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elvisabutler · 1 year

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good girls clean up their messes

summary: austin didn't used to have a housewife kink and neither did you. funny how life-uh- finds a way to change that. fandom: austin butler rating: m pairing: austin butler x female reader word count: 2100 warnings: housewife kink. unprotected p in v ( though can be read as committed relationship birth control situation ). cleaning kink? minor breeding kink. praise kink. brief mention of the pandemic and how austin was a recluse for a bit. author's note: welcome to day 25 of kinktober, housewife kink with austin butler. this was fun. truly i'd actually have written more but i had this view of cleaning in my head vs anything else. so honestly, anyone asks and i'll write a whole big long thing about it but for now, enjoy this little tiny thing. also thank you @pennyroyalcreep for being the one to ask for this. i had hoped someone would choose austin for this kink vs anyone else so i was pleased as punch about it when you did.

You were never made to be a housewife, you've told Austin this on more than one occasion. Even when you first met him and were first talking to him, you told him that despite how perhaps you looked it, all warm and inviting, it wasn't your sort of style. Life had a funny way of changing those things sometimes. It started out slow, after all you were the one with a faintly normal nine to five-ish job, he was the one who had to jet across the world half the time. It made sense that you would keep where you were living and he at least- stopped by clean. You weren't a heathen, you knew how to make your house look presentable. The first time Austin had come back from being away for a while was the Elvis press tour and he had been expecting to see the house in some sort of disarray, maybe you hadn't been keeping up with the laundry or maybe their were dishes piled up in the sink. Instead, what greeted him was his girlfriend- the woman he fell in love with when the world went to shit, he became a goddamn recluse for six months, and everyone had let things fall by the wayside- in her pjs doing the dishes with these stupid little green gloves that in your own words- "kept me from getting dirty while cleaning".

All Austin could think about when he saw you that way is making you as dirty as he could. His teeth bit at his lower lip, picturing you taking off those gloves, making a show of it as he just sank to his knees and showed you just how much he appreciated your effort to keep the place clean. In fact, that had been what he decided to do the moment he wrapped his arms around your waist and you had let out a small gasp at his clothed erection.

It got worse after that, with him finding every excuse to just watch you clean and you finding that you didn't mind. You wanted to show Austin how you could keep things going, wanted his praise telling you how good you were, how he had the best girlfriend that he'll marry when he gets just a minute to himself. How you made everything so clean only for him to dirty it up with you. How you clean up the kitchen when the two of you cook knowing fully well he wants to have his dessert on the table, spread out on the tablecloth, chasing your pleasure higher and higher until he has to suck on your clit just so in a way that has you almost breaking the table when you come back down to Earth with a thump.

Bikeriders is- complicated when it comes to him coming home and you hate it, it's led to you having to show him FaceTime videos of the clean bedroom and the dishes and him forcing them to let him take a break because he just wants to eat dinner with his girlfriend. It's led to praise being over text and over the phone with him stroking his cock and you curling your own fingers inside yourself or using that one vibrator Austin hates. You miss him and he misses you just as much if his moans are anything to go by, if his grunts and whispers of your name are anything to go by.

It's a Saturday and you find that there's more than a bit more dust in the house than you'd like, that and you've let the glass door leading out to the backyard remain a little too dirty for your liking. Austin had mentioned the possibility of being able to fly in for the weekend, something about an award or a round table discussion but he hadn't told you when he'd be coming in. You take a chance on him coming in early, choosing to be a little silly and wear a French maid costume you had bought for yourself last Halloween and turn on your cleaning playlist, allowing the mix of electroswing, rock and jazz fly through the air as you got started on your efforts. The door is easy enough, done in about thirty minutes and left to settle before you would go back and see if you missed any spots. Now came the hard part, the dusting that usually would have you sniffling by the end of it but you hoped it would be different this time.

Your wish is granted, just not in the way you planned for it as Austin opens the door to the house and walks in only to find you bent over, no underwear under the costume you're wearing and he has to bite his lip to swallow the groan that threatens to escape him at the image and the knowledge. He knows perfectly well how engrossed you get in your music when you're cleaning, having once snuck up on you and swayed to the beat of the music for what felt like ten minutes- it was only five- before you realized his presence and had abandoned your task. You're near the window you had just cleaned, dusting the bottom part of an end table nearby and Austin drops his bags quietly, allowing himself to sneak up on you until you feel his hands grip your hips. The gasp that leaves you is closer to the breath leaving your body, especially as Austin uses his grip to pull you into a standing position, feeling just how hard you've already made him.

"Hey baby." He murmurs into your ear, kissing the side of your neck and nipping at your earlobe. "No panties and you're dusting in this. You love painting such a pretty picture for me, don't you?"

The voice you have, the one that normally snarks at him leaves your head right in that exact moment knowing fully well you need to use it. Your answer is predictable because of it. "I have to make sure my hardworking man comes home to a nice clean house." You swallow and shake your head a little, ignoring how Austin's hands are sliding up your torso, making their way to your chest. "I've seen how messy his hotel rooms can get."

His laugh vibrates against your back and the noise slips into one ear only to settle in your brain, you missed hearing that laugh in person. "Low blow. Valid, but is that any way to treat me after all this time?"

A giggle leaves your mouth unprompted as you try and focus on dusting once more. "Yeah, maybe just a little."

He hums as an answer to your sass, cupping your breasts as he grinds against you slowly. "Want to fuck you, baby. Want to make a mess of you while you clean."

Your breath quickens just slightly as you grind back against him, allowing you to feel the roughness of the fabric of his pants against your bare ass before you pull away, smoothing down your skirt. "I've still got to dust around the door, Austin."

The noise that comes out of him when you moves sounds like a growl as he pulls you against him again. When he speaks it comes out almost as a whine. "I can just flip up that skirt while you're dusting, baby. Promise I won't make you smudge the nice clean window with your body. Just want to fuck you against the door."

You know your neighbors can likely see what Austin's doing, see how he's slowly pinning you against the door, the front of your body pressed against the cool glass, giving you some relief from how hot just having Austin pressed against you is making you feel. Your answer comes out in a pant.

"Fine. Just, you're doing the top of the door, you tree."

Austin would have laughed at you calling him a tree if he wasn't so distracted with undoing his pants and pulling down his boxers as he flipped up the skirt, exposing your now wet core to the air of the room. Unbidden, a small keen escapes your mouth as he pushes into you without warning. It's not unwelcome, but you hadn't expected him to go all in immediately. Your ass grinds backwards against him as you brace yourself against the door.

"Fuck. So fucking wet for me. You're- Perfect. That's- Got the best girlfriend, cleaning my house, cleaning the dishes, wearing outfits like this. Didn't even have this kink before but god." His words are punctuated by his thrusts, each one causing you to thump against the glass. "My pretty little housewife, doesn't even need to cook but she does. Doesn't need to do all of this but you do this just for me. You going to keep doing it? When I marry you do I get to keep this little housewife?"

"Not a housewife, Aus." You huff out a laugh, focusing on the noises of his cock entering and exiting you, it sounds like there's so much fluid that you swear you'd be surprised if there's not a puddle below your feet when you're done. "Still got my job."

"Doesn't make you any less of one." He growls against the shell of your ear, his hands dipping in between the fabric of the outfit and your skin to squeeze your breast and then your nipple. "You're gonna be my housewife, aren't you? Even when we get married you'll keep the house clean. Even when I give you a baby, you'll do it, won't you."

Your cunt clenches around him at the last part, causing embarrassment to flood your system as he chuckles. "Full of my kid, cleaning my house, making food, being such a good girl. My gorgeous housewife, my fantastic housewife that I don't deserve."

If your head starts to roll back against his shoulder, neither one of you comment on it, instead Austin uses it as a chance to kiss your neck, nipping at it occasionally as he keeps thrusting into you, stealing your breath when he hits just the right angle. One of your hands drifts toward your clit, trying to see if you can come before Austin swats it out of the way.

"No, let me take care of that. Don't want to get that pretty pussy all dirty with dust. Let me reward you, baby." He whispers as he moves to rub it, allowing you to gasp at the sensation. You can see smudges forming from your hands, from your breasts, from your skin against the glass and you find you don't mind just this once. Instead you allow yourself to grind against, his fingers, his ass, just allow yourself to move in whatever way you can to chase your high. Austin's hips are starting to stutter, his thrusts become a little erratic as he feels himself about to come before he pinches your clit in a way that should be painful but has you hitting your head against the glass door lightly, your cunt clenching around his cock, milking it as he comes with a groan against your neck. You stay like that for a few minutes, both of your legs too shaky to move before he pulls out of you, earning a mild sob of distress from your throat.

He turns you around to let himself kiss you, his thigh moving to between your legs just in case you want to rock against it. You do just slightly before you speak. "You made me smudge the glass."

Austin's laugh and smile fill the whole room with sunlight you didn't realize just how much you were missing until that exact moment. He shrugs. "I did, didn't I? Guess I'll just have to watch you clean it again. Oh no, what a tragedy."

You smack him lightly with the duster and point to the top of the door. "Laugh it up, Aus. Do that and I'll think about it."

He moves his thigh, allowing his knee to press against your clit. "My perfect little housewife isn't going to stand for that dirt. I'm getting to watch it."

It's then that you finally move his thigh back, allowing you to walk away from him, hips swaying just so as you walk to pick up the glass cleaner from the floor, exposing your cunt leaking his cum to him. "Maybe. Depends on how nice your housewife is feeling. Get to cleaning, Aus. The clock is ticking."

You both forget about cleaning about fifteen minutes in. Oh well, there was always tomorrow.

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler x you #austin butler smut #austin butler fanfic #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler x y/n #austin butler fic #austin butler imagine #ally's kinktober 2022 #ally writes #kinktober 2022 #yeah i did finished this one pretty quickly this morning. fascinating what quiet time does for a girl.

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electrificata · 2 months

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here are my house observations, im in season 3

some of the shit house says to foreman is genuinely unforgivable

foreman as a character i generally like. omar epps is giving a good performance of an even-keeled-but-not-without-effort kind of guy, i do like the plotline of a guy who came to learn from an expert whos the worst guy in the world and trying to figure out how to do the same thing without being the worst guy in the world. i also think they way they keep him out of hospital love triangles is racist, foreman is not currently hot but could be with 15% more attention from the writers room.

really sexist as a general rule. i have not encountered the idea of "jailbait" this much in literal years.

hipster racism. its the 2000s. funny to talk abt this because "hipsters" were younger at this point and the character of house is, im assuming, in his mid 40s at the start of the show, but thats the general logic that seems to be on display. "well you know that he's a good guy so its ironic and funny that he's threatening to use the n word as a joke."

a) stupid logic to begin with, doing something ironically is also just doing it, b) doesnt even work on its own terms here because house is widely acknowledged to be an awful person in the context. the entire show is built around the question "how much deliberately annoying, dangerous bullshit will we endure from this dickhead to maintain access to his unique skillset"

i still dont "get" house/wilson. like i do see it, like i can see that theyre a little obsessed with each other and they have a fun mutually manipulative dynamic, and they make sense as foils (guy who's self-consciously awful and often ends up doing noble things accidentally/guy who's self-consciously noble and often deliberately does awful things). but i cannot feel myself going insane about it. if anything i like him better with cuddy

cuddy really really hot. really really really hot. cuddy.

so like yeah i see house/wilson im just not going insane about it the way i thought i might. altho tbh it took a global pandemic and a extended, byzantine renaissance of tumblrina supernatural scholarship to make me have a destiel spiral. i need infrastructure for these things.

cameron's character is such an old school token girl character. i hate how they treat her "niceness" almost as much as i hate how they treat her crush on house.

a better show (written by me) would have some more cuddy and foreman "managing" house plotlines (foreman being a protege allows focus on the legacy of house's medicine, how to replicate it, how to contain damage), probably give him some of the cuddy and wilson time. the three of them together would be good i could do that.

cuddy/foreman. hm. in the remake.

like, i do get how this happened. house is troubled in a durable, interesting way. the writing is good enough to support his layers, the way his snap-judgement psychoanalysis of everyone he meets curls back around to shine a light on his own issues. good balance of competence and patheticness. laurie is giving a masterclass in the niche field of "british comedian comes to us tv drama, grows some stubble, becomes a sex symbol." i read an old review that referred to his "sourpuss charisma" i really like that turn of phrase.

(i was also into josh on the west wing when i watched that last year, i have a type i love antagonism. no im not dating anyone right now, who wants to take me for a candlelit dinner and tell me i smell good and my voice is sexy) (you cant just compliment me, ill be bored or uncomfortable, you have to bury it in a disagreement and make it clear youre kind of mad that youre into me)

that said i think the show kind of misunderstands house's sex appeal. it feels very written-by-men. women characters throw themselves at house in a porny kind of take-me-now way. in my observations guys who are arent traditionally hot but attractive in this antagonistic, talky was dont really get that kind of treatment, but they do get the main cast wilson/cuddy/cameron "i hate this guy but im obsessed with him and i will never make a move or i will and itll go badly" kind of stuff. my phantom house reboot does have cameron and house hook up and its a really mean and destructive fwb thing with like 4 false endings. does this make sense.

right now im in the middle of the plotline where leighton meester plays a 17 yr old girl stalking house because shes so in love. like thats not the vibe. at least from what ive seen. im not omniscient.

lol it turns out she has a spore makign her hypersexual lolllll i literally have this on in the background rn ok i take some of this back.

whenever i mention to someone im watching house theyll recount to me the plot of the one episode they can remember and it always sounds insane and its never made up.

"the one with the intersex teen model who fucks her dad to manipulate him and has testicular cancer" like yeah. yeah thats real. if you talked to me 3 weeks ago thatd be the one i recounted to you.

yes house does leer at her in that episode and its treated as logical and normal for a 45 year old man.

i hate chase, he's awful but boring.

im curious how long im gonna keep watching this, i know the later seasons get kind of soapy plotwise and i dont know if thats what i want out of this

#god this got long.

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cheemscakecat · 1 month

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Invincible Spoilers

It actually makes a lot of sense that the Viltrumites latched on to family and changed their worldview because of it.

So for thousands of years, the dominant violent faction that killed the peace-loving Viltrumites sat unchallenged because the old peaceful ways were lost. They believed they were superior to the weaker species around them, and saw them as mere animals. Very few weapons could even hurt them, much less kill.

Under those circumstances, the killing of weak Viltrumites children made a twisted kind of sense. After all, there would always be more Viltrumites having children and the strong would live. They didn’t die often, so in their perspective, children were not such a precious resource as they are to humans.

Someone engineered a virus that could kill them. And it very nearly destroyed the entire species. There were only 50 full-blooded Viltrumites left in the wake of the pandemic.

Like Nolan said, they’re on the brink of extinction.

Nolan wrote books based on his missions to destroy threats to the dying Viltrumites species. He was the guy they sent to deal with threats and see how dangerous they really were.

So he was probably also the first Viltrumite to be tasked with having a hybrid child.

Before the virus, they wouldn’t have had offspring with “lesser beings”, but they couldn’t afford to be so picky with so few in their ranks. So why not send your danger guy to make sure it won’t give you another life threatening disease or result in a deformed child? To see if the rest can follow suit and repopulate with other species.

That’s why they sent him to live with humans, they’re the most compatible species that they could find.

Death shouldn’t be a concern under Viltrumite doctrine. And it wasn’t until the virus. But now that the remaining soldiers have watched their Viltrumite friends and family die, death holds new weight.

Nolan wouldn’t use death as a point to convince Mark if he didn’t somewhat understand the weight of it. And it’s also a point against himself, because he’s arguing out loud with himself at the same time. Why would you fight for Earth and let your people go extinct?

Viltrumite doctrine commands you to kill weak offspring. That’s how things have been done for thousands of years.

But how can a tactical minded-person see the value in doing that?! When the species is nearly extinct and you’ve gone through all the effort of getting attached and trying to raise that child? Old Viltrumite doctrine and the current situation are not compatible.

Nolan is torn between the two ideologies that are telling him how to show loyalty and care. One is telling him that he needs to kill Mark to uphold the holy doctrines of his people. The other is telling him that killing your child is stupid, wasteful, and a disservice to what he’s trying to achieve.

Mark telling him that even if the humans die, they’ll still be together has put more weight on the second, correct ideology. The whole reason you’re even here is to build your species back up and keep it from fading into myth. You care about other Viltrumites. It’s self-sabotaging to destroy the very offspring that you are having to repopulate. And if being half-Viltrumite is enough to make them valuable, shouldn’t the offspring’s life be preserved?

Let’s just get Anissa out of the way first. I’m not defending what she did. She didn’t even want to have kids in the first place, which I think is something the show should expand on. We don’t get to know why, but given the fact they’re meant to have hybrid children, I’m assuming part of it is feeling that the child may be a waste.

It would suck to be pregnant for 9 months only to have something wrong with the baby, especially if in their culture that offspring would be killed at some point. I think she decided to target Mark because he’s already part Viltrumite, and her child would get their powers faster so she could start testing the strength of the child. Wastes less time putting effort into the kid if he or she is not going to grow up Viltrumite material.

The show could also expand on the fact that she has an actual relationship with the father of her second child, and had her of her own volition, not because she was commanded to. It’s implied in the comic, but she needs more development this time around. Anyways, at some point she found actual value in her children, beyond their strength.

Kregg was so down for the cause that he had multiple families at once. And he makes a very good point to Thragg; why shouldn’t we protect our families if we’re repopulating?

He’s got like 10 families, that’s at least 10 Viltrumite kids if everything goes to plan. You really wanna forfeit going from 50 to 60 Viltrumites? Mans just has the natural and sane instinct to protect his loved ones and give his kids the chance to grow up. Thragg doesn’t.

Lucan is one of 50 remaining Viltrumites, and we don’t know the ratio of men to women. But even if there were 25 of each, both genders are a precious resource for repopulating. Should we really be surprised that a man who has had 25 women to choose from at most is unwilling to soil a relationship?

Yes, there’s billions of Earth women, but you don’t go from starving to finding yourself in a supermarket and magically stop being affected by the time you were starving. Kregg stocked up on as many families as possible: Lucan was so used to rationing that he decided to be the best he could to one family, which is still precious even in a sea of options.

Thragg doesn’t understand that. He’s the embodiment of their flawed purging ideology.

Everyone else’s natural nurturing instincts were dormant under the surface, and started sprouting up when they had Earth kids. Thragg’s nurturing instincts are in the Nether for the whole series. He seems dumb because the whole Violent Fascist Viltrumite ideology he lives by is dumb.

It goes against nature and it’s a bad survival strategy. We just get to see it spelled out because the virus has already happened and he isn’t adapting like everyone else. And what’s crazy is that his surviving kids adapted even after all his brainwashing. He could have changed, but he refused and stayed embedded in his ideology his entire life.

I didn’t know where to put Thula, but she’s cool now too. [Cool as in not evil, I mean. She was never lame.]

#invincible #viltrumite #character analysis #Thragg’s wild for real. Shout out to Ursaal though.

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popcornforone · 8 months

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Professional

A Dieter Bravo Fan Fic

I for ages have been trying to write Dieter. One of my friends adores him as their favourite Pedro, & I keep toying with ideas & it’s never stuck, but today (8 August) for some reason it has & I’ve started writing him & I have spent the entire night writing him & loved every second. I think I’ve done him justice.

Synopsis:- Dieter has been nominated for another Oscar, & so is coming onto your critically acclaimed talk show ahead of the awards. The two of you just need to keep it professional.

Word count: 7800

Warnings: DO NOT READ IF YOH ARE UNDER 18. PIV mirror sex, mentions of drug & alcohol abuse, rehab, mentions of mental health & other illnesses & injuries including strokes, sex in a place of work, swearing, secret relationship,mentions of the mile high club.

Thank you all so much for reading this, I hope you’ve enjoyed this interview styled fic, all feed back is always welcome

“Lemons Laugh Longer than Leopards” you say into your microphone as you test it, walking into the room to do your interview. It always makes whoever the runner is with your coffee laugh, which then always makes you smile & then, because you are smiling, it will make whoever you are interviewing for the 30 minutes with series, automatically open up to you. This shouldn’t be a problem today though, todays guest you need to be professional & not be your true self.

The room is set up simply as usual. You usually make sure whoever you interview is offered a throw for their arm chair or cushion, but today with who you are talking to, you know exactly what they need. The two arm chairs & table set up as they usually would be. Black leather but not the kind that leaves marks or gets sweaty. One you can easily lean forward & make movements to show that you are in charge of the interview & that this is your talk show. You’ve come a very long way in no time at all. The pandemic suddenly saw your talk show viewership online increase dramatically. Your format always used to be remote before you started to make it big a few years ago, so you were all set up to just do it again, & then just send it to an editor & producer to adjust it, your much more professional that you were when you started, & your guests are now much more high profile & need less convincing then they used to, to spend 30minutes talking with you.

“Mr Bravo…” you stand up from your arm chair, as he walks in & extend your hand. He’s actually put an effort in today. So many times have you interviewed or seen this man just in his green Bath robe or in his sweatpants, his tummy hanging out. Too often have you seen the fall out from the nights of partying. But no today Dieter has a dark shirt on & some comfortable trousers. For him this is as smart as he will get for any interview. Only a red carpet or Oscar appearance will make him dress fancier.

“Long time no see” he cackles as he shakes your hand & you raise an eyebrow.

“Professional Dieter, remember…”

“Yes I know, I know, a lot of strings have been pulled yada yada, i get it I do, I’m trying to care & for once, I actually really am” that makes your smile even bigger as his make up is touched up & his own microphone is tested for volume. He’s trying to play this straight too. Your can tell by the look in his eyes as he removes his sun glasses to do the interview that this is him being genuine.

His hair is still wild which you can tell the people on your show aren’t happy about. You can hear them chatting in your ear piece that they will give your prompts for. But you & Dieter don’t want the internet to turn him into another meme. Baby chicken did make you both laugh previously but you want this to be an interview that will go down in history. That when people on youtube type in Dieter Bravo Oscar interview, in years to come, see yours as one of the top mentions, but for the right reasons.

“He’s here & has put effort in, knock it off” you whisper into your microphone, but you do it loudly enough that he can hear. You sit down in your chair & adjust your own outfit. Your tailored trousers & black jacket shine & gleam in their Prestine state, your silver heels look good with your black nail varnish on both your hands & feet. You’ve done that on purpose but no one except Dieter has noticed at all. Dieter has also noticed, that under that jacket there is no top, just a black lace bra.

“So much for keeping it professional” he mumbles under his breath as he sits in his chair. His mind now wondering slightly but then when he sees you casually smiling, he remembers he’s here to be interviewed, not look at how see through your lace is.

“Are you happy to start Dieter?” You ask as you tap your iPad on for your few notes, not that you need them, you know exactly what to ask the soon to be double Oscar winner. He gestures to the runner for a bottle of ice water which is brought over.

“Well maybe an extra hour in bed this morning would have been nice, but managers are managers & interviews have to happen” he smugly says as he checks himself out in the mirror to the side of him, making sure he’s happy.

“Did you look at roughly what I wanted to ask? I will deviate slightly, you know that, but it will stay towards what you were shown?”

“I know how your interviews go, we’ve done this a hundred times. it’s chill, I’m chilled you’re calm, we will have fun” Dieter winks & sits back in his chair. “Do your worst darling”

5,4… the count down starts in your ear ready to go & start interviewing the actor the world is desperate to hear from. You smile straight down the camera, take a deep breath saying in your mind it’s just Dieter & begin.

“Welcome to 30 minutes with… on this awards special we are talking to the current toast of Hollywood, the man who everyone wants to see on the big screen, the man who everybody has to talk to & get a selfie with. Oscar, Bafta & Emmy award winning actor Dieter Bravo. Dieter has been gracing our screens at home & at the cinema for over 20 years although he will still claim to only be 25. He claimed the lime light more in 2010 when he appeared in sci-fi thriller Beyond the Void, & has also stared in the movie The Letters & Flash Drive the HBO series. But he received global recognition for his supporting role in Your So Vein which won him countless accolades, including best supporting actor at the Oscar’s. Since then he has appeared in Cliff Beasts & now with his latest role in Isolations, he has once again picked up awards galore with the Oscar’s still to come in 5 weeks time” Dieter is very impressed with how professional you are reeling off all of his major achievements. Not once do you look down at your notes or an autocue, you do it professionally & in one take. He nods in admiration, which could be seen as him being proud of his own work but you catch a glimpse out of the corner of your eye that actually, those nods are all for you.

“Dieter, thank you so much for coming in to chat to us today for 30minutes, I know the world wants to speak to you but I just had to get in their first & you couldn’t really say no to an old friend could you?”

“The pleasure is all mine, I watch this show in my trailer on YouTube, me & you we go back to when you only used to have 5minutes with people” he chuckles. Dieter clearly has done his home work for the camera to show this is going to work, & be more than just the standard 30mins you get with other Hollywood big shots, & this makes you smile.

“Well you know more than most that I’ve come along way since then, much like you” you smile back, your trying to not let it show that you’ve known each other for longer than either of you care to remember, even before the 5minute videos, of crashing red carpets together. “So Dieter congratulations, another Oscar nomination, you already have a golden globe & a critics choice award for isolations, the BAFTAs are at the end of next week, how does it feel to get all this support & love for a role that’s gripped so many people?” You have to start with praise, you know that Dieter keeps things very close guarded in his life, both his troubled past & his private life. Buttering him up a bit might make him open up.

“Thank you, I know you’ve seen it, your not just saying that because you have to”, he starts off by shifting in his chair a little to get comfortable “getting the plaudits from your piers is always a nice thing. It always makes you so happy that you’re doing what you do. That it means something. But I do projects for me. I do it because it’s either something I’d like to watch myself, like Cliff Beasts, but I also want to do something that a challenge, you know. & sometimes the fans might be like the fuck has he made this or why is he a small part in that, but it’s just the way I flow, & I work. & when I find that grove I know if I’m putting in a good performance or not, & with Isolations it happened just as I hit the sweet spot in all the points in my life.” It’s a very honest answer from Dieter, probably one of the most honest answers anyone’s ever got from him & you on your little show have received it. Isolations might not just be changing Dieters life, it could be inadvertently about to change yours. Your producer however is moaning in your ear that Dieter swore, but you don’t care, they remind you to raise your hand slightly to tell them they may need to edit something for a of cleaner version.

“So are you saying that there are some performances you don’t give it all to?”

“Do you always give 100% every day?” He asks back accusingly.

“I always set out to Dieter”

“Well I always start to each project with that mind set. Some along the way you realise aren’t going to be your best piece of work, or you realise the story isn’t coming together, so then you just need to enjoy the experience. Have fun with the role.” You don’t press him he just follows on with “in 2015 I made a film called Above the Climb, it got slated, the lead in it Spencer Cable had to do so much damage control & took the flack from it. & we both sat there day 20 of filming going, this film is rubbish should we just have some fun & ad-lib some of this. The scene we did on the fly & the little side comments were deemed by everyone who saw it as the best parts of the film. We were proud that we made it enjoyable for others & we also got a kick out it” Dieter talking about Above the Climb in these terms is expected, but to be so honest about the process is so refreshing to hear an actor say that they don’t always have good days.

“I mean we can’t all be Tom Hanks can we & I can’t be Graham Norton” you joke & Dieter laughs. He’s always said you haven’t made in it life until you’ve got drunk on Nortons sofa for his Friday talk show, & he knows when this interview is done he will be hopping on a plane to do just that.

“Well you are my warm up for him.” Your banter & conversation is so organic. This is so natural to you both.

“That’s the best compliment any interviewee has ever given me” your smile is so genuine & so is his back to you. For all of 2 second you pause before realising you can’t stare into those deep brown eyes all day, & look at him twitch his pinkie ring. You’ve got questions to ask.

“You don’t like talking about your personal life anymore, but we all know you’ve had let’s say an interesting past…” you know your pushing the envelope here especially as he edges forward in his chair. Dieter has been known to walk out of interviews which go too far especially since the last Cliff Beasts film.”…in away did your past help you develop more of the character of Jackson in isolations? Was there any part that you thought could have been crossing between fiction & reality?” You’ve asked this in a clever way which he is impressed with. It’s not a oh how are you now off the drugs & the hundreds of crazy parties, you’ve asked it in a way where all he had to do is talk about the film.

“Jackson does embody some of my less desirable traits for sure. I had been off the coke since the end of the lock downs, the world saw my near death experience in the press. It was scary & I did after a while lock myself inside my head, my demons did try & take over, but it did take a lot of support & loyalty from the friends around me to get me through it. Those who really know me got me through & I listened to their stories of me & my trauma before I started filming. I got an insight as to what it was like to put up with me & that made me realise even more how much these people cared for me” Dieter isn’t showing off. So often in interviews Dieter is the show off, stealing the spot light. But here his vulnerability is showing. You want to portray him for the man he really is, be it the man with the ego & also the man who is behind the persona the world sees.

“Would you say there are people who you thought were there for you who then weren’t?” As you ask this you see Dieter raise an eyebrow. You have known Dieter for a while, you know the circles he frequents & those who have always used him for personal gain, claiming to be friends, clearly in it for themselves not caring who gets hurt along the way.

“A few, I know who they are, & I know they didn’t want their reputations tarnished, but now they all are sitting there not being interviewed by you” Dieter firmly says back. You know this is the end of this line of questioning based on his body language. You know which 3 people this is, & you gave him a chance to call them out. A more intimidating interviewer would press further for names & gossip, but you would like to keep the status quo with him so leave it there.

“No they aren’t, you are. & not only are you here but as an Oscar Nominee again, is there anything you are experiencing differently with a second nomination that to the first time” you face returns to a friendly one which he reciprocates.

“People take me more seriously this time on the consideration circuit”

“How so?” You look shocked at his answer. This is Dieter Bravo, a name the world wishes they could have even glimpse at their script or return their phone call.

“First time people thought I was there as like a reward for my hard work. That I didn’t deserve it.” You go to shake your head & interrupt but he stops you before your lips can even part. “You don’t have to pretend. I know you didn’t, but a lot of people thought I was there to make up the numbers & said my win was a legacy win. It was only before this film came out that those critics re assessed Your So Vein & went okay maybe he can act. I felt a bit more validated this time. It feels more just. I did deserve my other Oscar, I’d be lying if I didn’t say I would have been gutted if I’d lost, but I won. I’m a winner it’s what I do.” Confident Dieter is coming to the surface now. You know confident Dieter is a pleasure to talk to.

“You’ve always said Your So Vein was fun to work on even before you got your recognition for it, & you’ve already talked about having fun on set. Is there any film you’ve enjoyed working on the most or was there a particular actor or director that was more fun that you thought would be?” Dieter sips his iced water as you say this & his eyes light up, he likes questions like this. If he had a tail it would wag.

“I adored & had the most fun making Sunship the 6 part comedy tv show I made. I was killed off in episode 6 but it was so much fun & I love how it kept going on for another 4 seasons. But as far as movies Lyra Watson is hilarious. At no point did a days filming on Bookworm ever feel like work, we laughed so much, & you can really see that when you watch the film back. It’s not often you get to be a ditsy bank robber is it?” He starts to laugh at his own memories of filming Bookworm & then he winks at you. You actual had a cameo in that film as a writer who smacked him across the head with a book. Something that you should have been on set for 2hours for, took 7hours due to the fact you just both kept acting up.

“Well I’m gonna say nothing, I know what a blast that film was” you say. You’re trying not to laugh too & it’s the first time since you’ve started talking with Dieter that you look at your iPad to check where you are at & also to see how much time you have left. Plenty, you think to yourself & then continue.

“So when you look back on your career like we are today, is there a role you wished you’d done differently? Or is there anything that you think with the knowledge you have now, that you think actually…”

“Beyond the Void!” He answers straight away which shocks you , both in his actual quickness to answer & that he picked the thing that made him a well known actor.

“Really!?” You reply high pitched which he smiles at, before then repeating it calmly & more professionally for the recording.

“There is nothing wrong with my role or performance in Beyond the Void, but I wish I’d have been more prepared for how my life changed because of it. I was I naive & suddenly had all this fame & could do what I wanted. Everyone assumed I’d be fine.”

“So you’d want to warn your younger self?”

“Yes, I’d tell them to still act the same but I’d tell them no meth, no 4am orgys & no burger eating challenges. The life style & that level of fame was fun but it made me out to be much more of a party boy than I am” Dieter is being the most frank he’s ever been in an interview. Maybe it’s because it’s with you & the vibe you have together, but not even Norton would get this out of him. He’s giving you the goods & you aren’t even digging for them. You can hear the producers in your ear going his people won’t want this. But you know Dieter. If he’s said it he won’t want to redact things, he will want this in full to be broadcast to the world.

“That’s very honest of you Dieter, do you think due to this past, it allows you to be more honest now that you’re looking back”

“Can I just say thank you…” you raise an eyebrow “… you just said looking back & didn’t say mistakes. So many people say that I made bad mistakes that clouded my judgment, but I don’t regret it, I just wish I knew the effects of it even if it was like 5minutes before I took that drug or had to go have an std test. I would do it all again because it’s made me who I am & im happy where i am in my life. I like my slightly dangerous play boy reputations, hell I’ve got parts due to it, but I just wish I had a small warning. Mistakes mould us to make us better people.”

“Wow” you say out loud & it takes you a few seconds to register your reaction to Dieter revelation & you being a professional recover form it “so many people would sit there & say it was a mistake or say no I’d rewind the clock & change it, but for you to sit there after everything, especially your stroke, & say you would do it again, is almost inspiring. I’m not saying it’s okay to take drugs or have sex filled orgys…” your producers haven’t even told you to apologise for that but you know impressionable teenagers are a huge part of your audience especially on tiktok & Instagram “…but the fact that you are saying you have got through it & yes you can get hold of more help than others struggling with it, but it’s also easier for people in the public eye to relapse.” You pause. You take a deep breath & then share a personal moment between the two of you that the world doesn’t know, but will now.

“I was there the day of your stroke, I called the ambulance, I went with you to hospital, I sat there & watched you go through hell in your hospital bed & then in your detox afterwards. Everyone knows we know each other, & that we have known each other for years, long before we both gained the fame, we now both have. To see you in that state knowing my friend was struggling & was in danger, it was horrible. To see you now thriving, surviving, living, im not afraid to say that I am so happy each time I see you.” Dieter can hear the emotion in your voice. You’ve always told him how happy & proud you were of him now, but you’ve never gone into that much detail about it & you’ve just talked about it for the world to hear. He puts his hand on his chest showing his anxiety at what you’ve just said & you copy him. There’s a few moments of unspoken silence between the two of you, before you calmly & professionally continue your professional interview with your close friend. You will always be there for each other.

“You aren’t on twitter anymore, but you do promote self care a lot on Instagram. Because, like you have been in the last few minutes, been so honest about your struggles do you see yourself as a mental health advocate?”

“Not really” Dieters voice sounds a bit pitched, he was clearly moved by your supporting words a minute ago. “I just want people to look after themselves & realise it’s okay not to be okay & that if they want to talk people out there will listen & if they want help it’s okay to ask for it. But if they don’t, the world needs to understand people deal with it differently” he runs his hand through this untamed hair as he says this. Watching that large hand go through his locks always to this day always catches you off guard.

“Do you think talking about your own struggles helps?”

“Yes. I like to talk. I know I give off the bad party boy style, but talking even if it’s just going urgh my life or being honest that you’re not enjoying something is important. Sometime you just need to cut the bullshit out” you nod in agreement while waving your finger in the way of the editing booth. His swear words will need bleeping unfortunately despite you & your audience knowing exactly what he will be saying.The producer in your ear sounds happy that you picked that up this time.

“Do you see yourself as an Instagram influencer?”

“Ha” he cackles & you snigger too, you know he hates that phrase. You always pick on him for what he puts on there or mucking up his stories or taking a selfie that’s a video. “I hate that word. Influence haha. Freeloaders more like. Oh it’s all got to be on Instagram or it didn’t happen. I know I use it, but I do it for me for work not so I can get a contract or sponsorship. Everyone wants their 15minutes of fame but no one wants to work for it. Yes I am Privileged & so are you to be in our positions we have now. But we earned it. We did it the hard way & we made it. This new generation are easily disposable, the tiktok trendies with only a 30seconds attention span, that we have to condense an advert down to to get viewers for our show or movie. It’s pathetic. & fuck I sound old moaning at that” he sinks back into his chair after his rant. Dieters always talked about earning your place in the world, & you know he won’t get cancelled for this rant, it’s actually much more restraint than he could have been. You then both look at each other & start properly laughing. You can even hear production laughing in your ear.

You look at your tablet you’ve covered most of what you wanted to but it says you’ve got about 6minutes left before you need to tie off the interview, so you go a bit left field.

“Who’s going with you to the Oscar’s? A family member, a friend, a special person?” He raises an eyebrows because you both know the answer & you wanted to see if you could trip him up in his comfortable state.

“That remains to be decided” he says rubbing his hands together, eyes telling you to move on along with a few more things.

“Do you know what you’re wearing to the Oscar’s?”

“Well the bathrobe isn’t designer chic is it?” He cackles “I’m not wearing a standard tux, let’s put it that way.” You both seem to be enjoying these quick simple questions so you throw a few more in.

“Favourite character you wished you’d played & why?”

“Ferris Buller, iconic, feel good & fun”

“What’s your favourite film to put on to cry?”

“Up” Dieter is just going along with the rapid questions. You’ve not even asked, just both have a mutual understanding after all these years of how your show works. Long gone are the 3am podcasts on trying to make it in the industry or the 5minute YouTube shorts. But your format has always been honesty & Dieter has always been happy to share.

“Sweet or Salted popcorn?”

“Why?” He stops dead in his answer “why do you always have to ask this? It’s a deal breaker I know but I’m never answering not in front of the camera, all popcorn is delicious”

“Chicken” you giggle.

“Sorry?

“You heard me, baby chicken” he was once turned into a meme when he had his hair slicked back for an event, that he looked like a freshly hatched chick. It’s a good thing you know each other so well, as when your eyes meet you both fall apart in hysterics.

“& I thought you were gonna be professional” Dieter roars back slapping his leg as he bends over, tears almost falling from his face as you try to calm down to regain your composure to end the interview. “Ooh that takes me back to the food old days, when between us we had 20 fans & 16 of them were yours” he laughs before gathering himself again.

“Then maybe we should end with a question like back in the day Dieter.” You raise an eyebrow so he can work out what you’re about to ask him.

“Oooh a throw back yes please, bet you didn’t do this with DiCaprio.” His smirk shows that you both have each other in the palm of your hand. A smirk that gets all men & women into his bed, the smirk of seduction.

You mute your ear piece & face Dieter square on, as you can hear the Gallery panicking that this want pre planned. They have no idea how Dieter is going to react to whatever you know spontaneously ask.

“How about one last time we do a never have I ever…” you wink. “For those of you who haven’t followed my career, I used to end all my podcasts & interviews with a never have I ever questions which then I’d respond to & do my own, so for example Clare Blip has never watched a Harry Potter movie…”

“No way!” Dieter exhales

“Well she might have done now, it was 3 years ago, she had some lockdowns to do them in. Anyhow Dieter do you want to go first or should I?” You lean forward trying to guess what he’s going to say. You feel as excited as the first time you came up with the concept, it’s such a brilliant way of finding information out about other people. You were shocked no one had done this before.

“I’ll go first…” he says licking his lips & rubbing his hands he’s got a good one, he was always king of this when you used to play it on the episodes he came on. “Never have I ever…” he’s not lost his touch as he pauses for dramatic effect “… received a love letter or email”

“Awww Dieter really?”

“Yep not even a valentines card”

“Ooh that makes me feel sad.”You go to reach his hand but realise he’s a bit to far away. “Okay I have, I did last Valentine’s Day, it was really sweet, & I had no idea & im very lucky to have him in my life” you smile trying not to make eye contact as you think of your own one to say. “Okay my never have I ever is…I have never dated someone to get ahead in this world, I’ve only ever dated for love or a relationship”

“Really?” Dieter asks suspiciously, “what about” you shoot him a look “okay okay, your asking questions not me. Obviously I have, you know I have, the world knows I have, but that was me high on life can you blame me?”

“No, not really” you say sighing as your tablet hits the end of the silent timer.

“Dieter Bravo, today has been more than a pleasure for this episode of 30 minutes with, I know we’re friends & have known each other for longer than we both care to admit, but it’s just so easy talking with your professionally & personally, I hope you’ve had an enjoyable time on the show”

“I have thank you so much for having me on, for taking me seriously, but I do miss the 3am podcasts we used to do.” Dieter sits back in his chair as you do all the boring generic goodbye for your show & then you also record a couple of trailers & do a few quick photos together before you head back to your dressing room to get changed.

Your flight doesn’t leave for a couple of hours but you can’t wait to get out of your tailored trousers. There’s only so much your large Holdem in knickers can do, they do a bloody good job keeping your tummy flat but you can’t wait to put on a comfortable dress with leggins & be sitting in business class soon drinking a mimosa before your flight. The door clicks & you smile as you hear it shut. You know what’s coming next. Large hands come around your waist & start unbuttoning the jacket you are wearing.

“Was that good baby?” Dieter moans in your ear before he turns you around.

“You were very professional my sexy trash panda, not once did you let it slip that we’ve been in an exclusive relationship for the last 11 months” your hand goes into his beard, enjoying the prickles against your palm before your lips finally meet his. You have wanted to kiss him all day but know only a handful of people on set know your dating, let alone that the week after the Oscar’s you are marrying the world a most eligible Batchelor. His kisses are always so passionate even when they are small but todays feel like fire. The aren’t entirely forbidden but neither of you can hold back anymore.

“I doubt what I’m about todo is at all professional” his eyes pop wide when he sees how lacy your bra is under the jacket, almost see through. “Ooh baby, you practically had theses two on show for the world to see, but they belong to me, my hands & my mouth” he says as his shirt comes off & his trousers pool around his ankles. Your hand that’s not roaming his hair as you make out caresses Dieters own tummy, sinking your thumb into his belly button a few times to make him gasp. Soon his own hands have dealt with your trousers too.

“You did lock the door baby?” You pant as you start unhooking your bra.

“This isn’t my first back stage dalliance baby, you know that…”

“Yes because I walked in on you once when…”

“Yes I know, I know I … oooh baby” Dieters has a brain malfunction as your breasts are now free. His hands go straight to them. Your breasts aren’t small, but his hands are so large they eclipse them. While he does this, your own hands go inside his briefs, making sure he is ready for a few moments time. Taking his length & starting to enjoy how hard he gets.

“Ooh Dieter, my sexy lover, fuck me like you’re at a sex drunk orgy” you moan. Professional you all of 15mins ago would be lived at how quickly your begging for 2015s celebrity sex pest to take you in a place where other people could potential interrupt if they have the right key, but it’s not like this is a one off. Dieters been officially yours for almost a year, with no one else on the side for him. You’d been a friend with benefits over the years, if one of you broke up or needed pleasure, if the other was in the same country, you’d both try & get to each other, to satisfy each others desires. You’ve done this after about a year into knowing each other. This right now though is more than that. It is love & passion & desire, no-ones taking it away from either of you.

Baskets of hair & make up products slide off the dresser which he tries to catch in his eagerness to lay you down & start fucking you. You love his clumsy little nature & grab 2 products that you know cost a lot before reaching over the the chair to put them in before you ask him how he wants you.

“I think lie on your side if possible baby, that mirror is big. If I get you at the right angle I can watch you take my fat cock, watch it make you flutter, another memory for the lonely nights without you.” He says as he rolls your massive knickers down & his face gleams as he lowers you onto the dresser. “You know your Bridget Jones knickers are always a huge turn on baby, but I don’t actually care about your little rolls, you don’t care about mine, I love to embrace your body in every respect.” You got to say oh ahh to Dieter, but your mouth falls open doing an ooo noise when he removes his briefs. Your handy work has left his shaft leaking already. This is going to be so passionate you might break the dresser as he slides his way towards you once he is also perched on it.

He swipes his penis through your arousal.

“Dieter my love please, I want you my love, I need you, want to sit on the plane to London thinking about how good you feel.”

“Who says we’re not joining the mile high club?” He says his smile twitches.

“That’s creepy…” you start but then in unison you both then say “…but I like it” quoting one of his Cliff Beasts lines. He then silences you by thrusting deep inside you in one motion, filling you up so you take all of his penis. “Fuck me” you moan.

“I’m going to baby, god you always feel so good” he says as another firm thrust makes your body quiver, thighs already trembling. “Why did I ever share this pussy with so many other men for years?” This makes you moan. Dieter had never admitted he was jealous of other men you saw & dated when you had a casual relationship, but clearly today has made him really open. He starts to move which makes your pelvis & hips respond in pleasure, rolling for him.

“Look at you baby” you eyes are drawn To your mound which is experiencing pleasure, “ooh no baby, look in the mirror” the hand that was on your shoulder holds your chin so you can see the whole view. There are your reflections. You’re on your side, your hair already becoming disheveled as he moves back to holds your shoulder & grips your arse. His movements deliberate, his rhythm found, the pounding of your pussy has begun, watching it go inside you, as you love the feel he has as he drags your walls. You’re gripping to the end of the dresser by your head, your other hand moving to help keep you going to make sure you get off. You look at the state of the both of you & a small smile forms on your lips, especially when sweat drips from his untamed hair on to your body bellow. He’s going for it & you look so bloody sexy. “Does my girl now realise how sexy she is? Does she realise that your pussy is perfect for my penis? Do You enjoy the view? Should I go faster? Harder? Deeper?” The last word was said almost menacingly, it was deep & it make you clamp around him, which in turn makes him do all 3 of those things, as he exclaims “fucking love how tight you feel when I turn you on baby, why did I waste time with others, we were both fools”

“Dieter, fuck, yea that feels, oooooh yeaaaaa, don’t stop baby” looking at the two of your bodies getting sweaty & fucking the other until neither of you can function anymore is addictive. You know why Dieter wanted to take you here. This will not just be in his mind for a while but it will be in yours too. It’s his side profile that’s making you moan. His face is glistening, as the sweat pours from it. His well defined features looking so feral & full of desire as he starts to look at your body to make sure you are feeling all of it. the little oohs that escape his mouth each groan, his lips that are so plump parting as he pants. He might have been deemed a sex pest but it’s because of all those dalliances & late night orgies that you are getting the full experience. You are feeling all of him. Everyone else Dieter has ever slept with, means that you gets nights of unadulterated pleasure & lust.

“God you’re loving this, so responsive today baby, oooh fuck yes” he’s moaning throughout this sentence as you keep whining. You didn’t know your body could quiver like this & your added friction from your hand on your clit is making your grind faster. The stimulation is incredible & you can feel every motion.

“Dieter oh baby, you have me, have me, oh fuck just like that” your eyes have now left his face in the reflection. No longer watching his eyes go squid ink black, as his teeth snap almost as much as his body. Because that’s where your eyes are. On his thighs that are so thick, then & his hips generating all the thrusting power as he goes deeper inside you. He has trimmed but he’s not clean shaven, but he knows it makes his penis look longer, not that you need anymore, he’s the biggest you’ve ever had. There was more reasons as to why you always came back for more, but feeling how deep he went inside you, the only man to make your scream, finding the sweet spot that he hits multiple times each session without even trying, that definitely made sure you never said no to Dieter.

“Keep moaning baby” Dieter starts to pull your hair, which makes your body jolt & you gasp for air. You’re so turned on. You’re so feral. Your pelvis moving with your hips, clamping around him every few thrusts, gyrating for all of his desire. “I like it when you moan, it reminds me how needy you are for me.” He’s moaning too, loving how your body has started to shake. Both your climaxes building up. Watching your nipples get hard, looking at how well you take him. You really were made for each other & as the mirror starts to steam up from your panting & heat from your sweat builds up you both know you’re almost there.

“Oh fuck Dieter yea”

“You like this baby?”

“Yes”

“More mirror fucking going forward?”

“Oooh yesss”

“So tight, why you so good?”

“I’m yours, only yours”

“Remember that baby”

“Ooh fuck Dieter, I can’t control it”

“So wet, fuck, so good”

All these sentances in a quick exchange are panted out inbetween moans, he can’t go any faster & you have lost control of your body rotating your lower body anti clockwise. The build exquisite, the orgasm is going to hit tou hard, & it’s time for your body to give in. You bite your bottom lip & gasp as Dieter growls.

“Soak me darling. Make sure I’m yours”

“Fuck fuck fuck oh god yessssss” you gush & let go, eurphoria sweeping across you, clamping & covering his penis with yohr cum as you scream his name at the end of your extended deep moan. “Fuck baby yes yes oh fuck”

“Yea yea that feel so so, oh fuck” Dieters own praise of you going through your own high springs him into his own. Lashings of sperm fill your core, painting your insides, oozing into you. Your body slowly stops shaking as your intense pleasure slows down as he then also make his way down from a high he hasn’t experienced in year. Maybe the best random sex he’s ever had.

“Fuck me daring, that was another level” he eventually says once his heavy breathing has slowed down & he hops off the dresser & helps you sit up. His lips finding your for the first time in about 20minutes. Frenzied to start like your both getting out the last few bits of passion, but by the time you break apart & he tucks your hair away from your face, it’s sweet & a kiss not from a famous party boy but if a loving caring fiancé.

“I promise you DiCaprio didn’t get that service baby” you eventually say as you sigh & wrap your arms around him. Holding Dieter after sex has always been your thing, even when you were just fuck buddies & he’s never pushed you back ever.

“I mean I wouldn’t have been angry if he had. He’d be jealous he didn’t get you all the time…”

“I’m also to old for him” you snigger “what he gets…”

“Isn’t you darling. He can have all those models & wannabes, but he wishes he had someone like you baby. His loss my gain” Dieter says this while peppering your neck with kisses before slowly taking you off the dresser. “You were something else just then, I could have gone on for much longer, but I just couldn’t hold back, I needed to let go baby”

“I’m not complaining baby, my body shook in ways I forgot it could” you say as you walk over to the sink to clean yourself up. There’s no shower in this dressing room at the studio. You throw Dieter a cloth too. “I know it can’t always be like that baby, I think we were just in the mood.”

“Why can’t it?” Dieter asked as he finishes his own clean up & finds his clothes. “I want you to always have a fantastic orgasm baby, I want your body to move like that, & tremble each time we fuck”

“Is that a promise Dieter?” You say as you work out where your normal non interview clothes are & start to get dressed too.

“Well let’s get on this plane to London & see if the altitude makes you ever sexier baby” Dieter says.

“Dieter, I’m not sure if anything is going to match that ever, watching our reflections & getting lost in a moment was just so intoxicating” you say as you lick your lips & finish putting your clothes on.

“You liked it?”

“No” you wrap your arms around him “I loved it.”

“Good girl, my very good girl…” Dieter gets lost in your eyes seeing the genuine glimmer behind them that filling with more desire. His lips taste delicious as you both just can’t control yourself, as you both are showing such love & lust for each other. “Maybe we can get a later flight to London…” he raises an eyebrow.

“That’s not very professional baby” you say as your lips part before colliding passionately again.

“It may not be, but it wouldn’t be the best image if we break the on plane toilet from having too much sex would it?” The glint in his eyes as he clicks the door to unlock it, ready to walk you out of the studio complex to take you to more pleasure before you both hop on that flight. You both need this desire out of your system in the best way possible. An afternoon of hotel sex might just keep you both in check until your plane lands on the other side of the Atlantic.

#fanfic #my fics #smutt #pedro pascal #no minors #over18 #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal cinematic universe #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo #dieter bravo fic #dieter bravo smut #dieter bravo fan fic #the bubble #cliff beasts 6

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joesalw · 5 months

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I both agree and disagree with the last anon. Unlike what the majority of people think, to me it seems nonsense to think Taylor was putting all the I want to marry you songs, while being with someone who didn't want it. It makes much more sense to me that she put those songs because they had talked about it, it's not like he was pretending not to listen. There were plans and they were secure enough about each other for her to put out those songs. I know Taylor likes to play the victim and all that, but she is also not dumb. Like bfr she wasn't putting those songs hoping he would listen and give her a ring lmao so what do I think happened?

While I agree Taylor grew up around the idea of marriage and all that, I don't think she's that into the committement and settling down part of the equation. I think she loves the idea of marriage as in like a fantasy yk. But I think she is kind of scared or not really sure of the realistic part of what that entails, the compromises she might not be keen on making. I think in her head she wanted to marry Joe and having children and all that. But it was more like I can see that happening with him, but let's not put a timeline of when it will happen because I'm not ready yet and my career is the top priority of my life. Now if you are planning on having a family BOTH parties involved have to be aware that includes prioritizing that and planning your life around and with your children in mind.

So what I think happened is that Joe wanted the marriage, but eventually changed his mind. Not because he didn't want it anymore, but both because he felt like she wasn't ready for it to happen in the near future and also because he wasn't as sure anymore if he wanted it with her. If her as a person and the lifestyle she lives are the kind of thing he wants forever.

And you might ask well but why only think like this now? Because the Taylor of a few years ago was making an actual effort to have a life as normal as possible. The Taylor after the pandemic and specially since Midnights is back to courting attention. Be honest, seeing how she's acting now doesn't it make you wonder how their wedding was going to be invaded, how much more public she wanted them to be if they were still together, how she keeps adding tour dates after tour dates so who knows when her schedule is actually going to stabilize. I'm going to be honest you looking at all of this I wouldn't feel like she was planning a future for us and having me in consideration. I would feel unsure if I wanted to keep putting on effort and waiting around until she decided to come home.

To me, it's quite simple actually. They were having issues already because of the different opinions and in personality/what the other wanted. And Joe started to wonder well I'm not happy in this situation, like is this really the kind of thing i wanted to deal for life? Why should I agree to marry when I don't see her in that mindset and I'm not sure myself if she's the right person for me anymore? Why should I go for it and marry her when she's back to her old ways, being addicted to the spotlight, disregarding my need for peace and to keep our relationship as away from attention as possible? Why should I stay in this relationship if the things she said she wanted a few years seemingly changed and she changed to the point where it feels like she was just going along with what I wanted?

And if he knows a fraction of what she has been up to since late March, I think it only confirmed to him that her personal growth had an expiration date and she's back to high school aka he's more than glad he trusted on his instinct and didn't press on the marriage thing. Because I think he wanted it to happen sooner than later, she wasn't there yet and he realized maybe she never would be. Atleast not in the way he hoped for. Tbh just looking from the outside, her life seems exhausting. I can't imagine what must have been like not to be into this kind of life and go with it because you love the person and want to be with her. Years of this sound exhausting and I'm sure for a long while the good parts must have outweighted the bad, until last year that is.

I love to read your takes on their breakup, keep it coming

#anti taylor swift #joe alwyn #swifties dni

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randomstranger24 · 18 days

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I’m certain a lot of people think I’m some deranged lunatic and will be skeptical and or just won’t believe anything I have to say. I totally get it and if it were me on the other end, I think I’d draw the same conclusion as well. It’s more than reasonable, but I promise there is a much bigger picture and I think you deserve to at least know another perspective.

Not sure where to begin. I’ll start off first by saying I won’t be referring to anyone’s names or occupations to conceal anyone’s identity including my own.

I owe a big apology not just to the BoC fans, but also to Mike and Marcus, not that they would even give a shit, but if so, I’m sure they’d hate my guts. Yes, I am the original creator of the “Thrift Store Tape" and no, I am of no relation to the brothers, (no surprise there). I do feel spiritually connected to their music though if that’s of any consequence? (no surprise there either) I’m sure they’ll never see this, but I realize I could be viewed as an untalented hack and a giant piece of shit. This, I understand and I accept it. I never had bad intentions, I promise that, but it’s like they always say, “The road to Hell is paved with good ones”.

Here’s how this entire thing got started. Regardless of what anyone might assume, I never in a million years set out to intentionally deceive people into believing this was some long lost BoC record. Hear me out and let me explain from the beginning.

For years prior to all of this, I have been experimenting with recording my musical creations onto VHS and cassette tapes in attempts to capture those warm fuzzy lofi aesthetics, but Sometimes the final product is actually disappointing because you’d be surprised how good VHS tapes actually hold sound. So, fast forward 2018, one of my housemates at the time, who was actually the one who helped manage a Red White And Blue thrift store. This was the catalyst of what sparked this idea in my head after my housemate mentioned all the blank VHS tapes that were being donated.

I Purchased a whole bin of tapes and started dubbing my music, (both old and new) onto the donated VHS tapes to send back to the thrift stores to be re-donated in efforts of someone finding them. Kind of like putting a message in a bottle and throwing it out to sea in hopes someone finds it. I would donate several of these VHS tapes and would leave my dubbed mixes over top of older shitty movies. I had the idea of rummaging through and curating all of my “Old Tunes” sound-alikes and Vaporwave tracks or anything sounding adjacent and placing them on several tapes.

I probably dubbed well over a hundred tapes over the years since 2018, both used and blanks

I ended up donating most of them to several different thrift stores. Mostly old generic shitty “dollar-bin” movies that nobody really wants and generic kids cartoons. I would never destroy a collectible VHS or anything of value, so no worries there, but I doubt anyone will ever find the ones sent out and even if they do, they’ll most likely throw it away or something. I have a few tapes that escaped that were made with music that accidentally got deleted years ago and I would pay top dollar to get back, but that’s another story for another day.

Anyway, So, my other friend (Not housemate), who, (we’ll just say, is an independent filmmaker of sorts) had the idea which kind of spawned from mine to do a found-footage VHS horror film project also known as “Analog Horror” or the genre at least. Now, keep in mind, this is the spring of 2020 during the height of the pandemic lockdown. So, time is all we had.

I had the idea of using an ARG for people to solve to lead them down a “Rabbit Hole” as part of an interactive movie project. It would start off pleasant and would progressively get more sinister and darker and even more disturbing the further down you went. My main intention and goal was to hopefully have this project be the subject of topic on a big name youtube channel like “Nexpo”. I figured the music and aesthetic would all be “Old Tunes- BoC-inspired” and would give it a more suitable twist. I figured any fans that would ever come across it would take notice instantly that it was “BoC-inspired” or at least the music. I also figured the BoC cover tracks would add a few disturbing layers to the mystique of this “Rabbit Hole” mystery. especially since we wanted to catch those "Backrooms" "Liminal Space" vibes.

I’m sure folks will be skeptical and that’s okay, but just hear me out on this and yes, I’d be thinking the same way too, so I certainly do understand any skepticism.

Originally, the inspiration for the name “Strange Soup” Mixtape was used in the original upload in efforts to connect ties to this twisted bizarrely disturbing video titled “Blank Room Soup (Dark Web Video)”.

Now, you can do a google search about this video. It was a strange mysterious viral sensation for quite a few years after emerging on 4chan and has been a part of other “Rabbit Holes”. We ended up deleting the original video so that another one could be uploaded in place of it.

The idea was to incorporate it as part of this story, but we needed to scratch other ideas altogether because the numbers did not properly equate to the letters we needed to start the ARG and time was running out. We also needed the upload date to fall in line with the project. The creation of these ARG’s are not easy to create. Believe me when I tell you. I’m just some uneducated moron, so figuring this stuff out took trial and error. Even with the help of my friend.

Now, if all would have gone as planned, we would have opened another account uploading another tape in connection with the thrift store tape. We were in search of materials to craft out costumes like the one’s seen in the “Blank Room Soup” video and wanted to utilize the office space at my friend's school.

Originally, this is how this should have all played out in order for this horror project to have worked. We needed The first video to be uploaded at a certain date in order to maintain validity for the ARG storyline so it could be incorporated into the film project. The goal from the start was never to deceive people into believing this was a “long-lost BoC record”. I’ll explain more below.

The next step, after a week or two, was to have all of us post the link to the video in “thrift store finds facebook groups” in order to drum up the mystery. He and I shared the link on a few of the forums online such as Reddit and so on. The forums had absolutely nothing to do with music or ARG’s. Just thrift store finds and VHS collector’s groups. We wanted to build the mystery up and clue people in eventually. The original video sat on youtube for quite some time. It had like maybe 60-75 views after a month. That view count just stayed stagnant. Then one day in, I think late March out of nowhere, I got the messages in the comments. They were friendly at first with some people just mentioning it was “Boards of Canada”. I thought to myself, “Oh shit, they found the video”. Soon the view count just kept on climbing and Soon enough some folks started becoming hostile. I convinced my housemate to make a response video explaining everything. We all thought this was the best course of action because of how unbiased he’ll be for the simple fact, he has no idea who BoC is (Well, he does now lol) and he is not a musician, like, at all haha.

Me and my filmmaker friend were excited at first that at least we had an audience now and could run with it. So I figured the response video my housemate put out would quell any outrage and save our project in order to move forward but, boy, was I dead wrong.

The views kept climbing up and the comments kept coming. People were becoming hostile and outraged. Things got way too real and I started to panic slightly. I have a bad anxiety disorder and it triggered it for sure. I just had all these thoughts like, “What if I get sued by the band?” I had nightmares of the brothers coming after me and them telling me how much of a piece of shit I am.

BoC fans are some of the craftiest people you’ll ever come across, lemme tell ya lol.

They had somehow figured out the metadata from the original deleted video that was uploaded months prior. After it was confirmed and revealed to me they could dig this info up, I was in a full blown panic attack. I started hyperventilating. I messaged my buddy and told him what was up. He was against it at first, but I told him, “hey I have to delete this whole channel, they’re going to find out where I live next and who I am!” I just had the worst thoughts imaginable.

So, I hit the “Killswitch” button and within minutes it all vanished like a bad dream. I was genuinely worried at first that I could potentially face legal backlash, but my friend explained to me that I wasn't out there putting any BoC label on it or even labeling the tracks and attempting to make any money from it.

Some time had passed and the dust settled a little bit. I was kind of shocked to see people had ripped the original audio from the video and were sharing it to facebook and reddit and soon uploaded to Youtube. The “Dan Fingerman” channel was the first to reupload as I read through the comments and to my surprise they were all mostly positive. Some people thought for sure the music was BoC and others were skeptical, but most of them didn’t believe for a second, but yet still they kept talking about how much they enjoyed it. Even “David Firth” the creator of “Salad Fingers” left a comment at some point stating he liked the music, but didn’t care for the BS backstory. I was so happy that this music that had been sitting around for years on end had finally found a home somewhere.

This music is only meant for a small niche audience. Most folks will not appreciate it. I think where I really fucked up, was becoming addicted to the excitement of seeing people enjoy the music that I had accumulated over a decade. Believe me when I tell you, there is more where that all came from. It is ridiculous the hundreds of unfinished or hidden tracks I have stored on several harddrives, VHS and cassette tapes, but I am happy to finally put it all to bed today.

Here’s where I need to really step up and take accountability for my ignorance and selfishness.

Again, I was truly happy that people were actually enjoying the music so I did a foolish thing and ran with it like an idiot. All the hate and backlash that I will receive after all of this is all well deserved. Yes, I’m a giant loser, I'm an idiot, a talentless hack with no life. I’ll take the “L”. I just wanted to purge the last of this music and put an end to all of it once and for all. I think this was much needed and I can now move on with my life and stop obsessing over creating music that sounds like BoC. I can go back to writing and producing dark progressive black and death metal like I once used to lol.

The day I discovered BoC’s music is the day it changed my life forever and how I saw the world through a new lens. I became obsessed with wanting to replicate their sound. I think it is more than relevant to talk about it to help illustrate my madness.

Growing up in my teen years I was an extreme metal fanatic. I listened to a lot of black and death metal bands and played in many metal bands as a guitarist. My biggest influences were bands like Slayer, Immortal, Death, Opeth, Dimmu Borgir, Gorgoroth, Deicide, Iron Maiden, Judas Priest. You name it, If it was extreme, I was probably into them. I wanted nothing to do with any music that wasn’t extreme metal. I was very narrow-minded back then. That’s not to say I’m no longer a fan of metal, I’m just not as closed off as I used to be.

As the years went on, I would watch my favorite front men from the most prolific metal bands give interviews and mention their musical influences and would always be blown away by how far away from metal their influences actually were. One of them would mention Radiohead in multiple interviews and naturally I got curious and started trying out “Radiohead" and soon fell in love with Thom Yorke’s experimentations. I think this is where my taste began to shift. I started getting into the “chill trip-hop’ genres and bands like Portishead, producers like DJ Shadow, Flying Lotus, and J Dilla. So pretty much the recipe for being receptive to BoC was already in the making.

Eventually I stopped playing in bands after I learned how to play every instrument: Bass, Piano, drums and so on. It just got too hectic with everyone’s schedules to keep the dedication. I wanted so badly to learn how to write, record, and produce my own music. At the time I had a friend who used “Frooty Loops” to make Industrial beats, but that was about it and he would never teach me how to use the program. I wanted so badly to make my own black metal album and perform and record all the instruments as well as sing vocals.

“Opeth’s” front man Mikael Akerfeldt influenced me in other directions from the metal genre and

I eventually outgrew those desires and over time I became more interested in collecting vintage things like vhs camcorders, tape players, and record players. This really set the stage for me. Some years later, I was surfing Youtube in 2008 in search of videos on the drug `DMT" and a slideshow video of psychedelic imagery started playing and that’s when I was introduced to BoC's "Roygbiv" for the first time. As I was listening, it was like something inside of me was born. I’ll never forget that day.

Now, I grew up in the 80’s and I distinctly remember “PBS” and the shows that would air back then like Reading Rainbow and Sesame Street. As I’m listening to Roygbiv, I was in this state of disbelief. How did they manage to pull that off? These sounds of rich warm vintage analog tones of the mid 70’s TV bumpers on public broadcasting networks. It took me right back to my childhood and unlocked this part of me that had been missing my entire life. I had shivers down my spine. From that moment, I instantly fell in love. I just had to find out who the creator of this music was. I did some digging and one comment read the band name and I sought out more of their music. The next track I listened to was “Bocuma" and it buried into my soul even deeper. I had both tracks on repeat all day. It took me back to the simple days of my childhood of the early 80’s. I just had to find out what software they were using. I wanted to learn how one could possibly recreate something of the past with such an unreal haunting aesthetic.

I eventually found out this music was released in 1998 and that, of itself blew my mind as well.

I was so certain the music was from the present day using “present-day-computer-technology”.

Eventually, I got my hands on a computer and started to dabble in music production and also learned how to convert analog to digital and vise/versa. I had read on multiple forums and interviews of how they could achieve their signature sound and naturally I followed.

I would damage and degrade tapes to record on them and I had some incredible results and as mentioned before, a lot of disappointment because VHS has such a good HIFI sound. Almost better than any digital.

I would fall asleep and dream of melodies and try to figure them out. It got to a point where it plagued everything I did musically. Everything I would make would always end up sounding similar to their music. This is why I am happy today, to purge the last of it and move on with my life.

Am I mentally ill? Perhaps? Am I a lunatic? Far from it, but I needed to get all this out of my system. I am sorry for everything and I hope you can just enjoy the music for what it is. It was never about clout or recognition. I'm not here to profit financially. All I ever wanted was it all to find a home. Thank you so much for even listening and giving it the time. I owe so much to them. They opened my eyes to a whole other artistic realm. Special thanks and gratitude all goes to the brothers for all the inspiration over the many years. Thank you Mike and Marcus. Your music has settled deep within my heart and I will take it to the grave. Thank you so much and Thank all of you for all your kind words that I probably don’t deserve. Thank you for taking the time to read. I am so grateful.

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vsthepomegranate · 6 months

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Joe Biden lied about seeing Palestinians beheading 40 Israeli infants and four days later a Palestinian American six year old was stabbed 26 times in his own apartment. Under Biden's direction the US vetoed UN Security Council vote calling for an Israeli ceasefire that would allow humanitarian aid, medicine and food into Gaza. Then he visited Israel, embraced Benjamin Netanyahu (who is Israel's Donald Trump, look it up) and co-signed the Israeli lie that Hamas blew up Al Ahli hospital themselves, drafted $100 billion dollar foreign aid package, sent weapons to Israel, and gave the go ahead for a genocide in Gaza.

So, no, we will not be voting for Joe Biden in 2024.

It's very clear that the Democrats are running the Bush 9/11 playbook, i.e. Change the Conversation By Starting A War Based On Lies That Will Kill Millions of Arabs, Sustain That Effort Through Clumsy, Racist (but always effective!) Propaganda, And Endanger Arab And Muslim Americans In The Process.

So Instead of supporting universal healthcare in the midst of a global pandemic, forgiving predatory student loan debt that has hobbled an entire generation of young Americans, safeguarding the Supreme Court or protecting Roe from the decades long relentless attacks from the Right, Joe Biden is going to send billions of dollars to one of the richest countries on the planet to leverage his way back into the white house via manufactured crisis and the fake moral injury of "Fifteen 9/11s." (Someone needs to tell Pop Pop that social media exists and we can see Israelis "at war" partying at the beach, eating sushi and taking duck faced mirror selfies on Tik Tok and Instagram in real time, forty miles away from piles of dead babies...)

So no, we will not be voting for Joe Biden in 2024.

The Democrats have clearly decided that they do not need our votes. And/or the votes of other people of color and/or people under 40 and/or actual leftists across demographics-- who all overwhelmingly support Palestine... And if they think they'll keep working class white votes by playing on their Anti-Arab racism and Islamophobia as they watch the money they were told did not exist for them get funneled to one of the richest countries in the world while they struggle... well, good luck with that habibi.

Now, I can already hear the Neoliberal Hot Take Machine whirring to life with self-righteous posts about how "we" have to prevent Trump or any Republican from taking power in 2024. So I want to say to those folks directly, if you are concerned about the loss of potential votes for Biden in 2024, you should be. But instead of whipping up patronizing posts "explaining how politics work" to people living and dying at the mercy of those politics your energy is much better spent reaching out to the Democrats and letting them know that this is a losing strategy for them in 2024.

And if you doubt that Democrats need the votes of the young/ people of color/ leftists/ white working class people to win the Presidency then you can always ask Hilary Clinton. Just give her a call. She's probably at home.

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deathofpeaceofmiiind · 3 months

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high infidelity | twenty three

How’d we end up on the floor anyway? You say, your roommates cheap ass screw top rose, that’s how. We pulled up to Noah’s house and my eyes widened at the sight of it, it was beautiful. I didn’t want to creep him out and ask him if he moved but this definitely wasn’t the house he had during his twitch days. It was a bungalow hidden between a few palm trees and various plants, it had a perfect Californian vibe to it. He led me inside and my breath was taken away again, it had floor to ceiling windows that had a perfect view of the LA skyline, and open concept where his kitchen, living room and dining room blended together. I looked outside and saw he had a small in ground pool as well with an egg chair beside it, I always wanted one of those.

“Well, what do you think?” “Noah this is…wow.” I was speechless. Noah passed me a glass of wine as I admired his home like it was the Sistine chapel. “I wouldn’t give this up for Vancouver.” “Ah, it’s just a house.” He said taking a sip of his wine, “By the way, this is Jesse’s wine, don’t say anything to him.” I nodded as I brought the glass to my lips, realizing it was a sweet rose. My eyes wondered around more, I saw his vinyl collection and I immediately went over to it. I shook my head in amazement, he really knew how to keep me guessing. He had Taylor Swift’s entire discography, along with her re-records, all organized by release date. I really adored his taste in music since he didn’t stick to one genre, there was a mixture of everything in his collection.

“Big Taylor Swift fan?” I joked as I grabbed Midnights and put it in his record player. Lavender haze filled the room as I walked over back over to him. “She’s been such a huge inspiration for me. Evermore got me through so much during the pandemic.” His voice trailed off, as if there was something that happened to him during that time. I didn’t want to dig, I knew if he wanted to say something he would. “Good choice, by the way. This is my favourite opening track for an album, ever.”

“It’s so good.” I agreed as I took another sip of my wine. My eyes followed Noah as he pulled out his iPad and started typing away on it. I watched him intently, his fingers moving so swiftly, his eyes full of concentration…he did everything with such intensity, it turned me on with no effort. “I ordered from my favourite restaurant, it should be here in half an hour. I figured since it was so late we could just spend time here and I’ll take you out tomorrow.” “That sounds great.” I replied. Noah walked around the kitchen island towards me, he offered me his hand and guided me to the couch. Everything felt so romantic, he had his lighting set to a soft glow, had candles burning and put his faux fireplace on. I was curious as to what his intentions were.

“Can I ask you something?” I said now that I had a little bit of liquid courage in my system. “Why are you so hesitant to have sex with me?”

Noah sighed and put his wine glass down. “El, it’s not like I don’t want to, trust me I do. Sex has become something I take seriously now. During the pandemic when my depression hit an all time low, I was drinking so much and I used to have these girls I’d call, they’d drop everything and come over so I could fuck them to forget my problems. I had no attachment to them whatsoever and I would kick them out the second I got what I wanted. All of it left me so empty and I stopped having sex all together for a long time. Then I met you and I knew I wanted to be with you in that way, my anxiety made me feel like my old habits would come back.” He paused and I could see tears flickering in his eyes. “I just love you so much sometimes it scares me, I want to do everything right with you.”

“I love you too Noah and I know you well enough to know you wouldn’t treat me like that. I’m sorry that you went through such a dark time. I’m also sorry that I was selfish and thought maybe it was something I did.”

“You’ve done nothing wrong at all. You’ve been so patient and kind with me, I don’t deserve you.” Noah replied with a sad tone, some days this mans emotions went deeper than I expected but if anything it made me love him more. He wasn’t ashamed to show them.

I cupped his face in my hand, catching the tear that escaped him. “I think you got it wrong, I don’t deserve you.”

He softly smiled at me as he poured me another glass of wine. The more the night went on the more bottles of wine we emptied. We ended up on the floor of his living room after dinner, listening to records, laughing about nothing and enjoying each other’s company.

“You’re the greatest thing to ever happen to me you know that?” Noah drunkenly whispered as he crept up to me. I could taste his breath on me, it was sweet and strong. I watched him as his eyes focused on my lips, licking his own in the process. My heart was beating so fast and my eyes started to lose focus, I felt like maybe this was it. His lips crashed into me and I held onto the collar of his shirt as the kiss deepened. He pulled me onto his lap as he rested his back on the couch. He ripped my shirt off me and trailed kisses all over my shoulder, my collarbone and bit gently on the top of my breasts. I felt Noah growing harder under me as he took my bra off and let it cascade down my arms, completely exposing me.

“So, so fucking beautiful.” He exhaled as he caressed my breasts, tracing circles around my nipples. I was in complete bliss, every single one of his touches sent fireworks off in my mind.

Noah held the back of my neck as he gently laid me down on the carpet, he disappeared for a moment but suddenly he was towering over me. My breath hitched when I felt something cold pooling on my stomach between Noah’s lips. He had an ice cube in his mouth and was trailing it all over my body, making me squirm. When it finally melted, he undid my pants and slid them down my legs, along with my underwear. Noah’s tongue hit my clit, it was frozen solid as he flicked it back and forth. I knew I was done for as my toes curled into the carpet.

“You respond so well to my touch, you have no idea how fucking hard that makes me.” He looked up at me, grinning like a devil between my hips. He spat onto his fingers before sliding them in me, making me arch my back. His hand pressed on my lower abdomen as he hooked his fingers inside me, throwing me over the edge. “Come for me, I know you want to.”

“Noah - “ I couldn’t hold it, I screamed out in ecstasy as my body shuddered from my orgasm. He left me panting and seeing stars for a brief moment, but he didn’t give me much time to recover. He just looked at me like he was about to show me no mercy.

“I can’t wait anymore baby…I need to fuck you now.”

“I’m all yours.” I breathed out. I helped him get undressed as he closed his eyes before making a home between my thighs. He leaned over and gently kissed me, twitching as I stroked his throbbing cock. He deeply sighed with relief as soon as he was fully in me, his eyes glazed with pleasure as I wrapped around him. He started off slowly but picked up the pace rapidly, gripping into my hips to get deeper in me. Our bodies glistened with sweat, our sighs were so heavy and my body was shivering as my orgasm flooded me countless times.

“Jesus fucking Christ, you feel so good baby.” he moaned into my ear as he clasped my wrists over my head. “I don’t think I can hold on anymore.”

“Then don’t.” I whispered, his face was mere inches from mine as his hair brushed my face. He gently nodded and started to thrust into me harder, making me gasp each time. Our eyes stayed locked before he couldn’t focus anymore. Noah crashed his forehead into my shoulder as he spilled into me, letting out the most ungodly moan in my ear. My god that was worth the wait.

#noah sebastian #fanfic #bad omens

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jazzythursday · 3 months

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Hiiii, Jazzy! For the ask game: 🍓 🥑 🔪 🌿 🪲 (hehe sorry djsakgjkdg <3)

Hi Sparrow!!

🍓 ⇢ how did you get into writing fanfiction?

I’m a long time fanfic reader, but I didn’t start really writing anything until 2021. I think, probably, because of the pandemic and needing some kind of outlet for creating things (and also because the Miraculous Ladybug plotlines were haunting my dreams, rattling their chains around in my brain until I finally caved and wrote some actual communication/emotional resolution for the characters that I wasn't getting from the show)

🥑 ⇢ you accidentally killed somebody, which mutual(s) do you text for help?

You and @waterloou lol

🔪 ⇢ what's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

Bahaha there are SO many, because I frequently have to look things up to write all the fun little facts Wylan has in his head. But I’m not sure researching poisons and how to build bombs/fireworks is all that weird, to be honest.

I’m going to go with the time I was writing a Good Omens fic, and I used google street view to virtually walk from the Ritz to around where Aziraphale’s bookshop would be in soho, so I could know exactly what it looked like and if/when they would likely pass by St. James’s park on the way, and what named streets would be on that route. (I’m not even sure that’s that weird. Maybe I need to be weirder...)

🌿 ⇢ give some advice on writer's block and low creativity

I do generally believe in the whole “not forcing it and take breaks if you need to” thing usually, but as for advice:

Consume some type of media you really like. Movie, show, book, an old favorite fic, anything that inspires you. I also like going back to the source material for things like fic because it gives me ideas or gets me into the right mental place to write the characters, and I like reading my own fics to brush up on my own interpretations/style.

🪲 ⇢ add 50 words to your current wip and share the paragraph here

Oh...did you say 50? becuase I slipped and wrote 283...

(from Jesper's pov of the bookshop scene in ch 1 of Everyday)

At some point he loses Wylan to an art book he seems keen on and quietly drifts away with, leaving Jesper to talk to the enthusiastic bookeep on his own.

Jesper’s arms are getting progressively heavier with book recommendations, and the bookkeeper is somehow still holding at least twice as many. He doesn’t understand where they're even coming from at this rate, because more just seem to, to appear each time he looks away.

He thinks about Kaz and his sleight of hand, and wonders at the chance that the bastard of the Barrel has been giving magic lessons to Wijnstraat booksellers in his free time.

He actually has read some of the books the man recommends, either because they were commonly popular in his parents house or on the frontier, or from his short stint in university.

Unfortunately, mentioning that prompts the bookeep to ask, “Ah, so you’re a student, then?”

“Er—” Jesper blanches, in such a pitifully uncomposed way that he’s sure he can just feel Kaz shaking his head in judgemental spirit. The bookeep raises one solitary eyebrow, and Jesper, for some reason—probably because he’s Jesper—keeps bloody talking. “Yea-up. Yeah,” he bobs his head in a jerky nod, “Students, at the university. Good ol’ U of K. Woo...” Jesper cheers. Actually cheers.

Great fucking work Fahey, very believable.

The bookkeep raises his other eyebrow, but smiles kindly. “That must be exciting. What are you studying?” “Business,” Jesper answers quickly, and makes a concerted effort to not let it sound like a question.

His fingers twitch, longing to trace over the pearl handles of his revolvers, but they’re hidden deep under the folds of his coat, and—apparently—he’s a university student now.

I'm probably (definitely) going to be late to my fist class today now, but I really don't regret it.

Thanks for the questions!! 💖

#jazzy writes #jazzy answers questions #shadow and bone #wesper #wesper snippet #wylan van eck #six of crows #jesper fahey

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joe9cool · 1 year

Text

Collide-Justin Herbert- 36

A/N: This is fanfiction only, I am not affiliated with anyone who knows or associate with The Chargers. Also you do not have my permission to post my story anywhere else.

Sara was exhausted.

Something in her switched when Ryder brought up Taylor. After all of these years he still knew how to pick at her biggest insecurity.

After she showered and Justin had given up on trying to talk to her she laid in bed, but she didn't fall asleep. She was back in her overthrowing insomnia phase. For some reason she found herself on Taylor's twitter, where she was liking comments about her and Justin. They were discreet to anyone who wasn't in on the drama.

You're better

Don't let a man leave you for a 2(00) pound bitch.

Deciding to torture herself some more. She went on instagram and went to Taylor's profile and her tagged photos.

She was stunning, and fit the beauty standard. Tall, blonde, thin. Looked good in everything. Put a lot of effort into her appearance. Not that she didn't, but since the pandemic she lived in baggy clothes and little to no makeup.

Even up close she was stunning. Sara's photos posted by professionals were photoshopped. All of the lines and dents of fat and the hyperpigmentation were noticeable up close. Despite men lusting after her, like Taylor said, guys like Justin didn't go after women like Sara. Maybe there was a reason that he wanted to keep her private. How long would this facade last? When they break up would he go back to Taylor? She looked good on his arm, and knew her sports.

Sara ended up staying up the entire night falling down the rabbit hole of Taylor. She looked at her instagram messages.

Fat Bitch

Didn't know Herbert liked them fat

Taylor is better

I saw all of his exes. Blonde, skinny, and actually attractive. You are a secret side chick

There was one more message that stood out. It was a profile by the name of Rachel Hurst who apparently Justin followed.

Rachel Hurst: I didn't believe the rumors til I saw the pics. You're not his usual type. I fucked him in college. Guess he needed your stomach as a pillow you fat fuck.

Seriously though besides the fact he downgraded. What future do you have? You thrive off attention. He doesn't. Leave him alone and find someone who loves takeout and fame as much as you do. Justin likes girls who play sports

She clicked on the profile and saw it was open. She was an influencer that lived in Long Beach California but was from Oregon.

The whole Herbert family followed her. She went to Oregon with Justin and Patrick, she was athletic and was more his type.

She had a photo from December. It was a home game against the Rams.

So proud of you representing our home state well! 🥹😘 @JustinHerbert

And he liked it.

The comments where exactly what she was expecting

Girl you dating Justin Herbert? Liked by RachelHurst

Tell Justin we all love him! @RachelHurst Liked by RachelHurst

So why was he here? Just to get her to agree to sleep with him again? Make his meals and take care of him?

She was sobbing, trying to control the sobs so Justin didn't hear. She looked and saw it was 4am. She didn't want to face Justin not yet, otherwise she would swing at him. Sara clicked on the messaging app and texted Brittney, hopefully she was getting pregnancy insomnia like she was with Liza.

She was in luck because Brittany was up, and hungry. She texted Sara that she would pick her up.

After brushing her teeth and washing her face, she put on her glasses and some leggings with a hoodie and grabbed her purse just as her sister pulled up. Sara was surprised to see her other sisters in the car. Getting in the backseat next to Alyssa she asked. "Not that I don't mind you and Katie being here, but I didn't think you'd be up this early.

"We all think we need a sister drive." Sister drives started when Katie got her license and a car for her 16th birthday. Whenever there was a personal crisis going on, mom and dad were arguing, or just needed to get out of the house. They kept a tradition even when Katie went to Michigan for college and Alyssa went to move to Chicago with Brent. It was their special time

"Where do you guys wanna go? I'm assuming we are heading straight to the hospital once the visiting hours start." Katie pulled out of her sister's driveway.

Brittney cut in. "Well we have to get food. These girls are hungry." All at once the group looked at Brittany, who was sheepish. "It's another girl?" Sara squealed excitedly, her troubles disappearing for a moment. Brittney smiled. "Yes, but please don't say anything. Mom doesn't even know and we were going to wait til the baby was born." The girls had to calm her and assure that they wouldn't say anything. Over the years, the sisters knew each other's deepest secrets that they would take to the grave. So far no one has spilled anything, even being trashed.

Once the celebration was over they focused on the reason for the drive. Sara told her sisters the entire story, from their meeting to everything that led them up to where they were at now. They listened, only interrupting to clarify things. Once she was done they had just pulled up to McDonalds. "Wow. I mean he does love you, we all have seen how he looks at you." Brittany pulled into the drive through and they all ordered their breakfast items. Sara was glad she was in the back away from the window, the last thing she needed was to be recognized

They ate in the farthest end of the parking lot while they talked. "Sara, it's up to you, but I think Justin is a good guy. I mean he came all of the way here to beg for you back. Sure he didn't make an effort, but I think that once he realized what life was like without you, he is pulling all of the stops to make sure it doesn't happen again." Alyssa looked at Sara who sighed. Katie cut in. "Is there any other reason besides hesitancy that you won't take him back?" She paused. "Is Harry back in the picture?"

Sara shook her head. "No! We are just friends." She looked down at her coffee. Brittney sighed. "Sara I love you but you really think we don't know our baby sister. What happened that you're not telling us?"

She didn't plan on telling her sisters about what happened before she got the call about dad but she'd rather them hear it from her than someone else. "Harry came over and we just had lunch and began talking."

Alyssa took a sharp breath. "You are thinking about getting together with him?"

She shook her head. "No, but he wanted to, not only that but he asked me to marry him. Had a ring and everything."

The car erupted in a gasp. Brittany nearly spilled her orange juice on herself. Katie spoke first. "What the fuck? When were you going to tell us this?"

Sara rolled her eyes. "Gee, probably when we visit dad and put mom in the room next to him."

"Don't be a smartass, this is serious." Katie chastised her younger sister. "What did you say?"

"Nothing! Erika came in with the cat and he left. But he told me to think about it."

"And?" The girls were on the edge of their seats. "No way! Are you serious? I'm not going to marry Harry. I can't believe you would think that?"

Alyssa giggled. "I mean you were so crazy about him."

She rolled her eyes again. "Yes, but a lot has happened."

Brittany cut in. "Yeah and we didn't know about it. I mean that article that came out, we were all shocked. All of this time, you said you weren't seeing someone. Hell Brent invited a couple of his teammates to our summer barbecue to set you up."

Sara looked down. "Yeah mom told me she was hurt."

"Well can you blame us? I mean I understand not telling mom and dad. But we're your sisters, we tell you everything. You met everyone in his family, he took you to Oregon and you met his family and girlfriends. Plus he told you he loved you at his college stadium-"

"Wait what? How did you guys know that?" Sara was confused. She had never read the article, so she didn't know what details were in it. She figured it was your typical details that basic sources know, but this was very specific. "I need to read that article." She muttered.

As her sisters chatted away, her brain was working overtime. Who in God's name would sell her out like that? This was a very specific and personal detail.

One that she only told a few people.

Hospital visiting hours officially started. The girls looked at each other. "Do you guys want to go shopping in the downtown district? I don't want to go to the hospital just yet." Katie laughed. "You don't want to hear mom fuss over every single thing?"

With the agreement that they would wait before going up, they started heading towards the shops downtown. They spent a few hours in and out of stores for some retail therapy. When they grabbed lunch at the bistro, Sara's phone buzzed with a message from Justin asking to pick her up from the hospital later. She agreed, knowing that she couldn't avoid the conversation about their pending reunion forever.

While heading back to the car Katie's phone rang and when she picked it up all they could hear was screaming. "We need to get to the hospital now."

The car ride there was quiet, the girls wondering what was causing so much emotion. Once parked, they ran as fast as possible into the hospital and up to the floor (since Mike was off the ventilator, they moved him out of the ICU onto a more private floor)

They found Willa and their mother yelling at each other, security threatening them to calm down or they would be kicked out. They ran up to both of them "What the hell is going on?" Mike's doctor approached the group. "Let's go to my office where we can all talk."

"They all followed into an office room. Once the door was closed Cathy unloaded. "That woman." She pointed at her sister in law. "Says there is no hope and we should consider taking him into hospice."

The girls gasped and Willa rolled her eyes. "Oh please, the man is as dead as a doorknob. You all are just too stupid to see it. Why prolong all this pain and suffering just because you have money to do it?"

Brittany cut in. "He is off the ventilator and making good progress, this isn't your call to make!"

Willa smiled. "Oh but you didn't know that your dad put me and your mom as power of attorney in his will, so I have just as much of a right." Brittany took a sharp breath, her being a lawyer she knew exactly what that meant.

They were trapped unless their dad woke up.

They all knew it too, that's what was so enraged that no matter how terrible she was to all of them she would always have an in.

The doctor cut in. "If I may, he has been here for three weeks. Maybe a rehab facility would work If he wakes up, but hospice would not be a viable option, since he doesn't fit the mold. He is breathing on his own, we are just waiting to see if he wakes up and what damage there is."

Willa threw her hands up. "But this is ridiculous! We have lives!"

Sara growled. "So fucking leave! If you are so concerned about your own life! Leave us be! Don't you have a daughter in prison?" Remembering when Kelsi was brought up at Thanksgiving. Her Aunt's eyes narrowed at her. "Your dad paid for her bail and lawyers, better than wasting it on your career. Which by the way, if I were you I'd get on that chin lipo."

Cathy stood up. "We are not putting Mike in any facility! He is to stay here until he wakes up! I trust the medical staff one hundred percent over the likes of you!" She jabbed her finger at Willa's chest.

"Get your fucking finger-"

"Ladies!" The doctor yelled. "I won't hesitate to kick all of you out and not allow you to come back!"

Everyone became silent. "Look, I suggest you hire a mediator to deal with this. Mr. Wozniak's vitals look good and we won't know more until he looks good. His heart and brain I'm most concerned about. Until then, all we can do is wait." He got up. "Now excuse me, I have to run rounds."

The group got up and walked out, Sara being one of the last. Her mom and sisters were so engrossed in their conversation they didn't notice what happened next. Sara felt her arm being pulled in the opposite direction. She turned to see Willa pull her into a private corner. Her long, pointed nails were digging into her skin. "You're hurting me!" She tried to pull her arm away but for being in her 60s Willa was strong.

"Listen here, you got some nerve showing up after what you did to your father." Sara was confused. "This doesn't concern you."

"Yes it does, you know how upset he was when you went to visit that giant loser pauper family in bumblefuck Oregon?" Sara was red. "Don't you speak about him like that! You don't fucking know shit so fuck off to your house that your husband owns!"

Willa smiled menacingly and dug her nails deeper into her niece's arm, causing her to wince at the feeling of punctured skin. "Do you really think that he is the one for you? That Taylor that he cheated on you with, is gorgeous, the perfect package someone like him needs. She's blonde, thin, and could be the wife he needs. His agent isn't going to approve of some fat, Brunette who Is loud, obnoxious with a suicidal past."

Sara tried to not let the emotional hit hurt her, but it was pretty below the belt. "You know nothing about our relationship."

"Oh please, Kelsi told me everything. All of those girls who look like models he is following. They are in his inbox right now, and all it takes is for you to eat one cheeseburger before he goes looking, and who could blame him? There is a reason why family friends would call you the ugliest sibling. You contribute nothing to society, you can't even run a mile, do you think it's good for an athlete's image to have you on his arm?"

The tears were flowing now. "Stop it right now. Willa laughed. "Only reason anyone hangs out with you is because of status. Let's face it, all that money and fame goes away and you're nothing but that thirteen year old fat, loser who sits in her room to waste all day!"

"What the hell is going on!" They looked to see Brittney standing there, ready to kill Willa. With a newfound strength, Sara ripped her arm out of her Aunt's grip, resulting in a bad scratch. Not wanting any attention on her, she ran past her sister, past her other relatives and down the stairs so they couldn't catch up with her.

—--------------------------------------------------------

Justin was anxious.

This conversation they were going to be having was the make or break of their relationship. He was nervous, the ball was in her court. Justin wanted nothing more than to be back together. They had been making alot of progress up until last night. Something happened in the few minutes he went to pull the car up to the door. She did her usual shut down and then made sure to be out of bed and gone before he even woke up.

It was around 4 o'clock when he decided to call Sara

No one picked up. Furrowed his eyebrows, he shot her a text

Leaving in ten. Are you hungry? We can get dinner on the way back.

Sara usually responded quickly unless she was at work. This was weird. Justin waited a few minutes before looking at his phone again. Nothing from her at all. Instead of sending another text, he decided to go to the hospital.

He wasn't sure what he was expecting when he pulled up, but it wasn't Brent looking around frantically. Once he spotted Justin getting out of the car he ran towards him. "Is Sara with you?"

Justin was confused. "Um no, I told her I was going to pick her up here earlier why?"

He shook his head. She ran out about an hour ago. She and Willa got into a bad fight and she ran out. I don't know what was bad but according to Brittney she was hysterical. She's not answering her phone or anything."

Justin's face paled. "What?" Brent shook his head. "When Sara gets upset she likes to take walks, sometimes just wanders. It doesn't matter where or when."

"Where do you think she is?" Justin was ready to jump in his car. Brent shook his head. "I don't know, I don't know downtown Pittsburgh like she does. She used to hop buses and trains and take them all around the city, she did that when she would visit me and Lyss in Chicago.

He got back in her car. "I'll try to find her, just keep me updated." Brent shook his head.

Justin drove off, this was more difficult than he thought. This was his first time in the city, and he only had his GPS to guide him. He thought of the bridge that Sara had framed in her bedroom and he began to go that route. After a quick sweep he found nothing, he remembered a few places she said she loved and he went there, but found nothing. Even went inside a few establishments. It must have looked weird for someone his height to do a quick sweep and just walk out but he was desperate.

He had been out for a couple of hours before heading back to the house. Hoping she was there he walked in and called out her name. But unfortunately he was met with silence. Fuck.

He remembered Brent's words. She takes walks.

She probably walked home. He was going to kill her. Granted, being in April it was lighter later, but that was still dangerous, no security guard. Not answering her phone. No one knew where she was.

His phone buzzed and it was a message from Brent

She messaged all of us she was fine. Just needed to be alone. Didn't say where she was. Let us know when she comes home.

What the hell? Why didn't she message him? He wanted to throw his phone against the wall.

—------------------------------‐–‐—--------------------

Pittsburgh Botanical Gardens was always a beautiful place to reflect.

Sara never told anyone this was her hiding spot as a teen, because she just wanted to get away from it all. It was her place to just think and not have someone try to give you advice, or just brush off the action that hurt you.

She ran as fast as she could out of that hospital, all of the training for the fashion show paid off. Although if Brent was there, he could have easily caught up to her. Once she got to a certain point, she recognized the bus route that could take her to her personal safe haven.

So far no one approached her and she kept watching her back to see if anyone was taking photos. It was a Tuesday, so it was mostly older people, and the kids who were into the beauty.

She had been walking around disguised in sunglasses and a mask, hoping no one caught her tears. Her arm still stung underneath her hoodie, but she didn't bother to look.

Her family and Justin were blowing up her phone. Justin more so. He let her know that Brent messaged him. Sara sighed, she knew she was going to have to face him eventually but what could she say? She was never going to fit into his lifestyle, and vice versa.

It was five pm when she left, it would take about an hour to walk home, however there were sections where it wasn't the most safe and not every area had a sidewalk. Deciding to call a taxi, she routed it to the Starbucks near her house. It would only be a fifteen minute walk from there but she could easily do that.

Thankfully the taxi didn't care who was in his backseat. The entire time she kept checking her phone

Hello?

Sara please tell me where you are so I can get you.

At least let me know you're safe.

Sara

Let's talk please. Don't shut me out

She huffed at that one. Yeah so they could resolve nothing? He could get her to fall again just to tear her heart in two when something happens again? What about Taylor? And this Rachel who the family knows? She thought back to the beginning, Bellas words

You come from two different worlds.

Speaking of which, she should call her. She'd been shutting off all of the friends that reached out. They knew to give her some space, but they were worried.

At the Cafe, she found a private space in the corner and contacted her team. She had messaged Erika since their fight the other night. But from what Alex and Heidi said she was keeping down the house well.

All of her things were pushed back, and like Justin, she was feeling the pressure to get back to work. The Met Gala was in a few weeks and she had been invited this year, with Law Roach, Zendaya's stylist, reaching out to Sara's team to style her in Valentino. To be honest with everything up in the air she didnt even know if she wanted to go anymore.

She made her phone calls and caught up with all of her work. So by the time she was done with that it was nearly ten, and the cafeteria was about to close.She walked the rest of the way home, and after figuring out everything decided that she was going to end things with Justin. As Sara approached her home, she saw Justin's rental car in the driveway and all of the lights on. Standing in the driveway deciding how to sneak in without him noticing. She hoped he was at least asleep, considering he had therapy early. Luck wasn't on her side though

Going to the front door, she slowly put the key in the lock, turning in as softly as she could. She opened it and poked her head in looking around. She slowly stepped in the foyer. Sara heard Justin's voice, coming from the living room. She took off her slides and tiptoed to the area in which he was standing. Peeking again around the corner, she saw his back was turned towards her as he was talking to what seemed like someone on his management team.

She took a couple steps slowly and when he started to turn she ran for it, hoping to get to her room.

"SARA!" She made it halfway before she was lifted off the ground. His right side wrapped around her stomach as he was on the phone. "Yeah she's home. Tell everyone not to worry." He hung up and carried her to the coach where he dumped her. Making sure to put both arms on each side to create a cage.

She felt like a kid being busted breaking curfew. She didn't look him in the eyes, even though he kept trying to meet them. Finally she looked at him to see his green eyes full of anger and worry.

"What the hell is wrong with you!" He got up and began pacing. "Do you know you had me worried sick! This whole time I had no idea where you were! If you are okay!. Where were you?"

"I was around the city."

He stopped to look at her. "How did you get home?"

She shrugged. "I walked." His eyes widened and she realized what he thought. "Jus-"

"YOU walked! What the hell is wrong with you! Do you realize how stupid that was?"

Sara began to get angry as tears gathered at her eyes. "Why do you care?"

He looked at her stunned. "What?"

"I said why do you care? Matter of fact, why are you even here! Shouldn't you be in California or somewhere with Taylor or Rachel? Or someone who fits your needs? I don't understand why you are trying to fight for me when there's no point?"

Justin was lost. What was she trying to say? Was she telling him to take a hike? "Sara what are you saying?"

She shook her head. Tears rolling down her face. "I'm not what you want or need. I'm just someone to fuck and support your football needs. I won't look good on your arm at these events. I'm not athletic. I'm not blonde or skinny, so you're just wasting your time."

She turned her back. "Justin just go home."

He shook his head. "No."

"Just let me forget you." She sniffled. "Who are we fooling? We are two different people. I can't be what you need." She turned towards him to see that he was getting choked up. "Go back to your normal life."

He walked up to her, and before she knew it, he was on his knees in front of her, which was almost her full height. "I can't do that." He looked up at her, tears down his face.

"I belong to you! You're my everything. You don't understand. I love you, you're the love of my life. I can't fall asleep unless I'm next to you. All my life there was always a piece of me missing, I thought it was fulfilled by sports, going to Oregon, the NFL." He took a deep breath. "I finally realized these past few months it was you. Sara you're my lifeline, you're my heart and soul. The best part of the game is waiting for your call or knowing that I'm coming home to you."

Sara's heart was in pieces hearing this. No man had ever made her feel this, have ever spoken to her. "Tay-"

"I don't give a fuck about her. It is you, its always you."

Sara sobbed. "I'm not loveable-"

"I love everything about you. I love your smile, your laugh, how you incorporate movie quotes in conversations. Your passion for your career and your friends. How you add garlic powder on almost everything you cook." She had to laugh at that. "Your makeup all over the bathroom, your obsession with Doritos, and how you only eat lifesaver gummies; everything else candy has to involve chocolate." He rubbed her sides. "There are not enough words In the English languages to explain how much I love you."

She sniffled. "If we get back together, we do it slowly." He nodded. "It's just me and you, no one else. We have to learn how to communicate."

Justin nodded and pressed his face into her hair. "I'll claim you for everyone to see." He muttered. She ran her fingers through his hair and pressed a kiss to his head. "I hate how much I love you." She muttered. He looked up at her and pressed his lips to her, backing off he said. "I hate that I ever took you for granted."

She wiped his tears. "Let's just agree to look to the future. Just me and you?" She pushed him away and he got up to stand. "Gee it's warm in here." She pulled off her hoodie and set it down next to her. She smiled at him but saw his focus was on her arm. She noticed what his attention was on. It was bruised, with nail marks that drew blood. Sara hadn't looked at it, it was burning and tender but she had been distracted.

"Oh wow." She was rubbing at the dried blood. "I knew it was hard but not this hard." He grabbed her arm and examined it. "Did someone do this to you?" His voice was menacingly, you knew he was pissed.

"My aunt pulled me aside after the meeting with the doctor." She didn't want to tell him what was said. Of course it being Justin, he didn't let it go. "What the fuck did she say to you? She had no right to put her hands on you." He rubbed the spot, and she winced. "Come on, let's clean it up."

They went upstairs and into Sara's master bathroom. He grabbed a washcloth from the closet and put some warm water as she sat down on the toilet. He grabbed her arm and began cleaning. It was silent for a minute before she spoke. "Tell me everything about Taylor again." He looked at her. "I deserve to know the truth."

"She started off as a fling at the NFL awards in 2021. We just agreed it was a casual thing due to our careers. However we did go places and we were spotted and it was on social media everywhere. She was in Europe after last year's season ended. We just left things up in the air. I met you at the wedding and sort of forgot about her." He shrugged. Sara cut in.

"But you went by her house, and you slept with her that night I was in New York." He shook his head. "I did go over to her place and we had dinner. She tried to initiate sex but I told her no. She kissed me and then I ran out. Before you came back I ran into her at the grocery store, she got in my car to talk and I told her that I no longer wanted to see her. Taylor wanted to get into a relationship and when I said what I said she told me to quote 'fuck off' and that was it." He took a deep breath. "Those photos of me in the restaurant were with a girl I went to school with, Kristen and her boyfriend David. She knows about us."

He grabbed a couple bandaids out of the cabinet and applied them to the scratches. "Whose Rachel?"

He looked at her confused. "A girl I went to school with. Why?"

"My aunt was telling me all these things about how fat I was and that you were nothing but I didn't even deserve that. It's funny how I believed that. I don't know how I even let her get through my head.

He grabbed her and kissed her passionately. She wrapped her arms around him and moaned, missing his kiss. Pulling away he spoke. "Stubborn woman, never believe a word she says. What does this have to do with Rachel though?"

Sara pulled her phone out of her pocket. Opening the social media app she gave it to him. He took one look at it, and grabbed his phone. She watched as he clicked a few buttons. "I blocked her, and I sent out a message to my family." He was still on his phone. "I also unfollowed Taylor."

"Won't people speculate something went down?" He shrugged. "Who cares?"

She smiled, and kissed him. While she knew all of their problems weren't fixed, it was a start. It was a promise of something new, a fresh start. She moaned and Justin's lip trailed to her neck. "Wait." She pulled away.

"I'm sorry, I know you said we need to go slow." He breathed and she laughed. "Well there's that too, but I also haven't been taking my birth control properly since we broke up and I hate condoms." He smiled. "Me too, but if you wanted to use them I wouldn't complain." She laughed. "I mean we should take things slow. Last time we went too quickly, and I think that was part of the reason for the breakup."

He didn't agree with that. Justin loved that their relationship went fast, but he had to respect Sara's wishes. "Yeah." They left the bathroom, Sara deciding to get ready for bed. Justin decided to go to his room, but she called him back. "Can you sleep with me?"

He didn't hesitate, he nodded and within minutes he was in and out of his room, his bedtime routine completed. She laughed as he got under her covers quickly and patted the spot next to him. "Hold on, I got to get ready for bed."

As she did her routine, Sara got lost in her thoughts. She always knew deep down she would probably take Justin back. He was the one she truly loved, despite his flaws. Her heart felt truly healed now they were back together. She told him they were going to take things slow, and she was going to try her hardest to stick to that plan.

But damn he was her Justin, and she was his. Those words he spoke to her, his actions.

Of course they had things to figure out. But for the first time since they met, she felt peace.

She felt sure.

A/N: I dont know how I feel about this one, I couldn’t keep them apart any longer though! However, they are taking things slow! Thank you for all of the love!

#Justin Herbert #Alexa writes collide #NFL imagine

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kingsofeverything · 10 months

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Hi! Larry on a boat sounds really fun! I could use a good lunchtime read, thanks so much for offering these! We always appreciate all of you authors for sharing your AMAZING stories, but especially now, let’s sprinkle some additional appreciation on top! 🥰

omgggg this is my 3rd try posting this. i checked and it's within the character limit for tumblr, but the app kept shutting down. so now i'm on my laptop. ANYWAY. so this was a wip that i really wanted to make happen, but it hasn't worked out for me. i started it when the pandemic first started. louis is self-isolating on a boat (inspired by someone who did that here!) and i think he's older/silver foxy in this version. there's another (lost) version where they're exes.

thank you! i hope you like it!

“It’s such bullshit, man,” Niall says, pushing the sopping wet mop around on the floor behind the bar. It’s more effort than he usually makes and the smell of bleach is strong. “Can’t believe we still have to work.”

“I mean, I don’t know about you, but I’ve got rent due.” Harry downs his shot of tequila and pats his pocket. “Smoke?”

“Weed?” Niall asks, and when Harry nods, Niall does too. “Let me finish my register and shit. Have a beer while you wait.”

Harry winds up having two and a half beers before Niall is finished. They wash their hands in the kitchen, laughing because they’ve both had their hands in and out of bleach water all evening, sanitizing everything in the restaurant. They walk out with another waiter, splitting up in the parking lot. Down the road from the bar where they work are the docks where local fishermen sell their catch, and where many of them keep their boats. Very rarely are there people out there this late at night, even in the peak of summertime. With it being February, and with the plague or whatever, there definitely won’t be anyone around.

“Think I’m gonna call out tomorrow,” Niall says.

“Really?”

“Yeah, man. They can’t fire us. Or like, at the very least, they’ll hire us back.” It sounds almost sensible, but then Harry remembers that his electric bill is past due and his roommate paid him in weed again.

“You make money tonight or something?” Harry asks, narrowing his eyes.

“I did alright. Three hundred.”

“Shit. I need to quit being a waiter and tend bar,” Harry says. He didn’t make a third of that tonight.

Niall parks as close as he can, and they walk to the end of the dock. “Oh, wow. Nice boat.”

“What is that, like… Is that considered a yacht?” Harry asks, squinting into the dark. It does look like one. A small one. It has a sail, so at least it’s a sailboat. Probably.

Carefully, Harry unfolds the piece of aluminum foil he hid in the dry storage room when he first got to the restaurant that afternoon. The joint is lumpy and loose because he was in a hurry, and already high when he rolled it, but it tears easily, right down the middle. Harry makes sure to pinch the paper tight, and twists the ends of both half-sized joints before handing one to Niall.

“That boat’s anchoring? Anchored? Whatever. It’s so close, like, why didn’t they dock it?” Harry asks, exhaling through his nose. There’s no science to back it up, but his hypothesis is that he gets a better high that way. “Bet it’d be easy to steal, right? Just, like… Swim out to it, lower the sails, and let the wind take you.”

Niall snorts. And coughs. And coughs again.

“You better be choking on smoke, man.” Harry digs in his pocket and pulls out a bottle of hand sanitizer, holding it up until Niall opens his palm.

Niall coughs again and laughs his wheezing high-laugh. “Nah, man, I was picturing you stealing a boat.”

“I could do it,” Harry insists. It does seem plausible. Wind. Waves. Sails. The desire to be free. However, there’s also the desire to not get arrested. Or like, die in a boating accident or something. It’s not like he knows how to sail. Still, the drama. It’s appealing.

“Right,” Niall says. “I don’t even think you could swim out to it. It’s far. And then you’d have to climb on board, lower the sail—”

“Okay, so I probably couldn’t steal it. But I could swim out there. And get on board. There’s like, a ladder. I think. Steps, maybe? It’s not that far.” Maybe it’s the beer and weed, but he’s sure he could do it, and he doesn’t think he’ll drown. “Bet I can swim there and back in like, no time.”

Niall snorts and coughs, standing up from the dock and pointing out at the small yacht. “It’s pretty far out in the inlet. Like, that’s a fucking swim, man.”

“Still think I could do it,” Harry says, pinching the joint and holding it to his lips.

“Give you half my tips if you do it,” Niall says, and Harry whips his head around.

“Seriously?” He could really use the money.

“You’re not gonna fucking drown, are you?”

Harry shrugs. “Probably not.”

“I don’t know, man.” Niall hums quietly, circling his hand in the air, leaving a trail of smoke. “That’s like, one of my biggest fears: dying doing something stupid while high.”

“Legitimate fear. Good one,” Harry says, patting his pockets. Maybe Niall will bet him to do something… easier. “You backing out? ’Cause I’m not.”

“No, no. Hundred fifty,” Niall says, and Harry has to rethink their friendship. “But like, can you take a life jacket?”

Harry scowls. “Where am I supposed to get one of those?”

Niall points at the line of boats along the dock.

“I’m not stealing a life jacket. Just, like… Can you keep up with my shit. Like my wallet and keys?” Harry asks, and Niall nods.

“Yeah, man,” Niall says.

“My phone too,” Harry says, handing it over. He kicks off his smelly work shoes and peels off his socks. It’ll be a nice, brisk swim. Probably isn’t even that cold. He walks to the edge of the dock and bends down, dipping his toe into the water. It’s certainly not warm.

He can do this. He’s a strong swimmer. Was on the swim team when he was… Well, that was a long time ago. And he supposes it wasn’t so much a team as a group of moms trying to get their kids to burn off energy in a pool. Still. He kept the ribbons and participation medals.

“Okay, give me an hour. If I’m not back, call like, the coast guard or something.” Harry nods once and strips out of his dirty uniform, kicking it into a pile with his socks and shoes.

“An hour? I can’t sit here for an hour and like, worry about you drowning.”

“It won’t take me that long. Look,” Harry says, pointing a shaking finger at the boat. “It’s not that far. And if I don’t think I can swim back, I’ll… I’ll steal a lifejacket.”

Niall lifts his phone and says, “Okay. I’m going to record this.”

“Use my phone, man.” Harry grabs it from the pile of his things and tosses it to Niall.

“Yeah, okay. And here…” Niall pulls a wad of cash out of his pocket and hands Harry the bet money.

Harry reaches for his wallet, but stops, standing and tucking the cash into his briefs. They’re tight enough that he doesn’t think he’ll lose the money in the water. He walks back to the end of the dock, and turns to face Niall.

“Go ahead, Harry.” Niall holds up his phone, wheezing another laugh, and says, “Tell us what you’re about to do.”

“Swim to that boat and back. Niall gave me a hundred and fifty bucks,” Harry pats his dick through his underwear, and Niall snorts.

“He put the money under his dick,” Niall says, turning the phone around to film himself. “Like, he used his dick as a paper weight.”

“This is why we wash our hands, people,” Harry says, cupping himself. “Okay, okay, okay. Here goes!”

Toes curled around the edge of the wooden dock, Harry takes a few deep breaths, trying to gauge the distance to the boat, and then he dives. It’s remarkable what you remember. Swimming, though he hasn’t done it in years, feels similar to riding a bike in that way. Of course, his muscles aren’t used to the workout, and the movements don’t come as fluidly as they once did, but he’s also taller and stronger and, once he gets into a groove with his freestyle stroke, he is one hundred percent certain for the first time that he is not going to die while high and doing something stupid. Not tonight. His mom would be so pissed.

Still, by the time he’s close enough to the boat to see that there is, in fact, a ladder similar to the ones in the pool he used to swim in, he’s exhausted. He can make it back to the dock, but only after a rest.

Waves rock the boat, making it harder to hold on to the ladder, but Harry gets his footing and climbs up, water running off of his body onto the boat deck. The air is colder than he remembers, and his nipples pebble instantly.

One hand on the ladder to steady himself, Harry turns around and waves at Niall. When Niall waves back, Harry gives him two thumbs up, which he hopes are visible on camera, and looks around.

Turns out that yachts are pretty boring. At least the visible parts. The cold water sobered Harry the second he surfaced and took his first breath, and after swimming for so long, he’s now sober, exhausted, hungry, and shivering. And whatever’s interesting about the boat is probably locked up behind the two small doors that Harry hopes lead to some sort of room below. Though, he supposes there could be an engine or something in there. While he’s on board, he might as well find out.

Harry reaches for the doors to see if he can feel any handles or latches, though it’s difficult to tell what’s what in the moonlight. The doors swing open towards Harry, and he screams, stumbling backwards into the table that he just carefully avoided banging his hip on, and he falls sideways, crashing into the edge of the cushioned bench, and landing in a twisted tangle of limbs.

Niall coughs, and Harry thinks he might’ve hit his head.

A scratchy voice asks, “What the fuck?”

“Niall?” Harry speaks to the stars in the sky, too stunned to move.

“Okay, what the fuck, Niall?”

Funny. That doesn’t sound like Niall. Harry lets his head loll to the side and squints.

“No, you’re not Niall,” Harry says decisively.

“No, I’m not Niall. I’m Louis.” The most beautiful man Harry’s ever seen rises up with a glowing golden light, and floats over him. He frowns, which makes Harry sad, and points at Harry, which makes him happy, and says, “You’re Niall.”

“No, I’m Harry.” He’s almost positive.

“Okay, Harry, then. What the fuck?” Louis coughs, covering his mouth with his arm. “Damn it.”

“Oh… Do you have the plague?” Harry asks.

“Did you swim out here to ask me that?”

“Uh… um…” Harry thinks about the truth, while Louis looks him up and down, and wonders what Louis would prefer to hear. Leaning in and holding Harry’s face in his hand, Louis moves Harry’s head side to side, peering intently into his eyes. Harry lets him because it seems like the thing to do, it’s not like he’s busy otherwise. Louis combs his fingers through Harry’s hair, close to his scalp, and Harry stares in wonder at the look of concern on Louis’ face. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?” Louis tips his head to the side. “Yeah, what?”

“Don’t know,” Harry says. “You touched my face. We’re not supposed to touch our faces and I think that includes, like, other people’s faces.”

“Shit,” Louis says, pulling back and standing up.

“I’m in my underwear,” Harry says, because he is. He just realized that he’s laying on the deck, he supposes that’s what it’s called, in his tiny pink briefs and nothing else. His tiny pink briefs, a hundred a fifty dollars, and nothing else.

Louis looks down at Harry’s crotch, nodding to confirm the fact, then looks up, holding his hand over his eyes as if to shade them from the moonlight. He turns back to Harry and asks, “Did you swim out here? There’s a guy on the dock, waving at me.”

“That’s Niall,” Harry says.

“Oh, that’s Niall,” Louis says, waving at Niall. Maybe it’s the moonlight or maybe he hit his head, but it’s the most graceful wave he’s ever seen. Louis scowls down at him. “You swam out here?”

“Yeah,” Harry says, pleased to know the answer.

“Why?”

Harry remembers that he has a body, that it’s mostly naked, and that Louis is looking at him. He reaches down and cups his cock. “Niall gave me a hundred and fifty dollars.”

“And you’re touching your dick because…”

“Because of the hundred and fifty dollars,” Harry says. Duh. “Duh.”

“Okay,” Louis says, dragging out the sound and scowling at him again. Harry wants to pout, but Louis holds out his hand, as if to help Harry up, so Harry grins at him instead. Lifting his hands in the air, Harry stretches his arms up until Louis grabs him by both wrists, and pulls. Because there isn’t much space, Harry doesn’t get all the way to his feet before Louis runs out of room and can’t back up any farther. But Harry manages to get his ass onto the bench seat, and figures he’s not likely to fall again.

“Sorry I, um…” Harry rubs the back of his head where he hit it, and there’s a bump, but no blood when he checks his hand. “Sorry. We were just fucking around. Niall bet I couldn’t swim out here. I didn’t know anyone was on the boat.”

“Were you planning to swim back? Or did you think that far ahead?” Louis asks, dropping back down through the door that he came out of before. A moment later, he returns with a stack of folded towels. He drapes a towel over Harry’s head and wraps one around his shoulders. “Dry off. Warm up.”

“Thanks,” Harry says. It’s nice of Louis to be so hospitable. He very carefully bends over where he’s seated and wraps a towel around his hair, then tightens the one on his shoulders. “I can probably swim back in a little while.”

“You really think you can swim back?”

“No, but I was hoping you’d offer to like, sail me up to the dock.”

“Not tonight,” Louis says. “In the morning. When I can see.”

“Oh, okay.” Harry checks beside him on the bench and, seeing nothing, lays down.

Louis snorts. “Come below deck. You might as well sleep in a bed. You’ve already been exposed.”

“Exposed?” Harry gasps, towel toppling off his head as he clutches his hand to his chest. “You have the plague!”

“I don’t, but my boss does,” Louis says with a shrug. “So, you could, I guess? This is his boat, so…”

“Great. Thanks,” Harry says, unwrapping the towel from his hair.

“You swam out here, man,” Louis says, turning and climbing through the doors. Now that he’s not lying on the floor, Harry can see the steps that lead down into the space under the boat. Below deck or whatever. Louis calls from down there, “You can use my phone.”

“Oh, yeah.” Harry tries to focus on the end of the dock and can see Niall still standing there, waiting. Carefully, Harry gets to his feet and makes his way over to the ladder, waving at him. Niall waves back and Harry points towards Louis, who he can see is waiting for him at the bottom of the steps. Probably worried that Harry will fall again. Harry drapes his towels over his shoulders, carefully climbing down, and Louis appears at the ready, should Harry be unable to handle three measly steps. It’s cute. Louis is cute. “Do you have any Tylenol?”

“I think, yeah. You hit your head, then?”

Harry nods, and Louis reaches into a cabinet, which turns out to be a refrigerator, opening a bottle of water and handing it to Harry, who takes it, along with two Tylenol.

“Here,” Louis says, unlocking his phone and placing it in Harry’s open palm.

The only phone number Harry knows besides his mom’s is his own, which is convenient, since he left his phone with Niall. He climbs back up the step ladder and waves both arms to get Niall’s attention, hoping he’ll put it together and pick up. After his phone rings once, Harry waves again, phone in his hand so that maybe Niall will see it. When Niall jumps and claps, Harry laughs and holds the phone to his ear.

“Harry?”

“Hey, man. Shit, I’m glad you answered.”

“Yeah, what the fuck is going on? Who’s that dude?”

“Louis,” Harry says, smiling at the sound. “It’s his boat. I fell and hit my head, but I’m okay. But also, I probably shouldn’t swim back. So Louis said he’ll take me in the morning, if you’ll come pick me up, but guess what?”

“What?” Niall obliges.

“I guess he’d quarantined himself out here or something. So I’m going to have to lock myself up in my room. Probably see if I can get tested. Will you bring me food? And maybe like a mask or something for me to wear while we’re in the car together? Oh, man, we share a bathroom…”

“Shit, man. Might as well stay on the boat,” Niall says.

“Well, fuck you too, Niall,” Harry says.

“Just sayin’ you might as well, but whatever. Yeah, I’ll come pick you up, but if you cough on me, I swear, Harry, I—”

“Thanks, man. Love you,” Harry says. “I guess I’ll call you when I’m about to head towards the dock.”

“Okay, Harry. Be careful,” Niall says, and hangs up. Harry waves at him one more time, then climbs back below deck to face a worried Louis.

As Harry takes the last step, he hands Louis his phone, catching his toe and falling into Louis’ chest. He blushes, remembering again that he’s practically naked. “Oops.”

“Hi,” Louis says, steadying him with his hands on Harry’s shoulders. “Okay?”

“Wait a minute…” Harry narrows his eyes. “Come below deck. Is that some… some euphemism?”

“Euphemism?” Louis laughs, rolling his eyes. “No one’s having sex, Harry. There’s a guest cabin, so you’ll have your own berth.”

“Oh,” Harry says, unable to hide his disappointment. “Okay, thanks.”

“Yeah, it’s right here,” Louis says, and Harry turns in place, away from the tiny kitchen, which he thinks probably has a specific nautical name, towards the other side of the stepladder. It reminds him of his grandparents’ camper. “Listen, um… Do you want something to sleep in? I have some—”

“Nah, I’m good,” Harry says, crawling onto the thin mattress and looking back over his shoulder. “Usually sleep naked, so I’d just take whatever it is off again.”

“Oh… Okay.” Louis nods, swallowing audibly.

The bed in the guest cabin is made so neatly that Harry wonders if it’s ever been slept in, blankets tucked in so tight that it’s a bit of a struggle to pull them free, but he gets them loose and crawls underneath completely before wiggling out of his briefs. Sitting up, Harry shakes out his damp underwear and hangs them on a little hook that juts out of the wall, probably for someone’s glasses or hat.

“Thanks, Louis, for like, not having me arrested.”

Louis laughs quietly, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. “You’re welcome.”

“Also, thank you for letting me sleep here, but not for possibly giving me the plague. I’m not thrilled about that,” Harry says.

Again, Louis shrugs. “Sorry. Goodnight, Harry.”

“’Night, Louis,” Harry says, but he doesn’t lie back down until Louis steps forward and pulls the thin door to the cabin closed. As soon as he does, Harry reaches under the blanket and pulls out a hundred and fifty dollars, tucking the rolled up bills inside the flap of his briefs. Imagine, swimming all that way for a bet, and then losing the money. Especially now that he’s going to have to pay to go to the doctor.

It’s an odd night’s sleep on the water. Once, when Harry was a teenager, he spent the night on a waterbed, but this is nothing like that. Occasionally, he feels like he’s falling, and wakes up panicking for a few seconds until he remembers where he is. When the sun rises, Harry is finally getting to sleep, so he buries his face in the pillow and ignores it. Louis will wake him up when he’s ready to take him to the dock.

————

“Harry,” Louis’ urgent voice cuts through his dream. “Did you fuck with the anchor or something last night?”

Rolling onto his back, Harry rubs his eyes. “What? No.”

“You didn’t pull it up or mess with it?”

“No,” Harry says, sitting up. “Why?”

“I don’t know. I guess it must’ve come loose and we drifted or something, ’cause we’re not anchored off the inlet. There’s no dock, but we’re like, close to land, so…”

“Seriously? You don’t know where we are?” Harry asks, throwing back the blankets, and scooting to the end of the bed.

“Can you?” Louis gestures to Harry’s crotch, and Harry smiles proudly. His dick is one of his favorite body parts; It’s nice when it’s appreciated by others. Still, he pulls on his pink briefs.

“How can you not know where we are?” Harry stands, adjusting his semi, and Louis scoffs. “I just woke up.”

Louis ignores him and climbs out onto the deck, so Harry follows him up, looking around. The boat is just as close to the shore as it was from the dock, if not closer, and there’s marshland, which is somewhat familiar, but there are no docks or other boats. They must’ve floated into a preserved wildlife area or something.

“I think we drifted north?” Louis slides aviator sunglasses over his eyes, and says. “My phone died, so I plugged it in. But we can probably check in a minute.”

“Oh,” Harry says, and watches Louis fiddle with something on the pedestal beside the steering wheel or helm or whatever it’s called.

“Shit. Seriously?” Louis smacks his hand against the wheel and slowly lowers his head down until he knocks his forehead on it. “The engine isn’t working.”

“Thought this was a sailboat,” Harry says, looking up at the empty mast.

“Haha. It is, but boats like this have engines too, and that’s what I used. I don’t know a lot about sailing.”

“Me neither,” Harry says. “I don't know anything about it.”

“Okay, so, it’s fine. My phone’s probably charged enough now,” Louis says, going back below deck. This time Harry doesn’t follow, feeling sure that Louis will bring his phone out for a better signal.

A few minutes later, Harry climbs down to find Louis sitting on the little sofa.

“Nothing’s working. None of the outlets. The fridge. Lights. Nothing.”

“What… What do we do?” Harry asks, uselessly flipping a light switch.

“Would Niall call someone? Like, if you don’t show up or call by a certain time?”

Harry nods. “He’s probably sleeping. Expecting me to call and wake him up.”

“Okay,” Louis says. “Okay, um… We have everything we need, like food and water and necessities. Hopefully Niall will call someone—”

“The Coast Guard,” Harry helpfully supplies.

“Or anyone. But they’ll come find us.”

“How is nothing working?” Harry asks, following Louis below deck.

“No clue,” Louis says, lying down on the little sofa. “Maybe we got struck by lightning.”

Staring at him, Harry drops onto the bench across from him. “It didn’t storm. It hasn’t rained at all. How’s that supposed to happen?”

“I don’t know, Harry. I’m not a weatherman.”

“Meteorologist.”

“Dude,” Louis says, turning his head to look right at him. “Shut up.”

Harry shuts up.

Sweatpants would be nice. It’s not super cold. The weather is nice, actually, with clear skies and sun, and typically Harry’s pro-nudity, but Louis is wearing sweatpants. Dark grey ones. And they look comfy and warm and soft and they drape over Louis’ dick, drawing attention to it in a way that Harry can’t tell the intent. Which is why he wants sweatpants. Then he could lose the pink briefs, which dried stiffly overnight, and without underwear on, he knows he could draw Louis’ attention.

“Remember when you offered me something to wear?” Harry sucks his lower lip between his teeth, ducking his chin and looking through his lashes.

“Stop staring,” Louis says, and Harry’s mouth drops open. Not that he was being discreet, but he wasn’t expecting that response. “I have something. Hold on.”

Harry watches while Louis opens the door to his room, frowning at the oddly shaped bed. After a moment, during which only the curve of Louis’ ass is visible to Harry while the rest of him is hidden by the wall, Louis emerges with a wrinkled pair of cut off sweatpants.

“They’re clean,” Louis says, shaking them out. “I didn’t think I’d be around people. So I just stuffed my clean laundry into a trash bag.”

“Okay, um, thank you,” Harry says, taking the shorts. “I keep my laundry in a basket.”

“I’m sure you do,” Louis says, stepping up into the sunlight.

As soon as Louis is out of sight, Harry strips out of his briefs, tucking his money into the front, and hiding them under the edge of the mattress. The cut-off shorts are a much lighter grey than the pair of loosely fitting sweatpants Louis is wearing, and when Harry pulls them on, he finds they’re quite snug. He makes sure his dick is displayed in an aesthetically appealing, yet still properly lewd way, and ascends the stairs.

“In a way, those are worse than your see-through pink bikini,” Louis says when he turns around. Even with his sunglasses on, he squints, and Harry wished he had a pair to protect his eyes. It’s bright out.

“Those are briefs,” Harry says, looking down at the shadow his soft cock makes. “Where’s the bathroom?”

“Piss over the side,” Louis says, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. “No way the head is working when nothing else is.”

“Gross.”

“Yes. It is,” Louis says.

Harry holds onto the railing with one hand, standing at the top of the ladder he climbed the night before, and pushed his shorts down with his free hand. It takes him a minute to get past being gun shy, but the wind blows and he pees, laughing at the arc it makes before it hits the water.

Dick tucked in, Harry carefully sits on the bench and lets himself look. The trees on the bank come right up to the water in places, curving over so that it’d be nearly impenetrable. No telling what’s on the other side either.

“What if I, um… need to, um…”

“If you can’t hold it,” Louis starts, pausing and looking at Harry over his sunglasses. “We’d have to… I guess we’d have to… We could inflate the dinghy, paddle it over there.” He points at the nearest bit of sand — a beach, Harry supposes, though it’s not much bigger than the sailboat — and says, “And if you’ve ever been camping…”

“Oh,” Harry says, cheeks turning pink. “Never mind.”

“Yeah, hopefully, Niall will wake up and call someone. Or maybe somebody will see us.”

“Who’s gonna see us? There’s no one around.”

“True. I don’t know… Maybe we should go to the end of the, um… the trees there.” Louis points in the opposite direction, and Harry turns to look, shading his eyes with his hands. It’s not far, but there’s no way Harry would swim it, and he doesn’t know how far he could paddle on an empty stomach. Without coffee. Or a bathroom.

“Are you serious?” Harry asks instead. “What’s that gonna do?”

Louis lifts the bench across from Harry and says, “Flares. Maybe we’re closer to the inlet than we realize and someone will see.”

“Okay, yeah. That makes sense,” Harry says, imagining hours on the water, paddling and going mere inches. “Do you have a hat or something?”

“Yeah, we’ll be gone a while. Sunscreen’s probably a good idea. Shirts, too.” Louis leads the way below deck. “And coffee.”

They wind up eating cereal, and Harry borrows a white t-shirt, a pair of oversized yellow sunglasses that he doesn’t think belong to Louis, a Louisville snapback that he thinks does, and the rest of a bottle of sunscreen that’s two months past it’s expiration date. It’s enough for his nose.

Louis climbs down first, into the dinghy, and Harry tosses the paddles to him. It’s reassuring watching him moving gracefully in the little boat, tucking a cooler in the back corner alongside the package of signal flares. Even if he doesn’t know what he’s doing, he looks like it, and he thought to bring lunch. He helps Harry from the ladder to the dinghy, pointing to the other side.

“Sit up there,” Louis says, tapping his paddle on the end of the seat up front. “I’ll steer from the back.”

Using his paddle, Louis pushes the dinghy away from the boat, and they start towards the edge of the trees. At first, they’re out of sync with each other, but they get it after a few minutes, paddling and coasting, paddling and coasting, while Louis keeps them heading in the right direction. It’s exhausting and they’ve barely started.

“See that beach?” Louis points to a short stretch of sand with a fallen tree in the center. “Stopping there.”

“Okay,” Harry says, paddling as Louis steers them that way.

They don’t talk much, except for Louis giving instructions occasionally to move them closer to the beach. They get there faster than Harry expected, and it’s much too early for lunch. As they approach the sand, the water clears some, and Harry watches crabs and fish darting away at the sight of the boat. There’s a splash, and Harry looks up to see Louis wading his way around to the front of the boat, holding onto the rope on the side and guiding it in. Harry puts his paddle beside Louis’, tucking the end under the seat so it won’t fall out.

“Sit,” Louis says as he passes Harry, reaching his hand down and circling his fingers around Harry’s ankle. Harry sits. And Louis pulls the boat through the shallow water to the beach. “Okay, you can jump off now. Help me get the boat onto the sand.”

Even in a few inches of water, the boat is wobbly and hard to move around in, but Harry quickly scoots to the side and throws his legs over, sliding down into the cold water and helping haul the boat ashore. They pull it all the way up into the sand, and Louis grabs the oars, tossing one to Harry. He reaches into the cooler and pulls out a roll of toilet paper, wrapping it around his hand and giving the wad of tissue to Harry.

“Take your paddle. You go that way,” Louis says, pointing at Harry, who takes a moment to figure out what’s going on. Louis jerks his thumb in the opposite direction. “I’ll go this way.”

“Okay…” Harry stands there, paddle in one hand, tissue in the other. “How will I know how far to go?”

Louis sighs, looking at the woods around the beach. It’s fairly dense, and neither of them have shoes on. “I’m just going to sing. I’ll sing, you sing, so we can judge how far away from each other we are. We go as far as we can, I guess, and then just… dig a hole. And, you know, bury it.”

“Okey dokey,” Harry says.

“Yeah…” Louis takes his sunglasses off and hangs them from the loose collar of his t-shirt, and says, “Coming out of my cage and I’ve been doing just fine.”

“Oh!”

“Gotta gotta be down because I want it all,” Louis sings, raising his eyebrows and spinning on his heel. He walks towards the tree line, raising his voice as he goes. “It started out with a kiss, how did it end up like this?”

“It was only a kiss, it was only a kiss,” Harry sings back, walking the other way.

Harry stumbles over vines and branches, singing his heart out, turning now and then to look back at the boat. When he can’t see the boat, which doesn’t take long considering how thick the growth is, he stops to listen. He can’t hear Louis, which means Louis hopefully can’t hear him. It is not the most embarrassing bathroom situation Harry’s ever been in, so he takes it all in stride, and he sings his way back to the beach and the boat, where Louis is waiting with hand sanitizer. A king among men.

They push the boat back into the water, climbing in once they’re deep enough, and paddling towards the edge of the trees. When they get there, the sun is high in the sky, and Harry’s arms are no longer his own. They’ve become extensions of his paddle.

“Let’s get around the end here, then hopefully we’ll know which way to point the flare,” Louis says, paddling harder. Harry follows suit and they pass the last few trees on their left.

The inlet where he first climbed onto the yacht leads to the ocean. Harry’s been out there before, and just past the trees at the end is a buoy and a marker and past that, you can see up and down the beach. Hotels and large houses that meet the dunes, and dunes that meet the sand. There’s a natural area nearby where trees grow right up to the beach, but on the other side of the much wider dunes there, is a parking lot.

When they pass the last few trees on their left, they lift their paddles, and Harry looks left, then he looks right, then left again. The way the land curves along the water makes it difficult to see much, but there is no land visible across the water, and it looks like the ocean. He looks again, south he reckons, and turns to Louis. “Where the fuck are we?”

“Jesus,” Louis says, shading his eyes, even with sunglasses and a hat on. “I don’t see anything.”

“How far did we drift in… What? Six hours?” Harry shakes out his arms, then takes off his hat, combing his fingers through his sweaty, dirty hair. It’s so far back to the boat. The inflatable dinghy floats, no longer moving forward into the ocean, water lapping at the sides. Harry checks that his paddle is secure, and jumps overboard. Cold water touches every inch of his skin at once, making him forget which way is up, but he figures it out, kicking to the surface, gasping for air.

“Harry!” Louis shouts, holding his paddle out for Harry to grab hold. “What the fuck?”

Harry lets go of the paddle and sinks into the water, swimming the rest of the distance to the dinghy. “Sorry. Was just hot and I was pissed off.”

“And wanted to drown yourself?” Louis asks, leaning down to grab hold of Harry’s t-shirt. “I’m gonna count to three, and you kick like you’re swimming hard.”

Harry nods, and Louis hooks his hands underneath both of Harry’s arms and, on the count of three, when Harry kicks his feet, Louis hauls him out of the water. He pulls Harry over the side and into the inflatable boat, rolling out of the way just in time, so that Harry lands beside him and not on top of him.

“Holy shit,” Harry says, panting. “Sorry.”

“What the fuck?” Louis repeats, leaning over the side, cupping water in his hands, and splashing it on his face.

“I wanted to go swimming,” Harry explains.

“So you jumped overboard?”

“Yeah. Sorry. I didn’t think—”

“Clearly,” Louis says, sticking his paddle back in the water. “Let’s get back to the boat.”

Rather than try to explain further, Harry saves his energy for paddling. It probably wouldn’t make sense if he said it outloud anyway. The tide is rising as they paddle back, so the current carries them, making the trip easier than the first half. Still, when they reach the boat, and Louis grabs hold of the rope, Harry thinks he might not be able to climb the ladder, his arms are worn out. But Louis climbs up first, and his ass makes it easy for Harry to follow.

“Now what?” Harry asks, flopping onto the bench as soon as he steps off the ladder. “Wait and hope someone finds us?”

Louis sits across from him, frowning. He takes off his hat and sunglasses, rubbing his eyes and combing his fingers through his messy, sweat damp hair. “I don’t know. I thought we’d see more than… I thought we’d see like, hotels or another boat or something.”

“Me too,” Harry says. Though they couldn’t really see much when they looked south. “Do you think we drifted north or south or like… out to sea?”

“North, man. The current flows north, and once we drifted out of the inlet, we would’ve just gone with it.”

“I’m hungry,” Harry says, patting his empty stomach. “Time is it?”

“No clue, man. Sometime in the afternoon,” Louis says, pointing to the sun. He stands and waves for Harry to follow. “Come on. We should eat.”

Louis pulls everything out of the little refrigerator and freezer, and while he decides what needs to go, Harry makes them sandwiches. There’s more food than they’ll need, and once Harry’s stomach is full, he’s able to think a little more clearly.

“So, we wait,” Harry says.

“I’m not paddling anywhere anytime soon,” Louis responds, squeezing his shoulder and shaking out his arms.

“I don’t want to paddle anywhere ever again. Are you sure you can’t sail the boat?”

“I can sail the boat. I choose not to,” Louis says, climbing out onto the deck.

“What?”

“I know a little bit,” Louis says when Harry follows.

Not knowing anything at all about sailing, Harry figures it can’t be that hard. He climbs up on the bench and steps up on top of the boat, carefully walking to the mast and looking at the rolled up sail. “A little bit,” Harry says.

“My boss taught me some, but it makes me nervous, so I don’t do it.”

“It makes you nervous, so you don’t do it?” Harry asks, not quite believing him. “But you could, technically, sail us out of here, and like, just follow the coast until we get back home.”

“That or we could capsize and drown,” Louis says.

“We have life jackets. We won’t drown.”

“Who’s coming to rescue us then?”

Harry shrugs. “All I’m saying is I don’t want to be stuck here any longer than I have to.”

“In a hurry to self-isolate in your apartment?” Louis asks.

“Ugh. I forgot about the plague.”

“Stop calling it that. The plague is a real thing.”

“Whatever. Just because you want to be all alone on a boat doesn’t mean I do.”

“Well, hopefully Niall will pull through, then.” Louis looks up at him and when Harry slaps his hand against the rolled up sail, Louis shakes his head and disappears back below deck. The door to his cabin is closed when Harry follows him to try to continue the conversation, and despite the fact that he can obviously hear Harry, Louis doesn’t respond to anything he says. Eventually, he gives up and goes back up top. They were out in the sun for so long, but his skin isn’t pink at all, so Harry takes off his shirt and rolls up his shorts, laying on the cushioned bench and falling asleep in the late afternoon.

He wakes up stiff and sore and still tired, blinking up at Louis, who’s standing over him, surrounded by pink and purple light.

“Ooh, pretty,” Harry says, rubbing his eyes and sitting up. The sun is setting behind the trees and he’s awake just in time to watch it.

Louis sits beside him, resting his arms on the back of the bench. “Forty-eight hours.”

“Huh?”

“I want to wait until it’s been forty-eight hours. Give them a chance to find us,” Louis says, scratching at his beard. He turns slightly, dropping his hands into his lap. “Not tomorrow, but the next morning. If we haven’t been rescued, I’ll try to sail south.”

“Okay, but no capsizing,” Harry says.

Louis stills, shaking his head. “Have to wait and see.”

———

They are not rescued the following day. And they don’t talk about it. After breakfast, they paddle to the nearest beach and sing “Mr Brightside” at the top of their lungs while tromping through the trees in opposite directions. While Harry is using his paddle to push aside vines and brush on the way back to the beach, he sees something slithering past him in his peripheral vision. He screams, crashing through the trees and doesn’t stop until he’s waist deep in the water.

From the shore beside the boat, Louis watches him curiously. “What’d you see?”

“Snake, I think!” Harry shivers and wraps his arms around himself.

“Thought it might’ve been a bear,” Louis says, pushing the boat into the water and hopping on board. “This close to the water, it was probably an alligator or a water moccasin.”

Harry throws himself forward in the water, swimming as fast as he can towards the sound of Louis’ loud cackle. He’s able to push off of the sand and pull himself into the dinghy, though he lands even less gracefully than he did the day before when Louis hauled him out of the ocean.

“Jesus, fuck. That scared the shit out of me,” Harry says, clambering to sit up.

“Really?” Louis smirks, passing Harry’s paddle to him.

Harry rolls his eyes. “Poop jokes.”

“Timely poop jokes,” Louis says. “Paddle harder or the snake’ll catch us!”

Harry paddles harder, ignoring Louis’ laughter behind him. “I don’t care if you’re kidding. That was scary.”

“That’s why you have the paddle and your beautiful singing voice,” Louis says.

“Bear and snake protection?” Harry scowls at Louis over his shoulder.

“Better than nothing.”

The next morning, when they still have not been rescued, Harry sings so loudly that Louis laughs instead of singing along with him. He bangs his paddle against the trees, and doesn’t see any animals, but Louis manages to scare him anyway once he’s back in the boat and thinks he’s safe. They’re just getting out of the shallows, when Louis smacks his paddle on the surface of the water and yells, “Snake!”

Harry tries his hardest to give him the silent treatment, but Louis seems to enjoy it, humming to himself, and singing quietly while he moves around the boat. And he doesn’t know what he expected the process of getting ready to sail the boat to be like, but it happens much faster than he would’ve thought. There are a lot of ropes, and more than one sail, and many other things that Harry doesn’t know the name or the purpose of, but eventually Louis tells him to raise the anchor. And then he has to show him how to do it.

The wind catches the sail, and whether or not he knows what he’s doing, Louis smoothly maneuvers them out onto the ocean heading south. It seems easiest to stay out of his way, so Harry does, and water flies past beneath them. They aren’t sailing long before Harry sees his first dolphin. It breaches the surface, swimming alongside the boat and playing in the wake.

“Where the hell are we?” Harry asks the dolphin.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Louis says.

“I was talking to the dolphin.”

“Ooh!” Louis looks over that side of the boat, and says, “Oh, wow…”

Grinning, Harry looks again to find at least six or seven of them playing behind the boat. “So cool. I wonder how long they’ll stay with us.”

Louis shrugs, tightening some rope that Harry would ask the name of, but he doesn’t really care. The wind picks up as they move south, and Harry makes himself wait until he’s absolutely sure they’ve been going the same direction for at least an hour before saying something.

“When do you think we’ll get there?” Harry asks, kicking his bare feet up onto the metal railing behind the bench and laying down.

“Where?” Louis asks, frowning at him and sweeping his arm around in a half-circle. “We’re traveling at about five knots. I figure we’ve gone maybe ten or twelve miles.”

“Oh my god, why’s it so slow?” Harry whines, throwing his arm over his eyes.

“It’s a small sailboat, Harry. Top speed is like, seven knots.”

“What does that mean?”

Rolling his eyes, Louis says, “Not fast enough for you, guaranteed.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Craning his neck, Harry scowls at him until he answers.

“Means you’re a spoiled brat,” Louis snaps.

“Fuck you too.”

“I really, really don’t think so.”

“Lame,” Harry retorts. “And boring.”

Louis hums, ignoring him. When Harry opens his mouth to ask again because there’s still no sign of another boat or anything, Louis excitedly says, “Oh! You know what we didn’t try?”

“What?” Harry sits up, ready to do whatever it is.

“You should ask your mom to come get you.”

“Clever,” Harry says, crossing his arms and leaning back to look up at the sky.

They don’t speak to each other until Louis says, “Come hold us steady for a second.”

“No, no, no.” Harry shakes his head and his finger, just to be sure Louis understands he wants nothing to do with the actual operation of the boat.

“Fine. Guess I can piss right here,” Louis says, looking pointedly at Harry, who’s sitting fairly close to him. “You’re into watersports, right?”

Harry stares at him, cheeks heating. Belatedly, he rushes out, “No!”

While Louis snickers, Harry takes the WTFWHEEL and does his best to keep it from spinning out of his hand. As soon as Louis finishes, Harry pees off the back of the boat too.

“Is the wind picking up?” Harry asks.

“Yeah,” Louis says. “Do me a favor?”

Narrowing his eyes, Harry says, “Depends.”

“Go below and, in the little cabinet under the bench, is a pair of binoculars.”

“Oh, okay,” Harry agreed, carefully climbing down the few steps. Right where Louis said they would be, Harry finds them, along with a box of books full of maps that he leaves alone. He climbs back on deck and, instead of handing the binoculars to Louis, he holds them to his eyes and adjusts the focus. “How far do these things see?”

“As far as your eyes do,” Louis answers shortly.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

“You should be able to see something about fifteen miles away like it’s right in front of you,” Louis says, reaching a hand out for the binoculars, but Harry doesn’t give them to him.

“I can’t see shit.”

“Take the lens caps off.”

“I did. I mean, all I see is water and trees and some clouds.”

“Give them to me,” Louis insists, and Harry does, rolling his eyes as he sits back down on the bench. With his sunglasses perched on top of his head, Louis holds the binoculars to his eyes. “What the fuck?”

“Right? So weird,” Harry says, taking the binoculars back and looking again. The clouds ahead are much darker than the few wisps of white they’ve seen so far. “What do we do?”

Louis shrugs. “All we can do is keep going south. Eventually we’ll get home.”

“Yeah, but what if we don’t?”

“What?”

“Like, what if this is some parallel universe,” Harry offers, letting his mind wander. “Like an unpopulated world.”

Snorting loudly, Louis shakes his head. “Whatever you say, Harry.”

“Do you think we should be sailing towards those clouds?”

“I… Should we find a place to anchor? Not like we can check the weather, but the last time I looked, the forecast said the past few days were supposed to be cold and cloudy, not warm and sunny, and there weren’t any storms expected.”

“Dunno. Those look like storm clouds to me,” Harry says, pointing at them. “We could stop here. Maybe it’s going inland, and we can wait for it to pass.”

“Storms usually travel up the coast. We could go west. See if we can go around it. Or go north. Try to find a place to dock that way.”

“Go back the way we came?” Harry pouts.

“I don't know, Harry! Would you rather go towards the dark, and what are, frankly, ominous clouds? You’re supposed to tie the fucking boat up during a storm, but I don’t see any docks. Do you?”

“Shit. Sorry. I wasn’t thinking.” Harry gets to his feet, looking south through the binoculars and slowly turning east. The clouds—Louis is right, they are ominous looking—seem to go on forever. There’s no going around them. “What’s north of us?”

“No fucking clue, man.” Louis loosens the sail, and goes below deck, returning before Harry can follow with the box of books and maps. He hands the box to Harry, and folds a map out on the table, pointing to the familiar curve of the coast. “Yeah. See? You swam to the boat here. And the only natural areas around are the few state parks, but even there they have buildings and shit. Like, you can tell people have been there. We’ve traveled for hours, probably close to twenty miles.”

“Wow,” Harry says, maybe he’s dreaming.

While Louis turns the boat around, Harry sits, flipping through an old book of maps, full of expired coupons for restaurants and attractions. On one page, there’s a large picture of a cartoon owl that says ‘Give A Hoot! Don’t Pollute!’ And Harry frowns.

“Have you seen any litter?” Harry asks, putting the book back in the box.

Louis looks over the side of the boat, as if fully expecting to see a plastic bottle floating by. Slowly, he says, “No.”

“You know what?” Harry snaps his fingers, and says, “I bet I knocked myself out when I hit my head and this is just a dream or a hallucination or something.”

“Yeah? What about me?” Louis rolls his eyes, looking over his shoulder at the clouds behind them.

Harry shrugs. “What about you?”

“Why am I in your hallucination? I’d rather not be, so you could just hallucinate me out?”

“I can try,” Harry says, closing his eyes in concentration. While he’s at it, he pictures himself waking up, but neither thing has happened by the time he opens his eyes again. “Maybe if I go to sleep.”

“You do that. Because I might need your help in a little while, and I’d rather you get some rest.” Louis shoos him towards the doors and Harry goes below, curling up on his bed and falling asleep fast.

————

“Up! Wake up, Harry!”

Harry sits up, rubbing his eyes and slowly realizing he’s still on the boat. “Still hallucinating.”

“Nope! Get up here and help me figure out what to do,” Louis orders, stepping up on deck before he finishes talking.

And while it does still feel like it must be a dream or a hallucination, it feels real too. Harry joins Louis up top, looking south, frowning at the clouds in the distance. “Are they closer?”

“Yeah, and I don’t know what to do.”

“Go faster,” Harry says.

“I can’t go any faster.” Louis hands him the binoculars and says, “We can either keep following the coast and hope the storm turns west. We can find a place to anchor, tie the boat up as well as we can, and ride it out below deck. Or we could head east, out to sea.”

“This is like one of those choose your own adventure books,” Harry says, looking back at the storm.

“I think our best bet is to keep going for now, and be on the lookout for a safe place to spend the storm.”

“Then why didn’t you just do that?”

“Because I didn’t want to just make the decision without talking to you. And I’ll need your help, no matter what we do.”

Harry scoffs, crossing his arms and cocking his hip to the side. “What am I supposed to do?”

“Depends. If we keep going? Use the binoculars to scout ahead for an inlet or somewhere we can tie up the boat,” Louis says, pointing to the binoculars in Harry’s hand. “What do you want to do?”

“Keep going. Obviously,” Harry says, rolling his eyes. “We’re more likely to find a dock or something, right?”

“Sure,” Louis replies, but it’s clear he doesn’t believe they’ll find anything.

Harry ignores him, looking through the binoculars at the coast, searching for someplace to park. Or whatever. They sail for a few hours, finding a few places that look promising until they get close and they don’t seem deep enough for the boat.

“This sucks,” Harry says, dropping onto the bench. “We’re about to get rained on.”

“We’re about to get caught in a fucking hurricane,” Louis snaps, tightening one of the ropes.

“Are you serious?” Harry turns to look back at the storm. It just looks like a mass of dark grey clouds, but there are sheets of rain visible now.

“I don’t know. Whatever it is, it’s fucking huge. We have to find a place to hunker down.”

Sputtering a laugh, Harry says, “Hunker down.”

Louis stares at him for a moment, then snatches the binoculars from him, looking ahead between doing whatever else he does to the sails and the steering wheel. It probably has an official nautical name, but Harry doesn’t care enough to ask. Instead, he goes below, crawling into bed again.

#we're on boat au #unfinished wip #genieloveslarry #snippet

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