing to grab her wrists like this, to throw her onto the bed and fuck her yourself. She hits the mattress with a quiet thud, and without even a moment of respite you force everything into her again. 

“Gnnhhh, shit, it’s so good, you’re so good…” she gasps and grunts with every thrust like it knocks the air out of her each time. The bed creaks under the two of you: she tries to pull you close again, so you indulge her and meet her where she is to kiss. Amidst your tongues dancing in each other’s mouths, she moans like her life depends on it, “Yes, yes, oh my god, yes–” 

It’s the easiest thing to get lost in a girl like her. She’s perfect in every way you can think of–a smile to die for, a heart to protect, a body to worship. Each moment you bottom out in her, a spark goes off between your lips and hers, and it only pulls you in deeper, pulls you away farther from where you are. There’s nothing else to think about when you’re with a girl like this except her name and the way her body feels on yours. It’s so dreadfully incessant, unceasing in your head, that you thank your lucky stars you’re able to hold back most of your moans: Yuna, Yuna, Yuna, “Yuna…”

~~~

The sun blazes through the window and straight onto your eyelids, jolting you awake. The bed creaks as you bounce slightly on the mattress, your mind rushing to find your bearings, when right beside you, Belle stirs but then promptly falls back asleep. 

A grave sense of guilt overtakes you, clawing from the pit of your stomach all the way up to the back of your throat. There's nothing to say to her, nothing to do, and you know it. How could you fuck up with a girl like this? 

Your phone's alarm rings on a far-off table. Rush over to it, careful but quick so Belle doesn't wake. You knock over an ottoman in the process, but you're able to turn it off in time. Then it hits you: your flight leaves in a couple hours. There's no more time to think–gather your clothes and rush back to your own hotel. 

“Hour and a half,” you think, “more than enough time to repack and go.” Your door crashes open and you heave your suitcase onto the bed, haphazardly throwing everything you own back into it. The zipper disagrees with you for a moment until you finally bend it to your will, albeit threatening its life in the process.

The cabbie drives as fast as he can legally go for you, apparently already knowing the protocol, and people and buildings whizz past in a giant blur. He drops you off soon enough, and with only minutes to spare and the gate calling you over the intercom, you board your plane. The cold of the seat comforts you and calms your nerves, and once the hurried energy leaves your body, all that's left is fatigue that demands to be addressed. 

You scarcely notice the window beside you beyond pulling it shut. The cushions aren't as comfy as your bedding from the night before, but you can't attempt to complain in a state like this. You don't even feel your train of thought slipping away…

~~~

You’ve put it off long enough, the anxiety rending the lining of your stomach. In between your own calls and texts to Yuna you find yourself on the receiving end of the restlessness of your endlessly repeating ringtone and text notifications. You wait another few seconds to make sure she’s done, even tossing your phone onto your old bed to fetch a glass of water, before picking it back up and seeing the same number of messages. It's time. 

hey, where'd you go? Belle, 8:46 AM

it's a nice song, I'll send it over in a bit. call me? Belle, 8:50 AM

I'm at the restaurant again lol come on over Belle, 9:02 AM

you're really gonna make me miss you huh? hahaha Belle, 9:33 AM

*2 missed calls*

this isn't funny. pick up Belle, 10:14 AM

*2 missed calls*

you're serious? so last night was nothing to you? Belle, 11:15 AM

*1 missed call*

wow, what a fucking piece of shit you are Belle, 11:17 AM

*4 missed calls*

is it something i said?  Belle, 2:46 PM

let's just talk Belle, 3:30 PM

*2 missed calls*

just tell me what I did wrong please, I told you I can't handle this Belle, 3:37 PM

*8 missed calls*

don't do this to me Belle, 5:47 PM

*1 missed call*

fine asshole i don’t need you and fuck your song. Belle, 7:15 PM

don’t ever call me. Belle, 8:40 PM

The screen dims under your command. Your phone flies off into the folds of your bed once more, granting you your last moment of control. Belle finally stopped, and Yuna never made herself heard. At least one of you moved on.

You stand in your cold, empty bedroom, in the same dingy apartment you tried leaving behind. The same torn-up pages are scattered across the floor, the same stains on the carpet are there to step around, the same picture framed flipped down to hide the old photograph inside like grains of sand getting swept back up to you no matter how hard you try washing them away.

“It's another bottle tonight,” you decide in no time at all. Pull a cold one from the fridge, ignore the other bottles strewn across the room, take a seat at your desk. The lamp buzzes to life, and another sheet finds itself under your pen. 

They never meet. 

~~~

[elizaleclerc]

vicious 🍒

charles leclerc x reader (smau)

summary: singer!reader starts soft launching a relationship with charles leclerc amidst a new album and tour after a messy breakup with lando norris...

song: (literally every single one mentioned lol)

author's note: back on my smau bs! faceclaim is sabrina carpenter bc DUHHH!!!! i honestly just loveee the messy drama and petty posts w this one

NEW ARTICLE: VANITY FAIR

After almost two years of fiery romance, pop singer Y/N and F1 driver Lando Norris split after cheating rumors

Rising pop sensation Y/N had temporarily put her music career on hold to accompany her new boyfriend, F1 rookie Lando Norris, on his journey to dominance. The couple's public debut was in Monaco, following Norris's first Formula One win last year. After being photographed together several times after that, the pair finally decided to be more public with their relationship, with Y/N attending every Grand Prix at Norris’s side. 

The media was ablaze with chatter about their fairytale romance, causing fans of both stars to swoon and declare them the next "it" couple. For nearly two years, Norris and y/l/n were inseparable, gracing every magazine cover and dominating headlines. But suddenly, everything changed. Rumors began circulating that Norris had been secretly seeing a stunning model for the past three months, sending shockwaves through the fandom. Soon, the once inseparable pair stopped appearing in public together, leaving fans to speculate if their relationship had met its bitter end. Now, all eyes are on Y/N as she prepares for her highly anticipated next album. Will she address the rumors and set the record straight, or will we all be left in the dark?

yourname proud to announce my second album, vicious, will be yours november 15th <3 more news soon x

liked by f1, charlesleclerc, landonorris, and others

-user8465 YES YES YES

-user9902 oh we're about to get all the answers

-user4558 if the album is as good as the cover photo we are about to get FED

-user5041 everyone place bets on how many of these songs are about lando...

landonorris A steady couple of weeks for the team, ready to take on more tracks soon!

liked by maxverstappen, mclaren, f1, and others

-user4902 sir are you aware you are about to get cooked

-user5506 um id go into hiding if i were you

-user4558 people already jumping to conclusions yall calm downnn

-user1141 have you not SEEN the cheating rumors??

-user4558 we have literally no idea what happened between them tho

-user1141 girl i fear we are about to know tho

yourname all because i liked a boy :,)

liked by charlesleclerc, sonymusic, f1, and others

-user0402 please tell me the caption is a lyric on the album i might die

-yourname shhhh...

-user0402 I DIED.

-user5903 charles being messy in the likes i cant

-user4304 y/n i don't think we are ready truly

yourname the first single, feather, is out now for you to love and enjoy!! kisses

liked by charlesleclerc, sonymusic, yourbestfriend, and others

-user3560 oh she's moved ON.

-user2094 "you wanted me, no DUH" we all said in unison

-user3932 im so sorry for your loss lando!!!

-user8856 she really just called this man a waste of time...icon behavior

-charlesleclerc A tune.

-user6678 CHARLES??

charlesleclerc Feels good to have a couple wins under our belt, the fight for the championship isn’t over yet.

liked by yourname, f1, scuderiaferrari, and others

-yourname red looks best

-user7704 hey so what does this mean

-user5089 charles dominance could bore fans

-user6723 so no ones gonna say anything about y/n in the comments? okay

yourname the vicious tour, coming to a city near you <3 check my website for more info ;)

liked by maxverstappen, charlesleclerc, sonymusic, and others

-charlesleclerc the ticket is already in my cart

-yourname what a loyal fan <3

-maxverstappen can i tag along?

-user4783 omg what did i walk in on

-user4370 charles and y/n i- um- how did-

-user3904 i need this album like yesterday i cannot wait any longer

yourname vicious is officially out now!!! creating an album is always so daunting, but everything i went through this past year has brought me to where i am now :,) the lyrics, melodies, and tears flowed out of me like a literal waterfall and this record slowly evolved into something so personal and beautiful, and i hope you all love it as much as i do. for those who have bought tickets to the tour, i'll see you all so soon. xoxo

liked by charlesleclerc, landonorris, maxverstappen, and others

-user3204 i simply have no words this is beautiful

-user5103 how is it possible to both cry and shake my ass to this album

-user0989 i know lando is somewhere sobbing and shaking

-user6434 everyone reply with ur fav songs so far!!

-charlesleclerc Picture You ;)

-yourname cheeky.

-user5568 could it be perhaps...because...its about you, charles?

charlesleclerc WORLD CHAMPION! It feels so good to finally have a WDC. The team has put in countless hours of work this season and it finally paid off. Red Bull and McLaren challenged us all year, but I've always had faith in myself and this team. This is a moment in my career that I will never forget. I'm ready to enjoy some time off, but I'll see you on the track soon.

liked by yourname, f1, scuderiaferrari, and others

-yourname my champion <3

-charlesleclerc ❤️

-user6845 OMG THIS IS NOT A DRILL

-user3579 we all love you charles!!!!

-user9356 charles wdc and y/n soft launch in the comments yall are we okay

-user5602 once again lando is probably crying and throwing up

-user1362 karma tastes so sweet

-yourname tell me about it

yourname he's good for my heart ☀️

liked by charlesleclerc, f1, sonymusic, and others

-charlesleclerc mon amour <3

-user5412 she's got him using that heart im obsessed

-user7584 going from wag to wag again she's truly iconic i fear

-user0049 girl why hide the face we recognize that man anywhere

-maxverstappen Soft launch of the century.

charlesleclerc my two loves. welcome to our little fam leo <3

liked by yourname, maxverstappen, f1, and others

-yourname love u both <3

-user6731 oh my god i might cry

-user0823 u can tell charles is so perfect for y/n im so happy for them

-user7803 charles better treat her well or we ride at dawn

-charlesleclerc i'll love her forever

-user4812 CRYING I LOVE THEMMM

thx for reading!! might make a part 2 with y/n on tour...

[baocean]

piss off your parents

note from the author - ok sorry guys there is barely any photos in this one and i know it’s long i apologize i know this is an smau stick w me tho

chapter thirty one - the L word

he doesn’t remember leaving the restaurant.

he remembers janey talking and laughing. he remembers nodding, smiling, lying. janey asking, “you love her, don’t you?”

and then, suddenly, he was outside. then in his truck.

now he’s halfway to your house, and it’s all hitting him at once. that stupid look you gave him the last time you spoke, like you were waiting for him to say something he couldn’t.

the way you folded your arms across your chest, like it would protect you from the fact he was breaking your heart. the silence.

the way it’s been eleven days, and he still checks his phone, hoping he’ll see that stupid bunny emoji he saved for your contact and still looks at the photos you didn’t know he took of you.

he sighs, muttering to himself, “this is stupid. you said it was done. you both agreed. you’re over this. you’re—”

he sees your house. and suddenly, he’s not over it. not even close.

he’s furious. at himself. at you. at how easy it was for both of you to throw away the best thing you’ve ever had just because neither of you wanted to go first.

you’re in bed when you get his stupid two word text text, ‘im outside’.

you’re actively coming up with ways to yell at him as you fly down your stairs. but when you get outside and lock eyes with him, it feels like the opening of that stupid love song you want your first dance at your wedding to be to, every warm morning where the sun touched your face as you woke up, and every salty wave that pulled you under for more when you were swimming as a child. something sweet, something bitter, something suffocating.

but looking at him hurts, and you’re not going to hide it anymore. it’s cold out. he looks wrecked. you don’t care, you cross your arms.

“must’ve taken a wrong turn. janey’s house is the other direction,” you say, voice even.

jj’s jaw tightens. he nods once, like he expected that. maybe he even wanted it.

“yeah. okay. this was a mistake.”

he turns away and takes a few steps towards his truck, but then he freezes.

“no. you know what? no, i’m not doing this again.” he turns back around, taking three brave steps towards you.

“you really think i did all this because i gave a shit about where you went to college? or because i wanted to hook up with janey? you think i sat through awkward dinners with your parents, let your friends talk down to me at every single party because it was fucking fun?”

he lets out a short, humorless laugh.

“you have no idea how many times i bit my tongue. how many times i pretended this wasn’t anything or let you keep me at arm’s length. you think i liked any of this? i didn’t. i hated every second of it.”

so he was just telling you how much he hated it? great, you already knew that. you open your mouth to fight back, to give him something that’ll make him regret even showing up, but he cuts you off.

“even after our fight. i still hate it. seeing you with max donahue and you asking me to be friends. no, yn, i don’t want to be fucking friends with you.” he says bitterly.

you look down in shame when he brings it up.

“i did it because i loved you. that’s why i fucking stayed. that’s why i kept playing along. it’s why i’ve hated every second, because it was agony. because i was in love with you.”

you freeze. the words hit harder than you expect. you look up at him, and he’s angry. it’s visible on his face and the shake in his hands. at first, you’re just... stunned. your lips part, and you stand there, unsure of what to say.

“then why didn’t you just say it? why’d you let it end like that?” your voice softens, like maybe you’re scared to know the answer. the confusion, the hurt and unanswered questions all appearing on your face through your forehead line.

“why didn’t you? because you were scared?” he waits for you to answer, you look down and when you look back up at him, you nod just enough for only to him to see it, like you’re letting him in on a secret.

“yea, me too. i was scared shitless. i didn’t know if you felt it too. and if i kept pretending it didn’t matter, maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much when it ended.”

his voice shakes, but it’s soft, and his eyes are full of vulnerability. he looks at you like he’s already lost. like he knows it.

“but it still ended. and it still hurts. and i’m still in love with you.”

he threw his arms up a shrug, then let them fall against against his sides.

“you don’t have to forgive me. i just… i needed you to know. that i loved you. that i love you. and i’m sorry i couldn’t say it when it would’ve made a difference.”

you blink, and everything stings. your throat, your eyes, your heart.

“i’m the one who should be apologizing.” you take a shaky breath.

you pause, like you’re searching for words that still feel safe to say. but safe is what got you into this mess in the first place. “i didn’t fight for us. i shut down. i shut you out. and i knew what i was doing, and i still did it anyway.”

“i was selfish and i was a coward. i made you feel like you were the only one who cared, and that wasn’t fair. it wasn’t true, either.”

he looked down at his shoes, scraping a pebble against the driveway.

he looked back up at you when you said, “you should probably hate me,” accompanied with a weak version of a laugh.

jj blinks once. then shrugs like it’s obvious, like he’s already tried. “can’t.”

you shake your head, but you can’t help it, a smile creeps onto your face. you exhale, then, as if you’ve been holding your breath for too long. “i love you, jj.”

his breath catches in his throat. jj takes a step closer. then another, not too fast. he’s giving you time to pull away.

you don’t, not now, not ever again. you nod instead.

he lifts a hand to your face, fingers brushing your cheek like you’ll disappear if he touches too hard. his thumb rests just below your eye, soft, warm. you lean into it like it’s a second nature.

when he kisses you, it’s not a rush. it’s not frantic or wild or messy.

it’s gentle. it’s slow. the kind of kiss that says i missed you. i know you. i still love you.

you kiss him back like you’ve been holding it in for eleven days, or maybe longer. maybe forever.

when you pull away from him, he doesn’t let you get far, pulling your body even closer against him and only leaving enough room for your lips to move into words.

“i’m sorry for walking out, for hurting you, and not just saying what i meant.”

“you’re forgiven, bunny. just don’t ever, ever walk out on me again.” he gives you a serious look, before dimples reappear and he’s kissing you again.

her phone

masterlist | next chapter

taglist - @dr3amgrlll / @murdockcastleslut /  @jjmaybankmylovee / @smokahontas-113 /  @abigailoveszsz / @enchantedstarfish / @reeseswirl / @lmaowhatt / @moonywhisp3rs / @dylsdaily /  @idli-dosa / @bloodofadoll / @cokewithcameron / @mariamadison6-blog / @rrosiitas / @always-reading / @sunflouer04 / @bambigirl10 / @mirellef2001 / @wasiasproject /  @bee-43 / @kissesandmartinis / @gublerstylesobrien1238 / @isinpfortvdmen / @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account / @mjwashere / @sideboobrry11 / @ameliacione13 / @wrtzia / @sanriobuny / @dramagodesss / @luvrclub / @yesshewrites1 / @ayy1234567 / @doesnt-care / @rainingcecilias 

[lovesickwounds]

SOUND OF MUSIC ( damian wayne ) damian never knew what you played, so you showed him.

no warning!

━━━━ DAMIAN KNEW A few things about you. how you liked your drinks, when you fell asleep, whenever you were nervous. he knew everything at this point. it was almost like you were his favorite book, and he was mesmerized by you.

he stared a lot. watching you whenever you took a step or moved even the slightest. so that’s how it led to this scene: damian, sitting behind you as you reached into your cd collection, searching for your very favorite song.

he had his full attention on you as you continued to skim through the ranging records you owned on cd before you laughed and pulled a square disk out.

“what is it?” he pulled it from your hand when you held it towards him, his eyes wandering across the odd font of the band and the track list on the back. when damian handed it back to you, you were turning your radio on and opening it to put the disk in.

“you’ll love them, trust me!” you laughed, scooting closer to him and pulling him towards you. he obeyed, scooting next to you as the first song played. you were humming along, tapping your fingertips against him subconsciously as the song played on.

he was amused.

song after song, he listened alongside you. half focused on the music coming from the cheap radio (which added to the ambience damian seemed to be enjoying) and half focused on the humming coming from you.

it was heaven for him. he knew what the beat was as your fingertips detailed every single beat against him, maybe by the end of the album he would know exactly what it was whenever you drummed your fingers along is or hummed to it.

“do you like it so far?” your voice was gentle, hardly heard over the music coming from nearby.

your eyes met his, and for a second he swore it was every he’d ever wanted to stare at. twinkling with hope and enjoyment—the radio playing a familiar tune you’d grown up with to the one person you truly loved.

“yes. it’s… good. i understand why you like it.” he didn’t raise his voice above yours. why would he? the two of you were so close together that anymore unnecessary volume wouldn’t be good.

“i’m glad, dame. here, we can listen to another one. it’s slower than the other one.” your voice was soft as the album came to a sweet end, causing your hands to remove it from the radio and put it away, pulling out a new album and putting it in.

the first song was a random love song, slow and melodic as you stood and extended a hand to damian.

he rose an eyebrow, but ultimately accepted your hand. pulling him up, you grinned and clasped his right hand in yours, leaning against him as you hummed and swayed to the music.

at first he was stiff. what was this? a strange display of affection as the two as you seemed to morph into one, his body relaxing after you poked softly at his spine, chastising him with a simple word he couldn’t remember.

encircling his arms around your waist, he buried himself into your neck. he could smell your body spray. and as it overtook his senses, he seemed to be able to think clearer about you.

he was in love with you, and your music taste.

SORRY FOR DYING!!! i had work and school and a whole lotta stuff happening but im here now! also super short im sorry ill do more next time needn’t fret

masterlist — requests are open — lovesickwounds 25