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itsharleystuff · 4 months

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╰─▸ 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

‘ I just wanna be one of your girls tonight ’

— 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Rockstar!Joel x afab!fem!reader (no outbreak alternative universe).

— 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 8.7k

— 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Your best friend’s boyfriend has an older brother that turned out to be the guitarist of a famous rock band from the 80s. You meet Joel by accident before his concert and things take an interesting turn.

— 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ content (minors dni!), age gap (Joel is 48, reader is said to be in college tho her age isn’t specified), sex, p in v sex, porn with barely any plot, sex with a “stranger”, a bit of dirty talk, oral sex (f), use of ‘slut’, praise, mirror sex, fingering, some oral (m), cum eating, reader calls Joel an ‘old man’, smoking (they share a cigarette), pet-names (sweetheart, darling, honey). Also, I know nothing about guitars or concerts so this is probably very inaccurate. This one’s roughly edited, forgive meee. No use of y/n.

— 𝐌𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐜 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬: One of the girls - The Weeknd, Lily Rose-Depp, Jennie. Breakin’ dishes - Rihanna. Todas mueren por mi - Cartel de Santa.

Third-wheeling has now unintentionally become your most recurrent hobby since your best friend started dating Tommy Miller. Not that either of them minded, given that it was their idea.

Tonight was different, however.

"I could've been a part of it, y'know?" the man boasts, "I just didn't know how to play any instruments or how to arrange tunes... I have a nice voice, though. If that counts for anything."

Ary, your friend, giggles at his statement and replies with a comment that you didn't quite listen. Tommy's car stereo is currently blasting The Clashers' latest album— Joel Miller's rock band, that is. Two days ago, you had no idea who the eldest Miller was –only that he existed–, much less that he was the guitarist of a very popular 80s band. Now his brother is taking you and his girlfriend to their gig, to which he was given front row tickets. Nice.

Their music was actually pretty good, though some of the songs sounded more country than rock. Tommy explained that those were most definitely written by his brother, due to his love for the genre. Apparently, The Clashers have had a recent comeback with their newest album and a small tour, all after a long, undefined hiatus that went on for nearly a decade and a half. "Joel's fault", the younger Miller said, "he became a father. A single one, to top it off. But he's the best at it, don't ever doubt that."

"How old is he again?" you wonder, suddenly curious about the age gap between the siblings.

"Forty-eight. His girl Sarah just turned nineteen a couple months ago." You nod absentmindedly at the response.

You met Tommy almost a year ago, when Ary and you used to work at a cafeteria outside of Dallas' university. She'd graduated a few years ago, but needed money to pay her rent and coincidentally, you did too. You hit it off right away, becoming friends but also roommates in further time. Though you were still in college and she was a bit older, that never seemed to be an issue with your friendship or your schedules. Tommy came along shortly after, turning up every day at the café with his charisma and nice manners, making his intentions with Ary very clear since the beginning.

"D'you think there'll be a crowd?" your question makes her raise a brow quizzically.

"Most likely," she retorts thoughtfully. "Why? Are you regretting your own idea?"

Her boyfriend chuckles at that, knowing perfectly well how much you disliked loud, cramped places. It's not that you didn't enjoy this sort of events once in a while, but being someone who gets easily overwhelmed around people, you mostly prefer the sort of lay-back dates. Nevertheless, it was you who came up with this plan for today. With college giving you such a hard time and your colleagues being tremendous assholes lately, you needed something out of your comfort zone to fully unwind. Some action to pull you off the dull routine.

"Are you subtly implying that I'm a boring person?" you ask, falsely offended, crossing both arms over your chest. "Cause I swear I know how to loosen-up, I just need time to... Get used to it."

Tommy seems to be holding back laughter, but Ary doesn't even try to hide her amusement. "Girl, you're lucky I'm your friend, or else you'd be rotting in our local library," she scoffs.

You roll your eyes playfully, a smirk pursing your lips, "Yeah, cause that'll be such a tragedy. Who'd support you financially if I didn't study, huh?" you turn your head to her boyfriend. "Tommy?"

The man shrugs his shoulders, fighting against the urge to grin. "Oh, dear," she glances over her shoulder to look at you from the shotgun seat, bright smile painting her face. "Don't give him any ideas. He might just marry me."

✩ ° ｡⋆⸜ 🎧

Whilst Tommy went looking for a place to park, you and Ary walked to the nearest convenience store to grab some beverages. You were still running early anyway, which only meant a quick stop wasn't going to imply much trouble.

"I'll wait for you out here," with a head tilt, you silently indicate your friend to go ahead. "I need a cig."

She nods understandingly, "Want me to grab something for ya'?"

"No, I'm alright. Don't worry about it."

Ary stopped at the entrance to look back at you, staring intently for a weird extent of time, her eyes sparkling with joy. "Did I mention you look stunning?"

"You might've had, but that doesn't mean I don't love hearing it," the reply widened her smile. Once she went inside the store, you took a chance to peer at your reflection in the showcase.

This whole eighties vibe was certainly not something you were used to, but there was no denying how hot it made you appear. Aiming for a 'rockstar girlfriend' kinda look, you went for that smudgy, dark eye-makeup; as for the clothes, the mini skirt, low-cut bustier and oversized leather jacket paired with some nice boots kept the whole outfit together.

You blinked away, stunned by how confident you suddenly felt in your own skin. Chuckling to yourself, you started digging in your purse for a smoke. And as if the gods decided to toy with your faith, you luckily found a single one sitting at the very bottom; putting the filter between your lips, you then turned your bag upside down to search for the lighter, only to find that you hadn't brought it with you.

"Damnit," you spat in frustration, closing your eyes to picture in your mind where the last place you'd left it was.

Maybe it was next to your bed, on the nightstand; or perhaps in front of the stove... No, it definitely wasn't in the kitchen. The blurry image in the back of your head resembled more of a–

"Hey," a low, masculine voice called from beside you in a mellow tone, almost as if this mysterious man had a naturally sly nature but wanted to cool it down. "Need a light?"

He had a deep, soothing ring; raspy, profound and very southern-like. Frankly, you didn't know what you were expecting before setting your eyes on him, but it definitely wasn't a man such as he was. A wave of emotions washed over your body as you pried on him; big, broad, rugged and devastatingly handsome. Not to mention older than you— however, how much older is not a detail you care to find out. Your skin felt ticklish and warm, added to the sudden acceleration of your pulse.

First thing you noticed were his big brown eyes, shiny in sort of a childish way, regardless of the wrinkles that surrounded them when he politely simpered. You could tell he was a total heartthrob by the way his lips quirked and his head tilted downwards when addressing you.

He's thick in the arms and wide in the shoulders, something that was noticeable despite the black leather jacket he was wearing over a plain white t-shirt, tucked into a pair of worn-out denims. The cowboy hat on his head casts shadows upon his face but you're still able to make up his features: aquiline nose, strong jawline, soft lips under a styled mustache and a patchy, graying beard. Tall and handsome as hell.

"Yeah," you answer as soon as your mind allows you to, suddenly feeling your mouth dry when realizing you were staring. He bit back a smirk as he gauges at your reaction. "You've got one?"

"Lucky for you, I do." His left hand disappeared in the pocket of his jacket, taking out a simple red lighter. "I don't suppose you've got a cigarette to spare, do ya'?"

"Sorry," you frown apologetically, "this is my last."

He closed the gap between you, but instead of handing the lighter, he hunched down to lit the end of the dart still hanging from your lips, caging it with his big hand. And fuck, he smelled good. A mix of cedar and sandalwood, fresh and manly.

"No worries, doll." Dizzy with his presence, your eyes unconsciously bored into his. You can't move away, diving inside his pupils like you're hypnotized. "I'll just buy a pack for myself."

Caught up in that urge of keeping him near, you take the dart between your fingers and hear yourself say: "Unless you wanna share."

It was impulsive, not to mention irrational. Yet, all of the rational thoughts inside your brain had unforeseeably vanished in thin air, replaced by a strange need that rested in the pit of your stomach, a wicked desire that rushed through your veins like a drug. His brow shot up in surprise, giving you a subtle, pleased nod. He realizes there's something else behind your proposition, nothing that could be hidden with the way you're shamelessly looking at him.

"Let me guess," he commences, his calloused fingers brushing against your own when he takes the cig, orange end stained with your lipstick, "you're headed to the concert."

Your eyes squint with a crooked smile, "Are you that perceptive or am I just that obvious?" he takes a short drag, holding the fag with a nonchalant attitude and a mannerism that expressed experience.

"Bit of both," the shadows of smoke surround his face, hiding his features behind a thick, mysterious fog. "You've got that groupie vibe to ya'. The kind of girl that has her walls filled with boy-band posters," he jokes.

"Oh, is that it?" you ask playfully, mirroring his action to let the nicotine circle your system. "Cool it, cowboy. I ain't trynna get in trouble for fighting an old man."

He chuckles at your sarcastic remark and you can see the spark of a thin chain around his neck, along with the soft curls that gathered at his nape. Jesus, his side profile was divine.

"What's your name, darlin'?" he asks. You tell him, that southern drawl of his being more noticeable when echoing it. "You from around?"

"Yeah," you blow the smoke away from him, though he takes back the dart while you're at it. "Been here my whole life. You?"

He shakes his head lightly, "Austin. But I've been all over."

You can't help but smile inwardly, "That explains it."

"What thing?" the man asks with a certain intrigue.

"Nothing... You've just got that particular vibe." He's already laughing when you point at the cowboy hat, rejoicing in the way you played with his own words.

"I see that, groupie." He takes the almost consumed cigarette between his teeth and removes the hat from his head, running a hand through his soft curls. "Let's trade."

You watch in awe as he unexpectedly places the hat atop your own head. It sits well there and the way his eyes grow dark and his lips curve upwards can only mean he likes it too.

"What'cha think?" you inquire, slightly adjusting it.

"I think..." he eyes you up and down, ashing the cig with a tap of his index, "You should keep it. In exchange, I'll just take what's left of this lung-junk."

"Well, that doesn't seem like a fair trade," you cross both arms over your chest. "Isn't there anything else you want apart from that half-burnt smoke?"

His head tilts to the side as he meditates his answer, his chocolate hair now messy and a couple of those brown curls hanging loose across his forehead. For a moment, you're worried you might've sounded too raunchy for the occasion, but he looks pretty pleased. His eyes lock with yours and you feel your knees wobbly just from that undeniable tension that lingers in the air.

"I'll tell you what, sweetheart." Sweetheart. Damn, he's good. "Find me after the concert's over. You can repay me then with whatever you might find convenient."

Your brows crease at the scheme, curious, "How will I find you, though? I'm certain there'll be a lot of people."

He laughs darkly, like he knew something you didn't –which, to be fair, was probably true–. "Just ask for Joel. I'm sure someone will point you to the right direction."

Joel.

Joel...

Joel?

Could it be...?

"See ya' around, groupie." He sets off with a subtle head gesture, waving back at you.

Your mind was spinning so fast that you didn't even notice when Ary reappeared beside you, rambling something about a woman being annoying over the prices and fighting cashiers, too worked up to even notice your distraught— or your new acquisition.

✩ ° ｡⋆⸜ 🎧

The venue was crammed with people and there was a heady scent of pot all over the place, not unusual in these sorts of businesses. Thankfully, Tommy had arrived earlier to guide you through the masses.

"Here," he said, taking you and his girlfriend by the wrist. "We've got VIP seats, no need to go all the way down there." He pointed the barricade, where a ton of people were congregated to get the better spot.

The area in which you were located had a better view of the stage and was way more comfortable. Only till you finally sat down did Ary notice the new addition to your outfit.

"Did you buy that outside the store?" she wonders, sorta screaming to make herself heard over the mass. Tommy's eyes land curiously on you.

"Yeah, something like that."

"Funny," the man mumbles to himself, shaking his head lightly. "Very funny."

"What?"

"Well," he clears his throat and licks his lips nervously, "I just think it's funny that you'd get a cowboy hat in one of my brother's gigs."

Still in the shadows, you raise your shoulders to beguile him into spilling the details, "Why's that?"

Tommy taps his knee anxiously. "You see, when Joel was younger he'd often 'gift' his hats to any girl that would catch his eye. It was a way of... I don't know, making them one of his girls, you could say. By doing so, the other band members would see her and no one would dare to make a move."

His words fell upon you like an ice bucket. Joel, Joel, Joel. It just had to be the same Joel, because honestly, what were the chances?

Before you can retort, or even form an answer in your brain, the lights go out and the crowd bursts in cheers and shouting. But you can't for the life of you pay any mind to them, too focused on Tommy's story ringing in your ears. Seconds prior to the lights going on again, the sound of a single guitar key reverberated through the venue.

Did Joel Miller just mark you like cattle so no other man would approach you? Was that some kind of sick game he liked to play? If that were the case, you can't really say you're mad about it... Mostly thrilled, so to speak.

"So what would happen afterwards?" you asked, leaning to his ear, so you could make yourself be heard.

"Huh?"

"He'd make his move and then what?"

The man slightly winced as if you had just asked him the dumbest question in the book, "I think you know the rest."

You knew.

Of course you knew.

There's a voice saying "Goodnight, Dallas" and the spotlight is now on the five men standing on stage. You didn't even need to search for his image, your eyes immediately attaching to him like a magnet. A feeling of beguilement settles in your bones as you realize you've achieved that excitement you hoped to get tonight, at last.

Amidst chaos and loud screaming, he stood there in all his glory, perfectly aware of the impression his sole presence could cause. Messy brown hair, sun-kissed skin and that patchy, graying beard. Convenience store Joel turned out to be rockstar Joel.

The only thing that was different about his appearance were the dark aviator sunglasses that gracefully framed his face, a belt with a big, round buckle and the black Epiphone Wilshire guitar that was strapped to his shoulder with a sash. All of this new fashion somehow made him more physically appealing, if that was indeed possible. He looked like the type of man you'd rip off from a magazine and stick up in the corners of your vanity; the kind of star that girls and women would salivate over.

You could totally see the fascination and understand why it was easy for him to simply pick out someone he liked and take them back to his dressing room for a nasty time. Joel Miller was that guy.

In the back of your mind you register the fact that you're probably eye-fucking him whilst his younger brother and your best friend are both standing at your right. But you can't really help it— he was just so electrifying, such a magnetic force of a man. The whole world seemed to stop as the concert carried on, though you can only make out the melodies when you're far too distracted by Joel's charisma and mysterious air.

The way he moves on stage, too focused on his own act, fingers tugging at the strings and metal vibrating underneath his touch... It's fascinating how he makes it look easy and like a tremendous labour at the same time, pulling it all off with a wolffish smile on his face. The other band members had their own charm too, but your preference was undeniable.

They played the songs that you had been previously listening to, and the fact that they're being played live just amplifies the feeling of intimacy regarding the lyricism and musicality. Songs that talk about life's hardships, love, heartbreak and carnal desires. They all just hit different.

Towards the end of the concert, Ary started feeling dizzy, the amount of people and sudden dehydration giving her signs of a posible migraine. She tried not to say anything for the sake of your fun, realizing just how much you're enjoying yourself tonight. But at the end she truly couldn't, deciding to tell Tommy she needed to step back for awhile and go get some fresh air.

"I should go with her," you said in concern. His boyfriend shook his head and patted your shoulder.

"I'll go. You can stay if you want to, just call me if something feels off and I'll be back in a sec," he said reassuringly.

It took a few seconds to agree, although you eventually did. The event was almost over anyways. "Tell me if anything happens."

"F'course."

You watch as he leaves behind her with a certain remorse in your gut. The Clashers play three more songs afterwards, turning out to be much more emotional and heartfelt than you could've expected.

One by one, every single band member thanked the audience before the lights went out completely and the crowd stopped their clapping and cheering.

In order to avoid getting stuck at the exit from the people storming out, you decided to stay back and wait. You intended to reach your friend via message, sending a short "everything alright?" that did not deliver due to the awful signal. Only then did you start to grow nervous and more worrisome.

"Excuse me," out of nowhere, one of the security guards called for you when no one else was around –aside from the scattered people that had the same idea as you did–; a tall man with a 'staff' pin on his shirt. He asked for your name, but something about the way he worded the question made you believe he already knew it. "You've got a backstage invitation."

"A backstage invitation?" You tried holding back laughter. "From whom?” your eyes narrowed at a new clue. “Wait... Did Tommy meet up with Joel?"

The staff member furrowed his brows in surprise, "You came here with Miller's brother?"

"Huh? Yes... Isn't that why you approached me?" the stranger gave you a kind, slightly embarrassed smile.

"No, but you should come with me. Joel's in fact the one that asked."

"Oh..."

So, it was him after all.

'Someone will point you to the right direction', turned out to be quite literal.

You agreed to follow the guard. Maybe Joel could just reach Tommy and tell him you were fine. Although that'll mean you'd have to explain how you two had met. Well, shit... It’s not like it was a bad thing, right?

✩ ° ｡⋆⸜ 🎧

Backstage dressing rooms tend to be different depending on the facility where an event is held. In this case, there were rooms with the artist's names hanged on them and a handful of people moving around, spitting orders and following instructions. Everyone was so involved in their own affairs that no one really seemed to notice you, specially standing next to the security guy, who knocked twice on the guitarist's door.

It didn't take long before he appeared before you, that post-concert glow brightening up his features. His cocky smirk told you just how certain he was that you'd end up here eventually and how glad he was for it. You gave a quick nod to the man that guided you here and he disappeared just as quick as he came.

"Hey there, groupie."

"Joel." Your lips unconsciously curved, too. "I believe I owe you something." His hair was ruffled and the sunglasses rested atop his head, looking better up-close than he did on stage.

"Wanna come in?" the question sounded so genuine and innocent, it almost made you believe there wasn't a meaning behind it... Yet, you knew; you were both aware.

"Sure, but-" there was something you had to tell him... God, he smelled good— what was it you had to tell him? "Won't they scold you for having me here?"

His dressing room was fairly spacious, with a small leather couch, a coat stand with a couple of jackets and shirts hanging. His guitar rested on the corner, tucked inside its case; facing the couch was some kind of vanity where celebrities could get their makeup done, the lights around the mirror reflected a warm light.

"Don't think so, darlin'. I'm way too old for a scolding," he joked, closing the door behind you.

The very moment you were left alone, away from any prying eyes, the air shifted entirely; as if this whole space was your own private setting. That same feeling you experienced outside the store somehow crawled under your skin once more, adrenaline rushing through your veins in a crushing expectation.

"Did you enjoy the show?" you nod distractedly.

"I did. But I ain't gonna lie, it was a total shocker to find out that the hot guy I'd just met was actually a part of the group." Joel's eyes gleamed with an unfamiliar simplicity that invited you in and provided a certain comfort.

"I wish I could've seen your face," he retorted, his voice smooth and low.

"Why?" you bicker, "So I could further boost your ego? No, thanks."

He chuckles softly, his eyes squinting to reveal the tiny wrinkles that form around them; a sign that he's always been the type to laugh without remorse. Those are the small details that make him even more attractive in your perspective.

You lean against the makeup board, giving your back to the mirror and crossing both arms over your chest. The heel of your boots had started to feel uncomfortable, so you placed one leg across the other to shift some of the weight whilst his gaze followed your every move intently; the unfathomable depth of his eyes stirred something inside you, an urge to unleash your impurest thoughts.

"You've got quite an attitude, don't ya', groupie?" the man questions with humor. "But I'm pretty sure you just called me hot, so, either way, my ego was boosted," he pointed out smugly.

"Joel," you click your tongue, subtly shaking your head. "I bet there's tons of women saying that about you, and there's no doubt in my mind that you’re aware of it already."

That could not be denied. Throughout his life, Joel had always been aware of his charm and good looks, which eventually brought him popularity amongst the group. After having Sarah, he saw himself forced to tone down the amount of affairs and adventures he'd have, specially as a single father, always trying not to get his daughter's hopes high if she saw him with someone.

Honestly, despite him being back on track with the 'celebrity' lifestyle, he still wasn't planing on keeping up with his old tricks of bringing women backstage and giving them something to gush about with her friends. He really hadn't gotten involved with anyone during the tour until now... And it wasn't something he'd intended to do either. Everything happened so spontaneously, the way you two sort of bonded and just met out of the blue. Joel's goal wasn't any of this at first, he merely thought of how gorgeous you were and how comfortable he felt in your presence.

However, logic and good sense abandoned him the minute your eyes gaped at him; dark and alluring, with a spark in them that he could not escape, an intriguing verve that entranced him and crept under his skin. From that moment forward, he could only think about you while being on stage, hoping to catch a glimpse of your skin amongst the crowd but having to settle with the fresh image of you on his mind: your confident mannerisms, your striking smile and how good your legs looked in that mini-skirt. He tried to put on his best performance just to impress you.

"Yet, your perception of me is the only one I currently care about," he declares, taking a few decided steps towards you.

You beam, keeping your head held high, "I gotta give it to you, Joel. The hat thing, your whole performance... Very clever."

He's taken aback by your words, surprise written all over his face. "What d'you mean?"

"Come on, Joel," you reply with a roughish grin. "You really thought I wouldn't hear all about your schemes? Oh, here I believed I was special," you joke.

The man gets rid of that 'respectful' distance that kept you apart, slowly making his way to you, exuding that perpetual arrogance he naturally carried and never breaking eye contact. You returned the same energy; piercing his soul with those siren eyes, barely tilting your head back to expose your throat and unhooking your arms to give him a better sight of your breasts. Intentional or not, those little details were driving him insane.

"You are special, sweetheart," he murmurs, emphasizing the second word. "All of my girls are."

He was quite close now, his scent dazing your senses and the warmth of his body, plus that southern drawl of his, formed goosebumps on your skin. With boosted confidence, you reach out to softly grab the lapels of his jacket. You wait for him to push you away, scold you or react negatively... though he never does. Instead, his eyes fall from yours to your lips, licking his own distractedly. You motion to remove the shades form his head and place his hat back on, adjusting it lightly. In the meantime, you take your time to run your fingers through his hair, drag them along his jaw, feel the raspy sensation of his beard scratching your fingertips.

"S'that so?" you whisper, your breath fanning across his cheek. "You know what I want...?" His eyelids shudder, a muscle twitching on his neck as you lean to pour the next words into the shell of his ear. "I just wanna be one of your girls, Joel Miller..."

Those words have an immediate effect on him, his eyes darkening with blown away pupils. Your hand lowers to his chest, conscious of the strength with which his heart was beating, the heat of his feverish skin there where you touched him. His palms land on your hips, caressing the covered skin as they make their way to your waist.

"We'll see 'bout that, darlin'," he hushes, cupping your face with his right hand to keep you steady, restrain your control over him. His face is barely inches away from yours, practically breathing each other in. "You know what's gonna happen now, don't you?"

You gulp in suspense, eyes glued to his lips, waiting, wishing he'd just kiss you. "Yes..."

"Good," Joel's thumb swipes across your bottom lip, slowly coaxing your mouth open. "Is this what you want?"

You can barely muster up the courage to speak, nearly falling from the tension. "Please..."

"Mmm..." his nose rubs against yours and your eyes close instinctively. "That's not an answer, sweetheart."

Your hands fist on his shirt, desperate to touch him. "Yes, Joel."

"That's my girl," he praises, effectively creating a pool of arousal that smothers your underwear. But you've barely got any time to process it before his lips are finally on yours.

The kiss knocks the air out of your lungs, his plump lips molding against yours. Your fingers play with the curls at the base of his neck, your nails scratching his skin deliciously. Everything feels hot all of the sudden, the need to get rid of your jacket latent on the edges of your body. Joel holds your waist and quickly sits you fully on top of the board, making you squeal from the abruptness of the action; this way he can settle himself between your legs and flush his chest to yours. His lips never part from yours, swallowing down any noise that escaped your mouth.

The coarse fabric of his jeans feels rough against your exposed skin, his hands coming to grab the back of your thighs, sliding them beneath the hem of your skirt as you wrap your legs around his waist. The kiss is breathy and intense, you taste him when your tongue drags inside –a mix of mint and cigarettes–, your teeth crashing when he tries to assert his dominance by pulling your body closer to his. Your perfume, sweet and floral, lingers around him in a way that makes him want you even more. When he slowly licks your lower lip, you moan faintly and the sound makes him throb.

His fingers splay on your asscheeks, prodding you to feel the weight of his hardening cock against your inner thigh, consequently setting a fire in your lower belly. You catch his grunt in the kiss, the feeling of his mustache tingling on your skin whilst you grind your hips just to experience that friction once again, relishing in the familiar sensation of your arousal spilling into your panties, wet and warm. And fuck, part of you doesn't believe that this man is hard for you. Joel suddenly backs away, just enough to stare blankly into your eyes, casted with desire, and regain a bit of composure.

"Not a word about this, 'aight?" something you had figured he'd state sooner or later.

"Yes, sir. It'll be our dirty little secret," you grin right as he whispers a goddamnit.

Before he pulls you in for another heated kiss, you struggle to take your jacket off, taking your phone out of the pocket and hastily throwing it to the floor as he mimics your action. Joel uses this moment to fully take in the sight of you; the way your tits sit perfectly in that top, chest rising and falling from drawing ragged breaths, your exposed neck and shoulders, flushed skin ideal for him to nip at and trace with his lips. So he does just that.

He ghosts your mouth, towering over you but ignoring the need to reattach your lips to his. Alternately, he gently kisses your chin, making his way down your throat and between your collarbones. You're a panting mess under his touch, trying to keep yourself collected for the sake of not getting caught, yet failing when his teeth sank onto the pillowy flesh of your breast. You audibly gasp, holding onto his arm for dear life; though he simply huffs a laugh that vibrates through you.

"Don't worry, darlin'. In here, you can be as loud as you want to," he assures.

Joel descends to his knees in front of you and the image is far too erotic for you to hold back a whimper. He coaxes your knees farther apart, your denim skirt hunched up around your hips so he can peek at the red lace of your underwear. He grabs your calf and places a kiss to the side of your knee, looking up at you hungrily.

"Should we take this off?" he taps on your boot, calloused fingers tracing random patterns on your leg.

"Let's keep them on," you say, your hand stroking his cheekbone. "I want to wear them when I come on your cock."

His eyes glint with lust, "Fuck..." he rumbles, almost pained. "Who would've thought a pretty girl like you would have such a filthy tongue."

You can't help but smirk as his lips roam upwards, "You think I'm pretty?"

His gaze scorches with intensity, both his hands languidly sliding up your sides till his fingers hook on the edge of your panties, pulling them down your legs to take them off, "I think you're beautiful," he murmurs amidst. Your heartbeat hammers in your ears at the time he leans into the apex of your thighs, one of his brows quirking up at the sight of glistening slick sticking to your swollen skin.

"Poor thing," he coos, taking off the hat like a cowboy who's worked his whole shift and comes home to eat the best dinner he's ever had, placing it beside you. "You're so sensitive, baby..." you inhale sharply when he lays a teasing kiss on your inner thigh. "Been a while?"

You nod, though even if it has been a while since the last time you slept with someone, you're certain that most of your responsiveness falls onto Joel's doing. He tsked, shaking his head in the meantime and using his thumb to barely spread your folds. Your eyes look at him beneath heavy lids, lips parted as his mouth explores the area, his breathing tickling the sensitive skin.

"I'll take care of you, sweetheart."

Without warning, his tongue darts out to lick the slick around your entrance, ravishing on the sweet taste of your juices. Your fingers thread through his curls, swallowing hard at the new sensation. He takes his time with you, leisurely allowing your wetness to gather on his tongue, his nose nudging at your clit when he moves his head a certain way. It all makes your brain spin, overcome by the pleasure you're experiencing, actually permitting you to loose your cords and spill uninhibited whimpers that only egged him on.

"Shit, you're doing great..." you can feel his smile against your dripping core.

"You just taste amazing, darlin'," he's not lying. Joel's enjoying himself far too much as he buries his tongue between your folds, holding you tighter. "So fucking good..."

The back of your mind registers the brief pain of his fingertips digging in your flesh, thinking it may bruise in the morning. The other part can't even form a rational thought. You moan his name, calling out for something to ground you; but he's just as gone, if not way worse. Joel is bewitched by the headiness of you, clogging his senses entirely. It's been so long since he gave head, but he doesn't remember it like this— like he couldn't get enough, so eager to make you feel good, to hear those pretty sounds spill from your mouth.

"Oh my god..." you mewl when his lips close around your puffy clit, gently flicking his tongue over it whilst you run your hands through his locks.

He flattens his tongue against the bundle of nerves, tracing delicate circles that make your whole body shudder. You're messily dripping all the way down to the wooden surface as he selfishly alternates his attention between your aching bud and your hole.

"Look at you, honey," he mumbles, voice laced with desire. "Doin' so good for me."

His fingers swipe across your slit, making you squirm. "Joel, please-"

"I know, baby, I know..."

Though when he's about to dive in again, you catch the light of your phone through your peripheral vision: an incoming call. The ID read the name 'Tommy <3'.

Tommy???!!!!

"Shitshitshit," you quickly reach for the device, swiping the green button and muttering a wary wait to the man before you. Joel simply gawks at you with intrigue, the pads of his fingers still roaming around your core. "Hello?"

On the other side of the line, Tommy says your name with utter relief, "Thank god. I left you a thousand messages. Are you okay?"

More than okay. Your brother's tongue was inside my cunt just a few seconds ago, actually.

Obviously you can't say that.

"Uh... Yeah, everything's fine." You clear your throat, trying to mask the gasp that threatened to escape when Joel started rubbing tender circles on your clit. "The signal's just really bad."

"Yes, I noticed," he mutters, a bit frustrated. "Should I go get you? There's still plenty of people at the entrance and I don't want you to get lost."

"No- no..." you have to bite your bottom lip in order to muffle the unholy moan you were about to slip out. The bastard had just sinked one finger inside you experimentally, watching your face contort in pleasure as he reached for that particular spot. "I- have... Is Ary alright?"

"She took a pill and is knocked out in the backseats of my car right now," you can practically hear his smile as he speaks. "But... Are you sure you're okay? You sound... Agitated."

That was a way of putting it.

Joel is a greedy, jealous man. He wants all your undivided attention and will make sure to let you know. He decides to add a second finger, watching your eyes screw shut and your mouth gape as he curls them, your slick covering all the way to his knuckles.

"Yes, I met with a friend-" you tug at his hair hard enough to make him groan, his cock twitching with interest. "She's taking me home."

Your thighs start quivering and your body feels hot all over, an abrasive feeling of bliss rushing through every single nerve ending. You're close, and judging by the way you clench around his fingers, he knows too.

"Oh... Well, in that case just let me know once you get home. Please?" You think you answer, but you're not entirely sure. The call ends and your phone slips from your hand.

"Joel, I can't..." you whine when his lips latch to your nub once again, his fingers still working you open.

"Yes you can," he vows. You clutch at his curls with enough strength to work him up. "You're a big girl, you can take it."

And it's right then, when he repeatedly hits your g-spot, licking and sucking at your delicate clit, that your hips get a mind of their own, barely kept in place by Joel's strong grip on your hip. The coil finally snaps. You're not sure what you say, what words fall from your mouth... But they do dawdle on his mind. You shake from the magnitude of your orgasm, muscles starting to relax as Joel licks up every drop of your release, absolutely lost in the sweet taste of you. Your grasp on his hair loosened as he rose to his feet, letting you catch your breath.

He's on edge, his voice a hoarse rumble when he spoke. "Didn't anyone tell you," his left hand came up to brush his fingertips over your lips, "how rude it is to answer phone calls when this pretty pussy of yours is getting eaten?”

You lick your lips nervously. "I'm sorry..." he hums in response, "I'll make it up to you."

There's no time for him to reply since you crash your lips to his once again, frenetically searching to feel his weight pressed on top of you for a second time. This kiss is messy, rushed and needy. You can taste yourself in it as he pushes his tongue past your teeth.

Amidst the fuss, your hand snakes between your bodies to tug at his belt, fumbling to pop his pants open. Once you do, you can feel how warm and heavy his cock is, rock hard beneath your touch. He hisses at the flick of your wrist, moving up and down his length over the thin fabric of his boxers. Joel rests his forehead against yours to even his breaths, his chest heaving with a lustful sigh.

"Fuck," he grumbles, swiftly manhandling you so you're facing the mirror. His hand holds your face for you to stare back at your own reflection. "Aren't you a sight to behold?"

And you're certain that for a man like him, those words couldn't be truer. Sweat beads around your neck and sticks a couple hairs to your temples, eyes teary in the corners and lipstick smeared from the make out. Here and there your skin displays signs of his presence, part of you wishing they'd stay there till the next morning. If there was an accurate way to describe how you looked, that'll be wrecked.

"You should see yourself, Miller," you smirk, gesturing in his direction. His eyes reflected a prurient nature that added to his sex appeal, hair messy from your doing and an eager expression that gave him a downright pornographic aura. "Not bad for an old man."

His lips caress the back of your ear, hands driving the denim skirt farther up your hips. You cling to the edge of the work desk, making an effort to stand up in your weak knees, chills running down your spine when he gently nibbles at your earlobe.

"So much for not wanting to boost my ego, huh, sweetheart?" his gruff voice is both soothing and stirring, making all the blood rush straight to your pussy.

He parts your legs, spreading them with his knee and forcing you to bend forward a little. Your head turns to peek behind your shoulder, his every move being closely monitored by you, eyes widening when you finally fathom the sheer size of his cock. Your lower body pulsates with anticipation, another wave of arousal sticking to the inside of your thighs.

"Holy fuck-" you ramble as you watch him expertly roll a condom on his length. He's long and visibly thick, a prominent vein running from base to tip; your mouth waters just from the idea of wrapping your lips around it. "Shit..."

"Don't be getting all shy now, honey. Tis' what you wanted, then you're getting it," he rasps, lining himself between your legs.

"M'not shy," you retort, staring back at him through the mirror. "Was just thinking about how badly I wanted to blow you."

Joel stifles a groan, his hands snaking to your front to pull down the top and expose your tits. There was no need to wear a bra with a bustier, which you were glad for, cause it made it easier for him to pinch the peaked buds of your nipples. The head of his cock glides across your folds, coating it with the slick that keeps dribbling each time he bumps against your clit or makes you watch as he gropes your breasts.

"You talk like a slut." Your cheeks soared red and your pussy fluttered at the name-calling. The heat of his body on yours was simply intoxicating, making it difficult for you to think. "Is that how you want me to fuck you?" he whispers in your ear, nudging his cock at your entrance but not quite going in yet. "Nice and hard until I make an absolute mess out of you? Mmm?"

You nod, "Yes, god- yes. Please, Joel..."

He takes that plea as his cue to press himself inside you, slow and steady, allowing your body to adjust to the intromission. Your mouth falls ajar, nails scratching the wood under your fingers, vaguely squirming at the sharp sting of the stretch.

"That's it, takin' my cock so well," words of encouragement fall hoarsely form his lips like a chant and your body willingly melts into his. "See? I knew you could take it."

His thighs plunge to yours when he bottoms out at last, letting out a few pants and groans, his fingers pushing stray hairs out of your face. You can feel him jerk inside you, your walls enveloping his girth tightly, a wave of pleasure licking his spine at the feeling. He doesn't waste any more time, finding a pace of his liking as soon as he started moving and being relentless with it. The way his neck chain hits your shoulder blades with each thrust, the scrub of his beard when he kisses your temple and the dirty praises that he murmurs in your ear, somehow make the situation grounding; like it's really happening and you're not dreaming about it.

As Joel cradles you in his arms, your hand skirts to his nape in order to bring him in for a kiss. Each roll of his hips is calculated, deep and unswerving, knowing exactly how and where you liked it, studying your reactions. When he kisses you, he does so earnestly, almost affectionate in contrast to the rhythm in which his dick drags inside you– but it's short, the need for oxygen overpowering both. At this point, not even your stilted whimpers and his soft moans can mask the lewd sound of your squelching pussy or the sporadic noise of skin slapping against skin.

"Good fuckin' slut," he locks your jaw in place, pushing you to keep eye contact with your own reflection. "Sneakin' behind your friend's back to get fucked by a stranger –shit– an 'old man', nonetheless..."

Your stomach tenses each time the head of his cock grazes that sensitive spot within you, legs shaking at the way he speaks to you. Through the mirror, you see the way his thumb digs into your cheek, his hand cupping your breast as he twists your nipple in his fingers and the worst of all: that haughty fucking smile that suited him perhaps too damn well.

"I always did like them older," you utter, out of breath.

He chuckles darkly, heftily, letting his hand coast down your abdomen and reach your clit to tease it while he takes you from behind. The feeling was so intense that all you could do was claw at his bicep and let a hushed whine slip past your lips, knowing that a second orgasm was approaching faster than you had expected.

"Fuck, Joel- It feels so good..." your moans are like music to his ears, a syrupy melody that he wants to maintain on replay.

The way your pussy clenches around him, squeezing his length with every push, has his head fuzzy with sheer pleasure. And god- you look beautiful coming undone for him. No; because of him. He sees you looking at him through the reflection, pupils dark with an obscure desire, feels your cunt soak him every time he tells you how good you are, with each sound he makes just for you.

"I'm so close-" you warn, white sparks blurring your vision at the building of your crescendo.

"C'mon, come for me," he purrs, skillfully teasing your nub. "Wanna feel it— oh fuck, wanna feel you live up to your promise..."

Joel fucking whimpers, nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck as he pulls your hips to meet his pace. The sound is so enticing that it throws you off, wanting to engrave it in your mind. Your thighs waver and your back arches, an overwhelming sense of euphoria partaking your body. "I've got you, let me hear you," he fucks you through it, slowing down but never losing precision. "Right there, you did so good..."

In your state of frenzy, you feel his cock throbbing inside you, his grip on your body tightening: the classic telltale of his own climax looming. Through it all, with your heart thumping so loud that it's almost deafening, you blurt out a dulcet: "Come in my mouth..."

God help him.

He nearly loses it right then and there.

"As you wish," he sighed, his deep voice raspy with passion.

But he's an indulgent man, so he musters up the strength to pull out and snatch the condom away, throwing it to the trash can. You fall to your knees with no hesitation, arms stretching to reach the outline of his hips. Joel guides the ruddy head of his cock to your lips, spreading precome all over them before you fully take him in your mouth. You suck him earnestly, focusing on the tip and tracing the vein on the underside of his dick. He's so worked up that it doesn't take him long to start panting; head thrown back and hand grabbing firmly the back of your neck.

Your gaze stick to his, knowing perfectly the power of looking into his eyes. You love the taste of him, musky and strong; all man. All you can think of right at this moment is how you want more, so much more of him.

"Perfect," he slurs through gritted teeth. "Perfect girl."

You can't contain the hum that reverberates through him, pushing him over the edge whilst you massage his balls. A deep, guttural groan claws its way from his throat, hips stuttering and thighs trembling as he comes in thick, hot spurts down your throat. You swallow instantly, not thinking much about it and stroking his shaft unhurriedly until he's whimpering from overstimulation; though he doesn't tell you to stop or pushes you away, letting you work him up to the time of your choice. Once you're content, you straighten your posture and rearrange your top, roughly registering when he tucks himself back in his pants.

"You okay?" he asks, helping you get on your feet. His thumb swipes around your lips and chin to clean the smeared lipstick, a sweet concern dithering in his eyes.

“Feelin’ great,” you say with genuine joy, pulling your skirt downwards and grabbing your panties from the floor, laying next to your jacket and his guitar. “Thank you.”

“I should be the one thanking you,” he lends you a hand in putting your jacket back on. “It’s been a while since I’ve… Uh, well, you get it.”

You turn to face him, beaming radiantly. Gosh, you’re stunning. He’s certain he won’t forget those mesmerizing eyes of yours.

“Joel, let’s be honest with each other…” your hands shot up to caress his cheek and thread at his curls. You don’t believe him one bit. “We’ll meet again. You know we will.”

You didn’t really mean it, merely wanting to make an impression. But there was a minuscule possibility that your paths would cross for a second time; after all, you did know his brother. Though you never mentioned that. Deep down, you were scared that he wouldn’t want to make a move if he knew of that connection— specially after seeing Tommy’s reaction when he saw that hat on your head.

“Hope that’s true, groupie.”

Joel insists on calling his chauffeur to take you home, arguing that it was past midnight and it was dangerous to take a cab. Eventually, you let him, making a quick stop to the bathroom to set things right with your appearance. He waits for you patiently, the cowboy hat presented to you as a gift when you walked out.

“Keep it,” he sways, “as a little souvenir for if we don’t end up meeting again. Besides, it suits you better.”

“Won’t you have another pretty girl to gift it to?” he rolls his eyes at your inquiry.

“I can always buy more,” he laughs. “I want you to remember I sent you home sore and aching each time you look at it.”

You giggle, getting on your tippy toes to kiss the corner of his mouth. “Don’t worry, Miller. I’ll be thinking ‘bout it… About you. That’s a promise.”

And he truly hopes you mean it.

#pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #joel miller #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x reader #joel miller tlou #joel miller the last of us #the last of us hbo #the last of us au #joel miller au #alternate universe #smut

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una-hopeless-romantic1118 · 1 year

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𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈𝐈: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐀 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐃𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐬?—𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐑𝐨𝐣𝐚𝐬/𝐑𝐡𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐬

a/n: by this part, it’s been a few weeks after Y/N and Warren met on the yacht. a little snippet of how karen and y/n met bc they’re platonic soulmates and they’re both badass

timeline: ep. 3 (band is still in hiatus)

here’s the good stuff y’all signed up for :p

Part 1

This chapter: Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5 (in the works!)

Epilogue

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

warnings (of this chapter): sexual tension, warren being horny, reader being horny, smoking, angst, cursing, drinking.

summary (of this chapter): weeks has passed and Warren still found himself pinning over a stranger, and Y/N, realizing the cost of fame, found herself bound to be lonely for as long she succeeds under the limelight. Will she take a chance at love? Or is her career too much of a blessing that she can’t risk ruining over anything?

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

•─────⋅(cut to documentary)⋅─────•

Interviewer: So how did you and Y/N meet?

Karen: Uh, *chuckling* it was all thanks to a shitty driver that just...had to drop me off in the middle of nowhere.

I was supposedly, on my way to the boys’ house for the first time. I had no clue where I was, nor did I have people to ask around for help. It was literally in the middle of nowhere. Just sand, and drought.

But if it weren’t him, I would’ve never gotten a ride from that woman in a purple polka-dotted bikini who had clearly just gone out of the water from a nearby beach.

*her eyes widen playfully at the camera* If it weren’t for that arse driver, I would’ve never met my best mate.

Interviewer: What was your relationship like afterwards?

Karen: *grinning* How’d she describe it?

Interviewer: *slight chuckling* She said “like two schoolgirls who never grew up.”

Karen: *nodding* Sounds about right. *she chuckles*

•─────⋅(cut back)⋅─────•

“He’s been drooling about you every damn day, Y/N!” Karen whisper-shouted into the telephone. “This is witchcraft you placed on this man. Never seen him so quiet and...smiley.”

Y/N imagined her friend to be on her bed with the telephone. The conversation was about Warren, who Y/N found out was Karen’s bandmate that, she quotes, “uses his dick as a compass.” Whenever they talked about Warren, with Y/N’s obnoxious pleadings, Karen would take the telephone to her bedroom, where Warren and the boys can’t hear.

Karen flipped on her back. “I think you’re a maniacal genius, love, but isn’t this too far? A crime of some sort?”

“What do you mean?” Y/N asked with a mouthful of chips. After swallowing, possibly too fast, she coughs out. “My name is Flora, though.”

“Are you alright?” Karen chuckled at her friend, who goes on to have a coughing fit on the other end of the telephone.

She continues anyways. “Y/N, love, ... he’s going to get hurt.”

“What happened to his dick being his compass?” Y/N, teary eyed from the coughs, drags herself out of bed to her kitchen to get a glass of water. She takes a long drink before getting herself back to the phone. “Honestly, I think he’ll just throw a tantrum, get drunk, and his dick will reactivate. There’s more of me he can find and fuck. No biggie.”

“No biggie?” Karen repeated, disbelief sending her to sit up. “He’s been looking everywhere for you! Pestering me about some Flora that worked for Y/N L/N—Also! Took me a while to piece it all together, y’know! You’re a pain in the arse for this!”

“Calm down, hun.” Y/N giggled. “I thought it was fun.”

“He’ll think otherwise, Y/N!” Karen scolded. “You don’t know the effect you have on this man.”

“Oh, I do.” She reassured. “I still think it’s funny.”

Y/N took her friend’s frustrated groans as a way to explain herself. “Don’t worry, Kiki,” she insisted with a laugh. “I’ll have enough designing to do that I’ll be stuck in my condo for months. He won’t see me anywhere in parties any time soon either. By the end of this season, he’ll forget all about me.”

There was only silence now, Y/N could only picture her friend on the other end constructing a plan on how she could possibly restrain her for being so reckless.

“I’m gonna go surf till I come out like a pruny grandma,” she informed her. “Wanna come over?”

“I’ll come over after lunch.” Karen yawned. “You’ll be pruny enough then, yes?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Alright, until then, I’ve got some errands to run for my three sons.”

The friends said their good-byes and love-yous before ending their call.

The beach was right outside her condo, ready for Y/N to surf in and relax, but she didn’t head out immediately after the call.

One thing Y/N knew too well about, was how hard it was to be noticed.

Sure she had the fame, the money, the success, the perfect condo with the beach for her backyard. But in the height of her success, Y/N is lonely, and no one notices.

Her designs and her fame so easily drowned her in the background. Because it wasn’t her who mattered to them, at least, not who she really was as a person. Her art were an extension of herself, but the fans don’t see that. Not really. Her private life was empty, filled with no one to celebrate her successes with.

So maybe that’s why she depends so much on her fame—it’s all she really has.

Her family is all the way in France. And while they loved each other, Y/N would much rather die than ask them to accompany her, or for her to go back home just for their company.

Because she can’t admit she’s lonely. She can’t admit how miserable she really feels, even to her friends. The guilt of asking them for their company feels like desperation to Y/N.

Maybe she regrets putting off a love life. How long did she expect to be working like this, anyways?

So then she goes to her vinyl player to play something. The Six album, to be precise, and she pays attention to nothing else but the drums in the background, who were also easily drowned out.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

•─────⋅(cut to documentary)⋅─────•

Interviewer: While Karen visited Y/N that day, what were you doing?

Warren: *chuckling and shaking his head* Karen never visited her that day.

Interviewer: ...What do you mean?...

•─────⋅(cut back)⋅─────•

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Warren paces around the porch of the blue beach house with a folded piece of paper to fidget with.

He unfolds the piece of paper to reread the address written.

It was her address. Flora’s. Long-awaited, that was for sure, and Karen just figured out her address for him as if she knew it all along.

The neighborhood was nice, and from examining the cars and the people coming in and out of the houses, it was a rich neighborhood. It looks very unlikely for someone who just works for a fashion designer to be living in something like this.

Suddenly, he hears clicking inside, like a locked doorknob trying to be opened. When it stops, he hears a sliding door open and close promptly.

Then, nearing barefoot footsteps. “Sorry you had to wait!” There was giggling behind this door, and Warren watches the doorknob turn, and ultimately the door opened to a soaked and rosy-cheeked Flora in a white, two piece bikini.

Warren took note of the wide smile she had on when she opened the door, but it seemed to disappear once she saw who was behind it.

“Hey, Flora.” He managed to say, breathlessly. He does everything in his power not to stare too long at her dripping body, not missing the thin, golden chains with charms of stars around her waist, and how that bikini hugged her body the right wa—

Y/N closed her agape mouth and forced a small smile. “Um, hey!” She greeted awkwardly.

Silence filled them both. The wind breezed at them and at the palm trees around the neighborhood, accompanied by a gray sky.

Y/N’s body shuddered in response, and Warren couldn’t help but laugh at her body’s reaction.

She laughs along with him. “I’m sorry, do you want to come in? It looks like it’s gonna rain in a bit.”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” He accepted the invitation, maybe a little too eagerly.

“I’ll mop the floors in a bit, just watch your step.”

Warren obliged, making his way to the living room where Y/N motioned him to.

“I have so many questions,” Y/N snorted. “How’d you find me in the first place?”

“A friend of mine...” Warren sat down carefully, examining his surroundings. “Karen.”

She nods, scoffing like she should’ve seen it coming.

There were enough evidence for Warren to conclude that a fashion designer owned this place. The rich neighborhood, the rolls of cloth against almost all four walls, the two sewing machines, the bits and cuts of cloth scattered on the table in front of him.

Warren looked up to meet Y/N, who was not at all ashamed for hiding her true identity.

“Surprise!…” She drawled out, carefully because she’s aware of the embarrassment she caused him, but also with no shame that she’s led him on like this.

He shook his head with a small smile, taking into his hand the nearest piece of cloth. “I assumed you were her when you left.” He said, his voice low. “I asked around.”

“Should’ve done that in the first place,” she giggled with her back turned to him as she looks for beer in her fridge. “Now you’re stuck in this mess.”

Warren shrugged, taking the beer from her hands. “You make it sound like it’s the worst thing on the planet.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her glistening legs.

Y/N laughed out. “Drink your beer, Warren. I’ll go shower and we can have a proper conversation like two civilized civilians.”

“Who said we have to be civil?” He insisted further, leaning back on the comfortable couch. “Who said we have to talk at all, I mea—“

“Drink the beer, Warren!” She yelled from down the hallway.

•─────⋅(cut to documentary)⋅─────•

Warren: She’s got that charm, y’know? I mean, as embarrassing as it was, I was hooked. I didn’t even mind she lied to me at all. Piecing it together and realizing the good friend Karen gushes on so much about, the fashion designer taking over the world with her talents, and Flora, were the Y/N L/N, you couldn’t blame me.

•─────⋅(cut back)⋅─────•

“How upsetting would it be if I told you the storm is going to last the whole night?” She slumped down beside him on the sofa.

Warren, with a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth, could only praise God silently for this disastrous weather.

“What makes you think it’s going to last the whole night?”

Y/N squinted her eyes at him sarcastically as the sound of the thunder roared loudly, even inside.

“Noted,” Warren rolled his eyes at her. She was clearly drunk, but Warren can’t help but tease her just for the sassy remarks.

“So, anyways, I was thinking I might get a dog or two.” Y/N brushed the ends of her hair in thought, laying the side of her head on his shoulder. “I’ve wanted dogs for so long, I’m taking you coming here as a sign.”

“I’m flattered.” Warren laughs out.

“You’re very welcome.” She sniffed.

“Can I ask why?” He chuckled, stubbing out the cigarette to talk to her face to face without blowing smoke at her face. “I’m kind of scared to ask, not gonna lie.”

What he didn’t expect was for her to place her hand atop his head, patting down his hair. “You’re hair.” She smiled sleepily. “I’ve noticed it the first time we met.”

Warren could only laugh at her drooping eyelids. “You tired?”

“No, I’m not tired,” she crossed her arms, turning her body away from him. “I’m wide awake.”

“Baby, you’ve been falling asleep in the middle of your sentences for a while now.” He cooed. “C’mon, I’ll carry you to bed like a man servant.”

“I am not tired,” she insisted.

He tucks a rebellious strands of hair behind her ear. “If you fall asleep here, I’m sleeping on your bed.”

“Don’t you dare,” she drawled out. “My bed is reserved for me only. The only thing you can do it...the only thing you can do to it,” she giggled, “is fluff my pillows. Like a man servant.”

He laughs, with her strands of hair still in his hands. He twirls it around his own fingers gently, careful not to cause her pain. He’s closer than before now, and without her moving her head so much he noticed the constellation of freckles across her cheeks.

When Y/N starts stirring into her first few minutes of sleep, Warren attempts to move his hands beneath her to carry her, only for her to open her eyes again.

“Damn it, Y/N.” He scolded her.

She smiled blissfully, closing her eyes again. “I want you to fuck me.”

Warren stills. For the first time, his first instinct was to move away rather than accept.

He was too scared to move. Did he give her the wrong impression? Not that he didn’t want to fuck her at all, but it’s not right to do so when she’s drunk.

Y/N opens her eyes to find him flushed. “Isn’t that what you wanted in the first place?” She snorted.

“You’re drunk, Y/N.”

She threw her hands up in surrender. “I give you full consent.”

“It doesn’t matter, you’re not thinking straight.” He goes to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“So...you’re saying you don’t want to fuck me?”

How could someone not? Warren thought miserably to himself. Even in her long, white cardigan that could pass off as a grandmother’s cardigan and black silk sleep dress that revealed most of her soft skin, Warren was ready to take all of her in.

When she’s sober, he convinced himself. If she even feels the same when she is.

Warren’s next move was to wait until she falls asleep and to deny, deny, deny, but Y/N grabbed him by his chin to face her.

Despite her droopy eyelids, Y/N forced herself to look up at him. His breaths fanning her face were like rescue breaths to her.

She couldn’t help but nudge his beautiful nose against hers, while Warren continued to have an internal battle.

Y/N understood her own rules well, and didn’t fail to acknowledge his respect for her current state.

So all she did was bring him closer by the chin and kissed him deeply. She feels Warren respond obligingly, though, still cautious.

It was a kiss that Y/N could need for the rest of her life, the way his lips reached into hers desperately like how she always wished a man would reach for her. The way his hand cupped the back of her head like how she always wanted to be supported and cared for.

The sudden adrenaline of hope that Warren felt was too much to handle. He never felt the so conflicted over something he’s wanted, but he knew he couldn’t have.

He didn’t want himself holding her back. She has too much potential and talent, he would just make a fool out of himself.

Y/N ended the intimate kiss with a peck on his nose. “For now,” she smiled against his jawline, before she could feel herself tire completely on his shoulder.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

few more parts to come!!

taglist (aka beautiful people): @pinkdaiisies @mlwriting5 @teletubbysteroids @linatells @stanzie @arsonkween @rexorangecouny @lisbeth122605 @cultsanrio @thatoneawesomechicka @magicalmiserybore

#djats #daisy jones and the six #daisy jones #Daisy Jones and the six imagines #Daisy jones and the six fics #djats imagines #warren rojas x you #warren rojas x y/n #warren rhodes x you #warren rojas x reader #warren rojas #warren rhodes #warren rhodes x reader #warren rhodes x y/n #karen sirko #warren rojas fluff #warren rojas smut #warren rhodes fluff #warren rhodes smut

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burninlovebutler · 1 year

Text

Just an Intern // Part 2

pairing: austin x fem!reader - word count: 8k-ish

warnings: SMUTSMUT, moody arrogant asshole!austin, ANGST, hand job, fingering, use of a faucet, multiple o's, overstimulation, mild SA (groping), name calling, masturbation, arguments, physical altercation (not with y/n), alcohol, getting caught, blowjob, 69, p in v (unprotected), inaccurate descriptions of a movie set, 18+ ONLY. MDNI

PART 1 | PART 3 | see my masterlist for all other fics ♡

summary: When your one-off fling returns to the set of Bikeriders after a hiatus, you're overwhelmed with need to make him notice you again. Due to an unforeseen snow storm, you and your crew are snowed in at the nearest ski resort with… limited vacancies.

Special thanks to: @cryingabtab & @lindszeppelin for helping revise this ♡

I miss the way you say my name The way you bend, the way you break Your makeup running down your face The way you fuck, the way you taste When the curtains call the time Will we both go home alive?

After the… incident, you held your pride and decided (stupidly) to not tell Austin how much money his little act had cost you in shattered makeup. However, this only resulted in him sneak in a whopping $500 into your makeup kit. But of course, you were a glutton for defiance so, when he was on set, you’d slip the bills back into his wallet. That game went back and forth for a couple rounds, but you never spoke about it, all silent. Finally, you gave in one day when you found the money in your own wallet after your busted VW Bug had given you trouble that morning.

It went like that between you two pretty much the entire time he was still on set – quiet, weird, and awkward. You fully expected him to go back to the same asshole behavior, but he didn’t, practically pretending you didn’t exist. The ‘Intern’ nickname never retiring though it was seldom used. You were invisible to him, which at first at least, was comforting.

On a crisp fall Wednesday morning you were pleasantly surprised to find the man you had this strange dynamic with, left to shoot another movie, leaving you back with the cast you were familiar with.

That night which just so happened to be the Saturday of Halloween weekend, you were invited to some big Hollywood rooftop party. You went as Harley Quinn since it was last minute and it was the only Halloween costume you had since 2017. Not surprisingly you found a Joker that was fairly attractive and ended up hooking up in the bathroom. As the spray painted green-haired influencer slid in and out of you, you couldn’t help but think about Austin. The way he fucked you against the door, the way he talked to you, the way he looked at you, even his moans filled your head.

As much as you wanted to ignore it, the thought of him was the cause of many sleepless nights. Many nights you couldn’t sleep until you’d fucked yourself dizzy with the thought of him. After Halloween, you’d spent the next month trying to fuck anything even remotely attractive trying to replicate the feeling Austin haunted you with. Yet you fell short in your fruitless efforts. Every Tinder date was just another pump and dump or two second loser or worst of all - those cringey wannabe ‘daddy doms’.

It drove you INSANE, how could this asshole had wormed his way into your brain. The same one who called you all sorts of names, threatened your job and humiliated you in front of the whole cast.

In the time he was gone you’d been promoted head makeup artist since Carol had for some ominous reason been fired. It gave you a sort of pride knowing that upon Austin’s inevitable return, you wouldn’t be just an ‘intern’ anymore.

On a particularly cold morning you sleepily opened your trailer door to find a familiar face sitting in your seat – Austin. Your stomach flipped and you hated it, goddamnit you hated it. Why did your body throw butterflies like grenades into your tummy at the sight of him?

“Long time no see Intern.” He stated without even looking up from his phone.

“Morning Actor.” Your tone came out more displeased than intended, his attitude and the nickname reminded you of exactly why you despised him in the first place. You opened your kit and started picking out products, to coordinate for his character.

“You know the scene this time?” He asked finally bringing his attention to you.

His question confused you, ‘this time?’ what the fuck did that mean – until you remembered that was the first thing he asked you that first day in the trailer. Your standards showed just how low they were when you found yourself finding it endearing that he remembered such a small detail.

“I do.” You replied beginning to place product on his face, “Do you know what scene this time?” Flipping the memory back on him. He just grumbled a yes.

The feeling of seeing him again felt familiar to the feeling of when you miss your family and then once you’re around them for about 10 minutes you’re reminded of just why you left home in the first place. Except it only took 10 seconds with Austin. Your stupid masochistic brain kept urging you to ask questions-

‘where’ve you been?’

‘what’ve you been filming?’

‘are you excited about this next scene?’

‘are you happy to be back?’

And the worst of all, ‘did you miss me?’

But why would you even care to ask that? You knew the answer and you didn’t miss him.

Right?

Why would you miss this asshole?

Lost in your thoughts, there was no conversation, no interaction. Just stale awkward silence that made your heart pound in your head and your hands tremble.

The weather was a stark contrast to the last time he’d been on set at the last location. It was November but there hadn’t yet been snowfall. Your services were called for 45 minutes in and you went to Tom Hardy first – not only did you want to avoid Austin but you and Tom had grown a much closer friendship.

“Hey Pup! You’re just who I needed to see this morning.” He smiled warmly. Immediately you felt a glare fall on you both.

You chuckled and began touching up his makeup, “Oh yeah and why’s that?”

“Well, you always cheer up my mornings! But I also wanted to ask you a question?” He tried his best to stay still while you worked on him. You nodded indicated for him to continue. “Are you seeing anyone right now?”

You almost choked on your own spit, that was the last thing you thought to come out of his mouth. Though you knew it wasn’t about him since he was married, and he treated you like a father. You felt the stare from before boring into you more. You cleared your throat, “Um, no. I’m not currently seeing anyone. Why?”

“Oh well I just wanted to make sure because I saw you with that guy from the Halloween party-“

You cut him off immediately, “Yes and? Why?” The stare from Austin intensified even more, you swore it could burn right through you.

“Oh well,” He laughed, “One of the crew guys wanted me to ask you. I’m not allowed to say who though.” He added emphasis on ‘say’ followed by his eyes moving over to one of the black haired tattooed stagehands.

Landon

The hot, toned sound tech had been making advances at you since Austin left. He had taken over Austin’s role as your tormentor, though he wasn’t as bad or fun. You wanted to roll your eyes and dismiss the comment, but what fun would that be? Tom had just given you some bullets for your gun.

You turned slightly to see him across set and give him a little wave when he notices you. “Hm… that’s interesting.” You hummed then gave a shrug, “He is pretty cute.”

Landon was quite different than Austin – dark hair, muscular, tattoos, angular face, even taller than him. It was no secret that Landon had a thing for you, he made it quite obvious with various offhand comments and failed date requests. While his attempts sometimes overstepped, they were mostly innocent, but there was something about him that made you feel uneasy – or maybe it was because you constantly compared him to Austin.

You didn’t want to move on to the infuriating actor, especially since the comment about Landon but you needed to. You began adding some powder to his face.

“Halloween party huh?” He questioned without missing a beat.

“I went to a Halloween party, yes.” You replied in a harsher tone, “Not that that’s any of your business.” When you stepped backwards to check your work you notice that his lips are chapped; probably from the cold. You took out a brand new chapstick and gently tapping it on his plump lips. The full pinkness of them reminded you of how they felt on your neck last time and the stir in your core confirmed it.

This set wasn’t much different from the last, a Western looking town that was supposed to be a different area in the movie. Wooden buildings lined a strip littered with faux shops and stores, some used for different inside scenes. And of course, motorcycles all over.

After the interaction over Landon that morning, things had been unusually calm from Austin. So unusual in fact that he was barely acknowledging you. But that’s what you wanted wasn’t it? To not bother you? But it felt more like a frustrating punishment than anything. You wanted to get his attention but wasn’t sure how, it was freezing cold and you couldn’t use your short dresses anymore.

There was something you could use – Landon.

Austin’s demeanor had changed after the mention of him and had shot lasers into you when you spoke about him – so perhaps provoking the lion may be exactly what you needed to regain his attention.

Predictably, Landon lingered near you when you worked near set trying to map out certain looks and glanced over at Austin to see if you were in his eyeline. Once you guaranteed his focus, his eyes briefly meeting yours, you called over Landon.

“Hey,” You smiled flirtatiously, “You think I could get your opinion on this?”

His ego visibly boosted, “Yeah sure. Oh yeah-“ He lifted a box full of candy canes, “You want one? We accidently ordered a million for Christmas.”

The corners of your mouth immediately curled up, candy canes.

Your banana stunt had shaken Austin so much last time – this would be so much better. You could properly show him how much you had thought about his cock in your mouth.

“Oh absolutely.” You smirked, plucking a cane-shaped candy. Once again you felt eyes tracking you, it was almost like you could hear him saying ‘don’t you fucking dare’.

You peeled the plastic off the bottom end, wrapped your lips around the middle and dragged your lips down the sugary treat.

You over animated your flirtatious gestures with Landon, pausing with the candy in your mouth and cheeks hollowed. You took it up a notch by getting touchy with him, landing a hand on his arms and giving the obligatory fake playful laugh. Landon was eating it up, you almost felt bad that you were leading him on.

Only half way through your snack you were called for a touch up. When you finally got to Austin, lithe legs propped at each side of his bike. The reminder of you straddling his bike last time stirred the exact feeling as when you left your wetness on his seat last time. His makeup is visibly messed up, like he purposely smeared his fingers through his foundation. “What the fuck did you do?” You asked, genuinely curious.

“I didn’t do anything.” He replied blandly, his tone filtered behind some wall, “Can you just fix it?”

Your eyes rolled involuntarily, “Yeah.”

Midway through your application you noticed his jaw clench before speaking again, “I know what you’re doing.” Grumbling, his eyes struggling to not focus on your mouth holding the cane while you worked.

You slid it past your freshly glossed lips, “’I didn’t do anything.’” You mimicked him from just earlier.

His gaze darkened now not even hiding it’s focus on your mouth, “You have to stop that.” He looked you dead in the eyes that time.

You got exactly what you wanted. His attention. Power.

He eyed you like prey, indigo eyes locked back on your lips that housed the candy. You could tell he wanted to play, he wanted to invest in your little game but the playfulness in his blues was vacant. “Cut it out.” He repeated lowly and through gritted teeth so no one would hear.

You smirked like a brat as you leaned down to his eye-line, “Or what?” Your cheeks hallowed as you slowly sunk the cane back into your mouth, how far could you really tease him? You wanted to see what he’d do about it.

In a swift motion he snatched the candy cane from your lips bringing it between his molars and roughly snapping it in half with a crunch. “Don’t you fucking listen? I told you to cut it out.” Nearly growling and shoved the now broken candy into your hand. Your cheeks blushed at the feeling of the surrounding crew catching the incident and you caught him looking embarrassed, as if he had just made a scene at dinner.

Directors called to shoot again, and you noticed his readjustment when you left.

Your little stunt worked, all throughout the scenes he watched you like a hawk. You made sure to take your time withering down the rest of the sugary stick, making sure he knew just how slow. After a while it became a game, the more you distracted him the more times they yelled cut. The more times you got to see him hide his physical reaction to you. You could see the annoyance building in him. Deep down you were almost scared at how he’d react once you had to interact again. But you definitely wanted to find out.

And when they called for a 30 the fear settled in the pit of your stomach when he stomped over you at your section. Before you had a chance to even respond, he discreetly gripped your wrist, hiding it from the dissipating crew from set. Leaning closer into you he muttered, “When everyone files out, you’re coming with me.”

You pointlessly tried to wriggle from his tight grip, “I don’t wanna go anywhere with you.”

His hold only tightened around you, “You’re a fucking shitty liar.” Once he confirmed everyone had left, he hauled you into one of the functioning sets, a dark wooden saloon. He locked the door behind you both and closed the blinds behind each window.

As he was walking towards you with eyes as dark as a demon, you questioned why you antagonized the hungry tiger in the first place. You walked backwards from him, stumbling over some chairs.

“This is a little uncalled for don’t ya think? I was just eating some candy…” You began to ration, the terror filling your tummy. Though you were scared you were also full to the brim with excitement, like a cat and mouse game. He stalked you to behind the bar, the area was littered with prop alcohol bottles and glasses. He backed you in front of the sink, his hands firm on your hips, “You know exactly what you were doing Intern.” He lowered just below your ear and lead your hand to his hard cock staining his jeans, “Is that what you wanted?”

“I-“ Immediately melting under his lips that met your neck and you decided to be honest, “Yeah – it’s exactly what I wanted.”

He pressed into you when you began palming him over his jeans, “I’m not even here 24 hours and you’re already asking for my cock? You must’ve really missed me.” Arrogance returning to his demeanor.

You weren’t really sure how to answer that question, it wasn’t so much that you missed him – you missed the buzz that laid claim to your entire body when he touched you.

“I’m gonna take that as a yes.” In one fail swoop he lifted you onto the sink, your body balanced on the divide of the cold metal basin. Just as quick, he had somehow managed to unzip and pull the pants right off your body. While he was trying to keep any composure, you could tell he was insatiable, his hands all over you, his lips all over your neck, he couldn’t get enough of you.

“I didn’t fucking miss you.” Attempting to speak over the heaving of your chest, “Feels a lot like you missed me though.”

“Why would I ignore such an annoying pest as you?” His words didn’t match his intensified actions. His hand trailed up your thighs, spreading your legs apart. A middle finger slowly and meticulously traced up your wet slit, “Now your cunt? That’s something I might’ve missed.” And easily slipped two fingers into your soaked core and his thumb following suit, landing on your pulsing clit.

After a sharp gasp you managed to rebuttal, “Good- glad we’re on the same page.”

“Good.” He groaned when your hand unzipped his dark jeans and wrapped your hand around his bare member still in his boxers.

“Fuck,” You breathed out and lulled your head back when his thumb circled your clit, “Fuck that feels so good.”

“Yeah?” He lifted his assault on your neck for just a second, “Your hand feels so fucking good around me.”

“Fuck Austin,” You moaned but soon realized your misstep and you hoped he missed it but the curl of his lips on your neck proved otherwise.

“So you do know my name.”

“Can you just shut the fuck up and fuck me?” The words shot out of your mouth out of sheer desperation and annoyance.

“Oh, nu uh darlin’, you think you’re gonna get away with what you did?” His hand slipped from you, causing a whine from the loss of pleasure.

He analyzed around the sink like he was searching for something then found exactly his target. He pulled down the retractable faucet head.

No- he wouldn’t, would he?

His hands pushed up your flowy long sleeve shirt to your waist to reduce the evidence then reached behind you to the faucet handle. In a flash the jet stream of first cold then slightly warm water hit your throbbing bundle. You immediately let out moan you didn’t intend to be as loud.

“What’s wrong baby? Is it a bit too strong?”

Baby

You were too focused on not climaxing so early to even process how much worse that nickname was than your own slip up. Even worse, the name only turned you on more. You helplessly nodded, completely void of words.

Your own descent didn’t halt your work on his throbbing cock, from the sticky precum seeping from his tip you could tell he was close too. Somewhere in your bliss filled brain, the game still waged on and you got an idea you needed to see through.

“Aw darlin’” He growled though you hear him struggling too, his cock twitching in your hand, “You gonna cum already?”

You contemplated denying it but your defenses were completely down full of need, “Yes- Please, please let me cum.”

“I don’t think so, you’re gonna have to do better than that.” Letting out small groans as your hand sped up on his girth. He retaliated by using his free hand to push the nozzle to the highest pressure.

A loud sob fell from your lips and every cell in your body screamed for release, your legs were trembling, your hand gripped on his forearm and your body vibrating from how viciously your orgasm threatened to take over. “Please sir, please let me cum, I need to cum please please.” You desperately begged.

He let out a deep grunt into your shoulder, “Fuck- good girl, cum for me.”

Full blinding euphoria washed over you, loud moans ripped from your throat unable to control the volume. It was clear he didn’t expect your reaction from the groans that filled your own ears. His teeth dug into the small of your neck and his free hand digging nto your thigh harshly when you felt his own orgasm covering your hand in thick ribbons of cum and coating the inside of his boxers. His hand never left the faucet head on you through his climax. Your orgasm continued to roll through you, the feeling of his cum on your hand only heightened your pleasure.

Once he started to come down you knew your plot to make him finish in his pants had consequences. He ripped your hand from his girth. “Look what you’ve done.” His tone so fucking angry.

“I’m-I’m sor-“ He brought your cum covered hand to your face, smeared it across your entire makeup covered face. His seed coated your cheeks, mouth and nose.

“That’s what teasing fucking whores get.” He taunted below your ear, “I’ll give you exactly what you wanted.” He returned the jet stream back onto your sensitive clit. You whined and tried to scoot away but his strong hand kept your hips in place, “You’re gonna take this like the little slut you are.”

The water was overriding every nerve ending the stimulation was almost painful. “Fuck, fuck, I can’t do this.” You wiggled beneath his hold. “It’s too much Austin, please.” Tears starting to well in your eyes.

“I know baby, I know.” He swirled the water around your sensitivity, “Just trust me, it’ll feel good. I promise.” He whispered and something about how his voice had softened made you believe him. It must’ve been quite obvious that you’d never been overstimulated like that before.

“Okay- Fuck.” You struggled beneath him, wondering when exactly it would start to feel good. Then suddenly breaking through the discomfort was a pleasure so strong, one you’d never felt before. This orgasm made the first one seem tame. Not a sound came from you as the ecstasy tore though you.

After it past the faucet was still on you but you were past any hope of another orgasm and it was even more painful than before. Your reflex pushed the steam from your center and back into the sink. Your heavy breathing in sync with each other, neither one daring to move or speak.

You expected him to warn you that you’d pay for making him finish in his pants, he just zipped back up. The air in the room had changed and was nothing like last time. He went to walk away from you but came back and pressed a finger into your sternum, his brows low and anger swirling in his face. “This isn’t fucking happening again. Got it?”

His words rang in your head the rest of the day. Every touch up after was silent, uncomfortable – so much so even Tom noticed the odd energy, making sure to move away from Austin whenever you had to work on him. He tried to ask you about it but you shut him down any inquiry.

Just before the sun fully disappeared behind mountains, flurries of snow began coating the set and everything in its wake. It fell and piled up in record speed.

The entire cast and crew were huddled into each trailer when a director came to the door with a sullen and irritated face. “They closed the roads.”

A roar of chatter filled the room with the realization that you all were stuck there. How nobody on crew thought to look at the fucking weather forecast you had no fucking clue.

“I know, I know.” He sighed, “Good news is the ski resort up the mountain agreed to take us, and we got a green light to pass if we leave now.”

Your coworkers began to filter out leaving you with the settling realization that your tiny beater Volkswagen wouldn’t make it up the mountain none the less in deep snow.

“Fuck.” You breathed out running after your director and grabbed his arm, “Can I carpool with you guys? My car’s not gonna make it up there.”

“I think my car’s already full but…” His eyes scanned across the emptying set, landing on an option. “Austin could probably take you.” He pointed at him only a couple feet away from you.

Of fucking course.

The displeasure clearly washed over his face from being elected for something he didn’t offer to do.

“Sure.” His tone poorly hidden behind a gripe. “C’mon we don’t have all day.”

The trek to his car was just as uncomfortable as you expected, you wanted to apologize for bothering him but he didn’t deserve it. Once in the car his demeanor was unnecessarily aggressive – his hands gripping the steering wheel, his jaw clenched, every action sharp. You would’ve thought you had done something horrendous to him. But all you did was exist.

“Well I-“ You began before he cut you off.

“I don’t want to fucking talk.” Halting any interaction.

“Fine.” You muttered, slumping down into the passenger seat trying to stay warm. His car was freezing, you had no idea how he wasn’t dying from the cold. He glanced over to you when your teeth started chattering and finally turned on the heat. When your chattering didn’t subside you felt his gaze land on you once more, yet you kept your eyes off him. Then out of the corner of your eye, you caught him ever so discreetly twist the knob for the seat heaters.

“Thank you.” You begrudgingly commented but he tightened his grip on the steering wheel as he navigated through the snow and into the resort parking lot. It felt like he hadn’t even parked before jumping out of the car and slamming the door.

The twist in your stomach from his actions feigned sadness, but you were just offended right?

You caught up to him just in time to hear the words that made Austin immediately even angrier than before.

“I’m sorry, but unfortunately it looks like we only have one room left.” The clerk said sounding intimidated by his expression.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath assessing your options. But the roads were blocked and there was nowhere else to go, you were stuck.

“Please tell me there’s at least two beds.” You sighed, terrified of the answer.

She gave a hesitant face, “I’m so sorry but it is not. It is one of our studio rooms.”

Great, so it was tiny too.

“Wonderful.” He snatched his room key and headed quickly to the elevator.

“Thank you.” You said apologetically and gently took your key, jogging to catch him.

The resort resembled a log cabin, red buffalo print accents everywhere, a stone fireplace, and moose heads mounted to the walls.

“Listen I’m not fucking happy about this either.” You state firmly, “But you don’t have to be a dickhead about it.”

He ignored you when he pressed the elevator button and continued the entire way up and even to your room door. He dropped his go bag on a leather ottoman, grabbing some clothes and disappeared into the bathroom. Probably to finally wash off the accident you caused earlier.

You dropped your own go bag on the bed and fell on it, absolutely exhausted and confused. What the fuck had your life become? Having quickie with an actor one set and now stuck in a room with him? An actor that hates you?

You must’ve fallen asleep because the bustle of Austin freshly showered and in dark slacks and a button down.

“Where are you going?” You asked rubbing the nap from your eye.

“Bar.” He replied plainly and left the room.

Fuck.

You weren’t just gonna sit there like a lame ass waiting for him to get back. Then you remembered your secret weapon – Landon.

After whatever the fuck Austin put you through, anything Landon did wouldn’t be as bad.

Once freshened up and wearing a convenient slinky dress you had snatched from your go bag, you found the resort bar and spotted your resident tormentor talking to some tiny blonde extra. The odd twist in your stomach from earlier returned but you played it off as disgust.

“A lemon drop martini please.” You ordered just beside Landon who looked much better outside of work. A maroon button-down shirt with sleeves rolled up to his elbows showing off his traditional style tattoos.

“Well, hello there,” He grinned, popping deep dimples into his cheeks. “I didn’t think I’d see you here.”

While the mission drove you to him, maybe he wasn’t so bad after all. Maybe he could take your mind off of Austin.

“Well, I’m here.” You smiled up at him as you took a sip of your drink.

Soon it became evident that he was several drinks in, his words slurring, his imbalanced stance. It became incredibly obvious when his arm wrapped around your waist and landing on your hip. His unwarranted touch crept a alarming discomfort in your body, instantly tensing up under his hand.

Nervously giggling you slowly pulled from his grasp, “You’re so funny.”

His hold on you only constricted and his hand lowered to your ass.

“I would really appreciate it if you didn’t-“ Making another attempt at escaping.

“Oh, don’t be like that,” He mumbled into your ear, “I’ve heard the rumors about you.”

It was when his lips met your neck that the fear fully kicked in fueling your strength to yank from him, “Please don’t fucking touch me.”

All eyes in the bar were on you two, including the asshole that was the cause of whatever rumors Landon mentioned. The darkhaired drunk was clearly pissed at your reaction and stole you back into his abrasive hands.

“Don’t act all innocent now, I know how big of a slut you are.” He muttered but stumbled back when a massive hand landed on his chest.

“Leave her the fuck alone.” A familiar voice warned. Your eyes trailed up his stern arm and up to his twisted face, vicious eyes burning into Landon.

“Oh, what’s wrong? Don’t like to share your whore?” The stagehand retorted.

Austin’s fist twisted into Landon’s shirt shoving him back, “Don’t fucking say shit like that.” He growled through clenched teeth. The sight of his protectiveness sent butterflies down to your stomach.

“C’mon man, you know she’s nobody, she’s just a fucking intern, she’s nothing.”

In a flash before you could even process, a heavy fist landed into his drunken smirk.

Landon’s hand instantly covered his now bleeding nose, “Dude what the fuck!”

“Don’t fucking do that again.” He snarled, “And don’t fucking call her that.” Pushing him back before storming away. Something about him defending you only swirled warmth in your hips. He just punched someone for you.

“Fuck you.” You spat, taking the rest of his beer along with your drink and poured them all over him.

And again, you were chasing after a fuming Austin. “Hey!” You called after him grasping his forearm. “What the fuck was that about? Why would you do that?”

“Oh I don’t fucking know, (Y/N) maybe because he was assaulting you?” Slapping your arm off him then continuing his pursuit back up your room.

“Right, but you fucking hate me.” You stated the obvious as he walked away from you again and into the elevator. “Can you fucking stop being a child and talk to me?” You pressed once the elevator doors closed behind you.

“I save you and you call me a child?” He scoffed, “You should be thanking me.”

The moment those lift doors opened his stomps quickly crossed down the long wooden hallway.

“I mean- yeah but like…” Your chest heavy from all the fast walking. Slipping through the crack of the door before he could lock you out.

“I am grateful for what you did-“ You attempted to mask your heavy breathing, “I’m just confused about why you did it.”

He didn’t need to turn around for you to know he was rolling his eyes. “I’m not fucking heartless Int- y/n.” He skirted around ‘intern’ completely hypocritical to how he normally addresses you.

“You know my name.” Stepping towards him and pointing out the elephant in the room.

He took a deep sigh, “Yes I know your name. I also know you’re not an ‘Intern’ anymore.”

“How?”

“It doesn’t matter, you’re still an intern to me.”

“So, you can call me that but Landon can’t? What the fuck is that about?”

He groaned exasperated, running a hand through his thick golden hair, “I don’t fucking know (y/n), okay? That’s my nickname for you, I started it.”

“So you’re the only one allowed to call me that?” Scoffing at his words.

His expression intensified on you, taking a step forward, “I don’t fucking like you Intern.” Pressing an index into your sternum, “I am so fucking sick of your bullshit.”

“Bullshit? What bullshit? Just me existing? And doing my job?” You snapped back, halting slightly when the wall behind you met your backside. Furious hot blood ran through your veins but also down into your core and between your legs. Just the sight of him enraged turned you on, especially when he had taken it out on someone for you – especially when you were the cause of it.

“You know what you do and i’m sick of it. I told you last time to cut that shit out.” His cobalt eyes boring into your own.

In a strong tide of brat ebbed into you, “Or what? Whatcha gonna do about it huh?”

The swirling conflict in his face revealed his own restraint from you, you were driving him mad too. He huffed and pushed himself off the wall, bringing a hand to his forehead, “You’re fucking impossible.” Circling back to you, “Has anyone ever fucking told you that you’re insufferable?”

His words only igniting the steam seeping from your ears. Insufferable? Who fucking calls someone insufferable?

Your fingers curled into tight fists and eyebrows scrunched, “Me? Me insufferable?” Pushing yourself off the wall, pointing your index at him, “Have you fucking met yourself? If either of us are insufferable, its fucking you,” Jabbing into his chest, keeping eyes locked on his, “You’re so fucking unbearable. You make my job fucking miserable and I fucking hate you.” The words poured out of you through vicious emotion.

There was a shift in Austin’s face, you couldn’t tell if it was more anger or something else entirely. “Yeah, well if I’m so fucking intolerable, I’ll find somewhere else to fucking sleep.” Austin made a sharp turn towards the door.

“Where the fuck are you going to sleep? There’s no rooms left.” You called from the other side of the hotelroom.

Austin halted and you thought he’d made a connection at the obvious, that there was nowhere else to sleep but his hand stilled on the doorhandle. He just barely turned his face to the side speaking over his shoulder, “I’d rather sleep on a bench or in my fucking car before I ever share a bed with you.” Slamming the heavy door behind him.

His words stung the same way the ones on set did – ‘this isn’t fucking happening again’ – it was kinda the same sentiment, wasn’t it? He didn’t want anything to do with you. Maybe you were the pest after all.

The somber energy was quickly replaced with molten hot lava still steaming through your veins. You let out a sigh you didn’t know you were holding and rested against the wall. Suddenly the memory of him pressing you against the wall in fury just minutes ago, which then led to reminiscing over that day in the trailer… him chaining you to the door. Overwhelming anger and testosterone lingered in the air and it sent butterflies swarming in your core. As much as you knew you should be pissed about how he just acted it didn’t stop the pooling between your legs.

You took in the situation, you were alone. Austin left and you now had a room all to yourself. Your eyes landed on the small bed, your steps toward it like tiptoeing in a house at night, like you were trying to hide from yourself. The internalized shame only fueled the rampant thumping in your pussy, your fingers hooked into the band of your panties and pulled them down before crawling on the pre-made bed. Timid fingers slithered down your torso towards your open legs, you couldn’t believe you were doing this. Your chest was rising and falling, and a concrete pit fell to your tummy. When your middle and ring finger landed where the pulsing demanded attention you couldn’t help a tiny moan out.

Circles swirled on your swollen clit, “Fuck.” You breathed out lulling your head back and closed your eyes. The gentle rotation sent shock waves through your body and urged it to speed up, but you wanted this to last. You wanted to savor it.

Your digits were good, but Austin’s were better and the thought of him was definitely not helping your slow-and-steady goal. The glaring sound of your heart racing filled your ears, and the pleasure caused your entire body to respond, your back arching in time with your fingers. Without any restraint, “Fuck Austin.” You moaned.

“Ahem.” A much too familiar voice shocked you from your trance, eyes shooting wide open, and legs tightly clamped around your hand.

A bright rouge emerged on your embarrassed cheeks, “What the fuck are you doing here, I thought you left!”

“I left my bag, but I don’t think that’s the important question right now.” He stated casually but you observed how his eyes trailed down your body.

“Can you just please get the fuck out?” Fluster clear in your tone, tilting your body from him.

“Hm,” He ignored the question then his eyes finally landing on your flushed face, “Is this because of me?”

“W-What?” Caught off guard but hastily shook your head, “Just get the fuck out please.”

“No, No answer the question.” He stepped next to the bed, hips level with your rested head.

“I um-“ You raked through possible excuses, “No, of course not.”

“Hm,” He hummed again, a gently touch starting to draw up your leg, “So you weren’t thinking about that faucet on your cunt?” His wandering hand stopped at your hip.

“Nope,” You replied confidently, attempting to tame your body’s natural response to his touch.

An index traced up your bent leg, “Is it because of me?” He repeated.

“Is what because of you?”

Effortlessly, he pried your legs apart, “That. Are you touching yourself because of me?” Before you could even answer his knuckle slid down your inner thigh, his digits landing on your own. “If I caused it, I should fix it.” He gently pressed on your fingers signaling to let him take over. “Just like…” His free hand drawing yours to the bulge in his pants. “You caused this. So you’re gonna fix it.”

You didn’t need to be told twice to pull him out of his pants and start stroking his veiny length that your hand could barely fit around. He immediately snatched your wrist, “Not like that. Your mouth.”

You hesitantly looked up at him, he was so big there was no way you’d be able to take him. Though, when his fingers started moving you knew you didn’t want to stop. With a slight readjustment, you softly twirled your tongue around his head, triggering a deep rumble from his chest. “Yeah, just like that.” His free hand found your hair and tangled his fingers into it, curling at the roots with a tug.

You used your closest hand to wrap around the rest of him that couldn’t fit in your mouth beginning to pump at the base while you gained a rhythm bobbing your head on his shaft. The way his body responded to you – his cock twitching on your tongue, deep guttural groans and his hips shoving himself further down your throat – sent flurries of buzzing pleasure to your swelling bud. He was responding like that because of you, you made him unravel. The reminder of his status rang in your head – you had the oh so sought-after Oscar-winning actor balls deep in your throat. It was quite an ego boost. You kept your gaze on him, watching his face contort with pleasure. His hand slid down the side of your face when he looked down at you, his palm finding your cheek. “You look so fucking pretty with your lips around my cock.”

Pretty

What a soft name to use in such a sexual act. If it was one thing you knew about ‘Austin Butler’ was that he was anything but soft.

You hummed around him, your lips bet the edge of your fist with every repetition. His cock thickened and swole to be a rock-hard throbbing mess, with the taste of his pre-cum you sensed he was close. Pulling off with a pop, you looked up with big puppy-dog eyes, “Wanna cum on my face?”

He shook his head, “No darlin I’m just gettin’ started.” The hand was once in your hair, now ran up your side trailing goosebumps behind. “Hold steady will ya?” You had no idea what that meant especially when he escaped from your grasp. He swiftly dropped his jeans, stepping out of them then climbed onto the bed, anchoring a knee at each side of your head. He tapped his wet cock on your lips, “Open up.”

Your eyes widened but obliged, opening up for him and taking him even deeper than before down your throat. He leaned froward at an angle starting to thrust into your mouth, gaining a deep grunt from him. While he kept fucking your mouth, a hand trailed down your abdomen ending at your thighs and promptly spread them. Your pussy was practically vibrating at the realization of what he was doing, bending down fully and flattening his tongue against your clit. You couldn’t help but let out a tiny squeak.

Immediately your hips rolled up against his tongue desperate for more. His tongue felt so fucking good, sending scorching shivers across your skin. The pleasure began to compound into your clit and the knot in your tummy told you that you wouldn’t last as long either. You let out a groan around his girth as the tingling in your center grew and you knew you had to do something in order to not fold so quickly.

Using all your strength and taking advantage of his lowered guard, you practically threw you both into a roll, landing you on top. He took no time in adjusting to the new position, in fact the twitching of his cock in your mouth told you it only turned him on more. The change of events gave you a new sense of confidence, slowly pulling off his length, keeping your tongue on him til you came off with a pop. He responded with a vibrating moan on your pussy, eating you more voraciously. You rutted your hips on his face, his hands caressed up your thighs and molded to your hips carefully. But you wanted more, so you gently guided up his hands guiding up your torso to your breasts. His hands instantly began massaging your mounds and playing with your nipples over your dress. “Fuck.” You breathed out, taking in the little bit of control you’d gained.

Without warning, from one particularly delicious round of his tongue on your clit, your orgasm washed over you almost violently. You should’ve been embarrassed at how loud you were being, seeing as your room was next to the others but in that moment you couldn’t care. How could you when your mind was blinking flashes of white as your orgasm ripped through you.

You needed him and you needed him now. In a feral jolt you attempted to get off his face, the sensation getting too much. He instantly gripped your hips, digging his nails into them holding them in place just above his lips. “Remember what I told you earlier, it’ll feel good. I promise.” His voice so rich and dripping in dark desire. Then he did something you didn’t expect, he blew a stream of air directly on your throbbing nub, sending chills and goose bumps to erupt across your skin. You were so sensitive that just the blow of air sent you into another frenzied orgasm. Your juices were dripping down your thighs and onto him and you couldn’t take it anymore, you needed him.

Mid-orgasm you somehow managed to rip from his grip, flip over and slide yourself on his still erect member. The sudden contact gained you a loud groan and his long digits back curled around your hips, a feeling you were beginning to crave. He looked at you with dark navy eyes full of utter loathing, the look alone was driving you crazy. How could someone looking at you with such hate turn you on so much?

Your eyes rolled back once the head of his cock was planted in the deepest part of your core and you began to roll your hips keeping him in place. Your own hatred for him fueled your actions, faster, harder, angrier. Now that you had a full view of him, every single little off-hand comment or insult pushed you to ruin him.

His hands drew up your waist, then your chest, seemingly taking in every inch of you, then grasped you by your midsection pulling you down to face him. A split second passed as he studied your face, then most unexpectedly, using his hands to pull you into a kiss. It was a jarring shock at first, especially since you were mentally preparing his demise just seconds ago, but you easily melted into it. His tongue slid across your bottom lip begging for entrance and you obliged.

The tip of his tongue hesitantly met yours before dancing against it ravenously. From what little you knew about this man, you at least knew that hesitation was not in his arsenal of abilities. Out of everything, why the fuck would he hesitate over a measly kiss?

He trailed down your body, again giving each part of you attention before landing on your hips once more. This time his grip was tight than ever, and it was clear as to why when he kept you in place when he started to thrust into you from below. The position allowed his dick to reach greater depths within you. In one sharp ram into your core, you both let out moans into each other’s mouths. Your fingers found his hair and intertwined in it, his pumps and your tongues at work never halting.

The sound of your bodies colliding against each other filled the room and his pumps became quick and erratic. You could tell he was close, so you decided to help him a little extra by clenching your walls around him each time his cock filled you fully. Shortly after your extra aid he spilled a thick river of cum deep inside you, his entire body tensing beneath you. Since his movements halted from his orgasm you took over, bouncing on his member to ride out his high.

You finally pulled from his plump lips and he let out a tiny whine as if he didn’t want to let you go. Once you felt him begin to soften inside you, you pulled off and fell next to him. Your chests rose and fell in time with each other, equally coated in sweat. A silence fell over the room as the realization of the event started to settle in, suddenly the giant elephant entered the room again. Your eyes locked onto the dark wooden ceiling, words couldn’t seem to form in your fucked-out mind.

Out of your peripheral you caught him close his eyes and take a deep breath. He spoke nothing and peeled himself from the plush duvet, taking a moment to sit on the edge in thought then crossing the room, disappearing into the bathroom then reappearing with a towel.

“Here.” He said simply offering the white cloth, even the tiny peace offering held distain.

“Thanks.” You mumbled, snatching the towel and started to clean yourself up. “So um are you-“ He stopped you before you began.

“I’m staying.” He never even so much as looked at you and just went through his leather go-bag, pulling out what looked like pajama pants.

“But why you said-“ You began to protest but was once again cut off.

“I didn’t find another place to sleep.” His voice so emotionless and deadpan. “So, I’m stuck here with you.”

You scoffed, “Because that would be so fucking bad?” Pulling yourself up on your elbows to look over at him.

His turned and eyes locked onto you like a target, eyes void of any feeling that wasn’t abhorrence. “Yes. It is. Because I’ve truly never met somebody that I hate more than you. Being trapped in the pits of hell sounds more pleasant than spending the night here with you. So, just stay on your side of the bed and I’ll stay on mine.”

A burning flared across your body in anger and roaring even fiercer in your chest with a feeling you couldn’t place. How could someone be so fucking vile over someone they barely knew. “Fine.” Your tone matched his with equal aggression. “Fucking sounds good to me.”

-> Part 3 up now 💓

taglist: @lindszeppelin @steph-speaks @sagesolsticewrites @presleysdarling @purejasmine @slowsweetlove @powerofelvis @pennyroyalcreep @navsblog @eliseinmemphis @cryingabtab @ab4eva @infatuatedharleys @samfangirls @julie181 @ccab @denised916 @katelswan @amaliking @michellelv @butlersluvbot @coloradohighs @rairaielv @centaine @babyminghao @saesire @h3ll0k1tt9 @tchalametishot @austinbutlerinleather

If you'd like to be tagged in a potential Part 3 please comment 💗

thank you for reading! if you enjoyed this story/my writing pls consider giving my main fic, Forever Winter, a read - if you like angsty sad smutty you’ll probably like it lol

also pls consider giving this a like, comment or reblog ♡

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kandavers · 9 months

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I just wanna let you know that I check your blog everyday for updates. It's the part of the day I look forward to! :)

Hehe, I know I said I would be in a Art Hiatus, but I kind of lied… :p

I only wanted to take a Hiatus because I was in a bad mood because of the art repost account ;-; But now that my art has been brought to Justice, I’m in a Very Happy mood once more! Now I can embroider my Name on theur Clothes with a Happy Heart !

So yeah, I’m pretty much still Posting Every Day for you ! …I must take a real Break one of these days though!

#kanrambles #ask

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cryptidclaw · 6 months

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Are you still doing stuff for the Hawthorns? Haven't been much talk about those guys in a while

I am still working on them, though they are kinda on hiatus! I want to focus to RoC and actually make progress on it heh...

After RoC is over I will be focusing on the Hawthorns! I may even make a comic for them! But that's a while away rn :P

#i really can only handle one big story at a time #cryptid answers #the hawthorns #cryptid's the Hawthorns

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laprimera · 6 months

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alrighty so after some reflection and getting some outside stuff prioritized Im done some blog housework so I can get comfortable here again.

im still gonna continue my hiatus until november cause the rest of October still has a lot of rl appointments and stuff going on. ill be nuking my ask and drafts to get into maximum turtle plot overdrive and just start things clean, but here's the skinny under cut:

. Ive went and cleaned up my followers list. mostly of inactive blogs, non-mutual or blogs that haven't reached out or interacted at all. I use to think I liked a busier dash but I think trying to keep up with it had been giving me anxiety even if my muses weren't involved in anything plot wise. FOMO has been really killing my vibe more then anything and I need to cut that habit out.

you're a-okay to refollow though! I'll do the same. none of this was done out of malice or a personal dislike, and I get being so busy w/ life and personal plots that you cant interact with everyone in a convenient moment. but if you see this as an opportunity to reach out then by all means! that and I might've accidentally unfollowed one or two of you cause side-blog deal, clumbsy thumbs, and uuh, dont mind me realizing that later down the line-my bad!

. unless carefully plotted otherwise, anything outside my own canons, affiliated blogs/mains or plots is no longer canon to my own. any interaction or thread initiated towards my muses will default fall into my lore/verse unless vice versa or its plotted and etc etc. It's no longer just hanging there in the void so to speak. I need to feel more in control of my own narrative I think and trying to puzzle a lot of contradicting outside plots, dash events, etc has been mentally taxing when rp shouldn't be occupying so much space or anxiety to begin with lol.

this isn't to say everything thats happening in the dash or w/ other characters isn't important ofc! and I still want to participate; it'll just fall under a crack/non-canon tag. if things end up lining up p' well with whats going on here then I might take it into canon. This is p' much what I've been doing to begin with, it's just more concrete now and Im being more careful of what Im willing to accept now. Im ofc open to discussing stuff! DMs and disco for those who have it are open always even if I take a moment to get to it!

. Im no longer answering anon asks that are personal in some way, ie, around subject matters that aren't general headcanons asks or 'hey how do you feel about-' sorta deal. I dont feel comfortable taking it to public and while I understand having the fear of being identified, it's not fair if I'm the only one bearing the subject so to speak. If you want to talk to me through DMs you can either tell me your UN (no burners either) so I can bypass permissions here to chat or you can reach me at @shiny-miltank where my IMs are not barred to mutuals only. I don't bite really! and my discord is not public. tbh Im still very anxious about being on disco to begin w/ cause social anxiety flare ups. idk tumblr dms always seemed easier to chat until I know you on a personal basis-its just worked that way.

. making it more strict that you dont? put my geeta in place of plots, events, etc that I havent participated or plotted with, nor can you make assumptions for them based on said events. as slapped on every piece on my about/rules/pinned/etc shes heavily canon-divergent to begin with so no one knows her intentions/actions (save for me ofc) and wont act in what presumed canon-geeta would do or your own version so to speak. easy enough to slap me an IM for "is it okay to-", plotting, or just make a nebulous npc stand-in.

. things that havent changed are the use of my lore and headcanons into your own! I love seeing it integrated or adapted into other lore and seeing just how much it inspires and changes over time!

this all seems rigid but really it's just reiterating whats already in my rules and no one here has been a huge offender at all :' ) this is more for me to follow and I cant thank everyone enough for their patience and creativity for as long as I've been here. Im loosey goosey and go with the flow 90 out of 100 times.

this goes for the rest of my muses, which Ill probably clean up when Im back-but yeah! miss ya'll! hope you've been doin' good! the terrapagos plot will continue then and Ill resume reaching out and leaving details! hopefully in time for dlc ; >

#ooc. ･ﾟ ✹#queue. ･ﾟ ✹#importante and stuff #sorry this is at 3 AM gdfgfd-this is like the only time Im awake ironically #but again ill be really back in november! see ya then!

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makeste · 6 months

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Just out of pure curiosity, isn't this a horrible way to experience the story lmao?

I'm not saying it's for everyone, but it's worked for me personally so far. more than I would have expected, tbh!

honestly though, this might sound kind of backwards, but a big part of my decision to read these chapters early had more to do with me NOT wanting to be spoiled. let me explain.

I went on hiatus from the BnHA manga beginning in January 2022. I remained completely spoiler-free for almost eight whole months without the slightest issue. then August happened. :')

the thing is, despite my taking a break from the manga, I didn't stop reading fanfiction. in fact I probably read more fic than I usually do, because I missed the series and the characters. it may sound odd that I had the time to read fic but couldn't use that same time to catch up with the manga instead, but they're very different things as far as mental load and time commitment. one is very passive, almost relaxed, while the other requires me to be quick-witted and mentally engaged (at least if I want to do a halfway decent job). something which I wasn't really capable of being at the time. so yeah.

anyway so at the time I generally thought of fanfic as a relatively safe activity, spoiler-wise. and to be fair it was. right up until the single most popular character in the series fucking DIED in the most grisly way possible while fighting the main villain, right in the middle of everyone's fucking summer break. after which pretty much the entirety of fandom erupted into "BAKUGOU DIED??!" and "HE DIED THINKING ABOUT IZUKU??!" and "BABY BOY WANTED ALL MIGHT TO SIGN HIS TRADING CARD?!?!" and "RAIN!?!?" etc. etc. pretty much 24/7 on all social platforms for weeks on end.

so what I learned from that experience is that no matter how good you are at dodging spoilers, it is literally impossible to do so when something THAT momentous and life-altering happens your favorite character who also happens to be fandom's most beloved blorbo. hell, I didn't even get spoiled on AO3 initially; they got me over on YouTube of all places. literally nothing I could do to prevent it. and after that, no matter how meticulously I avoided all of the fics tagged with "362: Light Fades to Rain spoilers", I still kept getting caught off guard because people would casually drop spoilers into untagged fics as well. so I had a bunch of additional little details spoiled for me unexpectedly and I was pretty much defenseless against it. pretty much the only way I could have avoided it all would have been to stop reading Kacchan whump entirely. which, idk about you, but to me that would have been a far more horrible fate. :p

anyway so fast forward to last month, and Kacchan finally came back, and you bet your ass I spoiled myself for it immediately. because I knew it would still take me forever to get caught up The Right Way, and in the meantime I would once again be leaving myself at the mercy of the internet. at least this way I have control over where and when and how I find out. and I got to experience the moment via the manga itself, rather than a third party. and I have to say, this way was vastly preferable to the alternative.

and at the end of the day that's pretty much the same rationale I had for giving in and reading 404 - 406 as well. I knew that once Kacchan was back, the pace of the Final Battle was going to start picking up, and things were going to start happening, and I'd rather read all of those things for myself! like just for example, there's close to a 100% chance the "Kacchan" line from this week would have been spoiled for me in someone's fic if I hadn't read 406 beforehand. just little things like that. anyway so this way, no matter what happens to Kacchan and Deku from this point forward, I'll get to read it fresh and experience it in a way that I unfortunately never got to with the chapter 362 moment. and so to me, that's more than worth the trade-off.

#bnha 406 #bnha 362 #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #makeste reads bnha #asks #and honestly these last few chapters have been so self-contained #and focused pretty much exclusively on this one battle #that there really haven't been *that* many spoilers for other things #and the few things I don't yet have context for have been easy enough to piece together even without #so yeah all in all it really hasn't been that bad #and still hoping to finish catching up within a few weeks' time so then this will all be moot

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magicalrocketships · 6 months

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Twenty Questions for Fic Writers

Tagged by @powerful-owl! (Em's answers are here)

1. How many works do you have on ao3?

170. Crikey etc.

2. What's your total ao3 word count?

2,698,478. That's a lot of words.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

At the moment I'm writing F1, but I haven't been able to write anything for quite a while, and I never put the lid on any fandom. I've got some outstanding 1D WIPs that are on hiatus.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Emperor's New Clothes (1D famous/not famous, NDA where there used to be a relationship)

Can't Fight The Moonlight (Harry/Draco accidental mpreg)

Truly, Madly, Deeply (10 Things I Hate About You) (1D high school AU, famous/not famous again)

Maybe This Time (1D age play)

I Had Rather Hear My Dog Bark At A Crow (tomlinshaw, secret relationship, watersports, resulted in some of my favourite saved screenshots:

hashtag never forget (my beloved)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

LOOK, I want to, and I used to when I had a fic lj, but every couple of years I'd try to on ao3 and then I'd just be drowning in my own horror at writing "thank you so much!!!!" over again and essentially we hit a slump and I haven't in ages. I'm going to pick it up again, though.

6. What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

oh god I hate a sad ending. I hate them!!!! I will only accept an ambiguous ending under certain circumstances, so I don't think I've got any with truly angsty endings. I've got plenty with very angsty middles. That SAID, I occasionally get hassle from people who don't think my fics are happy enough at the end because I don't like to tie all the ends up. I really, really hate pointless epilogues - NOTE, not all epilogues are pointless, and some of them I love - but the ones where it's just an unnecessary flash forward and all the problems are solved and they've got 2.5 children and a beautiful house and everything's perfect and it just feels like a horror story to me, like a fannish/romance novel version of the stepford wives. If it's an epilogue where the characters have had a bit of a chance to breathe after the main events, and they're happy, GREAT. If it's a cookie cutter ending then I'm out, so I guess maybe the end of Emperor's New Clothes where they're trying living together and trying to be financial partners in their relationship, and Not Your Fault But Mine, where Louis and Nick are together but it isn't obvious which route Louis is going to take back to university/he's still struggling with his mental health was still too angsty for some people. To me, both those fics end with them together and planning for a future so they feel happy to me.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I think all of mine are happy but maybe We Used To Wait is the most deserved happy ending, because it's the one where Louis was in an accident and a secret relationship with Nick, and he's in intensive care and his injuries are really bad, and the ending is him getting to perform again, and being out and being with Nick.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

y e p. Sometimes it makes me laugh because this fic very clearly wasn't For You, just press the back button, and sometimes it's more frustrating. Sometimes it's gross.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Oh yeah baby. My current fic is delightfully feral (to me) and I love writing smut. And then other times, I'm like... yes we won't be writing THAT right now thank you, no sex please we're British. Usually I have one week per month when I vastly prefer everyone keep their clothes on. Love a weird hormonal flux.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I have in the past, but in general now I can't be bothered. I definitely wrote a Sharpe/Doctor Who one back in the day.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yeah, a few times. The most egregious (and recent) was someone stealing We Used To Wait (which was Louis/Nick) and changing the names to Aaron and Robert, and amending various little bits to suit Emmerdale canon. If you're going to steal a fic, it's best to do it in a fandom I'm not in/I don't fucking read in, for the love of fuck.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes, I love having a blanket transformation policy on AO3. I'm always so in awe of people wanting to engage with your writing like that.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes! A couple of short ones and then the delicious Sugar, We're Going Down which I co-wrote with my very dear Anonymous friend, and we didn't ever think we were going to share it when we wrote it (hence why my friend is anonymous on it!) so we just went balls to the wall feral with it.

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

I don't have an answer to this, but if I ever considered something my OTP I will go to my grave loving it. I love Louis/Nick so much, and each OTP before that. Right now I'm extremely focused on Max/Daniel and I don't see that going anywhere soon.

15. What's a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

Nope, I have the I Had Rather sequel and Harry Styles Cooks outstanding but hopefully they'll both get an ending when the time's right, even if it's just me reading them.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue? Angst? IDK??!! Help!

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Oh, action and description for sure. I'm not a very visual writer/reader, I very rarely have a picture of a character in my head or the space that they inhabit. I know everything they say, though.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I'd be worried about fucking it up. If I knew someone who was a native speaker and it worked, then I guess.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Young Americans technically, then probably Percy/Oliver in Harry Potter and Dom/Billy for the Lord of the Rings films.

20. Favorite fic you've written?

I Had Rather Hear My Dog Bark At A Crow - I loved writing this, it came together in a few weeks, it made me fall in love with the pairing, legit changed my life for various reasons and I just enjoy it a lot.

Anyway, tagging @allwaswell16, @astorytotellyourfriends, and @junkshop-disco if you fancy it :)

#waffling on about fic

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haydenwilliamsillustrations · 1 year

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Hayden Williams x Beyoncé in Dubai Took a little hiatus, but I’m back! So, here are my designs I was asked to officially create for Beyoncé to wear for her performance in Dubai. I did these in Dec & was informed that Bey loved ALL 5 of them & that we would be moving forward. Imagine how happy I was to be informed of this?! One of my big dreams was finally going to come true. In the end, I had to find out through social media that my designs weren’t used, which I was obviously incredibly sad about. Congrats to all of the talented designers who got to dress her that night. Obviously, it would’ve been more courteous to have been informed personally that my designs would not be used, but nonetheless, my dream of officially designing for Beyoncé is still something I have hope for. The fact that she loved my designs & wanted to wear them is a major step in the right direction for where I want to continue to steer my career (more fashion design focused). I’m a hard working & talented person. I genuinely love what I do & have been doing this since childhood. When working with others, I always go above & beyond to not only be professional with my communication, but also to deliver what is asked of me creatively & then some!! I’ve come too far & accomplished too much in my career thus far to ever give up on my dreams, even when things don’t always go the way I would’ve hoped. I’m a firm believer in divine timing & when something is meant to be, it will be!!! I wanted to share these designs/this story, so people who have followed my journey will know that even though my Insta is a highlight reel, I go through these kind of things sometimes, & it’s only a setback if you make it one. Hopefully this can inspire someone to not give up & to keep on going. Also, thanks to the #Beyhive who always show so much love to my designs. I really wanted this moment to come to fruition so that you all could be like “Yasss…finally!!”. My time will come & I won’t give up. I’m very blessed that exciting & major opportunities are always coming my way… 🙏🏾💛 #Beyonce #Dubai #FashionDesign #FashionIllustration https://www.instagram.com/p/CoaXa6UM9St/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#beyhive #beyonce #dubai #fashiondesign #fashionillustration

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spinyfruit · 8 months

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Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love❤

ooh how fun! thanks for the tag <3

this is listed in no particular order.

King for a King - AmeRus oneshot, royal au.

This was super challenging to write, but I am increasingly pleased with the ending of it. Actually, it's one of the few fics I have that I even reread, and I enjoyed it. So I'm pretty proud of this one.

And if the fog never lifted - RusPru, AusPru, Gilbert-centric

I have to mention my magnum opus. The fic that literally dragged me back to Hetalia after a four-year hiatus haha. I don't really know how I wrote this fic, and I don't know if I'll write another fic like this again, but yeah, I have a lot of love for this story. It's where I fell in love with Ivan, too.

Teeth of Flame - RusAme/AmeRus, Vampire Au

My collab with @findingschmomo has been so much fun! I love vampires and vampire hunters, so it's been a really nice project to work on. I think it is also the first fantasy au I've ever done in fic too.

Everything for the first time (all over again) - RusAme

This was the first time I wrote RusAme and I remember being so happy writing it. So this one has fond memories for me.

EDIT: apparently I can't count. Here's the fifth :P

Broken cigarettes and spilled beer - RusPru

My insane 15k oneshot that was also my first rated E fic. At the time I wrote it, it was my favorite. I still like it a lot hehe. Quite insane of me though.

#my fics #tag game #void talk #rusame #ruspru #amerus #auspru

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milaswriting · 9 months

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Hi! I've just read the update... and so much more. Because of a long hiatus I took at some point (from IF in general), I had like 5 chapters worth of content to read when I came back to it (since chapter 10 was soon to be released when I took a look back, I waited for it).

And wow, it's been a... very strange experience to me!

To put some things in context, back when I first started your IF all this time ago, I directly decided A will be my chosen RO, considering they are the most "my type" of character. Besides, B and P, while I like them a lot, are more a "strictly platonic friend" type of characters for me, and I didn't like K very much. They were the only one I actively (albeit not harshly) disliked.

Now, when restarting the game now - needed it not only for the saves but also to refresh my memory of it - I realized... despite liking them a lot, A didn't "work" for me as a RO, so to speak? Like, call it some sort of instinct, but I felt like "something isn't as it should be". So I did reconsider my choice, and I thought I'll change my chosen RO before I continue on with the story. But who to chose? One of the two I could only see as friends (I still wanted a romantic playthrough), or the one I disliked a bit? Yes, my brain works in mysterious ways sometimes and... I did pick K.

And it all... sort of "clicked". That feeling of "wrongness" with A on my old playthrough, and my dislike of K... It was all rooted in this. My current playthrough feels so RIGHT, and now, with them as my chosen RO, I love K so SO much. All the while, I don't like A any less for not being the chosen RO. So it was all my instinct screaming that I was picking the wrong character. Or maybe my MC trying to convey to me I've been missing the point and keeping him apart from his soulmate, who knows. It's surreal how the only member of the team I disliked a bit became the character I like the most!

So yeah, anyway, sorry for the useless and waaay too long talk. I do think it's funny though since such a thing never happened to me before!

Regardless, I love the game so much, and it was a delight to have such a big chunk of content all at once - so in the end, I don't regret the hiatus, at least for this specific game!

This was a very cool ask to read, and it’s interesting how a hiatus can be such a positive thing sometimes. Thanks for picking up this story again, and for loving K especially when you weren’t a fan of them at first. I imagine that K would be very smug about your opinion of them changing drastically.

#ask

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phoenixiancrystallist · 3 months

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I'm scheduling more photo dumps to post and getting sad that we're almost to the end of it. Still a whole month and some change to go, but still too close to make me happy. I want to keep doing them! As Cuff says, "Athia has so much to offer the dedicated explorer."

I've got a few ideas, though :) And I was gonna make a poll to see which one y'all wanted to see first, but then I went "well wait a minute, I have seven ideas and there are seven days in the week. I'll just do all of them on a different day!" So behold! A new schedule!! :D

Monday: Magic Monday, shots of every single one of Frey's spells. Every. Single. Spell. ...that isn't, like, cloak enhancement spells or whatever since those have no visual component lol

Tuesday: Tragic Tuesday, pictures of various skeletons scattered across Athia. May or may not but heavily leaning towards may include the drabbles/microfics I promised forever ago

Wednesday: Wet Beast Wednesday! Except most of them aren't wet, lol. Basically a bestiary of everything Frey can murderkill around Athia. Broken, Nightmares, Tanta minions, possibly the Tantas themselves. The possibilities are limited only by the number of enemies in the game! :D

Thursday: Thinky Thoughts Thursday, shots of the interiors of the Cognoscent's Guilds. Because they're cool and I like them.

Friday: Fashion Friday! All the fashions and styles of Athia and beyond, from Frey's cloaks and necklaces to whatever the heck Treahy's hat is supposed to be

Saturday: Caturday, naturally. A day for all kitty cats, both magical and mundane. Probably gonna run out of these sooner than any of the others, though. Still, that's 9 mundane cats, 20 magical kitties, and Homer, so at least 30 weeks of kitty pics :)

Sunday: Sunday Funday, random pretty shots of Athia because I can't stop myself from taking them anyway lol

The last of the current photo dumps is scheduled for Friday, March 8th. This new schedule will start up on Monday, April 1st, to give myself more time to organize and build up a nice backlog. I may add to the dumps ending on March 8th; it turns out Visoria Castle is visible on the horizon before spoilers happen, so I'm probably going to take a ton of pictures in Visoria that include the castle. Because it looks cool and I can :P But those shouldn't take up the rest of March, so expect a photo dump hiatus sometime that month.

#Forspoken #bobbi's being weird again #I have a lot of work cut out for me #and I wouldn't have it any other way :)#also yes all of these will include DLC content 💜

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eddiemvnsonsbabymama · 1 year

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¡Aquí Yo Mando!

Pairing: Eddie Munson X Fem!Reader

Summary: You knew that Eddie was experimental during sex; always willing to try something new and sticking to it when you both like it. So when you ask a teeny, tiny favor from him, he’s hesitant at first but does whatever for you. Little did he know that he would like it this much. Or (in simpler terms), Eddie Munson tries to be submissive for the first time in his life.

THIS BLOG INCLUDES: riding, eddie being a sub ™️, porn with plot, praising, whimpering (mainly from eddie), dom!reader, booby grabbing, hickeys, p in v, eating out, filthy smut like absolutely grimy. happy ending though!

BEFORE READING: sorry for the long hiatus lol im trying to get better at writing smut but yeah sorry

The first time you had sex with Eddie Munson was during the school hours of Hawkins High School, having a quickie in the back of his van during the lunch hours after he had noticed how agitated you were. Was it about your finals? SATs? Tests? Maybe his D&D campaign? Whatever it was, he would help take the pressure away and being the good boyfriend he was, he fucked you right in the back of his van. It was cramped, but just enough for you to stretch your legs out from underneath him as he relentlessly pounded into you and the van creaked with every animalistic thrust he did.

Since then, you both had found excuses to have sex almost everywhere: the kitchen counter, the shower, the public stalls in Hawkins Highs’ restrooms, anywhere. And during those times, he would always be on top of you, heavy breathing and groaning loudly while cursing profanities under his breath and his large hand would be pressed against your back.

You didn’t think about much of your guys’ sex life but sometimes, you just wanted to try something new and you were afraid that Eddie might not like what your idea was. Either way, it didn’t hurt to try and ask anyway. The worst case scenario is that he could just say no, yet you still feel your stomach twisting and churning as your car slowly crept up to the trailer park. It was nighttime, the nightly mist passing by silently and most of the trailer park residents were inside their little homes — if you can call it that. When your parents asked where you were going in such a late time, you merely told them that you were going over to a friends house for a sleepover and besides, why did they need to know?

You were 18, you could make your own decisions.

You gently chewed on your bottom lip as you parked your vehicle on the other side of the trailer since Eddie’s van had already taken the other side and you saw that his uncle wasn’t home. That was fine, you both knew that Wayne had to work long hours at the processing plant down further Hawkins. The engine turned off with the twist of your key and you stepped out to examine the trailer more.

Most of the lights were on, the light was blue-ish and translucent on the small porch but you jumped back when the screen door opened with such force that you thought it would break. “Hey!” Eddie greeted, the light casting over his facial features and made shadows. You couldn’t help but laugh at his over excitement as he rushed up (he didn’t run — more like he just jumped off the porch) to you and pulled you into a tight hug.

His chest clashed against yours, his face buried into your shoulder, your arms wrapped around his torso. The moment seemed sweet and you almost completely forgot why you were there — almost. “What’re you doing here? C’mon, let’s go inside.” He offered, nodding his head towards the swung open door and placed his large hand to your back as he led you to the porch.

You felt your nervousness bloom into your stomach like a flower as he opened the door for you and you walked inside his rather spacious trailer. Mugs were hung up on the walls or were hanging on the shelves which..yeah, you definitely found a little weird yet cute. One of them had text on it that read #1 Dad that you assumed was for Wayne. Your head whipped around when Eddie walked in, closing the door behind him and it doesn’t take you two that long to end up in the bedroom.

As soon as he walked in, you basically pounced on him by pulling him into a kiss and you both didn’t break that as your feet tangled with his whilst you were stumbling down the hallway. Clothes were beginning to tear off — first his black band shirt was discarded onto the floor of the hallways, next was your blouse which displayed your breasts and your knees hit the the back of his mattress which was stained — ew.

He reached up to unbutton your jeans, breathlessly and leaned up to kiss your neck. Your stomach swirled with excitement as you lifted your hips up when he tapped the sides of your thighs, gesturing you to help with your jeans and he gently sucked on the exposed flesh of your neck. It left a red marking before he began kissing down your body, his fingers hooking into your underwear as he peeled them off and he pressed a kiss above your belly button. He pulled your legs open, his eyes slightly widening at just the sight of you.

“You’re a good kisser.” You quickly said when he tried to ask about the slick collected within your entrance and he just stammered before finally giving up on his words. Eddie pushed his hair back before grabbing your legs to position them onto his shoulders and you swore that you died as soon as his lips wrapped around your clit. His tongue did small kitten licks, torturing you as he watched your face contorted into pleasure and he leaned his head down before sliding his tongue in between your slick folds. He leaned forward to press his nose into your clit and you swore that you felt your heart pop like a balloon because holy hell, he knew what he was doing.

You watched with bleary eyes as he basically tongue fucked you — his large hands were pressed against your inner thighs to keep your legs apart, his eyes closed as he ate you out, and the grotesque sounds of his tongue meeting your cunt repeatedly bounced off the walls of his bedroom. You knew how loud you were and you didn’t care because it felt so fucking good that you came…twice. “Eddie, Eddie.” You said, your mind a little hazy from his tongue and he looked up at you with his chin resting above your stomach.

You could see his lips were wet and dripping down his chin, his nose was wet too before he reached up and wiped it off with the back of his hand. “Yeah, babe?” Eddie asked, breathlessly and watched as you sat up. Now here was where the nervousness came in and it blossomed as he stood up, but the first thing you noticed was the dark patch within his jeans. “Can I…ride you?” You asked, feeling absolutely nervous as you played with your fingers and you just wished that you could do something to make the question less awkward.

“Sure.” He said with no hesitation which caught you off guard and he crawled forward onto the bed to pull you into a kiss. He quickly rolled onto his back and you felt your nervousness go away as you undid his belt and his hard length was practically poking out of blue-and-white checkered boxers. He watched with bated breath as your fingers tiptoed around his throbbing cock and you felt your breath caught within your throat. You’ve had sex before but you were always on the bottom and weren’t in charge until now so you did feel a little which Eddie immediately caught on.

“We..listen, we don’t have to do this, okay? I won’t get mad or anything.”

“Just shut up and fuck me.”

Immediately he shut his jaw and watched as you straddle his waist with his tip barely touching you. The feeling sent goosebumps through his waist and he winced in pleasure when you slam your hips onto his pelvis bone, the flesh of your ass hitting against his thighs and you gasp in surprise at the sensation. The cold air was hitting against your body, your nipples hardening as you tried to figure out what the hell do next.

You lean forward to place your hands onto his bony chest for stability and you close your eyes as you began to move your hips forward. The back of your thighs rubbed against the sides of his stomach, causing a delicious rub to occur between the two of you and your mouth dropped as you moaned breathily. But the thing that took you by surprise was the small whimpers..from Eddie Munson himself. His large hands greedily gripping at whatever skin that was visible until his hands reached your tits and he groped them.

“Oh, shit. You’re so hot.” He hissed, watching as you fucked yourself on his cock and you merely giggled as your hands withdrew from his chest. You tilt your head back in pleasure, your hair falling over your shoulder and you moaned softly as you slowly moved your hips forward. Eddie tried to speed up the process by moving his hips up but you placed your hands onto his lower stomach and pressed down harshly, causing him to whimper.

You lean forward to where your face to close to his and you look into his fucked out eyes that were half lidded. “Don’t. I’ll go at my own pace.” You said, watching his reaction to which he eagerly nodded and you lean back, keeping your hands on his lower stomach but your grip had lightened. At this point, you felt your orgasm slowly approach but you wanted to torture Eddie as long as you could while being greedy too. Honestly, you could do this for hours.

Your hips felt like they were burning as you picked up your pace, causing your moans to become louder and his breathing to become heavier. The neighbors could hear you from the thin walls of trailer, but you didn’t even care and you were trapped in your own little world full of pleasure. You couldn’t even face Eddie since your face was screwed up as your body jolted forward with every move your hips made and your chest began to rapidly rise and fall.

“Oh, shit. Oh, fuck, I’m close.” Eddie said from underneath you, his hands gripping the flesh of your hips which moved rapidly so you could chase your own orgasm and he watched you in complete bliss. The sight alone almost made him cum too. Your moans were beginning to grow louder by every motion your hips made and you moaned shakily as your jaw dropped. The sound of your loud moans, your ass slapping against his thighs, and his whimpers/cursing swirled around the room like a sweet melody that you could listen to forever and never get bored of.

Your body shook as your orgasm came over you, your movements halting to stop and Eddie began to slowly move his hips up to last through your high. The way your pussy clenched around his cock made him cum instantly, watching as the slick gathered up around your folds slowly roll down the inside of your thighs and he groaned softly as he dropped his hips. The two of you stayed silent besides your heavy breathing and the soft springing of the fresh stained mattress.

He looked at you, face full of sweat, and laughed softly before holding up his hand for a high five which you exhaustedly returned. “I should let you go on top more often.” He joked, causing you to turn to him and you giggled softly.

“Maybe next time.”

A/N:

#stranger things #eddie munson #stranger things season four #eddie munson x female reader #joseph quinn #eddiemvnsonsbabymama #eddie munson smut #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x female reader smut #eddie x you

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adrianicsea · 22 days

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what's ur fave fob song + album and why!! 🥰

EEP thank you for the ask!!! honestly i’m going to pop this under a read more bc i fear you’ve activated my autism blast.

my favorite album, to the surprise of approximately nobody, is folie a deux, and my favorite song is [coffee’s for closers] from that same album.

as for WHY folie is my favorite album, it’s taken me a long time to figure out how to verbalize it. it wasn’t the first album of theirs i bought/heard (that was infinity on high), nor was it the first album cycle that i was actively a fan and participant in (THAT was save rock and roll).

i started listening to fob during their hiatus, and for quite awhile there, it REALLY seemed like the hiatus was going to just… be a breakup. and so, folie WAS, for a long time, their swan song album. it still feels that way, in a lot of ways— in particular, What A Catch, Donnie feels like a celebration AND a funeral for the band. it’s their most complex and ambitious album made up to that point, in terms of the different sounds and instruments being used. it feels like it’s their most autobiographical album, but it also feels like it’s the one that was most made and written For You, The Listener.

“i’m half-doomed and you’re semi-sweet.” “i’m the one who charmed the one who gave up on you.” “i’m a mascot for what you’ve become.” “oh darling, i know what you’re going through.”

it’s INCREDIBLY personal, and a lot of the lyrics are from the perspective of a person who’s at a CAVERNOUS low, but… even still, there’s hope, or a shadow of it, that even if it won’t get better, at least we won’t be alone. a lot has been made of the album title and the art of the two bears representing p*te and patrick —which, yeah, it probably is that— but i think it can also refer to the band as a whole, as a symbol, and the listener. and that whole idea of facing it together, even if it’s not going to improve and you’re doomed either way… i really needed to hear that when i was a teenager. and even now that i’m older and stabler and happier and safe, listening to folie still feels like a long hug or a good conversation with an old friend.

now, why coffee’s for closers specifically? on a musical level ALONE, i think it’s a perfect song from beginning to end. that bombastic drum beat commands your attention from the start, almost like a pulse, and those gorgeous strings help to drive the song forward and carry patrick’s vocals even higher and stronger during that SOARING sweep of a chorus. it never lets up or loses its insistent rhythm, and even after it declares its finale with a horn section, the strings come back to provide a waltz, one last jubilant outro before What A Catch comes in with the emotional steel chair.

but like… those LYRICS, man!! “i want everything to change and stay the same, oh time doesn’t care about anyone or anything!!” “oh baby, when they made me, they broke the mold!” “we will never believe again! kick drum beating in my chest again!” the lyrics in the verses are all SO emotionally evocative, and the “we will never believe again” chant is so beautifully cathartic to sing along to the drum beat.

the peak of coffee’s lyrics though, for me, are the chorus. as fob choruses go, it’s surprisingly simple, relying more on a catchy melody than complex lyrics:

“i will never believe in anything again, i will never believe in anything again! though change will come, oh, change WILL come, but i will never believe in anything again!”

now, i have a LOT of trouble dealing with any kind of change in life, even positive change, and so there’s a lot of personal catharsis and Being Seen in this chorus for me that applies to my greater life. but more than that… to me, this chorus IS what fob is. no matter how old i get, no matter how much my life grows or changes, no matter the other bands and artists i’ve found and enjoyed, no matter my disillusionment and dislike of p*te… it’s starting to look pretty likely that fob is forever for me.

i will never believe in anything again. not the way i believed in fall out boy when i was a sad, scared teenager.

#asks #fagjolras #this got uh. more real and more personal than i meant for it to

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harry-on-broadway · 2 years

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Tying You To Me: Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

Word Count: 8.2K || Series Masterlist || Rating: M (contains mentions of the p*ndemic)

A/N: Happy NYC N2 day! As we gear up for another show tonight, what better way to celebrate than with a new chapter! I’m kind of in shock that we’re so close to the end, as I’m truly not ready to say goodbye to these two. Thanks to everyone for reading and reblogging. Don’t hesitate to leave a message after you've read this chapter. Happy reading!

***

March 2020

“Vanilla cream cold brew for Quinn!”

Quinn reached for her drink on the counter, but cringed and turned away, ducking her face into the shoulder of her jacket as a tall man next to her coughed without covering his mouth.

It was probably fine, right? What were the odds that the cough had traveled far enough to land in the open cup of coffee?

She stared at the cup of coffee, moving to chew on the raw skin of her thumb before reconsidering. Don’t touch your face, nose, or mouth and you’ll be fine…at least that’s what the news was saying.

The man coughed yet again as Quinn decided to write the coffee off as a loss. She could make a better cup in her own apartment. She exited the shop and strolled down the block, choosing the least crowded side of the street and dodging the few pedestrians that passed her.

The past couple of weeks had been like nothing she’d ever known. The news was continually dominated by headlines of a virus that was wreaking havoc across the globe, and starting to put roots in the US. Doctors were getting more and more screen time on TV, everyone on Twitter suddenly had a degree in public health, and people like Quinn, who regarded herself as a person of average intelligence with average anxieties, were constantly trying to figure out if they were overreacting to the current situation.

Quinn was thankful that those closest to her were also feeling cautious, and many of the group texts she was a part of were constantly fielding questions like “It’s safe to go to the movies right?” or “Is everyone still OK meeting for dinner?”

SNL’s last show had been filled with a new kind of nervous energy as everyone joked about not getting too close during the farewell before the two weeks of hiatus. Between Harry’s visit at the end of the month, and two busy weeks of shows, Quinn hadn’t had much time to focus on anything outside of work and her relationship, but when she woke up on Sunday afternoon her brain suddenly had space to contemplate the state of the world. Which is how she wound up walking around her Midtown neighborhood on a Monday morning, dodging everyone she could while trying to find a germ-free coffee.

She was bouncing up and down on a street corner trying to stay warm when her phone rang. It was Marcus. The fact that he was calling, and not texting, this early in the day set off her inner alarm bells.

“Hey Marcus,” she said, picking up on the third ring.

“Quinn, they’re shutting the show down. We’re not coming back after the hiatus.”

“Marcus, that’s not funny.”

“I’m not joking, Quinn.” Based on the way his voice wavered, she believed him.

“Fuck.”

“I know. Supposedly they’re waiting for this to pass and we can finish with an abbreviated season in late April.”

“Marcus, I don’t mean to be a downer but I don’t think this is going to pass by April.”

“I don’t either,” he said, sighing. “I’m going to be honest with you, Quinn. I’m getting ready to leave the city.”

“What?” Quinn felt a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. “Where? When?”

“This afternoon. Wade’s parents have a vacation home upstate that they’re not using and they said we could crash there to get a little more space. At least for the next month, but I’m preparing for longer.”

“That’s good. At least you can pretend like the world isn’t ending.”

“That’s what Wade said. You should try and come up with an escape plan of your own. We’ve got room for you.”

Quinn bit her lip as she tried not to cry. “Yeah, I’ll try to think of something. Thanks though.” She paused. “Stay safe, Marcus.”

“You too, girl. Love you.”

Quinn felt tears start to run down her face as she swiped into her apartment building and boarded the elevator, thankful that she didn’t have to share with anyone. When she got to her floor, she held her sobs in until she entered her apartment and sank to the floor.

When she first moved in, she was so happy to have a place of her own. After years of sharing with roommates, it felt like an accomplishment to be able to afford a piece of New York real estate all by herself. And after busy weeks spent in the constant presence of others, she enjoyed the alone time and being able to do whatever she wanted in her space when she wanted.

But now, the silence and solitude of her apartment was suffocating as she tried to think about not only the next time she’d have contact with someone, but when she’d actually feel comfortable interacting with a human again.

She was trying to catch her breath when her phone rang again. It was Harry this time.

“Hi babe,” she said, trying to disguise her sniffles.

“Are you OK, love?” Harry asked. Quinn could almost hear the furrow in his brow. “I saw that SNL is shut down.”

“Yeah, that was a bit of a shock.” She could hear Harry breathing on the other end of the line, as he waited for her to speak, not satisfied with the answer she’d given him. She contemplated what to say, trying to play it cool, but her worries won out in the end.

“I’m really scared, Harry,” she said through sobs after a minute. “I’m alone. Everyone’s leaving the city to go to their family or whatever but I can’t do that, because I can’t take the risk of getting them sick, and my apartment is so empty and I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

Harry let her get it all out as he tried to soothe her over the phone, speaking softly and urging her to take slow, deep breaths. He finally spoke again when Quinn’s cries had subsided.

“Would you be comfortable taking a flight now?”

“What?”

“A flight. To LA,” Harry said slowly.

“I guess.”

“Why don’t you fly out to me? I’m going to ride it out with Jeff and we have room for one more. It would actually help me out because I won’t feel like a third wheel and Jeff and Glenne won’t have to occupy me while they work from home.”

“Harry, that’s risky. What if –”

“I’m fine taking that risk if it means you’ll be with me. But the choice is up to you. I won’t pressure you to do something you’re not comfortable with.”

Quinn chewed on the inside of her cheek as she thought about it. Being with Harry was certainly more desirable than spending endless days alone. “I’ll do it. I’ll get the earliest flight out.”

“OK, that sounds like a plan,” said Harry. “I can book your ticket while you pack.”

“Will you stay on with me while I do that?”

“Yeah,” Harry said. “Anything you need.”

Quinn put the call on speaker and she could hear clicking keys on Harry’s end of the line as he booked her flight.

“You’re leaving out of JFK at 4,” he said after a moment.

“Thank you, H,” Quinn said. “I really owe you.”

“Actually you don’t.”

“I –”

“We can argue about it later, Quinn. Just focus on packing.”

Quinn chatted with Harry as she opened her suitcase and started throwing clothes into it. She wasn’t sure what should be on a lockdown packing list but she was fairly sure that sweatpants, t-shirts, and pajamas were the core part of the dress code.

“Don’t forget a swimsuit,” Harry chimed in. “They’ve got a pool out here.”

“Good call,” Quinn replied, pivoting to pull some suits from her dresser drawer. Swimming would be one way to distract themselves as the world collapsed around them.

“And make sure you have that other set, you know the one you wore for my belated birthday party.” Quinn rolled her eyes. “I know you’re rolling your eyes,” Harry replied. “But what else are we going to do when we can’t leave the house?”

“Read a book?”

“I think I like my plan a little better. Remember the lacy one too.”

“Yeah, I’ll see what I have room for.”

“They don’t take that much space…”

“Harry!”

“I’m just saying…”

Quinn ended the call when she was finished packing, agreeing to meet Harry in the pick-up area at LAX before calling an Uber to meet her outside of her building. As she prepared to leave, she stopped and took a step back, surveying the apartment she’d slowly made hers over the past nine months. She didn’t know when she’d be back here again, but she hoped it would be soon.

The city streets were concerningly empty, which made her feel even more nervous, a feeling that only intensified when she saw the ghost town that was the airport. Everyone must have left over the weekend when the first signs of the shutdown began to loom. She tried to put thoughts about what that meant out of her mind and focus on the fact that she’d be reunited with Harry in five hours.

She looked at her ticket, pleased to see that Harry had booked her a first-class ticket, and when she boarded the plane, the cabin was nearly empty, save for a couple of businessmen sitting at the front of the plane.

As the flight took off, she leaned back and closed her eyes in an attempt to block out the world. Before she knew it, she’d be with Harry. They’d swim, they’d get to cook together, and if she was being honest, probably have a lot of sex. They’d make the best of a bad situation and treat this pause like an extended vacation. She thought she’d just closed her eyes for a minute, but when she opened them the flight attendant was gently shaking her shoulder telling her they were preparing to land.

LAX was just as deserted as JFK and she found Harry’s car easily, sliding in the passenger seat within minutes of landing.

“Hey you,” Harry said as she buckled herself in. “It’s good to see you.” His eyes were watery and he looked like he wanted to say something else, but he just cleared his throat and continued on. “Do you need to stop for anything?” he asked. “We’re pretty stocked up on groceries even though we’re trying to order out as much as we can. You know to keep the businesses open.”

“I just need a hot shower and some industrial grade soap. And a kiss from you, but that can wait.”

Harry grinned as he pulled out onto the freeway. “I think I can make all of those things happen.”

Quinn hadn’t seen this side of the city, so Harry pointed out landmarks as they drove by. It didn’t feel like LA though. Everything felt muted and too quiet, a troubling sign of what was to come. Not long after they left the airport, Harry pulled into a neighborhood and hit a button on his sun visor, causing the gate at the front of the driveway to part. Harry drove up the strip of pavement and stopped in front of a mid-sized house. It certainly wasn’t as fancy as some of the other homes in the surrounding area, but as Quinn stepped out of the car and got a glimpse of the backyard, she saw that the simple facade was hiding many luxuries.

“This way,” Harry said, tilting his head as he carried Quinn’s suitcases to the front door and let himself in.

“We’re back,” he called.

Jeff poked his head around the corner, smiling when he saw Quinn.

“Hey, Quinn, welcome. Glad you could make it out.”

“Thanks for hosting me,” Quinn said. “I’m sure a visitor from New York is the last thing anyone wants right now.”

“Don’t be silly,” Harry and Jeff said in near unison, eyes locking when they realized their words had synced up. They grinned. “Jinx.”

“H can take you up to your room and get you settled in while Glenne and I wrap up work. You get to decide where we’re ordering from tonight.”

“Oh, wow, giving me a lot of power already.”

Jeff chuckled. “Hey, if it gets this guy to quit brooding around the house you can do whatever the hell you want.”

“Brooding?” Quinn threw Harry a questioning look.

“I wasn’t brooding, Jeffrey,” Harry said petulantly. “I was just worried.”

“Sure,” Jeff said, glancing at Quinn who was trying to hide a smile. “You were worried.” His phone rang. “Shit, I’ve got to grab this. Talk to you all later.”

Jeff retreated to another room of the house as Harry picked up Quinn’s bags and gestured for her to head up the stairs.

“Your suite,” he said, opening the door with a flourish.

The room was what Quinn would have expected. Neutral, beachy colors, a large bed and Harry’s suitcase opened, clothes spilling across the floor.

“I sort of forgot to clean up,” he said sheepishly.

“It’s fine. I’m going to have to get used to your mess.”

“Hey!”

Quinn laughed. “Is the shower through there?” She pointed at a door next to the bed and Harry nodded. “I’m going to rinse off then.”

“That’s fine, I’ll grab you some towels.”

Quinn squeezed Harry’s forearm, the greatest display of affection that felt comfortable until she’d cleaned up. She closed the door behind her and turned on the water, shedding her clothes and dumping them in a basket that looked to be full of Harry’s clothes.

She closed her eyes as she stood under the hot water, rolling her neck and feeling tension she didn’t know she was holding release. She heard the door crack open and could make out the shape of Harry leaving towels on the counter. She wasn’t sure how long she stayed in the shower, but when she stepped out and wrapped herself in the plush, warm towel, she felt rejuvenated. Harry was waiting for her when she stepped out of the bathroom, reclining on the bed and scrolling on his phone.

“Hey you,” she said.

Harry looked up, eyes glowing and a smile inadvertently creeping across his face. “Hey,” he said softly.

Quinn sat down next to him and he pulled her into a hug. “Towels were nice and warm.”

“I might have tossed them in the dryer for a few minutes.”

“Hmm. You’re setting the bar pretty high. How are you going to keep this up for the next six weeks?”

“That’s the plan, you see. Butter you up now so that you’re more forgiving of me when I’m driving you up the wall.”

“Interesting strategy.”

Harry hummed. “It seems to be working so far. I’ve got you in my bed and you also mentioned something about a kiss?”

Quinn dug her fingers into his side. “Someone’s feeling cheeky,” she whispered as she laced her hands in the tuft of curls at the base of Harry’s neck, drawing him closer to her. She placed her lips against his, firmly at first before melting into him. She felt his hands stroke up and down her thigh, her back, her arm. He was all over her, in the most restrained way possible, not pushing the boundaries, and not taking Quinn’s lack of clothes as an invitation to escalate things. Quinn sighed as they parted, Harry still keeping his hands on her to hold her close.

“I needed that,” Harry said, not quite meeting Quinn’s eyes. “I really needed that.”

“I did too, baby,” Quinn replied.

“I just feel better knowing that neither of us are going to be alone. We’ve got each other to get through this.”

“Thank you for making me come out here,” Quinn said. “I would have just stayed in New York if you hadn’t said anything.”

“Well, you’re here now and that’s all that matters.”

“That’s right,” Quinn replied, bringing her hand up to stroke Harry’s jawline. “Now what’s this about you being broody?”

“Jeff is a drama queen,” Harry said matter of factly. “I was not brooding. I just said I missed you was all.”

“Sure.”

“I’m serious! He just doesn’t understand romance like I do.”

“You understand romance?”

Harry flipped Quinn onto her back as he lay on top of her, and began tickling her. “Take it back,” he cried as they both dissolved into a fit of giggles before he kissed her again.

They lay on the bed for a little while longer, not saying much of anything, just enjoying each other’s company until Harry’s stomach started to growl.

“Does that mean it’s time for dinner?” Quinn asked.

“Yes, and when Jeff asks you what you want for dinner, say you want to order from Mi Ranchito.”

“Mi Ranchito?”

“Yes, it’s your favorite LA restaurant.”

“Interesting seeing as I’ve never been there.”

“Well, don’t tell him that.”

Quinn rolled her eyes as Harry’s stomach growled. “I guess I should get dressed since it sounds like Jeff needs to order that food sooner rather than later.”

“Hey! I was a little busy today and might have forgotten to eat lunch.”

“Thank you,” Quinn said again, struggling to find the appropriate way to convey her appreciation for Harry.

“You don’t need to thank me. This was a purely selfish act on my part. If I’m going to be stuck inside for the next six weeks, the only person I want with me is you.”

Quinn squeezed his shoulder and Harry rolled off of her, allowing her to get off the bed and rummage through her suitcase for some clothes. When she was dressed in a pair of athletic shorts and one of Harry’s t-shirts, they made their way downstairs.

“You all have any suggestions for dinner?” Jeff called as they rounded the corner.

“Quinn’s picking tonight,” Harry called as he headed straight for the fridge, digging around for whatever was available for pre-dinner snacking.

“Yeah,” Quinn chimed in. “Why don’t we order from Mi Ranchito.”

Jeff turned to look at Glenne, who had just entered the room. They locked eyes, then turned back to Quinn.

“You don’t have to say that because Harry told you,” Jeff said, shaking his head as Glenne flicked Harry’s ear.

“Ouch!” Harry yelped. “And I didn’t tell her to say that. She said she was craving it when she got off the plane.”

“I’ve never heard of Mi Ranchito until Harry told me that’s what I should suggest for dinner.”

“So the truth is revealed!” Jeff exclaimed. He turned back to Quinn. “What would you actually like to eat? You’re the guest of honor tonight.”

“Pizza?” Quinn suggested.

“Sounds like a plan!” Jeff clapped his hands. “Come with me, Quinn. I’ve got a menu for you to look at.”

Quinn followed Jeff out of the room and around the corner to a hall table that had menus and other papers shoved in a drawer.

“I am really happy you’re here,” Jeff said as he searched through the pile of leaflets. “It will be great to spend more than a couple of hours with you. Glenne and I were saying the other day that it was kind of strange that we’re all friends and you’re such a huge part of H’s life but we don’t actually know a lot about you. Like what’s your favorite pizza topping? Ice cream flavor? Do you like cats or dogs?”

Quinn felt flattered that Jeff, and Glenne by the sound of it, were so eager to spend time with her. While their relationship had thawed since that initial meeting and they were always good about including her when she was around, she wasn’t sure how excited they’d be to have her crashing in their house. But hearing this from Jeff eased some of the concerns she still felt.

“Sausage. Mint chip. Both, to answer your questions,” Quinn said. “And thank you again for letting me say. This is a pretty terrible situation, but it sounds like we’re going to make the best of it.”

“No problem,” Jeff replied, putting an arm around her shoulders and squeezing. “I’m happy to report this pizza place has a killer sausage pie and we will absolutely be ordering it.”

Jeff started to key the order in on his phone, adding some appetizers, other pizzas, and desserts to the order, and Quinn took advantage of the silence to ask a question.

“Was he really that bad before I got here?”

“You know how he gets in those pouty moods where he’ll still talk to you or whatever but he’s like a thousand miles away.”

Quinn nodded.

“It was like that but worse than I’ve ever seen. I think the combination of not knowing if he could tour, and being away from you and his family, especially while third-wheeling with us, was really taking its toll, not that he’d admit that. It’s night and day, since you’ve arrived. I think he is whistling in the kitchen.”

Quinn turned her ear to the hall and could pick up the faint sounds of Harry whistling a tune that sounded vaguely familiar. “He is. Wow.”

Almost as if he’d heard his name, Harry stuck his head down the hall. “When’s the food getting here?”

“About an hour, but that should be fine seeing as you’ve eaten half a loaf of bread already,” Jeff called back.

“It’s called an appetizer, Jeffrey,” Harry replied, lifting another hunk of bread to his mouth.

Dinner arrived right on schedule and Glenne pulled out plates that the group piled with slices of pizza, fresh salad, and appetizers, including mozzarella sticks. They ate in front of the TV, watching episodes of Real Housewives that Harry suddenly had expert knowledge of.

“Erika is trouble but I’d be so mad if she left the show,” he said, eyes trained on the television as he took a bite from his slice of cheese pizza.

“Since when are you so knowledgeable about Housewives antics?” Quinn asked. She’d known he’d watched several Bravo series with her, since her TV practically always tuned into that channel but didn’t think he’d absorbed any of it.

“I may have gotten hooked when I was staying with you last year,” Harry mumbled.

Bellies full and eyes tired, the four grew quiet as the evening continued, Jeff and Glenne situated with their dog on one end of the sectional and Harry and Quinn cozied up on the other. Quinn hadn’t been sure how Harry would act around the other couple.

While he was always warm and affectionate, he often held back on the PDA, even in the presence of his trusted friends, settling for hand-holding or chaste pecks on the lips or even a tight hug. But as Quinn sat down next to him after returning dishes to the sink. He pulled her into him, turning her so that her legs were resting over his lap, granting him access to both her shoulders and legs which he gently stroked as they watched TV in near silence, occasionally pressing his lips to her hair. Quinn returned the gesture gently scratching his chest through his hoodie.

After another episode, Jeff and Glenne excused themselves, offering the explanation of work in the morning. Harry and Quinn said their goodnights, but remained as they were on the couch. They must have nodded off, because Quinn blinked and when she opened her eyes again, infomercials were playing on the screen while Harry’s head was tipped back, snoring loudly.

“H,” she shook his chest and he jerked awake. “I think we need to go to bed.”

Harry sleepily nodded, standing to search for the remote and switch the TV off before following Quinn upstairs. After an abbreviated bedtime routine they crawled into bed where Harry nuzzled against Quinn, mumbling something that sounded like “goodnight” before drifting off to sleep, Quinn not far behind.

***

The following days brought a sense of routine. Harry and Quinn would wake up, and she’d check her phone while he meditated, before they headed downstairs for the first cup of coffee. They traded off making breakfast each day and had quickly devised different walking and jogging routines throughout Jeff’s neighborhood.

They made time to take meals with Jeff and Glenne, and spent most of their evenings with the other couple as well, but their days were all their own as Jeff and Glenne worked throughout the day.

Harry and Quinn took a summer camp approach to the forced isolation, coming up with themes for each day. A pool day that saw them playing their favorite water games, and seeing who could do the best handstand (Harry won, infuriating Quinn.) Their spa day consisted of massages, at-home facials, manicures, pedicures, and hair masks. Harry had requested a trim as well, saying his fringe was starting to annoy him, but Quinn refused.

“There’s more to grab onto,” she simply, taking her coffee out to the back deck as Harry stood shocked in the kitchen.

Endless hours in the day also provided plenty of time for other distractions, namely reading, watching movies, and having sex, three activities that Harry proved to be very passionate about.

He had a stack of novels from God knows where and he was flying through them at an alarming rate, trying to pass his favorites onto Quinn when he’d finished. She tried her best to get into them, but eventually settled on ordering her own reading list from one of the local bookstores.

“These are my favorite moments with you,” Harry said one afternoon over the pages of a paperback. “It’s nice when we can be quiet together.”

Movie viewing was a daily activity, with each member of the household writing down a bunch of film titles and adding them to a bowl that lived on the kitchen table. Each night, someone would draw a slip of paper and whatever film was listed was the one they would watch. It was through this activity that Quinn learned Jeff had a passion for old-Hollywood musicals, while Glenne preferred hardcore action films. Quinn’s own guilty please, true crime docs, was also outed when her suggestions of Tiger King and The Killing Season were drawn on consecutive nights.

Harry was also trying his best to make sex a daily occurrence, showing Quinn some sort of 30-day sex challenge he’d found on Cosmo, full of inventive positions that Quinn doubted they had the athletic ability to replicate. Their dedication to the schedule lasted three full days, ending when Harry pulled a muscle in his back and Quinn sustained a significant and noticeable beard burn on her inner thighs.

But even with all of the fun activities, the real joy for Quinn was simply getting to be around Harry with one luxury they so rarely had: time.

Their relationship had been dictated by weeks and small bursts of time where they rushed to fit every event, every action, every word, every kiss into the remaining moments they had until they were to part again. It wasn’t so bad. Quinn felt that living that way made her more aware of how she was using her time with Harry – If he was only spending three nights with her, did it make sense to waste one of them in a crowded restaurant when she could actually talk to him at home? – and also made her more appreciative of the little moments they had together. She’d spent years hearing her friends complain about their partners’ annoying habits – leaving socks next to the laundry basket and crumbs by the toaster – but with Harry gone as soon as she could blink, his quirks were more loveable than irritating.

As the weeks crawled by, Quinn was still in this honeymoon mindset. Harry’s habit of leaving half-finished drinks around the house was offset by the hour she could spend lazily kissing him in the morning or evening and his insistence on keeping a strict schedule with no deviation from his health and wellness routine was made more bearable by the fact that he always allotted time to spend with Quinn.

They’d had a few dust-ups – Quinn accidentally shrunk one of his vintage tees while doing laundry and Harry broke her phone charger when he borrowed it – but they’d been quick to mend fences. Quinn even liked the small disagreements in some way, knowing that these tiffs were just a sign that they were an even stronger couple.

Things changed in April, however. While Harry had been forced to postpone his tour, a decision he knew was necessary but still hurt, Quinn’s work picked back up as SNL decided to attempt shows that would be recorded remotely from the various locations where cast members were quarantining.

It was not as simple as getting on a Zoom call, and her once empty days were suddenly consumed with hours of video calls and instant messages as she tried to remind Tom Hanks to unmute himself during a rehearsal and figure out how to get the audio just right so it didn’t have that tinny, delayed sound associated with video calls.

As she began to work more and more, Quinn noticed that Harry was growing a bit withdrawn. He was slow to answer questions when they were directed at him, and he never seemed to be fully listening to her. But when she asked him what was wrong, he simply said he was tired, a peculiar response for a man who was currently getting a solid eight hours a night.

Quinn assumed it had something to do with her zero to sixty return to work, which left Harry to try and occupy his time on his own. For someone who often talked about how he liked his solitude, he was making a habit of having to be with Quinn at all hours. Though he wouldn’t open up to her, he insisted on sitting next to her and strumming his guitar while she read through some sketches, wrote poems and lyrics across the table from her as she took calls with the rest of the production staff, and asked for a kiss each time he entered or exited a room.

Quinn knew this was just his way of showing he cared, but she was starting to feel suffocated. He was always there, in need of attention when she didn’t have any to spare. She tried her hardest to be patient, but she hit her breaking point sooner than she would have liked. She was bent over her computer, dashing off emails, when Harry came into the kitchen, stopping at her makeshift workstation at the kitchen counter. He bent down and wrapped his arms around her, kneading into her shoulders.

“How long have you been working?”

“About six hours,” Quinn replied, not looking away from her screen. “I was on calls with a couple of people still in New York early this morning.”

“Have you taken a break?”

“No.”

“Well that won’t do.” Harry lifted his arms and tried to pry Quinn up from her chair and away from her laptop. “Come on. Get a cup of coffee.”

“I’m good,” Quinn said, nodding towards the cup next to her.

“Well at least stand up and stretch your legs.”

“I’m good, babe. Really just trying to get through these last couple of emails before my next meeting.”

“Quinn, you really should take more breaks. It’s not good for your back and neck if you sit like that all day.”

“I’ll take a walk later.”

“At least stand and stretch. Promise it will only take a few seconds.”

“Harry! Leave me the fuck alone!”

She regretted the words as soon as they were out her mouth. She finally looked away from her email and glanced at Harry who looked like a puppy that had been swatted with a newspaper.

“H-,” she said. “I didn’t-”

“It’s fine,” Harry said calmly. “You're busy, I get it. Sorry to have bothered you.”

“Harry,” Quinn said, trying to quell the panic and guilt that were brewing in her stomach. “I’m sorry. Can we talk about this?” She rose from the table and walked towards him, arms outstretched but he ducked from her reach, turning the opposite direction.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m just trying to leave you the fuck alone.”

Hearing her own words tossed back at her smarted. “Harry. Please, just listen to me. I’m sorry.”

She expected him to turn around and relent to a conversation, but instead he grabbed his keys and a baseball cap and headed to the front door.

“Where are you going?” This felt like an extreme overreaction to the situation. Sure, it made sense for him to be upset, but to walk out? She needed to figure out what was really wrong.

“Harry, what’s up? Is something else going on?”

“No. Just trying to follow orders,” he mumbled.

Quinn was stunned as she watched him walk out of the house. They had disagreements, sure, but this was the worst one since she’d walked out on him almost two years ago. Her reaction then had been warranted. They were arguing over fundamental issues in their relationship. But Harry throwing a tantrum because she asked for a little breathing room? This was ridiculous. She watched him stalk down the driveway, angrily tapping in the code at the gate before turning onto the main road of the neighborhood walking into the distance.

“Everything OK?” Glenne asked, tentatively, stirring a mug of tea. Jeff appeared behind her, looking concerned.

“I don’t know,” Quinn said. “I needed some space to get work done and I snapped. I knew it was the wrong thing to say, but he just flew off the handle and ran away when I tried to apologize and talk it out.” She hugged her arms around herself. “For someone who’s always on me to say what’s bothering me, he certainly doesn’t follow his own advice.” She looked out the window again, hoping she’d see Harry turning the corner, ready to apologize, but there was no one in sight.

“Oh honey,” Glenne said, taking Quinn’s hand and leading her back to the table. “Is this the first fight you all have had?”

“I guess?” Quinn said. “I mean there was the big one…” She trailed off and Glenne and Jeff nodded knowingly. “And I mean we’ve had disagreements but this is the first time we’ve been this…mean to each other.”

“It’s not fun,” Glenne said. “But he’ll cool down eventually and you all can talk it out. Emotions are high and tempers are short right now. I’m honestly surprised it took you all this long to get into it.”

“Yeah, I knew it was bound to happen, but…” Quinn couldn’t put her finger on what about the argument was troubling her. She wasn’t worried that Harry was going to leave her but something nagged at the back of her mind.

“I’m not saying this is an excuse,” Jeff said, chiming in. “But look at us.” He pointed to the three of them. “We’re all working right now. We’ve found ourselves in situations that are letting us continue to work as normally as possible, while he’s basically out of work right now with nothing to do except sit around and watch us.”

Quinn hadn’t thought of it like that and she felt guilty for doing so. Almost like she had neglected one of Harry’s basic needs.

“I think he liked having you in the same boat with him,” Jeff continued. “But now it feels like he’s all alone. He’s probably struggling more than he’s letting on. Give him some space today and I guarantee he’ll be fine tonight and you can talk it all out.”

Quinn nodded, too afraid about what would come out of her mouth if she tried to speak, and as Jeff and Glenne headed off to their own offices, she half-heartedly returned to her own work, not really focusing on what she was doing. A couple hours later the door opened and closed, and Harry appeared in the kitchen.

“Hi babe,” Quinn said tentatively. “How was your walk?”

Harry ignored her, not even looking at her as he grabbed an apple from the basket on the counter and headed to the pool. Quinn almost followed him, thawing his frosty mood a challenge she couldn’t turn down, but she remembered what Jeff had told her and decided to give Harry more time on his own. Waiting would also give her more time to figure out what she was going to say to him.

When 5pm rolled around and everyone agreed to call it a day, she filled two glasses with wine and headed outside. Harry was seated on the edge of the pool, feet dangling in the water. He turned around as he heard Quinn’s feet crunch on the gravel, eyes momentarily lingering on Quinn’s approaching figure before turning back to continue staring at the patio furniture across the pool deck.

Quinn slid her sandals off and sat down next to Harry, dipping her toes in the water. She offered him one of the glasses, which he readily accepted.

“I’m sorry, Harry.” Quinn began. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that, but I was stressed and frustrated. I know you mean well, but you were just overwhelming me in the moment. Next time, I’ll be more patient and won’t yell.”

She took a sip of wine waiting for his answer.

“I had a call with my therapist today.”

“Oh?” That wasn’t what she was expecting him to say.

“We like, already had a session scheduled, and it just happened to be after I left.”

“That’s good.” Quinn wasn’t sure what to say. She knew Harry had been in therapy for some time, but she’d never felt the need to discuss it with him. She knew that was something for himself and she didn’t want to pressure him to share things with her if he wasn’t comfortable.

“Yeah. It was a lot.” They each took sips of their wine before Harry spoke again. “I told her about what you said and how I left. I was expecting her to tell me I was right to walk away since you’d yelled at me but she just asked me why I ran away. ‘Why do you always run away?’ That’s what she said to me.” He looked at Quinn. “And I couldn’t answer her.”

Quinn didn’t want to make any sudden movements, afraid she’d ruin whatever moment was happening. She slowly reached for Harry’s hand and interlocked her fingers with his.

“I tried to change the subject, to complain about how pissed I am about the tour, but she kept pushing that whole running away thing and then finally said, ‘I think you’re angry because you don’t have anywhere to run to.’” He looked at Quinn, letting his words sink in. “Do you know that this is the longest relationship I’ve ever been in?” Quinn shook her head. “Well, it is. You should get some sort of medal for making it this far.” He kicked his feet in the water. “It only occurred to me for the first time today that the reason I’ve never been able to do anything right is because I leave the second it gets hard. So, that’s what I tried to do today. I left. Because things felt hard and I didn’t want to face them.”

“Thank you for sharing that with me, Harry,” Quinn said, squeezing his hand. “Can I ask you a question?” She pressed on after he nodded his consent. “Was it what I said that made you mad? Because you know I didn’t mean it, right?”

“I don’t know what it was. I know you didn’t mean it, but something inside just kind broke when you said that. I just have felt kind of lost recently and hearing that really added to that feeling.”

“Why is that?” Quinn asked, trepidatiously. She thought she knew the answer but was nervous nonetheless.

“I always thought that if I stopped my career and took a break that it would be on my own terms. That I’d stop with music because I had a family or just wasn’t interested anymore or I wanted to start a farm. I wasn’t prepared to have to be with myself so suddenly. And seeing all of you busy with work while I’m just loafing around…I don’t know I just panicked. Like what if I can never tour again and I’m just me. Are you all going to want to still hang around?”

“Of course,” Quinn said without hesitation. “I love you. The guy sitting next to me, not the guy onstage.”

“And I get that, but there’s just this big ‘what if?’ in the back of my mind. And I think hearing you tell me to leave you alone just set me off and instead of talking to you, I just left. It’s all related.”

He splashed his feet some more as he sipped his wine. Quinn scooted closer to him. Harry set down his glass of wine and put his arm around her.

“It’s good that you’re talking about this,” Quinn said softly. “It sounds like it’s something that’s been grating on you whether you knew it or not. Now that you know it, you can work on fixing it, if that’s something you want to do.”

“I do. I want to make sure that I’m my best self for you. I’ve been working on that since we took our break. I thought I’d made a lot of progress, but I guess I still have a long way to go.”

“You have grown,” Quinn said emphatically. “You’re not the boy that broke my heart two years ago. But there’s no shame in still having things to work on. We’re all works in progress, at least according to that boring-ass book you made me read.” The corner of Harry’s mouth ticked up and Quinn buzzed at the fact that she’d managed to get even the smallest smile out of him. “I obviously need to work on not biting your head off.”

Harry chuckled. “Yeah, that was scary. Kind of hot though.”

“Down boy.” Harry flicked his toes in the water, splashing Quinn and she returned the gesture. “Jeff was talking to me and he said this was kind of like a milestone. That we’re actually a real couple now that we’re around each other long enough to bicker and fight.”

“That’s putting a sunny spin on it,” Harry said thoughtfully. “A real couple. I like the sound of that.”

“I’m here for you, Harry. I’ve said it again and again and I’ll say it as many times as you need to hear – I’m not going anywhere.”

“I’m not either. I promise.”

***

The next morning, Harry left Quinn asleep in their bed as he silently searched for a clean hoodie and shorts, gently closing the door behind him. He met Jeff in the hall and they headed out the door, ready to set off on an early morning hike.

“Feeling better?” Jeff asked as they started up the trail.

“Yeah.”

Harry and Quinn had skipped the group dinner last night, opting for some takeout by the pool before retreating to their room where they alternated between talking, kissing, and making love throughout the night, eventually falling asleep in each other's arms. It had been a tough day, but their honest conversations and quality time had helped soothe the wounds they’d suffered and Harry felt even better about their relationship in the light of the new day.

“Quinn’s OK, too?”

“Yeah, she’s better,” Harry said. “We talked it out, got to the root of what’s been bothering me.”

“I know it’s been tough for you, H, but it won’t be like this forever. You’ll get out there again and if you can’t, we’ll find something for you to do. That’s kind of my job.”

“Thanks. Quinn said the same thing.”

“You talked to Quinn about all this?”

“Yeah, after our argument yesterday.”

“Hmm.”

Harry stopped. “What’s that supposed to mean, Jeffrey?”

“I just never thought I’d see the day when you actually opened up to someone you’re seeing in a real, authentic way. She must be a keeper.”

“She is, and I’ve known that for a while now.”

It was Jeff’s turn to stop. “Should I start writing a speech?”

“No, Jeffrey. Don’t start writing now, but I’m just saying, yes you will one day need to write a speech. Stop looking at me like that.”

“I’m not looking at you in any way,” Jeff said. “I’m just happy for you. Happy that you’ve found someone that you care about, who loves you right back.”

“I mean, we’ve had our ups and downs, but it’s always come back to Quinn,” Harry said. “She’s given me more chances than she probably should and being with her makes me want to actually fight for what we have. And now just getting to be with her, with no distractions…it’s like I still love her even when she gets on my nerves or loses her cool. I feel like I finally have what you and Glenne have.”

“And it feels great, doesn’t it? Knowing that you have your person waiting for you at the end of the day.”

“Yeah. Best feeling in the world.”

“I thought you said that about performing,” Jeff teased.

“That was before I met Quinn.”

They kept the rest of their hike light and returned back to the house an hour later. Jeff headed to the bathroom to rinse off and Harry went to the kitchen, in search of some water. When he entered the room, he saw Quinn, drowsily making a cup of coffee while her toast was cooking.

“Where’d you run off to?” she asked, blinking the sleep from her eyes.

“Jeff and I thought we’d squeeze a hike in.”

“Oh, fun. Did you have a nice time?”

“Yeah, it was great.”

“I can make you some coffee and toast if you’d like.”

Harry cut across the room and pulled Quinn into him, slotting his mouth over hers and kissing her firmly. “Yeah, I’d like that a lot.”

“OK, great,” Quinn said, slightly dazed from the sudden show of affection. “Get cleaned up and we can eat by the pool.”

Quinn had to work, but with the team having a better handle on how to produce a remote show, she had more time to spend with Harry, making an effort to chat with him throughout the day and take a lunch break to relax with him. Harry in return, tried not to crowd Quinn when she was in the midst of meetings, finding ways to occupy himself until she was finished.

She made an early day of it, signing off hours earlier than she usually did in favor of lounging by the pool with Harry. They read their books and chatted and napped lazily, taking short breaks to cool off with a game of volleyball in the pool. They made dinner together, surprising Jeff and Glenne with the home cooked meal, and ended their night watching more Bravo on the couch. It was a great day, save for the nasty sunburn Harry acquired from their time outdoors.

“Is it bad that I like this?” he asked quietly as Quinn rubbed cooling aloe vera gel over his face and chest.

“Getting rubbed down by me?”

“I mean, yes, but no. Getting to spend time together like this. I know this is a terrible situation, but I’m happy that we’re taking this time together. Even if it’s had its tough moments.”

“I get what you mean,” Quinn said in response.

April slid into May and May turned into June, even though it was hard to tell the days apart. SNL had wrapped up its brief stint of remote shows in early May, so Quinn’s workload had cooled considerably, meaning she had plenty of time to laze around with Harry.

They were in their favorite lounge chairs, resting by the pool when he broke the news to her.

“I think I’m going to head home soon. To London.”

“Already?”

“It’s been three months. I’ve been looking into how to do it safely.”

“Oh.”

“I was wondering if you’d like to come with me.”

Quinn sat up. “Come with you to London?”

“Yes. I thought maybe we could get some of your stuff in New York, new clothes and other things you’d need and then fly out again. That way your stuff would be in London. You know, when you’re there with me. So you don’t always have to pack all of your stuff” Harry was trying to sound casual but the tremble of his voice gave him away.

“Are you trying to ask me to move in with you, Harry?”

“Maybe?” He looked up at her sheepishly.

“Wow.”

“I mean I know we talked about doing it in the future. But, I mean, we’ve basically been living together for the past three months. So why not keep on doing that, just actually in a house that’s ours.”

“I think you’re playing fast and loose with the word ‘ours.’”

“That’s just semantics. The point is you don’t have work for a couple of months, so now seems like a great time to try. But we don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Quinn mulled Harry’s words as he continued to talk. “I know we’ll have to reevaluate come fall depending on what we’re doing with work, but it could be fun for now.”

“Let’s do it,” Quinn said suddenly.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

***

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