chapter one
“run for the hills”
7.4k
PAIRING: Rockstar!Ellie x FashionJournalist!Reader (SERIES M.LIST)
SYNOPSIS: Two years after your breakup with Abby, 24 now, a rebuilt reputation in your present and a looming promotion in your future—or so you thought. One lonely night, or rather, one lonely girl, is all it takes for things to turn sideways. You’re suddenly faced with a decision; stay, and see what will become of this mess, or save yourself—and run for the hills.
TAGS: smut at the end!, ex-girlfriend f1!abby, bsf!dina, cursing, alcohol, nyfw, club make out sesh, fingering (r.receiving), strap riding, top!ellie, touchstarved!ellie (and reader), almost car sex, use of ‘good girl’, praise kink
Cameras flashed as you stepped out of the building, the sound of clamoring photographers closing in around you, as you made a beeline for the Benz parked at the edge of the sidewalk.
“Y/n, over here!” A particularly blinding burst of light flashed from the corner of your eye as you kept your eyes trained on the polished car door, eager to escape the chaos. “Any word from Clara about the next editor of the magazine?” A reporter hollered at you.
You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at the same question you’d heard nearly twenty times that week.
No matter what you told them they just never believed you.
Ignoring the question, you continued down the paparazzi-lined path, designer stilettos clacking against the pavement. You paused as the chauffeur opened the car door, a familiar outline visible through the tinted window.
You were just about to duck into the car when another voice caught your attention.
“Y/n!” You looked despite yourself, freshly styled hair swaying as you turned. “Will we be seeing you at the Calvin Klein after party tonight?”
You paused, manicured fingers resting atop the open door, as you considered. One question couldn’t hurt, now could it?
You shot the camera your most charming smile, a recipe perfected over years of practice, all polished perfection.
“I’ll see you there.”
A calm quiet filled the backseat of the car as the door clicked shut behind you, a bubble of silence enveloping the space, muffling the cacophony of questions and cameras outside.
With a soft huff, you watched the crowd of reporters roll away as you began down the road, reeling slightly.
Every so often, the reality of your current situation still surprised you. For a moment, you were 21 again, heartbroken and disgraced, the pain of losing Abby still fresh in your mind.
Then, the mirage would disappear, you’d snap back to reality, back to the now gleaming reputation and rising career you’d spent the last two years of your life painstakingly building back up.
You were Vogue magazine’s “Paper Princess”, next in line for the throne. A myriad of highly praised articles and an extensive list of connections now securely fastened under your belt.
You wouldn’t have believed it back then, when any possibility of saving your career seemed impossible, but you were sure of it now—it was only up from here.
“Can’t we go any faster?” Clara’s cool, monotonous voice cut through the cold quiet of the car, pulling you out of your thoughts. You turned to attention—a force of habit. “The traffic should clear out after the next light—“
“If I’m late again Jacques will no doubt take it as an insult. We can’t have him whining about the magazine’s poor conduct to anyone who’ll listen. That fool.”
You nodded at her words, used to the interruption, as you made a mental note to send over a fruit basket should you arrive late—though you doubted it. The thoroughly planned schedule you’d spent hours on the night before still fresh in your mind, the proof of it still visible in the slight darkness under your eyes, just barely discernible beneath layers of expertly packed on concealer.
Pleasantly, you smiled, looking to lift the mood. “Do you want me to set up breakfast somewhere tomorrow morning? You have nothing on the agenda, so—“
Once more, Clara cut you off, silencing you the moment the first sound of her icy voice hit your ears. “We have that meeting, with the William rockstar.” She said distractedly, eyes focused on something out the window.
You brow furrowed at her words, confused, as you began digging through your purse for your planner. Last you checked tomorrow was completely free. “I’m sure I told you.” She insisted as you cracked open the notebook, little tabs and sticky notes sticking out the edges every which way.
Inked pages crinkled as you flipped through the dates, your manicured finger skimming the numbers for tomorrow—the 27th; Empty.
Well then…
Quickly, you scribbled in the reminder, bracelets clinking in the quiet of the car. ‘27th - Meeting with William.’ With a soft thump, you shut the little book, shoving it back into the disorganized abyss in your purse. You’d just have to ask Dina for the details later.
A blanket of silence cast itself over the backseat of the car. You stared on ahead, allowing your boss the quiet she often wordlessly requested, only to be surprised when she spoke up instead.
“I’ve been meaning to speak with you.” Her cool voice cut through the still quiet, words only the slightest bit alarming. Probably just another errand. She continued slowly, tone lightly dragging in the way it often did. “about your position at the magazine.”
Your heart dropped.
“Uhm, what-what about it?” You managed, choking out the words.
“I understand there have been recent… rumors making their rounds. Concerning Vogue’s next Editor in Chief.” The title leaves her lips with a steely hiss, the weight of it tangible on her tongue. “Your name seems to be in a lot of people’s mouths.”
You take the words like an accusation, brain quickly leaping at the chance to defend. The words tumble out of you. “Well, they’re just rumors. I don’t believe them, personally—“
“—Well, I would.” Her words are spoken so matter-of-factly they cause your brain to short circuit.
She turned to face you, ice blue eyes staring you down. “I see a potential in you, Y/n. I have seen it—have been watching it. It’s gotten to a point where I simply cannot tell if it can be utilized simply by watching.” She paused, gaze intense. “The meeting tomorrow. I want you to lead it.”
The words are an offer, but they’re spoken like a command. At which you could only stare back, dumbfounded, potential responses eluding you. She gives you no time to process before she continues. “And, if all goes well, the October cover will be the last one I work on alone.”
“I will step down—into a Co-Editor-in-Chief position.” she explained simply, “And you, will be promoted up.”
A short silence fell between you once more as she finished her even-toned announcement, expression so mild you wouldn’t have thought she’d just offered you the promotion of a lifetime. Co-Editor-in-Chief.
She fluffed lightly at your silence. “Most people would be jumping up and down in joy right now, but if you dont want the promotion I could certainly find anoth—“ You shake your head violently. “N-no!—Yes! I want it.” You blurt out, brain cells finally kicking back into gear. “I want the promotion.”
Clara made no indication that she’d heard you as the car began to slow to a halt, towering building rolling into view through her window.
Despite that, you watched her, working up the courage to ask cautiously, “And you’ll make the decision after the meeting tomorrow?”
Clara nodded gently, already turning back to her window as the car door clicked open, the sound of a new set of reporters penetrating the temporary bubble of silence.
She was just about to step out when you heard her speak once more, her usual tone, a hint of a smile hidden under if you listened close enough. “But with your track record? I doubt that will be any issue.” She says the words coldly, in that icy, indiscernible way, but the praise has you reeling nonetheless.
The sudden chatter of the crowd outside joined the overwhelming chorus of thoughts rushing through your head as you stared out the door, the building’s grand entrance beckoning you forward.
You sighed to yourself, shaking your head back into focus.
Make it to tomorrow. That’s all you had to do.
"Ellie, c’mon.” Jesse’s voice was tired as he followed Ellie to her apartment door, hands outstretched in a physical plea to stay. “Just give it a chance.”
The words get her to pause, but it’s only a momentary still. Ellie whipped around angrily, finally irritated enough to argue back. “Jesse, I told you. I’m not fucking doing it.” She said determinedly, tone laced with a watered down venom specifically reserved for arguments like these.
“So you can go back and tell Maria the same thing I’ve been telling her—No.”
He sighed heavily, eyes squeezing shut in exasperation. “El—” “God, I can’t believe she got to my friends.” She muttered under her breath, guitar-scarred fingers pinching the bridge of her nose in furstration.
She only allowed for a few moments of quiet before she spoke up again, arms raising in a passion, as she pointed an accusatory finger at Jesse. “I-I mean, I thought at least you’d understand! Do you not hear them? This shit is manipulative!”
Jesse deadpanned, face dropping into that all too familiar look, the one that seemed to say ‘are you serious?’. “Ellie, it’s a fake relationship. And also, all marketing is manipulative.”
The fervor in his voice seemed to pick back up as Ellie reached for her keys, nonchalance fading. “Wa-wait!”
He sighed, breath exasperated, determination wearing thin, as he steadied himself once more.
“Look,” He began slowly, tone cautious, as if afraid to scare Ellie away. “I know you’re, like, still in love with Selene-Now, hear me out-!”
He raised up his own hand at the mention of the name, the action reflexive, sudden enough to successfully still a freshly provoked Ellie, her mouth already open, scathing retort no doubt ready on her tongue. He paused before continuing.
“But Jackson Records needs this deal to close. This is the most surefire way to convince the investors the new album’s safe enough to shove their money in.”
Ellie studied her friend’s face, so familiar that the subtle differences were anything but—the whisper of a worried wrinkle, the last few desperate arguments still left on his lips. Sympathy overtook stubbornness in a second-long battle.
Ellie groaned, head thrown back in frustration. She’d only grown more dramatic since she’d first moved here. “They turned me into a celibate, Jesse! I haven’t felt the touch of a woman in four months. Four months! And for what? This stupid fuckass marketing campaign?”
“Wh-First of all, they never said you couldn’t go out, they just said you couldn’t get caught.” He clarified, earning an eye roll from Ellie. “And second, no one’ll buy ‘Soft Rock Ellie’ if the shift is too sudden. The new album won’t feel genuine if you’re still out there every night f—“
“But it is genuine, Jesse! Where do they think I got the ideas? Out of my ass? I don’t just come up with lyrics like that!”
“I know! You’ve been working your ass off!—I know because I’ve been here with you the whole time.”
“You’ve been working on the album for months, El, and they’re finally gonna let you do it. Playing girlfriend for a few months is a small trade off.” The words seem to sink in as a well-meaning softness bleeds into Jesse’s tone.
“Maybe you’ll get something else out of this. Maybe you’ll actually like her.”
The thought is nice, hopeful. But hope wasn’t something you give into freely. Not if you wanted to protect yourself.
Ellie had learned that the hard way.
Jesse sighed, “Just, think about it. Get back to Maria before the meeting tomorrow morning.”
“Please.” He added when Ellie began to move, steady hand reaching up to rest on her shoulder.
Jesse’s voice was softer, still tired, yet tangibly concerned.
Ellie paused for a moment before she turned to the door, stepping out, as she bit out a begrudging response.
“Fine.”
Camera’s flashed violently from the front row of seats as you leaned forward in your own.
Fashion shows were some of your most anticipated events of the year, and not just because they were such an important work event.
Sure, you were primarily there to analyze, to write. To take in every little detail of every little piece and tell everybody who read the magazine exactly what to think. But there were also the fun aspects—one of which being the clothes you'd potentially get to "borrow" from the magazine closet.
Usually you’d be entirely concentrated on the catwalk, eager to make note of whatever luxury piece you felt necessary to add to your closet.
This time though, you were completely distracted, mind drifting, as Clara’s words echoed through your mind, accompanied by the distant sound of steady-beat runway music.
It was Dina who first broke you out of your distracted daze. A sequined pant poked your stocking-covered ankle, the pain sharp enough to draw you from your thoughts.
You shot your seatmate an irritated look. “What?” You whispered harshly, eyebrows furrowed at the unwarranted attack.
“Quit ignoring me.” She whispered back, returning your question with just as much sharpness.
“Wha-I wasn’t!”
“Uh, yes you were!” She retorted, voice shooting up at the end, earning you annoyed glances from a few of your seat mates.
Warily, you glanced over at Clara further up the row, her attention thankfully fixed solely on the runway models. You nearly jumped out of your skin when she turned in your direction, gaze immediately snapping back to the runway. Beside you, you felt Dina do the same.
Moments passed before Dina spoke up again. “What’s up with you?” She asked lowly, penciled lips barely moving. “You’ve been all spacey since you got here.”
You kept your eyes trained on the paraded collection before you, Clara’s words resurfacing in your mind once more, making you giddy. “I-I think I’m getting a promotion.” You whispered, soft volume doing little to mask the buzzing anxiety.
Dina’s head almost snapped to fully face you when the realization of your words sunk in. She stared at you, eyes wide as saucers. “Uhm, what?”
An undeniable smile crept onto your face, no longer allowing itself to be suppressed. You turned to Dina for a moment, heart brimming with gratitude, as you watched her own beaming face, the corners of her mouth pulled just as high up as your own. How did you get so lucky?
“Congratulations?? Fucking finally!” All you could do was grin back at your friend as she sent out her congratulations, words charged with unmistakeable sincerity.
For a moment her smile faltered, brow furrowing ever so slightly. “Wait, what do you mean ‘might’?” Nervously, you chewed your bottom lip, eyes flickering to the runway, the steady beat of the models’ steps the complete opposite of your now hammering heart. “She said she’d decide after the meeting tomorrow.” You replied.
Dina shot you a puzzled look, not unlike the one you’d made only minutes ago when you’d first heard the information yourself. “We have a meeting tomorrow?”
“Apparently.”
“With who?”
You shrugged, “I thought you would know. Clara said something about a rockstar?”, worry rising up when Dina only shook her head in response.
“D’you think Emma would know?” You asked, fingers involuntarily wringing together. How did you have no info on what was supposedly the most important meeting of your career?
“I need to get the details before tomorrow…” you trailed off at the sight of Dina’s now distracted gaze, staring straight across the runway.
A half-meaning scowl crept onto your face. “Ok, now you’re ignoring me.”
Her hand came up to grip your wrist, eyes unmoving from their mysterious target. “Holy shit.”
“What?”
“Look who’s looking at you.”
Curiously, your eyes followed Dina’s across the stage, swiftly finding their way to the figure sitting along the row opposite yours.
You observed the girl, gaze scanning her person for some possible indication of familiarity.
She leaned forward in her seat, forearms resting comfortably on knees spread wide, one lithe hand clasping the other in the space between.
Your eyes flitted further up to find an inked moth on her left forearm, peeking out beneath a well-fit leather jacket—set so naturally on her shoulders that it just looked right—and higher, past the tips of half pulled up auburn hair, to find a pair of green eyes so piercing you didn’t know if you wanted to look away or keep staring for all eternity.
Those eyes were fixed right onto you.
Well, fuck you.
You leaned over to Dina, eyes refusing to look anywhere but the girl in front of you. “Who is that?”
Dina recoiled, disbelief quickly creeping onto her face. “Uhm, Ellie Williams?” Her incredulous expression only deepened when you stared back, oblivious. “So Far So Fake?”
All you could offer in response was a half-hearted shrug, before you turned back to the girl, leaving Dina to watch you in utter disbelief, muttering something about how you needed to get out more.
You watched the girl—Ellie—whisper something to her neighbor, heartbeat skipping when her eyes flickered across the space to meet yours once more, lingering ever so slightly before turning back to her seat mate.
Curiously, you followed her gaze, eyes focusing on the shrouded figure next to her, only to immediately wish you hadn’t.
There, in all her glory, sat the one person that you just couldn’t seem to shake, signature braid thrown over one broad, bomber jacket clad shoulder.
You sat silently, frozen still, watching as the familiar curve of Abby’s face moved about in the dark. Painful memories flashed in your mind with a presence you detested.
Dina’s voice sounded muffled from beside you. “Ellie hasn’t been spotted at a party since the breakup, but if she’s coming to the after party then…” She trailed off, eyes locking on what you could only guess was Abby’s half-hidden figure, partially cloaked in darkness.
“Oh, fuck.” You heard her whisper from beside you. Her grip on your hand turned soft. “Babe, you okay?”
You just nodded quietly, the elation from your previous promotion related thoughts dulled by sudden shock. One thought echoed through your mind as you stared ahead—you needed to get out of here.
The warm light of the hotel bathroom cast a soft glow over Dina’s face as she leaned against the sink counter, head turned to face you. “You okay?” She asked, voice laced with concern.
You leaned next to her, hands cold against polished marble. “I-yeah. Just surprised.” You sighed, already feeling drained. “I just-I thought she’d still be celebrating in Italy.” The tweet flashed in your mind; Abby’s face, the gleaming trophy in her hands, the wide smile stretched across her face that suggested she was having the time of her life without you. Meanwhile, you were here, sulking in a hotel bathroom, teary after laying eyes on her for just a little over a minute.
Dina rubbed your shoulder comfortingly. “I know, Babe. I’m sorry.”
You pushed the hair out of your have with a soft huff. “Let’s just stay in tonight? Finish Gilmore Girls over at mine?”
“I… can’t.” She shrugged sheepishly, face apologetic when your head whipped around, betrayed. “I know, but Clara has me doing sched review for tomorrow. At least I can text you the meeting location.”
“Traitor.”
“You won’t have to go scavenging for info!”
You threw your face into your palms. “Dinaaa! You can’t leave me alone like this!”
“I know, I’m sorryyy.” She paused, that familiar glint of mischief sparkling in her eye—the same one you found whenever she had a particularly daring plan. “But, I can think of something else you could do.”
Suspicious, your eyes narrowed. “I’m scared to ask, but what?”
“Well,” she began, pushing off the counter to face you. “I don’t know if you remember, but Ellie was in that really popular TMZ article last year.” You thought back, trying to recall. TMZ… Shortly, the headline came up foggy—something about an actress?
Dina’s voice cut through your thoughts. “Rumor had it she had this heartbreaking breakup with Selene.” She said, pausing as if awaiting a reaction, disappointed when you only stared back cluelessly. “The movie star. From ‘Over You’?” You simply shrugged in response, the name not ringing any bells. She stared, wide eyed, looking genuinely concerned. “You’re jok-She’s, like, one Grammy away from an EGOT!”
Huh, maybe you did need to get out more.
She waved her arms in front of her, as if clearing the air of your confusion. “Point is, Ellie hasn’t gotten with anyone since-but! She used to be a total fuckboy. Like, seriously. Taking girls home left and right—really fit the Rockstar persona.” You nodded along, easily marrying the image with the girl you’d seen across the stage.
Dina continued on, “She hasn’t been spotted at a party since the supposed breakup, but if she’s here now, I just wonder if maybe she’d be at the after party.” She raised two perfect eyebrows, scheming smile playing on her lips.
“Maybe you aren’t the only one trying to get over someone.”
You sighed, considering the offer, simultaneously trying to conjure up an excuse. Your eyes lit up when you did. “I can’t, I have that meeting tomorrow morning, remember?”
“Oh please, you’ve come to meetings after even later nights out in the office. The only difference this time is the post-sex glow you’ll have when you get there.”
You shot her a glare, unimpressed. She smiled despite it, persisting.
“Come on, please.” She took your hands in her own ringed fingers, genuine concern creeping under the humor. “You’re always, always working. One night out won’t hurt.” The sincerity in her eyes is touching. It’s hard to say no.
“I promise this’ll be good for you.”
You huffed slowly, dragging out the air through pursed lips. You eyed a hopeful Dina, contemplating.
She watched you eagerly, the turning gears in your mind almost visible to her knowing eye. You were so clearly on the cusp of agreement. One more push.
“You can borrow the sparkly Versace dress that put me in two months worth of debt last year.”
“Fine.”
You let out a laugh at her celebratory giggle, the smile on your face now matching the one on hers, teary expression long forgotten. “But you’re taking the fall for anything bad that happens.” You bumped her playfully.
“Ugh, relax! What could possibly go wrong?”
Bass heavy music reverberated through your body as you entered the dimly lit club, steady beat thrumming in your veins like a second pulse.
It’s loud, deafening. Everything about the new environment you find yourself in is intoxicating. Lights dance atop darkness shrouded skin, crimson tint illuminating the bodies pressed together on the dance floor, movements so charged that the heat is contagious. Anticipation buzzes through you, eager and dangerous.
You entered slowly, heads turning as you continued further into the room, each pair of lustful eyes hoping they might get a chance with you tonight. Because Dina hadn’t lied. You looked amazing—makeup sharp, hair effortlessly falling into place, sleeveless, sparkly Versace just barely grazing the tops of your thighs, teasing with every sway of your hips. The fabric clung to every dip and curve of your body with seductive precision. You quite literally shimmered when you moved.
It takes a while for you to loosen up, skirting around the edge of the crowd with your drink in hand, all too aware of the people around you. But the alcohol warmed you from the inside, slowly building heat simmering just beneath your skin.
Before you knew it you were deep in the throng of people, three drinks down, fourth in hand, as you moved your body to the beat with a hypnotizing swing, worries of watchful eyes fading away into some dark corner of your mind, long forgotten.
You were midway through a song, a stranger’s head tucked soundly in the crook of your neck, hands wandering, when a familiar figure caught your attention. Just there, leaning by the edge of the dance floor, flashed that piercing green gaze. Dangerous, daring, instantly recognizeable.
Ellie watched you from across the floor, shameless and unrelenting in the way she eyed your body. She held a glimmering whiskey glass loosely from the rim, carefully bringing it to her lips, as her eyes locked onto yours, daring you to step closer.
She was looking straight at you.
And she looked like she wanted something.
Instinctively, you turned away, scanning the room for a distraction, the stranger before you proving insufficient. Your movements momentarily halted when you spotted another figure in the crowd. The grip on your glass grew loose. Abby stood only a few feet away, head poking out amongst majority of the crowd, sculpted arm slung around some girl you didn’t know, as she peered down at her with a smile—the same one that used to be yours.
Moments pass before your eyes dart away, head spinning. Suddenly the lights feel too bright, the music too loud. Too many people occupy the space around you. You grip the body before you, searching for something to ground you. Panic washes over you when you find that isn’t enough, just before your eyes lock back onto something that is.
Ellie stood there still, a mere few people ahead of you, looking just as good as she had two seconds ago.
Dina’s words echoed at the forefront of your mind, pushing past worried warnings. ‘The best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.’ You’d be damned if you let Abby hold this much power over you any longer.
With one heavy gulp, you downed the remnants of your drink, excusing yourself from your confused dance partner.
Fuck it.
You weaved through the crowd, each step purposeful, just slow enough to teeter on the edge of a tease.
Ellie seemed to stand just the slightest bit straighter as you approached. You kept your eyes on hers as you slowly took the drink from her hands. She let you. You took a sip.
She watched you quietly as you drank.
“You here with anybody?”
Jackpot.
Slowly, you shake your head, licking the drops of cold whiskey lying on your lips, as you handed back the glass. “Nope.”
You nearly miss the glint in her eye when you respond, eager, hungry. It only spurs you on.
“Wanna dance?” You offer.
The corner of her mouth lifted up at the invitation. “What about your partner?” She tiled her head to the floor, the girl you were with moments ago now lost in the crowd.
“Something tells me you’ll be better.” You practically purr, shameless in the way you look up at her, batting your lashes.
You catch the way her jaw tightens—so she liked that did she?—before relenting, hesitation lost as you took her by the hand, leading her into the crowd.
At first she’s stiff, hesitant even under the privacy of the dimly lit room, littered with people too preoccupied to really care. But you dance anyway, move like you’re one with the music. You come up close, pressing your back to her chest.
Carefully, you take her hands from behind you, slowly guiding them to rest comfortably on your hips, as you rolled them to the beat, every move encouraging her, asking her, to touch you more, to feel you closer.
It didn’t take long before you’d convinced her. You felt her hands snake up to your waist, gentle fingers dancing on thinly veiled skin, teasing and testing, as she pressed against you, breath hot against your ear. You’d be lying if you said it wasn’t turning you on.
She spun you slowly, so that you faced her, bodies pressed together. God, she looked ever better up close.
You let her hands linger at your sides, sliding up and down with a confidence that made it feel like you were hers. The space between you is barely existent, noses almost touching, breath fanning across your cheek, hot and hungry, the bitter bite of whiskey still there.
Your head swims. You can’t remember the last time you’d been this close with anybody. Had it always felt this good?
Her gaze cast downward as she eyed your lips, the space between you charged with anticipation.
Nothing stood between you. It would be so easy—to finally close the gap. All it would take was one move, one decision made by one person to inch just the slightest bit closer.
She looked back to you, eyes filled with a barely concealed desperation that begged you to give in, to disregard the fear and finally close what little space still remained.
Then, one final flicker to your lips.
That was all it took.
Electricity buzzed through you the moment your lips finally touched. You didn’t know who moved first, maybe it was you, or her. But right now you didn’t really care. Your brain practically shuts off as the intoxicating feeling consumes you completely.
The kiss was raw, messy, brimming with a desperation you moments ago didn’t think anyone but you felt. Yet you felt it here.
Ellie’s lips felt like heaven against yours, or maybe hell, burning so hot it made you feel as though you’d been set on fire. She kissed you like a woman starved, her need to breathe secondary to keeping your lips on hers. Her hands roamed your body with all the desperation in the world, as she lost herself on your lips.
You leaned into her touch, every inch of skin her hands touched suddenly felt as if it had been set ablaze. You gasped, breaths dying on her lips. A hushed moan left your throat when she finally pulled away.
Inches from your face, Ellie stared at you, panting now, watching as your chest rose and fell alongside hers. Her eyes sparkled with an insatiable hunger as she whispered to you.
“Wanna get out of here?”
You practically darted out of the club, shamelessly weaving through the crowd, eyes scanning for the closest exit.
Ellie’s car was parked out back—a dark red Chevrolet, the top set down, the nameplate spelling out some word you couldn’t make out in the dark. You climbed into the car, scrambling over dark leather to reach not your seat, but her’s.
You straddled her lap, letting her groan into your neck, as she kissed your skin. Her hands continued their expedition, chasing closeness restlessly.
A gasp leaves your lips as you grind into her lap, surprised to find hard silicone providing you with the friction you sought out. That earns you a chuckle, low and breathy in your ear, as Ellie pulled away with one final kiss, long and drawn out, thick with promise. “We can finish this at mine.”
You don't remember the drive to Ellie’s apartment, or the elevator ride up. All you remember was the way you were the second you stepped in. Hungry, ravenous—desperation at its messiest. Ellie pinned you up against the walls of her apartment as you stumbled through doorways, lips all over you as her hands roamed your body like they were on a mission to cover as much ground as possible.
You tugged at the jacket on her shoulders with an eagerness that made her smile. “Someone’s excited.” She teased, quickly complying despite her words, as she shed the layer, letting it fall into a dark heap on the floor. You tried not to stare at the previously concealed muscle of her arm, so defined even in the dark of her living room. Goddamn.
Ellie’s voice was low as she kissed down the side of your neck, breath hot as she mumbled into your skin. “I h—fuck—I have a, a meeting tomorrow.”
“That’s fine.” You sighed against her head, high and breathy. “I-I think I have to leave early too—mmh.”
The laugh Ellie let out under her breath was anything but humorous. “Thank fucking god.”
Her lips were back on yours within seconds, her body leading you to her bedroom as fast as she could, hands running along the sides of your waist.
Crinkles creeped onto the smooth comforters of her bed as she settled on the edge, firm hands pulling you closer, as they spanned the small of your back, positioning you between her legs.
Gentle moonlight cast itself on Ellie’s face as she looked up at you, her chin resting gently on your lower abdomen. Her hands rested comfortably on the backside your hips as you observed her face—the dark of her pupils taking up a concerning area of her irises, the mass of mused auburn framing her face, the barely discernible flush dusting her freckled cheeks.
Carefully, you took each of her hands in yours, sliding them off your body, before pulling away. A surprised face stared back quietly as you stepped away, bare feet passing against cool marble. The tight fabric of your dress clung to your body like a perfectly tailored fabric of constellations, taken straight from the night sky, glitter catching in the pale light streaming in through the window.
Ellie looked entranced, watching with bated breath, as you slowly, wordlessly, reached for the zipper of your dress, dragging the little metal bead down painfully slow. You let the cloth fall into a shimmering pool at your feet, shivering slightly as cool air hit newly exposed skin.
If Ellie had somehow managed to hold herself back then, there was no way in hell she could now. She shook her head almost gravely, voice trembling a little as she spoke—something between a plea and a command.
“Fuck, c’mere.”
Her hands were back on you the second you stepped back into reach, touch brimming with need, as she pulled you onto her lap. She cupped your face with a desperate tenderness that didn’t feel entirely intended for you.
Still, you took it anyway.
You let her kiss your face, touch your body, hold your being with some stolen reverence. But it never felt enough. She was too far away. You needed her closer.
Pathetically, you pawed at her open collar. “Ellie, I-I want you in-“ “I know, Babe.” She cut you off, pressing her lips to yours, before nodding. “I know.”
She planted one, final kiss on your lips before finally slipping one hand into your lacy underwear, strong fingers prodding at your entrance, the sensation sending dizzying shivers down your spine.
“Mmhf-fuck.” You gripped her shoulder tighter, nails digging into skin.
Ellie chuckled lowly, the sound breathy, barely humorous, completely failing to mask the desperation. She cursed under her breath. “Jesus Christ, you’re fucking soaked.”
You earn another low laugh when all you do is gasp in response, as one lithe, skillful finger finally plunges into your entrance. After going untouched for so long, the contact has you seeing stars.
She leaned to your side, lips lightly brushing the soft skin of your ear, as she pumped one steady finger in. “Fuck, you're so tight.” She cursed beneath her breath, overwhelmingly aware of how eagerly you seemed to pull her in deeper..
“Take my fingers, baby.” You tossed your head back, broken moan escaping from your throat, as Ellie talked you through it. “Mhmm, that’s it.”
You leaned back in her lap, arms wrapped tightly around her neck, as you held on for dear life, hips beginning to move to the rhythm of her hand. “Fuck, Ellie-“ you choked out amongst a breathy chorus of whimpers, tension quickly building in your lower abdomen.
“Yeah, ride my fingers, Baby.”
She let out a soft moan herself, cracking a little, higher than you thought it would be. The sound is unexpected, but more than welcome, only serving to push you closer to the edge.
“God, you’re so hot.” Ellie whispered into your chest, her final words of praise finally pushing you off.
You let out another broken cry, eyes fluttering shut, crease between your brows, swollen lips forming a soft ‘o’, as you reached your high, letting Ellie help you ride it out.
Softly, she hummed into our ear, pressing little kisses into the far sides of your cheek. “So good for me, huh?”
You nod in response, too lost in euphoria to think, the action only causing Ellie to groan against you. Her fingers slowed as your hips began to settle, your breathing beginning to even out.
She allowed you a moment to rest, before sliding her fingers out gently, the sudden loss of contact making you whine, feeling empty once more. She laughed lowly, gently handling your chin so you faced her. “You think we were done?” You’re so thankful it’s almost laughable. You simply shake your head, mouthing a silent little ‘Please.’
That’s all it takes before your mouth is back on hers, before her hands return to what feels like their rightful place on your body. Before you’re lifting your hips up to allow her room to undo her pants.
She gazed up at you, the short auburn locks that escaped her now loose half ponytail falling before her eyes, as she took you in; your flushed face, your tousled hair and smudged makeup, the thin sheen of sweat coating the top of your forehead. Some salacious satisfaction hits her at the knowledge that she did that.
“Ready?” She asked lowly, lining herself up at your entrance. The silicone head pressed against you, rousing a moan from your mouth. She smirked up at you, suppressing a laugh, as she cocked her head to the side, taunting. “You really want this—?”
It comes out as a whine. “Please. Please fuck me, Ellie.” You cut her off with a high-pitched plea, any sliver of self respect now completely abandoned with the sparkly pool on the floor.
Your sudden shamelessness had Ellie pausing, momentarily stunned. Then, she shook her head, smirking to herself like she couldn’t believe who she had on top of her just then. “Don’t worry, Baby. I fucking will.”
Her hands rested firm on your hips, guiding you, as you sunk down slow, allowing you time to adjust to the added girth of her strap, the pain and pleasure of the stretch rousing more hushed whimpers from your lips.
“That’s it, baby.” Ellie groaned into your ear, pressing soft, wet kisses along your jaw. “Taking it so well for me.”
It takes you a second to adjust, but once you do, the pleasure consumes you, the coil in your body already beginning to tighten once more.
You managed a nod at a waiting Ellie, gaze patient yet filled with anticipation, oh-so-thankful when she’s finally given the permission to move.
The first few thrusts were slow, somewhat unsure, testing for the right angle and the right rhythm. You let Ellie take the lead, steady movements stretching you wide from below. “Such a good fucking girl.” She whispered softly, the words slow and deliberate, spoken like she really meant them.
It didn’t take long before her pace quickened and you began moving your body along with hers, shameless, fucked out moans filling the dark of her bedroom. “Mhmm, you got it.” “Keep going, Babe.” She’d whisper into your ear, sweet little lines of breathy encouragement.
Her hands moved everywhere, but always seems to linger a little longer on your tits, groping and pinching in all the right places, only intensifying the consistent waves of pleasure ramming into you. “Fu-uck.” You gasped into her hair. “I-I’m getting close.”
Ellie kept her hands on you, whispering breathlessly into your neck, as her hips moved faster beneath you. “Mmh-yeah? You gonna cum for me, Baby?”
You threw your head back once more, letting Ellie pull you in closer as you did the same, fingers threaded through her hair, grabbing onto anything as you lost your mind.
A broken “Holy f-fuck.” was the last thing you managed to get out before you came, broken moans and strangled gasps filling the room as your vision flashed white.
She kept her thrusts steady as you rode out your high, hands on your body grounding and intoxicating all at once. Her movements evened out gradually, gently bringing you down.
A few soft sounds left your lips when she pulled out, sensitivity taking over. Strong hands gripped your waist as she helped you raise your hips higher, whispering soft “You did so good f’me.”’s and tenderly kissing the flushed, supple skin of your cheek.
She layed you down on the bed when she was done, fingers gently ghosting over skin. Her all-consuming eyes, full of that unaffected reverence you were sure wasn’t intended for you, were the last thing you saw before the night’s exhaustion finally took over and you surrendered to sleep.
The startlingly cheery music of your ringtone shook you awake, causing you to jolt against the silky hotel sheets.
Begrudgingly, you rolled over to the nightstand, sunlight blinding you as you reached for your phone, squinting, desperate for the incessant noise to stop.
Relief washed over you as you click the alarm shut, eager to surrender once more to the confines of sleep. But just as you were about to set your phone down, a stack of text messages piled at the bottom of your lock screen caught your attention.
Half-awake, you clicked on them, lightly skimming the words, each message drawing you further and further toward the light of consciousness.
From Dina: Oh my fucking god you will not believe who the meetings with 11:38 p.m.
From Dina: Ellie. Williams. Rockstar. Literally do not fuck her PLEASE. 11:38 p.m.
From Dina: BITCH WRU?? TELL ME U DIDNT 9:46 a.m.
From Dina: HELP??! WE’RE STARTKNG 10:01 a.m.
From Dina: COME. NOW. 10:08 a.m.
Suddenly, you were wide awake, nearly dropping your phone as you scrambled to of bed—out of the room, out of the unfamiliar apartment you were too frazzled to acknowledge—taking with you whatever articles of clothing you managed to grab on the way out.
You must’ve looked insane running out of the hotel; makeup smudged, hair a mess, memory hazy, wearing nothing but three yards of sparkly Versace and some rich stranger’s leather jacket.
Nevertheless, you persisted, racing down the city’s bustling streets like your life depended on it.
It took a solid eight minutes before you reached magazine HQ, but once you did, you showed no signs of stopping, darting down the office halls like a woman crazed as you cursed yourself for opting to wear heals the night before.
Eventually, after an eternal elevator ride and a quick race down the hallway, the meeting room faded into view, accompanied by a muffled chorus of bickering voices, angry sounds permeating through the room’s glass walls.
You hobbled toward the door, frosted glass keeping you from fully seeing anything inside, as you gripped its cold metal handle hastily.
One particularly distressed voice rose up as you stepped closer.
“This is a disaster! I mean who even-who even is that?”
Your body moved before your brain did, laser focused on just getting into the room.
You pushed the door open, applying way more force than you needed to, as you to stumbled forward ungracefully. The violent clack of your stilettos echoed against the polished floor, announcing your arrival.
Heads turned. The room went silent.
The world seemed to freeze.
Slowly, you looked up to find a room full of distressed faces staring at you, among which was Clara’s—absolutely livid.
At first you don’t notice anything else, too petrified, mind wandering to the terrible consequences you’d no doubt later face, until your eyes drift up to the article flashed up on the projector screen on the front wall of the room.
The image is the first thing that caught your attention; a familiar red car parked outside the back entrance of a club, and inside…
Your heart drops.
There you are—and it’s so obviously, undeniably you; nearly topless and tousled, face on full display, brows knit together as you straddled another figure in the driver’s seat—short auburn hair tied half up, a leather jacket on her shoulders.
You’re suddenly aware of the identical garment currently resting on your shoulders—the same one you’d grabbed from the apartment floor where you’d…
Finally, you managed to tear your eyes away from the flaming train wreck on screen, gaze crossing the room to find a worryingly familiar face at the other end of the table.
Holy shit.
Ellie’s eyes almost looked as wide as yours as she stared back at you, frozen in her seat like she, too, was beginning to realize how huge of a mistake she’d just made.
Everything ran through your head in a dizzying rush; the promotion, your job, your reputation, your career as a whole—everything.
All ruined in one, single night. By one, single girl.
And you were staring straight at her.
In that moment you’d never regretted a decision as much as you did right then, peering into those peridot pools which promised nothing but trouble.
You realized it now.
You should’ve run when you had the chance.
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁ .
← prologue | chapter two →
a/n: hey!! thanks so much for making it to the end! again, this got so much longer than i intended for it to be TT the next chapter will be shorter for sure. this is my first full length fic, so i’m sorry if it feels clunky! but i do hope you enjoyed nonetheless! thanks again!! <33
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