#vintage camera strap

[iphisnextdoor]

overalls ✔️ flannel ✔️ camera ✔️ puppy kisses ✔️

dog father: achieved

[susoriginals]

Vintage Polaroid Land Camera Square Shooter 2 in Original Box with Strap, bulbs and ALL paperwork Only $10

[lovelettersfromluna]

The Summoning

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

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

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

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

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

God you hated the holidays.

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

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

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

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

You looked damn fucking good on camera.

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

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

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

And fuck, did Ellie know what she was doing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Damn her for being so fucking hot.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She’s looking at you.

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

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

But Ellie’s head never leaves the woman.

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

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

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

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

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

So yeah, you’re probably just tired.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Once again, another example of intimacy outside of filming.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This catches you off guard.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Strip” she ordered.

Fuck.

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

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

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

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

And so were you.

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

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

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

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

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

“Come sit on my face princess” she ordered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But alas, it never lasted long enough.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And that scared you.

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

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

You realized, you needed this date.

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

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

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

Right?

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

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

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

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

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

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

Leaving Ellie for the night.

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

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

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

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

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

You feel sick to your fucking stomach.

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

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

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

You can’t fucking do this anymore.

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

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

But she does hear you.

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

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

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

You know it isn’t good.

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

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

Fuck.

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

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

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

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

But suddenly, your phone goes off.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Because Ellie never left marks.

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

But clearly, that had all changed tonight.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ellie was finally going to fuck you tonight.

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

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

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

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

You felt like you were dreaming.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Because she’s in love with you

[gigi-loveless]

Hiii is it alright if I request for a College!Camgirl!Ellie x college!reader? Could I also have a specific 💐 tag for when I ask things 😭😭?

PS: I love your work so fucking much, on my knees for them 💗🙏🏻

-💐

જ⁀➴ yes angel!! thank you <3 sorry this took so long btw!! lowkey had a bender over spring break and didn’t write 🫣

warnings: 18+, squirting, pet names, service top!ellie, camgirl!ellie, consensual video recording. photo credits to @ellies.galaxy on tiktok!

reqs are open 𝜗𝜚

────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────

“you can take it baby. know my girl can.” the auburn haired girl whispered, while guiding your hips to sink fully down on her brand new strap on that sits erect on her pale lap. the aforementioned 8 inch, lavender toy was generously gifted by one of her followers, with a message attached that simply said “to break her in.”

since moving in with ellie, you’ve gradually learned so much about her….possibly more than a roommate should. first, it was her adorable obsession with vintage video games, then the way she brings home little rocks and treasures she finds on the walk to class, then…it was finding her nude in front of a camera with your “missing” thong smothering her face.

but, you couldn’t possibly resist helping her, huh?

the video garnered tons, TONS of donations, likes, and subscriptions. her followers loved that it wasn’t a staged “getting caught” cliche, and that you fully indulged in her perverse energy. since then, she’s gotten lots of requests to keep you around in her videos, which you are more than happy to oblige.

the tip nudges against your cervix, a soft bulge appearing on your abdomen. as she shifts to zoom in on the precious sight, your long forgotten homework falls off the bed, papers sliding all across the floor.

“y’see that? how she’s fuckin swallowing me?” ellie asks the camera as she zooms in on the aforementioned “she”, being your fully stuffed cunt.

“els…please move….” you pant, digging your fingernails into her thighs as an anchor. “i…i’ll do….any-thng…” you whine desperately, dying to just rut into ellie’s hips on your own, but you know better. the first (and last) time you made that mistake, she tied you up with the vibrator on the highest setting for two hours, live-streaming the whole ordeal.

hey, at least she made over $500 off of it.

“show em how you feel, angel.” ellie coos, thrusting in and out agonizingly slow, propping the camera up on her dresser, the perfect angle to capture your doe eyes rolling effortlessly into the back of your head.

“els….ohmgd…please harder!”

without a word, ellie gets the most intriguing smirk on her face, massaging her calloused fingers into your hips for a moment….then suddenly gripping onto them, bouncing you on her cock unrelentingly. screaming her name, your legs go numb. every time your trembling hands go to grip onto her waist for support, she nudges you off, growing wetter and wetter watching you unable to stabilize yourself. a thin white ring forms around the base of her cock, that she scrambles to grab the camera and zoom in on.

“look at that…fuck.” she reaches down and thumbs on your clit, causing you to buck down into her even harder, if that’s possible at this point.

“gna…gna cum els….pleaseee…” you stare right into the camera, knowing that she’s gonna replay that moment over and over again later just to see the pathetic desperation in your eyes, your perfect pout penetrating her every thought.

“go ahead angel, cum all over this cock. show me how good it feels in you. how….how…god…how good i feel in you.”

those last words send you over the edge, collapsing into her while your entire body twitches. your tight, slick walls clench around the toy for the final time, her thumb on your clit encouraging you to drench ellie’s stomach and sheets.

“fuck…i got that shit on camera. you’re so goddamn hot.” she pans the camera down to her toned stomach, where your wetness is splattered. the euphoria hasn’t worn off yet, your eyelids heavy, vision blurry as ellie smooths down your hair delicately, throwing the camera onto her chair and cradling your head into her lap.

“such a good girl f’me…..”

[vintagecandy]

Now for the 1920s reimagining of Jonathan Crane ! sorry this explanation is even longer lmao

As everyone's been saying, I should do the rest of the Dork Squad to match 1920s Jervis, and so here is my Jonathan! Easily the hardest to draw out of the three-- but I must say! Despite being outside my expertise, I'm a little surprised how much it looks exactly like I was imagining! Even if it took me ages but that's just procrastination lmao.

Anyways! What is his deal? Well, for one, design wise I did go a more drastically different direction from his usual look by doing a literal scareCROW. He's much more bird like, with a plague doctor mask being common imagery in steampunk, but he's still very southern themed with his messy broken overall strap and patchwork coat. Even his wings are rustic. ( he can't fly just glide btw lol ) Also! I leaned hard into the color orange instead of his usual green gas because it..... bugs me that both Crane and Nygma have a bright green in their color palette. I just want them to have distinct colors if they're going to be a trio. And look how vintage halloweeny he looks !!

So why is he so well dressed out of costume? Well! This Jonathan Crane is not a psychologist at all, here he is the very successful grandfather of horror movies in the silent film era. ( An illustrious origin, i hope canon Crane would be proud lmao ). This is referenced in how his face looks, he's wearing white powder and black makeup that's usually meant to emphasize key features on blurry film like his upper lip and around his eyes. And yes, he just keeps his makeup on during most events, and people just accept he's a little on the... eccentric side.

To me, the archetype of the mad artist fits Jonathan's vibe perfectly. When it comes to striking fear, he's a perfectionist, a trait that drove him to learn every single skill necessary himself, from costume design to props to making his own cameras to mechanical engineering, to.... a "fear gas" that was supposed to gently encourage immersion in the audience but ended up becoming a dangerous chemical weapon.

For his origin crime I am thinking !! Full blown Scooby Doo style monster mystery!! With some nuance! Crane, as a first impression, gives off an immediate air of pompous, aggressively impatient, pretentious director type. His presence is big and dramatic, but its distinctly not southern-- in fact, he seems to play up something between a hollywood accent and a thespian one. But this is all to cover for his farm hick background that he was once very ashamed of.

As a child of a failing farmhand during an infamously dry and dusty era, Jonathan developed an extreme resentment for his country existence from both the bullying of other children for all his strange quirks and the severe verbal and physical abuse of his father, driven to alcoholism by the stress of poverty and the loss of his wife. Originally offering his artistic ideas as a means to help them, he grows sick of their closed mindedness and berating and runs away to learn about the emerging potential of film in Gotham City.

Its been many years, Jonathan now in his early 30s, he finds himself surrounded by the shallow, champagne aristocrats that reflect his childhood bullies. Feeling wrong in his own skin, he develops a sightly unhealthy obsession with the escapism he finds in performing as the monsters in his movies.

But upon discovering that the corrupt rich of Gotham plan to push legislation that would negatively effect farmers like his own history, and that they expected him to be amongst those who support it, his irritation with the shallowness of society reaches its limits. In day, he would feign support for their behavior to cover his tracks, but at night he would don the mask of the Scarecrow, rumored to be the vengeful spirit of a farmer who was hanged, and who he believes to be a more freeing expression of himself than his true face, targeting not just the rich but striking fear in their laborers to scare them off land. And it works. So, he tries bending the will of society more.

Is he doing this out of any moral conviction or just spite and a love for the role? It's... hard to say.

As the Scarecrow, his methods are so effective he's near uncatchable, even by Batman. Its only by solving the mystery of who is under the mask are they able to catch him. They surprise him during one of his screenings, jump him in the dark, and prove his subtle use of fear gas in the theater to the police once he's cornered. Instead of being angry, he goes to the mad house applauding Batman's performance.

What an interesting character they play. He's very inspired.

[freshl6ve]

𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒. 𝐒 | 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄

⭑.ᐟ : 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐧, his brows furrowing in confusion as he sees me standing in front of the toaster, phone propped against it. “Y/N, what are you doing?” he asks, his tone laced with amusement and a hint of puzzlement.

I turn around and grab Chris's arm, pulling him into the camera frame with me. I give him a playful grin as he stands there, slightly bewildered by my sudden move.

Chris gives me a confused grin, his eyebrows furrowed, clearly not quite understanding the situation. He looks between me and the camera, as if silently asking both of us, “What's going on?”

I extend the bag to Chris, a playful grin on my face. “Can you hold this for me, babe?” I say, my tone innocent yet mischievous.

Chris takes the bag and slips his arm through the straps, holding it on his side. He shoots me a quizzical glance, wondering what I'm up to. As I walk back to my phone, starting the Tiktok recording, I can't help but giggle at the image we create together. He stands there, looking casual in the tote bag, waiting to see what comes next.

“i love when beautiful girls have a little gay boyfriend. they just have a little feminine vintage levi’s wearing tote bag carrying…”

Chris's ears perk up at the sound of the TikTok starting, and the words immediately make him chuckle. He stands there, a playful glint in his eyes, fully embracing the joke.

I burst into laughter as the TikTok describes Chris as a “feminine, tote bag-carrying” boyfriend. Chris joins the fun, striking poses with the tote bag, channeling his inner femininity and enjoying the moment. He flashes the camera a playful grin as he poses, embracing the humor of the situation.

Chris, in the middle of his playful poses, turns around to see me laughing and admiring him, my happiness clear on my face. He walks up to me, a beaming smile on his lips, and plants a gentle kiss on my lips. The camera catches the sweet and playful moment between us flawlessly.

I laugh against his lips, my hands coming up to cup his face as we share this moment. The camera captures the joy and lightheartedness of our connection, with me holding his face between my hands, laughter echoing softly.

Chris pulls back slightly, looking into my eyes with warmth and affection. He speaks softly, a hint of amusement in his voice, “You're so silly, baby.” The words fall gently from his lips, the tone tender and playful. The corners of his mouth curve into a smile, the camera capturing the sweet exchange between us.

“You always find a way to make me laugh,” he adds, a hint of adoration in his tone. Chris's fingers gently brush against my face, his eyes filled with love and amusement at my playful antics.

I walk over to my phone, grabbing it with Chris's arms still wrapped around my waist. We both watch the video together, his chin on my shoulder, as I giggle at our playful moment. Chris chuckles lightly in my ear, his fingers gently tracing patterns on my waist.

I turn to him with a playful glint in my eye, “I didn't know you could be so sassy,” I tease him, laughter dancing in my voice. Chris smirks and shrugs, playing along with the joke with a playful hint of defiance, “What can I say? I'm full of surprises.”

With a grin, I take the phone and caption the video “My sassy boy @christophersturniolo,” officially sharing a playful moment from our relationship with the world through this soft launch on the media. Chris watches over my shoulder, a mixture of excitement and nervousness flickering in his eyes, anticipating how the public will react to this subtle but meaningful reveal.

As the video gets published, Chris takes a deep breath, the reality and implications settling upon him. He glances at me, seeking reassurance, his hand gently squeezing my waist. Even though he knew I was taking the step, fear of the unknown and how his fans would react lingers in the background of his mind.

I refresh the video and a flood of comments rolls in. Fans express their joy and excitement at our cute chemistry, remarking on how happy we look together, and surprise at Chris being in a relationship. Their words fill us with warmth, and Chris's eyes light up, a mixture of relief and delight filling him.

I turn to Chris, a warm smile on my face, and say, “I knew everything was going to go fine.” I wrap my arms around his waist, offering reassurance and love. He smiles, the tension easing a little, and pulls me into a tight hug, finding comfort in my words and our connection.

Chris, chuckling softly, looks down at me, his taller stature creating a slight height difference. “I would still have loved you no matter what anyone thought,” he affirmed, his tone full of sincerity. He gently tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, a warm smile playing on his lips, the depth of his emotions shining in his eyes.

I smile and playfully go on my tiptoes, reaching up to meet his lips, sharing a tender kiss that conveys affection and reassurance. Chris leans down, meeting me halfway, our lips gently touching in a moment of tenderness and love.

I wrap my arms around his neck, tangling my fingers into his hair, deepening the kiss. I press close to him, our bodies brushing against each other as we share this intimate moment.

Chris's large hands find their way to my hips, his grip firm yet gentle as he holds me close. He gently squeezes my hips, pulling me flush against him as we continue the kiss, our bodies melding together in the embrace.

Nick's voice interrupts the moment as he walks into the kitchen, playfully commenting, “Congrats on soft launching your relationship, but please do get a room.” He walks to the fridge, casually teasing us as he tries to ignore the display of affection between us.

Chris and I break the kiss, both of us laughing at Nick's playful comment. I let my hands slide down to Chris's arm sides, our laughter filling the kitchen. Nick continues to ignore us, pretending to be focused on searching for something in the fridge, trying not to embarrass us further.

I chuckle and apologize, “Sorry Nick,” still giggling a bit. Nick laughs and walks back upstairs, leaving us alone in the kitchen. I wrap my arms around Chris's waist, nestling my head against his chest, our embrace comforting despite the brief interruption. Chris wraps his arms around my shoulders, holding me close in a warm embrace, his chin resting on my head.

We stand there for a moment, the silence settling around us, both of us finding comfort in each other's presence and the small intimate moment. Chris gently rubs my back, his fingers tracing gentle circles, as we stand together in this quiet kitchen, his chest rising and falling beneath my head.

Chris suddenly breaks the moment, releasing his hold on me. He strikes a playful pose with the tote bag, “Am I giving puss?” he jokes, a playful smile forming and amusement in his eyes. He pretends to vogue with the bag, trying to look as feminine as possible for added humor.

I burst into laughter at his diva-esque pose with the tote bag, “Yes diva!” I manage to get out between giggles, my eyes sparkling with amusement. Chris continues posing, leaning into the diva role, exaggerating his movements.

Laughing in delight, I reach for his hand, pulling him close for another kiss. Chris, still holding the tote bag, leans in, meeting my lips again, our laughter merging into a sweet and gentle exchange of affection. We break the kiss, still giggling, and Chris sets the bag aside as he embraces me.

Chris leans his forehead against mine, his words a gentle whisper, “I love you.” His voice is soft and sincere, his eyes shimmering with affection. I smile and bring my hands up to cup his face, my fingers tracing his cheeks, “I love you more,” I reply, filled with love and contentment.

Chris responds playfully, “That's impossible” His voice is a soft murmur, his eyes meeting mine. I laugh softly, playfully pushing him away, “It is!” I argue, giggling in his embrace. Chris shakes his head and pulls me back in as we melt into another sweet moment.

“You're impossible, you know that?” He teases, his fingers gently tracing my sides, bringing me closer. “Yeah, but you love me anyway,” I reply, nuzzling my face closer. “Unfortunately” He jokes, rolling his eyes exaggeratedly, but his playful tone betrays affection.

I feign offence, my tone exaggerated. “Chris!” I exclaim, pretending to be hurt. He chuckles, his hands cupping my face gently, “I'm joking, baby,” he says, and he leans in to kiss me, capturing my lips in a warm embrace.

I melt into the kiss, a playful sigh escaping my lips. Chris and I exchange a heartfelt kiss, filled with affection and just a hint of teasing. He pulls away, gently resting his forehead against mine, a playful glint in his eyes “You know I love you,” he adds, emphasizing his words, the playful banter a testament to the ease and joy in our relationship.

“Yeah, yeah I know” I respond, rolling my eyes playfully, trying to hide my amusement. Chris continues to hold my face, his thumbs gently tracing my cheeks, “Don't roll your eyes at me,” he teases, a soft chuckle escaping his lips.

Chris, still holding my face in his hands, softly traces my cheek with his thumb. He locks his gaze with mine and whispered, “You're stuck with me forever.” His tone is gentle and playful, accompanied by an undercurrent of tenderness. The words have a depth to them, a promise of unwavering devotion.

I smile, my heart swelling with love at his words. “Forever is a long time,” I respond with a hint of teasing in my voice, but love shines through my eyes, acknowledging the promise he made. Chris nods playfully, “You heard me,” he teases, his fingers gently pushing a strand of hair behind my ear, a fond grin spreading across his face.

Our playful exchange continues, Chris gently teases, “No refunds, no exchanges.” He chuckles softly as he pulls back, his fingers still tracing my skin with tenderness. “You're stuck with me for eternity,” he repeats in a gentle murmur, the words a mix of tease and certainty.

I laugh softly, feeling the warmth of his words wash over me. “For better or for worse?” I tease, pretending to weigh the options, a playful smile curling my lips. Chris leans in closer, a soft chuckle escaping him, “For both, forevermore,” he whispers, sealing his promise with a gentle kiss on my forehead.

“Forevermore?” I question, raising an eyebrow, but I can't hide the smile that lights up my face. His words hold a profound truth, a promise of forever, making my heart swell with love. Chris smiles softly, a mix of playfulness and tenderness in his eyes, “Forevermore,” he repeats, his thumb gently brushing my cheek, a comforting touch to seal the playful vow.

Chris holds me close, our foreheads still touching, and speaks gently, a tinge of poetry in his words, “Forevermore, in every moment, through laughter and teasing, my love for you will endure. I promise to stand by you, through joys and challenges, forevermore.” His words gently linger in the air, a sweet and playful poem that encapsulates our playful exchange, filled with love, and a promise to cherish one another for eternity.

TAGS: @st6rify ✮⋆˙ @jetaimevous ✮⋆˙ @certifiedstarrr ✮⋆˙ @slvtf0rchr1s ✮⋆˙ @l3sbiancvnt ✮⋆˙ @wh0remikasas ✮⋆˙ @r0s3luvr ✮⋆˙ @emely9274 ✮⋆˙ @mimiluvzpicklez

── .✦ MASTER—LIST ⭑𓂃

[sscieloz]

Live your life

band!aespa x groupie!reader

Synopsis: It’s been less than a year since the band Aespa was created. Karina, Minjeong, Giselle and Ningning travel all over the country with nothing but a few gigs, little money and much love for the music. They’re far from superstars, and still don’t have a lot to offer. Besides, there’s something they can’t quite grasp: why you, the band’s most faithful fan, follows them without even questioning.

Warnings: lots of plot w a little bit of smut in the end, as alwayss.

Word count: 6.5k

Notes: I tried following the MV in chronological order (except for that little deck scene bc I forgot abt it and when I went back to rewatch the MV I didn’t know where to squeeze it in so wtvr) and I’m kinda proud w the way it turned out ˆˆ I had lots of fun writing it so I hope you have fun reading it too!! Also I ❤️ you band!aespa let me be your fucktoy I can take the four of you. and not in a fight (probably in a fight too).

pt.1 | pt.2

“Is this legal?” Ningning asks, hugging the straps of her backpack. She tilts her head up to grasp at the place that would make their stay for this week of competition, its grand walls of concrete leaving her in awe.

You’ve been wiser this time: the cache of the band’s last performance made it possible for them to buy a roof rack for your brother’s— now basically theirs— van, which provided much more space for equipment and luggage. 

“Not really.” The four of you say, in unison. With a deep sigh, you grab your belongings and walk towards the huge stairs that precede the nearly-abandoned place. 

“It used to be a bathhouse,” Karina tells the maknae, holding her by the shoulders as they walk forward in hopes of making her less uneasy. “But now they use it as a vintage, low-cost hostel, or whatever. It’s always cramped during these times of the year, so we’re safe Ningnie. Don’t worry.” 

The bathhouse is huge, although its dirty façade announces it’s been long since the place served its initial purpose. Grass grows around their feet, nearly disappearing into the wild, and there’s a great amount of dirt clinging to their shoes in the parking lot. Three floors are presented in front of them in all of their grandness, in a structure so massive the place could be misguided as a shopping mall. 

Ningning gulps, although she doesn’t look relaxed in the slightest. Going up so many flights of stairs leaves you breathless, resting your hands on your knees as soon as you reach the entry lounge. The inside of the building is much different from what you expected: it’s filled with warm lights, and most importantly, it’s packed. Young people storm from side to side, hanging out in the corners or walking in rushed paces. The mixed voices bring a lively vibe to the open area, and you smile as you watch comforting chaos unravel. Such noise is enough proof that you're here: the girls are actually going to perform in the most important music competition in the country. 

A hand on your shoulder grabs your attention as you reach for your camera, itching to record every second of the journey. Ningning’s voice makes you look up amidst getting lost searching for it in the middle of your stuff.

“Y/n.” She calls for you, staring at the ground to avoid making eye contact. Her shoulders are pressed downwards, announcing a hesitant posture much unlike herself. You hum in response, acknowledging her while still looking through your backpack. “Is it ok if we room together, this time?” 

You watch as Ning brushes her hands repetitively, aware something’s wrong. Ningning might be the youngest of the band, but she’s usually mature, serious, and confident; It’s concerning to have her acting like that.

“Sure, unnie.” You smile at her, looking around as you squeeze her arm in hopes of offering her some reassurance. After making sure the other girls were busy with the check-in, and that there weren’t any eavesdroppers, you ask, “Are they back again? Have you been getting any sleep?”

Ningning’s nod, followed by a tired sigh, is enough of an answer. You know being so dependent on her friends bothers her deeply, even though you’ve told her countless times none of you mind. 

It’s well-known among the girls that Ning struggles with night terrors. Being an independent and strong-willed child made her extremely talented, but also very lonely. Ningning’s parents invested in her and sent her away from her hometown, Harbin before the age of 10. From then on, the maknae found herself all alone in Korea, pushing through an excruciating routine at a shitty entertainment company where people barely knew her name. She never spoke, at first because she didn’t know Korean at all— but also because people rarely talked to her; only urging her through events and evaluations like a doll.

Or better, more like a ghost. The loneliness clung to her bones, making its way through her soul until she wasn’t even sure who she was without it. 

Ever since then, her nightmares have kept her awake at night, trapped in a tangled mess of absurd dreams that deprive her of getting any rest. The hallucinations are so real she’s frequently urged out of sleep with a trembling body and heavy nausea, rushing to the nearest bathroom in complete panic.

Thankfully, not sleeping by herself is something Ningning found to be of much help, even if just a bit. So the girls take turns holding the youngest member close in their arms until her body gives up to exhaustion, still trembling. 

That was before Ning had gotten it under control. With the help of a professional and her friends’ endless support, she eventually learned how to suppress her troubled thoughts. As months went by, her nightmares somehow did not scare her as much as they did when she was a little girl. 

Or so she thought. Asking for help meant things were not looking good at all, which set up an alarm in the back of your mind. 

You had to talk to Karina about it and let the leader know. Out of the three girls, she was the most protective of Ningning: the duo acted like sisters most of the time and had a tight bond. 

“We’ll get rid of those nasty monsters, Ningie.” You tell her, resting your arm on her shoulders as you walk side by side to the elevator. “Fuck them. I’ll personally beat their asses for disturbing our little princess’s sleep.” 

Ningning’s laugh fills up the small corridor, and as she clings to your body, you’re reminded of how small she is. The maknae trusts you; it’s something you feel in the way she reaches out for your embrace, allowing herself to be vulnerable even if not for long. 

“So,” Karina says, staring at the four of you with a serious face. “I know we all want to enjoy the festival too, and we absolutely should. But it’s late, and it’s a week-long competition, so I say we take it easy and rest today.” 

The leader's words reverberate through the elevator, her assertive tone leaving it clear that it was a rather strong-willed suggestion as you all nod. 

“We’ve worked hard for this opportunity.” Minjeong agrees, leaning onto the big mirror that gave the impression that the elevator was much bigger than its actual size. “Let’s not fuck it up. We can have fun later anyway.” 

“Our first performance is tomorrow, but we have a bunch of interviews scheduled before that. We must be well prepared and rested.” Giselle adds, while they get onto their floor and start walking toward their assigned rooms. 

Somehow, the girls always manage to get caught up with something just minutes before getting in the car for their road trip, which meant you arrived later than expected. At nearly 4 AM, everyone was tired, even though the adrenaline of being part of something as big as The Box was enough for them to be a bit jumpy, eyes darting around to capture everything dimmed possible. 

The rooms were better, this time: there wasn’t any dust and the place looked fairly comforting, compared to the last place you stayed at. You drop your backpack and your small suitcase onto the ground without much care.

“Goodnight, cuties. See you in the morning.” You murmur, rubbing your eyes as you throw yourself on the bed, extra tired from being the designated driver for the entire journey. Giselle, Winter, and Karina wave faintly, too, making their way to their room at a quick pace. 

Ningning smiles and watches as you stretch yourself, exhausted. She’s quick to drop her stuff and pull her single bed, although it doesn’t move further than an inch. “Y/n… help me join the beds, please?” 

“Right, right. Of course.” With some effort, the two of you manage to move the two beds together into the center of the room, and you relax for a bit while Ningning occupies the bathroom. The soft sheets that welcome your face are much different from the leather seats of your car, and the change is well welcomed— so much you let out a deep sigh, relieved now that you’re finally able to relax. 

After changing into your pajamas, you stare at the ceiling and you wait for Ningning to hop out of the shower and join you in bed before falling asleep yourself. However, the last thing your mind registers are the soft sounds of Yizhuo’s shower before sleep takes over your body and you lose a short-lived battle to unconsciousness. 

—

Life is anything but peaceful when you give up a normal, ordinary life to live off of music. Not that it’s a bad thing: if anything, the thrill of not having a routine grants to the girls a type of freedom that only comes with art. 

That’s all Karina can think about as the five of you hang out at a big, open field. There’s a fence where you and Ningning sit, and the cool breeze messes up her long, pitch-black hair. More than freedom, the leader’s chest also burns with a deep sense of accomplishment. 

Within a blink, she’s at the bathhouse’s rooftop and this time her bandmates chat lively by the place’s enormous sign. It’s nighttime, and a different kind of unsettlement takes place inside her rebel heart this time, one Karina feels deep in her bones.

Thankfully, she doesn’t have to dwell much: her senses prove to be right almost immediately when they’re struck by a sea of shooting stars. They fly by so fast Karina barely sees them, making their way through with such strength she’s pushed onto the ground. There’s only enough time for her to grab a single star, grasping the small light within her hands as strongly as she can. 

But just as fast as it happened, the storm is gone. Karina looks up to talk to you and the girls about it, but you’re nowhere to be seen. She frowns, realizing she’s left all alone, under the darkness of a starless sky. 

That’s when she wakes up: breathless, trembling badly as she grabs her neck in hopes of making more air run through her lungs. Despite the cool night, her body is drenched in sweat. Yet, the oldest member can’t help but sigh in relief once she looks up beside her and finds Minjeong peacefully asleep. The leader looks to the other bed, where Giselle’s faint snores can be heard, her mouth hanging slightly open as saliva drools onto the bassist’s pillow.

Karina’s safe. She’s with her girls, in the comfort of their room. 

Yet the loneliness she felt still echoes through her body, hurting enough to draw small tears from her eyes before she acknowledges it. It had been such an empty moment… to look up and not see any of the people she loved and cherished deeply. 

It’s something Karina decides she never wants to feel again. 

“Mhm…” Minjeong stirs, her eyes half open as she stretches her arms out. Karina’s noises probably woke her up— the girl has never been a deep sleeper anyway. “What are you doing awake?” 

A few seconds go by, and Karina stays silent. The answer comes when the blonde is almost falling asleep again, so low Minjeong thinks she’s imagining it. “You left me there, all alone. All of you.” 

“We… who?” Minjeong’s voice is scrappy with confusion. She looks at the leader, scratching her head as she watches Karina get up. “Why would we do that? We’re literally right here, unnie.”

Minjeong’s attempts to understand her friends fail. If anything, she’s bluntly ignored by Karina, who shakes Giselle gently until she manages to get the Japanese girl up, although clearly in a zombie-like state, still barely conscious. 

The weather was still a bit hot by the time they arrived, so the girls agreed to leave the old, arched windows open for the night. Now, the wind had messed up the leader’s wavy hair, and there were little eye-bags under her eyes from waking up so abruptly. As a result of such an intense dream, Karina’s lips trembled and her body lacked its usual strength, which was noticeable by her limp arms. She looks fragile, clearly disturbed by a train of thoughts echoing inside her mind. 

And the way the leader stares at Minjeong so helplessly… It’s the reason why she doesn’t question when Karina offers her hand to help the blonde out of bed, in complete silence. One that remains until the leader unlocks your and Ningning’s room with her spare card, walking onto the bed with light steps— as if she was taken by the wind itself. 

Your bedroom is not as big as theirs, and the improvised bed is still rather small, but Karina makes it fit. Her hand is keen on Giselle’s back, urging the girl back to bed as the leader lies her down once again. Like in a puzzle, Minjeong squeezes herself between your arched back and Ning’s body, careful to not wake up either of you. 

“Feeling better?” She asks Karina, who watches the scene with a small smile. Minejong’s heart is filled with warmth at the girl’s pretty face, as she closes her eyes once again. 

“Much better.” The vocalist murmurs, calm and collected. Being tangled with her girls at one of the country’s most successful music events is enough to dissipate her previous loneliness. There’s nothing else she needed but the five of you. “I’m no longer alone, now.” 

She’s complete.

—

The Box is an event created for Companies from all over the country to show off their assets and make as much profit as possible—and they make sure to capitalize on every second of it, which is as much of a burden as it is an opportunity for its participants. The girls had interviews, outfit changes, and makeup booths provided by sponsors, guaranteed as long as they shot commercials and launched a few good words about their brands. 

Held in a big, open area, the place brings goosebumps to Karina’s stomach, reminiscing too much of her dream as the same clouds wind on the sky, blocking the sun’s path. Just as she had done moments prior, you look up too, frowning. The lack of light makes the day seem gloomier than usual, and a single droplet of rain would result in an atrocious, muddy day. 

And that would be a disaster, for sure.

“So,” After recording the stage they’d perform at in just a few hours, you turn around and nearly shove your camera on Giselle’s face. “Enlighten us, Gigi: why is the festival named The Box if the main stage is actually a big fucking losangle?” 

Giselle’s tone is condescending as she adjusts her perfectly arranged bangs, giving you a dirty look before answering. “Y/n, my love.” She redirects the camera to capture both of your faces, smearing your cheek with her lip gloss. “You just have to accept some things: like the weather, time… and The Box’s setup. It’s how it’s always been, so let’s not dwell on that matter, okay? Thanks.” 

“Very well, then. You heard her.” You nod back at the camera, capturing the massive stage for a few more seconds before pausing the recording. 

Giselle’s passive-aggressiveness was one of her hottest traits, and you loved to watch her boss people around. Which she always made sure of doing, whenever she had the chance to.

The Japanese girl giggles at your words, nudging you gently. Not much further from you, Karina and Ningning stand in a big line for something popular dish. You wave to them, and Giselle straightens her posture, following your stare as she grunts. 

“So, you and Jimin, huh.” She asks, plucking at the grass with her shoes. It’s obvious she’s trying her best to sound nonchalant and not make a big deal out of it.

It was no secret that you were devoted to Karina, surrendering yourself with as much as a whisper from her. Still, it was amusing to you how shy Giselle seemed with her question. Her hesitation was sweet, so cute it draws a smile from your face. 

“Oh… well, yeah.” You shrug, not at all ashamed of her hidden inquiry. “She needs someone to warm up her bed.” You eye Giselle attentively, studying the older girl’s body language before adding, “I can help you with that too if you’d like. I know Jimin unnie wouldn’t mind.”

Your answer catches her off guard, her eyes wide from your straightforwardness. You’re nearly teasing her for being so shocked when she laughs, shaking her head at your straightforwardness. It’s Giselle, after all: the girl has such a flirty nature you’d be surprised if she didn’t give you a run for your money. 

“We’ll see... You’re sure one of a kind, Y/n. That you are.” She answers, with a sultry tone before gently squeezing your arm and vanishing from your sight. 

That is enough for you. The Japanese girl’s gorgeous looks and confident nature make her so desirable and hot— truly an it girl, often leading the group to try out new music styles and different types of choreographies. Giselle is always pushing herself outside her comfort zone. 

It’s good that she knows you’re also willing to try anything she’d like, too. 

Brushing that subject off your mind, you take some time to dive into the festival, just as curious as the girls were: the place is still beautiful, despite the weather. Its lively atmosphere is enchanting, and there is so much happening: from bands singing on minor stages to dance performances not much further from where you stand. Everyone seems eager to participate, and you’re just as excited to watch everything at once.  

This event is also a great opportunity for you, considering you’re still attending university— hoping to major in Media Arts in a year or so. Even though you spend most of the time following the girls around, your passion for filmmaking and photography is also one of the reasons you’re so committed to recording everything your eyes meet. You plan on making this documentary into your final presentation of the year and submitting it to one of your main classes. 

So you record everything: making a full turn to capture your entire experience. You’re so committed to your task that you don’t even notice Minjeong’s frame behind you, the blonde girl not making an effort to move such thing as an inch from out of your way. 

The two of you collide with each other so roughly you have to hold onto the girl’s tiny frame with your free hand to prevent her from a having dirty fall.  Minjeong gives you an ugly look, impatiently wiping the dirt from her plaid skirt. She’s judgy, as always— not a day goes by where the blonde doesn’t give you a hard time.

Although you weren’t exactly peaceful to her, either. 

“Do you ever wear a bra?” She mumbles, annoyed. Minjeong’s fingers press the tip of her nose bridge and she closes her eyes as if dealing with you was enough to drain all of her energy. 

“Why are you looking anyway?” You’re quick to snap back, crossing your arms over your chest. 

Choosing comfort over fashion was something you’d always do, and today was no different. Your look for the day was rather basic but perfect for someone who’d be walking around the entire time: a pair of jeans and a plain white tank top that made your Aespa badge visible to anyone who took a quick look at you. However, that little show of hers has made the dirt that clung onto the fabric attract attention to your breasts, highlighting the way your pierced nipples peeked through. It had only been a few weeks since you and Giselle got them done, so you were still a bit hypersensitive.

Not that you minded, anyway. Minjeong would be a jerk regardless of that: the blonde made her life’s purpose to annoy the shit out of you, and she’s very committed on doing so.

Proving your point, Winter scoffs, all annoyed.

“You always make this shit on purpose, don’t you?” You stare at her, confused, and it seems like she’s had enough. Rolling her eyes, Minjeong brushes past you, nearly dragging you by the shoulders as she stomps away. “Whatever. Whore.”

Minjeong is so rude. Undeniably so, with an insanely stubborn temper. Her mood changes quickly, and it is hard to tell if she genuinely hates you or if it is just some kind of playful banter.

Not that you cared much, honestly. There were many important things for you to worry about, like the amazing festival happening at the moment. You’d deal with that nightmare of a girl some other time. 

Instead of allowing the petite girl to disturb your mind, you decide to walk around by yourself too— despite preferring to be surrounded by the girls at all times, you were cool to be on your own.

You were deeply committed to making a masterpiece out of your clips. If the work you handed in was good enough, then perhaps your professor would overlook the number of absences on your attendance sheet and give you a nice grade. 

After walking around for a few minutes, a certain stage catches your attention: the structure is small and curiously held like a boxing ring, where nine girls sing and dance in beautiful harmony. The space is so far from the center of the festival its last rounds of chairs nearly drag onto the woods that surround the place. 

The girls performing are all dressed in dark pants, white crop tops, and black ties, and they’re incredibly in synch while still making complicated moves. Their voices are sweet, and so is the music that flows to your ears: it’s a cover of one of your favorite songs, KARA’s Mr.

Your eyes go straight to the sign that hangs in front of the stage, looking for said group’s name. Thankfully, it’s easy to find, both in Hangul and Romanized.

Fromis9.

The nine girls’ bright stage presence fills up the area, and it amazes you how coordinated they are, not one outshining the other despite being so many. No lines are stolen in the song; instead, they add to each other beautifully, reminding you of your girls. The contrast is fascinating, from Aespa’s four-member band to those strangers, who sing cheerful songs like this will be the last happy summer of their lives. 

You’re enchanted by them, truthfully. Not only talented, the girls seem genuinely sweet, as they spin and jump around to hype up the dead crowd. And oh, they’re stunning: each one with striking features, ones that surely seem like they’ve been taken straight out of a fairytale. 

You make sure to record their entire performance, as well as the little playful moments reserved for interacting with their fans and supporters. Soon enough, the song ends, leaving the group breathless but happy. You watch as the girls bow and take turns passing small water bottles around, tired from giving their all on stage. 

A few of them start a small discourse, although you don’t pay enough attention to grasp the meaning of their words. You’re too busy staring at one of them instead, hiding behind your camera so she doesn’t see how enamored you are. 

The girl is small, but her slim waist and toned muscles announce she must spend most of her free time at the gym. An energetic pink-haired girl clings to one of her arms, providing a clear contrast to her long, pitch-black hair, but she doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest: if anything, she hugs the energetic girl back, laughing and she twirls her friend around.

Luckily for you, there’s a big paper clasped in front of her shirt, just like every artist who is currently performing and competing at The Box. You search for her name with expectation, just like you’ve done with her group’s name.

Hers say, Saerom. 

A beautiful name for an enchanting girl. 

However, it’s her face that surprises you the most. She’s beautiful, of course— stunningly so, but so is everyone at this festival: something expected for a place with such a high concentration of artists, models, and people in the entertainment industry in general. But as you look into her high cheekbones and sharp jawline, you’re surprised to find such kind eyes staring back at you. Saerom’s eyes provide her soft, almost ethereal look as she nods to you. It’s a faint action, one a distracted eye would barely notice once she moves back to the middle of the stage with her bandmates, yet you’d never miss it. There’s no way she wouldn’t stand out, despite her plain outfit. 

You could stare at her for hours. 

Although you’re incapable of doing so: in a blink, steady hands grab your camera, and your arms are urged down so fast you nearly let it fall on the ground. Nothing disastrous happens, thanks to your steady grip and good reflex, but your vision is blocked by a serious Karina, fuming as she stares angrily at you. 

“What are you doing, Y/n?” The leader’s cocky, angry voice is something you only hear when she’s feeling intimidated or when she wants to be petty, which is unusual for the occasion. Why would she be so defensive towards you?

Karina usually yaps her heart out until your ears hurt from her complaints. It’s a normal thing for her to do, whenever she’s pissed. However, she doesn’t say anything this time, clearly waiting— demanding an explanation. 

So you lift your camera, playfully poking her in a failed attempt of easing the grumpiness out of her. “I’m making The Box’s documentary as my final presentation.” You stay on your tiptoes, trying to get a hold of the view Karina is blocking so confidently, but it’s useless by now: the performance is over, and the Fromis9 members have already retreated backstage. “For that class I told you about, remember?”

Karina rolls her eyes, ignoring your explanation as she directs you in the opposite direction. With a resolute tone, she brushes off the matter. “Whatever. Listen, Y/n: you should only focus on us, your band. There’s no need for you to look at anyone else.”

Oh, Karina’s fuming. It’s easy to tell, from the way she refuses to meet your face to the red that paints her cheeks. You giggle, enjoying her subtle possessiveness. 

Truth be told, you thrived on being reassured just as much as the girls did. The only difference was that you made an immense effort to hide how much it aroused you, well aware they’d use it as an advantage. 

Besides, there was a bit of truth behind her words: the girls were the only ones you truly felt connected to; they were yours just as much as you were theirs, and you didn’t feel like you needed to meet new people.

“Of course, Jimin unnie.” You nod, walking next to her as you turn your camera off and place it back in your backpack. “Aespa is the only band worth looking at, anyway.” 

Karina blossoms under your praise, smiling brightly as she kisses you gently, her irritation gone. “Good girl. Now let’s go to the main stage. There are only two hours until our performance, and the girls are starting to get ready.” 

You’d like to tease her back a bit but now wasn’t the time. Not when the band’s nerves were all over the place, nervous they’d fuck up the opportunity of their lives. No, you wouldn’t do such a thing. You’d be their anchor, peace, and most faithful supporter as you always were, ready to remind the girls of their true potential. 

With that, you and Karina walk back to the main stage with synchronized steps, and the moment with Saerom is brushed off to the back of your mind.

You've probably imagined the entire thing, anyway. There was nothing to wonder. 

—

“Hello, girls. Are you Aespa?” The staff asks, entering the room with his eyes glued to the list in his hands. After the five of you nod, he adds, with a comforting smile, “You’re on in 30. Come after you finish your makeup and clothes so we can start the soundcheck and set up your microphones.”

With another nod, you fall into a nervous silence once again. The girls have waited for this opportunity for so long; the crowd’s heated screams could be heard from where you stood, only adding to the girl’s expectations. It was the first time they performed in front of so many people, let alone at such a big and renowned festival. 

“I think I’m going to throw up.” Giselle mumbles, softening her necklace as if it were suffocating her. Her breaths were uneven, her eyes fixated on the ground. 

Karina smiles softly at the girl. As the leader, she knows it’s her duty to look composed and relaxed, to tranquilize her bandmates. “You’re not going to throw up, Gigi. You just need some air. Come on, let’s get out of here.” 

The leader grabs Giselle by the arm, urging her up. As they go through the door, Ningning rushes to follow their steps. 

“I need to breathe too.” She gulps, not even sparing you a glance as she runs to catch up with her friends. 

The nerves were striking, and they needed to look composed so they’d give their all on stage, as always.

You and Minjeong were the only ones left backstage, which allowed you to take some time to study her better. The blonde was perfectly still on the couch, with a rigid posture and hands clasped tightly on her lap. She looked composed, almost bored, as she always did— but you know her better. 

Minjeong’s muscles were visibly tense, and her left leg was bouncing so much you were afraid it’d be chopped off from her body. She’s usually so composed, rarely giving a fuck about anything in her life. Whatever it was, the most Minjeong would do was roll her eyes at it or give it a nasty, rude response. Nothing else.

Seeing her bottle up her feelings like that is something that leaves you deeply uncomfortable. The way she deals with her emotions is none of your business of course, and it’s not like she ever talks about how she’s feeling with anyone anyway. 

Minjeong rarely talks about herself; not to you or her bandmates. She’s simply someone very private when it comes to that matter. It’s something the blonde struggles with— understanding and acknowledging her emotions are not things that come to her naturally, so Minjeong would often carry her burdens alone until the feelings get so heavy she explodes, taking it off on someone who has nothing to do with whatever it is she’s going through. 

Although it surprises you to see how deeply caring the girl can be. Minjeong, who knows Karina loves apple-flavored candy and sorts them out for her leader, even though they all think it’s gross. Minjeong, whose personal space is sacred, allows Ningning to be as clingy as she wants, aware the maknae longs for physical contact after being deprived of it so much as a child. Minjeong, who is the most competitive person you’ve ever met, but lets Giselle beat her at deck games whenever they notice the Japanese girl is feeling down. 

Minjeong, who despises you thoroughly, but snuck a new SD card into your purse after seeing you struggle with your camera for a few days. 

You didn’t want her to make her big debut feeling like a nervous wreck. She needs to relax, and not be so tense otherwise she won’t do good in her performance. 

And you know just what to do. 

With a sigh, you drop your hand from the doorknob and turn to her, leaning on the wall to take a better look at her. 

“You’re nervous.” You state, smirking at the sight of her face growing red—the blonde girl, usually so collected… oh, how she hates to be caught. 

Most importantly, Minjeong hates you can always see right through her. 

“Well no shit, Sherlock.” 

Walking towards her with small, unhurried steps, you sit right next to her, crossing your legs as you lean onto her.

“I can help you with that.” You whisper to her, staring at her mouth. “Do you trust me?”

Minjeong scrunches her nose but doesn’t move away. Her answer, however, comes immediately— not an ounce of hesitation coming from her mouth. “Not at all.”

“Good.” You cup her face. “Wise girl.”

Leaning in, you capture Minjeong’s lips in a messy kiss. Despite her fiery personality, she tastes sweet, and you savor the strawberry essence of her lip gloss. Kissing Minjeong is addictive, yet you can’t seem to get enough of her. You lick her lips and devour her until your lungs scream for air, and the two of you get off each other when there’s no air and you’re both left desperate and breathless. 

Minjeong’s blonde hair flows freely, her scrutinizing stare forgotten the moment the two of you got so close your breaths entwined. For a moment, you don’t do anything but stare at each other, as you look for any signs of what she’d like to do next. You’re nearly sure she’d tell you to get lost until she grabs your neck and pulls you close, kissing you for the second time. 

“You’re completely insufferable, Y/n.” She murmurs in between the kiss as her thumb brushes down your neck. Even though there’s a faint pressure, her touch is almost soothing, urging you down to your knees. “Now, do more.”

You’re more than eager to follow her wishes, urging her pants and underwear down in a swift motion. Minjeong’s pussy is so pretty, all pink, swollen, and glistening, and you lick your lips with anticipation. The blonde girl lies comfortably on the couch as she spreads her folds with two of her fingers— showing herself to your hungry gaze.

“How do I look right now, Y/n?” Her tone is drenched with mockery as you squeeze her thighs, drawing a shiver from her. Your hands trace tiny circles on her milky skin, and you choose to ignore her; too focused on her beautiful body on display for you. 

Minjeong’s free hand goes to grip your hair, annoyed by your lack of response. “Fine, then. Do you want to know how you look?” 

Her malicious smile, much different from her delicate features, is what makes you shiver at her concentration. Giving her thighs faint bites, you ask, “Enlighten me, Minjeong.” 

“Like a whore.” Her grip tightens and you can’t help but bite harder this time. “Hey! See, I’ve always said you’re just a cheap who—“

Minjeong is silenced by your warm tongue on her pussy, licking a big stripe of her sex, as you go all the way up to suck on her clit as well. Her high-pitched moans are like music to your ears, and you take turns sucking her sensitive bud and letting out some lewd, loud sounds as you nearly make out with her pussy. 

“Do you want my fingers, pretty girl?” You mumble, staring at her through your lashes. 

Minjeong looks like a painting, beautiful with her mouth half-opened and a thin cover of sweat covering her brows. She nods frantically, urging you even closer.

Greedy, that’s what she is.

“Yes, please.” It’s the first time you’ve ever seen use her manners, so you’re quick to comply. “Fuck, Y/n…” 

Two of your fingers enter her cunt without any resistance as you thrust hard and fast. She bucks her hips to add to the stimulation, and you’re graced with the glorious view of her abs, thankful she chose a tiny crop top for the day. You want to see her tits, too, but it’s not like you’re in any position to demand anything— not while Minjeong uses you as a toy, rocking onto your mouth as her moans grow louder and louder. 

You feel her walls tensing up, and her toes curl as she tells you, “Y/n, I’m going t—“

“Cum for me, Minjeongie.” You give her clit one last, harsh suck, as her breathing becomes even quicker. “That’s it, let go.”

Minjeong follows your commands, reaching her orgasm with a high-pitched moan as she squeezes your head in between her thighs. Her body trembles from the stimulation, and you keep your fingers inside her walls until she’s calmed down enough that her screams are reduced to heavy breaths. You lick her clean, then, careful to not touch her clit as you eat her out for a few other moments. 

What’s most surprising to you, though, is the delicacy in her touch as she urges you up, tasting herself on your lips. 

“Sweet.” She giggles, before grabbing your tank top and pushing you off her. Minjeong’s obsessed with oversized jeans, and her current ones look huge on her tiny waist as she takes her time with buttoning up. “I really needed that, Y/n. Thanks.”

You don’t bother to hide a cocky smile as you nod, shrugging. 

“You’re going own that fucking stage today, Minjeong. All of you.” It’s what they were born to do. There isn’t a slight possibility of them not doing their absolute best on stage.

“I know.” Minjeong looks around, bouncing back and forth with her hands on her jeans’ back pocket. After a pause, she adds, with a quiet tone, “You’re going to be there, right? At the front row. Recording and all. It’s one of the only things you’re useful for.” 

You smile, understanding the hidden meaning behind her bored tone. “Of course, I will, dumbass. I’ll be there with you, as always.”

You’d always be there for your girls: cheering, supporting, or helping the band with anything they needed. 

Karina, Ningning, Giselle, and Minjeong were not sure of when you had become such an important figure in their lives, but there was something they all agreed on: they’ve grown too fond of you now. It was impossible to let you go. 

Not that you had any intentions of leaving their side, anyway. 

[incognit0slut]

Right Kind of Wrong (19)

She never thought she’d be involved in a murder investigation and encounter her one-night-stand again, the awkward guy who isn’t exactly that good in bed—Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong… But as he gets tangled with the beautiful stranger, he realizes there is more to her than what meets the eye.

Part Summary: Spencer finally takes her out on a date. Part Warning: 18+ explicit content (Public fingering) A/n: I did not forget this series, I've just been distracted I'm sorry!! I also apologize if there are any inaccuracies in some random facts, I am not as smart as him, I can only do a quick research from Google.

Other parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18

"SO, HOW DO I LOOK?"

She spun in front of the mirror, showing off the dress she had picked out that afternoon on an impromptu shopping spree. The garment had looked stunning on the store mannequin, and now, in the soft glow of her bedroom, it was more appealing.

The spaghetti straps delicately framed her shoulders, and the lavender fabric accentuated her curves. The bottom of the dress, hovering just below her knees, gave a playful vibe with a teasing slit inching up her right thigh. And the neckline, with its very low plunge, offered a glimpse of her cleavage she couldn't help but wonder whether it was showing too much skin.

"Like you want to get laid," a playful voice called.

Her laughter echoed through the room as she turned to face her phone and realized the dress was hugging her ass quite snugly. "It's too much, isn't it?"

"Not at all," Sandy's voice echoed through the phone again. She glanced at the screen, seeing her friend's smiling face. "You look gorgeous."

She grinned, the reassurance from Sandy making her feel more at ease. "You think so?"

"Absolutely."

She reached for a sparkling necklace and dangling earrings, holding them to the camera. "Necklace or earrings?"

"Hmm." Sandy squinted at the screen, studying the options through the video call. "Go with the earrings. They'll add a touch of glamour without stealing the spotlight from the dress."

She nodded in agreement. "Earrings it is, then."

As she carefully slipped herself into the accessories, Sandy couldn't help but muse her thoughts. "I don't think I've ever seen you wear purple."

She cleared her throat awkwardly. "What do you mean? I've worn this color before."

"Your wardrobe either consists of black or gray. You had to go out shopping to buy this dress."

She laughed nervously, caught in the act of her predictable wardrobe choices. "Alright, fine." She pursed her lips together before letting out a sigh. "I may or may not have asked his friend what his favorite color is."

"You sly fox," Sandy laughed with a huge grin. "So you do want to get laid."

She blushed, adjusting the earrings. "I mean, if the occasion arises..."

"You've got this all planned out, huh?"

"Well, not exactly, more like... strategically considered?" She tilted her head and observed herself in the mirror again. "Does it make me look desperate?"

"Of course not," Sandy reassured. "It just shows you're putting in effort. Besides, confidence is attractive. You look hot."

She blushed at the compliment, but before she could respond, the distant hum of an engine reached her ears. Her eyes widened, and instinctively, she moved towards the window and noticed a car pulling into her driveway. It wasn't the usual sleek, black government vehicle; instead, the car looked like it had seen better days, although it held a vintage charm that caught her by surprise.

Then reality finally kicked in—he was here for a date, not because of his job. They were actually going out for a nice dinner he had prepared.

She suddenly felt sick.

"Sandy, he's here," she whispered, her voice betraying a touch of panic.

Somehow Sandy still managed to hear her voice from across the room. "You'll be fine! It's not like you haven't spent time with him before."

"Not when my life wasn't on the line." She was met with silence and walked over to her phone, picking it up to find Sandy's disapproving glare. She sheepishly smiled towards the screen. "Too soon?"

Sandy shook her head with a sigh. "Only you would joke about your near-death experience."

"Spencer told me it's a coping mechanism."

"You've joked about it to him as well?"

She nodded. "He's not a fan either." The sound of the doorbell ringing brought her back to the present. "I need to go."

"Wait!" Sandy's urgent voice echoed through the phone again. She watched as her friend's expression softened. "How are you feeling today?"

A warm smile graced her lips, moved by Sandy's ongoing concern. Ever since they reunited at the hospital, Sandy couldn't stop apologizing for what had happened, even when it wasn't her fault to begin with. Her friend consistently checked in on her well-being.

"I'm actually feeling pretty good. Nervous, but good."

Sandy nodded, her smile carrying reassurance. "Good. Now, go enjoy your date."

She reciprocated the sentiment with a blow of a kiss towards the camera. "I'll call you later," she promised before ending the call. Taking a deep breath, she composed herself, slipping her phone into her purse as she descended the stairs.

Spencer was waiting at the door when she opened it, all cleaned up and undeniably handsome. His well-fitted suit accentuated his strong shoulders, and the crisp white shirt beneath complemented the subtle purple tie he wore. The fabric of the suit, in a rich charcoal shade, seemed to bring out the warmth in his hazel eyes.

A nervous smile played on his lips, only enhancing his charm and giving him an endearing quality that made her heart skip a beat. His eyes, however, spoke volumes as they assessed her, taking in the way her dress hugged her curves. Spencer couldn't help but be mesmerized by the sight before him.

He was so mesmerized that without thinking, he stepped forward and wrapped an arm around her waist, catching her by surprise. In an instant, he leaned down, his lips meeting hers in an unexpected yet tender kiss. The warmth of the moment enveloped them, and for a brief instant, her worries seemed to fade away.

Her initial surprise transformed into a soft smile as she reciprocated the kiss, savoring the way lips moved against hers, and when he finally pulled away, he looked into her eyes with a mixture of admiration and affection.

"I couldn't resist," he admitted, his nervous smile now replaced by one of genuine warmth.

She couldn't help but smile, feeling a flutter of excitement in her chest. "I'm certainly not complaining."

As they exchanged smiles, she noticed a smudge of her lipstick on his lips. She burst into laughter, breaking the moment with a lighthearted touch.

"You've got a little something right here," she teased, reaching up to gently wipe off the lipstick with her thumb.

He simply gazed into her eyes with a sincere smile. "You look beautiful."

Blushing at the compliment, she smiled appreciatively. "Why thank you. You don't look too bad yourself," she replied with a playful glint in her eyes.

"Come on," Spencer urged, gently tugging her arm, and she willingly followed him after locking her door.

As they walked down her driveway, she felt Spencer's hand on her lower back, a gesture that added an extra layer of comfort to their connection. Unable to contain her surprise, she couldn't help but comment on the unexpected sight of his vehicle.

"I never pictured you as someone who owned a car," she commented, her tone teasing but filled with curiosity.

Spencer chuckled, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "It may not be as sleek as the government vehicle, but it gets the job done."

She laughed, finding his revelation endearing. "Well, I'm impressed. It suits you." Her eyes scanned the vintage-looking car. "It reminds me of you actually."

"What? Old and worn out?"

She shook her head, smiling. "No, not at all. I meant classic, with a certain charm."

His smile widened at her response. "I'll take that as a compliment."

Spencer graciously opened the car door for her, and she beamed appreciatively, slipping into the vintage car's comfortable interior. The soft glow of the dashboard highlighted the nostalgia-infused details of the vehicle, making it clear that Spencer had a penchant for classic styles beyond his usual government responsibilities.

As he closed her door, he circled to the driver's side, sliding behind the wheel. The engine hummed softly and as she watched him, she felt a certain warmth traveling through her body.

In the soft glow of the car's interior, she couldn't help but notice how attractive he looked. His features were highlighted by the dashboard lights, casting a subtle yet captivating glow. Before he could pull away from the driveway, a spontaneous impulse surged within her.

"Wait," she said, her voice breaking the quiet ambiance of the car. Without overthinking, she reached over and gently grabbed Spencer's arm, tugging him back for a moment.

He looked at her with concern. "What's wrong?"

She smiled, feeling a surge of boldness, and leaned over to him. She closed the distance between them, her lips meeting his in a more passionate kiss than before.

He responded with a mixture of surprise, yet his hand gently found its way to the back of her neck, deepening the kiss. His lips moved in sync with hers, and when she softly sighed in contentment, he pushed his tongue inside her mouth, tasting her ever so slightly as his other hand found its place on her thigh.

But when his hand inched under her dress, she laughed and gently pulled away. "I don't think we'll be eating anything if we continue this."

He looked at her sheepishly. "Right," he murmured, readjusting himself in the driver's seat. "Sorry."

With a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, she settled back into her seat, fastening her seatbelt. "So, where are you taking me, Handsome?"

His lips curved into a smile as he finally pulled away from her driveway. "It's a surprise," he said. "You'll see."

It wasn't really a surprise. Spencer had already mentioned wanting to visit this place and the big sign saying 'PLANETARIUM' at the entrance was already a dead giveaway.

However, the unusual quietness that enveloped the space caught her off guard. With only a handful of staff present, the vastness of the empty lobby echoed the click of her heels.

The atmosphere shifted when he gently urged her to close her eyes. Suspicion mixed with curiosity, she couldn't resist teasing him as she followed his instructions. "What do you not want me to see? I already know where we are."

A secure arm wrapped around her waist as Spencer guided her through the darkness. She could sense a grin in his voice as he replied, "Sure, but the location isn't exactly the surprise."

"What is then?" She asked. The echo of their footsteps persisted, creating a rhythm in the quiet space of the planetarium.

"The experience," he simply answered. "Keep your eyes closed a bit longer, we're almost there."

"This is kind of making me nervous," she admitted. "You're not going to kidnap and murder me secretly, are you?"

His steps faltered briefly before she let out a sigh, urging him to continue moving. "Sorry, that sounded way better in my head."

There was a heavy silence before he replied, "We should do something about you joking on that matter."

"It's called dark humor."

He softly hummed. "There's actually a psychological explanation for dark humor as a coping mechanism. It's a way for people to navigate and make light of challenging situations."

"You've mentioned this before."

"I know," he confirmed. "I just want to remind you that every time you think you're being morbidly funny you're using a well-established psychological defense mechanism."

"And what do I have to do with that information?"

"Well, for starters, you can appreciate your brain's attempt to keep things light." He gently squeezed her hip. "But maybe try to cut yourself some slack for the occasional dark joke."

She couldn't help but smile, even with her eyes still closed. The subtle squeeze on her hip added a reassuring warmth to his words. "I still don't get why your boss wants me to see the therapist you guys provided when I already have you."

Spencer chuckled and pulled her closer. "Because one, I'm not a licensed therapist. And two, my therapeutic techniques might involve a bit too much intimacy for the average counseling session."

She laughed. "You mean sex?"

"Sexual intercourse," he corrected, still not wanting to say the word, which she nudged her elbow into his side in response.

As their footsteps finally ceased, Spencer gently urged her to open her eyes. When she complied, her eyes widened in astonishment at the breathtaking sight before her—a vast array of galaxies projected onto the ceiling of the planetarium. The cosmic display painted the dark expanse with hues of celestial beauty, leaving her momentarily awestruck.

Yet, what surprised her even more was the scene at the center of the room. A table setting, elegantly arranged, caught her eye. The table was adorned with flickering candles, casting a soft glow on the carefully arranged dishes and the gleam of polished silverware.

She stood in awe. "Spencer, this is... incredible." Her eyes swept over to him. "You did all this?"

"Well, technically the staff prepared this." He guided her further into the room. "But I pulled some strings."

"Some strings? I think you pulled all the strings." She threw him a grateful smile as he pulled her chair, urging her to sit down. "This must cost a fortune."

"Don't worry about that," he assured her, settling in the seat opposite her. "I just want you to enjoy the night."

As she took her seat, the soft glow of candlelight accentuated the contours of his face. She felt a flutter in her chest, realizing she was falling even harder for him. It wasn't just the fancy setup; it was the thought behind it that got to her.

Fate truly had a peculiar way of guiding her to this present, bringing Spencer into her life. It was a bit surreal knowing that the worst things she'd been through somehow brought her to a moment like this.

Maybe, she pondered, there's a silver lining, a reminder that good things can sneak up when you least expect them. And now it was worth focusing on those good things.

So she savored his company, the easy flow of their conversation, the delicious meal he had prepared, and the soft music playing through the stereo. She also enjoyed being close to him moments later when they finished their dinner. The warmth of his presence felt comforting as they lounged in the viewing seats, gazing up at the scene above.

"Do you see the seven bright stars forming a distinct pattern?" he asked, gesturing toward a shimmering formation.

She followed his guidance and nodded. "They look like a tiny ladle or a dipper."

He smiled, appreciating her observation. "That's the Ursa Minor, also known as the Little Dipper. And the North Star, Polaris, is at the end of its handle."

"The North Star?" She repeated.

"It's a crucial navigational star. Sailors and travelers have used it for centuries to find their way. It remains relatively fixed in the northern sky, making it a reliable reference point."

"Hmm," she hummed. She then pointed to another set of stars. "What about that one?"

He followed her gaze and smiled.

"That's the Orion constellation," he said. "It's one of the most recognizable and has a lot of myths around it. In some cultures, it's a hunter chasing various prey across the sky."

"And what's the story behind that?"

He leaned in closer to her. "Well, in Greek mythology, Orion was a mighty hunter who fell in love with the Pleiades. However, fate had different plans, and he ended up among the stars, forever pursuing them."

Her gaze remained fixed on the celestial display, captivated by the tales woven into the stars. "So, he's like a romantic?"

Spencer chuckled. "In a way, yes. Myths often carry themes of love, tragedy, and destiny."

"Like human nature."

He nodded in agreement. "Like human nature."

There was a moment of silence before she turned to him. "How do you even know all of this?"

"We often travel outside the city and the skies are pretty clear in remote areas. Sometimes you can see a few constellations."

She raised an eyebrow. "You're telling me you're a secret astronomy enthusiast while solving crimes?"

A bashful smile played on his lips. "When I have the time," he admitted. "There's something fascinating about the stars. They offer a sense of perspective."

She smiled. "It's nice to know even a man of logic and facts finds magic in the sky."

His gaze softened. "Magic has its place in the world, even for a man of logic." He suddenly reached out to the back of her ear and retrieved a dollar bill out of thin air. "See? Magic."

She couldn't help but laugh as she took the bill from him and examined it, tracing the edges. "I remember you doing this trick the first time we met."

He leaned back, a contemplative look in his eyes. "It feels like a lifetime ago, doesn't it?"

"Considering everything that happened since then, yes," she replied. "You know, I never asked why you were at that bar in the first place."

A subtle blush painted on his cheeks. "I was... enjoying a drink." When she gave him a deadpanned look, he raised his eyebrows. "What? Do I not seem like the type to be hanging out alone at a bar?"

"You stood out like a sore thumb." She gave him back the dollar bill. "I remember you barely touching your beer."

Spencer sighed, taking the money and placing it back in his pocket. "I was supposed to hang out with the team, but they ditched me."

She arched an eyebrow. "They ditched you? Why?"

He shrugged. "Apparently something important came up."

"So they left you hanging at a bar?" When he nodded, she tilted her head in mock sympathy. "Well, it certainly worked in my favor."

He watched her, the flickering memory of that night flashing before him. The first time he kissed her, the taste of her lips, the sensation of holding her naked in his arms. Then his eyes raked down her collarbone, pausing slightly at the swell of her breasts before looking back up to meet her gaze.

"It worked in my favor too."

She noticed his gaze lingering, a subtle heat spreading across her cheeks. The air suddenly shifted as he leaned closer, creating an intimate space between them. There was a magnetic pull, and she felt her breath catch in anticipation. He gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lightly grazing her skin.

"Tell me what you remember that night," he said, a low timbre in his voice.

She felt the warmth of his breath against her ear and she met his gaze with a flush coloring her cheeks. "I remember seeing you sitting alone at the bar."

His reply, a mere whisper, reverberated dangerously low. "What else?"

"You came up to me and did that magic trick." A faint smile played on her lips as she reminisced. "I was amused, and we sat together."

His eyes lingered on her mouth. A subtle tension lingered in the air, each exchange building upon the last. "And then what happened?"

"We talked," she breathed, the word lingering in the air like a shared secret as he leaned closer. "We laughed." She felt his breath brushing against her lips.

"Then you kissed me," she confessed, and in the heartbeat that followed, he leaned in, his lips meeting hers gently. She let herself sink into his touch as he held her face, keeping her in place while he continued to taste her all over again.

His lips fit perfectly and she kissed him back as eager, letting his tongue glide into her mouth so effortlessly. She held onto him, slightly pulling him closer as if he wasn’t close enough even when he was practically pressing his body against hers.

When he slowly pulled away, she suppressed a moan. "Like this?" He asked.

"Like that," she murmured, the taste of him lingering on her lips as they shared the space between breaths.

The warmth of his lips traveled down her jaw, leaving a trail of soft, lingering kisses that brushed over her skin. "What else do you remember?"

His lips trailed further down, and she shivered. "We..." Her voice wavered, breath hitching, as his hand slid down her arm before his fingertips began to faintly stroke her skin, grazing over the hem of her skirt. "W-We went back to your place."

"Go on," he urged the words hanging in the air. She felt his fingers glide over her inner thigh, stopping abruptly as he reached the middle.

"You..." She let out a small, shaky sigh as he dragged his fingers up, stopping just before the rough pads of his fingers brushed over her panties softly. "...you touched me."

He began carefully moving his middle and forefinger in a gentle circular motion, rubbing her teasingly through her damp panties before, without warning, they were pushed aside, the hot pads of his fingers finally making direct contact with her clit.

"Was it like this?"

Her hand wrapped around his forearm, trying to stop herself from moaning aloud, her eyes fluttering closed as he began to play with her clit, his fingers skillful as he rubbed in small circular motions, his eyes fixed on her. She looked over at him, her mouth going slack as she felt the sensation in the pit of her stomach.

She didn't seem like herself, and although she didn't mind public displays of affection, she wouldn't let it go beyond a kiss. She wasn't the kind of person to be intimate in public, but here she was, letting him touch her when any of the staff could walk in. Heck, she wasn't sure he was the type of person who would do something like this.

His fingers moved from her clit, dragging down her slit and collecting her arousal, briefly plunging them inside and curling upward, pressing firmly against her walls. She looked down to see his fingers gently pumping in and out of her cunt. Her legs were so wide from him that her knee was practically resting against his thigh.

"Tell me," he whispered, "Did I touch you like this?"

Her chest began to heave, her hips unconsciously bucking against his hand as he worked over her casually. "Yes," she breathed out.

Soft whimpers escaped her as she bit her bottom lip, trying desperately to be as quiet as she could manage. The fire in her stomach burned hotter with each expert glide of his slick fingers. Her legs opened wider and wider for him which seemed to please him judging by how fast his fingers began to pump into her cunt.

A strained whimper filled his ears the moment he circled her clit with his thumb, the added stimulation did nothing to help her sanity, and moans began to spill from her lips, mouth parting in pure bliss.

"Spence," she whined, voice so unsteady and breathless, she couldn't control her volume anymore, desperate moans mixing with the sounds of her wetness dripping between her thighs.

"That's it," he encouraged, speeding up his fingers. "Let go for me."

The pressure of his fingers was making her impending orgasm loom dangerously close as her back arched from her seat, hand gripping around his wrist. Her eyes flew over to him as she reached her peak, body shivering and writhing as she pushed her hips down against his fingers, feeling them slide from her pussy before circling her clit in rapid motions.

With a final gasp, she lost all control, her mind growing numb, feeling him wildly as wave after wave of pleasure pulsed through her entire body. She cried out silently, calling his name over and over until she grew too weak while she desperately clung to him.

When he finally pulled away, she felt her arousal dripping down her legs. She stared at him wide-eyed as he fixed her panties back in place before brushing her dress over her legs. When she kept looking at him in a daze, he softly laughed and leaned down, brushing his lips over her cheek.

"Are you okay?"

"I..." she was gasping for air, a hand-tossed over her chest. "Did that actually happen?"

He chuckled, his warm breath tickling her ear. His fingers gently traced the outline of her jaw as her face flushed—lips delicately swollen, eyes glazed with a mixture of desire and surprise. The aftermath of her climax painted her cheeks in a captivating shade.

"Come on," he said, extending a hand and gently pulling her up.

"Where are we going?" she asked, her voice still carrying the traces of her orgasm. His gaze met hers with an intensity that spoke volumes, revealing an unspoken hunger that mirrored her own desires. His intention was clear.

"We're going home."

>> NEXT PART

a/n: it did not occur to me the possibility of CCTV cameras in a planetarium lmao please excuse me. Also, the plan is to write one last part and an epilogue to wrap it all up.

.

taglist #1

@tereresrock @casthings @vader-is-hot @maevethelesbian @whereintheworldisspencerreid @reidverseq @niyahwhoreworld @l4venderia @theintrovertedthespian @lovelyxtom @tayzerr-72 @mulbsstuff @dorothleah @stevenknightmarc @prettyboyspenceee @gracesmusings @kalulakunundrum @fearlessmoony @r5court @simp4f1 @thecrazytealady @nyeddleblog @ghostheartbeat @comfortzonequeen @iiheartbowie @busy-buzzing @imtherealslimmoony @baeofevery @elamultistan @lyxennz @additi @donttrustlove @notahappystan @daisiesfor-mylove @pinkpantheris @jamieeboulos @thegeniusreider @bxtchopolis @kr-1-sta @emotionalsassqueen

@cowstealer427 @thollandsdarling @ghxst-heart @cashtons-wife @kyuupidwrites @you-sunshine @comboboo @sebastiansstanswhore @panic-monster @marimorena06 @alice-ace299 @uncle-eggy @bollzinurmouth @julezs-bl0g @ruhrohragu @eternally-passionate @kazuumii @spencerr3idd @withered-rxse @broken-pieces @siredtomsgilbert @kaiya3333 @furiousbanditnickelknight @pinkangelavenue @slay-and-gay @woahnotmecryingoverafanfiction @zeysartzone @frxcless @sadroses98 @luvmgg @sky2nd @jamiemuscatosslut @rorylover71 @comeonatmebruh @ww2whovian @silverhetdanes @daphnesutton @wonderstruck4llthew4yhome

PLEASE READ: If you already asked me to be added but you're not on the list OR you want to be added in the future, please comment on this post so I can see it. But make sure your blog can be searched or I can't tag you. Or if you want to be removed you can also tell me. Thank you :)

Don’t forget to interact with the story!

[saintmuses]

❝𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙝 𝙗𝙪𝙡𝙗 𝙤𝙛 𝙖 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙮 𝙘𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙧𝙖❞

Pairing:

Neil Lewis x Best Friend!Reader

Summary:

During one of their Friday sleepovers, Neil and his best friend decided to have a harmless photoshoot session where polaroids were involved which turned into something more.

Warning(s): SMUT. Nudity. Breast worship. Neil being down bad. Oral (m-receiving). This is filthy too. Minors, dni!

Word Count: 1.2k

A sound of a bright flash then a whirling sound of Polaroid emitting from the slot of the vintage camera that she had found in an antique store off the street where the Gumshoe Video store resided at.

Neil then snatched the print from the slot and moved it in a way that fanned itself to make the image appear on the sheet.

She giggled as he took a picture of her posing. “What are you going to do with them?”

“I’m going to save all the polaroids and put them in a book. You know, just for two of us.” His icy eyes twinkled as he shrugged, fiddling with the buttons.

There was a pause that caused her to realize he was thinking deeply of something that he may hesitate on requesting her.

“What is it, Neil?” She inquired softly, reaching for his forearm.

“Do…do you have anything revealing?” He swallowed mumbling the question.

“Like a lingerie?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, his cheeks flushed slightly. “Trying to do the femme fatale thing,” he explained, quickly adding, “you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.”

She trusted him, and with that decision, she swallowed, “okay.” Crawling off the mattress to stride over to her walk-in closet.

After the closet door was closed behind her, he propped himself against the headboard, he was shirtless and in his pajama pants.

He turned his head, breathing hitched after a few minutes to see her stepping out of the walk-in closet in a silk robe with lacy bralette and panties in the shade of amethyst.

He shifted to hide his hardening cock in his pajamas. “Oh wow.” He said breathlessly, staring at her with wide eyes.

She gave him a bashful smile before climbing onto the bed, and he quickly got onto his knees so he would have more control on angling the camera.

A few photos were printed.

He reached out, curling his index and middle fingers into the thin strap of the lace and dragged it over her shoulder and down her arm to reveal her skin. He inhaled sharply as he gazed at the sight of her breast before raising the Polaroid camera up to his face and pressed down the button to capture her chest and the lingerie lingering on the edge of the frame.

He held the camera in one of his hands as he stared down at her into her eyes, and he could not hold back anymore. He kissed her, effectively crossing the line, but she was kissing him back too.

Then he started trailing his lips down her jaw, pressing short feverish kisses against her skin. He then parted his lips as he reached for the curve of her neck and started to suck her skin long enough to leave a discolored spot.

He then repeated the process of giving kisses down her collarbone, making his way towards the swell of her breast that was not in the bralette.

He gave her breast a gentle lick before lathered her nipple with his tongue; sucking into his mouth vigorously as his hunger began to mount.

She pushed him onto his back, and he went down without any protestation. He realized with eyes widening that she was on a mission to pull down his pants when her hands landed on the waistline.

He bit down on his bottom lip as she dragged out his hardened cock, and he parted his thighs to let her slide in between to have an access.

He whimpered slightly when she laid the head of his cock against her tongue. Forcing eye contact as she kept her eyes on his. His attention was entirely on her mouth.

She tightened a fist around the base and stroked up the length of his shaft while her lips closed around him and suckled.

He aimed the camera towards her and his cock, capturing the moment where she began to suckle him. Once the print slid out of the machine, he placed them on the bed beside him before finally being able to maintain his attention on her with a soft pathetic whine. 

His brow furrowed and his grip in her hair tightened but was otherwise immobilized. She licked the head, stroked him once more, and tasted the precum on her tongue as she sucked him in deeper.

She closed her eyes, appreciating the way he pulsed in her mouth and grew even harder. She wasn't able to fit all of him in her mouth, but what she could do seemed to be having a strong effect on him. 

She withdrew him from her mouth and appraised his cock while stroking her hand along the full length, drawing back her saliva and coating him entirely. 

He moaned. 

She paused just before taking him back into her mouth, peering up to see anticipation it spurred in him.

Her tongue flicked the tip, curled around the head, and then she sucked him in as far as she would go.

She closed her eyes and hollowed her cheeks as she pulled sharply back. His breathing picked up, and his hips jutted into her in little restrained thrusts. She let go to hold him by the hips instead while she had let him fuck her mouth.

He groaned and thrust up, “baby.” He felt his cock brushing the back of her throat and he held her there. When he pulled her head off his cock, the bridge of spit connecting them urged him back in.

His hand tightened painfully in her hair and jerked her back onto his shaft deeper. She grunted from the motion but recovered immediately, positioning her head at a new angle as he stared down at her as he began to thrust into her mouth, pulling her into each one, and only releasing when she truly needed. 

He whined a little louder and threw his head back. “Your mouth is meant for my cock,” he mumbled before planting his feet in a firmer stance on the mattress as he fucked her mouth with less restraint. She could feel him slipping into her throat and focused entirely on suppressing her gag reflex. 

When he looked back at her, he angled her head up a little more, forcing her to lock eyes with him as tears glistened in her eyes. 

His hands gripped her scalp a little harder. It would be too easy to come down her throat. And oh, how such a look provoked him. She was panting, struggling between breaths.

Acknowledging this had been a mistake, as it caused his cock to swell a bit more as a sign of upcoming orgasm that nearly destroyed him. He threw his head back onto the pillow and moaned. Just a few more thrusts—

“Fuck,” he let out a drawn-out whine as cum began to fill her mouth in spurts.

Letting her pull away, he grabbed the vintage technology next to him and aimed it at her face. He took a photo of his cum on her tongue as she stuck it out for him.

Grabbing her face, he was able to pull her forward towards him, and with a final flash of the vintage technology, he pressed his lips against hers.

[rottenpumpkin13]

Sephiroth: quiet midnights, gleaming steel, faint incense smoke, the scrape of a whetstone, books lined perfectly on a bookshelf, cold rain against bare skin, polished black leather, bitter ginger tea at dawn, weighted blankets in winter, sharp ice crystals, scratched classical CDs, weathered angel statues with missing wings, sharpened pencils in neat rows, morning fog over empty streets, delicate frost patterns on windowpanes, steel-gray skies before snow, silent films in empty theaters, cat footprints on documents, mathematical equations, unopened mail, clean sword oil, abandoned chess pieces, mint tea leaves.

Genesis: spilled red wine on white papers, chipped maroon nail polish on piano keys, gold bangles clinking against wine glasses, vintage vinyl at dusk, steaming mulled cider with cinnamon sticks, smudged eyeliner after theater rehearsals, leather-bound books with gilded edges, dark chocolate with sea salt breaking under his teeth, dog-eared poetry collections, playing cards scattered across silk sheets, cherry candy staining his tongue red, cologne bottles on antique vanities, melted red candle wax on love letters, fresh ink bleeding through parchment, caramelized apple pie, packed jazz bars at 2am, velvet curtains, stage makeup, worn dance shoes, red leather gloves, theater tickets.

Angeal: petrichor on summer mornings, fresh ground coffee beans, sunrise training sessions, polaroid cameras with worn straps, mismatched lucky keychains, pencil sketches in margins, old photos in cracked leather wallets, soup simmering on stovetops, buzzing radio stations between cities, dappled sunlight through garden leaves, evening cicada songs, autumn leaves crushed underfoot, soft worn flannel shirts, pressed flowers, acoustic guitars, wrinkled maps with coffee stains, soil under fingernails, homemade bread, herb gardens, worn pottery, recipe books, wooden spoons, patched jeans, morning dew, pocket knives.

AGS: loud laughter, discarded pizza boxes, arguments dissolving into jokes, snorted milk, tangled legs under a blanket, whispers in a packed room, empty mugs littered around a table, quiet yawns, bitten apples, ring tones, a half-finished puzzle scattered across the floor, a messy kitchen, heads on each other's shoulders, rock-paper-scissors, scattered dice, sour candy, bumping elbows, the glow of a tv screen, borrowed hoodies, stolen phone chargers, dirty dishes, arms around shoulders, inside jokes.

[37sommz]

❁ : come le viole . . .

✼. masterlist — taglist — request. ✼. genre: smut. ✼. wc: 3.1k.

michaela's six years in italy pay off in her professional life. one area she didn't expect them to pay off is in her romantic life. in jenson's defense, anything michaela does gets him going.

✼. warnings: 18+ mdni, smut smut smut, jenson has a michaela speaking italian kink, unprotected sex, pretty tame but sweet regardless.

✼. notes: another filler chapter lol. don't think too hard about the date, it's completely arbitrary bc this is just a filler. i promise i have more actual plot, abu dhabi 2021 is next :)

000.⠀⠀OCTOBER 16, 2021    ›    Cagliari, Italy

Michaela leaned against the balcony railing, the Sardinian sun casting a warm glow over her taut, athletic frame. She squinted at the horizon, the sea a serene canvas of blues and greens that stretched to infinity. The salty breeze whispered through her hair, a gentle reminder of the world outside the sheltered bubble of the luxurious hotel room.

Her thoughts drifted to the race that had just concluded. She couldn't help but feel a pang of envy as she heard the distant roar of the crowd. The Extreme E circuit was a playground for champions, a place where Jenson could still indulge in his love for speed without the relentless pressure of Formula 1. The same pressure she faced every time she strapped into her own McLaren.

The door clicked open, and she spun around, her heart racing. Jenson strutted in, a boyish grin on his face and a sheen of adrenaline glistening on his skin. His blue eyes sparkled with excitement, and the sight of him made her pulse quicken.

"You did well, JB," she said, using his nickname with a playful smirk.

Jenson closed the distance between them, his arms wrapping around her waist. "Thanks, darling," he replied, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I wish you could've seen it in person. The track was insane."

Michaela smiled, her arms wrapping around his shoulders as he pulled her in closer. "I had a pretty good view from here," she said, gesturing to the TV behind her. "But I'll take your word for it. You looked like you were in your element."

Jenson chuckled, his gaze lingering on the oversized vintage Suzuka circuit shirt adorning her frame. "You know I can't resist a good race." His hands began to roam, gently caressing her hips, his thumbs brushing the waistband of her shorts as they dipped underneath the hem of her shirt. "But I missed you."

Michaela felt a flutter in her stomach as she met his eyes. "Missed me, or missed being in bed with me?" she teased, her voice low and eyes narrowed.

"Both, actually," Jenson confessed, his grin turning into a seductive smirk. "But right now, I'm thinking about the latter."

Michaela rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress her own smile. "Have you eaten? We should order room service before you pass out from exhaustion."

"Mmm, I could go for a pasta," Jenson said, his voice a low purr as his hands continued to roam. "But I'd much rather have dessert first."

Michaela playfully slapped his hand away, laughing. "Let's at least order something to eat first. I waited for you to comeback before I ordered." She stepped back and picked up the phone, her fingers dancing over the buttons as she dialed the front desk. "Buonasera," she greeted in flawless Italian, the language rolling off her tongue like a native. "Possiamo avere il servizio in camera, per favore?"

Jenson rose from his spot on the bed, watching her with a smoldering look in his eyes. "God, you're so sexy when you speak Italian," he whispered, his voice thick with desire. He stalked over to her, his breath warm against her neck as he nibbled gently on her earlobe. His hands slid around her waist again.

Michaela giggled, trying to keep her focus on the order. "Jenson, behave," she chided, though her voice lacked conviction. The feeling of his body pressed against hers was making it increasingly difficult to concentrate on anything else.

"Sì, questo è tutto. Addebitare alla camera, per favore. Grazie," she finished, hanging up the phone and turning to face him with a smirk. "Room service is on its way."

Jenson's gaze was unyielding, his eyes dark with want. "I don't care about room service," he murmured, his hands moving from her waist to cup her face. His thumbs traced her cheekbones, his eyes searching hers for any sign of protest. "Not when you're speaking Italian like that."

"I was just ordering food, Jense," she said with a playful laugh, though the heat in her voice betrayed her own growing arousal. She stepped closer, her hands sliding up his chest.

"But when you talk like that," Jenson whispered, his voice dropping an octave, "it's like you're speaking directly to my soul." His eyes searched hers, hunger plain in his gaze. "It's so intimate."

Michaela's laughter faded, replaced by a soft sigh as she leaned into his touch. "You're such a romantic," she said, her voice teasing. But she didn't move away.

Jenson leaned down, capturing her mouth in a kiss that was anything but gentle. His tongue danced with hers, a silent promise of the passion that awaited them. She melted into him, her arms winding around his neck as she responded with an eagerness that surprised even herself.

Michaela pulled away, breathless. "Room service will be here any minute," she murmured, though the protest was half-hearted at best.

"They can wait," Jenson said, his voice gruff with need. He scooped her up in his arms, her legs wrapping around his waist instinctively. She gasped as he carried her to the bed, laying her down with a tenderness that betrayed his urgency.

Their kisses grew more feverish, their bodies tangling together as if trying to become one. Jenson's hands roamed over her body, exploring every curve and line with a hunger that seemed insatiable. His touch sent sparks of pleasure shooting through her, and she arched into him, her own hands running through the blonde hair she had grown so fond of.

Michaela's racing heart hammered against her ribcage as Jenson's hand slipped under her shirt, his calloused fingers brushing against her bare skin. She gasped into his mouth, the sensation sending a shiver down her spine. He broke the kiss, his eyes smoldering as he stared down at her. "Keep speaking Italian to me," he urged, his voice thick with desire.

Michaela's breath was hot against his skin as she whispered sweet nothings into his ear, her words a mix of English and Italian that only served to heighten his desire for her. He felt his own passion mirrored in her touch, her hands roaming over his chest and down to his waistband, eager to feel all of him.

With a groan, Jenson lifted himself off her, standing to remove the last of his clothes. He watched her eyes follow the trail of his muscles, the desire in them making him feel like the luckiest man alive. He joined her on the bed again, their bodies a tangle of limbs and passion. Michaela reached for him, her hand wrapping around his length. He sucked in a breath, his eyes closing as she began to stroke him, her movements slow and deliberate. He felt the heat building, the tension in his body growing taut with every jerk of her wrist.

Her other hand found his chest, her nails digging in slightly as she guided him closer. He positioned himself between her legs, the tip of him teasing her entrance as an impatient hand brushed her panties to the side. The anticipation was almost unbearable, the heady mix of love and lust threatening to overwhelm them both.

Michaela looked up at him, her eyes filled with a raw, unbridled need. "Jenson," she murmured, her voice a soft plea. He took one last moment to savor the sight of her before he pushed inside her, filling her completely.

Her gasp was music to his ears, her nails digging into his back as he began to move. The rhythm was slow at first, almost tender, as if they were both trying to savor every second. But as the passion grew, so did their desperation. Their movements grew more urgent, more frenzied, each thrust and moan echoing around the room like a symphony of desire.

Jenson watched her face, her eyes squeezed shut as she fought for control. He leaned down, capturing her mouth with his, their tongues tangling together as their bodies found a rhythm that spoke of love and need. The feel of her, tight and wet around him, was intoxicating, and he could feel his climax approaching.

Michaela's nails dug into his back as she wrapped her legs around his waist, urging him deeper. Her breathy moans grew louder, and he knew she was ready for more. He picked up the pace, his strokes becoming more urgent as he felt her muscles begin to clench around him.

"So pretty," she hummed as she pulled his face away from the crook of her neck. Her thumbs tracing the lines of his jaw, feeling the stubble prickle against her skin. "Così, così carino." She repeated in Italian, her eyes fluttering closed as she lost herself in the sensation of his mouth on hers.

Michaela felt the warmth spread through her core as Jenson's hand slid down to cup her breast, his thumb brushing her hardened nipple through the thin fabric of her bra. The sensation was electric, and she arched her back, pushing herself closer to him.

"Talk to me, honey," she whispered seductively against his mouth, her voice thick with need. "Tell me how good it feels."

"God, it feels amazing," he managed to gasp out, his voice strained with effort. "You're so wet for me, so tight." His words were punctuated with each thrust, his voice growing hoarser with every passing moment.

Michaela's eyes fluttered closed, a soft smile playing on her lips as she absorbed his words. She felt his muscles tensing beneath her, the veins in his arms standing out as he pushed himself deeper into her. "Don't hold back," she encouraged, her own voice breathless. "Take me, I'm all yours, baby."

"Yeah?" He whispered back, blue eyes burning into hers, his thumb now tracing her bottom lip.

She leaned into his touch, taking the finger into her mouth eagerly. Her brown eyes never left his blue eyes as she sucked gently, the sight making him growl with need.

Jenson couldn't resist anymore, he leaned down and kissed her again, deep and passionate. Their bodies moved in sync, the sound of skin on skin music to their ears. His hands roamed over her, feeling the heat of her body, memorizing every inch of her. He felt her arching into him, her legs tightening around his waist, her breathing growing more erratic.

One hand reached for the top of her headboard as the other reached down to grasp at her thigh, pulling it up to hook over his hip and spreading her wide open to him. The new angle sent Michaela's eyes rolling back as he pushed deep inside her, a moan escaping her mouth as she felt herself stretch around him.

"Good girl," Jenson praised, his voice a low growl. The new angle allowed him to hit her g-spot with every thrust, sending waves of pleasure crashing through her. She couldn't help but whimper, her nails now scratching down his sides as the tension grew. "You take me so well. All the way in just like that."

Michaela's breath came in short gasps as she felt the beginnings of an intense orgasm building inside her. "Jense," she moaned, her eyes pleading for release. He knew she was close, and he wasn't far behind. His own orgasm was approaching like a freight train.

Jenson's grip tightened on her thigh as he picked up the pace, his hips slamming into hers. The headboard thumped against the wall in a steady rhythm, muffled by the thick walls. He could feel her body tightening around him, and it was all he could do to hold on.

Michaela's eyes snapped open, her pupils dilated with desire. She met Jenson's gaze, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as she whispered, "Dai, amore, fottimi più forte," urging him on in Italian.

A feral growl rumbled in his throat as he complied, his hips driving into hers with a force that sent the bed rocking against the floor. The headboard thumped a wild beat that matched the pounding of their hearts, the only music in the room. The sound of their passion filled the air, a symphony of moans and gasps that grew louder with every stroke.

Michaela's eyes never left Jenson's as she felt the climax building within her, his every movement sending her closer to the edge. She could see the same need reflected in his gaze, his eyes dark with desire and determination to bring her to the brink.

"Fuck, yes," he groaned, feeling the tension coil tighter within him.

Michaela's eyes rolled back, the pleasure reaching a crescendo as she felt Jenson's cock hit her in just the right spot. She knew she was close, so close she could almost taste it. "Need to come, Jenson," she begged, her voice a needy whine.

Jenson chuckled dryly, feeling her slip away deeper into the pleasure. "Say it nicely, love," he urged, his voice gruff with need. "Want to hear your pretty little mouth say it in Italian."

Michaela bit her lip, the challenge sparking something within her as she nodded. She met his eyes, her own smoldering with desire. "Per favore, lasciami venire, amore," she whispered, her voice thick with an accent that sent shivers down his spine.

Jenson's eyes flashed with pleasure, the Italian rolling off her tongue like a sweet, sweet promise. He felt the coil in his stomach tighten, his own orgasm close behind hers. "So fucking perfect, baby. You're so beautiful," he groaned, the words leaving his mouth almost involuntarily. He wanted to claim her, to show her how much she meant to him in every way possible.

"Fuck, baby, where do you want me?" he gritted out, his hips moving faster, his strokes deeper. She felt him swell inside her, the pressure building until she couldn't take it anymore.

"Anywhere, everywhere," she panted, her back arching off the bed. "Just don't stop, please." She practically begged, almost incoherent in the wave of her pleasure.

Jenson's eyes blazed with intensity, his thrusts becoming more powerful, his strokes more deliberate. He could feel her walls tightening around him, her breath hitching with every push. The sound of their bodies slapping together grew more frantic, the sweet sound of their passion heightening.

"Mouse," he murmured, his voice strained with effort. "I love how wet you are for me." His hand traveled down to her clit, his thumb circling the sensitive bud as he watched her face contort with pleasure. "You're going to come for me, aren't you?"

Michaela's breath hitched, her eyes locked on his as she nodded. "Yes," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Yes, Jense, please."

He took that as his cue, his thumb moving faster against her clit, his strokes deep and demanding. The tension built until it was almost unbearable, until she was writhing beneath him, her nails digging into his back. "Now, love," he urged, feeling her body tighten around him. "Come for me."

Michaela's eyes widened as she felt the orgasm crash over her, waves of pleasure washing away every thought, every worry. She screamed out his name, her body shaking with the intensity of her release. Jenson groaned, feeling her tighten around him, his own orgasm following closely behind. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, his teeth grazing her skin as he emptied himself inside her.

With a sigh of satisfaction, Jenson rolled over, taking her with him so she lay sprawled on top of him, her head on his chest. The steady beat of his heart was a comforting rhythm beneath her ear. They lay there, basking in the afterglow, the scent of their lovemaking mingling with the faint aroma of the sea breeze that filtered through the open balcony doors.

"You're going to have to teach me Italian," Jenson murmured after a moment of contented silence, his voice rumbling through his chest and into her ear. "Everything sounds better when you say it."

Michaela chuckled, her breath still coming in pants. "I'd be happy to," she said, pressing a kiss to the warm skin of his chest. Perched on his chest, she felt his heart beating beneath her, the steady rhythm matching the gentle rise and fall of his breath.

They laid there for a few moments, the only sound in the room the rustling of the hotel curtains dancing in the breeze from the open balcony. The sun painted stripes across the floor, casting a warm glow over their entwined bodies.

"I love you, Michaela," Jenson murmured, his hands stroking her back lazily as he felt her body relax into his. "I love you so much it hurts sometimes."

Michaela lifted her head to look at him, her eyes soft with affection. "I love you too, Jense," she said, her voice a quiet whisper. "More than I ever thought I could love someone." She placed a gentle kiss on his lips before rolling off him and standing up, stretching her toned body. The room service cart rattled in the hallway, a discreet knock at the door interrupting their intimate moment.

"I'll get it," Jenson offered as he reached for a robe, his chiseled abs glistening with a sheen of sweat. Jenson tied the robe around his waist, his movements slow and languid. "You go freshen up. I don't think I'll be able to focus on eating if I hear you speak Italian again." He winked, the mischief in his eyes unmistakable.

Michaela giggled and slipped into the bathroom, her cheeks flushed with pleasure and the aftermath of their passion. She glanced in the mirror as she tied her own robe together, her hair a wild mess around her face, and couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. As she washed up, she could still feel the echoes of Jenson's touch, the way his hands had roamed her body with such confidence and hunger.

When she emerged, Jenson had set up the room service on the small dining table. The sight of steaming plates of pasta and a bottle of wine brought a smile to her face. The wide, boyish smile that adorned his features drew a chuckle out of her.

"I didn't know you were such a romantic," she teased, walking over to him and placing a kiss on his cheek.

Jenson shrugged playfully. "You bring it out in me, sweetheart," he said, his voice warm and affectionate.

Michaela took her seat, her eyes sparkling with happiness as she surveyed the feast he'd arranged. The smell of garlic and tomato sauce filled the room, mingling with the faint scent of the ocean. They ate in contented silence, their eyes meeting frequently over their plates, the heat between them melting away into a calmer affection.

[alyrasturnz]

i cant stop talking to bf!matt x singer!reader on cai so pls make hcs coz its so cute

 ‎‎THE PERFECT PAIR

❐ summary » he is her unwavering audience, cheering her on from the wings, while she, with her melodic voice, serenades their shared dreams. together, they compose a symphony of mutual admiration and unwavering devotion, a testament to the beautiful balance they have found in each other.

❐ pairings » bf!matt x singer!reader

❐ warnings » none

❐ a/n && w/c » yay this is so cute! something small to keep yall fed before i release cologne • 574

bf!matt who always makes sure to attend every single one of your concerts, no matter how far he has to travel. he wants to be your biggest fan and unwavering support.

bf!matt who surprises the you with handwritten notes and flowers backstage before every performance, reminding you how proud he is and how much he believes in you.

bf!matt who loves to brag about your achievements to everyone he knows. he takes immense pride in your success and never misses an opportunity to share it with others.

bf!matt who often helps you with your songwriting process. he may not be a professional, but his insights and emotional support are invaluable, often sparking new ideas and inspiration.

bf!matt who creates a playlist of all your songs and listens to it constantly. he knows every lyric by heart and often sings along, even when he's alone.

bf!matt who is the first to hear any new songs you write. he feels honored to be your trusted confidant and offers constructive feedback while showering you with praise.

bf!matt who plans special date nights to celebrate the release of new music or successful concerts. these moments are filled with love and appreciation, making you feel cherished.

bf!matt who captures candid photos and videos of you during your performances and shares them on social media, showcasing his pride and love for them to the world.

bf!matt loves to surprise you with thoughtful gifts that reflect your music. whether it's a vintage record player, a custom-made guitar strap, or a personalized microphone, his gifts are always meaningful.

bf!matt stands by your side during interviews and public appearances, offering silent support and encouragement. his presence is a comforting reminder of your strong bond.

bf!matt who loves to surprise you with spontaneous road trips to places that inspire your music. these trips are filled with laughter, new experiences, and endless creativity.

bf!matt who has a special way of calming your nerves before a big performance. his gentle words and reassuring hugs always manage to ease your anxiety.

bf!matt who learns to play your favorite instruments just so you can jam together. these impromptu music sessions strengthen your bond and create beautiful memories.

bf!matt who is always the loudest one cheering in the crowd, making sure you know he's there, supporting you with all his heart.

bf!matt who keeps a scrapbook of all your achievements, concert tickets, and special moments. it's a tangible reminder of your journey together and how far you've come.

bf!matt who loves to dance around the living room with you to your favorite songs. these playful moments are filled with joy and laughter, creating a sense of pure happiness.

bf!matt who often writes little notes and leaves them in your guitar case or music sheets, reminding you how much he loves you and believes in your talent.

bf!matt who plans surprise parties to celebrate your milestones, inviting all your closest friends and family to share in the joy of your success.

bf!matt who makes sure to capture every significant moment on camera, creating a visual diary of your journey together. these photos and videos become cherished memories.

bf!matt whose eyes sparkle with pure joy and pride whenever he hears a song written about him. the emotion in his gaze is undeniable, and it fills your heart with warmth and love.

[iboatedhere]

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

I went with a photographer/model AU.

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

Where he ended up was someplace much softer.

–

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

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

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

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

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

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

–

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

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

Alex rolls his eyes and lines up another shot.

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

So goes the fashion industry.

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

Alex blinks through the viewfinder. “What?”

“Did you get the shot?” He asks.

“Oh. Yeah. Probably.”

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

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

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

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

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

“May I see?”

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

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

“We can fix it in post?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

–

They let me keep the glasses, by the way.

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

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

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

????? Alex sends back.

The ones from the shoot, the next message reads.

This is Henry.

Fox.

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

Prove it, Alex says.

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

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

Pez…..???????

Percy Okonjo.

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

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

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

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

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

Until Sunday, Alex tells him. Why?

Doing anything tonight?

Alex blows out a breath.

Not yet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You just got here.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

[concreteburialplot]

VIRALITY // 12

12 - Liar, Liar*

pairing: nicholas ruffilo x fem!oc [vallie]

more: chp 11 // masterlist | crossposted: ao3 | word count: 14.7k (strap in)

Summary: Following Noah and Vallie's thrift shop adventure, Vallie faces the consequences of her actions. After the launch of their new music video, Vallie realizes she might not like what she wished for. A pivotal decision reshapes the group's dynamics, leading to a significant change in the connection between a specific pair.

warnings: alcohol, bratty noah, smoking, heartache, yearning, regret, jealousy, unprotected sex, cream pie x2, oral (f receiving), cum eating kinda?, angry nick but also soft nick???, fluffy???, she's just a girl ok, mediocre writing lol, sorry this has taken 500 years, my apology is that it's long as fuck, 18+ MDNI

Disclaimer - This story is AU since it does not follow actual timelines or events. The band here is still fairly small & does things entirely on their own with no other support.

Reminder; Minor band crossovers (greta van fleet / chase atlantic) to supply side characters :)

don't like it don't read it. don’t be mean for no reason & let others enjoy things thnx :)

VALLIE

When Noah and I walk up the gravelly incline to the warehouse, the rest of the band and Bryan are all on their phones lounging on different surfaces - chairs with feet propped on tables, against the brick wall, spread out on the floor. Boredom was an understatement. 

“Well, took you guys long enough.” Grumbles Jolly. “What did you get lost picking out scarves?”

My heart skips a beat at the coincidental wording. “Sorry, we really had to dig to find anything.” I mumble quickly, throwing the plastic shopping bags on the ground.

“Well, did you find anything good?” Jolly asks.

“Oh, we found something good alright.” Noah replies, shoving his hand into a plastic bag to retrieve the cursed fedora.

I roll my eyes and playfully smack his arm, “Shut up.”

“No.” He says matter-of-factly, with a popped hip and a hand on his waist. “It’s your fault, you put it on my head.”

“Yeah whatever.” I laugh and wave off his silliness.

I suddenly feel all eyes in the room on us accompanied by an awkward stillness. Of course they’d be thrown off, we could barely be in a room together before we left, why wouldn’t this be strange?

I glance up for a split second before digging into the bags and find Nicholas’ eyes watching us intently. His brows low and eyes sharp.

In my tummy swirls a feeling so closely reminiscent of guilt, similar to when I was with Kras last night. But neither make any sense. Nicholas and I aren’t anything, it shouldn’t matter. Kras and I are just friends. And Noah and I definitely are not anything. And yet, here he is looking angry and here I am feeling guilty.

After handing out the thrifted clothes and a wardrobe change, the boys come out in their new clothes, and they look perfect. The pieces we chose embody each one of them flawlessly. They fit the direction Noah wants for the music video but they’re rather simple. Folio’s is the most basic in a plain black shirt, black jeans, and his sneakers. Jolly’s is a black long sleeve button down, tight black pants paired with his hefty combat boots. Noah’s outfit was centered around the black peacoat we found as the statement piece with a black turtleneck beneath it, black pants and boots. We even picked up something for Bryan even though he was staying behind the camera - he got a vintage Kodak t-shirt, which he thought was “rad as hell”. 

Since I showed up in last night’s sweats, I figured I’d pick up an outfit as well. I found a grey sundress. It’s something I would normally only wear in casual settings, but I wanted to be comfy and it was the only halfway cute thing in the thrift shop.

The outfit I picked out for Nicholas was the best one, but I may be biased. It’s a thin black sweater with thumb holes atop a black turtleneck paired with baggy, strappy pants and finished off with black leather combat boots.

With the new uniforms, the band and crew seem to have a reinvigorated morale. It did exactly what I needed it to do, it gave them the spark they needed to bring the music video to life. 

We spend our time running the song over and over while Bryan gets shots from all angles. I got some content for posting and even posed the boys for some social media trends, which they all hated except Folio, and Bryan in the background. Since I was done gathering content, I sat at the plastic picnic table on the far side of the warehouse diagonal from the makeshift stage while they continued to shoot slightly different variations.

I plug my phone and camera into my Macbook to import the photos and videos I took to begin editing them and schedule them for posting.

“Vallie.” I hear a voice call amongst mumbling between a take.

I snap up to match the voice to the source: Noah.

“What’s up?” I respond, half expecting to be met with some sort of criticism or snarky remark.

“Were you paying attention to this last take?” He questions, but not in an accusatory way that I’d normally anticipate, just genuine curiosity.

“A little, why?”

“What did you think of the intro?”

A hush blankets the room and the rest of them look between us as if they’d seen a ghost. I’m glad we’re finally kind of getting along but I wish he wouldn’t make it so obvious. Especially in front of Nicholas. The odd feeling in the room dances a chill up my arms leaving goosebumps behind.

“Oh um, I liked it? It was cool.” Truthfully, I’m not sure that I did like it, but I just wanted to move on from being in the spotlight.

He gives me a wide, genuine grin like a kid in the middle of a playground, “Sick, I thought so too.”

I glance over at Bryan, who is slowly but surely becoming my lifeline in these situations. He offers a ‘I don’t know either but just roll with it?’ look with a brow wiggle and a barely noticeable shrug.

Mid-shoot everyone needed some sort of touch up. I somehow had my job description expanded to include wardrobe and makeup.

The one I dreaded the most was Nicholas.

I walk over to him, mute, focusing my eyes straight forward which for me happens to be his chest. I keep my gaze away from his eyes as I fix the collar of his cardigan.

He too keeps his focus off of me.

“Sorry I acted like an ass earlier.” He says sounding partially sincere, partially grumpy. “It was out of line, and I’m sorry.”

I clear my throat. An apology was the last thing I expected and the last thing I deserve. “It’s okay.”

A quiet pause fills the small space between us.

“So, you’re seeing someone?” He questions casually but I can tell it’s anything but casual.

I press my lips together contemplating if I really want to commit this hard to the ruse. But Kras is right, and my gut is right. No matter how much I want to stay entangled with him, it can’t continue. I don’t know how well this action plan is going to work, but I have to try.

“Yes.” I lie with fake confidence. “Kind of.”

He takes a moment to process my response which makes me question how good of a job I did with lying. Finally, he nods, his eyes still locked on something past the opening of the warehouse.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve told you.” I sweeten the lie.

“I guess that’s a good thing then, you know, for our jobs and all.” His voice light, as if he’s purposefully making it seem more nonchalant than it is. I know I hurt him, I can hear it in his voice. Whether it was his heart or his ego that I hurt, I’m not sure but all I know is that we went too far. “It just would’ve been nice to know.”

The painful twist in my chest confirms that I made the right decision to stick to the plan. I'm already so invested in him that it hurts; I can’t imagine how much worse it would be if I let myself fall any deeper.

I swallow the very faint lump in my throat and flatten out the thin material resting on his chest. Spending another night with him was a bigger mistake than I realized because just the warmth of him beneath my fingertips makes me want to melt right into him. I wish I didn’t know what he felt like, what he sounded like, what he tasted like. Suddenly I want to take everything back. I want to unkiss him, unfuck him, unknow him. In the span of knowing them and being on their team, I’ve regretted it about 75% of the time but there, standing in front of him, it is a solid 110%.

I wish I had just heard them on the radio and found myself at a show, 

or met them in passing during industry events,

or maybe bumped into him in a coffee shop where he suggests his favorite latte,

or literally any other scenario that would grant me the luxury of just reaching up and kissing him without feeling confliction or guilt. 

The reality of the whole situation hits me all at once and my entire mood shifts abruptly, in a way I’ve never let happen while I work. I’m normally exceptionally skilled in the art of separating my emotions from most other things but this cuts through all of that. He lowered my walls more than anyone ever had and reached a part of me I’ve never let someone do before. I swallow hard and blink the burning in my eyes away. The last thing I need is for him to see my eyes full of tears. 

So, I do what I think makes the most sense. I yank each edge of my mouth into a tight-lipped smile and step back to hold out an overly professional hand, “Friends?” 

He nearly grimaces at the word and begrudgingly snakes his hand into mine, gripping it firmly and giving it a shake. “Whatever you want, Vallie.” He grumbles sarcastically before walking off back to the set. 

He leaves me with my hand vacant and my eyes blinking at the wall he just stood in front of. I knew he wasn’t happy with me, but I didn’t know we’d end up starting over.

The music video that Noah had fast tracked was finally finished regardless of what the others felt. It was filmed and edited by Bryan with Noah glued to his side the whole time to make sure it followed his “vision” for it perfectly. It was hyper tuned into the details and nuances Noah was looking to cultivate for the prematurely released song.

Two weeks later, I hit post on the music video with the band scattered around the rehearsing studio, celebrating with beers and laughter. I roll my eyes playfully at the happy, excited actions that ensue behind me but bite down on my lip to keep myself from smiling. While it’s not everything they or I wanted, it’s still a damn good video and I’m proud of them for it. 

All entanglements aside, it’s the first time that I’ve felt like I truly helped them achieve something great. Their growth and publicity had been steady but incredibly slow despite all of my best efforts. Their initial boom from the band going viral months ago plateaued. I’ve been chalking it up to the lack of content, but the faint fear of chronic stagnation has been creeping up my ribs every so often. It’s something I warned them from the beginning - “Anyone can go viral, but it won’t last.” I recall telling them at the very start. “Don’t get attached to the numbers.” I told them that it burns bright for a split second then gets snuffed out by the next big thing to come along. But they didn’t listen to me, and I can see the disappointment and fear worsening in Noah’s features with each day that passes. It’s all made me wonder if there was even a place in the scene for them, or if what their label is trying to accomplish is possible. It made me question my ability to execute the task handed to me.

I posted all of the music video promotions across all forms of media and posted some of the pre-filmed short form content onto TikTok and Instagram. “Alright well, your part is done now, I’m just gonna keep working.”

I stand, beginning to gather all the papers scattered over the table. “With all the teasing I posted for the video and all the extra content we filmed, engagement has gone up by about 5%. I estimate it going up by about another 10-15% for the next couple of weeks while the music video gains traction.” I dropped the edges of the paperwork against the table a couple times to align them into a neat stack. “You’ve gained a significant amount of followers as well, at least compared to before the promo content.”

“Aw Vallie,” Bryan throws an arm around my shoulders pulling me into a side hug. “Is this your way of saying we did a good job?” 

A small smile tugs at one edge of my lips, “I’m just saying that the music video is projected to do really well.” I sink my teeth into my lip again, this time to keep from speaking but it fails. “And, I think you guys did a great job.” I rush the words out at the end.

The large grin is nearly identical across the five boys' faces, each one unique in their features, but the glow of finally birthing a new project is potent in all their smiles.

As they mingle about, I return my focus to my screen and sit back down. Likes and comments begin to pour in, faster than expected. The promo posts over the past couple weeks built up a significant amount of anticipation and excitement, I just didn’t expect it to gain momentum so fast. Compared to other clients, this engagement is nothing, a couple hundred comments within the first 30 minutes, but for them, it’s huge. I decide to keep it to myself for now to not get their hopes up too high since the numbers could plateau quickly. 

But before I exit completely, my eyes catch a couple comments that churn my stomach unexpectedly.

nobody told me the singer was so hot !!

damn he’s fine as fuck

oh my god Noah is so !!!!

the whole band is fine wtf 

god that bassist is sooo sexy

My eyes narrow and my teeth involuntarily clench at the last comment. A dull ache throbs in my chest at the words, a feeling I’m not quite sure I’ve ever experienced before. 

My plan to leverage their looks was working. This is exactly what I wanted, what I held meetings for, what I fought for, what I was hired for - so why does it suddenly feel like a loss?

I glance at Nicholas, who’s joking with the others, his face lit up with a carefree smile. My heart aches but, this is exactly what I wanted for him. For them. Yet, the jealousy gnaws at me, sharp and unrelenting. I want to be happy for them, I should be happy for them. But each comment feels like a tiny dagger, reminding me of what I’ve deprived myself of.

I exhale and close the lid to my laptop. I tap along the table just trying to shake my head from whatever confusion is clouding it. I just need to get out.

The group talks amongst themselves as they celebrate, and I inevitably fade into the background. I start gathering all my belongings to throw into my tote bag to hopefully make a quiet exit.

“You liked the music video?” A voice startles me from across the round table. 

I look up to find Noah. I quickly glance to the red solo cup he’s holding carefully in his hand. It makes me wonder what’s in it and if it will lead to the same aftermath I've seen before with a drunken Noah. It’s only when I look around that I realize that each of them has a drink in hand and they’ve put music on. 

“Yeah.” I shrug, “I think you guys did good.” 

“We, you mean.” He corrects.

“We?” 

“Yeah. You helped pick out the outfits and did all the promo stuff, did you not?” He raises a brow. 

“Yeah? I guess I did.” 

Noah rests his arm on a nearby high-top table, taking a sip of his drink. “We made a deal, you and I a while ago, do you remember it?” He questions.

I silently filter through our meetings in my mind. While working together we’ve made many deals, but I land on the one I know he’s talking about and a smile creeps across my lips. “‘I’ll do my job well, if you do yours.’” 

An unexpected wide grin pulls at his mouth, “Well, I think we both did our jobs well here.” 

He was right, we did. Looking back at the meeting just a few months ago seems so juvenile now. Noah was so angry about me being brought on to the crew and while I wouldn’t say he’s necessarily thrilled that I’m here now, I can tell that I’ve grown on him. I proved myself to him, at least a little bit. 

“Yeah, we did.” I nod with a genuine smile, “Proud of us.” 

He wrapped an arm around me and gave me a squeeze, smiling down at me. “Me too.”

I leaned into him and caught a glimpse of Nicholas watching us both. The look on his face was flat and filled with an unreadable expression. 

My eyes flicker down immediately to avoid him then pull away from Noah’s grasp. He then goes on to ramble about music and the album, I’m not quite sure why he’s over here talking to me and not to the rest of them but, here I am. His words fade into the background as I look past him to spot Nick again. This time he’s caught up in some excited conversation between Brian and Folio. His wide smile meets his eyes filling them with such happiness as he laughs. His tattooed fingers interrupt the condensation on a beer bottle and his hair is gathered up into a low bun. He looks breathtaking and it suddenly fills me with a sadness I don’t think I’ll be able to beat here. 

I’ll never have the opportunity to be with him at a party like this, or out to dinner or have a normal, run-of-the-mill relationship. There’s a bit of heartbreak in watching him ensue in an interaction we may never have now that I’ve ruined everything.

But I ruined it for a reason, my brain reminds me.

I catch Nicholas’s eye. His smile falters, and for a moment, I think he senses my unease. I quickly look away, swallowing the lump in my throat.

The ache that makes home in my ribcage does not care for reason; its only concern is pain. It suddenly becomes unbearable, and I need to leave, now. I need to go home, I need to fucking get of out here.

 “I’m sorry, Noah but I have to go.” I hurriedly throw my bag over my shoulder and snatch my keys.

“What? Why? Is everything okay?” Noah asks, concerned.

“Yeah, I just… I need to go,” I say, my voice wavering as I avoid his gaze. “I have an important meeting I have to be home for.” My hand tightens around my keys so hard that the jagged edges dig into the flesh of my palm.

I stand up, the room spinning slightly as I do, despite not having anything to drink. I head for the door, each step feeling heavier than the last. I can feel Nicholas’s eyes on me, but I don’t dare look back.

Pushing through the front door, I take a deep breath of the cool night air, but it does little to calm the storm inside me. I walk quickly to my rental car, fumbling with the keys as tears blur my vision. Finally, I manage to unlock the door and slide into the driver’s seat. 

As I drive home, the tears flow like rivers down my cheeks. The ache in my chest is relentless, a constant reminder of what I’ve given up and the lies I’ve told. I made my choice, and now I have to live with it. But the pain doesn’t care about reason or decisions. It only knows how to hurt.

I don’t stop driving until I reach my Airbnb. I stumble inside, dropping my bag on the floor and collapsing onto the couch. The tears flow freely now as I sink into the furniture, wishing things could be different but knowing they’ll never be. As much as I’d like to, I can’t undo my decision nor change the reasons behind it. As long as I work for them, Nick and I can never be anything more than just friends. Maybe in another life, there’s a him and I that work, but it’s not this one.

It doesn’t matter how much it hurts seeing him at events, or getting comments in videos, or even just being around him. He’s not mine and he can’t be. I’m not what he wants anyway, his career is just taking off the last thing he needs is to be entangled with someone who wants more than just sex. Is that even what I want? I barely even have time to fucking cry in the car, how would I balance a relationship?

Mourning the loss of what could’ve been is hard, but an inevitable breakup would be worse. However, just because I chose the lesser of two evils doesn’t mean it’s easy.

I glance at the time on my watch and scramble when I realize I’m late for my meeting. Unfortunately, I didn’t lie to Noah about that.

Flipping open my laptop, I’m right on time when the zoom call rushes in. I wipe the remnants of my tears and allow myself one more sniffle before answering.

The bright, shining faces of my original clients light up the screen. With drinks and cigars in hand, they greet me with their usual exuberance. They’re getting one last party in before they leave for tour soon. It’s the first tour I haven’t joined them on since working for them. The realization that I’m not going with them mingled with the feelings I just ran away from only worsens the pain in my torso. There’s nothing more I wish to do than to just run off with them to Europe and forget all about this mess with Nick. But I have too much on my plate to be touring with them right now, so I’m working remotely for them temporarily.

Their naturally cheery demeanors lift my spirits, and while it is still a work call, they always seem to make work fun. It makes me wish even more that I was going with them. Working for them has always been easy and enjoyable. The stark contrast between them and Omens is jarring. While we do have a longer history, Greta has always felt comforting, uplifting and loving – like family. I always feel valued and appreciated, and I never have to question my belonging with them.

Omens, on the other hand, has been nothing but complicated, painful, and uncomfortable. Instead of feeling like I’m part of something, I often feel like I’m navigating through a minefield between Noah’s volatility and Nick’s complexity. It’s hard to feel motivated when the environment is so hostile, and it leaves me questioning my place and purpose. Up until recently that is – things seem to be looking up now that Noah and I are getting along.

Comparing the two bands makes me long for the simplicity and warmth of Greta even more. The comfort and camaraderie I immediately feel when answering the zoom only highlights the cold, challenging reality of working with Omens. It’s a reminder of what I’m lacking and a painful acknowledgment of the complication of my current situation. The situation I put myself in.

Yet, Noah’s words ring in my ears, “We did our jobs well.” Perhaps it’s not as bleak as it once was. The memory of our truce plants a seed of hope in my chest. Maybe Bryan was right, that they just need time to come around.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost!” The bassist, Sam, jokes, pulling me out of my thoughts. The bright white of my screen flashing on my pale face in the darkness of my living room can’t be doing me any favors.

“You need a drink, Val?” Jake, the other long-haired guitarist asks, raising an enticing drink in a short glass.

“Maybe a smoke? You are in California after all.” The shaggy-haired singer, Josh, teases.

I force a smile and shake my head. “I would kill for both of those right now. Just a fucking exhausting day.”

“I know, our girl’s makin’ it big, taking on new bands, new quests.” Jake states in a dramatic, faux-English accent. “On to new horizons.” His arm splays out theatrically to a non-existent skyline.

“Leavin’ us behind!” Sam adds loudly in a whiny tone as he takes a sip of his cocktail.

The last words shoving a sword into my gut. Maybe Nick isn’t the only loss I’m mourning. Working for Greta has consumed my entire life for years, they’re the closest thing to family I’ve got. Perhaps not being engulfed in them constantly has left me lonely.

I roll my eyes lightheartedly and shake my head, “I could never leave you guys, you know that.” Clearing my throat, I change the subject. “How are you guys feeling about the tour?”

Their excitement is infectious, and I find myself relaxing a bit as they talk about their plans and the cities they’ll visit. For a moment, I forget about Nick and the tangled mess of emotions he brings.

“Hey, Val!” Josh shouts, raising a glass snapping me out of my haze. “We’re going to miss you on this one!”

“Yeah, it won’t be the same without you,” The quiet drummer, Danny, chimes in.

I force a smile, trying to push the sadness aside. “I’ll miss you guys too. But I’ll be there in spirit, and we’ll keep in touch. You know I’ll be checking in every day.”

They laugh and raise their glasses in a toast, their contagious energy making it a little easier to breathe.

The boys filter out, saying their goodbyes to entertain the other guests at their party.

“Yeah, I’ll catch up to you guys later. I have to ask Vallie about something.” Sam waves the boys away.

He turns in his chair to face me, a look of concern washed over his face as he tucks a chunk of long hair behind his ear. “Are you okay? You seem a bit off?” He asks softly.

I take a deep breath, trying to steady my voice. "I'm fine, Sammy. Just a lot going on."

He looks at me for a long moment, his puppy-dog eyes filled with understanding. "You know you can talk to me, right? If you ever need anything. We're all going to miss you on this tour, but we understand why you can't come."

I nod, "I know. Thanks, Sam," I reply, with a tight smile. "I appreciate it."

Under other circumstances, I would maybe try to talk to them but they’re so excited for Europe, I can’t possibly weigh them down with anything serious.

He gives me a reassuring smile. "Take care of yourself, okay? And if you need to vent or anything, just call. We're all here for you, we love you a lot."

"Thanks," I say again, feeling a lump form in my throat. "I will. I love you guys too."

With one last nod, Sam ends the call, leaving me alone with my thoughts and letting reality crash back in. I close my laptop and lean back in my seat, staring at the other side of the vacant couch. The room feels emptier than before, the silence more suffocating. I can’t shake the feeling of being left behind, both professionally and personally.

I set my laptop on the coffee table and pull a blanket over my body in hopes that it would help me disappear. I curl up in the corner of the couch with my knees up to my chest. I haven’t felt heartache like this since high school and it’s over something that was never even serious. My mind keeps drifting back to Nick, to the hurt and anger in his eyes when I pushed him away. I know it was the right decision, but the pain is parasitic in a way I was never prepared for.

I blink at the blank wall in front of me. I’m not home, I’m not with friends or anyone I know. I work for a band that half hates me most days, I fell for a boy I can’t have and I’m staying in a pay-by-weekly Airbnb. I’m alone in a city I hate, in a home that’s not my own with people who barely like me. That’s when I realize that perhaps heartache isn’t the only pain that sits heavy in my heart – it’s also the weight of loneliness that’s been consuming me, rotting me from the inside out.

Only when I acknowledge the seclusion is when it wraps around me like a suffocating shroud, seeping into my very core and eroding my sense of self.

I close my eyes and let out a long, shaky sigh, trying to steady my racing thoughts. I have to keep moving forward, despite the overwhelming difficulty and the sadness in my bones. There’s a faint flicker of hope buried somewhere beneath the despair, a small, stubborn, workaholic part of me that refuses to give up. For now, I hold on to that glimmer, however faint, and vow to take things one step at a time.

This was the 4th rehearsal in a row that I’ve attended this week, and while it never gets old watching their sets, the content becomes repetitive. So, while the boys are playing and Bryan snaps shots of them, I scroll through Zillow.

I don’t even notice that they’re done until Nicholas is beside me cracking a water bottle open. “What’re you lookin’ at?” He asks. Slowly but surely, we’ve been making our way back up to being friendly, despite the break down I had weeks ago after the music video launch. If I just focus on the work, I can almost stifle down our history. Almost.

“Oh shit, you scared me.” I chuckle but it soon fades with the frustration that’s built up over the past couple days. “Augh, I have to find an apartment or something because this Airbnb is getting so expensive. My other client’s tour just started, and I just took on another band, so I’m stuck here for a while. But I can’t fucking find an apartment building that doesn’t have a waitlist before next fall.”

“Shit sucks around here.” Chimes in Jolly from the corner taking a sip of his Gatorade.

“Here let me see.” Nick swivels my laptop towards him before I have a chance to stop him. He holds his tongue between his lips with his brows furrowed, like he’s focused on some super spy mission. He scrolls for a while, adds some filters, scrolls, takes more filters out, then turns the laptop back to me. “Ta da!” He smiles his signature grin and it’s nice to see it in my direction again.

“Whoa, how the fuck did you find that!” My eyes nearly pop out of my head as I scroll through the listing, it having almost everything I was looking for. “Oh my god, they’re doing a showing for a perfect place right now, I gotta go.” I hastily begin packing my things up, haphazardly throwing all my scattered belongings into my tote.

“Whoa whoa,” Halts Jolly, “You’re not going alone.”

I furrow my brows at him, confused, “What do you mean?”

“Listen, do you know how unsafe it is for a woman to go to realty showings alone?” His voice is so filled with genuine concern and a splash of paranoia.

“You need to stop watching so much true crime dude.” Folio rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, he’s obsessed.” Bryan adds with a pointed thumb towards the long-haired man. 

I blink up at Jolly who’s face is dead serious. “We’re coming with you.”

I normally wouldn’t let men tell me what to do or how to do it, but maybe Jolly is right. Men are dangerous especially around here and I have also heard horror stories about women going to check out a house and it turning out to be a sketchy place with an equally creepy man.

“Okay.” I nod. “Fine.”

Looking over the four of them, I realize that Noah had already disappeared. He’s been cutting out immediately after each rehearsal, so I think nothing of it.

“I got nothing better to do.” Shrugs Nicholas. I don’t look too much at him because if I did, I would notice the strain behind his eyes - one that looks both pained and conflicted. 

Arriving at the open house, I walk around the small loft, letting my fingers trail over the cracked railing of the stairs. The apartment is smaller, dingier and dustier than advertised. When I make it upstairs, the 4 are up there already. I catch them looking unimpressed, almost disgusted at the place but immediately feign impression for my sake.

“It’s…pretty nice, Vallie.” Says Folio, with a forced smile.

“Oh, spare me, it’s a dump.” I sigh, defeated. “The asking price is like double with all the fees and shit. It’s ridiculous.” I rub two fingers into my temple. “I don’t know what I’m gonna fucking do.”

There’s a bit of silence filled with pitiful faces from the group. Nicholas’ eyes look focused but lost in thought. Before any of them could speak, Bryan perks up. 

“My old room in the house is empty since I moved out last year. Why doesn’t she just move in with you guys?” He suggests as if it’s the most obvious answer. 

My mouth nearly falls open at the insane suggestion. The trio’s focus snaps to him with the most shocked and betrayed looks on their faces, brows raised and jaws open. 

“What?” I ask for clarification, because he couldn’t possibly be serious.

Bryan ignores their reactions. “Exactly what I said. It just makes sense? You’re with them all the time.”

“I uh-“ I falter, somewhat overwhelmed with the four of them looking at me. “I mean, it really seems like that’s a group decision…”

“I’m cool with it.” Folio surprisingly speaks up first, “We do have the spare room and we could use the extra rent money. You take a lot of Ubers to get to us anyway, so.”

For once Folio seemed to be cooperative, nice even. Maybe they are warming up to me afterall.

Jolly sighs heavily, “They have good points. It would be convenient but… Noah’s not going to be happy.”

Anxiety wins over the excitement dying to bloom in my stomach as I look over and meet Nick’s gaze. His eyes contain the same pained and confused look as before. He’s conflicted.

“I couldn’t give less of a fuck about what Noah wants. He’s outnumbered 4-1.” Nick snaps. “She needs a place, and we have one.”

I tug at my lip and contemplate my options. This would be the easiest and cheapest path. “Okay fine. Just for now. I’m gonna keep looking so I don’t overstay my welcome.” I meet eyes with each one sternly. “Thank you.”

I’m grateful for the offer but I can’t help but be nervous about being so close to Nicholas all of the time. The room I’d be staying in is the empty room between Noah and Nicholas’ rooms. I’d be between the two I would least like to be around. I contemplate backing out for a brief moment but quickly remember how much the Airbnb is costing me weekly. As much as I value my independence and solitude, it’s just not worth the cost and isn’t sustainable. The last thing I ever want to do is live with them, but it seems to be the only good option right now.

A week later, the boys help carry the last of my boxes up the stairs while I warn them about how if they break anything they’ll be paying for it.

Nick, Jolly, and Folio are all out of breath as they set down my boxes.

“Jesus, how do you have so many boxes of stuff from that tiny Airbnb?” Folio asks, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

I shrug, “I had some of my stuff from home shipped out to me, since I’m staying in Cali longer than I expected.”

Jolly and Folio filter out leaving me alone with Nicholas. I’m immediately on my toes around him. Just being in the house with him is difficult. The only other two times I’ve been here, we’ve slept together - once on the couch downstairs and another in the room beside us now. It’s hard not thinking about having him that way again with those reminders all around me. The memories pack a punch not just in my core but in my heart as well. We’ve just started to get back to normal after our little falling out. But what even is back to normal with us? Were we ever really normal?

“Do you need help unpacking?” He asks though it doesn’t seem forced or ingenuine.

I ponder the offer as I shift on my feet but ultimately shake my head. “Not now. I don’t know if I’m going to fully unpack yet, since I’m still looking for another place.”

He nods, seeming somewhat unhappy about my response. “Okay well, if you need help with anything, let me know.”

“Okay, I will. Thank you.” I scratch my arm anxiously and pause before I speak again. “I feel bad… I know Noah’s unhappy because I’m here.”

Nicholas sucks in a breath. “Yeah, he’s not happy. But I don’t really know what else to say to him. Maybe you should talk to him.”

I let out a laugh. “Yeah fucking right. I’m sure I’m the last person he wants to talk to right now.”

“You never know. It might help.” He steps towards the door to leave. “I think we’re gonna order Chinese for dinner. You cool with that?”

I nod and he reciprocates before leaving the room downstairs. 

I take a deep breath and shake out the nerves from my hands as I walk to Noah’s door. I give it a knock and wait for a response.

“Come in.” He calls and I peek through the cracked door.

He rolls his eyes and glares at me. “Great, it’s you.”

“You know you don’t have to be like that.” I say calmly while I push the door open more and lean against the door frame.

He doesn’t even look at me and keeps his eyes on the TV across from his bed where he lays. His hands are diligently working on a gaming controller. I can’t help but notice how his long-tattooed fingers rapidly and strategically click on the buttons. Something about it creates a slight buzz between my legs.

“You just invited yourself into my home. I think I have some right to talk to you any way I want to.” He retorts.

“I didn’t invite myself; I was invited. By your bandmates, your best friends. But you know that already. You’re just being an asshole.”

“Again, this is my house. I can be an asshole in my house if I want to. This is what you signed up for. But you know that already.” He mocks me with my own words.

I try my best to keep my bubbling anger from spilling. We had been doing so well since the thrift store, but it seems that we’re back to square one all over again.

“I’m not trying to be here forever, alright? This is temporary. Like I want to be here any more than you want me to be. Believe it or not, this isn’t exactly a walk in the park for me either.” I sigh, trying to keep my composure. “I’m just trying to make the best of it while I’m here, okay? Can we agree to just be civil?”

He glares at me, but I know he knows that I’m right. “No promises.”

As I look around my new room, I suddenly feel closed in by the towers of boxes that surround me. I should’ve waited until after I signed some sort of apartment lease before having some of my stuff shipped from New York. I was just homesick for a place of my own again, that I wanted my belongings outside of what fits inside a couple carry-on suitcases. I’ve been living out of suitcases for longer than I’ve ever wanted and so maybe unpacking some of my clothes and things wouldn’t hurt much. Afterall, I could always just repack them. When I stand and find that some of the towers are even taller than me, I recognize that I might need help afterall. 

I find myself in front of Nick’s door and a nervous feeling swirls in my stomach that I try to ignore. 

This is a bad idea, I think to myself.

But it’s too late. My knuckles have already met the door. 

After a couple moments, Nick opens the door with a gaming headset pulled off his ear and a controller in his hand. It’s clear by the way his eyebrows drop that he was expecting anyone but me. The look is enough to make me back out of my own decision. 

“Oh, sorry to bother you, you’re obviously busy, nevermind!” I ramble quickly in a way I rarely do - but I rarely feel the way I do with him. Mid-turn to get back to my room he unexpectedly grasps my wrist, not hard but not soft either, enough to keep me in place. 

“What’s up?” He asks and I can’t tell if he’s annoyed or genuinely curious. 

“Oh, um, well, you see,” 

Fucking get it together 

“I was going to ask if I could take you up on your offer? To help me unpack?” I already regret the words before they leave my mouth. “But if you’re busy it’s no big deal!!” 

“I, uh, yeah. Sure. Let me just finish this round and I’ll come help.” He begins pulling his headset back on before I can fully answer.

“Oh, yeah sure. Take your time!” 

He closes his door, and I dart to my room, immediately pacing the small amount of floor I have available.

Why did I fucking do that?

“You okay?” His voice speaks from the doorway where he’s propped up against. 

I nearly jump out of my skin, not expecting him there so soon. It makes me wonder if he had just quit his game instead of finishing it like he said. 

“Oh, yeah yeah.” I wave him off. “I always get nervous with moves.” 

It was a lie. With my job, I’ve had to get used to moving often, so it doesn’t phase me any more. But with the shake in my voice, I know it wasn’t a great sell. 

“Right.” He replies skeptically, pushing himself off the frame. “What did you need help with?”

“I need that box up there.” I point to the box above my head. “And that one.” I gesture to the one right beside it at the same height. “And that one.”

He chuckles at how the boxes seem like skyscrapers to me, “Okay sure.” 

He pulls each one down with ease. 

“Anything else?” He asks. 

I sink down to the floor behind one of the large boxes. “I’m just gonna start unpacking these, if you wanna help.” I shrug up at him. 

Nick looks over at another box, grabbing something before handing it out to me. “I think you might need this.”

Blood rushes to my cheeks at the mistake, “Thank you.” I lift up and take the box cutter from him. 

I thought that would be the limit of his contribution but to my surprise, he sits down across from me. When I give him a confused look he simply jokes, “I’m really interested in what the fuck are in all these boxes.”

I bite down on my bottom lip to keep a grin from spreading across my lips. After our conversation at the music video shoot, this is the last thing I expected him to do. 

I’m still sat on the floor with half empty boxes while Nick acts as the fuel to the operation, putting things wherever I direct him. He slides a chunk of books into a bookshelf that was left behind. Books are always the first thing I like to unpack after the necessities. They're so personal and really give a space a real essence of you. I’m only unpacking my favorites to display for now since I don’t know how long my stay will be.

“You sure do have a lot of books about pirates?” He states quizzically, with an arched brow and a chuckle. 

“Oh,” I laugh, “Yeah, one of my clients really loves them for some reason.” I gesture to the books he just shelved. “I get one of those every Christmas. Those and a box of fancy cigars.”

His eyes look over the spines of the grandiose black leather books. “You’ve been with them a long time.” He observes each one, then looks over at me. “6 Christmases.” 

I blink up at him because there’s no way it’s been 6 years already. Logically, I knew I’ve accumulated a large stack of those books, but it isn’t until now that it clicks. “Wow. You’re right. I hadn’t thought about it like that.” 

“They’re lucky to have you.” He says, crouching down to get more books. “You’ve done so good for us so far, I can’t imagine what your main act gets.” 

The statement feels almost double edged, though it doesn’t seem that he intended it that way. It’s simple and meant to be flattering but it just settles a guilt in my bones. It sounds like he believes that Omens aren’t a priority, which isn’t true. 

“It’s not like that.” I scoff, handing him another set of non-pirate books.

“Oh sure, as if you don’t prioritize Harry Styles over us.” He shoots back playfully.

The Harry bit has gone so far that it makes me wonder if they truly believe it, it would be hilarious if they did. 

“You know I don’t manage him. Wish I did though.” I laugh, shaking my head. I grab another couple books and tug at my lip contemplating whether I should start some lighthearted competition. “You know… Noah guessed my ‘mystery client’.” 

A mischievous smirk blooms on my lips when Nick’s brows raise with an, “Oh did he now?” 

I nod, “Yep! Gonna have to step up your game I guess.” I shrug jokingly.

“Well, I’m either gonna have to go shake him down or,” He points to the room next door with the box cutter then looks at the mess around us. “Or I’m just gonna have to keep unpacking until I figure it out.” 

A giggle escapes me and a warmth blooms in my tummy. I hate that this is how my body reacts to him, but I quickly snuff it out. “I guess so.” 

As he continues to help me, the room overflows with laughter, and I can’t remember ever having fun unpacking. I try not to dwell on the way I feel when I look at him for too long. If I can just push aside the flutter in my chest when he crinkles his nose, or when he smiles wide and sparkles fill his eyes, or when he makes my name sound like music — if I can just move past all of that, then maybe living here won’t be so bad. Perhaps friendship with Nick wouldn’t be so difficult if it looks like this. 

The first week was awkward and uncomfortable and foreign, but the boys acclimated faster than I imagined - which, thinking about it now, made sense. They’d spent the better half of their lives being forced to live with random people for unforeseen periods of time. They just moved around me, and I moved around them, we all were on different schedules and busy doing other things better than paying attention to each other. Outside of rehearsals or meetings, I rarely saw them. The boys have an affinity for the nighttime while I’ve been operating on three different world clocks due to my other clients touring in different countries. 

I found that juggling three bands when I was barely managing two, was becoming quite taxing. I usually pride myself on my work ethic and multi-tasking skills, but it’s wearing on me in ways I’ve never experienced before. My sleep schedule is basically nonexistent, having to be awake for California, Europe, and Australia times simultaneously. I work between cat naps and run off of at least 4 cups of coffee daily. While work has been miserable, it’s definitely helped keep my mind distracted.

After a much-needed shower and a fresh set of button-down pajamas, I follow the smell of pizza downstairs. I find the boys gathered around the kitchen.

“Hey Val.” Folio smiles then falters, “You look fucking exhausted.” He shakes his head apologetically, “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. Just - help yourself, there’s plenty. Noah can put away like three pies on his own.” He chuckles nervously, pushing past me to the living room. 

“Think of it as your belated welcome party.” Jolly says before taking a bite, leaning against the counter. 

“Thanks.” I smile but it doesn’t meet my eyes when I notice Nick remained silent and Noah’s absent.

Jolly nudges my shoulder as he walks out of the kitchen, “Noah’s picking out a movie for us, if you wanna join.” 

“Cool.” I nod, fidgeting with my fingers. As much as I’d love to protest wasting my time, all I need to do right now is sit and turn my brain off for an hour or two. 

“Can’t guarantee it’ll be any good if Noah’s picking.” He calls over his shoulder. 

“Hey!” Shouts Noah from the couch. 

The edges of my lips curl up slightly at the interaction but quickly fall. Even though it's been about a week, this is the first actual night of us all together. It’s only then that it settles in my bones the reality of the move.

I precariously pluck a slice from a half-eaten pie and plop it on a paper plate. “You uh,” I thumb over my shoulder. “Stayin’ for the movie?”

He pushes himself off the granite counter. “I was planning on it, yeah.” He peels another slice from the round and places it on his already full plate. He’s in a dark hoodie for a band I’ve never heard of with the sleeves pulled up to his elbows, showing off all the beautiful ink on his arms. I try not to let my eyes linger too long on the way his fingers fold the slice in half. “You?” 

I steal a water bottle from the fridge and lean against the counter. “Yeah, if he picks a good movie.” I tease. 

He nods and makes his way out of the kitchen. 

I shake my head to wake myself up some more and meet the rest of them in the living room. My feet are the first to freeze when my eyes land on the screen. Noah chose the same indie horror movie that Nick and I had chosen the night he stayed in with me. How he managed to find and decide on the same random movie we did, I’m not sure. What I am sure of is the way my heart feels like it fell into my stomach. My hand grips the plate, and my eyes instinctively search for Nick. His gaze meets mine, the look in his eyes about matches my own before he hardens it. His jaw clenches and he focuses back on finding his place on the couch. 

When I finally make my way over, I find there’s only one seat left between Noah and Nicholas. I take a silent but deep inhale before squeezing between them. The close proximity to Nicholas sends a familiar, anxious thrill through me, but I push it aside, trying to focus on the moment. We’re friends now. Colleagues. I have to keep reminding myself of that. We’ve only ever been colleagues.

“Alright, everyone shut up.” Noah waves a lanky arm around with the remote clutched in his hand. “Movie time!” 

Folio reaches up and flips the lights off to cast an eerie darkness across the room, perfect for the mood of the movie. As the opening credits roll, my heart drops sharply and makes the idea of the pizza on my plate nauseating. The memory hits me like a wave, threatening to pull me under. I can see it so clearly in my head - us sharing two different kinds of chips, Doritos and Cheetos. I can hear the storm that raged that night, the one that kept him from leaving. I remember vividly the conversation we had about having that team-building party. I can hear him promising that the boys would come around. I blink quickly to keep tears from spilling down my cheeks. The last thing I need is to cry in front of them. 

Noah nudges me with his elbow. “You okay? You look a little pale.” He asks with a smirk, teasing me as if I was already scared fifteen minutes into the movie. In the corner of my eye, I can see Nick glance over at us, trying to disguise the fact he’s obviously eavesdropping. 

“Yeah, just... tired.” I half-lie, giving him a weak smile while keeping my eyes on the tv.

“Sure, scaredy cat.” He laughs, returning his focus to the screen.

The movie continues, and I’m transported back to that rainy night. I wasn’t nervous that entire night until we were sitting criss-crossed next to each other watching this specific scene before the first jumpscare. The flutter of nerves didn’t find home in my belly until we both jolted at the perfectly timed jumpscare and our knees ended up pressed together for the rest of the night. I remember the way his hand brushed against mine, the way we laughed and screamed at all the right moments. Sitting here now, with him so close yet so far, is torture. 

As the film progresses, I can’t help but notice Nicholas shifting slightly in his seat. His arm brushes against mine, sending a jolt of electricity through me. I hope no one else notices my reaction. It’s jumpy and juvenile, the way we both try our best not to have any part of our body touching for too long. 

Halfway through the movie, a particularly frightening scene makes everyone scream and laugh at each other’s fear. Nicholas turns to me, and for a brief moment, our eyes meet. There’s a flicker of something in his gaze, something that tells me he remembers too. But then he looks away, and the moment vanishes.

The rest of the movie is a blur. I’m too focused on the memories, the emotions, and the painful reality that the past is just that—the past. When the credits finally roll, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding and everything is suffocating and tight. 

Folio reaches up from his seat in the recliner and flicks the light back on. “Jesus fucking christ, Noah.”

“What the fuck.” Echoes Jolly.

Noah grins widely, obviously proud of his peculiar choice. “You’re welcome.” 

“It was great.” I rush the words out and quickly push myself off the couch. “I need to get some air. Excuse me.”

A cackle erupts from Noah, “Musta scared the shit out of her.” 

As I speed to the front door, I hear someone smack him with a pillow and Nick’s voice telling him not to be an ass.

I nearly burst through the front door and find salvation in gripping the porch railing. For a moment I question if I might actually get ill. Never in my adult life have I ever felt such visceral agony over another human being, nonetheless a man. The cool night air brings a welcome relief and finally I feel like I can suck in a full breath.

I squeeze my eyes shut when I hear the door open behind me and my heart races when Nick appears in my peripheral. Fuck. 

“Hey,” he says softly.

“Hey,” I reply, my voice almost trembling.

He pulls something from his pocket, flipping the top open and holding out a box of Newports to me. “Want one?” 

I sigh, contemplating it even though I haven't touched a cigarette since college, but god do I need it now. “Thanks.” I pluck a cig from the box and place it between my lips. I cup the end from the wind while he flicks the lighter for me. The second it’s sizzling and lit I take a much-needed deep inhale, letting the nicotine fill every gap in my lungs giving me a split second of reprieve. 

I close my eyes as I exhale, hoping the smoke would take the pain that sits in my chest. For a moment, we stand there in silence, the weight of unspoken words hanging between us. The sounds of the night filled the quiet, frogs croaking and far off traffic from the city. 

He steps closer, close enough that I can feel his warmth and the smoke of his cigarette. “I remember that night, you know.”

I pause, swallowing hard. “Me too.”

The ache in my chest is palpable, like it sits between each individual rib. I feel it in my bones, in my veins, in my fucking marrow. 

When I made the decision to distance myself, to hurt him, I thought it was the best decision for us all. I had no idea it would hurt this bad. It hardly seems like a good idea now. 

Every part of my body tenses up like a muscle throbbing in pain. My index and middle fingers involuntarily squish the cigarette, and my fists tighten. I have no reason to feel this way, I did this. 

“Val,” he says, his voice breaking through my turmoil. “We never really… talked.”

I bite my lip hard, the cigarette trembling between my fingers. “What’s there to talk about, Nick?” I can’t bear to look up at him. 

“Us, Vallie.” He says more sternly this time, turning to me fully. “You just shut me out. And I got upset so I walked away, but we didn’t talk about it.” 

Of course, the only man I fall for is the one that actually wants to talk about his feelings. 

“We made a choice, Nick.” I grind my teeth to ward off tears, keeping my gaze focused on a far off tree. 

He shakes his head, stepping even closer. “No, you made a choice. And I went along with it because I thought it was what you wanted. But standing here now like this… I can’t help but wonder if you made a mistake.”

I close my eyes and exhale. All I want to do is give in to him, tell him he’s right, that I did make a mistake. But my reasoning and logic remains the same. 

The words hang in the air, heavier than the smoke around us. I don’t dare look up at him, tears blurring my vision. “Maybe I did. But we can’t. And I told you,” I pause, giving myself one final second to rethink my decision. “I’m seeing someone.”

He snuffs his cigarette out on the wood railing then grasps my shoulder harshly, turning my body to face him. “If you’re going to lie to me, at least do it to my face.”

I drop my own cigarette from the sudden action, and he quickly stomps it out for me. My eyes widen at his words and his shift in demeanor. I blink up at him and shake my head. “I’m not lying.”

“Yes, you are.” He takes a step forward causing me to step backwards, closing me into the porch railing. His hand finds my jaw holding it firmly in place, analyzing me with furrowed brows. It runs an ice-cold shiver down my spine. “I can see it in your eyes. I can hear it in your voice.”

My chest rises and falls rapidly. “I am, seeing someone Nick. I’m happy.” I lie through my teeth even though it’s useless. 

“No, you’re not, Vallie.” His words are sharp and intentional. “Look at you.” He gestures over my body. “You’re shaking through a cigarette just because you’re standing next to me.” 

“God.” A tear slips down my cheek and I try to take a breath, but I feel even more suffocated than before. “Fuck, Nick.” I harshly push him away. I look between us and still for a moment before tears prickle my eyes. “I’m sorry, I can’t fucking do this.”

I rush past him, through the front door, and don’t stop running until I close my bedroom door behind me. I slump against it, sliding down until I’m sitting on the floor. The weight of everything crashes down on me, and I bury my face in my hands.

“FUCK,” I scream, the sound muffled by my palms to not be heard by anyone else. The tears come hard and fast, my shoulders shaking with each sob. I’ve never felt so vulnerable, so exposed. The pain is unbearable, and all I can do is cry.

Thankfully the boys had already gone to bed the night of me and Nick’s fight, so we didn’t have to answer any uncomfortable questions. I cried, got it out of my system, and isolated the emotions into a little folder I tucked into my heart, just as I did the last time. Although, I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t getting more and more difficult. Two weeks later, I’m still avoiding Nick, but I don’t act like a scrambling mouse any time he enters the room. Tensions have calmed down and it’s impressive how much can be hidden behind a mask. 

Today, I’m tearing the kitchen apart looking for a measuring cup, how they’ve made it this far without a measuring cup, I have no idea. 

As I’m bent over into a lower cabinet, I spot Nicholas in my peripheral. Obviously, he’s the one I’d been avoiding the most but the feeling was mutual, us rarely interacting with each other after movie night. We barely spoke to each other during meetings and avoided each other around the house. 

“Looking for something?” He asks with a bit of condescension in his tone. 

The comment immediately irritates me as I’d been hungrily searching for this goddamn utensil for the past half hour and all I fucking want are pancakes on my day off. I bite my tongue in order to not snap at him and back out of the cabinet, standing up. “Would you happen to know where a girl could find a goddamn measuring cup around here?” My irritated tone greatly outweighed Nick’s more subtle one.

His brows raised, shocked that I’d even speak that way, nonetheless to him. His brows didn’t stay up though, they fell rather quickly into thick, straight lines. The way his face turned cold so quickly made me shiver with a fear crawling up my back. “I know you’re not speaking to me that way in my own house.” 

Immediately, I want to rival it but try my best to stifle it down. However, the feeling was too strong. “I know you aren’t talking to me like that, period.” Crossing my arms over my chest and raising a brow at him. 

He steps towards me, “With work? Sure, I can play nice. Outside of work? I can talk to you however I want.” 

My brows furrow at his sudden hostility. Even though we’d been avoiding each other, things have been calm and professional. He’s never spoken to me like this before and while I’m used to dealing with intimidating industry men on my own, the darkness in his tone has my heart thumping in fear. For the sake of my self-respect, I square my shoulders and straighten my back. “Don’t fucking talk to me like that.” 

“Or what?” He provokes, stepping even closer to me. “You work for us, remember? You’re nothing more than a glorified assistant.” 

My jaw practically drops to the floor and red-hot anger rushes through my veins. I hear the smack first, ringing through the kitchen before I feel the static-y stinging in my palm. I gasp and bring my hands to my mouth while I watch him quickly reach for his reddening cheek. I instinctively want to apologize but, he deserved it. 

When his eyes return to mine, they’re the darkest gray I’ve ever seen them and the fearful thumping in my chest returns. He steps forward, backing me into the corner of the cabinets and the air in my lungs vacates when I look up to find his eyes burning holes in my body. My eyes widen at the sudden, unexpected action. “Nick.” I tremble out in the space between us. 

“You think you can just move in and run shit.” He taunts, his voice low and gravelly. “Haven’t even been in the house a month and you’re already acting up.” 

The fight or flight response in my body begs me to cry, to apologize and shove him away but the burning lava in my bloodstream demands otherwise. I clench my jaw matching the intensity of his stare. “I’m an adult Nicholas, I can do whatever the fuck I want in the home I pay to live in.” 

His hands land on the granite countertop at each side of my hips. “You have one hell of a fucking attitude today.”

The energy shifts into something slightly less aggressive and more sensual. As much as it should disgust me after all the shit he just pulled, it has my thighs pressing together. 

I cock my head at him, and in a tone that borders on innocent, I challenge him, “Yeah? And what are you gonna do about it?” 

His hand goes to touch my hip but stops short, stopping himself. We both know the lie I told him, but it seems like he might’ve actually believed it afterall. He lowered to just below my ear. “If I could, I’d make sure the only thing coming out of that bratty little mouth of yours are those pretty noises you make.” He whispers, his voice low and raspy.

His words went straight to my core, filling it with rampant buzzing. The war in my head waged between keeping up with my plan versus just giving into him like I always seem to do. However, it seemed as though the wetness pooling between my legs was winning.

I must’ve taken too long for him, long enough to crack his resolve just a bit. He pressed his forehead against mine, forcing my focus up to him. The look in his eyes had switched to something softer than before, if I didn’t know better, I’d say there was a hint of sadness in his crystal grey eyes. “Can I touch you?” He asks barely above a whisper and when I don’t answer immediately, he begs again. “I need to touch you, Val.” His voice carried what sounded like a deep desperation, and it all yanked at my heart - but guilt was a beast for a different time. 

Truth is, that I feel the same desperation as he does. I nod quickly against him, “Touch me.” I cave into him, like I always do. “Touch me, touch me, touch me.” I repeat softly before his lips clash into mine and his hands finally meet my hips, immediately pulling me onto the counter. As soon as the coolness of the granite meets my thighs, my eyes round at the realization that we’re in the kitchen. I pull away before he has a chance to deepen the kiss, “The others.” I breathe out urgently with wide eyes down at him.

He shakes his head quickly, “They’re out of the city for the day.” 

It could’ve been a bold face lie, but that’s all the reassurance I need to proceed on our poor decision. His tongue swipes across my bottom lip and I oblige faster than I’d like to admit. Our tongues find each other and begin to entwine themselves. He grasps my hips and pulls me to the edge of the counter to press himself against me. I can’t help but let out a tiny moan into his mouth at the feeling of his covered erection pressing into my clothed center. 

His hands trail up my sides to cup my cheeks before parting from me, “You feel what you do to me?” Soft but needy pants through parted lips fall on my own.

My heaving chest and my pathetic excuse for a nod was enough for him to rejoin our lips. I wrap my arms around his neck tugging him even closer. Our tongues fight for dominance but he’s winning, and his thumbs dig into my hip bones in an almost painful way, as if he’s scared I’ll vanish from his grasp. 

My fingers find their way into his hair that’s wrapped up in a loose bun and dig my nails into the roots, letting out a small sigh against his lips. He tastes like cigarettes and coffee in the best way.

I pull away for a moment and let my focus move from his lips back up to his eyes. My hands glide over the waistband of his jeans, dipping two fingers behind the zipper and pulling it towards my body. “I thought you had a lesson to teach me?”

A groan rumbles in the back of his throat as he processes my words. His fingers snap to my thighs, digging harshly into the flesh before spreading them apart as far as they’d allow. Warmth tinted my cheeks at the action, feeling exposed. I’m still clothed but now it’s just the thin fabric of my panties keeping the most intimate part of me covered. It’s not like it’s anything he hasn’t seen before, but it still feels vulnerable. 

“Tell me, what lesson do you think you need to learn?” He asks me while his fingertips urge my lower back to move further to the edge of the counter. 

“Hmm,” I feign thinking hard about the answer. “I think that you think it should be my mouth, but I don’t think that.”

“Oh, no?” He questions, “Is there anything you do that makes you think you deserve a lesson?”

“Nope.” I reply with cheery innocence. 

“That’s interesting, because you’re massively overdue for one.” He tugs my legs so close to him it almost pulls me off the counter. 

He leans down and presses a kiss just below my ear, then trails it down my neck. My heart beats so fast against my ribcage I fear it could burst. 

While his hands roam and grope anywhere they land, he’s buried in my neck sucking marks into it. “I’ve missed you.” He admits, mumbling against my skin and makes my heart rate skip a beat or two. 

I tilt my head back and scrunch my eyes closed. We shouldn’t be doing this in the first place, nonetheless, saying these sorts of things to each other, but it seems neither of us care enough to remember why. 

I tangle my fingers in his hair, giving it a gentle tug and nudging my head against his. “I’ve missed you too, Nicky.” 

He pauses the same way I did but this time he moves back up to rejoin our lips. 

There’s a couple words that linger in the back of my throat - words I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to tell him. Words that I’m not sure make sense for us or if they’re just the chemicals rushing through me. But I want to say them, and I’m scared that if I go to say anything at all they might tumble out. 

His hands find and tug at my shirt which I quickly pull away and discard it across the room. I take the opportunity to do the same with him. I catch the hem of his shirt, and he stills. I realize in the two times we’ve slept together, I’ve never seen him shirtless. That combined with the way he hesitated when I went to pull it off makes me think he might be uncomfortable. “May I?” 

He hesitates but nods and lets me be the one to pull it off him. He’s tattooed all over his chest just as he is on his arms, and it makes me want to go exploring all over his body. Our lips reunite and our tongues reconnect before I get a chance to compliment his appearance. I work quickly at undoing his jeans while he struggles to pull down my skirt.

Finally, bare to each other, he pulls me taut against him to make sure I can feel just how much he’s missed me. He nestles his thick shaft between my folds, and I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t missed that part of him too. I let a small whine slip into our kiss at the feeling of him throbbing against my clit. 

He disconnects from me only to press his forehead against mine, “I need to be inside you.” There’s a greater feeling behind his claim, more akin to ‘I need to be as close to you as possible’.

“I need you, please.” I reply, sounding more desperate than I would’ve liked. 

Now, not my brightest moment, letting him push his way inside me without more prep when I haven’t had him in so long. The stretch his girth brings is a delicious but brutal burn. He takes mercy on me by taking it slow and I feel every thick inch of him until he bottoms out, nuzzling the tip of his cock into my cervix.

“Fuck.” I breathe out, resting my head back on the cabinet. 

While it’s painful, it feels just like puzzle pieces reuniting, like he was made for me. He fills me completely, leaving no empty space.

He only stays stagnant for a short bit of time before he begins rutting into me. I remember how good he feels once adjusted to him. His head is tucked into the other side of my neck, littering it with more marks. He lets small grunts and groans tumble into my neck as he drills into me. With every thrust, his cock hits the bundle of nerves deep within my core and makes my skin burn. “God, you take me so fucking good.” He mutters beneath my ear and it makes me grip onto him tighter.

He detaches from my neck and unexpectedly places both hands on my cheeks, directing my gaze onto him. His hips slow but don’t halt as he forces me to focus on his stormy eyes. 

“Tell me it was a lie.” He demands, with a slight melancholic undertone.

I tilt my head a bit at the request, unsure of what he was referring to or why he’s bringing it up now. “What?”

“I know you lied to me, tell me it was a lie.” He pleads again, with more desperation this time. “Tell me there was no one else.” 

As I take a moment to process, he returns to his spot on my throat, pulling the skin of my neck between his teeth and one hand finding my swollen clit, rolling circles into it. My eyes widen at the feeling of both sensations at the same time, rapidly accelerating the proximity of my high. 

“Tell me you lied to me.” He repeats in a mumble beneath my ear. “Tell me there’s no one else. I need to hear it.”

My mind swirls between his words and the pleasure he’s giving me. It’s like some twisted tactic, that if he gets me so overwhelmed, I’d be forced to tell the truth - and it’s working. 

“I-“ I begin, going to ask how he ‘knows’ but I know I’m a terrible liar, especially to him. My peak rushes to where his fingertips meet my bundle of nerves and all I can think about is him. “I lied, Nick, I lied.” My fingernails dig into his back, and I squeeze my eyes shut, letting an ache wash through my chest.

I feel him smile against my skin and his speed picks up, ramming into my sweet spot over and over while working figure-8’s into my clit. 

“There’s only you.” I add, because I have nothing left to lose with the truth being out. “There’s only ever been you.”

He groans at the words and the way my walls involuntarily pulse around him. “Fuck.“ He grunts against my neck, his thrusts becoming erratic. “Fuck, I’m close. Cum with me?” 

I nod quickly as I’m on the precipice of my own high as well and ready to reach it with him. 

His thumb speeds up with the rolls of his hips pushing me over the edge. “Fuck I’m gonna, fuck,” Buzzing euphoria washes over me and blinds my vision as the coil in my belly snaps. It spreads burning heat across my body and only intensifies when I feel his cock twitch, spilling his hot release into the deepest part of me.

Our chests rise and fall quickly in time with each other and his breath brushes past my shoulder in short bursts. It feels so good to be so full of him.

Unexpectedly, he pulls back only to hold my face and pull me in for another kiss. This time, it’s sweet and soft and full of an emotion we haven’t spoken. Our tongues dance together but it’s slow and tender, the sort of kiss that bonds you and makes you feel safe. 

Once he detaches from me, his forehead presses into mine once more, meeting my eyes with his silver ones, this time having a faint blue hue. His thumbs brush along my cheekbones and his eyes dart across my face, “I don’t want to stop doing this, Vallie.” He whispers and it twists a knife in my chest.

I don’t want to stop either, I want to say. 

I reach up and wrap my arms around his neck pulling him closer. “Nick, we-”

“I know.” He says sadly, but with a slightly hopeful pitch. “The guys are coming around, nobody has to know but us five. I can wait, Val.” His voice pleads. “I can wait, I can wait until you’re ready, until we can. There’s something here, I know you feel it too, I can feel it. I just can’t do this anymore, it’s torture being around you.” His words accelerate as he speaks. “It takes everything in me not to touch you. I can’t be around you, let alone live with you and pretend that I don’t love you.” His eyes widen a bit at what he just blurted out. 

My own eyes round wide at him and my heart feels so full it could pop. “You… what?”

He closes his eyes, “I know that I shouldn’t.” His voice strained before meeting my gaze again. “But I do.” 

I blink up at him as he confirms the same words that have been swirling on the tip of my tongue. My hands slide down to hold his face. “I love you too, Nicholas.” I whisper in the space between us. 

“You do?” He asks, almost surprised though I can’t tell if it’s because I said it or because I mean it, maybe both.

“Yes. I love you, I love you,” My hands pull him closer as I repeat the words like a prayer; now that I’ve said them, I can’t stop. “I love you, I love you,” Before I can get to the fifth ‘I love you’ he wraps my legs around his hips and lifts me off the counter with him still inside me. He carries me into the living room and before I can question anything, we reach his intended destination. 

He lays me down on the couch - the same couch we got high on and ate Jolly Ranchers and ice cream. The couch where we first experienced each other’s bodies. It's not the couch where our love began but it is where it bloomed. 

Our lips rejoin immediately, getting swept up in our newly confessed love. I felt him hardening inside me again before we even left the kitchen. My arms wrap around his neck and my legs close in around his hips, trying to get him as close as possible.  

His hips begin to rut into me, gliding easily with his previous release still inside. It begins tender and slow but as with anything with Nick, it heats up quickly. He uses one hand to hook behind my knee pulling my hips up and closer to him and I let out a gasp at the new, deeper angle. His lips find my neck again, placing needy but tender open mouth kisses there. “I need you to feel how much I love you.”

My nails dig into his back at his words, “Fuck.” I moan out as his tip hits my g-spot directly in rapid succession with no reprieve. “Fuck, I love you.” 

“I love you too.” He says softly against my neck, pressing a gentle kiss there. “God, you feel fucking amazing.” It was like once we gave in and admitted to our feelings, it amplified the sex tenfold.

My head feels like it’s spinning when I nod in agreeance, desperately, “You fill me up so good, baby.” I let the name slip in the cloud of pleasure.

“Fuck, call me that again.” He nearly growls and lands one hard thrust flush against my hips.

It made my heart swell, thankful that he liked it, then had my walls pulsing around him in the realization that he really liked it.

“I love your fucking cock, baby.” I repeat the petname.

“Yeah?” He smirks, against my skin, “You like the way I stretch you out, angel?”

I flutter my eyes closed, feeling so complete in our surrender to one another, like this was how we were meant to be with each other from the beginning. It’s overwhelming how all of our suppressed words and feelings were all crashing into us at once. We broke open the floodgates and we were drowning in each other.

“God yes.” I dig my nails deeper into his flesh, feeling the daunting size of him trying to split me in two.

“Fuck, you take me so fucking good.” He mumbles in a low voice, and I feel myself clench as much as I can around his girth like I need to keep him there forever. He groans at the feeling, “Oh, you’re gonna make me cum if you keep that up.” His hand frantically finds my clit again, beginning tight circles into it.

My breath hitches in my throat and my eyes widen, that being the only thing I needed to send me into my second orgasm. He’s not far behind with hard, staggered thrusts chasing his own high.

Our climaxes arrive rapidly with the passionate expression of our love. For the second time that day, we hit our peaks together in unison, letting the confessions of our love fill the room. 

He practically falls and melts into me as our chests heave in time with each other. After a bit his eyes look down at me, still hazy with lust, now mixed with love. “It’s not enough.” He says hastily.

My brows furrow at his words, lifting myself up to my elbows as he slowly makes his way down my body. “What do you mean?”

He lands at my hips, spreading my legs apart. “I said that I need you to feel how much I love you. Fucking you with my cock isn’t enough.”

Before I can protest or inquire, his head is dipped between my thighs and his tongue is latched to my already-overstimulated clit.

“Oh, no, no, no.” My hand flies into his hair as I shake my head quickly. “No, Nick, I can’t – oh – not again,” I hiss at his blatant disregard and try to squirm away. “Fuck – It’s too much.”

He groans against me and his hand grip onto my hips stiffly, keeping me locked in place. “Stay fucking still.” He growls the demand without pulling his mouth away, every word sending a vibration through my body.

Every move of his tongue is intentional in a specific pattern, if I didn’t know better, I’d wonder if he was actually spelling out ‘I love you’. Regardless of that being factual or not, it doesn’t matter because it feels like he was writing loveletters with his tongue.

Every flick and swirl, sends a jolt through my entire being. My movements beneath his mouth can only be described as thrashing as my center is flooded with stimulation it wasn’t ready to receive again. It’s heavenly but almost painful at the same time. “Slower, please.” I beg but it’s futile; once Nick’s determined on something, its hard to convince him otherwise.

I tug at the roots of his hair and wriggle as much as I can with him keeping me in place. I’d felt my high creeping up, but I didn’t expect it to crash into me out of nowhere. It hits me all at once, my hips buck into him and my grip on his hair must be painful, but he doesn’t falter, not for a second. Silent screams ghost my throat as pleasure rips through me, violently. His tongue continues to roll at the perfect speed in all the right patterns, dragging out my high into the longest one I’ve ever had.

He finally tapers off of me and looks up at me through my parted legs. “I could do that all fucking day.”

I deflate into the cushions with a sigh, my ears still ringing from the overwhelming pleasure that just possessed my entire being. He kisses up my body, reaching up and planting a chaste kiss to the side of my mouth. “Was that too much?” He questions in a whisper.

I shake my head lazily, out of breath. “Perfect.” Is all I can get out.

The edge of his lips curl into a smirk. “I knew it would be.” And places a prideful kiss to my shoulder.

Once cleaned up, we laid on the couch together with me cuddled into his side and my head on his chest. The silence around us is both comforting and nerve wracking. The air is thick with fragility, like if one of us moves or speaks our bubble will burst. 

As we lie there, the quiet moments stretch out, and I can feel his heartbeat steady under my ear. It’s a rhythm that grounds me, making everything else fade away. His fingers trace gentle patterns on my arm, and I close my eyes, savoring the warmth of his touch. There’s a comforting sense of relief in surrendering completely to each other, finally. I’m not sure what this all means for us, but it feels good to finally admit it outloud. 

We stay like that for the rest of the night, enveloped in a bubble of shared intimacy. The outside world, with all its complications and uncertainties, feels distant and unimportant. Right now, we are just two people who have found comfort in each other’s arms. The complex reality and fragile hope for what might come next hangs in the air, but for now, they don’t need to be addressed. The uncertainty still lingers, but it’s softened by the honesty we’ve shared today. Tomorrow will bring its own set of challenges and questions, but in this moment, I allow myself to simply be with him, wholly. All that matters is the gentle rise and fall of his chest and the soft whisper of our breaths mingling in the quiet room. It’s enough to simply be together, a luxury we’ve denied ourselves of for so long—to find solace in the closeness and love that has always been there, begging to be acknowledged from the beginning.

Taglist; @ladyveronikawrites @persuasivus @kingdomof-omens @strawberryruffilo @the-hell-i-overcame @cncohshit @dominuslunae @thebadchic @to-be-written @myownthoughts12 @measuredingold [comment if you'd like to be tagged?]

A/N; The love for this story is something I never expected and I am truly grateful for it. Sorry that this took so long or if it's not up to par. I would love to hear your thoughts and predictions 👀 Thank you SO much for reading 💗

[namicakes]

Winning Piece.

Synopsis: “Two hearts once bound by ink and lens, Torn apart by time’s cruel hands. A boy with words, a girl with light, Reunite as rivals in fate’s quiet fight.”

Note: (Based on a tiktok post. I also HC that akaashi, before joining the vb club, he's once a journalism club member. I mean him and his timeskip job make sense righttt?????)

Akaashi Keiji x Reader

It was the quiet shuffle of pages and the faint scratching of pens that first brought Akaashi Keiji and Y/N together. Their world was a symphony of ink and thought, tethered by a mutual love for stories untold. They met beneath a canopy of stars on the terrace of an old bookstore, during a city-wide workshop for young journalists. Y/N, from a rival school, was the spark to Akaashi’s composed demeanor, her laugh like wind chimes and her thoughts a kaleidoscope of color.

"Do you always take notes this neatly?" Y/N had teased, leaning over Akaashi’s shoulder to glimpse his meticulous handwriting.

He glanced at her, a slight blush painting his cheeks. "It helps organize my thoughts. What about you? Do you always carry that camera around?"

Y/N grinned, holding up the vintage camera she’d inherited from her grandmother. "Every photo tells a story. I just happen to love writing them down too."

And just like that, two dreamers found themselves drawn to one another. They spent hours talking about the power of words, the beauty of a perfectly timed photograph, and the shared dream of becoming storytellers for the world. Akaashi had never been so captivated by someone’s passion. She made the mundane feel extraordinary, and he, ever the listener, found himself inspired in ways he hadn’t thought possible.

For a year, they were inseparable. Akaashi began journaling because of her, filling pages with thoughts he’d never spoken aloud. She called it his “soul on paper,” and when she read his entries, he felt seen in a way that volleyball or schoolwork had never managed.

But life has a way of pulling people apart. Y/N’s family moved cities, and the once endless conversations turned into fragmented texts and missed calls. They didn’t argue; they simply drifted. One day, the silence became permanent, leaving Akaashi with a journal full of memories and the faint scent of her favorite lavender perfume lingering in the pages.

Years Later

Akaashi hadn’t thought about her in a long time. Volleyball had filled the void she’d left behind, giving him a new purpose. But his love for journaling never faded, even if it became a private endeavor. Now, standing in the bustling hall of a national journalism competition, he felt a twinge of nostalgia as he adjusted the strap of his camera bag.

“Next participant, please,” the registration assistant called, pulling Akaashi out of his thoughts.

As he handed over his documents, he heard a familiar voice behind him, cheerful and sharp.

“I’m here to win, not waste time.”

He turned, and there she was—Y/N. Her hair was shorter, her presence still radiant. She didn’t notice him at first, too busy chatting with her team. But when their eyes finally met, the world seemed to tilt on its axis.

“Akaashi?” Her voice was a mix of surprise and uncertainty.

“Y/N,” he replied, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.

For a moment, the noise around them dulled, leaving only the weight of everything unsaid.

The competition began with fervor, each task designed to test their skills. Akaashi worked silently, his focus unshakable. Y/N, on the other hand, attacked each challenge with her usual gusto, her laughter and determination lighting up the room.

“Still the quiet perfectionist, I see,” Y/N quipped during a break, handing him a cup of coffee.

“And you’re still as bold as ever,” he replied, taking a sip.

Their conversations were brief but charged with unspoken tension. It was clear that both were determined to win, but something deeper lingered beneath their rivalry—a longing to reclaim what they had lost.

The last round was announced: Capture and narrate a moment that defines connection. Participants had two hours to create their entries. Akaashi wandered the venue, camera in hand, his thoughts a whirlwind. It was then he saw her, standing by a sunlit window, her camera raised as she focused on a group of children playing outside. The light framed her perfectly, highlighting the concentration etched on her face.

Without thinking, Akaashi raised his camera. The click of the shutter was soft, but the image it captured was profound. In that moment, she wasn’t his rival—she was the girl who once made him believe in the beauty of storytelling.

The auditorium buzzed with anticipation as the winners were announced. Y/N sat a few rows behind Akaashi, her heart pounding in equal parts hope and dread. When his name was called for first place, a round of applause erupted. Y/N’s stomach sank, but she clapped nonetheless, her pride for him overshadowing her disappointment.

The winning piece was unveiled on a large screen: a black-and-white photograph of Y/N by the window, her camera poised and her eyes glowing with determination. The accompanying narrative spoke of *eunion, the bittersweet passage of time, and the eternal connection between dreamers.

Y/N stared at the screen, her breath catching. She hadn’t realized she was the subject of Akaashi’s submission.

“You used me as your muse,” Y/N said, finding Akaashi after the ceremony. Her voice was teasing, but her eyes were glassy with unshed tears.

“You’ve always been my muse,” he admitted, holding her gaze. “That photo… it reminded me why I started journaling. Why I fell in love with storytelling. Why I fell in love with you.”

Y/N froze, her heart pounding as his words hung in the air. “Akaashi… I didn’t think we’d ever get this chance again.”

“Neither did I,” he said softly. “But maybe some stories aren’t meant to end.”

As the evening faded into twilight, they found themselves walking together, their conversation flowing as if no time had passed. The years apart had changed them, but the connection they shared was timeless—a story still waiting to be written.

[omgsuperstarg]

Shut up and Drive- Toto Wolff x Assistant! Reader

Another one shot with the Capricorn King Toto Wolff. I hope yall like it and subscribe for more

This short is based on this video with him and his lovely wife Susie!!! Ughhh I live for them soo much, they're such a cute and POWERFUL COUPLE!!!!

Alright!!! Let's burn some rubber!!!!!!!!!!

As one of Toto's assistants, it's stipulated that you keep him on track of his appointments and all drama that entails throughout the day. You had your fair share of chaos and it always goes on overdrive on a race weekend. Right now the team is currently in Miami for another Race for the 2023 season and with the sweltering sun and hotter cars it was shaping up to be another fun weekend.

This is your outfit. imagine the Mercedes shirt replacing the blouse

Your gloves

You were multitasking between your computer and Toto and Bono as they analyzed data before the race kicked off when suddenly your best friend and Mercedes' Social Media moderator Jessica approached you.

"Y/N just the girl I wanted to see, I have a fun assignment for you," She says smiling evilly

"Oh boy, I know im gonna regret life choices ", I respond playfully scared.

"Don't worry love, you're going to be doing this assignment with Toto so you'll be safe. How do you feel about driving around the BOSS", she says wringing her hands like a bond villain.

"What are we waiting for, LETS GOO!!", you say pulling her towards the beloved team principal.

Once Toto was caught up to speed, both you and Toto proceeded to the vehicle with your cell phone out to capture it all.

Entering the car, you strapped in your seatbelt and began to record your POV.

"Okay guys, here I am bout to be driven around the track by my Boss. If you don't hear from me again you know who to look at", you say while flipping the camera to show your boss.

"Don't worry, you'll be completely fine and ill even drive slow", the statuesque man sounds while patting my shoulder in a comforting way.

"You say that now but I know the gears be running in your head on ways to torment me. I can feel this is your hazing ritual for me since I'm new," you say while giggling. Your face however is still sceptical, the car begins moving as you begin to further document your trip and that's when the chaos starts.

Toto pumps the gas without warning and the speed was astounding like any adrenaline junkie you begin to cheer in delight.

"Wooooo, this is what im talking bout. It's official I'm petitioning for Toto to be a stunt driver!!", you say as your body slightly moves with the car as it turns.

"I wonder if the fans petitioned you to be James Bond, cuz you have the vintage look of the early movies but a lot more gentlemanly. "you say as you whip your head to the statuesque Austrian.

"A few times, I thought about acting, but I figured it wasn't my place.", he says wistfully.

"Alright boss man,it's the final turn. Give me some speed and remember, if I aint feeling some kind of G force you going too slow."you say while giggling.

You take notice of his playful smile,which resembles a wolfish grin. You couldn't help but snap a picture to remember the moment. This should be one of the main pictures of the post. Sadly, all things must end. Finally, it's your turn.

You decided to wear your fingerless leather gloves for this moment and connect your phone to the car's radio since you have the perfect song in mind.

"Okay, now I have one of my lovely assistants to take her little spin round the track," the leader responds with his Austrian accent shining through.

I'm lovely?!?! Aweee sir, you flatter me, but I hope you don't mind if I put on a little music for us to cruise to, "you say, smiling in glee.

So you turn the radio up and started off slow. After the road was clear, I went full-on fast and furious.

You were hitting those turns like the drivers on the track.

"I hope you're enjoying yourself boss", you state while keeping eyes on the road and jamming to the song on the radio. "I can truly say that this is an experience. I love your touch of the gloves and playing Rihanna is quite fitting for the situation", he speaks with his joyful laugh filling your ears.

"I never thought you would be a Rihanna fan", playfully gasping at his statement. You can thank my eldest daughter for that", he says.

"Are you sure you're not a driver?", the boss man playfully asks. "No, I wish. Maybe if I have gotten into it from a young, now I would've been turning heads but I'm happy where I am, I still get to be in a world I love with the most chill team EVER!!", you say getting a little emotional.

The car slows down as you return to the pits, wishing the time wasn't over. After exiting you gave Toto a hug thanking him for a great time as well as for putting up with your crazy fun.

"I enjoyed it and I sure as hell wouldn't mind doing a carpool karaoke with you the next time",

"I've already made note of it sir and Im looking forward to hearing THAT VOICE", you say as you conclude your heart-to-heart heading back to the garage to observe the good chaos of race day.