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onyourhyuck · 11 months

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SHALALA. | L.TY

— Prologue: “Lay low lay low lay low, baby, keep it low-key.”

— Summary: Where you have to design an outfit for Lee Taeyong a famous fashion model but it leads to you both stripping off your clothes.

— Genre: Smut minors dni. SHALALA is such a bop. Model!taeyong. dom!taeyong. praising praising praising. sneaky link trope. Pussy eating. Overstimulation. Many orgasms. Almost caught (?) Makeout. Female fingering receiving.

— Notes: I love Shalala album so much.

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You’re a designer who’s now working with the most viral and talented fashion model Lee Taeyong.

It is truly an honour you stand in front of the most handsome man in the entire world you’ve laid your eyes upon. You feel almost self conscious about your eyes laying on him. It’s like you thought, you wonder if you even deserve to have such a good moment to watch him. To look at him.

But Taeyong was a friendly guy. He welcomed you. He heard good things about your work and he feels like it fits into the concept he puts out there. The most neo person to live. He bleeds neon green to you. He’s perfect for your work.

You smile. “It’s honestly my greatest accomplishment to have you model for my clothes.” Taeyong smiles back hearing you say this. Every designer tells him this; ‘it’s an honour. I am so glad you allowed me to design this for you.’ But your words seem to have a different meaning and tone to what he usually would hear from other brands.

You spoke with the most raw truth about your work. When Taeyong looks at the clothes you make, they tell a story, they tell a story about every single thought and aspect you make in your head while creating these beautiful things for people to wear.

Taeyong couldn’t wait to see what you will create for him. He can’t wait to see the story you will make for him to see and read. To tell the world and wear it on his sleeves.

“I look forward working with you, Y/n.”

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You’re sat down designing on the paper. The hardest part of being a fashion designer it’s that you have to sketch the idea. You have to brainstorm every part of your muscles to figure something unique, something worth making and trying out. You don’t want Taeyong to wear the most banally shaped and boring designs — because it’s not his concept firstly. Secondly you wish to catch the attention of the public and have people want to scream to wear what Taeyong will wear on that fashion walk.

You want people to look at a certain clothing and think: ‘Wait What! That looks like it’s made by Y/n.’ And you want to get the point across that you want to make your work the most outlandish and outstanding piece of clothing like it is an artwork that must be hung up in a museum somewhere.

This was your goal and you knew the moment you needed a model to do the right job it would have to be no one else but Lee Taeyong.

He has your vibe. He has style and the body you need. And most importantly he has the face and personality that fits right into your branding.

You sketch on the paper many designs various sizes and shapes; a shirt in a shape of a triangle? Pair of trousers with rectangle stitching ends? You did anything you found to be fitting. You let your mind run wild.

“Y/n what colour do you want the first stage outfit to be?” Your co-worker Johnny who worked for you for many of your fashion shows and such. He was another designer too, and without him you’d be a lost cause you thought.

You trail busy looking at the pieces of papers checking out the outfits you have sketched. He was behind you holding many blocks of colours and he saw you were too far looking at the papers than at him. “Hmm…I have a vision… but I can’t seem to see it clearly.” Johnny hears you say that with a sigh.

His eyebrows rise up on his face. “How come? What’s your vision.”

You hum putting the papers down on the desk as your chair turns around. You’re now facing Johnny. “I want the audience to go wild when they see someone like Taeyong; I mean he’s handsome. He has a face that anyone would want. I want his clothes to equal that.” Someone with Taeyong’s face would want to be shown off.

Johnny can understand that your points coming cross may be from your stress and overthinking though you have a point, when he looks at Taeyong he imagines something weird. He wants a weird outfit.

“I think we should make something weird. Something out of the norm-you’d-usually go in the direction of.”

You squint your eyes as you hear this. The sudden wave of realisation puts you into a trapping reality like you were dreaming out of nowhere so you’re now going to be through a lane of ideas trafficking at your fingertips. You turn around quickly, “You’re a genius Johnny…” Johnny had no idea what you were now drawing. But it seems like he made you tick in a different direction now. As per usual his guidance always makes you bring out the best ideas out of yourself.

In a few minutes you’ve drawn the perfect picture of what your vision actually was. Johnny was brought in closer to the desk next to you leaning down with one arm stretching out to hold the table. He looks proud. He looks satisfied and it’s a lot better than what he expected from you. You smirk looking at the design of what you will be making Taeyong wear; on his first stage fashion walk. You can’t wait but you can already imagine that he will look so good, that he will have no choice but to take people’s breathes away and leave them unable to look away from him. As if he was a siren possessing anyone in his reach.

“It’s perfect.” Johnny told you satisfied.

You grin. “He’s going to be the centre of everyone’s attention now.” You we’re sure of it. You were confident and you could already tell in the future it will be like that.

“What are you going to name it?” Johnny now said asking you and you raise an eyebrow humming.

Your eyes sparkle when you click your fingers in the air as if you finally found the perfect title to name this outfit design you have created.

Something weird for something weird to wear.

“I am going to name it,”

“Shalala.”

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Taeyong would be in the fitting rooms awaiting for your arrival. It was early morning and he was surprised to have been called in so early. You had a great chance to be making many finalists decisions for the cat walk designs but it seems like you had made something so special that you told him to come to your studio this early in the morning. He was excited he won’t lie. Taeyong loves your work and he meant it when he told you he loved every single piece you have created from the beginning of your uprising career. There was never a moment where he disliked any piece of your work and he can proudly say this that he will not be left ashamed. He’s bewildered with anticipation.

He has no idea of what you will be showing him today; no idea what you have called it. No idea what it could be. He just knows you made something and he’s about to find out what.

He’s alone in your studio waiting until you come inside with a welcoming smile. The moment you strut forward to give him a greeting hug from you, in which he gladly accepts, the whiff of your sweet fruity perfume attacks his nostrils in the most pleasant way possible. You smell so good he couldn’t resist from wanting to smell more of it but he restrains himself. Surprised by your beautiful smile too, you pull away from him first.

Letting the hug go you beam happily. “It’s so good to see you again Taeyong. Did you get here safe?” You ask mentioning a polite voice. Taeyong was starstruck watching you. He wasn’t expecting you to be this happy to see him. But he was glad you were happy because your smile truly did something in his stomach. Something special.

“Yes I got here safe.” Taeyong smiles gently as he nods. “My managers are getting us coffee. I told them to get an americano for us both. I hope that’s okay?” He wasn’t sure what to give you because he wasn’t sure what you’d like or not so he got the same drink as what he would get hoping you wouldn’t mind.

You were surprised he was buying you coffee anyways; it’s your first time getting offered a cup of coffee from a model.

You smile at him, though your heart skipped a beat by his compassionate gesture. “Ah yes Americano is perfect thank you. You didn’t have to.”

‘Thank god. It would’ve been so awkward if she didn’t drink coffee…’ Taeyong trails to his own thoughts.

You now decide to trail to the fitting areas where the outfit you have created. You spent so many all-nighters making the design of the outfit you created with Johnny; secondly you would like to say it’s the most Neo-thing for someone like Taeyong to wear and at this point you know it’s good. Because Taeyong quite literally would bleed Neon Green if he had to. You know that his favourite colour is green so you cooperated that into the outfit.

The only thing you need to do now is to reveal it to him. Your heart’s chasing miles from what you wanted it to be. You were nervous and panicked. You were confident in the outfit but you care so much about Taeyong’s opinion too. He’s the one who will make it go viral. He’s the key and you’re nothing without his good impression on the outfit.

Taeyong’s eyes widen as he was met with your hands revealing the outfit. It was a simple puffer jacket with puffer pants. It gave this most comfortable down to earth look but at the same time it looks so stylish there wasn’t a single bland thing about it even though it was just a puffer jacket and a pair of pants puffer out in the same material. He feels like this was the most beautiful piece of thing he’s seen made perfectly adjusted to his needs; he won’t be cold wearing this that’s for sure. He will be able to walk around and do all the poses models do on the cat walk. The material is soft and fun. It wasn’t boring which is what he finds amazing about this whole thing. You managed to turn something so simple — into something so unique and weird. Which is what he loves so much.

He knew you wouldn’t disappoint him.

“I am now introducing you to: Shalala.”

The jacket was a bright green; vibrant as heck it could blind everyone’s eyes from countries away. Your designs on the jacket was black squares similar to checkers making it compliment the bright distracting green. The black squares made the jacket somehow more tame. Which is what Taeyong found to be the most important part. Balance.

Your work has the perfect balance that many brands should learn from you. Taeyong sticks by these words. Famous Brands should learn from you.

The pants were wide and flown out. Taeyong saw the way the pants were following the black and green patterns now like it was an illusion. He was impressed, mind blown in a way.

He looks back at you with his mouth wide open. “I love this Y/n. Truthfully it’s nothing else I’ve ever seen before but I love that about your work.” He states with genuine emotions.

You smile. He likes it and that’s what matters to you the most. “I’m glad you like it. Honestly I tried to think about your style in general… you have a unique style and I like that.” You softly add. “I wanted you to wear something you’d want to wear.”

“No one else has done that for me.” Taeyong reveals as his eyes were glued on your face now as if they were unable to let go off you in the sight. You turn around with your eyes widen as you saw how intensely he’s been watching you. Somehow your heart starts to beat even more.

‘Why am I feeling so nervous suddenly?…’

Taeyong comes forward watching you as his hands slowly lift themselves to feel the hem of your shirt attaching on your body so nicely. His fingers wrap themselves around your perfectly shaped waist and his gaze lows down to your kissable lips. Somehow he always knew you were attractive but seeing you more and more. Working with you was a pleasure he enjoyed the most. You’re the first designer to make him feel this way. You catch his breath to become hitch.

You knew you shouldn’t be this close to Taeyong. You know how much this can become a scandal if anyone saw you how close he’s closing into your body the gap between you both shrinks and now you could feel his chest pressing on your body with the same amount of intensity your heart was pumping out of your chest. Your eye could pop out their sockets. It definitely feels like it.

You whisper. “Taeyong…we can’t be doing this.” He knew you were right but, the moment feels too good to stop and he can’t help but want more. More of you. More than anything else he’d ever want before. “Shh…” he tells you slowly.

His deep voice was so powerful yet so low and deep you couldn’t help but think perhaps you’re addicted to hearing his deep voice speaking like this to you. And now you don’t want him to stop when he was looking at you with so much emotion.

“Lay low lay low lay low, baby, keep it low-key…”

Your lips crash into his passionately moving in each others shapes. The kiss leaves you feeling more and more detached from reality than before and you never thought getting kissed by the famous Lee Taeyong would make your skin crawl with so many compliments towards him. He was not only so handsome and talented — but he can kiss so good. You never expected to have been able to see this for yourself. To have yourself experiencing such pleasure given to you by Taeyong. The man drags you on top of a desk. The outfit you created was put on the side out of your minds.

What was important now to him was you getting pinned by his tongue in your mouth dominating yours with so much ease it was like an easy game for him. You weren’t sure if this was reality. Or if this was virtuality.

Hearing your moans escaping out when Taeyong pulls apart from your ruby red lips that he could kiss on and on without a singular boredom irking him. Now your neck was begging to be kissed, held, loved and marked by him so much he couldn’t help but launch down to your soft skin. Biting on it carefully leaving beautiful marks behold like you were rewarded.

You shift on the table with your thighs trembling. The way your neck was your most sensitive part; Taeyong was in awe at the effects it gave you.

It made your tremble already and he hasn’t even gotten to the part where he fucks you.

Your eyes were dilated so much. Taeyong could stare at your pupils for hours on end. The way your Iris pupils reflect the light so beautifully proved that you’re light itself.

“Oh god… Taeyong…” you groan when your shirt was pulled off by the model stripping you clean. You couldn’t help but join in pulling his expensive branded clothes. Though you were careful not to rip it. You both succeeded in getting yourselves naked in their arms as Taeyong’s mouth lap on your breasts. Hands condoling your chest with a light squeeze there and then.

The tongue playing by your nipples finding your head hanging back as your shoulders clench up tensing together. Your stomach pressing inwards at your pelvis because of how good it feels to have his warm saliva paint your breasts with it. Like he was a painter and you were his one true canvas masterpiece.

“You like that, Y/n?” Taeyong murmurs against your beautiful breasts he finds them to be the most attractive part of you but he would lie if you weren’t completely attractive head to toe. Because you are. You’re someone who has it all.

And he wants all of you. He strives to be better for you all along.

You nod softly in his response unable to find your words to answer him back but nonetheless he didn’t mind. He prepares you by stretching your wet folds with his two fingertips. You gasp when you feel him watching you, no, he was staring at you as your clenching round his two fingers tightly. Each meaningful movement as stretching you so far you could feel your tongue coming out with your moans. He loves watching you become a mess, from such simple touches, he loves the effect you give out.

You muffle your moans with your palm as Taeyong stops pulling away he leans down to give a soft kitten lick on your clit that makes your hand slide off your face. It was nearly impossible to be quiet when you were getting devoured head on by Taeyong. His hands stretching out your thighs. You feel them greatly and sharply pushing you down and down which only makes your pleasure stronger than your muscles could take.

You couldn’t even tell where you were anymore because you were so lost in the moment feeling your high coming closer that both you and Taeyong couldn’t hear the front door knocking. The voices behind the door belong to the managers, indicating they came back with the coffee they had been waiting to get for the two of you — Taeyong doesn’t stop eating you out as if he was starved unable to get any self control back.

So now you’re on the desk with your thighs spread wide over getting yourself eaten out by your model. And you try not to make any loud sounds that can get you two caught. Somehow his gaze was watching you as the managers call out your name on the other side of the door, while they keep knocking.

“Miss Y/n? May we come in?” The manager asked finding the silence quite hard to ignore.

You juggle your own moans and your voice trying to separate them. You deeply breathe out and your voice is very muffled and strained by your lacking sinful thoughts of how good Taeyong’s mouth on your wet soaking pussy is. “N-no! Me and Taeyong are doing something— v-very important right now…!”

The managers stood there quiet reacting to your response. Maybe they should leave you two alone to discuss your work process?

The snapping motion of your stomach finally lets go and your pussy juice spews down from your aching wet hole into Taeyong’s mouth who didn’t waste a single drop. He darkly muffled. “That’s it… such a good girl…” he whispers keenly against your folds and you shudder at how hot he absolutely sounds. It’s so difficult to not be moaning out his name; heck you’d chant it not moan it loudly. You’d be chanting it as if it was a holy hymn meant to be sang to the world how good he ate you out.

You whimper. “G-gosh I can’t do this anymore Tae…” You say as your fingers fiddle in his hair and he murmurs softly kissing your overstimulated pussy humming. “Just a little bit more hm?”

You can’t say no when he’s so persuasive with the way his voice has his power over you. Taeyong knew you cannot reject him when he’s having so much fun controlling you right now.

“Miss Y/n but the coffee is getting cold? Will you and Taeyong be okay with that?” The managers come back asking as if they were worried more about the coffee meanwhile Taeyong was busy trying to destroy you from inside and out.

He’s loving this fucked out version of you so much, it’s impossible not to fall in love with you.

You wanted to tell the managers to already go away and do something with their life than to disrupt your time together, but then again, deep inside the idea of getting caught makes this even more thrill seeking to you in your opinion.

You muffle your groans out. “T-that’s fine— leave the coffee outside the door…!”

Taeyong smirks as he finally sees you getting closer to your second orgasm and this time you didn’t bother to hold back you simply let it run over you taking your first hand pushing it down to his head grinding his face on it. He loves it when you start to fidget with yourself and force yourself on his face — you love face fucking him when your orgasm was reaching its peak washing you both down with your juices spilling down your thighs and on the desk now. Your moans was incredibly strong that Taeyong had to reach up putting his hand on your mouth covered by your own lubricant from your orgasm, so your moans don’t come out.

Your eyes roll back slightly as you feel your orgasm washing away and soon Taeyong let’s your mouth become free from his mouth as he deeply kisses you. You feel your stomach panting in and out.

He whispers leaning down. “I like the name by the way.”

You raise your eyes up at him dazed and confused. “What name?”

He smirks. “Shalala.” Taeyong’s eyes never leave yours because he finds them to be the prettiest little orbs of life he ever dreamed to see. “I like it, Y/n.” You couldn’t help but smile in response, overwhelmed with pride and joy to know he likes it.

“I am glad…”

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@onyourhyuck please refer from translating and copyrighting my work thank youu! Reblog this fic and follow me for more updates it helps a girl out. <3

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netherfeildren · 11 months

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Someone's Wife in the Boat of Someone's Husband .3

Series Masterlist : Moodboard

(Joel Miller x F!Reader)

Content Warnings: Premature ejaculation 🤭; Thigh riding; Age gap; Angst

Rating: Explicit 18+

A/N: Chapter’s up early this week as I’ll be away this weekend :) Happy reading!

Word Count: 5.4K

Read on AO3

We tell ourselves stories in order to live.

Joan Didion, The White Album

He should stop staring. He’s going to freak you out. He’s aware of this…kind of. Actually, he’s not entirely sure he’s aware of anything right now – thinks that all the blood in his entire body might be concentrated at his dick at the sight of your bare, wet skin in the tiny, red bikini you have on.

He’s worried he might be on the verge of a heart attack or something – something equally life threatening. After all, he is forty now, and forty year old men are very at risk for those kinds of things, or so he’s heard. This is almost targeted of you, if he really thinks about it. Why would you do this to him? Why are you trying to give him a heart attack? He doesn’t think he’s done anything to deserve this kind of punishment.

Joel knows he’s being obvious, that if he doesn't look away soon someone’s going to notice, but the day is hazy with bright heat and humidity, and he’s not in his right mind at the moment. Tommy’s already nudged him twice. But he thinks he’ll probably have to be dragged away kicking and screaming if someone wants to get him stop looking at you because Jesus fucking Christ.

You’re playing in the water with Gerri and Sarah and Andrea’s girlfriend. Andrea’s laying out on a towel at the water’s edge, and his brother is right next to him, and his wife is… somewhere, he doesn’t know where, but anyone could notice, and for fuck’s sake his daughter is right there. He should not, should not, be sporting an erection at the sight of you right now. This is the most inappropriate time in all history to be turned on. He shifts on his heels, trying to adjust his hard cock as subtly as possible by tugging on the waist of his belt, but he hears Tommy snort beside him.

“Shut the fuck up,” Joel says under his breath.

“You’re so fucked, man.” He claps him roughly on the shoulder and goes to join the girls.

Joel knows. He’s fucking aware. He’s fucked. He doesn’t think there’s anything he can do about it anymore. He knew the moment he ran back to his room last night to frantically jerk off in the restroom after your conversation. He’s extremely fucked.

But all he can think about right now is that he would like to smell your hair, he would like to taste your skin again.

Every time you jump or laugh or splash water at the girls, your tits bounce in the confines of that tiny, little bikini, and he’s left over here almost panting. He’s officially become the perverted old man ogling the twenty-something-year-old girl in her bathing suit. He can’t find it in himself to give a fuck, much less to stop.

You are, undoubtedly, the most gorgeous thing he’s ever laid eyes on in his entire life.

You bend down to listen closely at something Sarah’s saying to you, and the look in your eyes is so bright, filled with laughter and the most focused attention he’s seen his daughter receive in such a long time, that his throat goes tight and pinched for a second.

You tilt your head, and the thick mantle of your hair slides over the slope of your bare shoulder, leaving it exposed. It’s a beautiful shoulder. He wants to lay a kiss on it, bite the edge of your clavicle, leave himself imprinted on your skin.

Sarah’s chattering on and on, and as you throw your head back to laugh at something she says, the loveliest sound he’s ever heard, your eyes suddenly meet his, take in, what’s probably, his glowering stare. He doesn’t look away, he can’t. He doesn’t care anymore. He wants you to see him staring at you. He expects you to look away, to be angry or call him out for ogling you, to storm off.

You do none of those things. He watches a swallow pass through your throat, your wide eyes on him. His dick gets harder, if possible. You’re looking back at him. You’re looking back at him.

He wants you so badly.

Your eyes flit back to Sarah, you smile again at something she says and pass a hand over her wet hair, nodding, but then your eyes come back to him. They’re almost smoldering in the sunlight, the heat in them calling to the heat he feels rising in his blood. His temples throb in tandem with his heart, he can feel his pulse in his entire body, and he thinks you might read the intensity in his gaze, in his countenance, because your eyes flutter shut, and he watches a shiver move through your body. You turn to say something to Gerri, and then you’re moving towards the bank and out of the water, gathering your towel and things. The cut of your bathing suit bites into the soft flesh of your ass when you bend for your things, and he takes a step forward. Gerri and Tommy have taken over playing with Sarah now, the two of you forgotten. You start to walk towards the house, and he’s going to follow you. He knows he is. He watches you make your way up the path, reach the sliding glass door, step into the shadowed interior. He waits a beat, another, another. He can’t help himself. He has to go after you. He has to find out if you want him to follow you.

He thinks you do. And then he’s moving. Following your path up the stone steps to the house, and slipping through the door into the dark interior. His gaze moves to the window towards where the cars are parked, Eva’s SUV is gone. Of course she’s left without saying a word, without telling Sarah where she was going. He doesn’t care about that right now. He moves towards the back of the house and your room, pauses once he’s outside your bedroom door, fingertips resting on the handle.

He doesn’t think he’s ever wanted anything more, in the entirety of his life, than he wants to step through this door right now. It is a physical ache inside of him.

And he thinks that if he doesn’t do this, he might die.

His fingers press down on the handle, and he slips inside without knocking. You’d left the door unlocked.

The room is shadowed when he steps inside. You’re on the other side of the bed, and he’s caught you just as you’re slipping a dress over your head — catches the peek of baby blue lace wrapped around your hips as the dress flutters down around your thighs. You jolt a little at the snick of the door and the click of the lock as he turns it behind him. He presses back against the door and lets his head thump against the wood as you turn to face him.

Your dress is white, with a soft lace edge at the vee of the collar. He can catch the slight gleam of the water’s moisture still clinging to your limbs, even in the dim light of your bedroom. You’re not saying anything – he doesn’t think there’s anything that could or needs to be said in this space. The two of you have been expecting this, he thinks. It tastes of inevitability, of necessity. This was going to happen because it must happen, because it was always going to happen.

You press back against the wall, mirroring his own stance, but he sees your fingers are knotted in the hem of your dress at your sides. It looks a little like you’re restraining yourself, like you’re holding on for dear life, and that fills him with the deepest sense of satisfaction – the idea that you too feel this desperate need to hold yourself back from this thing that you have to have … yeah.

The two of you study each other for a second. He watches the slow rove of your eyes down his form – he hopes you like what you see, feels a small pinch of self consciousness in the space behind his ribs, too old, too weathered, but when your eyes come back up to meet his they flare bright with heat, and that’s it, he stalks towards you. He’s sure that the look in his own eyes must seem ready to devour because yours go all wide and doe-like, suddenly, a little like prey, and he knows he shouldn’t like that as much as he does, but the idea of you succumbing to him makes him harder than he’s ever been.

You put a small palm up just as he’s about to reach you, holding it at the level of your belly, and just with that, he stops immediately. He watches the quick rise and fall of your chest, the slight quiver of the tops of your breasts peeking out above the white lace. He’s going to get his mouth on all that soft flesh, in just a second, and bite it. You take a slow deep breath, and then you lower that staying palm, and he’s on you. Big hand wrapping entirely around the delicate architecture of your jaw so that he can tilt your face up to his, other hand wrapping entirely around the back of your head. The small bowl of your skull fits entirely in his palm.

He’s touching you, he’s touching you, he’s touching you.

He looks at you through his lowered lashes as he brings his mouth down on yours, and when he finally reaches you, when he finally feels the soft press of your lips against his, hears the tiny sound of your gasp as the two of you make that contact, he keeps his eyes slightly open. He needs to see this, he needs to bear witness to this moment, with eyes open. He thinks he hears himself let out a choked, almost pained sound.

He has to hear the sound you make when you come for him.

He holds you there for one second, and then opens his mouth to slot your full upper lip between both of his and sucks on the soft flesh gently. You moan for him at that, the sweetest fucking sound he’s ever heard in his entire life, and your mouth falls open, and then he’s licking inside of you, tasting the inside of your mouth, dragging his tongue behind your top teeth and angling your head back further to deepen the kiss, to devour you more fully. He steps closer, presses his front along the entire length of yours so your chests are smushed together, your tits pressed up against his hardness. Fuck, he thinks he goes slightly dizzy at the feel of you, at the sound of your next moan, wanton and ragged and all for him. You smell so good, like coconuts and suntan lotion and the midday heat.

Your hands come up to clutch at his hair, and the feel of your hands on him has the feeble thread of his control snapping completely. He feels a deep growl reverberate in his chest, and he slides his hand down the back of your neck and spine to wrap around your waist and hoist you up higher. You mewl for him, little fingers twisting and pulling at his hair. He slides his hand lower, clutches a handful of your lush ass to pull your pelvis into him, and he feels your thigh hitch against his hip as the two of you devour each other. Again, his hand slides down to wrap around the back of your leg while he eats at your mouth. He doesnt think either of you have taken a single breath since you first touched. His fingers dig harshly into your thigh, and he hitches it higher up against his hip, rolls the length of his cock against your soft center. Your head falls back at that and you moan, soft and drawn out for him.

“Joel,” you gasp, “Joel, I don’t – I don’t – please, please–”

“I know, I know, baby. Fuck–” He wants this so fucking badly. He rolls the hot furl of your pussy onto his hard length, practically fucking you through your clothes. He can feel the searing heat of your core through his denim, and he licks a long, wet swipe up the delicate column of your throat, tilts your head back further with his uncompromising fingers wrapped around your jaw to get at the soft spot behind your ear. He has you caught and pinned here between the wall and his body like a butterfly, clutched in the grasp of his fingers – he does not plan to let you go. He slides his hand back up further to grip your ass. He can feel that the cut of your panties is high across your ass cheek, and he slips the tips of his fingers beneath the lace edge as he shifts so that he’s sliding his thigh between your legs and pressing his cock into your hip, still licking and sucking on your neck.

“You’re gonna come on my thigh. Okay?” All you can give him is the warbled sound of his moaned name. He bends his head to bite sharply at your nipple over the soft material of your dress and you gasp, eyes flying open at that. “D’you hear me? You’re gonna ride my thigh ‘nd let me watch you come.”

“Yes – y– okay.”

He tightens his grip on your ass to slide you harder and faster against him. “Gonna hump my thigh, and let me watch that pussy get wet for me.”

“Oh, God. Joel–” Your eyes roll in your head, lashes fluttering at his words. He feels you bear down harder on his thigh, thinks he can almost feel the slick wetness of your cunt seeping through his jeans.

“You’re wet, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” you moan. You press your face to the space beneath his jaw, and he can hear the stuttered gasping sounds of your breaths, feels the hot slide of your tongue giving the edge of his jaw wet, little licks, and then the gentle bite of your teeth at his pulse. Fuck, he’s going to come. Now, he’s going to come right now.

He quickens the roll of your hips, slides his hand further beneath your panties, towards your center so that the tips of his fingers press over the cleft of your ass, applying pressure down towards your cunt, grinding your clit into his hard muscle, and you give a sharp gasp and shiver at that, press your face tighter to his neck. He feels a full body jolt snap through your spine and limbs, and he can feel the fucking slick wet of your pussy smearing against his finger tips. He presses his cock as tightly as he can into your hip and comes in his jeans, like a goddamn teenager.

“Shit– shit, I– I–” He clutches at you more tightly at the same time that you wrap your arms fully around his neck, and it’s almost like you’re trying to climb him. Your entire frame trembles and shakes with the aftermath of your orgasm, your gasping sobs right at the shell of his ear.

“That was so–” you breath, press a tiny kiss to his earlobe that has him growling, at risk of getting hard again already, “That was so – I don’t–” your voice cracks.

“It’s okay,” he shushes, passes a palm over the back of your head and down to tangle in the ends of your hair. He grips the long strands and turns his head to bring them up to his nose and breathe in deeply. “It’s okay, you’re okay, baby.”

“Joel–” you gasp. He hates the way you say his name. It sounds too lovely – like the worst thing that’s ever happened to him “We shouldn’t–”

“Please, don’t say it yet,” he begs. “It’s okay… stop your trembling, sweetheart,” he soothes you. Your panting starts to settle at his continued petting and cooing. He has you hoisted so high he’s practically carrying you, one leg wrapped around his waist and the other dangling over the thick expanse of his thigh so that he can feel the soaking wet apex of your cunt at his belly. He hopes there’s a wet spot on his shirt.

“It’s alright,” he says again and presses a long kiss to the hinge of your jaw, continues to stroke his hand from the crown of your head down to the base of your spine and back up, again and again, another kiss to the swell of your breast. “It’s okay, don’t get scared. It’ll all be fine,” he says, trying to keep you calm. He doesn’t want you getting worried or anxious. He’d never let anything bad happen to you. Even now, he knows this already.

You pull back to look at him then, your big eyes wide and wet, long lashes clumped together. Your mouth is kiss swollen, and there’s a slight flush to your chin from his beard, a bright gleam in your eyes from your orgasm, messy hair. He made you look like this, debauched and just fucked. He wonders what he could make you look like if he actually fucked you for real, if he wedged his cock inside that tight cunt and made you come around him.

The two of you stare at each other for a moment – he loves the feel of you in his arms. The look in your eyes is almost shocked, but he leans forward slowly to press his lips to yours again, and you allow it. A soft noise hums out of you as your eyes flutter shut, and you let your neck fall back to open yourself to him. He kisses you slowly this time, licking languorous and deep into your mouth, savoring the sweet taste of you so that he might imprint it in his mind for later consideration. You taste so fucking good. You’re so soft, so pretty, smell so good. He wants to keep you forever.

He gives you one more small kiss before slowly pulling back to set you down. Your bare feet touch the floor, and he cups the bends of your elbows to make sure you’re steady when he hears someone pass by on the other side of the closed door. He thinks it might be Gerri’s sister, calling her name, and you freeze at the sound, at the reminder of the others, as the reality of what the two of you have just done sets in.

Your eyes go wide, and you bring your hands up to cup your cheeks on either side of your face, your pinky fingers slotting over your mouth and pressing into your plush lips.

“Oh, God–” you whisper, your eyes flutter closed, shuttering your horrified look away from him. “Oh, God. We – we shouldn’t have done that, Joel. That– we’re so–” You’re shivering now, and he moves to wrap his arms around you again, but you turn away from him quickly, spinning to face the wall and hug your arms across your chest to wrap over your shoulders. We shouldn’t have done that, we shouldn’t have done that, you whisper over and over.

He places a palm on either side of your head, caging you between his arms and bends to press his mouth to your ear, you whimper, and he’s pretty sure it’s unconsciously, but you shift back slightly, pressing your back further into his chest. “Listen to me,” he whispers into your ear, your breathing is quick and overwhelmed, “Listen to me, you have nothing to worry or feel bad about, do you understand me? This was on me. I don’t want you anxious. I don’t want you feeling bad. This was all my fault.”

You shake your head, but he presses on. “Don’t say no, don’t disagree with me. Let this be what I say. It was my fault. Please, baby, I don’t want you upset about this, okay?” The thought of you worrying or feeling guilty about something that he’d come here looking for feels like a spear through the heart. He can’t bear it.

A voice sounds in the hall again, and you jolt, skittish as a rabbit. He passes a soothing hand over the crown of your head again, and you turn your head slightly to look at him out of the corner of your eye, give him a small nod. “Can we talk later?”

“Y– yes, okay,” you stutter. He presses another kiss to the edge of your jaw, can’t help himself, and you turn your head more, like you also can’t help yourself, to give him your mouth. He kisses you, full and slow, just one more time.

“Do you need anything? Can I get you somethin’?”

“No – I’m okay,” you say, turning back to face him. “I’m just going to–” you reach beneath your dress to pull your soaked panties down your legs. You grip the swell of his bicep to step one foot out of them and bring your other foot up to catch the dangling fabric from around your ankle. “Sorry–” you give him a shy look as your eyes meet his, and his mouth goes dry. He’s already fully hard again in the uncomfortably wet confines of his jeans. He needs to get out of these things, the cold, soaked fabric chafing against his overly sensitive skin.

He nods, swallows, “We’ll talk later–” you nod also as you move towards the en suite. Depositing your ruined panties on the corner of the bed as you walk by, and as you turn to go into the restroom, and he moves towards the door to leave, he picks up the discarded, wet lace and pockets it.

It’s his now.

You brace yourself over the bathroom sink and stare at your face in the mirror. You’re not crying and it surprises you. The one thing you could always count on yourself for, was the promise of your readily available tears, at all times. Your mother liked to call you a weeper in a long line of weepers, and it was true. As much as you hated it, it was true. It has always been extremely easy to make you cry. If you were happy, angry, frustrated, anxious – anything. Your tears were a steady monument of your character, always, and it was tiresome and embarrassing and unavoidable.

But you’re not crying now. As you take in the bright, feverish look on your face, your swollen mouth and just fucked hair – no matter that he hadn’t actually fucked you – you look like he had. There’s a mark from his beard burn on your chin, and you can see the angry marks around your jaw and throat from where he’d gripped you so hard, starting to settle in. The sight makes your dripping sex clench for more. You want more, and you think that there is a large part of you that feels his call like violence, and maybe you’ll try to say no next time, but you will likely not succeed. And that part of you also whispers that as much as you want to lie to yourself and say that this is wrong, that it goes against everything you’ve always been terrified of all your life, that it’s like everything your mother was – it’s also not. And, even more concerning, you don’t care nearly as much as you’d expected yourself to. And you also want to do all that and more with him, again and again and again.

And as you take in your reflection in the mirror, you think that you’ve never looked more like your mother than you do in this moment.

The only good thing about the situation you now find yourself in, wet panties, still, hours later, even after having put on new ones, and a tight and achey stirring low in your belly, your breasts heavy and sensitive – fuck, you’re a mess – is that you’d all be heading home in a few hours. You need to get away from him, immediately. You feel like a rabbit on the verge of flight, a savage and hungry predator fast on your heels.

“What is that? Are those bruises?” Gerri says suddenly, from her spot across from you at the table.

“What? No – where?” Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Just there… on your jaw?” She sets her fork down and reaches for you, gently brushes her fingers along the place where you know his marks lie against your skin. You didn’t think they’d become so noticeable so soon – it’s only been a few hours. “What are those?” she insists, “They look like finger marks–”

“Oh, I’m not sure… I hadn’t noticed. Maybe from when we were playing in the water. I don’t know,” you stutter out, rushed and panicked.

“Gosh, honey,” she tilts your chin to the side. “They look like they’re going to bruise. Don’t they hurt?” Joel and his wife choose that exact moment to walk in, Sarah bursting in after them.

“What’s happening?” Eva asks.

“Think we were too rough with her,” Gerri says, and you hear Joel splutter, “In the water. She’s got a bruise on her jaw.”

Eva approaches and she hums low in her throat, “Look at that…” she says, “They look a bit like finger marks don’t they, Joel?”

“Can I get you anything? Ice or something?” he says as he lifts Sarah up into his arms.

“No, I’m okay. I hadn’t even noticed them… really guys. I’m alright.”

“Maybe you should get some ice on them,” Gerri says, concern in her eyes. “We shouldn’t’ve been playing so rough, honey. I’m sorry about that.”

You can’t help but shoot an anxious look at Joel, you’re sure you’re wearing your guilt like a blaring sign on your face. “You know, maybe I will get some ice.” You move to stand, and you see Joel step closer to you out of the corner of your eye, but he stops himself as you turn to flee into the kitchen.

As you walk down the hall, back towards your bedroom, a hand shoots out of one of the doorways and yanks you inside a dark room.

“Joel– someone’s going to see us,” you gasp. He turns you towards him, gently tilts your head back, his fingers whisper soft on your jaw. He clicks his tongue, his brow pulled down into a frustrated frown. The weak afternoon light trickles in through the curtains, and all you can take in are the shadows of his face, his features washed in the blue hue of the drapery. His strong brow, pulled low, his mouth, soft, enticing – dangerous. It’s a little like he’d been sculpted by someone who’d peered into your mind when you were being created, pieced together in the image of everything that could ever tempt you into weakness. “Was too rough with you, sweetheart. I’m sorry.” With your head still angled back he bends to press the softest of kisses to the sore skin, then runs his nose along the edge of your jaw to breathe you in. You can’t help your fingers from digging into his forearms, trying to pull yourself closer to him. The sensitive tips of your breasts brush against his hard chest, and a shiver wracks through you. You feel, suddenly, so cold, while he is so warm – the only source of warmth in the whole world, it seems like. You try and swallow the sound of his whimpered name that creeps up your throat, but it escapes anyways, warbled and pathetic.

“I know,” he whispers into your ear. And you think that he really, really might know. You think he does understand. Whatever it is that’s happening here is undoubtedly happening to the both of you, and the realization of that is both a comfort and a threat, all at the same time. At least you aren’t alone in this, at least he is here with you, but his co-conspiracy makes it all the more dangerous, seductive, damning.

You press yourself back, away from him. Wrapping your hands around the thick of his biceps to keep him held at bay. What a joke, you think, as if there’s anything you could actually do to restrain this man if he really set his mind to it. A butterfly attempting to subjugate a mountain. But he stills, lets you hold him where you like.

“We can’t do this.”

“It feels a little like it’s already done, doesn’t it?” he says gently. And you know he isn’t trying to hurt you, but his words still feel like a bolt of fire zinging through your bones because he’s right, it does. It feels done, set in stone, unchangeable. For how could you have been touched by him now, and never again experience it? You don’t think anyone in all the world would have the strength to stay away from something like this, no matter how hard they tried or how far they ran.

“You don’t understand–” and you think you sound like you’re begging, but you aren’t sure who it is you’re directing your supplication at, nor what it is that you’re pleading for.

“What is it that I don’t understand, sweet girl?”

Your eyes flutter shut, and you finally remember your promised admonishment from before, “Please, don’t call me that.”

He says your name softly – a terrible sound. “What don’t I understand?”

How to tell him, without spilling your blood at his feet? How to tell him that you had been put together wrong and disjointed and gnarled and that you’d been raised by people who weren’t right and who had, in turn, spawned you not right as well? There was no way to do so with your dignity intact and your shame still hidden. “I need… I need to protect myself,” you say slowly. “I– I’ve been hurt before. I–” This is a humiliating truth to confess. Your words are stuttered, your breath coming in anxious little huffs. He sweeps his thumb over the wing of your cheek, it’s alright, take your time, he whispers, and it makes you feel incredibly stupid and childish that his words settle the fluttering of your heart, just a little bit. “I am easily hurt,” you say, “And it’s always been– been difficult for me to talk about how I feel, and ask for the things I need, and that makes it easy for people to– to– I guess, be careless or take advantage of that part of me – even if it’s unknowingly or accidentally. And I think I just– I just wish that–” you have to look away from him, you can’t say all this while you’re looking at him. A frustrated sound claws out of you, “I don’t know… that someone would find me, someone that would be gentle, that they could just tell – just know that I need to be handled with care sometimes. And I know, I know it’s my own thing, my own issue, and that a person should be able to just ask for the things they need, set boundaries – that maybe I need to grow up or be stronger. I know it’s a lot to ask of someone else, or too much, but still – still I wish I didn’t have to ask. I wish someone would just know. I wish someone could know me well enough – so well – that they just knew what I needed without me having to ask for it.”

He’s quiet for a moment as he studies you, and then: “It’s not too much to ask.” He shakes his head as you start to object, to explain that you know it is, that you know you need to grow up, develop tougher skin, a stronger backbone. “It isn’t,” he says firmly.

His eyes are so deep and so warm – understanding. You can see that he understands you. “I’m asking you to not make me ask right now, Joel,” you say quietly. “We need to stay away from each other. You’re married and I can’t– I need to protect myself. I can’t do this with you, I cannot become someone who gets between a marriage.”

He wants to argue, to make you understand that there is no marriage, no relationship in the real sense of the word beyond a title, beyond a piece of paper, to get between. That what you and he have here, now, is greater, more meaningful, realer, than anything else he’s ever experienced in his entire life, even now, even this soon. He knows already, he can already feel it, but he can also see the devastation, the desperation in your eyes. And so he has no other choice but to give you this, to give you what you need. All he can do is swallow his protests, force himself to nod, and accept your rejection.

Chapter .4

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

#someone's fic #joel miller #the last of us #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller/reader #joel miller/you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller imagine #joel miller smut #joel miller angst #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #tlou fic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction

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foliosriot · 7 months

Text

Love’s The Death Of Peace Of Mind — Pt. 1

pairing: noah sebastian x reader

summary: you and your best friend, noah, messed around a few times. then bad omens releases their third album, and certain songs and lyrics hit a little too close to home.

warnings: none.

masterlist. tdopom masterlist.

You’d slept longer than you would have liked. Waking up at 11:30AM was completely unexpected, but you could care less, especially since you don’t have work today.

With a full-body stretch and dramatic yawn, you slide off your bed. You wobble on your feet for a moment, then find your balance to walk into the bathroom.

What the mirror shows you is awful: dark bags under your eyes, tangled hair, creases along your cheek from where you had been positioned against your pillows. Your reflection makes you cringe. But you don’t do anything to remedy your appearance as you do your business. (You do, at least, rake your fingers through your hair in an attempt at taming it.)

When you’re finished, you shamble back into your room and promptly flop down onto your bed. You’ve been working like crazy recently, so the exhaustion that has tightly gripped you is warranted. But you are not enjoying it, even if you’re the one that has been picking up extra shifts. This one is on you, not the universe.

You groan inwardly as you push yourself upward. You reach for your phone that’s plugged in on your nightstand, then shift into a sitting position against your headboard as you begin your morning social media routine.

Your Instagram is flooded with posts upon posts about Bad Omens’ new album. You immediately curse yourself for forgetting the album’s release date had been much sooner than you’d initially expected.

As you continue scrolling through your feed and swiping through stories, you keep seeing the same image. It was a woman, completely nude, hunched over on a bench of sorts. The red scenery was almost too much, but you couldn’t stop yourself from loving the album art choice. It was simple yet beautiful but eye-catching, and it stood out in a way you knew only Noah would have seen.

Oh god.

Noah.

Noah, your best friend, worked so fucking hard on this third LP. He is too much of a perfectionist to not get every little detail just right. You witnessed him do vocal takes over and over countless times. You saw him scrap samples that you had personally loved. The pride he’s feeling at the media’s response must be overwhelming for him, but in the best way possible. He deserves the recognition.

However, you know that the lead up to the release date had been memorable for both of you. Just not in the way of songwriting or mixing tracks.

It had started roughly a month after your ex broke up with you, about a year and a half ago. You were hanging out with Noah at your apartment, music playing from your speaker as you were drawing on your iPad and Noah was, undoubtedly, writing lyrics for a song he was working on.

He had been singing along to the song was that had been playing, his voice distracting you from whatever you had been doing. If you remember correctly, it was Science & Faith by The Script, a song you love dearly. And the way he had sang along — at first soft and quiet, almost absentmindedly, then using his entire chest like a live performance — captured your attention completely.

You’d watched him until the song ended, his gaze never leaving his journal. Then he was reaching out for his mug of tea and he caught your eye.

“What?” he’d asked.

A small smile. “Nothing,” you told him. “Just really love your voice.”

Noah had continued singing along to the songs that came on, and you just kept watching. The air became charged and vibrated with a tension you had never felt around Noah. But then that tension had snapped when your eyes had met, Give by Sleep Token wrapping around you both.

Suddenly your lips were on each other and previous tasks were forgotten. You had gladly let Noah have his way with you.

Afterwards, you agreed that such an intimate experience wouldn’t tarnish your friendship. And it didn’t! But then it happened again. And again. And again.

The last time you two had messed around was six months ago. Your constant texting and phone calls dwindled over those months, and you couldn’t bring yourself to do anything about it. And apparently, neither could Noah.

Something in your friendship had changed, but neither one of you had wanted to acknowledge it. You had simply decided that putting distance between each other would fix whatever happened. But it didn’t fix anything; it just made you miss and crave him more as the days went by.

You have wanted Noah more than anything for years. You had thought there was something between you, but had been ultimately proven wrong.

Shrugging off the memories, you close out of Instagram to open up Spotify, and you are immediately met with THE DEATH OF PEACE OF MIND. You nibble on your bottom lip for just a moment before you’re tapping play, keeping shuffle off.

As you listen to the album you remain sitting in bed. You can feel the energy and excitement that overtakes you as you’re enjoying CONCRETE JUNGLE, then going slack jawed by the sheer talent present in Nowhere To Go. The sudden melancholy and regret that you’re met with from Take Me First takes you by surprise, but you’re loving the lyrics too much to dwell on those feelings.

The fourth track is the album’s namesake: THE DEATH OF PEACE OF MIND. The instrumental intro is awfully beautiful, and you’re nearly taken aback when the first verse begins.

Noah’s voice is gorgeous. It is so soothing and comforting, and then you’re closing your eyes to take it all in. For a moment, you think you’re somewhere else.

Different bed sheets beneath you. Heat radiates from every pore of your body. The curtains are drawn together and the only lights are the strips of LED you’ve always found a bit tacky. There are familiar hands grasping at your thighs and hips, hot breath against your skin. Lips on your neck and teeth biting—

You’re in the walls that I made, with crosses and frames

Hanging upside down

For granted, in vain, I took everything

I ever cared about

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

Your eyes fling open. You had been taken back to a memory, one you fear may never leave your mind. The pre-chorus has your heart racing uncontrollably, and you’re frozen in place as you continue listening. You have no words. There’s a sliver of you that knows Noah wrote that about you. But you aren’t completely certain when the next song starts.

The way What It Cost bleeds into Like A Villain shakes you out of your frozen stupor. The transition is beautiful and you find yourself falling for the lyrics.

Then bad decisions catches you off guard. It’s mellow compared to the front of the album, and even the entirety of Bad Omens’ discography. Still undeniably beautiful, you think.

Just Pretend has you reeling. You knew Noah had written it a few years before but did not expect him to actually use it for any upcoming records. There are a few lines you remember him telling you about from way back when, and you smile small at their presence in the song.

The back of the album is just as perfect. You find yourself resisting the urge to jump along to the addictive nature of What do you want from me? and the sucker punch that is ARTIFICIAL SUICIDE. And then Miracle, the closing track, is simply perfect in every way possible.

When the music stops, you suddenly feel all weird on the inside. There’s an overhanging sense of emptiness, but the weirdness coiling into a knot in the pits of your stomach prevents that void from sinking in fully.

THE DEATH OF PEACE OF MIND is a phenomenal record, front to back. It is beautifully produced, the instrumentals and lyricism working together in a way you’ve never heard before. You have no qualms about making it your album of the year (at least until Motionless In White’s new record in a couple months, that is).

But the beauty of the songs and lyrics does nothing to calm your nerves. The boys had been working hard on every single detail when you and Noah had messed around that handful of times. There was no denying the obvious inspiration Noah had derived from you.

You sit in silence for several minutes, debating on what to do. You know you need to text your friends and tell them how proud of them you are. It takes a bit to finally scrounge up that courage, then you’re finally closing Spotify and going in to your messages to text Noah first. But your thumb is hovering above his contact, almost as if you can’t find it in yourself to simply congratulate your best friend on such a huge success.

It’s embarrassing, really. You can’t ignore your own selfish feelings to just admit you’re fucking proud of him? Because you should be proud of your best friend.

So instead of messaging Noah, you search for the rest of the bands’ contacts. Maybe, this way, you can actually convince yourself to eventually applaud him if you do the same to his fellow band members, your mutual friends, first.

You: CONGRATS ON THE NEW ALBUM!! It is so beautiful and I’m so fucking proud of you! Your drumming is insane and I can’t wait to hear you fuck it up live 🖤🤯 I LOVE YOU!!!!!

Fisherman Folio🎣🥁: THANK YOU! Your support over the years means everything to us, and I can’t believe you’ve been here since the beginning. I love you too!!

You: CONGRATS ON THE NEW ALBUM!! I’m so fucking proud of you guys and it is soooo beautiful! The bass lines are incredible 🖤🖤 I LOVE YOU!!!!!!!

Nicholas🐱🩶: Thank you so much!! I’m so happy with how it came out and I’m happy you like it! Your support means everything. Love you <3

You: CONGRATS ON THE NEW ALBUM!! You went all out on the production and I could not be prouder of this beautiful record! The guitars are amazing (especially in artificial suicide like wtf?????) 🖤🖤 I LOVE YOU!!!!!

Jolly🎸☀️: Thank you! We worked super hard on it and the feedback has been so positive. Thank you for being here from day one. If it weren’t for you and Vincent we would not be where we are. Love you!!

The guys’ messages all bring tears to your eyes, but Jolly’s is the one that has the dam breaking. You smile at your phone as tears streak down your cheeks. Your heart is aching with the urge to hug them all.

A couple minutes later, when the tears have subsided and you’re wiping away the last few stragglers, your phone buzzes. From where it’s laying face up beside you on your bed you can see that it’s another text from Jolly. Your eyebrows pinch slightly in confusion as you pick up your phone.

Jolly🎸☀️: You haven’t said anything to Noah yet, have you?

The singular sentence has you swearing softly then biting your tongue. Jolly is basically your big brother, and he didn’t have to say anything before you were telling him everything about what had happened between you and Noah. He cares about both you and Noah too much to see anything come between you two. Especially considering Noah has been your best friend since he met Nicholas, and thus met you.

But the text bubble seems to be glaring up at you as you stare down at it. It’s not quite a secret that you and Noah haven’t talked in a while, so it’s almost as if Jolly’s text is mocking you. You hardly even react when you see those three little dots pop up and bob as Jolly types.

You sigh through your teeth. You hesitantly begin typing out a response, watching the dots pause and disappear.

You: No not yet

Jolly🎸☀️: Why?

You: Idk, doesn’t feel like my place ig

Jolly🎸☀️: You’re kidding right? Noah has been asking me if I’ve heard from you, if you’ve even listened to the album. He wants your feedback and attention and it’s getting really fucking annoying hearing him be mopey. He wants to hear from you ok? So for my sanity I say you at least text him a quick congrats, maybe your favorite song while you’re at it…

You: Fine, now fuck off and enjoy your huge accomplishment

Jolly doesn’t reply; all he does is like your response in acknowledgement. Which leaves you anxious as you hold your phone limply in your hands.

You breathe deeply. The phone in your hands is practically screaming at you to talk to Noah, to just let him know you listened. And you’re not sure what finally gets you to swipe away from your conversation with Jolly and opening yours with Noah. But you’re already typing and hitting send before you can take it back.

You: Congrats on the album! You’re insanely talented and you should be so proud of yourself! I’m torn between TDOPOM and Miracle as my favorite song :)

You toss your phone to the side, like it’s a bomb that is about to detonate. Having it in your grasp felt too dangerous. Letting it sit a couple feet away from you made you feel a bit better, you suppose.

The phone is silent for awhile. You remain sitting in the spot on your bed, terror bubbling in your chest as you wait for a notification of any kind. But the screen remains dark, and you keep chewing anxiously on your lip and tongue.

Maybe fifteen minutes later, you’re about to give up on waiting for a reply. Noah’s phone is probably blowing up from people congratulating him and the band, so it doesn’t seem worth idling by.

Then your phone vibrates. The screen switches on, and your screensaver is lighting up the singular notification present.

You already know who it’s from.

With shaking fingers, you unlock your phone and open up your messages. There’s one new text. Then another comes in when you press the contact.

Noah: Your love and support means the fucking world. I’m glad you were able to find some favorites lol

Noah: Ok look, I’m sorry if this is crossing a line or whatever but I just wanted you to know that there are a few songs and lyrics about you, if you didn’t catch onto that already. I miss you x

thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed! likes and reblogs are very much appreciated <3

a/n: let me know if you want a pt 2!!

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian x reader #bad omens #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fic #the death of peace of mind #nick folio #nicholas ruffilo #jolly karlsson #alex’s writing! ❪ 𖤐 ❫#alex! ❪ 𖤐 ❫

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captainwans · 1 month

Text

NEW ERA! (smau)

— ALEX TURNER

arabella series!

masterlist!

pairing: alex turner x fem! actress! reader

summary: after the release of arctic monkeys new album, y/n’s comment section attracts new followers and attention.

layout inspo: @ithinkimokeei 🩶

timeline: 2013

Liked by officialelizabetholsen, chrishemsworth and others

yourinstagram italy has been treating me well! ✨🍃🌤️ 🇮🇹

ㅤ View all the comments

username something lgbt just happened to me

username y/n is so HOT 😩

username the album is out you know what that means 😏

yourinstagram i don’t 😅 what album?

yourbestfriend aww she’s so clueless it’s so cute 🤭

username i'm lesbian

username the most beautiful woman on the planet 🌎

username she’s so fine bro

username i love when y/n y/l/n

officialelizabetholson: my WIFE 💕💍

yourbestfriend you mean OUR wife

username lmao yourbestfriend

username so beautiful

username do you know alex turner?

username who else came after listening to arabella

username me!!!

username 👋🏼👋🏼👋🏼👋🏼

username moi 🙋🏽‍♀️🙋🏽‍♀️🙋🏽‍♀️

username username apparently the whole comment section

username 😍😍😍😍

username y/n have you listened to arctic monkeys new album?

katehudson how do you always manage to look so freaking good 😩 spare some beauty, mama!

yourinstagram katehudson you're the most prettiest woman i've ever laid eyes on ✋🏼💖

yourbestfriend you're such a cheater 😭😭

username yourbestfriend 😭😂

username pls i want their friendship

username what did you think about the song arabella?

username i’m so glad the arabella movie is getting the recognition it deserves!!! the song is sooo good too! 💗

username what’s your favorite arctic monkeys song? ❤️

yourinstagram it’s impossible for me to choose, but if i had to it’s definitely fluorescent adolescent or teddy picker 🧸

matthelders yourinstagram now that’s taste

ㅤ matthelders started following yourinstagram

ㅤ yourinstagram started following matthelders

username OMG MATT IS HERE

username drummer boy is here!!!

username i love how arctic monkeys fans have summoned in the comments after listening to arabella 😂

username and we are OBSESSED with her

username the song is playing on REPEAT!

username the movie wrecked me so hard i’ve been crying for days

username username same i still haven’t recovered from arabella she’s such a talented actress!! 💗

username manifesting that she’s gonna be in the arabella mv 🪄🧙🏻‍♀️

ㅤ liked by yourbestfriend

username marvel and arctic monkeys fans = what an unexpected duo

username username but so iconic tho right?

marvel real people listen to arctic monkeys 😌✨

ㅤ liked by 6,2k followers

ㅤ mileskane started following yourinstagram

ㅤ katiee_cook_ started following yourinstagram

ㅤ breanahelders started following yourinstagram

Liked by markruffalo, imsebastianstan and others

yourinstagram avengers….ASSEMBLE 🦸🏻‍♀️🤺

ㅤ View all the comments

username help why is chris holding scar like that

username hemsworth is a BEAST god damn 😩

username the reason why i’m alive

markruffalo miss you on set ❤️

yourinstagram coming back soon marko 😙

jeremyrenner yourinstagram how long is soon? yourbestfriend is having an episode again 🙄

yourbestfriend you're being very dramatic today renner

robertdowneyjr that was an episode? thought she was just being herself …

yourinstagram 😳

username the roast I CANNOT

username pls i would start crying

yourbestfriend you know what robertdowneyjr

tobertdowneyjr no i don’t know what

username bahahahaa downey

username this is so funny

username rdj is literally tony stark

mileskane you were KILLING it on the avengers love!! ❤️❤️

yourinstagram thank you!! 💕💕 mileskane

username miles my beloved <3

username and she knows miles too 😩 lucky

Liked by yourfriend, lilyjamesofficial and others

yourinstagram 🌸🍥

ㅤ View all the comments

username that cake looks sooo goood omg

username queen just posted 😩😩

breanahelders cutie!! 💗

ㅤ liked by yourinstagram

katiee_cook_ that cardigan is so gorg! where did you buy it? 🙈💕

yourinstagram i actually knit this myself! 🧶😆 i can send you the recipe in dms! 💕☺️

katiee_cook_ thank you, lovely! 😍

username why is she so cute 🥹

username now i want that cardigan

username katie and breana interaction- does this mean that y/n and alex are dating rn??

username username how? they haven’t even met..

username how do you know tho? 👀

username are we just gonna ignore 2005?

username username wdym?

username girl why are you clueless 😭

username if they’re dating then my life would be complete

yourbestfriend i baked that cake!! 🥰

ㅤ liked by yourinstagram

username can someone please explain 2005?

username somebody tag me on this i’m so invested

username same glad i’m not the only one who’s confused

username username username y’all must be new to the fandom lmao

username username y/n and alex go way back in 2005 and some people are saying that they first met in a pub in sheffield during that time she was filming (1)

username and some fans claim that y/n was the inspiration behind i bet you look good on the dance floor (2)

username ^^!! that is true he confirmed it during an interview

officialelizabetholsen yourbestfriend and it was so delicious!!! 😋🎂

yourbestfriend thank you lizzie!! 😙

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cowgurrrl · 3 months

Note

so, I know TONS of artists do these documentaries or whatever and some of them include intimate and personal moments of their lives. I'm just saying! if rockstar!joel had a little documentary made, I feel like there'd be moments/personal and intimate clips of him and actress!reader together, ones that play out while he talks about her during an interview clip or something and it's just SO 🥹🥹🥹 like he'd be so precious and sweet. i love them so much!!!

Okay wait I know I’ve doing little drabbles recently but this is deserving of its own fic 😭😭 thank you for the beautiful idea!

Pairing: rockstar!joel miller x actress!reader

Author's note: wait i really love how this turned out

Summary: The Millers: A Year in the Life [2.3k]

Warnings: discussions of the foster care system, marital bliss, emotions, I think that’s it?? This is literally just fluff

You didn't know what to expect when you agreed to have a documentary crew follow you around while Joel was working on his next album. You worried it would burst the little private bubble you've spent your career trying to maintain or bring unwanted attention to your family. It didn't do either of those things. If anything, it helped show the world how strong you are as a family unit. You just didn't realize how much they caught until you and your family attended the premiere to watch it in full for the first time.

The documentary opens with clips of Joel touring, playing loud music, and showing off his rockstar attitude for the cameras but quickly cuts to a quiet, sunny morning in your house. Joel is up and making coffee in the deserted kitchen, his hair a mess and his eyes bleary as he looks at the camera. "'S this the kinda excitin' thing you guys wanted?" He asks in a gravelly voice before laughing at his own joke. The camera follows him up the stairs and to the primary bedroom, where you're still sleeping. He carefully puts the coffee on your bedside table and sits on the edge of the bed, smoothing your hair out of your face. You groan and curl into his body subconsciously, and he smiles. "We're gonna have to leave soon, but I made you some coffee, and I'm gonna get the kids up so you can rest a little longer, alright?" He asks, and you nod, peeking your head up from under the covers to see the cameras. You have to laugh when you spot your own messy hair on screen.

"Oh, hello." You say to the cameraman before turning back to Joel. "Give me five minutes."

"You can have ten."

"I love you." You say as he leans down to kiss you.

"Love you, too." He says, lingering for a moment or two before getting up and padding down the hallway. They follow him until he asks them to wait in the hallway, not wanting to freak out the kids, and they oblige. His microphone picks up his gentle voice, rousing your teenagers awake.

"Honey, it's time to get up. We've gotta get ready for Sam's game." He says, and a grumpy shuffling can be heard.

"Can we get donuts?" Violet asks, barely audible, and Joel chuckles.

"Yeah, baby, we can get donuts. I just need ya to get movin' for me, alright?"

"Okay." She says. He repeats the process twice before it cuts to Joel wearing a baseball hat at the game, cheering Sam on despite the obvious fatigue in his eyes. There are little clips here and there of the game itself, but nothing super significant. It cuts again to Joel in his studio, getting mic'ed up for a solo interview, and there's a big smile on his face.

"D'you guys already talk to my wife?" He asks, and everyone in the room laughs. "I'm sure she had a lot to say." The way he says it isn't malicious. It's fond. Like he knows you so well, he doesn't even need confirmation that you talked a lot about him. Then, you're on screen in your office with all your awards and pictures of the kids on display behind you, half-directing the production team on the best way to use the space. You don't introduce yourself until everything is settled.

"I'm an actress, director, producer, mother, and Joel's wife." You say, smiling.

"What can you tell us about your relationship with Joel?" A producer asks, and you laugh.

"God, how much time do you have?" You ask. It cuts again to Joel, who laughs at the same question and starts spinning his wedding band on his finger.

"Should I start at the beginning'?" He asks.

"If that's what you want." As soon as the words are spoken, early pictures and videos of you and Joel start playing over the interview answers.

"We met through mutual friends a few years after I'd moved to LA, but we didn't start actually dating until about two months after we met." You say. It's not entirely wrong.

"I remember thinkin' she was beautiful, intelligent, and caring. I just wanted to be with her all the time." He says.

"We were both so busy and in the public eye that I almost didn't think it was gonna work out because we were always traveling for work or getting stuck in the studio or on set. The first test was when he went home to Texas with his daughters for about a month, and we had to find ways to keep in touch," you remember. "That's also the first time I realized I really, really liked him."

"Just like?" The producer asks, and you laugh.

"It wasn't love yet. Joel will be the first to tell you he fell first."

"Oh, yeah, it was stupid how in love with her I was," Joel's interview cuts in, and you each laugh at the editing. "I was ready to marry her after our third date."

"He said that?" You ask the producer and laugh when she nods.

"When did you know you wanted to marry him?"

"Oh, after I met Sarah and Ellie and saw how good of a dad he was. I mean, are you kidding? What’s not to love about that?"

"I don't wanna say too much 'cause it's not only my story to tell, but we were really young when we had Sarah," Joel's voice jumps back in with pictures of him with a baby Sarah. "I didn't know what our lives were gonna look like with just the two of us, and I was so scared that I was gonna fuck her up. She was so perfect and little and I... I wasn't. I was pretty much on my own until my brother got back from Desert Storm, and he moved in with us. Then, it felt like we were raisin' her and each other," he says. "Ellie was, somehow, a bigger surprise than Sarah was. She was in Sarah's school and havin' a hard time. She'd just gotten kicked out of another foster home, and I thought, 'Why doesn't she come stay with us?' I think I thought it would be a temporary thing, but she became a part of my heart. We always say she's not our daughter by blood but by soul, and then there was no way I could live without both my girls. So, we filled out the adoption paperwork and she became ours when she was twelve and Sarah was fourteen. So yeah, I was a single dad for a long time before I met my wife."

"I want to make it abundantly clear I wasn't scared of the girls. I was scared of ruining their lives by dating their father." You say, laughing at how crazy it sounds now. "I hadn't ever dated someone with kids before, so it was all new! But the girls were so kind and so wonderful. And I don't even know when it happened, but suddenly, I wasn't calling them Joel's girls. I was calling them the girls or our girls. The love was so organic it didn't phase anyone when I started claiming them, too. Granted, that wasn't until we'd been together for quite a while, but still."

"We met her… I wanna say it was a few months after they'd started dating," Sarah says, suddenly appearing on the screen. "She was really cool, and I remember telling Dad how much I liked her. She would come over and help with homework, and we'd do movie nights with all four of us. It felt like we were a family long before they got married."

"Oh, yeah. I mean, it's hard not to like her, y'know?" Ellie says. "Coming from foster care and everything, I remember being hesitant when she came into our lives just because I've had mother figures come in and out for a majority of my life, so I was kinda bracing myself for that. But she didn't do that. She stayed and made our lives better for it."

"She was never just some person our dad was dating or a stepmom. She was always Mom to us." Sarah says.

"Yeah, I don't think I've ever called her my stepmom," Ellie laughs. "There was a period of time before they got married where we called her by her name, and then by the time Sam came around, we were both calling her Mom because that's what she is. She's our mom."

"When we were gettin' married, we had friends in the industry tell us, 'y'know marriage is hard, but being married while all this is goin' on is so much harder.' And that was really scary. I'd been through a divorce before, and I didn't want to put either of us through that. Leading up to the wedding, we talked about everything. What we wanted, what we expected from each other, what we wanted our lives to look like, and she was so fuckin' patient with me. She always is. And the day of, y'know, five million things are going through my head, and I'm freakin' out, but when I saw her," Joel gets choked up and has to take a deep breath before he can continue. "That all went away. All I cared about was her."

"We got married in his parent's backyard with like thirty other people there. We didn't want a big wedding and all the drama that came with that. Literally, nobody knew about our wedding except the people who were invited and the photographer, and it was perfect. I would do it all over again if he asked me to."

"That's it? That's all the detail we get?" The producer asks playfully, obviously on the edge of her seat for more, and you nod.

"Yep." You smile. You go on to talk about the births of Sam and the twins and how that changed everything in your lives before the documentary returns to your day-to-day.

The documentary catches a bunch of special moments you would've never caught otherwise like Joel calling you down to the studio to play you a riff because he's so vulnerable when he first writes a song. You're the only one he trusts with that vulnerability. "What d'you think?" He asks, looking up from the frets with worry lining his face. "I think it's great. What were you thinking for drums?" You ask because you know he's already thinking ten steps ahead. He shifts through his papers to find what he wrote down. When he finishes explaining it to you, you step closer to him, rub away the line between his eyebrows, and kiss the crown of his head, his hands coming around to hold your waist. "Sounds like you've got a hit on your hands."

Or the kids all joining in on a jam sesh when they're all home at the same time. With Sam's baseball schedule and the older girls' families, friends, and lives, it's hard to find time for all seven of you to get together. But by some miracle, all the Millers find a way home at the same time, and the cameras catch them all in the studio, playing song after song just because they can. They play for so long that the camera crew had to ask you how long you thought they'd go. "Oh, they'll go all night if you let them." You say with a huge smile on your face. Your family was all under one roof. How could you not be ecstatic?

Or when Joel visited you on set with flowers when you were having a rough day. He found you sitting in your trailer with your head in your hands, tears rolling down your cheeks, and he quickly asked the camera crew to stay outside. His mic stayed on and picked up everything. "I don't think I can do this." You cried into his shirt. You were still relatively new to directing and had hit a wall. It felt like things kept stacking up against you, and you were so tired.

"What's goin' on? Talk to me." He said, and you quickly dove into exactly what was wrong, fighting tears the whole time. When you finished crying, he kissed all over your face and whispered affirmations to you. "You can do this, okay? These are just little hiccups. If anyone can handle them, it's you. Just take a second to breathe and tell me what I can do to help you."

"I don't know. I don't know." Your voice got thick with emotion again, and he shushed you gently.

"Why don't we get you somethin' to eat, and then we can talk bout it? How's that sound?" He asked, and you hummed.

The screen fades to black during your crying session in the trailer, and suddenly, you hear Ryan's shaky, loving voice announcing your name at the Oscars for Best Director. It cuts to you sitting there, stunned into silence, as everyone around you claps. Seeing those two clips so close together made you tear up and reach for Joel's hand in the theatre. The rest of the documentary goes through his recording process until the Grammy's, where he won three for the album being documented. In the last few minutes, it returns to Joel in his studio, picking at his nails.

"It is hard. I'm not gonna sit up here and pretend like just cause I've been in it for a while, I'm better at managing it all. I'm not. There are a million things I'm sure I'm doin' wrong, or I've fucked up. But my family, they love me despite everything," he says. "Every day, I wake up, and I choose them. Without them…" he trails off, tears welling in his eyes. "Without them, I'm nothin'. Most of the time, I don't feel half good enough to deserve them, but I'm tryin' to be better. I think that's all I can do. It's all I wanna do." With those wise words from the man you love so much, the credits start rolling on The Millers: A Year in the Life, and everyone in the theatre stands and claps. You turn to Joel and kiss him, with tears falling from both of you and smile against him.

When you agreed to have a documentary crew follow you around, you were sure what to expect. You didn't think your day-to-day lives were anything spectacular, but seeing them edited together like that, you see how wrong you were. You forgot how special it is to share your life with him and find sweet moments between all the chaos. For as private as you try to be, you're glad that, in a hundred years or so— when you and Joel are long gone, and your kids are old— people will be able to watch this and see how much you loved each other. How you chose each other time and time again. How you celebrated each other's wins and mourned the losses together.

A wise man once told you that the best decision he'd ever made was marrying his wife one hot Texas day many moons ago. Now, more than twenty years later, you'd be inclined to agree with him. It's hard and not always the best of times, but if you could go back in time, you wouldn't change a single thing. You'd sign the contract, go on the fake dates, fall in love, move to Ireland, and rekindle your relationship all over again if it meant you'd have a sliver of the happiness you have now.

Best decision ever.

TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha @cosmoscoffeee @shyminnie07 @beezusvreeland @eddiemunsonsbedroom @harriedandharassed @doodlebob-mp3

#one for the money two for the show #oftm #oftm family #joel miller au #joel miller x reader #rockstar!joel miller x actress!reader #rockstar!joel miller #the last of us au #tlou au #joel miller #joel miller the last of us #joel miller fic #the last of us x reader #joel tlou #joel miller one shot #joel miller series #joel miller fluff #the last of us fluff #tlou fluff

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aurora-daily · 27 days

Text

AURORA talks ‘What Happened To The Heart?’: “Apathy is the biggest enemy to progress”

youtube

AURORA in the interview for NME by Andrew Trendell (March 29th, 2024)

NME: Hello AURORA. Why did you start on this journey of trying to understand the symbolism of the heart?

AURORA: “The world has grown so accustomed to being apathetic. The truth has never been easier to share, but it’s also never been easier to manipulate either. AI was created without our consent; nobody asked us the people if we were ready to have something that big being thrown upon us. Now, so many things are going to change, which I don’t think we can yet grasp.

“Another true form of power is to manipulate people, to embarrass people, to lie; there’s so much that you can do with it that’s dangerous. People are so used to becoming overflooded by misinformation and information, and sadly we’re looking to our influencers and celebrities to tell us what we’re supposed to know about political things instead of reading about it or listening to true experts on the matter.

“Of course, I’m very vocal about things so I do think it’s important as a ‘person with a voice’ or whatever to show people what you stand for, but to be the only arrow for people to show them what they mean – that’s dangerous, as hell!”

Ah, that’s grim…

“I have a lot of hope, but I’m really concerned that everyone’s necks are fucked, everyone is hurting, everyone is tired and depressed. It’s fashionable to joke about nihilism and suicide. We have really lost touch with something that we used to have, and it was really beautiful.”

The last time we spoke was just before the release of ‘The Gods We Can Touch’, fresh after COVID when there was an air of optimism and change afoot after the activism brought on by George Floyd’s murder and a lot of talk about how we relate to each other and the planet. You said: “It’s always a good thing when the oppressed aren’t the only ones fighting and the privileged are starting to fight as well. That’s a sign of true progress”. How you feel about that progress now?

“We aren’t meant to look at a genocide [in Gaza] happening for four months on our phones before we go to work. Because of the overflow of information, our attention span is our biggest weakness. We know how to care about something for a little bit, then we kind of lose touch with it again. Our ability to be persistent with the progress that we feel like we deserve is also weak, which is understandable. I’m not blaming us for that. It’s a very natural reaction to where we are at a species now, but we’re still being forced to become apathetic.

“Apathy is the biggest enemy to progress. But I feel that in shadows and what is not on the news, there are so many good things happening. The world is literally on fire – whether global warming, injustice, slavery in Congo, or a war that nobody can stop. The people that can, won’t, because war is also business. But amongst all of that, a lot of good things are happening too. People are proving that we’re tired of peace in that we want more than that: we want real change and liberation and real progress.

“What was peace for me and you here in London was not peace for other people out there. I’m kind of tired of peace and speeches of peace, because we deserve more than that.”

In asking ‘What Happened To The Heart?’, did you find any answers?

“I kind of did. At one point the album gets very ugly, it gets very harsh, it gets very uncomfortable – before it breaks apart. Then at the end of the album there is insight and truth that you need to go and mend all of the rules that you didn’t acknowledge for all these years.

“That’s what needs to happen. Something needs to break apart a bit. Who knows where the world is heading? The least we can do is just keep being in touch with each other and ourselves.”

But it’s not as easy as that, right?

“We’re stuck in pain and many of us don’t have the energy or the courage to begin doing the small things that can make us feel so much better on a daily basis.

“Imagine what it is to be a human today: you’re on your phone, disconnected, being lied to, being manipulated, then you see what’s wrong with the world – or you think you see it but you don’t know how to do anything about it, so you escape into something else. Imagine living in that world where everyone is supposed to feed you, help you, talk the truth to you, is just constantly bringing you into a system so that they can make money.

The world’s on fire so let’s make some money?

“Yes, it is a bit like that! People are getting so tired of celebrities and politicians. People are getting tired of rich people celebrating themselves while the world is burning. You see people getting tired of it, compared to 50 years ago when it was all the rage and all a hoot!”

There’s been some discussion about whether people want reality or escapism in their music. You’re proving that you can do both.

“You can do both and you should do both, because art is both. It’s all about balance.”

You said that you made it a mission to only write for this record in “unsafe” spaces that made you feel quite alien. Where did take that you? Did it make you feel more or less certain about your ideas?

“Previously, I have gone to a place, locked the doors, turned the lights down low and made an album. This time I wanted to try different rooms and temperatures to write the songs because I needed to access a lot of different AURORAs on this album. It gave me access to a lot of parts of me that I haven’t really faced before; even parts that scared me a little – very personal parts. I’ve been exploring my own darkness more, so it is maybe my most personal album, even though it’s about something so big.”

Did that lead to some new sounds?

“It’s a very human album and there are a lot of things being played. It has a lot of different moods and every song belongs to a different part of the process for me. The album is very different from the three singles, but I like to release songs that confuse people. The fans really like the complexity. I treat the fans like kings and I would never underestimate them with my music. I know they’re going to feel very satisfied with songs that are so multi-dimensional.”

Do you feel like an outlier for that?

“There’s a lack of that. People expect music now to be very instant and free. That’s why there’s all this shit music going around on TikTok. There are also a lot of cool new acts on TikTok. I like that they can promote themselves.

“Anyway, I’ve been exploring a lot of different things. There are new sounds I’ve never heard before. I’ve been experimenting a lot and had so much fun. I nearly shat myself every day! Not that I have an issue with that.”

It’s a good sign of a good time

“I had such a good time. I don’t even know how to explain it. It’s extremely playful, and I’ve been working with people I admire.”

Including Chemical Brothers’ Tom Rowlands…

“Always, my mate Tom from Chemical Brothers. We have a lot of fun. We feel like two little aliens walking around, and we have the same hunger for something exceptional. I’m really grateful. I texted him one evening just saying, ‘Tom – puke vomit all over my song please’. And he did, for like four hours.”

Did you get lost in his garden again?

“I’m trying to not do that again. The one time I got lost in his garden it was his daughter’s birthday, and this time it was his birthday. I just love bothering him and his poor family on their birthdays – I never leave them alone. I gave him a cookie wrapped in a napkin that I found on the ground.”

I’m sure he’s OK.

“Is he though? Has anyone heard from him?”

The album also sees you work with Ane Brun, Matias Tellez (Girl In Red, Maisie Peters), Chris Greatti (Yungblud, Blink-182, Pussy Riot), Dave Hamelin (Beyonce, King Princess and Zara Larsson) and Magnus Skylstad. Greatti is somewhat of a maximalist – what did he bring to the table?

“That! I tend to go into very dark landscapes. I like when my songs sound like a landscape, but I needed a few songs on this album to sound like a different part of the process I’m trying to deal with.

“Most of the people I work with come with a little strategy, and it’s based on me meeting them in a bar then saying, ‘Let’s go to the studio now!’ With Chris, it was because I liked his hair. He had a mullet and a glam-rock thing going on. I didn’t know who he had worked with before, but he seemed really interesting. We laughed a lot and we just played. Sometimes it’s about the art, sometimes it’s just about playing, and sometimes it’s about both. We’re really good friends now.”

So if Tom Rowlands brought out the raver in you, Chris Greatti brought out the glam rocker, what did Dave Hamelin bring out in you?

“I remember I lost my voice when I went into the studio with him. It’s not often I work with new people, but sometimes it’s nice to be surprised by the unknown. Not The Unknown from that horrible Willy Wonka Experience…”

Oh you saw that? Are you not gutted to have missed it while you were in the UK?

“I was gutted. I would have loved to have seen The Unknown up-close like that. Why the fuck was he there? It’s the best thing I’ve ever seen.”

Well, there’s your next music video

“Don’t out my ideas! But to be thrown into the unknown, I wanted to cancel as I’d lost my voice my manager told me to go [into the studio with Hamelin]. I was there for four hours, I said, ‘Can you make it sound like hell?’ He made it sound terrible like I wanted, I just screamed because I couldn’t sing and it was really satisfying. After four hours I said goodbye. It was a really fast, beautiful, ugly thing – but it was just what I needed.”

Speaking of that primal urge, you play some drums and percussion on this record too right?

“I love being in touch with rhythms. I love a very big diversity in the beats in my music. A long time ago I realised that a lot of deaf people or people with hearing disabilities liked my music, so I make sure to always have a lot of vast variation in the bass regions so that it can be felt.”

How is the new album going to change the live show?

“One of my favourite shows from my childhood – and adulthood – was Avatar: The Last Airbender (not the movie, we don’t talk about that). I always felt like I was either air or water, and I feel like people are scared to change. They’re scared of me changing, they’re scared of the world changing, and themselves. That’s the most beautiful ability we have; it’s so freeing. Jesus Christ! It will change. I want more air, I want to create more space. I want every song to have huge balls.”

You’re playing Royal Albert Hall on your 2024 tour. That has plenty of space for balls.

“Yes, Royal Albert’s balls! I’m excited for every show, and just excited in general.”

And Glastonbury?

“Heck yes! In the name of mathematics, I will conquer Glastonbury. I feel like I have to redeem myself there. Every time I go there, I’ve always had a holiday for like a month. Boy, do I know how to take time off! I always arrive all shrivelled like a raisin. This time I’m going to come back fresh and sweet like a plum. I love Glastonbury because it’s so iconic. Make sure that if you’re going to use drugs that you know what’s in them. Test your drugs, but most importantly: don’t do drugs. It’s a fucking stupid thing to do.”

Any amazing advice to end on?

“Don’t do drugs, but don’t be a don’t-er. Do be a doer.”

#aurora #aurora aksnes #interviews #what happened to the heart?#Youtube

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ornii · 1 year

Text

Folie à deux

The Madness of Two,

2020, The Grammys.

Your feet pattered the limousine floor as you checked your watch, a slight panic in your face. It was the Grammys this night and with your almost meteoric rise to stardom, this is the first time you’ve felt, Anxious about it. You take a deep breath and relax, slowly letting the world fade around you. It always seems so otherworldly.

It all began with posting a few SoundCloud songs, eventually one blew up and it seems your music name began to make the rounds. Taking that opportunity, you released an album under your name and it spread like Wildfire, big Celebes we’re posting snippets on social media and overnight, you somehow took over the world.

Media deals. Record Labels, Advertisers, all were hounding for you. The next big thing, and it seems it all lead to a climax and here you were. Pulling up to the Grammys, you took a few deep breaths and waited for the door to be opened for you, as your chauffeur did, cameras flashed, cheers and screams were all over the place. You put on a smile and head inside to the main foyer, you were greeted by the obvious managers of said Grammys and was Starstruck by those inside, Multi record winning Artists, people who are considered gods. You were standing with somehow. Your awe was cut off by a voice.

“Mr (L/N)?” They ask, you turn around to a woman with a mic, not a reporter but the woman managing the seating.

“I’m glad you made it safe, if it’s okay with you, you’ll be seated next to Ortega.” She said, you raised an eyebrow slightly.

“Brian Ortega? I didnt know he liked the Grammys.” You say and she chuckles.

“No no, Miss Ortega.” She said; which Just confused you even more, you shrugged.

“Uh, Sure.” You say, you began to mingle, trying to keep up appearances as some of the most influential artists Dawned your presence. Ranging from Movie directors like Spielberg, to Multi Grammy winners like Canadas own, Aubrey Graham, better known as Drake. Ten minutes to countdown you reach your seat and relax. Everyone begins to get ready, and your train of though was on what you would say if you would, could possibly win a Grammy.

“Hey.” A Voice draws your attention and you turn to face it, and your eyes laid upon someone that made the world grind to a halt, all you could see were those beautiful eyes, soft skin and a smile that could make the darkest moments in your life shine like a supernova. and it finally dawned on you, you’re Sitting next to, Jenna Ortega. You remember when Iron Man 3 was released in Theaters, and the Vice Presidents daughter that Tony had to save, that was her! And stuck in the middle! It took moments for you to realize the impact She actually had on you.

“O-oh! Hi!” You day, your voice cracking slightly as you try not to get lost in her eyes. She offers a slight handshake and you take it, not really able to speak.

“Jenna.” She says.

“Y-yeah I’ve seen a lot of your movies I—“ you begin, but stop trying not to sound like a fanboy in front of her. She genuinely smiles at her.

“Thanks. I don’t mean to pry but you are working on more music right? With that much talent you can’t stop right?” She says and you nod.

“Anything for you.” You thought, “Shit that’s creepy why did I say that?! JUST BE COOL.” You think and nod.

“Yeah, didnt think I’d get this far, nice to meet someone my age, makes me less anxious.

“I know, feels kind heavy, doesn’t it?” She says, “All these celebs, kinda feels weird being here.” She says awkwardly. And you build up the courage to utter one sentence.

“It should, you deserve to be here.” You say, it actually catches her off guard and she can only smile and say “Thanks.”, genuinely. You two hush as the ceremony begins. It was fairly uneventful, besides You and Tyler the Creator tweeting memes at each other, before the first set of awards were given, and one of the main four was presented. Best New Artist of the Year, it was heavily contested, Alaina Castillo, Summer Walker, Normani, Giveon. You definitely wanted Giveon, Heartbreak anniversary was your jam. As Keke Palmer took the stage she has the envelope and smiles.

“Good luck.” You hear Jenna say from the side and, that boosts your confidence to levels you couldn’t imagine.

“And the Grammy for Best New Artist goes to… Your Very own! (Y/n) (L/n)!” She says and the crowd explodes, the look of shock was on your face, you rose up being congratulated by many, Jenna claps for you as you approach the stage, still stunned. You take the Grammy with a look of sheer luck and disbelief, you stand there at the Mic and just stand there for a moment.

“Uh- Sorry i had no idea I was gonna be here.” You say and they laugh, you shrug it off.

“Well, I suppose I should say something.. first thing is, well it’s been a crazy year, I went from barley making college payments to buying my parents a new house, cars, anything they could ever want and, it’s all thanks to you all.” Your anxiety was soon filled with sadness and cheers began to bellow.

“You all don’t know how much this means to me, thank you. And, god bless you all.” You raise the Grammy to a rousing applause, you return back to your seat and wipe a few tears. But a tissue was handed to you, but none other than Jenna. You two share a smile and keep the Ceremony going, but I hope you didn’t expect just one.

“Song of The Year! Album of The Year! Record of the Year!” After the third one you hear the song play as you head up with the last one and you take it, and you turn to everyone awkwardly.

“Okay i didnt expect to be up here four times.” You say to more laughter, you try to keep it short and sweet. “Seriously this is becoming a bad trend, I’m just some kid from nowhere, and you all believed in me, and I’m so glad you put your trust in me, in us. My team, my family, my fans, these are all for you.” You hold up the fourth Grammy and as usual it was arousing applause.

Nearing the End of the celebration you walk out of the Grammys with Four, FOUR; in your first appearance there. Two under your arms and to in your hands. You attempt to show them all laughing. But before you can continue you turn around to Jeanna who’s taking pictures of her own and motion her over, to take pictures with you, she rolls her eyes sarcastically as the anxiety and fear washed away to golden confidence. You both pose for the pictures and they flash so desperate for a header and they got one.

“(Y/n) (L/n) and Jenna Ortega? What could this mean for the two blossoming stars?”

#netflix #male reader #reader insert #wednesday x reader #wedensday x you #wednesday #wednesday addams x male reader #wednesday addams x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x male reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x y/n #fluff #slow burn

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reasonsmandy · 1 year

Text

Better than I thought

Warren Rojas x Fem!Reader

✧.* requested by anon — can i request an imagine for warren rojas where reader is a famous pop/whatever gender-singer and u meet him at a party were u are asked to perform and he is just mesmerized by your beauty and ur talent. and so he tries to flirt w u afterwards, and that’s all i have but u can modify/finish it as u wish <3 thank u in advance !

✧.* summary — To celebrate your best friend's special day you and Daisy had taken the stage to sing along with her. And since the lights focused on you, the drummer's attention has had no other owner, he was enchanted.

✧.* warnings — Mention of drugs, Reader and Warren a little more intimate (but no smut, sorry guys).

✧.* word count — 2.6k

✧.* 🥁 — Warren's masterlist

✧.* mandy's notes — I'm crazy about this man, I didn't have time to correct this one so maybe some mistakes. Hope you like it babys 🫶🏾

Finally the day had arrived, Simone Jackson was releasing her album you couldn't be more proud of her. You were friends for a long time, you grew up together and you always knew her great potential, so together with Daisy you were the biggest supporter of her choice to move, she was happy, in love and fulfilling her big dream.

You were also involved in the music business, and you had already released some songs that exploded across the country, but you still had a few months to go before you went on tour, so you were trying to make the most of your free time while you had it.

And today at the disco where Simone and Bernie worked there was going to be a party to celebrate Simone's big day, a private event for friends where everything could flow without cameras, media, and squinty eyes.

Warren was excited, he had wanted to go to a party for days but the rush of shows didn't help and now that he finally was going out he was thrilled. The invitation made by Daisy's friend had come as a surprise to him, after all they weren't as close as she was, but he loved Simone's music and was happy to go and honor her.

The place was illuminated with colored lights, several pamphlets with Simone's photo and the contact to buy the album in it were delivered at the door of the event, you watched the place with pride in your chest, you search with your eyes for your friend, and you find her with her girlfriend not far from you.

"Simone baby, I'm so proud of you!" You say hugging her tightly, she hugs you tenderly. "Hey Bernie my love, how are you?" You break the hug with Jackson and go hug the other woman.

"I'm fine Y/N, it's good to see you." She says, wrapping one of her arms around Simone who smiles at the contact.

"I have no words, the place is wonderful." You say pointing around you.

"My girls!" You can hear Daisy's voice behind you, she approaches hugging you and kissing your cheek, you return the affection.

"Are my eyes deceiving me, Daisy Jones herself?" You joke, making her laugh by hugging you tight. "I missed you."

"Missed you too." Daisy says getting out of the embrace. "It's been so long, please tell me that I'll have the chance to hear you tonight."

"Oh no Daisy, today it's Simone's day." You speak with conviction, seeing Simone roll her eyes playfully. "Not to mention, there are a lot of people here."

"Well, you better get used to it because from what I hear your show is selling out." Simone says smiling at you, it was such a good time for y'all that if you went back in time and told the group that, you wouldn't believe it.

"We're on our best days!" Daisy says, looking happier than ever.

After a few minutes Simone went on stage, she was perfect, that place was for her, she deserved it more than anyone and you were overjoyed to see her happy. You and Daisy admired her near the stage, Bernie was in the corner of it starting to test the soundboard, soon the music started to play and your eardrums were invaded by the angelic voice of Simone Jackson.

She sings the first song with a twinkle in her eyes, and when she finishes it, you can see her eyes water with joy.

"I wanted to say that this moment is a victory." She speaks with a broken voice, wanting to cry. "I wouldn't be here if it weren't for some people who believed in me, in my story, in my voice, in my music… First I want to thank Bernie, my love, my partner." She turns to her girlfriend, blowing her a kiss, Bernie pretends to catch it in the air, getting her hand close to her heart.

Simone turns towards you with a smile on her face.

"Y/N, I don't have the words to thank you." She kept her eyes on you tenderly. "It was always the three of us forever, at first you and me until Daisy came along and I'm sure if it wasn't for you I would fall apart, and that's why I invite you two to sing the next song with me."

Daisy breaks into a huge smile, walking up the stairs to the stage with her arms outstretched towards Simone, you felt a little embarrassed singing without having prepared for it, but for your friends you would do anything. So you took the stage.

The nervousness leaves your body when the melody starts to play, the three of you had already done this thousands of times, it was many afternoons training and singing together that your synchrony was something as natural as daylight.

However, for Warren Rojas you were the only star of that performance, it was as if the world was frozen and he only heard your voice, he was amazed with every detail in you. His eyes sparkled with the way you sang, he was admired by how your hair looked even prettier under the lighting in the room, how your smile made him feel like he was flying, He was confused about the way you attracted him, about how he felt this magnetism pulling him to you.

"I think that's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen in my life…" Warren says to the bassist next to him, Eddie laughs.

"You think so?" Eddie says eating some of what he had on hand. "Not really my type, but she's gorgeous."

"Gorgeous?" Warren says almost in disbelief. "She's wonderful! I need to talk to her…"

The song was over and the applause took place, Warren and Eddie applauded along with everyone else, the drummer was talking to his best friend without taking his eyes off you for a moment.

"Alright, I have an idea!" Eddie says with a smile on his face, Warren looks at him suspiciously.

"What do you mean?" Warren asks, but his friend is already starting to walk away from him. "Hey Eddie!"

The drummer takes his hand to his face, fixing his mustache, struggling to see where his friend was going.

Eddie leaves among the people, looking for the redhead and leaving the drummer alone watching you from afar. Roundtree loved playing the cupid, so when he saw his best friend amazed by the mystery singer he needed to do something.

When he finally found Daisy you weren't with her, in fact she was talking to a group of people he had no idea who it was. He approached pulling the singer by the arm without her having time to understand what was happening.

"What happened Eddie?" She asks, smiling.

"That friend of yours..." He says, making her laugh.

"Y/N?" She asks, already knowing the answer. "I didn't think it would be you who would be interested in her."

"It's not me." The bassist says, turning to point at the drummer but not finding him amongst the crowd. "Warren is crazy about her, I swear to you Daisy if you don't introduce her to him, the poor guy will go crazy."

Daisy looked surprised, she starts laughing leaving Roundtree without understanding anything.

"Are you high?" He says, snapping his fingers in front of her face.

She probably was, but that wasn't what she was laughing about, she was laughing at the coincidence that was happening right now. When Daisy joined the six, the three friends celebrated in the apartment that Simone and Daisy shared.

"So this one right here is Graham." Daisy held the SevenEighNine album in her hands, showing the band members to her friends.

"Billy's brother?" Simone asks and Daisy nods. "Are you with us Y/N?"

Your eyes were fixed on the drummer, you just loved how his curly hair looked, honestly you loved every detail of him in that picture.

"What?" You say when you hear your name in the conversation.

"You're quiet, what happened?" Daisy says, leaning her head on your shoulder.

"Nothing, it's just... What's this guy's name?" You point at Warren and Simone starts laughing.

"She has a thing for the drummer!" Simone says, taking a sip of her wine.

"No, hey!" You say a little embarrassed, rolling your eyes. "I just think he is cute, that's all." You say shrugging.

"His name is Warren." Daisy answers you. "But don't worry, soon you'll call him boyfriend."

"Stop!" You say laughing along with them. "I'm keeping the album."

When Daisy stopped laughing at the situation she remembered, Eddie had his arms crossed waiting for her to answer him..

"No Ed, I'm not high." She answers. "But I don't think we're going to have to do much."

"Why's that?" The bassist asks.

"Sometimes just a little push is enough." She winks at Eddie, then they start to decide what they were going to do.

You were at the disco bar, casually watching everyone around you hoping to see someone interesting. Your eyes meet Warren's across the crowd, he seems to be trying to hide that he's been looking at you for a while, you smile at him and wave, he waves back with a wink.

He takes a deep breath and walks closer to you, trying to pass between the dancing people. When you notice him approaching, nervousness takes over your body, he looked even more beautiful in person.

The drummer wore just a vest, as usual, he wore dark blue jeans and a choker on, now as he approached you could see several rings on his fingers too. You take a deep breath, averting your gaze elsewhere trying to pretend his presence doesn't make you nervous.

"Hi…" He says with a smile on his face, when he was finally next to you.

"Hey." You say turning to him, smiling with the straw in your mouth. Warren looked at you in disbelief, you were even prettier up close. "Can I help you with something?"

"Ah- I'm Warren." He looked nervous, reaching out to you, you shook his hand still smiling. "I'm Daisy's friend…"

"Oh of course!" You pretend to recognize him only now. "The drummer, isn't it?"

"That's me!" He takes your hand, bringing it to his mouth and kissing it gently. "It's a pleasure, miss…"

"L/N, Y/N L/N." You say your name to him, smiling at his simple act.

Warren sighs, with each word that comes out of your mouth a shiver rises in his stomach, he was sure he had never seen such a beautiful woman.

"Hey, are you there?" You say snapping your fingers in front of the drummer's face.

"Sorry, I got distracted by your beauty." He laughs, a little embarrassed, taking his hand to his curly hair, adjusting the curls.

"I don't blame you." You say moving closer to him. "I can't stop admiring you either."

Warren felt his legs go weak, he really wasn't expecting that. You looked at him with a small smile on your face and he felt that at any moment he could explode.

"You look handsome." You say close to his ear, the noise around made you believe he didn't hear you well at first.

Warren smiles at the compliment, you don't move away from him, your faces were still close which made the drummer nervous. His eyes don't leave your lips, he wanted so much to feel you close.

"You were amazing on stage, don't tell Daisy but I've never seen anyone as badass as you." He says making you laugh shaking your head.

"Thank you very much." You smile and he feels that every time he sees your smile he falls more. "Then you must know that you're my favorite drummer as well."

"Come on pretty girl, don't have to lie to me." He chuckles, licking his lips afterwards.

"I am not." You reassure him. "You are what makes 'kill you to try' so amazing, the drums in this song are perfect."

Holy shit, he was going to marry you.

"It's nice to know someone is listening." He speaks without taking his eyes off yours.

You stayed a few seconds facing each other, without saying anything, it seemed that the world had stopped while that tension grew between you. You approach him, putting your arms around his neck he automatically takes his to your waist gently.

"Get me out of here." You whisper, then kisses his jaw before looking back into his eyes, smiling innocently.

"Yes, mama" He responds, grabbing your hand and leading you to a secluded spot.

Eddie had his neck almost locked from straining to find his friend, no matter how hard he looked, there was no sign of the drummer.

"I can't find him anywhere!" Eddie says to the redhead next to him, frustrated.

"I can't find Y/N either" She says with a suspicious tone.

"I can't believe he disappeared now." Eddie was in disbelief, leaning against the wall.

"Guess we'll have to save it for later." Daisy says with a shrug.

…

Rojas pressed you against the wall, squeezing your waist while kissing your neck, you sighed with the contact while lightly pulling his curly strands. He stops kissing your neck and turns his attention to your lips, kissing you passionately as if he doesn't want to miss a moment with you.

The place was lit by few lights, but with effort you could see his pupils dilated, exuding the desire he felt. You felt shivers down your spine just watching him look at you like that.

"Is there something wrong?" He asks, cupping your face gently.

"Not at all." You reply, kissing him gently again. "You know, kissing you is so much better than I thought."

"Oh so you thought about it?" He spoke in a husky voice that made your legs shake with every word he said.

"Maybe…" You shrug. "Kiss me again so I can be sure"

He laughs with his tongue between his teeth, biting his lips before kissing yours. You felt like he was going to drive you crazy with every contact, his scent was the best you've ever smelled, his hands on your body made you feel chills and his kiss made you more and more addicted.

Warren felt like he was in paradise, being able to kiss you, feeling you was like satisfying an addiction, an urgent need. With your permission, he felt every corner of your body, wanting to decorate it like a map that would guide him to paradise. He knew this wasn't going to be a one night thing, he couldn't settle for the thought that the two of you were going to become a one time thing.

He needed more of you, he wanted to know you more, know your tastes, know what you liked, what bothered you. He wanted to understand your quirks, the reason for your smiles, he wanted to wake up listening to you sing next to him, fucking hell! He wanted you.

"Now there's something I need to know." He says between pecks on your lips.

"What?" You ask, smiling at him.

"I need to know If calling you mine will be better than I thought."

You felt a chill in your stomach, that man would be the death of you. You kiss him again.

"Well, you're going to have to take me out to discover Rojas."

Eddie Roundtree: I stood there waiting for him to show up for what felt like an hour, until I gave up and got busy with other things.

Daisy Jones: I told him we wouldn't have to do much *laughing* And when I saw Y/N appear with a goofy smile on her face I was sure of it.

...

Hi, I hope you enjoyed it... If you wanted to ask for something my requests are open, and if you want to ask and don't have any ideas check out my prompt list :) xoxo

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