sadie 🦥

“absolutely not!” you yelled as you threw a pillow at your best friend who sat on the other end of the couch.

“but it’s for a scene! i don’t want to kiss the girl on camera and have no idea what i’m doing!” austin chuckled, throwing the pillow back at you.

“i don’t care what it’s for. i’m not letting my first kiss be some kind of practice session for you!” you giggled, once again tossing the pillow at the boy.

austin sat up as he caught the pillow in his hands, “so you haven’t had your first kiss either?”

you suddenly felt shy, pulling the blanket farther over your body. “don’t you think i would’ve told you, dumbass?” you cockily smiled as you turned your attention to the tv.

“then we can practice on each other… so it just won’t just be for me, it’ll be for you too,” austin proposed and you could hear the hopefulness that filled his voice but you quickly shot his idea down.

“austin, for the final time the answer is no!” you laughed, grabbing another pillow from behind you and tossing it at him, more harshly this time. he knew you were being serious with him when you used his whole name instead of his nickname.

austin let out a clearly fake screeching sound as he grabbed his arm where the pillow had hit him, “that hurt!”

“did not,” you rolled your eyes at him before looking back to the tv.

you felt quick shuffling on the couch as you turned to see austin coming at you with pillows in his hand.

“what are y-“ you started but were quickly cut off when a pillow hit you in the face.

“getting revenge,” austin laughed, yelling in a deeper voice than his usual one. you swatted the pillows away from you as he continued to playfully hit you with them.

“aus, stop!” you yelled as you giggled uncontrollably. you finally got a hold of one of the pillows austin had in his hand and started hitting him back, but it wasn’t any use because you were sprawled out on the couch and he was standing over you.

“ow!” you yelped, causing austin to stop immediately.

“wha-what did i-“ the concerned look on his face disappeared as a smile appeared on yours. you swiftly pulled his arm down so he would land on the couch beside you before attacking him with the pillows he was just using.

you stood up at the same angle he was at before as he writhed on the couch, blocking the incoming pillows from his face. “you tricked me, smart ass!” austin chuckled out in a surprised voice.

“you might be smarter…” austin started, “but i’m stronger!” you screamed as austin pulled you down onto the couch, the pillows falling out of your hand and onto the floor.

austin held your arms down against the couch as you wiggled underneath him, trying to get out of his hold but it was no use.

“okay! i give up!” you giggled, hoping his grip on your wrists would loosen up but it didn’t. as you stopped wiggling around you finally realized what an awkward position the two of you were in. the boy’s legs were on either side of your waist and his face was only hovered a couple of inches away from yours.

in both of your fifteen years of life, the two of you had never been this close to each other. it was almost as if there was a new tension in the room that had never been there before.

“can i kiss you?” austin blurted out, he was so close that you could feel his breath fanning your lips.

you started to wonder if it was really such bad idea after all… if the first kiss sucks as bad as everyone says it does, you wanted to get it over with. and if you were going to embarrass yourself, there’s no other boy you’d rather do it in front of instead of austin.

you nodded your head softly seconds before your lips collided. neither of you had no idea of what you were doing, but the two of you kept at it until both of you got the hang of it.

5 years later

austin’s career had absolutely flourished and he had brought you along every second of the way. you were beyond proud of him, he had even just started to rent his own place. he invited his parents and your parents over to celebrate. your family was basically his family and vice versa.

your mother and his mother were best friends for ten years before the both of you were even a thought in their brain. your family and his did everything together since the two of you were babies which is probably why the both of you were inseparable from each other.

both sets of your parents would always say things like,

“y’all bicker like a couple, might as well just be one!”

“you two are definitely going to marry each other one day!”

“can y’all just go ahead and date already?”

austin and you would always just laugh their comments off, never getting defensive because they were forever going to be determined to get the both of you together.

they never found out about the single and only non-platonic thing that ever happened between the two of you, the first kiss. it felt like a lifetime ago to you so you doubted austin even remember it because neither of you ever spoke a word about it after.

“i wanted to talk to you all about something…” austin coughed, sitting his fork down on his plate. the uplifted mood in the room suddenly got serious as everyone zeroed in on austin. “um… you know how i’ve been spending more time with vanessa?”

everyone nodded with a slight smile on their face except you but austin didn’t notice. austin introduced you to vanessa a while ago, you had hung out with the both of them together. she was very nice and the two of you got along well but you always felt a sense of jealousy seeing the two of them together.

they were just friends but that was the thing, friends. you and austin were basically each other’s only friend the first twelve years of your life. of course, as the two of you got older, y’all branched out and made friends with the same sex which was nice… but no other friendship ever compared to you and austin’s.

austin never got as close to another girl as he was with you, and vice versa. until he met vanessa, while he constantly invited you to hang out with them… you slowly started saying no, giving him an excuse because you felt out of place. you felt as if you were intruding and you had never felt like that around austin before.

you knew that there was no logical reason for you to be jealous at your age but you just couldn’t help it. you and austin had a bond like no other and you never wanted that to go away or be replaced.

“i actually asked her to be my girlfriend last week…” austin spoke, a smile rising to his face when he saw the joy on everyone else’s.

you faked a surprised smile but on the inside, you were hurt. not by the fact that he had a girlfriend but by the fact that he didn’t tell you this a week ago. you told him everything because you assumed he did the same to you, but apparently, he didn’t do that anymore.

“that’s amazing!” austin’s dad beamed. through all of austin’s teenage years, he never had a serious relationship with anyone because he was always so busy with acting, hence to why everyone was so excited for him.

“that’s great, aus,” you gave him a tight-lipped smile before squeezing his hand that rested on the table.

the rest of the night went on with ease, everyone was so happy for austin and it showed.

your parents headed out a few minutes before austin’s, congratulating him on the new place and girlfriend before they left. his parents followed a couple of minutes after yours, exchanging hugs by the door before they exited.

austin walked back into the living room where you were currently slipping your shoes back on.

“what are you doing?” austin questioned as if it wasn’t obvious.

“i think i’m gonna get going before it gets too late,” you sent him a light smile as you finished tying your shoe.

“c’mon, we talked about having our own place for years and the whole reason i got a two bedroom was so you could stay with me some nights…” austin spoke sincerely, coming to stand in front of you.

“i’ve got class in the morning,” you reminded him.

“the school is literally right down the road,” austin noted, trying to find any excuse for you to stay.

“my books are at home, smart ass,” you laughed, gently shoving his chest as you stood up from the couch.

“you sure that’s the only reason you don’t want to stay?” austin asked with concern lacing his voice.

you looked up at him with confusion written all over your face. “what other reason would i have, aus?” you questioned as you raised your eyebrows.

a moment of silence passed before austin answered quietly, “you’ve been acting weird ever since i said something about vanessa earlier. i just-“

you rolled your eyes, cutting his words off as you pushed past him and headed for the door.

“y/n!” austin yelled as he grabbed your arm before you got any farther away from him. you turned to look at him, a very apparent annoyed look on your face.

“what?” you blurted out, wanting to get out of his apartment and grip as soon as possible.

“you’re my best friend, right?” austin asked as you rolled your eyes along with throwing your head back in annoyance.

“mhm…” you huffed out, tilting your head.

austin loosened his grip on your arm before asking, “so please just tell me the truth… why have you been in a bad mood ever since i said something about her?” austin paused as you squeezed your eyes shut, once again in annoyance. “don’t try to lie to me either… you’re not very good at it,” austin chuckled.

“it’s just…” you started but were too embarrassed to finish, “it’s nothing… never mind.” you shook your head quickly, trying to turn around to leave but feeling austin’s grip that you had forgotten about still on your wrist.

“nope, you’re lying. i’m not letting you leave until you tell me. i’ll stand here for hours,” austin said the last sentence playfully but you knew he wasn’t joking.

god, did you hate how persistent he was but it was also one of the things you loved most about him.

you stood in silence, trying to gather all of the words you wanted to say but austin interrupted you. “do you… do you have feelings for me?” austin asked in a serious tone of voice.

your jaw dropped and you immediately started shaking your head. “austin, no! absolutely not!” you yelled with a large smile on your face. the question was almost comical to you. you had never really thought of him in that way.

“good because that first kiss…,” austin cheekily smiled as he shook his head playfully.

that was the first time the two of you had ever spoken of it but that meant austin remembered, and for some reason that comforted you.

your jaw dropped once again, snatching your arm from his grip to playfully slap his chest. “was it that horrible?” you laughed as he grabbed your shoulder to keep you from walking away.

“no, no…” austin chuckled, pulling you into a hug, “i was just playing with you,” austin rested his head on top of yours as the both of you came down from the laughter. you wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him closer to you.

the two of you stayed like that for a few seconds, comfortably holding each other, before you decided to answer his question from a few minutes ago. “it’s always just been me and you…” you mumbled into his chest, “things have always been perfect the way that they are… i don’t want things to change…”

austin held you tighter, “nothings going to change between us, y/n… vanessa already knows that. she knows how much you mean to me. i would never let anything come between us… okay?”

“okay,” you replied, austin lifted his head from yours so you would look up at him.

“i promise,” austin spoke softly.

“pinky promise?” you smiled up at him, reminiscing on all of the ‘pinky promises’ the two of you had made when y’all were little.

“pinky promise,” austin grinned as he held his pinky up, wrapping it around yours.

3 years later

austin kept his promise, but it’s not like you never doubted that he wouldn’t. you two didn’t see each other nearly as much as you used to, but you saw him at least twice a month. there were always weekly phone calls, some weeks they were daily. it all depended on how much time the two of you had nowadays, you were both adults with actual lives now.

either way, you were there for him through the good and the bad and on this particular day, it was very bad.

“he’s in his room… i don’t know what to do for him. all he keeps saying is that he wants you… he keeps saying it over and over again…” vanessa rambled as she opened the door. you simply nodded and ran past her.

you could hear his cries through the apartment, the sound broke your heart into pieces.

“aus…” you whispered as you entered the room, seeing him curled up in a ball as he sobbed into a pillow.

“i’m here,” you whispered while crawling in the bed beside him, sitting up against the headboard. “i’m right here,” you repeated, rubbing his back for comfort.

austin removed the pillow from his face, looking up to you with the most sorrowful expression.

“come ‘ere,” you whispered, pulling his body to yours as he laid his head on your chest. you cradled his head while he hid his face in your chest. in that moment you imagined that there wasn’t a worse feeling than having the boy you love falling apart in your arms.

“i love you… shh… i’m right here…” you cooed, holding him as close to you as possible.

there was no denying that you were austin’s safe place. he knew it, you knew it, everyone did… hell, even his own girlfriend did but it didn’t bother her. she knew the bond the two of you had was irreplaceable.

you held austin for what felt like hours until he fell asleep in your arms. you were covered in snot and tears but you didn’t mind at all.

“poor thing…” vanessa muttered as she walked into the bedroom, “do you think he’s going to be okay?”

you nodded your head as you stroked your fingers through austin’s hair. “he will eventually…”

“i fly out tomorrow morning for a new film… i’m not sure what i’m supposed to do…” concern laced through her voice as she sat down on the end of the bed.

“you can’t postpone?” you asked knowing austin would need her here the next few weeks. he’d go crazy if he had to stay here by himself in this state.

vanessa shook her head, “it’s a huge opportunity and i’ve been working on it for months… i think austin would be angrier if i decided to stay. he knows how much this role means to me…”

if it were you, you would have dropped everything to stay with him. it almost seemed ridiculous that she would even think about leaving him.

“i’ll stay with him,” you whispered, keeping your voice low enough so it wouldn’t wake austin.

“you will?” vanessa asked as she perked up a little. you simply nodded your head and gave her a light smile. “that’s great of you, y/n. i think he’d rather be with you right now anyways. he never likes me to see him upset for some reason…”

so you stayed with him, through the agonizingly painful nights that felt like they were never going to end for austin. you held him through his breakdowns, sometimes even breaking down with him.

you spent every single second with him because you knew his mind would wander to dark places if he was left alone. you stayed with him for weeks, sleeping on the futon in his room which wasn’t very comfortable but it allowed you to be by him all night. austin had begged for you to sleep in his bed, saying he would take the futon but you never did.

after a month, you eventually moved into his guest room. the first night you slept in the room went smoothly but the second night austin woke you up by stumbling into your room at two in the morning.

“what’s wrong?” you mumbled, still half asleep.

“can’t sleep… can i sleep in here with you?” austin asked. you couldn’t see him in the dark but you could tell he was upset just by the tone of his voice.

“of course,” you whispered as you scooted from the middle to the farther side of the queen bed.

austin crawled into the other side of the bed, pulling the covers over his long body. you tried to go back to sleep for an hour but you couldn’t with austin’s constant tossing and turning every second. you couldn’t take the boy squirming anymore.

“aus, c’mere,” you whispered, causing austin to scoot closer to you. your bodies weren’t touching but he was close enough for you to reach him. you reached out and cradled his head, fiddling with his blonde hair until he was quickly asleep.

you had sat in the bed with him many nights until he fell asleep. you learned that one of the only ways to help him was playing with his hair. usually once he fell asleep, you’d go crawl onto the futon and go to sleep yourself. but since this was now your own bed and you were exhausted, you fell asleep shortly after him.

the next morning you woke up with your head on austin’s chest and your legs wrapped around his body. you quickly tried to remove yourself but austin’s arms that were wrapped around you held you tighter.

“few more minutes,” austin mumbled, still in the state of being half asleep. so you laid there with him, but those few more minutes turned into a few more hours. the two of you hadn’t slept that good in weeks.

every night after it became a routine. in the middle of the night, austin would join you in your bed, never having to ask now because he knew the answer. you would wake up with your bodies tangled together every morning.

in your minds, you both knew it was wrong but the two of you never brought it up and just let it keep occurring. nothing besides sleep ever happened so that’s how you justified it in your brain.

but everything came to a halt a few months later when vanessa got back from filming. you packed up all of your things that had accumulated at his apartment which was more than you had originally thought.

austin helped you take everything down to your car where it surprisingly all fit inside with a few shoves.

“you gonna be alright without me?” you joked as you closed your trunk. austin shook his head at your remark, chuckling while he brought you in for a hug.

“thank you, y/n… thank you for everything. i couldn’t have gotten through this without you,” austin whispered as he hugged you tighter.

“you don’t have to thank me, aus… i’ll always be here if you need me,” you reassured him.

5 years later

“i got to meet baz at the workshop which was an absolute dream,” austin beamed to you after the waitress placed your food on the table. austin had been in new york for a couple of weeks so the two of you went out for lunch to catch up.

“that’s incredible! did you tell him you went through a phase where you watched romeo and juliet religiously?” you giggled before taking your first bite of food.

“i did actually,” austin chuckled, “i just hope everyone liked what i did… i don’t think i had ever been so nervous for an audition in my life.”

“i’m sure you did amazing as always,” you gave him a reassuring smile.

“enough about me, what have you been up to?” austin asked as he sipped his drink.

“work, work, and more work,” you dramatically sighed.

“how are you and jacob?” austin asked, trying to talk about anything other than himself.

your stomach churned when you heard your boyfriend’s name. you had started dating jacob around three years ago and back then you were head over heels for him… but the past few months had been a hell storm with him which austin knew about.

“i don’t know… he’s been out of town for a few days so we haven’t really been talking. he texts me stuff like ‘good morning’, ‘goodnight’, ‘i love you’… but other than that i never hear from him.”

austin readjusted in his seat, “well, how are you feeling about it?”

“i want to try and work everything out, i really do… but i just feel like things aren’t the same anymore. the only time he wants to see me is when he’s drunk and only wants sex. i think that’s all he uses me for at this point.”

“why don’t you just break it off? he’s an absolute piece of sh-” austin started to ramble but you didn’t want to hear any more of it.

you shook your head and placed your drink down on the table, “it’s not that easy.”

“why is that?” austin questioned, raising his eyebrows. you just continued to shake your head, ignoring his question. “are you in love with him?”

your jaw dropped at the intrusiveness of austin’s words. “are you in love with vanessa?” you joked.

austin stayed quiet as if he was thinking about the answer.

“austin!” you sneered, thinking the answer would be obvious. they had been dating for almost eight years.

“i love her, okay? i do…” austin answered defensively.

“but you’re not in love with her?” you asked softly, not wanting to force an answer out of him but you were still curious.

“how am i even supposed to know that?”

“oh, trust me… you’ll know,” you remarked.

a week later

you had just gotten home from work and sprawled out on the couch until you heard a loud knock on the door.

you quickly made your way to the door, looking through the peephole to see it was austin. your heart rate slowed down as soon as you saw it was him, unlocking the door and opening it.

“aus, you almost gave me a heart att-” you started but you were cut off by austin’s words.

“i got the part! i got the part, y/n!” austin repeated over and over again with a wide grin on his face.

“oh my god!” you screamed as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “that’s fucking amazing!” austin squeezed your body, lifting your feet off of the floor.

“i know! i still can’t believe this is real life!” austin beamed as he sat you back down on the floor, now noticing the tears in your eyes.

“what’s wrong?” austin quickly became concerned but you shook your head as a smile came to your lips.

“i’m just so proud of you!” you cried as he pulled you into another hug.

5 months later

austin had been preparing for the role of elvis for months. he left home a few days after he told you the news about getting the part and started his adventure with baz. austin called you whenever he could to update you on all the surreal things he had witnessed and experienced.

a couple months ago he also informed you that he and vanessa had broken up. you weren’t surprised though, he had been talking to you about breaking things off with her for weeks. he knew things weren’t going to work with them being so far away from each other.

you had also recently, or in austin’s words, finally ended things with your toxic boyfriend. it was a long time coming but you knew it had to be done. you thought you would’ve been heartbroken after but you actually felt free.

“i wish you were here with me. it’s unreal, everything is unreal…” austin’s voice echoed out of your phone as you got into your bed. the tone of his voice sounded a little different from constantly talking in one that wasn’t his.

“i wish i could be there too, aus,” you muttered, pulling your comforter over your body. austin had been begging you to fly to australia for weeks. it was currently out of question for you since you were so busy with your job.

“do you not miss me?” austin blurted out of nowhere which made you giggle

“of course i do, silly… but i can’t just up and leave anytime i want to,” you reminded him for what felt like the twentieth time. you missed the boy more than you’d ever admit to him. the two of you had never been separated for this long and it was taking a toll on the both of you.

“but y/n…” austin playfully whined through the phone which caused a small smile to appear on your face.

“austin, just give me a few weeks and i’ll see what i can do…”

so you did just that, you talked to your boss who gave you the thumbs up. austin was very excited when you told him the news, of course, you left out the part where you spent all of your vacation days on him.

but by the time your flight came around, covid was in full effect and your flight was canceled. you repeatedly try to book other flights for months but they all ended up being canceled. filming got postponed for austin due to some of the cast contracting the virus.

austin was cooped up in his hotel room obsessing over elvis while you were cooped up in your small apartment for months. the two of you face timed frequently to cope with the newfound loneliness the both of you had never experienced but it never compared to the feeling of seeing each other in person.

8 months later

after what felt like an eternity, you were finally reunited with austin after being apart for over a year. the filming of elvis had resumed a few months back but austin got sent home for a short break.

he arrived home on friday and had to leave monday morning. he wanted to spend every single second with you but he knew he needed to see his other family and friends so he invited a few of them over to catch up the night before he left.

you were of course invited because he didn’t let you leave his side the whole weekend. austin even talked you into staying in his guest bedroom while he was home which brought back a few memories from years prior.

although the night was supposed to be spent with austin mingling with everyone, he spent it beside you. the time that the two of you spent apart only drew you closer than you initially were.

the two of you were glued together throughout the whole night. austin’s family and friends instantly picked up on it. they noticed the often subtle touching, the staring at each other that went on for a bit too long… austin couldn’t keep his eyes off of you and you couldn’t keep yours off of him. the two of you focused in on the other so much that you unknowingly started to imitate their body language… while the both of you were oblivious to it, no one else in the room was.

everyone started to pile out as it got late except for one of your mutual friends, ashley.

“why in the hell did my dad ask if me and you were finally dating?” austin chuckled as he entered the living room where the two of you were sitting.

you let out a giggle, shrugging your shoulders before sipping the wine glass that was in your hand.

“so y’all aren’t together?” ashley asked in a surprised tone which caused you to almost choke on your wine.

austin sat beside you on the couch as the both of you simultaneously shook your head. ashley looked shocked for some reason you couldn’t seem to make out.

“why would you think that?” austin asked, pulling the blanket that was on your body onto his as well, throwing his arm around your shoulders so that you would be closer to him.

“i mean…” ashley pointed to the both of you that were now basically cuddled together on the couch, “it looks kind of obvious…”

“i promise you, it’s not like that,” you snorted at the accusation, your head falling onto austin’s chest as you laughed. out of all the years that you’d known austin, you never felt anything more than pure platonic love for him. of course you thought he was attractive, you were sure every girl did, but you never thought any further into it.

austin would never admit to it but he did have a crush on you for years when the two of you were teenagers. it was just a silly teenage crush that eventually went away when he started dating vanessa. he had of course thought about being with you romantically, which he thought every man did with their female friends, but he always pushed the thought to the back of his mind.

ashley’s interest was now peeked, “so you’re telling me nothing has ever happened between the two of you?”

you quickly looked up to austin whose gaze caught yours, the both of you immediately started laughing. you were both thinking about the same thing, that damned first kiss.

“what?” ashley yelled, frustrated that she wasn’t in on the supposed inside joke, “tell me now!”

“we actually had our first kiss together,” austin explained through breathy laughs.

ashley waited for the both of you to stop your hysterical laughing before she spoke again, “when was that?”

“forever ago,” you smiled before taking another sip of your wine.

“nothing has ever happened since then?” ashley asked and the both of you responded by shaking your heads. “why don’t y’all kiss now and see what happens?”

you only laughed at the suggestion while austin looked shocked. “what is this? are we fifteen again playing truth or dare?” austin asked while taking the wine glass out of your hand and taking a sip from it.

“i actually think it’s a great idea,” you smiled up to austin which caused him to shake his head vigorously.

“your letting the wine speak for you,” austin retorted as he now smiled down at you.

“austin, i think you’re just scared to kiss her,” ashley chimed in which made austin’s jaw playfully drop.

“am not!” austin defended, looking from ashley to you.

“then do it…” you whispered, austin’s blue eyes boring into yours. austin hesitated at first but eventually brought his lips down to yours for a split second before pulling away.

“you call that a ki-” you sarcastically started to ask but you were cut off by his lips returning to yours, harsher this time. austin’s plush lips meshed with yours perfectly as you tilted your head to get a better angle.

both of your whole worlds felt like they paused in those short ten seconds. you had never understood the saying ‘feeling butterflies’ until that moment.

austin’s hand came up to your face to cup your cheek. he held your face as if you were a piece of fragile glass. no one had ever touched you so gently. you felt safer in his hands than you had ever felt before.

it was as if both of you were experiencing a new high. you never wanted the feeling he gave you to go away and neither did austin. but austin eventually came down from the high, remembering his friend sitting across the room. austin slowly pulled his lips away from yours but he would’ve given anything to solely return them to yours in that moment.

you had just experienced a feeling that you had been unknowingly searching for your entire life. it’s always been him, you thought to yourself. the love you had always searched for, it had always been right in front of you. ‘the one’ you had always heard your friends talk about, was right under your nose.

you were already so deep into thought that when ashley began clapping it immediately snapped you out of it.

“well, did y’all feel anything? it sure looked like you did,” ashley smiled over to the two of you.

your mind started to think back through all of the years you and austin had been friends, best friends. the euphoric feeling was no longer in your body at that point as worry clouded your brain very quickly.

“not a thing…” you muttered, the second austin heard the tone of your voice he knew it was a lie.

austin shook his head, “nothing here either…”

the three of you engaged in random conversation for the next few minutes, pretending as if the kiss never happened… but it weighed so heavy on your mind that you thought your brain was simply going to explode.

“it’s getting late… i think i’m going to head to bed,” you spoke as you removed yourself from austin’s arms, a cold and empty feeling engulfing you as soon as you stood up.

“it was so nice catching up with you,” you smiled as you leaned down to hug ashley before heading to the guest bedroom, austin’s eyes following you the whole way.

it had been hours since you initially got in the bed but yours thoughts that were currently running wild kept you up. the only thing you could think about was austin… and the kiss of course. you were beginning to wish it never would have happened because it was about to drive you crazy by simply thinking about it.

the bedroom door creaked open which immediately snapped you out of your thoughts.

“y/n, you awake?” austin whispered as he stuck his head into the dim room.

“mhm… can’t sleep,” you hummed before austin entered the room, quietly closing the door behind him. you lifted the comforter up, inviting him to join you in the bed.

“me either,” austin crawled into the bed and extended his arm out so you could use it as a pillow, which you did. you wrapped your body around him, bringing him as close to you as possible.

it took you both back to all of those years ago when the only way he could sleep was beside you.

you both laid there in comfortable silence, engulfed in each other’s arms as both of your minds weighed on the same thing.

“you felt it too?” austin asked, staring up at the ceiling.

“of course i did…” you whispered, “but i don’t know if i ever need to feel that again…”

“why is that?” austin asked gently, his gaze now turned to you as he stroked your hair.

“i love you, austin… and i never want to stop loving you…” you paused as you thought of the right words to say to get your point across, “let’s just say maybe things get serious between us… but we fuck up and things end badly? what if we hate each other for the rest of our lives?”

“you know i could never hate you…” austin spoke as he massaged your cheek with his thumb.

you store up at austin with a whole new light in your eyes as his face got closer to yours but for the first time in your life, you felt nervous around him.

“i’m just scared, aus…” you whispered, his lips inching closer to yours by the second. but you backed your head away when his lips finally brushed yours. “i think we need to think on it more before we go any farther… we should both know what we want before we throw ourselves into a deep hole we can’t get out of…”

austin reluctantly placed his head back on the pillow, “what if i don’t need to think on it any longer? what if know this is what i want?”

you would love nothing more than to chalk up your constant fantasizing to just the fact that you hadn’t been laid in a while, but that passed once you had gone 72 hours nonstop, daydreaming about him yet again. you might as well go ahead and call that therapist. it wasn’t that you liked him — you hated the whole co-star lover trope, ick — it was just that he validated your emotions that night when he finally paid you mind, deciding you were worth more than just the occasional how are you today? or they’re ready for you on set.

normally, you would waltz right onto set at precisely 9 a.m, pour yourself a cup of coffee, and nestle yourself into one of the director’s chair, watching as your co-stars frantically walked by. however, in light of recent events, you walk past the set (hoodie on, sunglasses hugging your face) towards your trailer, preparing to padlock yourself and confront the person you see in the mirror.

today, i will not run into austin butler. i am going to film my scene, and then i am going to go home and climb into my bed.

you’re still repeating the mantra in your head as you walk past the coffee cart, treading lightly on your way to familiarize yourself with your script. in fact, a cup of coffee sounds like something you should treat yourself to. it’s been a while since you had one of those with the whipped cream on…

“hey, [y/n].”

this has to be a sick joke.

if god had any form of love for you, he would have spared you the troubles of seeing austin butler, dressed in his character’s outfit, hair sloppily hanging, lips (plump and pink, might you add) parted slightly. but, that didn’t seem to be your luck today.

your mouth feels as though you had just taken a vat of cement and swallowed the whole thing straight. “h-hi.”

“what’s up?” he looks at you as if nothing happened, as if his tongue was never buried between the folds of your bare pussy, as if you’re really supposed to tell him what’s up. you’re praying he can’t see how pale you turned under the fluorescent light.

“nothing,” you reply flatly. in all honesty, you’re still going through the five stages of grief.

“sooo… are we gonna talk about last week?”

you know it’s coming before it’s even exited just mouth. his face says it all; it’s a little smug, like he knows you’re literally dying to talk about anything else. he was not going to let you catch a break. your world is spinning, feeling as though the wheels had come loose off your bicycle. if someone were to take you out in that moment, you wouldn’t be angry.

realistically, you should talk about that night. the drunken escapade that you had prayed each night he had forgotten. but, you were fooling no one but yourself if you thought he was going to neglect that.

you swallow thickly, “do we have to? i feel like …everything was already said?”

“we didn’t really talk much,” he shrugs. “i mean, how were we supposed to when my face was in between your —“

your hand is covering his flapping lips before he has a chance to conclude his sentence. his eyes widen, but then soften when he realizes that you really are in public, and it’s possibly not a good time when the people you work with are standing a mere five feet away. you refuse to move your hand, “we promised not to talk about it.”

he doesn’t say anything, just lets his eyes gaze into yours, as if that’s supposed to be an answer.

granted, he can’t really speak with your fingers covering his mouth. you move your hand away reluctantly, and a small smirk curls upon his lips. “you promised. i nodded.”

“is that not a form of agreement?”

“some might consider it that,” there’s a glimmer in his eyes, a small one, that reverts you back to that bathroom, and you feel faint as if you might need to get your blood pressure checked.

“listen, i just want to go get a cup of coffee.”

“you go do that.”

“i can’t,” you say through clenched teeth.

“why not?” now, he’s mischievously peering at you, arms crossing over his shoulders because more than anything, he’s enjoying the show you two are putting on. sure, he was shy, and you had fallen for the act previously, but apparently having him eat you out was a ticket to his comedy act.

words are not coming to your brain as easily as you hope. “because you’re in my way.”

“no, i’m not. we’re in a hallway,” he says matter-of-factly, and you almost want to wring his neck. despite your expression, he goes on, “you can go to your right, your left, backwards…”

“i’m not doing this,” you scoff, turning your head away, hoping maybe that’ll ease the way your core drips for him. your body makes a move in the other direction, feet shuffling in unison…but somehow, your face falls smack-dab into the wall.

you’re cursing the wall and yelling at the universe for letting you drink alcohol, and all he does is chuckle, and it rings in your ear like a bad omen. you’ve had better days.

▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓

“you ever had an orgasm so good you nearly collapse?”

you choke on the piece of bread that’s making a home in your throat. it stays lodged for a few seconds before florence pugh finally reaches out, slapping your back as if you were a newborn baby. “jeez, guess not.”

you smile feebly. nope, never had one, florence. definitely not in the bathroom of the club you brought me to. definitely not with our co-star who i claimed i wouldn’t hook up with.

you’re still chugging water as she finishes her thought from before, “anyway, as i was saying, that guy i went home with? great sex. at one point, i think i actually said yeehaw during cowgirl.”

you snort at her confession, “never met a man who made me want to yeehaw.”

not true. austin made you want to do a backflip off the roof of the nightclub, does that count?

“i’m still shocked you didn’t get laid after we went out,” she takes a bite out of her sandwich, and you start regretting your agreement to get lunch with her. you had decided earlier that since you had already encountered austin earlier, you could treat yourself to being seen in public. turns out, this was worse.

“just wasn’t feeling it,” you lie right through your teeth.

“why not?” she presses.

“because i wasn’t horny.”

“there’s no way.”

“i told you i didn’t wanna go out that night,” you roll your eyes, hoping that’ll get her off your back.

“i literally saw you talking to austin the entire night,” she takes a small pause, eyes narrowing. “and you didn’t wanna fuck him at least a little?”

you shrug, hoping to come off nonchalant. “he’s cool. got to hear a few of those jokes you rave about.”

“that’s it?” she looks at you as if you sprouted three heads.

you just nod your head in agreement, because you’re finding it hard to speak with your tongue tying. she continues on, to your dismay. “so, then, what did you do after the club?”

“just went home, literally fell right asleep. that vodka was a nightcap,” you weren’t lying. that alcohol had ran through you like a freight train, knocking you out the minute your head hit the pillow.

you really do believe she’s buying your story. honestly, you’re beginning to switch the narrative in your head as well. but, apparently, not only are you not as good of an actress as you think you are, but she is an impeccable liar. she jerks forward in her chair, leaning into you, eyes ablaze, “i don’t believe this for a second. listen, i may have blacked out that night but my sources tell me something different.”

“your sources?” you snort.

“oh, yes,” she crosses her arms over her caught haughtily. “there is literally no way, with alcohol involved, that you didn’t at least kiss him.”

“i didn’t.”

“yes, you did.”

“no, i didn’t.”

“yes, you did,” she continues to badger you.

it’s coming out of your mouth like vomit, because keeping it bottled up inside you is causing you more pain than it’s worth. and you’re too used to it, too used to telling people a minimized version of your life so that you don’t have to think about things. but, she’s looking at you with pleading eyes, asking you to let her in, to tumble past those walls that guard you. “ilethimeatmeoutinthebathroom.”

“i’m gonna need you to repeat that, babe,” she blinks twice, hoping to make sense of your train of words.

you swallow thickly, voice just below a whisper, “i let him eat me out in the bathroom.”

“you let him what?” she’s gripping the armrests of the chair so tight her knuckles are resembling of a ghost.

“please don’t tell anyone,” you implore, tone desperate and needy. “please. i already feel bad enough.”

“why do you feel bad?” she asks quizzically, eyebrow raised in amusement. for a second, you start to really ponder: why do you feel bad? it’s not like you took advantage of him — he was the one aimlessly roaming outside of the women’s bathroom at 2 a.m — but for some reason it felt as though you were the one in the wrong for having the desire in the first place.

“because…” you trail off, “…i don’t know. it’s just not like me.”

“it’s not like you to hook up with a hot guy?”

“no, it’s not that,” you deride, “it’s just… i don’t know, i don’t do that kinda stuff. you know, drunken hookups, the whole shebang.”

“babe, when’s the last time you did anything sexual beside this?”

and when she puts it in simple terms like that, it should make sense. it should add up as to why you let him sink to his knees in that bathroom. but for some reason, calculations aren’t adding up and your brain can’t comprehend it. you should want this; in fact, simple science dictates the normal human craves sex daily. deep down, in a repressed part of you, there is a nagging voice telling you that it’s because it wasn’t just about the fact that he had quelled your sexual desires, but that he had made you feel wanted. the wall that you kept nice and high, every man unable to break past, had a small crack in it. that crack was manufactured by austin butler’s luscious lips glued to your clitoris.

but, you settle for the easy answer, the one that won’t perturb her. “you’re right.”

“so, do i at least get details?” her eyes twinkle with excitement.

“absolutely not.”

▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓

despite everything you do know, and that maybe alcohol doesn’t mix well with your inhibitions, and that maybe you should keep a 10-foot radius distance between you and austin, you find yourself back in that sweaty club, drunk and alarmed. you really don’t know how it happened; one minute, you’re having a drink at dinner with florence. next, you’re dancing on top of the couch at the club, surrounded by easy steve, florence, and a few other crew members who’s names you didn’t remember after three vodka cranberries.

oh, and austin.

you had been pretending he wasn’t there, hoping he would fade into the distance if you dissimulated long enough.

really, you should not be out. in spite of your attempts to widen the gap between you and him, he seems to gravitate towards you. he’s everywhere you turn but somehow nowhere near where you need him to be. florence is doing her best to not make it evident she knows anything about that night, but instead is fairly obvious with the approach she’s taking; the googly eyes she’s formulating at you two.

but, you relish in the fact that you’re drunk again, because that’s the only thing that makes you feel confident enough to dance on a couch in budapest, hungary.

no, it has nothing to do with the fact that austin is watching you on ground level, eyes piercing through you like daggers. or, anything to do with the fact that he was conversing with numerous girls just twenty minutes earlier. you didn’t care. not one bit. that was the delusion you were currently living in.

he’s really just staring at you in awe because he knows that there’s paparazzi lining up outside, that there’s men ogling at you, that there’s girls whispering about you. he’s amazed at how you care so little, how it seems like all your worries washed away once you got up on that couch.

he’s also staring at you because he’s trying to figure out how to acquire your body in his king-sized bed.

but, at the end of the day, he is a man, a man who knows how to get what he wants, a man who’s well-aware that his looks often overpower his other talents. therefore, instead of walking up to you and asking to go home, he returns to his conversation with that girl who’s nothing compared to you, simply because he thinks it’s right.

you see it all go down; he grabs her waist, pulling her in, whispering into her ear. she giggles, places a hand on her chest, running it down seductively. in any other normal situation, you would appreciate her beauty; high cheekbones, tanned skin, caramel hair, but now, it taunts you and your insecurities. just when you think you’re done and you’ve had enough, he looks up at you. your eyes meet his for a moment, and you want to shrivel up and die.

meanwhile, the girl has a look in her eyes that makes it crystal clear she’s set on her plan for the evening. it’s the same gaze you held when you had walked to the bathroom the other night, knowing there was a high possibility he would follow after you. call it women’s intuition.

music blaring, vodka (turned a pale red color) cranberry in hand, you lean down from your position on the couch, grasping onto easy steve’s shirt collar like your life depends on it. you whisper into his ear, “how drunk are you?”

“pretty drunk, why —“

your lips are on his in a flash. there’s not even a moment of hesitation as you taste the whiskey he had been nursing all night, the hint of your vodka mixing in. it’s horrific; he can’t move his lips in sync with yours, but it’s easy and it’s simple. it requires no strings, yet all the force of the blow. your eyes are shut tight, but somehow, even without a view of your surroundings, you know he’s glaring at you.

you pull away, forcing a sickly sweet smile onto your face. you resist the urge to wipe your lips. “thanks for that,” you pat his back, resuming aforementioned upright position on the couch.

steve, on the other hand, is not doing so hot.

if you had any ounce of sanity, anything keeping you grounded, you wouldn’t have kissed him. you know that, florence (who’s eyes were still widened in horror) knows that, hell, even austin, of all people, knows. so, because he knows and because he can’t think properly when he just watched you kiss another man, he cups the girl’s face, pulling her in for a kiss.

florence pugh smacks herself in the forehead with her hand, wondering what she has done to deserve the night she’s having. it’s absolute pandemonium, as you’re now on the verge of a breakdown, but keeping it tightly wound. you startle yourself with your cynical thoughts of why am i so stupid?

as florence watches the disaster unfold in front of her, austin’s tongue down another girl’s throat, your unhinged dancing on the couch, and steve’s prominent erection, she realizes that maybe she needs to go home.

the room is suddenly spinning for you, but not because you’re drunk. simply put, watching austin practically stamp his lips onto that girl felt a lot like hell. you start to fear death, because if that’s what was waiting for you if you went down there, you weren’t ready. instantly, you’re on your feet, back on the ground, on the spinning earth that keeps pushing your limit, and you’re running to that same bathroom to find some kind of peace.

you don’t have to cry, you know that. that would be insane, letting someone who you hooked up with once affect you like that. however, the fear of having emotions is what is gnawing at you, eating you up as if you were its four course meal for the night. you lean against the sink, closing your eyes and taking deep breaths.

“are you alright?”

no rest for the wicked, you think. you almost want to laugh at the absurdity of it all.

austin’s voice rings out into the bathroom, echoing off the walls and almost startling you until you realize how right it seems, how ordinary it feels to hear his voice in this setting. you wonder how you missed the door creak open.

“just fine,” your eyes remain closed, tone flat.

“don’t be like that,” he closes the door behind him, and you’re too busy swimming in thoughts of your own to hear the lock click.

“be like what?” you reach up to massage your temples.

“act like you’re fine,” he says as if he’s known you forever.

your eyes flutter open to that statement, but only because he is starting to sound ludicrous. “i don’t know what you want me to say to you”

“fair,” he pauses, eyes meeting the tiles his knees used to once rest on. he finds the courage within him somewhere to keep going, “are you mad at me?”

“depends, did you do something i should be mad at you for?” you mean to question him innocently, but somehow, your words have more bite than necessary. your eyes are wide open, a fire behind them he had always noticed, but tonight, burned brighter than he ever imagined.

“i mean, there was a girl. i don’t know if you care or not—“

“we’re fine, austin,” you could’ve let him ramble on and on, but in reality, if you were to listen to his excuse for kissing her, it would’ve sounded exactly like him; like the athlete that broke your heart in the first place, and you didn’t have it in you to accept that knowledge.

but, austin has a way of surprising you. he always does. it started with the witty conversation last week, cozied into the couch at the same club, and ended with his current question: “why’d you kiss him?”

you sigh exasperatedly. there’s not even a real answer you can give him. “austin —“

“what, couldn’t handle seeing me give another girl attention?” a smug grin sneaks its way onto his face as he leans against the bathroom door, still arms length away from you. you take him in for the first time that night under the fluorescent light; the blue button down he wears is rolled up to his elbows as usual, gold chain sparkling. he’s unrealistically handsome to the point where you can’t tell if you want to slap him or fuck him.

so, because you apparently have no filter when you drink vodka, you retort, “why’d you kiss her?”

he snorts, rolling his eyes, “come on. be serious.”

“i’m being very serious.”

“you know why,” he moves away from the door a little, in your direction.

“enlighten me. so, then, why?” you push yourself off the ledge of the sink, bridging more of the gap that was once dividing you two. his cologne wafts into your nose and intoxicates every fiber of your being.

“a gentleman never kisses and tells.”

“you’re insufferable,” you cross your arms over your chest. “like honestly. and you know what else, pestering me in a bathroom isn’t gonna get you anywhere.”

“really? feel like bathrooms are our specialty now.” you’re starting to wonder where all of his hidden confidence is bursting from. just two weeks ago, he couldn’t even look you in the eyes.

“do you always bother your unsuspecting co-stars?” you sneer, “honestly i’m starting to wish we just kept it at our four word minimum.”

“fine. so i’ll go back out there and we’ll go back to that,” he takes a few more steps. one more step, and you’ll feel his body heat on yours. you feel as though you might collapse. you’re weak in the knees, palms sweaty; there’s a lingering fear that you might actually want him to want you. your body is betraying you as your mind is trying to catch up.

“sure,” your mouth speaks before you can even think.

he smiles sarcastically, “great.”

“perfect,” your voice is just above a whisper.

but the worst of all, you don’t want him to leave, not one bit. he is well-aware of it: he never thought for a second he was leaving that bathroom. he had walked right in and locked it behind him for this reason specifically. his eyes flicker down to your lips for a moment, and you gulp thickly, heart pounding out of your chest.

your teeth chew on your bottom lip anxiously. his eyes peer into you, past your soul and past every wall you ever put up. your breath hitches in your throat, but you speak, “i have a question.”

“go for it,” he says as his large hands move to grip your hips, your ass pressing into the marble countertop of the sink. you just know you’re done for, and there’s nothing you can say in that moment to resist. it’s really that simple: you’re putty in his hands, and he’s in charge of molding you to however he sees fit.

“did you lock the door?”

his lips attach themselves to yours before the question hangs in the air for too long.

his hands are everywhere, roaming from your hips to your waist to your front. your hands are entangled within his hair, soft and plush, trying to drown yourself in his lips, the images of those same lips pressed against your core. you taste the alcohol on him, tequila, you think, and it buzzes through your entire body.

you know you should stop; in fact, for your mental health, you need to stop. but you can’t.

he’s still kissing you, like he doesn’t even need air or any of those other stupid human things need to survive, and he hooks your legs under his arms, hoisting you up onto the sink. you don’t even really realize the change in scenery until you realize how easy it is to wrap your arms around his neck, despite the usual height difference there is between you two. you’re pulling him in, so close and so tight that you feel as though you might just become one.

he cups your face with one hand, the other running dangerously close to your inner thigh. you naturally shiver at the contact, and you can feel his lips curl into yours. that son of a bitch, you think. your brain is also screaming that he’s an amazing kisser, and you noticed it last time, but this time, you’re fully at his mercy. because in that moment, in that bathroom, it’s just you two. no other girl, no easy steve.

he pulls away from you, eyes darkened and lips slightly parted as he tries to catch his breath. his hand is lingering near the lace panties you have on under your dress, and he can feel the design of it, almost enough to make him come undone right there.

and you’re pulling him back in to kiss you again, because you’re submerged in everything he’s putting out for you. if he’s shocked by your advance, he doesn’t show it; just continues his assault on your lips. you think, okay, i can resist this.

that is, until his hand makes its way down to your neck. he has a firm grip around the circumference of it, and you think, never mind. i’m all his.

“take off your fucking pants,” you mumble suddenly, and his eyes widen as your hands fumble with the belt buckle. he grabs your hands in his, removing them from the clasps of his belt, slowly looking back up at you and smirking.

“what, we’re gonna fuck here?” he raises his eyebrows, amused.

“do you want to or not?”

“oh, no, no, i want to —“

“so. shut up.”

you pull his chin towards you and he kisses you again, more forcefully and with a purpose. his tongue slips in between your lips, dancing with yours. he lets out a moan — unprompted and to your surprise — that sends tingles down to your core. in fact, you’re tingling all over, and suddenly, you’re overpowered by his energy. somehow, it’s not enough. you dig your heels into the back of his knees, pushing him into you even further.

and then you’re back to the belt buckle, undoing it and hearing his pants drop to the floor. his fingers fiddle with the straps of your flimsy dress, and it’s rushed and lazy and just enough to get the job done, but somehow it feels as though there’s hidden meaning behind it. his lips unattach from yours, trailing down your neck to your bare shoulder, straps coming loose and wavering by your elbow.

you almost want him to leave a mark, the way he sucks and bites at your skin, an animalistic manner to his craft. most likely, there will be one — and you’ll have to explain to everyone how you burned yourself on your curling iron — but you don’t even care, not one bit.

his hand trails down to your soaking, aching entrance, and those damn panties he couldn’t get enough of. his breath hitches in his throat as he traces over the lace, feeling the design and soaking it all in, that you’re really in front of him, that it wasn’t just a fragment of one of his elaborate wet dreams. you bite your lip in agony, silently pleading for any form of contact. he looks back up at you, and you notice the look in his eyes, but try not to take it for what you think it is. “please.” you sound primal, begging for him.

he’s still locked into your eyes as he slips the lace to the side, one finger entering you and relieving some of the tension that had pent up down there. you don’t even have a chance to say anything before you’re out of words, out of breath; all that comes out is a measly, pathetic whimper. you need more, and if he doesn’t give to you, you’re going to combust. he’s watching you intently, pumping his finger in and out, tempted to stretch you out entirely but knowing that you are at his beck and call. he’s in control.

you hate it.

you fingers grasp around his wrist, hoping to speed up his pace and encourage him to add a finger. “austin, please, i need more.”

he doesn’t even know what comes over him when he speaks next. “yeah? you gonna be a good girl for me? gonna stop trying to make me jealous at the bar… when we both know you need me?”

you lick your lips, trying to desperately hide the fact that you’re crumbling already in front of him. “yes. i’ll be better.. i’ll be good for you, i promise.”

what the fuck am i saying? you think, but all worries have washed away. he inserts another finger, and you think of the times you have done it yourself. but, somehow, staring into those blue eyes that pull you in like the ocean’s tide, it’s better than anything you could ever attempt yourself.

your fingernails dig into his wrist, profanities spewing from your lips. your juices soak the countertop, his digits covered completely with you. you can’t bare to look at him anymore, eyes screwed shut as he harmoniously thrusts his fingers into you, curving them to reach your g-spot, enough to make your walls clench around him.

you really couldn’t take it anymore. you needed to be stretched out, filled to the brim with him, pounding into you mercilessly while you scream his name, ruining your life and…

“fuck, aus, i’m, i—“ your words are no use to you anymore as you crash down, tumbling, falling down a deep abyss. legs shaking, eyes rolling, a feeling so euphoric you forget what it’s like to breathe. he’s already stroking his cock as you’re riding out your orgasm, and before you have a chance to readjust to the world and gather your bearings, he’s pushing into you, bottoming out.

you clench around him, eyes still squeezed shut right as you find something, anything, to grip onto, latching onto his broad shoulders. his hands are holding up your legs, leaving him at the perfect angle to overstimulate your senses. “fuck, baby. you feel so damn good.”

“been dreaming to fuck you since i saw you walk on that set,” he’s breathless, senseless babble exiting his mouth as his brain fogs up with desire. you’re taking it all in, head thrown back in ecstasy as he fills you to the brim with his cock, and you think you might die. “better than anything i could’ve imagined, fuck, you’re so..fuck.”

your mouth is slightly ajar, nothing but pathetic little whimpers and moans falling out, and you feel filthy and dirty as if it even matters. the bathroom echoes out, nothing but the sound of the moist slosh of your pussy, the furious clap of skin on skin when your bodies connect, and feral noises descending from both your lips. you’re gripping onto his shoulders for dear life, as if you might collapse through the surface of the sink any second. “aus…” is all you can manage to muster out feebly.

“jus’ wanna fuck you… fuck you like this forever,” he says, and you just moan in agreement. you’ve rid yourself of any strength you had left. you’re embarrassed, disgusted, and you would normally take charge of the situation rather than acting like the helpless little slut you perceive yourself to be. however, the liquor, fatigue, and entire night have taken their toll on you, and your brain is obsolete of any other thoughts beside your crippling urge to cum, and you don't give a damn if you have to lose all of your dignity to get it.

“i-i’m so close,” you whimper, feeling your walls clutter around his cock again.

“shit, baby,” he curses, his lip tucked in between his top teeth. he grips your hips so tightly you’re sure you’ll have bruises the next day (to no one’s surprise) and accelerates his pace enough to have you seeing stars. “wanna make you cum so bad,” he whispers into your hair, body falling forward as he plunges deeper into you.

you’re on the edge, skating between reality and ecstasy, and you think you might explode. for a second, you make eye contact with the tiles on the floor, and you’re whisked away to the other night, the way his eyes bored into you as he lapped at your juices, the way he devoured you as if he had ached for you his whole life, the way he made you feel wanted…

“o-oh, my god,” you nearly scream out, muscles pulsating around his cock as your release washes over you. vision blurry, heart racing, toes curling, you’re an absolute wreck. you’re nearly certain you’re sobbing, mascara running down your face as your legs shiver uncontrollably.

your cunt is dripping onto him, and he can’t even hold himself back at the sight; he wants to keep fucking you just like that, mark his territory, let everyone know that he’s making you sound like that. “fuck, i’m gonna cum right inside that pretty pussy of yours. you’re so damn pretty, jesus..”

he trails off, the need to let go overpowering his thoughts. he cums with a beastly grunt, cock twitching inside you as he paints your walls with his cum. his hips stutter, pace slowing as you moan weakly, chest heaving as you work through the remnants of your own orgasm. you hadn’t even really listened to his words from before, the compliments flying away as he pulls out of you completely and you pull yourself back into the world.

austin moves his hands from your hips, gripping the countertop and closing his eyes as he catches his breath. you take the time to look at him again, as you always find yourself doing, but you savor the moment. his eyes crack open, meeting your gaze, and he smiles weakly, “bathrooms can’t be our thing,”

you want to laugh at his joke, but just as reality had come crashing down on you, you’re also hit with the cognizance of the state of your antics with him. you couldn’t do this again, not to yourself, not after last time. but, instead of hurling your trauma at him, and with the hope that maybe, just maybe, you could let yourself indulge, you say, “maybe not. we could try hotel rooms.”

his eyes widen at that, “i like hotel rooms. .. what are your thoughts on trailers?”

“i like trailers.”

and you smile at him, one that doesn’t really feel like yourself, but an illusion. you’re thinking of the tiles, the marble countertop, the way you let him ruin you with every fiber of his being. you take it all in, every second and moment of it, and your first instinct is to run. but, you don’t. instead, you interlock your fingers with his, because you can’t bear to think about the what ifs when he’s looking at you like that. “how about we try out that hotel room?”

you’re utterly, irrevocably, completely fucked.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

“okay, wait, so run me through why you won’t go out tonight again,” florence pugh pesters you for the thirtieth time that day, puppy-dog eyes filled with hope piercing through you. somehow, when you look at her, you feel no guilt whatsoever.

you sigh, rolling your eyes, “dude, i’m not going to a club. i’m literally 25, i’m past that point of my life —“

“i’m 26.”

“and, you’re mentally ill. see, this is why i don’t hang out with you on set more often,” you tease, taking a bite out of the cookie you had snatched earlier from the snack cart. it tastes like cardboard, but you had no choice but to swallow it, seeing as your other options were the moldy sandwich from the shop nearby or day-old coffee from the cart. combined with your recent sleeping habits, you might as well have chosen death.

“no, you don’t hang out with me because you’re too busy being a director’s pet,” she sticks her tongue out at you, taking a bite out of the lunch she had packed herself earlier that morning. you two are cozily perched in director’s chairs you had stolen from set, hiding from the bustling commotion that is your reality. you had signed on to film dune 2 earlier that year, and although you thought you would be able to handle the adrenaline and stress that came along with filming an action movie, to be quite honest, you were utterly and entirely exhausted. every waking moment was spent running over lines with co-stars, and if not that, you were going through stunts with the coordinators.

your limbs ached and your eyes were bloodshot, but despite all that, you couldn’t imagine doing anything else. so, you did take advantage of that cookie that tasted like cardboard, because who cares? you love your job, isn’t that enough? fuck the sleep, fuck the mental health! your body is begging, screaming, for a break, but instead, you fuel it with red bulls and cardboard cookies and bandage it up to make good as new. so, you resolve to tell florence that that’s really why you’re not going to the club tonight.

but, because she’s florence, and she can’t keep her mouth shut for a second, she keeps going. “what’ll it take to convince you?”

“literally nothing,” you smile sarcastically, crumbs littering your shirt as you take another bite.

“nothing?” she questions exasperatedly, something between a groan and a sigh exiting her lips. “what if i told you everyone was going?”

you blink twice at her attempt to coerce you into spending time with your co-stars. sure, they were great people, but your bed was calling your name “you… really think that would make me want to go?”

“nah. it was worth a shot, though.”

you laugh at the relinquishment of her efforts, “but, i do want to know what happens tonight when everyone gets drunk.”

“oh, please,” she snorts. “nothing’s gonna happen. zendaya is so far up tom’s ass, we’re gonna see her text him all night.”

you chuckle at the truth of the statement, but a twinge of jealousy still makes its way through you. you hadn’t been in a serious relationship since your last one — the 6-foot-something athlete you dated, needs no name — and it ended so horrifically that you swore off men for the rest of your life. sure, you had frivolous flings with hollywood men, but nothing of importance enough to break down the wall that you guarded yourself with. “god, must be nice,” you mutter, playing with the hem of your shirt.

florence’s eyes light up, as if a lightbulb was powered on above her head. “okay.. hear me out. what if, we go out tonight and get you laid?”

the word sounds ridiculous rolling off her tongue, something you hadn’t thought about in months. you were comfortable with two people; your right hand, and your left hand. those were the only things you needed to get off and have a great time on your own. but, seeing the look on her face, you know she won’t take that for an answer. “in budapest?”

“tell me i’m wrong! a nice european man with an accent,” she’s now leaning forward in her chair, eyes sparkling as she goes on, “and he’ll buy your drinks all night. i mean, we were planning on getting a table tonight but at least this way, you can get drunk off whatever he buys you.”

“we haven’t even found a man yet, and you’re talking about him like he’s my boyfriend.”

“i have high hopes!” she exclaims, hands clasped together in delight, “you’re literally gorgeous, [y/n]. i’m sure that won’t be an issue.”

“i don’t want a random guy, though. it feels slimy,” you grimace. it really does sound unappealing to you, the thought of having to speak to someone for several hours before finally getting drunk enough to succumb to the animalistic urges you’ll inevitably feel.

“okay…fair. but, what if it’s not a random guy?” she raises an eyebrow, and you stare at her quizzically. surely, she can’t be headed with this where you think she’s going with this. “what about… someone we know?”

“no.”

it’s firm and it slips off your tongue before you even have a chance to let her finish. god forbid you let her even say the words, or you’ll wring her neck.

“but —“

“literally, no. like, who even would i possibly get with?”

“timothee?” the name almost makes you giggle, but you could only smile as to not embarrass him (even if he’s not present).

“definitely not him. he’s not my type,” you shake your head in disgust.

she taps her finger against her chin, pretending to look lost in thought, “okay, how about the cameraman everyone says is hot?”

“easy steve? are you kidding, flo? that’s your choice for me?” you cross your arms over your chest, staring at her in disdain. she couldn’t possibly be talking about the 20-something year old who had hooked up with half of the crew already.

“yeah… i felt bad even saying it. he’s definitely got something by now,” she goes back to her train of thought, list of men dwindling by the second as she realizes you two really don’t work with as many hot men as you think you do. but, just as she’s about to rest her case and close the conversation, she has an epiphany. “wait, what about austin?”

austin butler was what everyone referred to as an overachiever. not on purpose — no, he was too humble for that — but because he worked so hard to perfect his craft. you had to commend him for it, because you were willing to give it the old heave-ho and just let things be as is. he was a bit of a superstar on and off set, riding on the coattails of his newfound success from elvis, the movie he had filmed that had been released just a few months back. you were lying if you said you hadn’t seen the movie and nearly creamed yourself twice at his performance.

he was attractive — you could at least give him that — but he almost seemed too pretty to be real. despite all that, you weren’t even sure if you two had a full conversation before. the most you had gotten out of him was hey, how are you today? and they’re ready for you on set. you weren’t sure if he was scared of you, or just genuinely found no interest in getting to know you; regardless, it didn’t bother you. he seemed to fade into the background every time you came around, and you had already accepted that that was your working relationship with him.

“eh, too pretty for me.”

“really?” florence seems shocked by your statement. “you did see elvis, right..?”

“yeah, who didn’t?” you shrug, “i don’t know, i feel like he’s just there.”

she chortles at your statement, “what? he’s so cool, he makes the funniest jokes.”

okay, now you’re slightly offended. you could accept that maybe he was just a shy person all around, but if he was talking to everyone except you — including putting up with florence’s constant chatter — there had to be something severely wrong with you. “well, he’s never told me any jokes.”

a sneaky grin makes its way onto her face, and you can almost see the wheels turning in her little pea brain. “what, you jealous?”

“shut it. he just literally does not speak to me,” you don’t give in to her antics. “like, he’ll see me come across the way and then he’ll go mute. i’m fine with that, honestly.”

“fine, fine,” she raises her hands in defeat. “but, i still think you need to get laid. it’ll solve all your problems. and, plus, i’m offering to buy you a bottle of vodka for you to drink all by yourself.”

she knows she’s making offers to you that you can’t refuse.

“whatever,” you stand up from the chair, “i’m not going.”

▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓

maybe it’s the sleep exhaustion making you delusional, maybe it’s the two tequila shots you took by yourself in your hotel room, or, maybe it’s the conversation you had with florence earlier, but, somehow, you find yourself sandwiched in between your co-stars and crew members at a sweaty club in budapest, hungary.

it’s all florence’s fault.

you’re supposed to be tucked into bed, reading a book, possibly, or even lazily watching a netflix show while sipping a cup of tea. but, the rap music pounds into your ears, strobe lights casting colorful illumination across the dance floor. you clutch the vodka bottle closer to your chest, watching as sweaty bodies collided in a mere attempt to feel something. florence can sense your fear and desire to leave, and while you’re still staring intently at the crowd, she creeps up next to you. “so.. are you gonna drink the bottle i bought you, or are you gonna hug it all night?”

you look around the table, bottles being kept cool in ice buckets and napkins strewn messily across the wood, locking eyes with a few of your cast members. zendaya and timothee seem deep in conversation over something, probably a drunken talk about how zendaya hated crowds and more specifically, non-casual drinks. you’re debating on how you answer her question, following up with “well, eventually gonna drink it. soaking it all in now.”

“you need to catch up,” she says, but you can already smell the alcohol on her breath. there’s not much catching up to do; she’s probably already near obliterated. “i don’t wanna be drunk alone.”

you roll your eyes at her exaggeration, popping open the bottle of vodka that had been gifted to you, “fine, fine. if i have no choice,” and with that, you tilt the bottle back to meet your lips, your first sip of alcohol touching the back of your throat and causing you to gag repeatedly. you were no stranger to it; you had quite the party girl phase between the ages of 21 and 23.

with shaky hands, you bring the bottle back down to arms length, “happy now?”

“ecstatic,” she grins widely.

“hey, guys.”

you’re about to sputter out the alcohol you swallowed previously, but you manage to keep it together at the sound of austin butler’s voice echoing in your ear. despite the volume of the music, you still manage to hear him, which was the first time in a while you had actually noted the raspiness in his voice. he’s speaking to the group, not just you — definitely not you, poor boy has had his tongue tied around you for months — and everyone greets him excitedly. you clench your jaw at their reaction, rolling your eyes and taking another swig from your bottle. sure, tears are brimming your eyes from the burn of the vodka, but you rather that happen than have to watch everyone ogle over austin gracing them with his presence.

he doesn’t really acknowledge you, just raises an eyebrow in your direction, and you give a half-smile in return. all in all, you’re not ready to admit he looks surprisingly better than he normally does. he has on a white button-up shirt rolled up to his elbows, dress pants and all. his hair looks messy, but not in the way where you can assume he put no effort in his appearance, but that he clearly did try and tousle it a little. he still fits the description from earlier; too pretty to be real. like, who even wears that to a club? you feel whorish, slutty, raunchy, with your skin-tight red dress and black heels.

florence is now deep in conversation with easy steve, and you take the time to take another sip from your bottle. really, she must’ve been onto something, because leaving you alone with a bottle of vodka and your thoughts was lethal. you’re left to look around the table and see who else you could possibly strike up a conversation with. for some reason, timothee is fist-bumping, and your lips curl up in a smile at that. you decide that maybe you and your thoughts could have a good time on their own. you’re slowly swaying your hips in tune to the music, not concerning yourself with how much vodka you’re actually inhaling.

“having fun there?” one of the crew members smiles over at you, and you return the expression. he’s trying to be sweet, so why not entertain him?

“oh, yeah,” you nod, fingers gripping the neck of the bottle tightly as if it were your life jacket. “can you tell it’s my first time out in forever?”

“with the way you’re drinking?” he shakes his head, laughing, “you look like a veteran, honestly.”

out of the corner of your eye, you see austin reach out to pour himself a drink, while he’s also deep in conversation with another crew member; a girl. she giggles at something he says, and you’re about to bend his neck in half. the man must have some kind of vendetta against you, because really, he can’t stand to be around you or something? you turn your attention back to the man you were talking to, but you realize soon enough that you had been staring at austin for so long that he had found someone else to pay attention.

and, then it’s really just back to you, the bottle, and your thoughts.

you opt to take a few sips of cranberry juice from the carafe that is placed strategically on the table, knowing that’ll help ease the buzz the alcohol you’re sweeping through is giving you. you’re drinking at an alarmingly fast pace, and if everyone wasn’t so indulged in their conversations, they might have noticed you going through the bottle as if it were water. but, your feet remain in the same spot, swaying to the music calmly, not a worry in the world.

there’s shuffling around the table, people moving to talk to others they hadn’t gotten the chance to before, and you’re still humming with intoxication. you were way past tipsy, definitely drunk to the point where if florence had asked you to dance amongst the mosh pit of people, you would’ve said yes. you make small talk with a few, exchange jokes with zendaya, and you let yourself flirt with timothee. you know you’re not attracted to him, but you’re just so bored and drunk and alone and he did, in his drunken state, let his eyes roam over your body, so why not?

you abandon the bottle of vodka at some point, as it’s halfway done and serves nearly no purpose to you anymore. you’re at the perfect point of the night, where anything can happen and if someone were to dare you to do something idiotic, you would. it’s like this: every part of your body aches to do something absolutely stupid, and your brain is consistently egging you on, and your lips are flapping to make words that don’t even really make sense. you’re still coherent — they would’ve sent you home if you weren’t — and you rely on your senses to realize just who is standing next to you after the next round of shuffling around the table.

austin butler is awkwardly standing near you, words no use to him anymore as he just looks down at his feet. you’re already annoyed; no, not because of the alcohol, or because of the way his curls fall over his forehead, or the way he’s not speaking to you, but because of the fact that he’s not even trying to hide that he could care less to make conversation with you. or, well, that’s what you assume it is, because alcohol is invading your bloodstream.

you sit down on the couch behind you, leaning back to rest against the cushion. everyone seems to follow suit, their legs tired from moving around ever so slightly to engage in more talk. austin carefully sits down next to you, and you move your knees to point in the opposite direction, making sure to not let your skin come into contact with his.

“[y/n]!” florence squeals, and she’s stepping on austin’s toes as she squeezes herself on the other side of you. she’s so, so drunk, but she’s your closest friend on set and you love her dearly, so you find it endearing.

“hi, flo.”

okay, you’re so, so drunk too.

“i… love this place,” she gushes, taking a sip of her vodka cranberry that is clearly melted ice at that point. “like, i just love hungary. every time i go out in the u.k, i hate it. hate, hate, hate it.”

you giggle at her words, “what? i thought you loved going out there.”

she scrunches her nose as if your words were poisonous, “god, no. all those pricks out there aren’t half as fun as here.”

“you know, australia’s pretty fun too.”

the man of the hour finally speaks. you’re almost shocked to hear his voice so close to your ear, and you turn to look at the source. austin’s hair is considerably more messy than before, stains from his previous drinks littered across his shirt. his voice hugs you, and you feel a tingle in your core that you push aside because you’re so, so drunk and there is no way you’re letting his voice irritate you. if anything, you’re more shocked at the fact that he finally found a way to speak around you.

“really?” of course, florence is encouraging him on. “i haven’t been in ages, i’ve been meaning to go out there. you were in queensland, right?”

“yeah, we mostly went out ‘round there,” he now turns his body towards the two of you. “we did that for a good few months, before covid hit and everything.”

“oh, wow, where did you guys go out there? i might know a few,” florence says excitedly, giddy to have someone to converse with that wasn’t with your debby-downer attitude. you cross your arms over your chest like a toddler who hadn’t gotten their way, letting them tire themselves out with their chatter. they had stopped acknowledging you completely, just leaving you to listen in as if their talk was more important than anything in the world.

“i like sydney better,” you finally chime in — in a very snotty tone that throws florence off guard — and austin’s eyes widen a little, his head swiveling to face you.

“really?” he asks softly, almost coming out as a whisper against the rap music that blares from every corner. he’s lucky you can read lips. not that you were staring or anything.

“yeah,” you confirm, arms still glued to your chest. “just not really a fan of queensland.”

luckily, no one can tell that you’re literally lying through your teeth, because one: you have never been to australia in your entire life and two: if someone asks what clubs you’ve been to there, you were thoroughly fucked.

“no way! where in sydney have you been to?”

you were going to strangle florence pugh.

you smile, a shaky one that nearly falls off your lips, and your words are a little slurred as you speak, “oh, ya know, where didn’t i go? i can’t even remember the names, it was just so wild.”

that seems to be a good enough answer for the two of them — or, they’ve sussed out that you have no clue what you’re talking about — because they don’t push the issue any further. they move on to another topic, talking about filming and europe. you tune in and out of the conversation before reaching for your bottle once more. taking another swig, you hug it to your chest, replacing your arms.

“you know, [y/n], i’m soooo happy you came out tonight,” florence has finally reached the i love you speeches part of the night, but lucky enough for her, you’re more than capable of partaking in that.

“me too,” you grin goofily, tucking your hair behind your ear. “i love alcohol. and you. and budapest.”

“you weren’t gonna come out tonight?” he speaks directly towards you, and it takes you aback more than you’d like to admit, because for once, he’s not asking how you are or how’s the weather.

“yeah, wasn’t feeling it, honestly,” you shrug, still avoiding eye contact and playing with your hands that gripped the bottle.

“what changed your mind?” you can tell he’s drunk. god knows, he’s drunk because there is no way he’s actually speaking to you. he can’t even believe it himself, since he couldn’t muster the courage to say more than four words to you at a time.

“i don’t know,” you admit, “i really haven’t gone out in a while. felt like maybe it was overdue.”

“yeah, i felt the same,” he says, running a hand through his hair. you can’t help but notice how it descends perfectly onto his temple, and you finally look up to meet his eyes. they are ice-blue, something you had noticed before, but when you peer into them, you notice how they stare into your own, causing you to squirm in your seat. “haven’t been out in a while after my last movie. i don’t know if you saw it or anything.”

maybe it’s the alcohol creeping up on you, or the way his eyes are still gazing into yours, but you feel the need to keep the conversation going, uttering, “i saw elvis. you look—did good. did good.”

you were praying for a sink hole to open up in the middle of the dance floor to swallow you up whole.

thankfully, he spares you the embarrassment and doesn’t note that you almost confessed your attraction to him. no, no, not attraction. what the hell were you feeling? it was bizarre, he had spoken more than four words to you and you found yourself like putty in his hands. you were starting to see why everyone was laughing at his jokes on set; they probably weren’t even funny, his eyes were just piercing into them. “thanks. i saw your last film too.”

somehow, he keeps managing to shock you with everything he says. you chalk it up to liquid courage, because now this man is speaking to you as if he’s talked to you his whole life, with confidence and ease. “that piece of crap? god, i hated it.” it was entirely true; it was a netflix original that had you playing a high schooler at the grown age of 25.

he chuckles at your words, and you sit up straighter at the sound. for a moment, your heart almost betrays you, beating faster than its normal resting rate. “i get it. i was a nickelodeon star for a little. worst. years. of. my. life.”

your eyes widen a little as you come to a realization, your knees fully swiveling towards his body, “oh my god! yes! you were in zoey 101, weren’t you?”

“i was,” he smiles at you for the first time, and you’re overcome with a whirlwind of emotions; desire, attraction, possibly anger at the fact he waited that long to talk to you. and, so, you keep talking, because he’s good company and he likes hearing what you have to say. florence has fully disengaged from your conversation, entertaining herself with easy steve once more. you and austin talk about clubbing, what you enjoy to do in your free time, how you managed to get a college degree before becoming an actress, and he’s thoroughly hanging onto every word you say. liquor is still flowing, and you two even take a shot together before continuing to talk about nothingness.

you’re so enthralled in your conversation that you don’t notice when he rests his arm right above you on the edge of the couch, not touching your skin but enough to mark his territory. you’re not cognizant of his body fully facing you, knees touching yours as he watched your lips move with every word you spoke. “but, yeah, that’s why i moved to new york city. i feel like i made the right choice, ‘ya know?”

“oh, i get it,” he nods, “i’m trying to move from california. i think i like the city, did the broadway thing for a while and fell in love with it.”

“really?” your eyes are sparkling, and he takes a mental picture just for himself to envision later. “i love broadway. i used to see shows all the time.”

“what’s your favorite show?” he asks, genuinely interested in what you have to say, and it makes you feel seen, for once. men tended to look over you, and that might have been due to the people you were choosing, but you chalked it up to just them being disinterested.

“that’s a tough one,” you tap your nails against the 75% empty vodka bottle, “i would have to say wicked.”

“good choice,” his lips curl upwards into a smile once more.

“oh, i know my choice is impeccable,” you say sarcastically, and he throws his head back in laughter. you like the sound of it, to the point where you’re about to whip your phone out secretly and record it to listen to as a lullaby.

the nagging feeling of having to urinate is still pressing against your bladder, but your body refuses to get up. you’re captivated by the conversation you’ve partaken in, and the idea that if you move away from him might change anything is enough to keep you glued to your seat. but, you’re almost tempted to see if he would keep it going, to see if he would reciprocate the tension you’re feeling. florence’s words from earlier ring in your ear like a siren, and you have to clench your thighs to stop yourself from getting carried away. no, he definitely is just being nice. he’s drunk and wants someone to talk to, and frankly, so do you.

so, you decide to stand up, placing the vodka bottle down on the table and smoothing out your red dress. “hold on, i’ll be back. i just have to pee.” he answers with a slight nod. he misses the feeling of your knees pressed against his, and notices as soon as the contact is gone.

as you try and find your way to the bathroom, you let your delusions get the best of you, and you begin to hope, pray, that he follows you in there.

you actually really do have to pee, and you do sit down on the toilet, but some sickly part of you wants him to walk in there and tempt you. you don’t even know what you’re thinking — this man has continuously ignored you for months. but, florence’s words just haunt you as you think that maybe you do need to get laid, and austin isn’t the worst option out there. he’s tall, he smells good, he’s got a gorgeous laugh and stunning eyes. jesus christ, get a grip.

you’re about halfway out the bathroom door, drunkenly stumbling over your heels, before you fall right into someone’s arms.

upon contact, you know exactly who you landed into.

but, to confirm, you look up through hooded eyelids to make eye contact with austin, his arms still holding your biceps. “shit, my bad,” he says softly, swallowing the rest of the saliva that pooled in his mouth.

“yeah, no worries, i was just, um, going back out there.”

“yeah, no, of course.”

he says that but still makes no attempt to let you go.

“is it still fun out there?”

“it’s alright. florence went home.”

“oh.”

quit the small talk, you’re hoping he’s telepathic and hearing every word you’re yelling at him in your brain.

he finally releases you, and you fall back a little. he scratches the back of his neck nervously before asking feebly, “can i ask you a question?”

you’re hoping your eyes don’t look as if they’re about to fall out of their sockets. “what’s up?”

“uh — well, i, um,” all his confidence from earlier dwindles into thin air, “uh, was just wondering if —“

you raise an eyebrow, “yes?”

“i, uh, heard you earlier talking to florence.”

“and?”

“…ya know, about needing to hook up with somebody.”

where was that sinkhole to swallow you up?

“how’d you even hear us?” you manage to muster out in horror. it was more disbelief, but he must’ve moved with so much stealth that you didn’t even notice him, the way he hadn’t noticed you.

“i-i was just walking by, and then, heard my name and all —“

“oh, yeah, ‘cause that’s not creepy,” you say sarcastically.

“right,” he avoids your eyes now, focusing on some stain on his shoes. in all honesty, you’re not sure what he’s even getting at, because now that he was back to being unable to formulate words around you, you weren’t even sure you were attracted to him any longer. but, you were intoxicated, so that thought lasted about two seconds. “listen, i’m just gonna be honest.”

“okay.”

“would you… want to hook up?”

you’re stunned. you had never been so stupefied in your entire life, and you feel as though someone just yanked you off the spinning planet, leaving you to float in space. your jaw fell slack at his suggestion, silence overtaking the two of you despite the music that still blasted through the speakers. “what?” you have to ask, because there’s no way he’s being serious.

“we don’t have to — i mean, you don’t have to do anything. plus, i think i kinda have whiskey dick, but i could eat you out or something —“

he is being serious.

“you… want to go down on me?” you’re almost intrigued, because no man had ever offered to do something without getting some form of stimulation in return. you’re thinking back to all the horrible things you said about him, and discarding every last one.

he nods.

“you don’t even… you barely talked to me.”

“yeah, i-i’m sorry ‘bout all that, i just get nervous,” he draws his lips in between his teeth, and you think you might collapse then and there and someone’ll have to scrape your body off the floor. “kinda had a little crush on you.”

“are you serious?” you ask incredulously. “we exchanged four words.”

“yeah, i-i know, listen, i feel bad about all that, i just literally —“

you’re not even about to let him keep going on with his ramblings, and you find yourself dragging him by his shirt collar into the bathroom, locking the door behind you. you lean against the wood, cooling your body that seemed to warm up from his words. he faces you, lips parted and cheeks blushed. “okay, this is crazy.”

“i know —“

you held up a finger, pausing him mid-word before he could utter anything else that barely resembled a full sentence. he was so lucky there was even an ounce of alcohol flowing in your system, because all those feelings of desire and longing are lingering in your brain, demanding that you listen to them. “this is crazy. and, the fact that i’m even slightly considering it is concerning me more.”

his mouth parts as he’s about to respond before you shake your finger, indicating that there’s more left to your sentence. “if, if we do this, you cannot tell anyone.”

he nods again, this time like a lost puppy.

“i’m not kidding, austin. no one can know about this,” you repeat, hoping the words drill into his brain.

“no one will know.”

“i’m only doing this because it’s been a while, okay, like a good few months.”

“okay.”

he’s looking at you eagerly, as if he were ready to devour you and you’re suddenly overcome with every bit of desire for him, wetness pooling between your thighs and soaking your underwear. your heart thumps loudly in your ear as you mull over his offer. weirdly enough, he is your best option at that point in the night. it was either austin butler, the man who apparently has pined for your affection the entire time, or some sweaty stranger plucked from the dance floor. you repeat the same word he had, because what else is there to say when austin butler is begging you to let him eat you out? “okay.”

he blinks twice, an expression full of shock and a tad of confusion plastered on his face as he realizes you’re consenting to it, to him. he moves towards you, and your eyes are locked into his. you’re not even sure if you’re breathing properly as he reaches out to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, his thumb tracing over your jaw.

you take the moment to really, finally, look at him. his nose juts out at the perfect angle, blue eyes calming you as if they were waves melting into rocks, his plump, pink lips parted slightly as he exhaled. he was angelic, and you nearly shot yourself from the thought of ever looking past him. he’s doing the same with you; taking note of every single freckle, every mark that adorned your face. he was irrevocably entranced by you. he leans in towards you, hand cupping your chin, “‘m gonna kiss you now.”

you’re still nodding as he pulls your chin towards his to meet his warm lips that taste like alcohol, and you’re immediately paralyzed by the way your lips collide with his, meshing perfectly as if they were always meant to. he’s kissing you fiercely to make you want more, but not to be sloppy. your wrap your arms around his neck, pulling his body closer into you, back firmly pressed against the door. surprisingly enough, despite the drunken state you’re both trapped in, you move in sync and the arousal in your panties only escalates, burning your entire body.

you pull away for a moment of air, inhaling and exhaling at a sharp rate, and he doesn’t miss a beat, only going down to your neck to press light kisses, then suck. he continues the pattern, and you find yourself running your fingers through his curls, soft moans slipping from between your lips. you’re too blind to even realize what’s actually going on, that you’re really in a bathroom at a club in budapest, hungary, making out with your co-star. you hope your alarm clock doesn’t suddenly go off.

his tongue swirls around a sweet spot on your neck, and you bite your lip to contain the moan that’s begging to be let out.

and before you’re really going to protest or say anything remotely coherent, he sinks to his knees, the cold tiles grounding him as his hand roams up your thighs. you’re just watching, in complete and utter disbelief, as he slowly bunches up your dress to around your belly button, revealing your pair of panties that were absolutely dripping. you should be embarrassed — in fact, you definitely are — but he only looks up at you submissively, eyes interlocking selfishly. “can i?”

you nod, lip still stuck in between your teeth. you watch as he slips your underwear right down your legs, pressing a light kiss to your thighs. he looks back up at you one last time, for that one last confirmation he needed, and you give it to him, your hand entangling in his hair as you push his head to where you need him the most.

his hands make their way around your hips, pressing into the bone as he steadies your body against the door. just when you think you’re about to beg for him, that you might have to embarrass yourself further, he presses his tongue, flat, against your folds, and you whimper at the contact. he licks carefully, deliberately, as if he knows just what to do to make you unfold, as if he’s done this his whole life.

his lips slip around your clit, sucking the bundle of nerves and causing you to throw your head back and slam it on the wood behind you. he’s encouraged by your response, working faster as his tongue flicked against your clit repeatedly, the stimulation almost too much to bear. “o-oh,” you moan out, tugging at his hair and moving your hips against his face, nearly riding his lips at that point.

it had been a long time since you had someone go down on you, but never like this. your eyes are squeezed tight, strings of profanities amongst his name coming out your lips like the only words you ever knew. your juices ran down his chin messily, and he moves one of his hands from your hips down to your folds, parting them to get better access to your core. “fuck, austin,” is all you can say. he’s just watching, admiring you from down there as he works feverishly against your pussy, lapping up your juices.

your eyes meet for just a flash, and you suddenly feel shy, as if he wasn’t really eating you out on the floor of a bathroom, as if you hadn’t known for him for a good six months. his lips are coated in your juices, fingers soaked as well, blue eyes now darkened as he sloppily devours you. he wants you to cum, right onto his face, to feel you come undone because of him. he hooks two fingers into you, reaching a spot you had only ever done yourself, and you jolt forward. your body is trembling as he just fucks you with his finger, nose pressed against your lower body as he buries his lips, tongue darting at your clit.

just when you think you’re already down for the count, that he already was going to make you cum harder than any other man ever could, he reaches out to hoist one of your legs on his shoulder, and you instinctively push him further into you, as if it were even possible. his tongue is circling your clit, and you can feel it, the sensation you’d been dreading bubbling in your abdomen, because indisputably, you do not want this to end. you’re a moaning, screaming, shaking mess and austin is pinning you down against the door, fighting to get you to your release.

his fingers work desperately in and out of you, and he moans against you at the feeling of your walls tightening around his fingers. you can’t even fight the feeling, or try and delay it, because it’s overwhelming you to the point where you’re screaming his name and begging for more, to take you to the edge. “austin, oh my god, please, i’m so fucking close —“

“come on, baby. i want you to cum on my face,” he speaks against your core, hot breath waning over your aching entrance as he rapidly continues to stretch you out with his digits, and you’re done fighting; you want nothing more than to release all over his stupid pink lips, and his stupid perfect face that you can’t believe is at your mercy right now.

this could possibly be the most toe-curling, back-arching, mouth-foaming, eyes-rolling orgasm of your life, and it washes over with so much power you’re shocked you’re even still standing. his fingers are still inside you as your walls spasm and contact around them, hands reaching out to grip onto his shoulder in desperation. you let out a choked sob, as white washes over your vision, your body completely shattering into little pieces. he pulls his fingers out of you, hypnotized by the way your cheeks flush, eyelashes fluttering as you struggle to recover.

and, you’re still quite not sure you’re alive moments later, balancing yourself against the door as you try to contain your breathing. you look down at him, and you observe as he utilizes his fingers to wipe the remaining juices off his chin and lips, licking every last drop clean.

you’re rendered speechless, useless to him as you can’t even formulate a word, just one measly word to say to him. he gets up, pressing a kiss to your forehead as you’re still standing there, panties still draped around your ankles. “you good now?” he asks, almost coolly, as if his tongue wasn’t buried inside of you mere minutes before.

“i-i — yeah, i, uh, guess so. thanks, i guess,” you swallow, eventually gathering your last ounce of strength to pull your panties back up, pulling down your dress to your thighs. “you go out first, i’ll catch up. don’t want anyone to suspect anything.”

he just nods, looking like he’s about to say something but instead swallowing thickly before walking back out into the club. you hear the sound of the music for just a second when he opens that door, before you’re engulfed by the silence as soon as it swings closed. you look over at yourself in the mirror, makeup partially ruined and hair matted from the sweat. you’re not even sure you can walk properly, scared to even try. you feel like a baby bird who’s trying to leave the nest for the first time.

with one last exhale of oxygen, and the little resilience you still have left in your body, you swing open the bathroom door, flattening out your dress again and meeting the bustling crowd of people that happened to remain at this hour.

you’re hoping it’s not obvious that you just had the best orgasm of your life in that bathroom.

fuck, fuck, fuck.

yeah, you’re going to need to see that therapist.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆