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#Line Friends Hollywood
ottiliere · 2 years
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i am absolutely obsessed with your alpha dave because you just hit that itch for me when it comes to the idea of guardians being the worst version of what their kid version could become. i've always wondered that, if the alpha guardians had the same concept the beta guardians did, how would they be-- especially dave, cause the striders relationships with their guardians are always so like. volatile? just the idea of dave growing up with no one to give him proper attention or care or love, (1/2)
and instead of bettering himself he just turns to the constant attention and eyes of the public when he becomes famous, because he NEEDS attention, he needs people to want him and crave him and look up to him and shit. and alpha dave just going down this spiral of doing more and more wack shit to get the public's attention, doing hard drugs with nasty circles he shouldn't be getting himself in, cause he's constantly chasing after the euphoria of people "loving" him. thats all thank you for listening to me go on and on like a maniac. tldr alpha dave being the worst version of who dave can be is an idea i am absolutely obsessed with partially due to your interpretations of him. ur art and ideas are stellar about the striders (2/2)
oh my god I love you. yes this very much how i envision alpha dave to be and it really falls into my stringent devotion to the concept of "universal karma" i.e. where beta dirk strider was so aloof and in his own head alpha dave strider must exist as an extreme direct inverse of that. needy, demanding, overbearing. this man, much like beta dirk, was not built to be a guardian. I think he kind of sucks super bad and it's so awesome. i could go on and on and on about this but I already have another ask in my drafts about him that’s hit 1k words with no end in sight and who knows when that’ll be ready. thank you for your kind observations. picture me smiling at you right now.
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#alpha dave strider#ask#lucy art#I would have given him a coke nail here if I thought I could’ve make it look good#and also. like. tangentially. but very related.#the reason i view him as a cocaine addict isn't just because ohhhh hollywood superstar of course he does drugs#though that definitely enables his access#coke is a death trap for those with no spine and no self esteem because it makes you feel on top of the world.#if you're miserable and spiralling if you're insecure whether or not everyone in the room hates you you can snort a line#and abruptly perceive yourself to be the hottest shit ever#have read stories of many doing coke and thinking they're the life of the party only to be told afterwards that they were being a jackass#there are many such cases of diffident actors becoming cocaine addicts for these reasons#and that everyone hated them for being there#that's fundamentally dave to me#definitely a product of the environment. I think he has ALWAYS been quite insecure but in an environment like this the stakes are amplified#like it's a social game. everything is a social game there. and he is NOT a naturally confident man#the thing is with a lot of the high-profile coke addict actors the thing is like. they're alone. or they perceive themselves to be alone.#alone in hollywood afraid they're just not cutting it not fitting in with the scene not making ''friends''#which is really more attributable to the social scene being so cutthroat and highschoolesque#a bunch of self-centered preps who would be nobodies if they hadn't grown up in wealthy families and shit like that#and I don't think dave would've come from an upbringing like this at all. alienated this guy craves attention and peer approval#doses and mimosas.flac#this is almost opposite of my view of dirk and i often use dave as a tuning fork for him#i had typed up a whole essayramble here and when i saved tumblr wiped out half the tags. did not realize there was a limit.#i suppose i will save to topic i discussed for its own post. thank you all for reading my tags as usual#sorry i edited your three asks into two asks so this post wouldn't get super long. hope you don't mind.
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thezombiespeaks · 5 months
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Pokémon art exhibit at Japan House LA ⚡ and the Line Friends store! 😱
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timeconqueror · 1 year
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I was thisclose to getting HQ footage of Kang but sOMEBODY HAD TO GO AND BE A DOMESTIC ABUSER--
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britneyshakespeare · 2 years
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that’s my comfort celebrity scandal
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biblionerd07 · 2 years
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I have some little nickpicky annoyances with the new League series on Prime but the absolute worst one is Carson being from IDAHO in 1940 and saying she’s never even BEEN to a farm. COME ON.
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jeffblimchat · 2 months
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Is that Jeff Blim in the 3rd frame, offering Boyle some booze? That's not in the movie.
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upsidedog · 8 months
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i can't wait to make all my friends who don't give af about stranger things go in the stranger things halloween horror nights house ^_^
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madelynraemunson · 28 days
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pass the salt • e.m. smut
DAD’S BEST FRIEND!OLDER!EDDIE x FEM!READER
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summary: you’re home from college and staying with your dad for the summer, spending as much time as you possibly can with him…and his hot best friend that you’ve never seen in your life.
authors note: okay have you guys ever seen those text posts like “when you say ‘daddy pass the salt please’ and your father and your man both reach for it” 💀💀 well this is inspired by that concept. also i went overboard and this is a LONG BOI
disclaimers — photo credits to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple 🫶🏼porn with plot, reader’s nickname is “sunshine”, reader has female anatomy, race unspecified, divider: @iluvpooks
NSFW — 18+ obv, porn with plot, daddy kink pls keep scrolling if it’s not ur thing, slight age gap (eddie is mid to late 30s, reader is in her early 20s), corruption kink, size kink, masturbation (m&f), p in v sex (protected), dirty talk, teasing, sexual innuendos, extreme flirting, eddie kinda being a perv, praise kink
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The sound of breakfast on the griddle summons you downstairs.
Dad never cooks.
For as long as you can remember, weekends at your dad’s have always consisted of Lucky Charms cereal and powdered donuts. That tradition continued even after you started college.
Oh yeah. Someone is here, alright. Someone Dad desperately wants to impress.
Trailing after the commotion, your fuzzy pink slippers guide you down the wooden steps of your dad’s ‘bachelor pad’ and into the kitchen. And when you near the bottom of the steps, you can make out two distinct voices — one belonging to Dad, another belonging to someone who's identity is obscure.
“God, I fucking missed you, Jeff. Missed everyone so much.”
The smells of pancake batter, cigarette smoke, mint, and petroleum fuel reel you in, but not nearly as much as the sight of the man sitting on the opposite side of your dad. He's built, handsome with wavy brown hair, leather, black denim, twiddling a toothpick between his teeth as he listens to your dad speak with a smile on his face. That is, until you come into sight. It then that his intense focus circles in on you.
Funny. You don’t remember this friend. And something in your gut tells you that you won’t ever be forgetting him after this.
The stranger's grin curls into a wonder-filled smirk. You can feel your knees start to buckle.
“Uh oh. Looks like our shenanigans woke up Sleeping Beauty.”
When you get a closer look at Dad’s friend, you observe his faint brown beard — neatly kept and lightly peppered with some gray — delicious lips, shiny white teeth, and grooves along his laugh lines that would deepen with every theatrical cackle he belted out.
You can't help but freeze in your tracks as him and your dad continue on with their banter, reliving their glory days like it was yesterday. Man. What a damn dreamboat.
Your dad’s eyes light up with glee when he sees you.
“Hey, good morning, Sunshine!” Dad cheers. “Thought you’d never wake up. This is my friend Eddie. We were in that band together in high school. Come say hi.”
"Yeah, come say hi," Eddie agrees. feeding into the obvious tension in the room. "I don't bite."
The stranger laughs at his own comment as soon as he utters it.
There’s a charm — a magic — about Eddie that could only be found in Hollywood or the Big City. But of course, you didn't expect any less from Dad's supposed ‘Rockstar Friend’.
When your parents had you at 17, life went on for Dad’s band Corroded Coffin. And although he missed out on the ‘Sex, Drugs, and Rock&Roll’, Dad insists that tea parties and white picket fences were an ideal trade-off. Because — despite how things ended with Mom — it still meant a life spent with you.
You tell him your name as Eddie offers you his hand to shake. Electricity serges through you when your hand is enveloped by his firm, calloused one. Eddie smiles down at you, his presence all-consuming. It's almost as if he knows it. And as much as you were dying to, you resist the urge to fall into him.
Eddie's no better.
It takes everything in Eddie's power to keep his eyes above your collarbones, reprimanding himself with the utmost tedium. Because heaven knows he'd be TOAST if his best friend found out that Eddie thought that you were absolutely stunning — strutting around the house the way that you do, without a bra underneath that poor excuse of a sleep shirt — a sleep shirt far too tight for your own good. With tight, pajama shorts to match…
Of course, this is all an assumption…Not that he caught wind of it or anything.
“You know…” he mentions. “Your dad has told me SO much about little miss Sunshine.”
“Me, really?” is all you can say behind those fuscia cheeks.
“Really,” Eddie insists. “He never shuts up about you, darling.”
“Hopefully you’ve only heard good things,” you mutter faintly.
And instantly, your dad and Eddie share a laugh.
“Only good things,” Eddie assures you. He nudges your dad playfully.
Your dad doesn’t exactly deny the last part, basically confirming to Eddie that you’ve got a hint of spunk to you. The heat settles at your cheeks as you shy away from your father’s curious friend.
Taking note of how timid you’ve just become, Eddie furrows his brows.
“What — was that an implication that you’re not always good?”
“No comment,” your smile melts into an awkward one.
“Kept me on my toes back then,” your dad reflects with a sigh. “Keeps me on my toes now.”
“You don’t say…” Eddie smirks slightly, gaze panning back over to you.
Eventually your dad leaves you two alone, going into the garage to fetch something that he insists Eddie would like. But little did he know that such thing was already in the room, leaning…reaching into the fridge for some orange juice, not realizing its atmosphere caused your nipples to harden.
Eddie’s eyes proceed to follow you as you strut back to the griddle, flipping some hot cakes over before tending to your messy bedhead.
Eddie probably doesn’t know — or maybe he does, who knows? — that you feel him staring at you. It’s a burning gaze that practically impales you, but you’re too nervous to say anything. You’re better off pretending like it’s something you don’t notice.
You and Eddie continue to help yourselves to breakfast, enjoying the company of each other and your mutual silence. That is, until Eddie speaks up.
“Got some sausage for you if you’d like.”
“I’m sorry?” you sputter, looking up from your food.
Eddie shoots you a weird glance as he holds up some breakfast franks.
“Sausage?” he repeats. “Store was out of beef so I settled for turkey. Hope that’s not a problem.”
“Not at all,” you clear your throat. “I love turkey sausage.”
“Okay, good,” Eddie chuckles, seemingly relieved at how quickly the situation had diffused.
“Cool,” you chuckle with him while taking some links to cook.
The silence returns once more and is replaced by the sizzling of the grill. It’s short lived, however, because soon, the man nearly twice your age speaks again.
“What’d you think I said?” Eddie circles back.
“Nothing, why?”
“You just looked stunned.”
“I just woke up,” you shrug. “My mind’s somewhere else.”
“I can tell,” he smirks. “Get that thing out of the gutter.”
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The coming days paved way for some more innocent flirting.
…Like when you make sure to wear the shortest skirt in your closet when running Eddie his afternoon beer in the garage.
“Well don’t you look absolutely darling…” he says as he peers up from his guitar.
“Hehe,” you smirk connivingly. “Thank you!”
“You are so welcome.”
Eddie downs the liquid guilt along with his pride, watching you strut around…the hem of that pleated cotton fabric just barely covering the roundness of your asscheeks. And as you blush a rosy pink when you process his little remarks, Eddie can only clear his throat in arousal, fantasizing about just how badly he wanted to turn your other cheeks that very shade.
…Or when you come downstairs the next day to help Dad manually wash his car.
While he and Eddie are harassing each other with soap and that god-forsaken hose, you decide to join in on all the fun.
“Watch out, Sunshine,” Eddie forewarns. “You’ve just entered the splash zone!”
And with the intention of cooling you off on a hot summer day like this, Eddie teasingly sprays you with said hose, your white shirt becoming transparent when lathered with water. He could see everything. Your erect nipples. Your perky tits bouncing in the sunlight as you jump around in excitement. How glazed your oil-nnuendo’ed skin looked when glimmering in the sun. All as intended.
“You got me,” you surrender yourself to him. “You got me good, Eddie.”
And when you walk away, Eddie mutters slyly to himself.
“Yes, yes I did.”
…And then there’s dessert after dinner.
Eddie watches as you lick your popsicle, his fingers curling at his thighs in arousal as you retract the wrapper before enclosing your lips around the bright pink dessert. And he swears he’s going to blow his pants when he envisions the melted sugar shooting into your mouth with the swiftest hollowing of your cheeks, the quiet suction noise you make with your pursed lips forcing him to adjust the way he’s sitting.
…The final instance takes the cake.
“What’s your major?”
You’re in the home library grazing some of Dad’s old books and vinyls, talking to Eddie while your father gets ready for the day. Meanwhile, Eddie is perched at your dad’s desk, rolling around in his expensive swivel chair and occasionally doing some spins on it to make you laugh.
“History.”
“Sounds boring.”
“You just haven’t found a topic that interests you,” you point out.
“Mm,” is all Eddie says. “Maybe I will eventually.”
Eddie watches as you waltz around in front of him, following your movements with his eyes as you get onto your tippy-toes in order to grab some books on the top shelf.
“Oh my god!” you yelp.
Your plan to entice him seemingly fails when you graze a book that’s halfway off the shelf. It’s already flying off of its platform, headed straight towards Eddie's lap before you can even stop it.
Eddie catches it before any damage can be done, saving Dad’s old campaign book with the hand furthest from you and snaking the other around your waist to prevent you from sinking any further into him.
Phew. Crisis averted.
Your eyes meet again.
“I’m so sorry, Eddie,” you gasp in embarrassment. “That book has a mind of its own.”
“You’re fine,” Eddie laughs. “Can’t defy the laws of gravity. Sometimes it betrays us.”
You feel yourself burning up a fever. Excusing yourself from the room, you leave Dad’s library and make your way over to the kitchen for a glass of water.
But you’re nearly taken aback when you feel tight, calloused hands wrap around your hips, and like a feather it’s like you’re whisked away into the air, and soon your body is pressed up against the wall.
Slam!
Breathing heavily against each other now — chest to chest, lips so unbearably close you can smell the whiskey — Eddie draws you even closer to him. You both study each other intently. It’s like you’re waiting for the other to say something. Eddie does the honors and speaks first.
“I wasn’t born last night, doll. I was also your age at one point.”
———
To his own despair, Eddie touches himself later that night. Facing your room, he strokes his rock hard cock with his lotioned-up hand, running his thumb across the slit of his head, pretending it’s your tongue giving him a little tease like you did the popsicle.
“Fuuuck,” he grunts quietly. “You like when I fuck your throat, baby? Gonna suck me dry with that pretty little mouth of yours?”
You’re playing make-believe just as much. Because at the same time, in your room, you’re a drooling, pathetic mess, riding your wall-mounted toy to oblivion in your bathroom, legs trembling when the thick, veiny piece of silicone slams into the spongy part of your heat, initiating shock-waves all across your body.
“Eddie,” you find yourself blubbering. “EddieEddieEddieEddie…”
You both know it can’t be like this, but that was the mere thrill of it all. And when you both have overcome your peak, just one mere wall apart, the floodgates of guilt outweighs both your arousals the way it comes pouring in.
So, so wrong. But oh, so right.
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You’re anticipating…waiting…aching for Eddie to make the next move.
He doesn’t.
“Going to the store again,” Eddie announces. “Hopefully this time they’ll have beef sausage. Need anything?”
Need you, is what you think. But you end up shaking your head, a part of you disappointed that you and Eddie won’t be able to spend some time alone together.
“No,” there’s defeat in your voice.
“Are you sure?” Eddie questions softly.
“Mhm,” you nod.
“Okay,” he gives you a grin, one in the form of a tight-lipped smile. “I’ll be right back. You be good.”
“Ha-ha,” you roll your eyes.
——
Eddie leaves the door of his room open that night. Just a smidge. You end up following the sound of his TV that he’s placed at a low volume, making out that it’s Seinfeld just by Jerry’s voice and the laugh track.
Your heart skips a beat as Eddie laughs along with the show, shaking his head at a stupid joke. But he shifts his focus immediately onto you when he sees you at the doorway.
“Having some alone time tonight?” you ask him.
“Mmm…not by choice,” he responds. “Tuckered your dad out after dinner doing P90X.”
Eddie follows a crazy workout routine. He says that it helps with his stamina, especially when he does crowd work during his stage performances. Your mind can’t help but wonder what else he may be using it for.
You snort. “Yeah. Dad wasn’t what you’d call an athlete in high school.”
Eddie laughs at that too. Both you and him know that.
He then pats the space on his bed beside him. “Wanna come watch with me?”
Your stomach does a series of cartwheels when you process Eddie’s question. You know what’s bound to happen if you follow through. And it seems Eddie knows it too. Even if there wasn’t any sexual tension between you both already, the concept of it all would rub anyone that way.
But you still follow through with it. Just like Eddie knew you would.
“You comfortable?” Eddie asks you, eyeing you endearingly as you squirm around on the bed.
“Yeah,” you breathe.
“Good…” he replies, voice nearly at a strained whisper now.
You two watch the show in silence for a few minutes, exchanging commentary and pleasantries regarding the show every so often. It’s not too long after Eddie pulls a laugh from you that he starts closing up the space between you both, scooting himself closer…and resting his gruff palm over the base of your knee.
You inhale sharply as he does so. And evident by your refusal to pull away, it’s enough of a green light for Eddie to hike up further.
A soft moan escapes your mouth from the back of your flustered throat, but you bite your lip in restraint.
"I'm sorry," you whisper.
"For what?”
You shrug sheepishly as Eddie continues to graze your thigh. Your breathing falters even more.
“Don’t be scared,” Eddie coos.
“I’m not,” you insist.
“Then what’s stopping you from getting on top of me? Hm?”
He’s in between your legs now, the rough material of his denim jeans riding up your sex, teasing your clit with every calculated rub against it.
“And riding my rock hard cock til those pretty legs give out?” Eddie continues. “I see how you’ve been looking at me, doll. It's all over your face how bad you want it.”
“The bed is squeaky,” you answer honestly. “And that headboard is a lost cause.”
Eddie puts the dirty talk on pause, squirming around to assess the guest bed’s squeak factor. When it checks out, he gives you an understanding nod. You giggle.
Eddie wastes no more time. You watch as he grabs one of the pillows on the bed and wedges it between the wall and headboard. He issues you a sly smile.
“Oldest trick in the book.”
You're back to fooling around shortly after, your aching core burning with lust as you pine for him.
“The boys at school ever touch you this good?” Eddie quips rubbing circles around your puffy, needy folds as you hopelessly cling to him out of pleasure.
“No, Eddie.”
“Didn’t think so.”
He continues to tease, gliding his fingers along your slit before slowly inserting two large digits inside of you.
His calculated pumps into your needy pussy are steady, a pace so agonizingly beautiful that it makes you squeal sweet nothings into the crook of his neck.
"Shh, baby," Eddie hushes you. "Your dad's gonna hear us. Gotta be quiet for me, mkay?"
Your hot, messy, and muffled sounds cease as Eddie soothes your quivering lips with his tender ones.
The wet sounds that ricochet and fill the room in tandem is almost enough to send him over. And Eddie is sure to communicate that… with an abrupt curving of his three thick fingers.
Fuck.
Needing him direly now, you tug helplessly at his pants.
“God, Eddie,” you whimper. “Just fuck me already. Please.”
Eddie laughs at the desperation. He hasn’t ravaged you to his fullest extent yet, and you’re already a pooling mess beside him.
“Well since you said please, sweet girl,” Eddie obliges as he starts to undress himself. “Your wish is my command."
You watch Eddie as reaches over into the bedside drawer for a fresh box of condoms. Looks like the sausage links weren't the only things he went to the store for.
“Oh.”
Eddie chuckles at your observation before shrugging. Can you really blame him? You both knew what was coming.
You watch with absolute lust as Eddie slides the piece of rubber over his long, girthy, throbbing cock. He’s bigger than anyone you’ve ever had before, and the snarky, hooded-eye smile as he watches you fawn reveals to you that he knows exactly how to use it.
"On your stomach, babygirl. Will have you all nice and pounded out just like you wanted.”
You situate yourself in prone and spread your legs for Eddie to line himself up against them. He teases his wrapped cock against the entrance of your pussy, and when his soothing countdown is over, your lips part in disposition as you accommodate his ruinous stretch.
A throaty moan spills out of the both of you the moment Eddie snaps his hips in and out of you. Meanwhile, one of his hands lays tauntingly at your stomach, so the prideful man can feel himself wriggling inside you, glazing his shaft with your slick more and more with every pump into your weak cunt.
"Fuck, Eddie... yes..." you mewl. "R-right there, Eddie, please..."
And then it picks up. You can feel Eddie’s hips practically collapse right onto you, his balls slapping against you as he digs further into your body.
"God damn..." the man sighs in disbelief.
He can only beam down at you in awe. You were taking him so good, pussy swallowing him so nice and tight. And when you nestle your ankles between each other to keep him there in prone, the nearly cries out in pleasure, but refrains because he knows your dad is resting — just a thin wall over.
That still doesn’t stop him from going to town though. Practically seeing stars, the broken record of a mouth that belongs to you chants Eddie’s name like it’s all you know. Eddie attempts to keep you contained, offering you his fingers to suck on as he’s railing you dumb.
And when he fucks you through your climax, Eddie continues with his string of lust-filled praises, satisfied at himself that he was able to make you wet enough to soak the mattress.
“Did so good for me, angel,” he praises you as he sucks at your temple. “Always knew you weren’t all that innocent.”
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The griddle comes out again on Eddie’s last day. But this time, for a homestyle southern dinner.
You and Eddie were on mashed potatoes and gravy duty at the stove, an ordeal that only opened doors for lots of innuendos on Eddie’s part. Meanwhile, Dad insisted on making the rest, having taken pride in continuing his Mama’s legacy.
“This is amazing, Daddy,” you rave. “I really missed this. Do you mind passing the salt, please?”
And to your horror, you watch as your father and Eddie automatically extend their arms, bumping into one another in the process en route to getting you the salt.
The gentlemen meet each other’s eyes.
“Ohp!” Eddie exclaims, letting out a slight chuckle. “Sorry.”
You try your hardest not to blush. Eddie kicks you from under the table, and softly he oh-so-seductively he mutters,
“I was just tryna help her out.”
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inkskinned · 21 days
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you found out today that a phrase you have used before was coined by an abusive man. this felt like getting your teeth taken out. it made you sick and sad and tired, but not surprised.
bad people tell you to be careful when you talk badly of bad men, that it could "ruin" a life. you had your life ruined by a bad man, not that it ever matters to them. your real life having real consequences is not valued as highly as the potential of his future.
this has always been a frustrating little mathematics problem for you. you've missed school and had to call out sick at work and had panic attacks that lasted for weeks. it stole sleep and food and friends from you. you cried in public, fucked your relationships up. and the whole time: your present has never mattered so much as the great what if! of his future. like - one life (your life) is already ruined, should we really ruin two?
so you live with the consequences and he doesn't, and that's just like, something you need therapy for. you once discussed this with one of your friends over coffee. she chewed the wooden stirrer, looked off into the distance. "once i became a victim, everything that happens to me afterward is automatically less interesting in the eyes of the general public. it is always about him. he changed my identity. to survivor. to statistic. meanwhile this whole time - i am a person."
you learned in college that three out of five of your favorite artists and authors were actually abusive assholes. these days, you are no longer surprised. oh, is that what was happening behind closed doors? of course it was, he was a "genius," and she was just a girl. you are talking about him in art history, so obviously his career was absolutely ruined, for eternity. that's what happens, right? they strike your name from the record and refuse to remember you? nobody really knows her name, but hey. that's what you get for being close to celebrity.
you got into an argument about it, which was a bad argument, because it made you cry. he said what, you want us to just ignore all the things this man did because he made a few women uncomfortable? and you'd balled your fists up and choked on it. later, in bed, you agonized over the response you'd been trying to articulate but never found the right moment to deploy: you are ignoring what any person could do if they weren't being fucking abused. maybe her talents far exceeded his and she was just never allowed to fucking use them. maybe we only see genius in white men because they purposefully fucking squash and silence any other people with talent.
but you'd cried about it instead of saying that, because you are the cost. you are the talent and potential that he took. you used to be brave and smart and clever and unafraid. like a lich, he stole years of your life.
quiet on set made you sad and sick and tired, but not surprised. unfortunately, one of the things he said was true: an entire network of people allowed it to continue. this is not news to you, because you have seen entire networks of people make the same fucking excuses when the same thing or-worse happened to you. and your particular story isn't even in hollywood. it was just a guy. it was still difficult getting people to stand up for you.
you and your friend wait in line for your coffee. like a standup joke, one man turns to the other and says "can't wait for every bitch to come crawling out of the woodwork complaining about harassment. it's another metoo." and you think - oh, that's the network. your boss tucks her hair back and whispers that while your skirt is cute, you're giving the boys the wrong idea. that's the network. when you'd told your "friend" about what happened, she'd said oh you must have misunderstood, that would never happen. and that's the network.
you woke up this morning panting, because years later you still have panic attacks. oh, it's not a network, actually, it's a web. and you, little moth: are you still surprised you're caught in it?
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berzahoes · 4 months
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moments | tom blyth
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summary: moments with tom and you <3 oh, and keanu reeves is also there! (reeves!reader)
an: nepo baby reader my beloved 🫶🏼
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ON SET OF BILLY THE KID
since your dad had a few weeks off, he decided to visit you and tom on the set of billy the kid, which was filming in canada. tom was nervous since this would be the first time your dad would see him act in person. you understood why since your dad was a big name in hollywood (and also named the nicest guy).
“he just texted, he’s here.” you told tom, who was in already in his billy the kid attire. you were hanging out in his trailer until he was called to set.
“is this really happening?” tom sighed. “keanu reeves is going to see me act . . . holy shit.”
“just pretend he’s not there or just relax. he loves you and he loves everything you’ve been in.” you stood up from the chair and walked over to him.
“apart from being a big actor, he’s your dad. what if he sees that i’m not good enough to be with you?”
“if he ever says anything like that, run. that’s not the real keanu reeves,” you replied and placed a kiss on his lips. “i’ll be right back, I’m going to go find him.”
“i have to be on set in two minutes. i’ll meet you guys over there.” tom said as you exited his trailer in search of your dad.
eventually, you found him talking to the stunt coordinator about, one of his favorite subjects, motorcycles.
“sorry to interrupt,” you apologized for cutting into their conversation.
“no worries, i better get going. it was really nice talking to you. thank you.” the stunt coordinator said as he walked away.
“tom said he’s going to meet us on set. they’re about to start filming.” you and your dad walked to where tom had told you to go.
“this is really nice. did you see that horse over there? beautiful horse. remember when you didn’t want to ride the horse on set of john wick?” keanu teased. you rolled your eyes playfully and kept walking to the set.
the scene tom would be filming was the opening scene of the whole show. your dad quickly made friends with the producers and director and sat by them when filming began. you watch your boyfriend get into character and deliver his lines perfectly. you didn’t know what it was, but you loved seeing him as billy the kid.
“cut! that was great, tom! we got it!” the director shouted. immediately your dad started applauding as loud as he could.
then tom joined you and your dad. “tom, that was amazing. you did an incredible job.” your dad complimented him.
“thank you, sir. it means a lot that you’re here.” tom replied. he still couldn’t believe keanu freaking reeves watched him act. you two have been together for quite a while so he didn’t have to be so nervous around your dad. but he was and hearing keanu say such kind words to him calmed him down.
“dad was talking about the horse.” you said, pointing to the horse that tom called his.
before you knew it, both of your guys were walking in the direction of the horse.
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LUNCH WITH THE FAMILY
it was a nice day out in new york city. before you dad started filming for his new movie, he wanted to have lunch with you, tom and his partner, alexandra. he picked out where you would have lunch and texted you the address. it wasn’t that far from tom’s apartment so you decided to walk.
“what do you think your dad is going to say about this?” tom asked, referring to his recently bleached blonde hair.
“i think he’ll like it. i like it, but i do kiss the brown hair.” you admitted. soon enough, you made it to the restaurant. your dad had gotten an outside table so you easily spotted him and alexandra waiting for you and tom.
tom had a hat on so your had hadn’t noticed the blonde hair until tom took it off. alexandra gasped as keanu chuckled. “you look great, man.” he brought tom in for a hug.
“you do look great, tom.” alexandra agreed and stood up from her chair to greet you and tom.
“hi, sweetheart,” keanu said as he hugged you and kissed your cheek. “when are you going blonde?”
“never. i think the only time i ever dyed my hair was when i had a mental breakdown during seventh grade and dyed my hair red.” you said as you sat next to tom.
“she had me up at two am helping her rinse because she didn’t want to get dye on her fingers.” keanu continued.
“you had red hair? i need to see that.” tom chuckled.
eventually the paparazzi found you and they kept some distance, but they still annoyed you. you four took the opportunity to mess with them and posed with peace signs or funny faces. it reminded you of the times when you did the exact same thing years ago with your dad. whenever he took you out to eat, the paparazzi would arrive seconds later taking pictures of you two. keanu suggested making faces at the camera so you did just that. now, you were doing the same thing but with your boyfriend, dad and stepmom.
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KEANU REEVES, PROFESSIONAL THIRD WHEEL
“how’s the family?” stephen colbert asked. you dad was a guest and his show and he loved any chance he had to talk about you.
“family is doing really great, thanks for asking. i’ve spending a lot of time with my daughter. her and i are doing lots of activities like pottery, she loves pottery.” he explained.
“that’s great. and do you two always hang out when you’re not busy?” stephen asked.
“yeah, she sometimes has her friends over and i call her and ask if i could come over and then i take her friends and her to dinner or bowling.” he laughed as he remembered all the times he took your friends out so he could also spend time with you.
“i don’t know if you’re aware of this, but twitter has actually named you the professional third wheel because of these photos.” stephen showed keanu and the audience some paparazzi photos of you and tom walking hand in hand down the streets of new york and to the side was your dad with an ice cream cone in his hand.
“oh man, i mean it was going to happen,” keanu said. you and your dad actually had an agreement about what stuff he could share about when it came to being asked about you in interviews. “tom is a great guy, he’s the best.it looks like they’re annoyed with me, but I promise they’re not.” he laughed as another picture was shown of tom talking to him, but he was still holding your hand. whatever it was that tom and your dad were talking about, it seemed really interesting since they weren’t paying attention to you at all.
“oh no,” keanu hid his face in embarrassment. “she looks mad at me, i hope she wasn’t mad.”
“this is my favorite one yet.” stephen added as another picture came on screen.
the picture showed you on your phone walking while your dad and tom walked behind laughing hysterically at something that someone had said.
“are you sure i’m the third wheel?” keanu joked as the audience laughed.
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“is tom blyth single?”
the cast of the ballad of songbirds and snakes were doing the wired autocomplete interview and it was tom’s turn to answer questions.
“i am not. i have a beautiful, lovely wonderful girlfriend.” he answered with a smile.
“and his name is keanu reeves!” rachel added followed by josh laughing.
“the pictures don’t lie, tom!”
1K notes · View notes
calumfmu · 1 month
Text
sugar coated melting.
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Being assistant to the famous Steve Harrington wasn't an easy task, he was demanding as ever and made sure he was nice to everyone but you. But a job was a job, and it was the cost of working in Hollywood.
Famous!Steve Harrington x Assistant!reader (modern!au, with 40's Steve) 7.5k+ words
cw: older Steve Harrington, smut, loss of virginity, inexperienced!reader, AFAB reader, angst (what's new), mentions of death, swearing, 18+, mdni
Working with one of the most famous actors in the world was draining, exhausting, taxing, everything you could negatively describe. He was such a high maintenance person, he made your job seem like a constant boot camp run for the Navy Seals. Your best friend had cackled at that supply of information.
Steve wasn’t a bad person, no. He was handsome (obviously, he had been voted most handsome of the previous 2 years in a row), kind (to most people—who weren’t you), and compassionate (he let you eat his leftovers that one time you had gotten stuck on set for 16 straight hours). You were getting paid to say nice things about him if anyone had asked.
Life working as his head assistant was just a drag. It was everything you had dreamed of doing when you were a kid, working in Hollywood with big A-listers, attending red carpets, seeing the way movies worked. The job wasn’t the problem, it… was him.
A script was shoved into your hands as you thought of giving it to the man. The look on his face was burned into the back of your mind, irritation crossing his features as you imagined giving him the bad news. He always took things out on you, attitude forward as he said some slick remark.
Last minute script change, typical of productions like these. Something that anyone could expect while working on these things. Anyone with a normal level of patience would handle it well, take it with stride.
Your fingers rapped against the trailer door, aluminum warm to the touch from the sun beating down on it. Movement sounded behind the door, mumbling a few words out at you.
The door swung open, Steve rubbing at his eyes with his hair sticking in every direction. Fuck, he was asleep. It made it so much worse delivering the news.
“Heyyy, boss,” you beamed, voice raising a few octaves. You held out the script to him, cringing slightly. “Nothing too crazy, just a sliight chan-”
“No,” the door slammed in your face, your eyes closing as the bright reflection shone on you. Your smile immediately dropped, the reflection of your face on the white aluminum door looking back at you.
Red seethed through you, frustration prickling at the back of your neck. You knocked again, this day becoming even longer with each passing second.
“Mr. Harrington.” You were met with silence, ear pressing to the door to hear any movement. You waited a beat, knocking more urgently.
“Don’t want it, tell them no,” he grumbled behind the door, his voice sounded across the trailer, muffled through the closed door.
You took a deep breath, trying to find the patience to not go off on him. You were his assistant, not his agent, not the director of the film, not anything else. What did he realistically think you were going to do about a script change?
“‘M just delivering it, Mr. Harrington.” Your voice was level. “I don’t even think it’s your lines that changed.”
A faint note of music came through the door, Steve deciding to tune you out. Looking towards the sky, you squinted, finding prayer between the clouds.
“Mr. Harrington!”
Another PA walked by you, speaking into the earpiece she had with a clipboard in hand. You raised a hand to greet her, faux smile crossing your lips as you pretended everything was okay. She waved back, making her way in between the trailers and out of your eyesight.
As soon as she disappeared, your fist came up to bang at the door, louder than before.
It opened in the middle of your fit, you nearly stumbled into the trailer. You cut your eyes at your boss, biting your tongue at the swear words that threatened to come out.
The man was well past 30 years old, but still acted like a spoiled brat.
“Fine,” he said through his teeth, grabbing the stack of papers from your hand. He barely glanced at it before tossing it on the small couch behind him. Your eyes followed it, noticing the mess of bottles on the floor around it.
He followed your gaze with his own eyes, stepping into your eyesight as he closed the door slightly.
“Anything else, Yn?” A pinch of attitude at your name. Typical.
You smiled at the man, frustration disappearing as you were just grateful this episode of his didn’t last as long as it did last week.
“No, sir, that would be it for me,” you gave him a slightly bow, clasping your hands in front of you before swiveling on your heel. Descending the mini set of stairs, you rolled your eyes, back to him as you descended. “Fucking twat.”
“I heard that!” His voice was far behind you, your feet moving fast across the blacktops. You smiled back at him, waving as confusion crossed your features.
“Sorry sir, I said it was fucking hot!” You lied straight through your teeth. “Outside, you know? Pardon my language.”
You rolled your eyes once more, turning back on your mission to get back inside the building. You and him both knew what you said, but you didn’t have it in you to care. Nothing you did would get you fired, trust, have you tried.
It was like you were in your own personal Purgatory. You assumed Steve liked you, he wouldn’t fire you even on your worst days. You had fucked up many times, forgetting things, slipping up on his to do list, calling the wrong people for the wrong events. More recently, he had heard the rude nicknames you had for him, and he just didn’t seem to care.
You had heard him one time, whisper under his breath about “best help in Hollywood”. It was sarcastic of course, his eye roll you’ve been well acquainted with to follow.
The last few weeks have been more of a hell for you, Steve becoming more temperamental and moody, you becoming the worst employee on planet Earth. You begged to be fired at this point, your shot at unemployment looking more and more appetizing.
A sudden ring cut through the air, your back pocket buzzing. Pulling it out, you nearly ripped your hair out, Steve’s contact popping up on the screen. I could ignore it, you thought. This could finally be my chance at escaping him.
Your thoughts were cut short, the phone ringing again as Steve's name popped up. He didn't even let the first one finish before trying you again.
"Oh, Mr. Harrington," you breathed, hand pressed into your brow as you answered. "Hi, sorry, sir. Did you need me?"
"Need you to come back," you heard him say, voice muffled as he seemed to be doing other things on the other side of the line. Your feet responded before your brain did, autopilot in motion. "Script's not fucking working, and I just-"
Something fell in the background, and your footsteps faltered. You ignored it, rolling your eyes yet again at his antics.
"Are you okay, sir?" You asked, seeing his trailer in the distance. One of the trailer windows had its blinds half up, he paced back and forth.
You approached it, listening to him as he rambled on the phone, speaking about how much he hated this director and his damn agent for giving him these roles. Fighting back laughter, you cosigned with him, not choosing to mention that this stupid role was worth $13 million.
You raised your fist to knock at the door, it swinging open before you could even make a noise. The three dial tones of the phone call ending rung in your ears, Steve grumbling at you to enter.
"A-are you sure, sir?" Hesitation filled you, you weren't used to stepping into his trailer. You think you'd been in it once during the last seven months of production, grabbing his left behind cell phone before they traveled to location.
Steve didn't look at you the whole time, just muttering words under his breath as he held the brand new scripts in his hand. He was pacing, feet burning holes in the carpet of the trailer.
You slowly stepped in, apprehensively closing the door behind you. Hands clasped in front of you, you stood in close proximity to the door, eyes shifting over the large trailer.
He had clothes thrown over one end of the vehicle, previous scripts sitting on the makeshift table, and a half full glass of a dark colored liquid next to it. You eyed it, brow furrowing as you swore this man had been sober for the past few years--or at least, that's what the news outlets said about him. Not like you kept up.
"Sir," you interjected his thoughts, causing him to stop in place. He still didn't look at you. "Why am I here?"
Curt answers were the easiest way for you to pretend to be nice to him. You knew you couldn't be outright rude, this was your boss after all. Saying stuff under your breath and if he accidentally heard was another thing.
He ignored you.
"How is this supposed to be the Oscar nomination when they have me acting like this?" He exhaled a small shout at the end of his words, your eyes squinting at the volume. "Does this make sense to you? It's like they want me to make a fool of myself, no?"
You shifted uncomfortably, glancing at the floor. "I'm not sure how you want me to answer that, sir."
He waited a moment, sighing loudly as he collapsed on the couch, arm thrown over his eyes. You looked at him then, seeing the way his chest heaved as he shook his eyes. The sun was setting now, golden hour lighting inching through the windows over his figure. His bed head was still wild, even more messy than it was previously.
"W-what would you like me to do, sir?" You asked, arms crossing over your chest as you felt the awkwardness creep into the air. This was the longest you had been in a room with him, at least, with no one around.
Glancing at the watch on your wrist, you took note of your 'shift' being almost over. It was a quarter to seven, your freedom lingering in the distance.
"Sir?"
"Enough!" He cut out, breaking his silence. You jumped at the words, ducking your head as his outburst came. This was the Steve you knew, the short tempered boss who was always so moody whenever things didn't go his way.
You opted for silence, not daring to speak as you awaited his next choice of words.
His arm left his face, palm running down his features as he stared into the ceiling of the trailer.
"Sorry, I just," his voice was significantly lower. He sat up on the edge of the couch, his palms resting on his thighs. "I just need you to take me home."
Your eyes closed briefly, irritation quickly crossing you as you realized this was going to be a longer day than you imagined. If Steve had needed you longer than you were scheduled, then so be it.
"Why?" The word wasn't supposed to come out, replacing the 'okay' that sat on the edge of your mouth.
His gaze cut to you quickly, searching your face as you stood there. Eyes burning slightly, you felt tears prickling. The pint of Ben & Jerry's ice cream, and Friends rerun marathon looking further away from you could bring you to tears.
"Because I employ you, do I not?" The harshness in his words did nothing but fuel the 'Hollywood Tell All' feature you planned for the day you quit.
"You do, sir, yes," You muttered, hands dropping to your side in defeat. "I just thought you'd drive yourself like normal. You know, day ends, and I'll see you here the next day, eight sharp like normal."
"I can't--no," he answered, standing up as he gathered his things. "I don't have to explain myself to you. You just need to take me home. You can drive my car."
The words to protest him were lost in your throat. You complied with his actions, eyes to the floor as he finished gathering his things. Following him out of the trailer, you sighed, feeling like you were walking into a lion's den.
The walk to the private lot was silent, Steve grumbling to himself as he texted someone on his phone. You noticed his phone ringing several times, his thumb finding the red button to end it each time. Curse words came out of his mouth every few seconds, a few from your own mouth being added to the mix as you thought of ways to leave.
As the two of you came across an old school beemer sitting deep in the parking lot, he threw the keys at you, settling into the passenger seat. Reluctantly, you slide in the driver's seat, feeling the leather interior beneath your fingers.
"Nice car, boss," You whispered, checking out how the car didn't even look a day out of 1985. Steve side eyed you, nodding at the compliment before returning to his phone.
"Get us there in one piece, yeah?"
You sucked your teeth as his comment, shaking your head before starting the car. It was like it was impossible for him to be a decent person. Here you were, doing something for this man which may or may not be in your contract, and he couldn't even say thank you to a compliment about his car.
The ride was silent save for an old tape that played in the car. Some band from the 80's you noted, a little too old for your taste. Steve's fingers tapped away at his phone, not focused on the LA traffic you sat in for most of the drive. He gave you directions to his swanky high rise, ignored you as you struggled to keep up with him.
You pulled into an underground garage, valet men coming immediately, opening the door for you as they took the keys. Everything happened in such fast motion, you barely noticed he was half way to the elevator. Jogging to catch up with him, you turned your own attention to your phone, thumb hovering over the Uber app.
Steve took a call, fingers rapidly pressing the elevator button as he spoke (yelled) at the person on the other end.
"No, Robin, I'm not doing that, okay?" He said, voice gruff as he glanced at you. You heard the static voice of the person on the other line, seeming to be yelling at him too.
The elevator dinged, the two of your bodies stepping in as the doors opened. The transportation app on your phone lagged, loading bar stagnant on your screen.
"No, I get it, it's been years. Fine, I-" Steve groaned in frustration, eyes repeatedly shifting over to you as you tried to tune out the phone call. You stared at the numbers the elevator passed, the first floor blinking by before you could say anything. Your phone remain in your hand, screen dimming as it began to time out.
"Robin. I know."
The voice on the other line picked up, the woman's voice growing even louder. Steve pulled the phone away from his ear slightly, grimacing at the volume. The elevator stopped at a floor labeled 'P', doors opening to a mini lobby that ended in double doors. He went over to unlock them, key fob in his hands as a beep sounded through the empty room.
As he stepped through them, phone balanced on his shoulder with his ear pressed to it, he looked at you. You stood right outside the elevator, doors closing behind you as you didn't know what to do.
He held open his front door, hand waving at you in frustration. "Well, are you coming in?"
You pressed your lips together, another wave of irritation pulling at your teeth. Eyes half rolling, you nodded, entering the doors as he closed and locked it behind you.
Steve moved fast, throwing his jacket over a couch that lay in the middle of the giant room, toeing off his shoes by its side. You stood in place, not sure what to do as your boss made his way around his home.
You took note of the place, not picturing that he would live in a place like this. It was modern, with a touch of old school fashion. Retro furniture, expensive nonetheless. Floor to ceiling windows, overlooking the city. However, not a touch of life, no personal pictures, no sign of family, or anything personal that may shine light on what type of person he truly was.
You stepped in further to the place, watching as Steve made his way to a cabinet in his kitchen. Observing him over the breakfast bar, you saw into the open kitchen, watched him as he grabbed a rocks glass and a bottle of something pushed far back into a cabinet.
He continued on the phone, placing it on speaker as he began to open the bottle. He struggled at first, face turning up as his hands twisted on the cap.
Slowly making your way around the room, you glanced around, expecting him to yell at you for even being here, despite inviting you in.
"Steve," you heard the voice on the other line say. His eyes drifted towards the phone, pouring a hefty shot. "All I'm saying is, I miss you. And care for you. I love you. I want you to be okay today, alright?"
Steve grunted in response, not noticing your proximity to him. You cleared your throat slightly, wanting to gain his attention.
The woman on the phone waited for more of a response. Once it was clear she wasn't going to get one, she sighed. "If you change your mind, you know where to find us."
"Yeah sure," his tone was rude, eyes boring into the glass of dark liquid that sat in front of him. His fingers danced at the rim.
"Eddie would've wanted you to come."
Steve's body language immediately stiffened, finger moving to hang up the phone before throwing back the shot of liquor. His face grimaced at the taste, slamming the glass back on the table.
You didn't know what to say, looking anywhere but at your boss.
"Fuck, I forgot you were even here," he suddenly said, hand running through his hair. His hand was on his hip, eyes glossy as he looked at you. You chewed at your bottom lip, nodding as he stared at you. He pointed to the alcohol, shrugging. "Drink?"
Declining, your head shook. "I don't drink, sir."
"Ahh," he said, grabbing the glass and bottle as he headed towards the couch. "Good girl."
He threw himself down on the furniture, exhaling loudly as he stretched out. His eyes were closed as you stood across the room.
"Hey, I-I think I'm gonna go," you said, beginning to walk towards the exit. "I'll see you tomorrow."
As you crossed the room, Steve's voice called out to you. Your movements stopped, turning on your heel to look at him.
"Stay?" He asked you, eyes huge as they looked in your direction. You took note of his features, blinking at him as he awaited your response. Your boss was approaching his 40's, however, in this moment, he looked just like a little kid. Pictures of him in his teen years you had seen on the Internet were pushed to the forefront of your mind.
"I don't think that's a good idea, Mr. Harrington," you muttered, wanting to leave the scene.
His eyes fell to the floor briefly before he spoke out, "Steve."
"Huh?" You were confused, this sudden change in his attitude.
"You can call me Steve," he said, shifting his body as he relaxed into the couch. "We've known each other for a few years now, figured we should might as well be on a first name basis."
Fighting back the eye roll, you were reminded in the ways your boss had made your life into chaos.
"I bet you a million dollars, you don't even know my name, sir."
His gaze softened, laughing out loud as your hard exterior slowly came back.
"Yn." He muttered, smile dancing at his mouth.
You didn't know what to say, stuck between dashing out of his apartment or staying and seeing what type of Steve Harrington you were going to get today.
"I figure I should apologize for the way I've acted today," he said, turning forward as his gaze left your way. You didn't know why, but your feet followed it, walking closer so you could sit next to him. Lowering your self on the couch, you felt self conscious, like he was going to snap any second.
You snorted, "Today?"
He was staring at the bottle of alcohol in front of him, smile still on his face. Laughing at your comment, he shrugged.
"I have been a dick, haven't I?" He whispered, shaking his head as the smile slowly dropped from his face. His voice dropped to a whisper, eyes unfocused as he stared in front of himself. "Such a fucking dick."
You didn't know why, but you felt the need to comfort the man. He was clearly going through something at the moment, if the look alone on his face was any tell.
"Hey, not too bad of one," you wanted to reach out to grab him.
"Don't lie," he laughed, head turning your way. His eyes met yours, deep brown staring into the color of yours. You noticed moles dotting his face, slight lines of aging covering his features. He was still youthful, his eyes telling the tale of a once young boy who was within. "I've been terrible. And you don't deserve that."
A pang hit your heart, feeling the weight of his words. You didn't really deserve his treatment. No matter if he paid you or not.
He continued his words, eyes staring past you. "And yet here I am, sitting here with my assistant. Drinking for the first time in years." A laugh bubbled out of him, hands running down his face as he leaned further back into the couch. "You know I'm supposed to be in Indiana right now?"
You shook your head, not wanting to interrupt him. Making yourself comfortable, you took off your shoes, slipping your feet underneath yourself.
"Well, I'm supposed to be in Indiana, it's the 20th anniversary of, uhm," his voice cracked, eyes welling up with a tear that was blinked back. "It's the anniversary of one of my friend's dying, and I'm not there."
Breath catching in your throat, you didn't know what to say.
"I'm sorry, sir," you muttered, hand reaching out to rest at his thigh. The touch was inappropriate, but so was this interaction you could say.
He looked down at your hand, watching your thumb as it brushed over his jeans.
"It's okay," he responded, eyes finding yours again. "It's been so long."
You nodded, eyes scanning his face as he forced the corners of his mouth to be turned into a smile. You saw right through it, recognizing the pain of a lost loved one straight through. "I don't think that matters."
His face dropped, sincerity crossing his features as he dipped to glance at your hand once more. Silence over took the two of you, the faint sounds of the streets of LA below you, Steve's staggered breathing as he willed himself not to cry. You were patient, finding comfort in the air as he found his words.
"We were all so young, and it feels so long ago, almost like it doesn't exist anymore," he finally said, voice even. "But I know it does. I just have to face it, I've been running from it ever since it happened."
He gestured to his surroundings, and the puzzle clicked into place. This fame and jerk persona that Steve carried himself in, hid the real him. He ran from all of his problems, like anyone else would, especially when dealing with something as traumatic like he had.
You didn't know the details, didn't care to ask, since it seemed to affect him so much. All you knew was that person who had passed so long ago did matter to him, in ways that you couldn't imagine.
Letting him continue his mumblings about the person he used to know, you found out that his name had been Eddie, the one you heard on the phone before. Robin, long time best friend of his, was trying to get him to come out to reconnect with everyone, he hadn't seen much of them since the 'accident', as he had called it. He kept in touch with everyone over the phone, but seeing them in person was a whole different story. It opened up old wounds that he was afraid of what it might bring out.
The story was slightly confusing, him mentioning something about how they all had nearly lost their lives, details that would leave you wondering what this man had gone through. None of this information was available about him in the public, his childhood always being a vague story that never connected.
"So you have kids then?" You questioned, confused on how you never picked up on this detail. There had to have been at least five of them, names you had never heard before now.
Steve laughed suddenly, shaking his head as his hand rested on your own thigh. The two of you were much closer now, as his story unfolded. Your thighs were touching, each other's hands on resting upon each other, mere inches away from your faces.
"No, I don't have any. I guess, I should stop calling them kids now, you know?" His laugh was low in his throat. "They have kids of their own at this point, so they're far from it."
"Oh..." You were dumbfounded, all of this information being at a loss to you. You weren't here to understand, just here to listen.
"You know what, I'm sorry," he suddenly said, removing his hand from your leg. You wanted to whine at the absence, cold replacing his warm touch. "Maybe you should go, actually. This is pretty, uhm..."
"Unprofessional?" You supplied, inching closer as your boss sat there, wide eyed looking at you. In the dark light of his apartment, you could see the way his brown eyes glimmered at you. "I guess we're even then, me calling you a twat earlier."
Steve cackled, pinching the bridge of his nose as he thought of the events earlier.
"I knew you said that!"
You blushed, fighting back your own smile.
"It's not my fault, you were acting like one." Your lips pursed together, observing the older man in front of you.
Silence crept over you, the first break in conversation since his phone call ended earlier. Steve stared at you, eyes darting over your features as his teeth scraped over his bottom lip. You felt shy under his gaze, not knowing what to think of the moment as your boss was closer in proximity than he had ever been in your life.
"Can I make it up to you?"
His voice was low, and you were nodding before you even knew what he meant. Grabbing your cheek in his hand, the man leaned forward, capturing your lips into his. The gasp in your throat was lost in his mouth, a shuttering moan coming out instead.
His lips were soft, slightly chapped as they moved against yours. Fluttering your eyes closed, you leaned into the kiss, moving your hand so it rest at the curve of his hip, belt loop curling in your fingers.
He tasted of whiskey, the remnants of the few shots he had earlier lingering on his tongue. Steve pulled away slightly, muttering, "This okay?" against your lips as you nodded, pulling him in by his hair with your other hand.
Your breath grew more shallow as the kiss continued, leaning back as Steve began to tower over you. He shifted in his seat, covering your body with his own as he began to push you back into the couch. His figure was large over yours, scent of vanilla and cedar nearly suffocating you.
With your back flush against the couch, Steve removed himself from your lips, pressing a slight kiss against your jaw. You arched into the touch, palms running over the tight muscle of his back.
"S-steve," you moaned, squeezing your eyes shut as his lips kissed over your neck. Each press of his mouth sent fireworks down your spine.
He returned his lips to yours, moving with a passion that was lacking previously, confidence replacing the apprehension he once felt.
Your legs spread, inviting him to nestle in between, the thick material of his jeans rubbing against your own. A bulge was present, the thought of what lay underneath sending goosebumps over your skin.
Steve was lost in the kiss, his mouth nipping at yours as he reached down to unbutton your pants, slipping a hand to run over the front of your panties.
"W-wait," you muttered, grabbing his wrist as you pulled away from the kiss. He was confused, mouth red and swollen. His fingers pressed at your covered clit, a small shot of pleasure running through you.
"What's wrong, Yn?" The hand connected to his elbow that propped him up, ran through your hair, tucking a strand behind your ear. Concern crossed his features, searching your face as doubt crossed it.
"I just, uhh," you felt shy, avoiding his eye contact as the words stumbled out. "I've never really done this before?"
His eyes bulged out, sitting up suddenly as he leaned over you. Closing your eyes in embarrassment, you pressed the palm of your hand to your forehead. Way to ruin the moment.
"Oh," he breathed, eyes wide as he scanned you. "We don't-- fuck, sorry. I'm so, uh, wow."
He stood up suddenly, leaving you laying on your back as embarrassment colored your cheeks. You didn't know what to say as the older man panicked.
"Maybe, uh, maybe this was a bad idea," he shook his head, hand reaching down to palm at the front of his pants. Your eyes followed his hand, noticing the prominent bulge.
You spoke out, shaking your head as you didn't make any effort to move. The turn of events tonight made you realize how much you did want the man who stood before you.
"No, we can, it's okay," you said, reaching out to grab his hand that hung by his side. He looked down at your grasp before bringing his eyes to meet yours. "It's alright."
He hesitated, sputtering over something to say.
"Steve, it's okay," you pulled him down, his knees straddling the sides of your hips as he reluctantly settled into the couch. His eyes ran over your body, lingering at the spot where your pants were unbuttoned, cotton panties exposed.
"A-are you sure?" He questioned, moving to lean back down over you. You nodded, leaning up on your elbows to press a chaste kiss to his lips. His tongue darted out, wetting your bottom lip.
A breathy moan escaped your mouth, palm caressing the front of his shirt.
"I want to, it's fine."
You knew it was now or never, this moment with your boss being an opportunity that you couldn't have passed up. You always had a crush on him growing up, the face of Hollywood you would see in your teen magazines, posters covering the room of your friends. Working for him would've never had you imagining that it would lead to this moment.
Steve took control of the situation, kissing down your neck as his hand returned between your legs, pants thrown across the room somewhere. It had happened so fast, you barely noticed the cool air that pulled goosebumps from your skin.
"Tell me if you want to stop, okay?" He muttered, freshly shaved stubble prickling against your chin. You could barely get out a moan as your underwear was pulled down your legs, catching at the crook of your ankles.
You felt his fingers brush over your folds, pressing lightly at the slick entrance. His thumb rubbed in small circles over your small bundle of nerves, an eye-rolling feeling that spread your legs apart. His fingers pushed inside, his own moan coming out over yours.
The feeling of the intrusion had you panting, spreading your legs wider while his thick fingers worked you.
"M-more," you begged, throwing your head back as his fingers found a rhythm. He stretched you out over two fingers at this point, thumb collecting slick as it rubbed over your clit.
Steve's fingers curled inside of you, brushing against your sweet spot deep inside. The look on his face was one of admiration, mouth slack as he looked down at you falling apart under his touch.
"That's okay?" His voice was husky, deep with arousal as your hips began to move in time with his fingers. Your orgasm was approaching, hips moving on their own accord as you chased that high.
"God, yes, Steve."
Pushing your shirt up past your bra, Steve gaped at the sight before him, your fingers dipping inside your bra to toy at your own breasts.
"You look so perfect, angel," he muttered, leaning down to capture your lips into his as you fell apart. That white blinding of your orgasm crept in, starting at the base of your spine and blossoming through your entire body. Against his mouth, you shouted out, squeezing your eyes shut as he fingered you through the high.
It took a minute for you to catch your breath, legs spasming from the shocks of the orgasm. You hissed at the over stimulation, Steve pressing into your clit one last time before removing himself from you.
You felt shy suddenly, the haze from the orgasm clearing as you realized you had just done unimaginable things with your boss. Seeming to read your mind, Steve pressed small kisses around the perimeter of your face.
"It's alright," he said, hovering over you. Against your thigh, you could feel his bulge rub against you. "How are you feeling, good?"
You nodded, words at a loss in your throat. You reached up to place a hand on his neck, the other at his waist as you played with the hem of his shirt. His eyes fluttered close briefly before glancing down at where you were slightly tugging his shirt up.
He made eye contact with you, chewing on his bottom lip. "I need words, angel. Gotta make sure everything is 100% okay, okay?"
"I'm alright, Steve," you gasped, looking down where your own hand rubbed at the exposed part of his abdomen. You needed more, wanted to feel him all over you. You began to pull his shirt over his body, watching as he glanced down at you with hooded eyes. "Just need more of you."
He slowly nodded, sitting back on his knees as he unbuttoned his own pants and slid them down his legs. You giggled at him as he struggled to get them off, the smoothness he had previously disappearing as he nearly toppled off the couch.
You pulled your own shirt and bra off of you, dropping them on the floor next to the couch. "Nice own, old man," you laughed, returning to your spot against the couch.
He frowned at you, lip jutting out in an over exaggerated pout. "Heeyy, I still got it."
You were left breathless, the laughter disappearing at the tip of your tongue as his figure returned to cover your body. The tip of his cock nudged at your entrance, the wetness pooling at the head leaving you gasping.
Steve reached down to rub his cock against the length of your cunt, spreading the slick all over as you arched into him.
"Fuuckk, Steve." You hooked your ankle over his hip, warmness pooling in your belly at the thought of him being inside you. His eyes raked over you, lingering on your nipples as they shook with each moan you gave.
"You sure about this, Yn?" He asked, leaning down to dart his tongue over the skin of your breast. It sent shivers down your spine, another wave of heat rushing to your core. "I don't want to do anything you'll regret."
"'M not gonna regret this," you gasped, feeling the way the head of his cock slightly pushed at you. It burned, fuck, he was big.
The slight intrusion had you gripping at his back, leaving crescent moon marks in the skin. Your breath came out ragged, a whine scratching at the back of your throat.
Steve grunted at you, pushing in slowly as he buried his head into your shoulder. He stopped every few inches, hips stuttering slightly as he fought back to urge to fuck back into you full force.
Being an all new feeling, you couldn't help but mewl at every burn of the stretch, a fullness you had never experienced before.
He pressed to the hilt, hips flush against yours as Steve gasped for air in tune with you. He pulled his head back to make eye contact with you, forehead resting against yours. You felt the slight grinding of his hips against yours, the fullness becoming too much as you were stretched over him.
"You gotta bare with me, baby." The nickname had you moaning, fingers reaching down to dig at the plumpness of his ass. You could barely keep your eyes open, senses overwhelmed with Steve. "'S been a while for me."
Nodding, you gasped as he reared his hips back before they stuttered into you again. The movement sent a wave of slick between your thighs again, pleasure blinding you.
He found his rhythm, hips fucking into you slowly, languidly as you fell apart beneath him. You rocked with every movement of his hips, hands running over the tan skin of his body above you.
Finding his lips, you moaned against his mouth, savoring the feeling that was building up in your abdomen as the two of you moved in sync.
Steve gave you words of affirmation, hips drilling into you over and over as his cock brushed over your deep bundle of nerves. Bliss approached you once more, wetness dripping all over him as you were brought to that high again.
"Gonna cum, Steve," you whispered against his mouth, back arching into him. He reached down between you, fingers toying at your clit as they began to rub in small circles.
"Cum for me baby," he breathed, voice low as your eyes rolled back. His voice brought you over the edge, high shout escaping your lips as that pleasure took over you again.
As he fucked your through your orgasm, his own approached, hips losing their rhythm as you felt his release deep inside you. A low groan of his came out, a breathy fuck being the last thing you remember before you closed your eyes.
Your body felt light, head foggy as you came down from your orgasm. It was pure bliss what you felt, heart pounding in your chest as sleep took over you.
You shot out of bed, frantically searching for your phone as you realized the sun was creeping through the curtains. Crisp, white sheets were pooled around you, swallowing you up whole.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you muttered, trying to search for your device in the darkness of the room. The dark curtains were drawn, only allowing a sliver of light in, but enough for you to realize how late in the morning it was.
As your eyes adjusted to the darkness, anxiety crept over you, realizing you weren't in your room. A tossing figure lay next to you, his body half covered as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. In that moment, everything from last night came crashing back, embarrassment flooding your cheeks.
"Hey, Yn, what's wrong?" Steve's voice was groggy, as he blinked in the darkness of the room. He glanced towards the curtains and then to you, noticing the way you covered your frame with the corner of the sheet.
"What time is it?" You half shouted, looking on the bedside table for your phone. Steve was no help, slowly stretching out his limbs as he yawned.
"Too fucking early for you to be that loud," he muttered, sitting up on his elbows. The sheet pooled around his waist, exposing his bare abdomen and a deep V that cut below his waist.
You quickly looked away, blush deepening on your face. "We have to go, Ste-Mr. Harrington. We're gonna be in so much trouble."
You heard him chuckle at you, sighing as he relaxed once again in the bed. His arms circled your waist, pulling you down into him as you continued to panic. He lay behind you, your head resting on his chest as he buried his face into your shoulder.
"Shhh," he whispered, tightening his grip on your waist. "Called in today, came down with something apparently."
You shook your head, resting your hands on his where they rested on your stomach. "Can you even do that?"
"What are they gonna do? Fire me?" He laughed, pressing a light kiss to your shoulder. The anxiety that built up in your spine disappeared at his touch, the familiarity of his body replacing it. You turned in his arms, now chest to chest with the man.
His eyes were closed, sleepiness still evident over his features.
"Are you going to fire me?" You whispered at him, watching as his brow furrowed before he squinted open his eyes at you.
"What? No, what are you talking about?" He seemed genuinely confused at your question, hand rubbing at your waist. Relief took stake in your chest.
"I slept with my boss last night," you laughed at yourself, voice dropping even lower as you saw a smirk cross his face. He was smug, shaking his head with laughter as you playfully slapped at his chest.
"Pretty sure I'm the one with a lawsuit pending if anything," he said, laughter dying as you placed a small peck to his lips.
As you pulled away, he leaned into it further, tongue darting out to lick at yours. A wave of arousal pooled in the pit of your stomach.
He towered over you, mouth nipping at you as you sighed into the kiss. The two of you moved in sync, you moving onto your back as Steve leaned over your figure. A breathy moan escaped your lips, only to be cut off by his phone ringing.
"For fuck's sake," he grumbled, separating himself from you as he reached for it on his side of the bed. He answered it quickly, realizing it was his publicist as he placed it on speaker. "What d'you need, man?"
His lips returned to yours briefly, before kissing down your neck. The sheets were slowly pulled off of you as he made his way down, nipping at your chest, then your nipple, and soft kisses pressed to your stomach.
Your mouth fell open in a silent moan, trying to stay as quiet as possible as his publicist droned on about some appearance he had to make in the next week. Steve was staring up at you, making small confirmation 'mhm's' in response to the phone call. A coy smile was on the corners of your mouth as you looked down at him wide eyed.
'Stop' you mouthed through gritted teeth. He nipped at your hip bone in protest, shaking his head at you.
You couldn't tell if it was Steve's mouth pressing to your heat or the next word's of his publicist that made your stomach drop.
"While we're at it, Steve, how about we talk how Page Six has pictures of you with a mysterious somebody in your apartment building?" They grumbled, voice staticy as it came through the phone. You felt Steve smirk against you, tongue lapping between your legs. "Aren't we a little too old to bring people back to your own place like that?"
A moan escaped you as you gripped at his hair. Steve looked up at you, wide eyed as he reached up to slap a hand across your mouth. 'Shhh', he mouthed, his own laugh threatening to spill out as his publicist's voice faltered at the noise.
"St-steve?" It said, apprehension in the tone. "Are you doing what I think you're doing? Really, man?"
Steve laughed as his hand remained over your mouth, muffling the sounds of your own laughter. They would recognize it if they heard it. He grabbed the phone from where it lay abandon, speaking into it as his thumb hovered the 'end call'.
"Something came up, gotta take care of it," he grimaced at you as you licked his hand. "Bye!"
He hung up right as the voice protested, tossing his phone aside as he leaned over you once again. His long hair hung in his face, eyes raking over your naked body.
"Now... where were we?"
an: I had to sneak in a line from All of Us Strangers because that movie was so moving. If you know, you know. I promise one of these days, I won't make Steve an asshole right off the bat, he'll be lovable.
masterlist. inbox and requests are open!
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honeyedmiller · 1 month
Text
The Hills | Joel Miller
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pairing: actor!joel x f!reader
rating: 18+, minors do not interact.
warnings: no outbreak!joel, joel miller au, use of marijuana (reader gets high and joel takes a hit), alcohol consumption, enemies to not-so-much-enemies, joel is on his freak shit in this one, smut (fingering, ass play, cum eating, rimming, unprotected piv, spitting, m & f oral receiving, consensual choking and breath play), reader is lowkey a brat but joel is also an ass, joel’s twitchy palm™, two (2) ass slaps, reader is described to be wearing a dress and heels, mentions of usage of cocaine (non-descriptive and it’s neither reader or joel using—just had to add the warning), no use of y/n. if there’s anything that i missed, please lmk.
word count: 6.1k
synopsis: drugs. sex. fame. joel miller—the very man you despise. something about hollywood or other. it all seems to become a blurred line when you get invited to an oscars after party at a house in the hills.
a/n: shoutout to @joelsgreys for keeping eyes on this for me, for beta’ing, for letting me rant about this continuously in our texts, etc etc. ily
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Hollywood: the definition of glitz and glamor, celebrities galore, and wild parties.
Right?
Sort of.
You’d been to these afterparties before—chaos, laughter, and drunk or high celebrities every which way. The afterparties that showed the real side of Hollywood’s favorite people. The afterparties where secretive sex ensues in a hidden room tucked in the back of the mansion. The afterparties where people let loose, had fun, and celebrated their wins, or the wins of their friends.
That’s exactly why you were here. This particular multi-million dollar home was chalk-full of familiar famous faces that would get absolutely trashed without the public knowing a single thing about their rendezvous, celebrating each other’s wins.
It was like an unspoken rule amongst all the attendees: what happens at the after party, stays at the after party.
Tess Servopoulos, a well-known actress, was your best friend. She always invited you to the award shows when she could, and made sure you were invited to the afterparties. In this case, it was the after party for The Oscars, where her other best friend was celebrating his wins tonight, taking home three Oscars just hours prior.
And it’s funny, because to you, the devil wasn’t down in Georgia. He was in fucking Los Angeles, California, and his name is Joel Miller.
Arrogant, conceited, and a complete asshole as far as you were concerned. You’d never had a good interaction with the man, always seeming to have targeted hatred toward you for no particular reason.
So you hated him right back.
Because, honestly, who the fuck did he think he was?
You didn’t give two shits if he was an A-lister. Good for him. His arrogance and asshole-ish nature was enough to make you roll your eyes at the mere sight of him. He was one of those people that everybody seemed to absolutely adore, thinking he was doing everyone a solid favor just by being in their presence.
And you think, the fuck does it matter anyway? Your opinion of one man in a room full of elites is about as relevant as a speck of fucking dirt on the bottom of some Louboutins.
You inwardly sighed and drank from the champagne flute that was placed in your hand once you maneuvered your way into the house. Tess dragged you along to say hello to people you’ve met before, and introduced you to those you hadn’t. Most of them were fairly nice, some remembering you from previous parties or recognizing you in god-awful candid shots that paparazzi took of you when you were with Tess.
Tabloids were always a funny thing. There were multiple times where you’d see a photo of yourself in public with Tess, plastered in some stupid celebrity magazine claiming you were her ‘mystery lover.’ Or, there were the times where they’d call you a gold digger; someone who wanted fifteen minutes of fame and all the “luxuries” that came with being acquainted with a celebrity.
You always had a good laugh with Tess about them, and she’d tell you that one day she’d share the story behind you: a college roommate who was her total opposite, but it worked. You were there from the beginning—she’d get casted in parts for commercials, then extras for TV shows, and then bigger roles like a supporting character, and eventually the lead character in many blockbuster hits.
You were her biggest supporter, there for her through her wins and losses. She was truly your platonic soulmate, and you, hers.
You always plastered a smile on your face when making your rounds at these things. Got a little star-struck here and there, but you kept your cool. Celebrities are human beings, after all.
The party was in full swing, people plastered and laughing loudly over the thumping music. Sometimes you thought these parties got a little ridiculous, but you knew this was a rare occasion where these people—faces of the public, under a watchful eye of millions of adoring fans and the scrutinizing media—got the chance to loosen up and be their real selves.
You swirled the champagne around your flute, babysitting the same glass from when you first walked into this party. You leaned against a crisp white wall adorned with what you were sure were very expensive paintings, observing the crowd before you.
The familiarity that drifted through the room was almost unsettling for you. Friends with arms slung over each other’s shoulders, casual and comfortable conversation—and then there was you, who didn’t really know anyone but Tess. She didn’t want to leave your side, but she’d gotten pulled every which way for a conversation and you didn’t want to ride her coattail all night, so you told her you’d get yourself another drink, maybe.
And you were going to, but then the room felt a little too warm. So, naturally, you ventured down another long hallway adorned with paintings and expensive side tables with vases that held fresh flowers that probably cost more than you’d ever see in your lifetime.
Your heels clicked rhythmically against the marble flooring as you made your way to two French double doors that led out to a balcony that was unoccupied.
Perfect.
You opened the doors and sucked in a huge breath of air, admiring the lights gleaming throughout the whole of Los Angeles as far as you could see.
And then you wondered, with every house and apartment and business that was illuminated with a soft yellow light, what each individual occupying these spaces stories were.
People that weren’t famous. People that had regular nine-to-five jobs. People who were desperately trying to make ends meet. People like you, you think.
You loved Tess to death. You’d do anything and everything for her, but Hollywood was secretly a massive headache.
You sighed as you tore your eyes away from the soft lights, opening your clutch to find the joint you brought. Just something to take the edge off and ease the fucking nerves that started coursing through you, unwanted and untimely.
You fished the pre-roll and lighter out of your bag, flicking the lighter on in multiple attempts, but no avail.
You groaned as you kept trying, but the realization that your lighter was done for had swept over you quickly.
“Son of a bitch.” You mutter with a heavy sigh.
“Need a light?” A deep voice asked from behind. A familiar voice. A voice with Southern twang that supposedly charmed every person that was blessed to hear it. A voice you couldn’t fucking stand.
You look over your shoulder to see Joel Miller in the flesh, clad in a crisp white button-down with the top two buttons unbuttoned, exposing his tan chest. The shirt was tucked into some black slacks, accompanied by shiny black shoes.
You hated to admit that he looked good. Real good. But you wouldn’t ever dare to admit that out loud, even with a gun to your head.
“No.” You said, turning back around. His footsteps become closer, and you roll your eyes before you have to restrain yourself from physically shuddering at the proximity between you two.
“Stop bein’ a brat and jus’ take the goddamn light.” Joel rolls his eyes, and you turn to face him. He’s next to you now, leaning against the balcony while holding up a lighter.
You eye him conspicuously, and he looks annoyed as he flicks the lighter on and off. You grit your teeth before slotting the joint between your fingers, bringing it up to your lips.
He easily flicks his lighter on once more, bringing the flame to the end of the joint. The small flame illuminates the space between your bodies, and he looks good with the soft orange glow against his tan skin, you think.
The end of the joint crackles and you inhale deeply, turning your body toward the lights of the city once more.
You blow out the smoke slowly, tilting your head to the side. “Thanks,” You mutter.
“Hm,” He hums, “Would ya look at that. Not that hard to use your manners now, ain’t it?”
“Shut up, Joel. Christ.” You rub your forehead with your thumb, eyebrows pinching together. You came out here for some peace, not to be annoyed and antagonized by the very man you couldn’t stand.
“Hey, I jus’ did ya a favor. No need for that fuckin’ attitude of yours.”
“Jesus fuck, Joel, do you not have anything better to do? Shouldn’t you be fucking one of your whores by now or snorting coke in the bathroom with another beloved A-lister?” You roll your eyes and take another hit.
Joel didn’t like that one bit. He took a step forward, broad body hard to ignore with the heat radiating off of him. Your eyes trail up his chest and to his face, which was contorted with pure anger.
“Who the fuck do you think you are talkin’ to me like that? You’re pissin’ off the wrong person, doll.” Joel’s voice is gruff, full of patience that was smaller than a piece of thread at this point.
“I don’t need to bow down to you just because you’re famous, asshole. You’re the one who’s had the problem with me from the beginning. I only reciprocate the energy I receive, so you can fuck all the way off with the superiority complex you think you have over me.”
“Why the fuck are you here anyway? Hollywood ain’t a place for naïve girls like you.” Joel quirks his harsh brow at you, like he’s challenging you.
Motherfucker.
“And who said I was naïve, cowboy? You don’t know a damn thing about me.”
“I know that you’re annoyin’ and don’t fuckin’ belong here. God knows what Tess sees in you as a friend n’ why she keeps invitin’ you to these things.”
Your blood ran hot as you stared at the man in front of you. His jaw was set in a hard line, clenching his teeth every so often in pure annoyance as he looked at you with utter hatred and disgust.
“I may not belong in Hollywood, Miller, but at least my fucking morals are right and I don’t pull bitch moves like abandoning my friends when they need me the most.”
You were infuriated and quite frankly so fucking sick of this man berating you when he should be the last person on this green fucking Earth to talk. It was a low blow, your last comment to him, but what kind of a friend was he to choose a woman he was so pussywhipped over instead of being there for Tess when she was going through a rough time?
It broke your heart to see her so upset that Joel chose another woman he barely knew over her, icing her out when she’d been nothing but a good friend to him. She forgave him, of course, after he’d apologized to her months later.
She had a kinder heart than you would’ve at the situation. You don’t think you could ever forgive somebody for that.
You already thought Joel was an arrogant asshole before that even happened, but that situation was the last nail in the coffin to confirm that he’s exactly the person you thought he was.
“I apologized to her. We’re good now.” Joel’s harsh stare never wavered, but the annoyance in his tone did. He almost sounded…sad.
“Yeah. Whatever.” You roll your eyes, flicking the ash off of the end of the joint before taking another hit. Your mind was already starting to become hazy, and the proximity between you and Joel was starting to make your head spin.
Your gaze flickered up to his face once more, brown eyes still locked on you. You furrow your brows, but before you can speak, Joel plucks the joint from your fingers. He puts the filter up to his lips and deeply inhales, and you frown.
“Get your own recreational drugs, asshole.” You mutter, arms crossing over your chest. Joel’s eyes trail down to your chest before moving back up to yours. A small smirk evades his lips, and he blows the smoke into your face.
“You’re such a fuckin’ brat.”
“Fuck you gonna do? Spank me for not thinking you’re all high and mighty and shit?” The frown is permanent on your face as you assess him, not realizing the impact that your words had on him.
His cock stirred in his slacks at the thought of that.
He stubs out the half-finished joint before handing it back to you. You tuck it away in your purse before looking at him again, carefully studying him.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He’s got a knowing look on his face, and you have to force yourself to feign disgust.
Because, goddammit, you probably would. You’d probably be all over him if he wasn’t such a fucking asshole. The rage you’ve targeted toward him has made you see past his rugged looks and charm, the broadness of him and the veins that protrude from his hands to his forearms and—
You’ve wondered briefly what it’d be like to succumb to it. To be like every single other person who melts for him like lava seeping into the deepest cracks of the Earth. Untouchable. Destructive. And yet, a beautiful aftermath.
“Think I’ll take that as a yes.” His laugh rumbles from deep within his sturdy chest. For a moment he looks so carefree, so light and happy while he laughs. It might’ve been at your own expense, but for the slightest second, you saw through the harsh stares and the hateful demeanor.
“Fuck you, Miller.”
His mouth snapped shut and his harsh gaze settled on you again. His nostrils flared as he glared at you, a heat behind his eyes you’ve never seen before. His palm twitches at his side and he opens his mouth to say something argumentative, but closes it after a second.
Before you know it, he wraps his hand around your forearm, dragging you behind him.
You nearly trip over your heels as you try to keep up with him, wriggling in his strong grasp. He wouldn’t let up.
“Let go of me you asshole!” You seethe, but he pushes you into a room—tucked at the back of the mansion—secluded from everyone else. Oh.
Oh.
Oh, fuck.
You quickly realized you were in for it when he shut the door and locked it. Nerves buzzed in your veins and you inhaled a shaky breath.
He looked like he was some sort of predator stalking its prey with the way his eyes scanned your body as he moved around to the other side of the room.
“Real fuckin’ sick of your attitude.” He starts. You scoff at him and throw your arms up.
“Wouldn’t have to deal with it if you just left me the fuck alone in the first place.” You cross your arms over your chest once more, and Joel takes two large strides toward you before he’s standing so close that you can smell the whiskey and weed on his breath.
“N’ that’s the problem, darlin’, I can’t leave you alone. Been wanting to fuck that attitude right outta you since the first day we met.”
You swear your heart drops into your ass. “Wh-what?” Your eyes are wide as he walks forward, forcing you to move backwards until the backs of your knees hit the king-sized bed.
You didn’t even notice there was a bed in the room because the very man before you was insanely distracting.
“You heard me. You’re a brat, baby, n’ brats deserve to be punished.”
You swallow hard as a fire burns behind his eyes, mischievous and daring.
“Joel—”
“Turn around.”
You don’t even think twice before listening to his demand, turning around so you face the bed.
“Can’t hate me that much if you’re an obedient little thing for me, hm?” The amusement was oozing from his Southern drawl.
Your first instinct was to argue with him, but deep down you knew he was right. Maybe all the hatred you had for him had a little bit of desire sprinkled deep down in the depths of your core, unexplored and completely disregarded.
The thought of his hands on you excited you. You saw the way he touched women in the movies he was in. Regardless if it was just acting or not, you always ended up aroused after Tess would force you to watch any movie of his—especially the ones with erotica. She would tease you about not liking him, unknowing of the true abhorrence that stirred in your body. He was her best friend too, so you had to be cordial to him around her for her sake.
You tried to ignore him altogether, but where it got you now—pressed up against the bed as his large hands landed onto your body to tightly grip your hips—didn’t seem to pan out so well.
“Will you let me touch you?” His voice has a rough edge to it, the teasing long gone as he stares at your figure from behind.
“Yes.” You whisper.
He doesn’t say another word as his calloused hands slide around your thighs and to the front of your body. He presses himself against you, and the warmth he radiates off of his body alone makes you sigh.
He’s so sturdy and strong, just as you imagined him to be. You could feel his cock hardening against the plump of your ass, and you wiggle in the slightest to tease him.
He inhales sharply, one hand sliding underneath the hem of your dress while the other hand splayed out onto your stomach.
The skimpy panties you had on did a terrible job at keeping your arousal strictly within the confines of the lace fabric. The apex of your thighs was smeared with the neediness you refused to address, now completely on display for the man it was all for.
Joel’s hand skimmed your inner thighs, chuckling darkly as he traced the outline of your pussy with his thumb through the fabric.
You tried your hardest to hold back a moan, really. You fucking tried. As soon as the sound bubbled in your throat and glided past your lips, you could feel Joel’s smile in victory. He was always playing chess while you were playing checkers.
Well, check fucking mate for him.
“Didn’t know I got ya this excited, baby.” He grips the hem of your panties, sliding them down your legs. You step out of them and he immediately pockets them.
“You wouldn’t be the first.” You mumble, not wanting to feed into his already huge ego.
“Oh I’m sure I’m not,” He starts, breath hot on your neck. “Doesn’t mean I won’t ruin every other fuckin’ man for you. Bend over.”
You clench around nothing at his words, deciding that staying silent is better than digging yourself deeper into your own fucking grave.
You do as he says and bend over the bed, cheek resting against the soft silk sheets.
“‘M gonna fuckin’ make sure I’m all you think about after this. Fuck yourself with your fingers to flashbacks of tonight. Moanin’ my fuckin’ name all alone in your house, wishing I was there to take care of you instead. Fuckin’ brat.”
His words sound like a simultaneous threat and promise, but you just had to say something. You couldn’t let him completely have this without giving him some kind of shit.
“Oh please, I bet I’ll forget as soon as we walk out of this room. You’ve probably got a small dick anyway.”
And you know that isn’t true. He’s huge, and you know he’ll never let you forget about tonight.
A sharp sting blooms onto one of your asscheeks, the sound of him smacking your flesh reverberating off of the walls of the bedroom. You moan at the delicious pain.
“You n’ I both know that ain’t true, doll. Enough with that fuckin’ mouth of yours. Could put it to better use than talkin’ all that shit.”
His hands knead the flesh of your ass, spreading your cheeks apart to get a good look at all of you. You almost feel embarrassed, but decide not to get into your head too much about it because all you want him to do is fucking touch you where you need him the most.
Your core was aching. You were almost ready to put your pride aside and fucking beg him to touch you. Almost.
You were about to give in when you heard him shuffle behind you, and you craned your neck to see Joel drop onto his knees behind you.
His eyes locked with yours as he gave you a smirk before leaning forward to bite your ass. You let out a small yelp, and his hand was quick to soothe the pain.
“Gonna fuckin’ set you right once n’ for all.”
And he brings a hand up to your core, sliding his middle and ring finger through your dripping folds. You whimper softly at the sensation, a small flood of relief coursing through your veins. But it wasn’t enough. You needed more.
Your hips start to rock involuntarily, and Joel tsks at you.
“Greedy fuckin’ whore, aren’t ya? Patience is a virtue, baby.” He chides.
“Goddamnit Joel.” Your voice sounds breathy, even to your own surprise.
Suddenly, Joel slips his two fingers into you, and your hands fly out to grip the sheets beneath you. Your eyebrows furrow together and relish in the feeling of his thick fingers scissoring in and out of your aching cunt.
“So fuckin’ wet already. ‘F I woulda known I did this to ya…” He chuckles, working his fingers in and out of you expertly.
He leans forward and licks up your folds, swirling his tongue around your clit. You can’t help the strangled moan that leaves your mouth, and you can just feel Joel’s cocky ass smirk.
He continues lapping up your arousal, more dripping out around his fingers and down to his wrist. It'd been awhile since anyone touched you like this, so you presume you were extra turned on because of that reason.
You didn’t want to give all the credit to Joel.
His tongue slid up and he removed his fingers from you, replacing them with his tongue as he prodded it into your entrance and fucked you with it.
You were already a moaning mess, like you were on cloud nine with the way he was making you feel. He gripped both of your cheeks and spread them further for his own leisure, tongue dragging upward until it met your asshole.
“Holy fuck, Joel—” You choke out, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he swirls his tongue around the tight ring. Your heart is thrumming in your chest and your pussy clenches around nothing.
Joel lowly moaned around you, the vibrations shooting straight up your spine.
You don’t know how long he’s doing this for—your mind is still hazy from the high you’ve been riding, pleasure wrapped around every single inch of your body. You lose track of time and immerse yourself in how he’s making you feel.
Joel pulls himself away from you, sliding both of his fingers back into you. This time, though, he teases your other hole with the tip of his pinky.
“You ever let anyone fuck this pretty ass of yours with their fingers?”
“Please.” Was all you could squeak out, because while you didn’t want to admit you never have, you were willing to give it a go. It was obvious he knew what he was doing, and if you didn’t like the way something felt, you’d just tell him.
He spits onto your asshole before grunting, “Relax.”
And you do. He slides his pinky into your puckered hole, and fuck you feel so full with him like this. He works his three fingers in and out of you slowly at first, each move calculated and precise.
He may’ve been an asshole, but he at least wanted to make sure you were comfortable.
He picks up the pace of his fingers after he’s sure you can handle it, and the feeling of pleasure seizes your body as you shake underneath him.
It’s too much and not enough all at once. You can feel your orgasm rapidly building building building, the coil wound so tight that your stomach constricts in plea of release.
“Fuckfuckfuck, Joel I’m gonna—oh fuck!”
And you’re literally gushing around his fingers. He prolongs your orgasm as long as he can. You think he’s saying things like there you go, that’s it, but you can hardly pay attention over the loud ringing in your ears as you try and come down from your Earth-shattering orgasm.
He slips his fingers out of you slowly, watching your body convulse sporadically from the aftermath of it all.
He grabs your body and flips you around so you’re laying at the edge of the bed. The fluorescent lights are blinding as you try and look at his face. You blink rapidly, chest heaving up and down as you try your damndest to find your bearings once more.
He’s unfastening the button on his slacks, and all you can hear is the rustle of the fabric and the thumping music outside of the locked door.
You wondered briefly if anyone—Tess, specifically—was looking for the two of you. You’d be mortified if she found you like this, but Joel was smart enough to lock the doors.
You were so lost in thought that you hadn’t even noticed he was pulling down his underwear, so when you looked back at him you gasped when you saw his stiff, aching length. Your hunch was correct—he was huge. His tip was red, smeared with precome and just begging to be taken care of.
If there was any time in your life to impress Joel Miller, now was your chance. You sit up on your knees and lower your head, looking up at him through your lashes, your mouth inches away from his tip.
The muscle in his jaw ticked furiously, brown eyes watching you meticulously. You gave him a small, cocky smirk before you leaned forward and wrapped your lips around his tip, eyes fluttering shut at the salty taste. You use one hand to steady yourself onto the bed, and the other to wrap around his length as you start to pump him slowly.
He inhales sharply, holding back a groan as you undoubtedly start to please him.
You set a steady rhythm between your hand and mouth. The wet sounds are obscene and nearly pornographic. A part of you wishes this was being recorded so you’d have something to watch back when you needed to get yourself off.
Greed is a tragedy, and tragic you were in this moment.
Joel’s hand flies to the back of your head, cradling it as you remove your hand and slide your lips as far down his shaft as your mouth would allow. The head of his cock hit the back of your throat, and as much as you were salivating, you swallowed around him.
The tip of your nose barely made contact with the wiry hairs at the base of his cock, and Joel let out the most guttural groan you’d ever heard.
“Filthy fuckin’ mouth, baby. Goddamn. Knew it could be put to better use than you—ngh—spewin’ that fuckin’ attitude.”
You hum around him, bobbing your head up and down his length. His pants were getting more rapid and he was becoming more vocal, grunting fuck and filthy, filthy girl.
“Shit, yeah, just like that doll. Just. Like. That.” Joel’s voice is hoarse behind his clenched teeth. If you didn’t know any better, he’d probably shatter his teeth with how hard he was clenching them.
And you don’t let up. Not even after a string of curses spills past his lips, and definitely not after he groans so loudly that it vibrates through his whole body as ropes of his come spill down your throat.
You’re in overstimulation territory, and he’s falling apart at the seams.
He pulls your head off of his length as he tries to catch his breath, sweat beading at his temples.
“Fuckin’ christ.” He breathes, squeezing his eyes shut before looking at you again.
“Didn’t know I would be so good at that now, did you?” You tease, and the corner of his mouth twitches into a snarl.
“Shut the fuck up.” He says, and you laugh. He grabs your hips suddenly, flipping you around once more so you’re on all fours for him again.
“‘M’keepin’ my promise. Gonna fuck that attitude straight outta your goddamn brain.” His tone is serious, and you’re beginning to think he really isn’t fucking around.
You hear him pump himself a few times and you think about the dangerous threshold you’re about to cross with him. Would you regret it after? Would he?
It was like you were both taking a bite of forbidden fruit, specially picked from the Garden of Eden.
Fuck it. There’s worse things you can do.
“You on any birth control?” He asks, and you nod.
“IUD.”
“Good.” He says before sliding the head of his cock through your folds. Your body jerks when it catches your clit, still sensitive from your previous orgasm.
Without another word, Joel pushes into you and you stretch around him deliciously. It’s like your body was begging for him to be inside you at this point.
“Fuuuck.” Joel groans, gripping your hips so tightly they’d probably be bruised by tomorrow.
You bite your lip to keep from screaming, because he’s the biggest you’ve ever had and the sting won’t go away.
“Move, Joel.” You plead, and he smacks your ass once again, making you flutter around his cock.
“Fuck did I say about patience? Christ, woman.”
You shut your eyes as you feel him become fully erect inside you, and you’re seriously going to cry if he doesn’t move soon.
Almost as if he’d read your mind, he started to thrust his hips slowly. It didn’t take long for him to set a pace, though, and he was brutally pistoning in and out of you.
“Fucking…. hate… you.” You spit pathetically, holding onto the sheets for dear life. He laughs dryly behind you, mumbling a sure before going even harder.
Your moans were getting louder and louder, and you truthfully couldn’t give two fucks who heard you at this point.
Fucking let them hear.
“Better hush up now, whole house could probably hear you with how loud you’re bein’.” He scolded, and you rolled your eyes.
“Don’t give a fuck,” You squeaked out, “Let them.”
“Attagirl,” His laugh was mischievous, pounding into you even faster than before. “Little fuckin’ whore loves takin’ this cock, hm?”
One of his hands moved up your body, causing chills down your spine and goosebumps to raise onto your skin.
His hand wrapped around your throat, and you moaned at the idea of getting choked out while he fucked you from behind.
One of your hands flew up to his, and he was half expecting you to yank it away. He was pleasantly surprised when you clamped your fingers down around his, silently urging him to squeeze.
And he did. You felt like you were fucking floating.
Joel didn’t let up, even when you felt the burning hot coil wind up in your core once again.
“Feel so fucking good– s–o so fucking— fuck.” You’re a blubbering mess. He pulls your body up so your back is facing his front, never letting his pace waver.
“Fucking you dumb on my cock, aren’t I? Listen to you, baby. Pathetic.” He laughs at you once again, but you don’t have any willpower to fight back. You just let it happen, because each thrust of his cock into you has your body turning into complete fucking mush.
“Close.” Is what you whisper, and Joel can feel your walls tightening around him. He chokes on a moan at the sensation, fingers tightening around your throat even more.
You can barely breathe, but you fucking love it. You love seeing stars cloud your vision like this. The heightened sensation of your orgasm comes crashing down over you, eyes rolling into the back of your head as you silently scream out.
Your body convulses continuously as you try to ride out your orgasm, but Joel’s hand leaves your throat and moves down to your clit to rub at it furiously.
You cry out his name, your hands frantic to find purchase to anything as you try and brace yourself.
It’s no use, though. Your body is limp and your soul fucking escaped from you long ago.
“Where do you want me?” The urgency in his voice is evident, but you’re in such a daze that you barely clock it.
“Inside me.” You manage, and he groans loudly before he lets go, filling you up with everything he has. His body slumps over yours, both of you trying so hard to pull yourselves back to reality.
He slides out of you and you both groan at the loss of being one.
You turn over on your back, once again blinded by the lights. Your eyes flutter close as you assess everything that partook the last—thirty? fourty? you don’t fucking know—minutes of your life.
Your body slowly floats back down to reality, and you peel your eyes open when you hear shuffling. Joel is on his knees again, spreading your legs to look at his handiwork. He looks up at you with that same devilish smirk, licking up his spend from your cunt before hovering over you.
He uses his thumb to coax your jaw open, spitting his spend into your mouth.
“Swallow.” He demands, and you do as he says. You open your mouth to show him you did, and a satisfied look washes over his features.
“Hope you feel me leakin’ out of you all goddamn night, sweetheart.”
You look at him incredulously, reality crashing down with the unwavering truth: you and Joel really fucked.
He was inches away from your face, and for a fleeting moment, you wondered what it would be like if he kissed you. His lips looked so soft.
But that would make it too complicated. It would turn into a thing you didn’t need it to be, and you knew kissing him would make the probability of hating him into a fucking zero.
Get a grip.
But, you catch him. You catch his eyes flicker down to your lips, the same thing probably reeling in his mind, too.
Maybe one wouldn’t hurt.
No. You wouldn’t allow it for yourself. He can take his Southern charm and shove it up his ass.
You cleared your throat and moved to stand up. Your legs were shaky at first, but you found your grounding as you walked over to the mirror on the other side of the room.
You straightened out your appearance, making sure you didn’t have “I just got fucked” plastered across your forehead. Once you were satisfied, you turned around to see Joel sitting on the bed.
You nod at him once, “Joel,” and you’re unlocking the door to be rejoined by the thumping music and loud laughter, leaving him to stare at you as you walked away.
You made your way into the backyard, needing a breath of fresh air after everything that ensued.
“There you are! I was looking all over for you.” Tess pulls you into her side, giving your arm a playful squeeze as she holds you close.
“Yeah, I uh, went to smoke a J.” Which, yes, was of course partially true—but you’d probably never admit to her that you just got done getting your brains fucked out by Joel Miller.
She probably wouldn’t even believe you if you told her, anyway.
It didn’t need to become a thing, even if it was the best sex you’ve ever had in your life.
Sex you’d probably be having flashbacks about years down the line, just as Joel promised.
You groan inwardly, eyes drifting upward to casually scan the backyard. You caught a familiar pair already staring at you from across the way, and your whole body bloomed with aching heat once more.
Those brown eyes were accompanied with a sickening smirk, and two seconds later, a wink.
You knew no matter how hard you tried, and as much as you fucking despised him, it wouldn’t be easy to get him out of your head.
You were so fucked, you think.
The idea of admitting that you maybe didn’t hate him was unwarranted, but you knew deep down it was your reality. You really didn’t hate him.
And maybe, just maybe, these parties weren’t so bad after all.
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tags: @ilovepedro @nostalxgic @punkshort @endlessthxxghts
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dividers by @saradika-graphics
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novalpha · 1 year
Text
𝘑𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝐹𝑖𝑐 𝑅𝑒𝑐𝑠
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♡ Fluff || ୨୧ Angst || ★ Smut || ꗃ SMAU || ⌗ Series || ✿ Drabble || ♤ Mature (No smut) || ✹ Humor || ⸙ On hold ||
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Love café ♡ ୨୧ ★✦ -> @chocosvt
synopsis: while you’ve spent the last few months pretending the love café doesn’t exist, you realize you need its services now more than ever. this brings you face to face with jeonghan, the son of a luxury fashion designer who’s got money to burn. your exchanges are strictly business. until they’re not.
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Miracle Bunny ♡୨୧★⌗⸙ -> @caramellohigh
synopsis: Minghao impulsively adopts a hybrid for you and you hate him for it. But after getting to know your new hybrid, you realized it wasn’t such a bad idea after all. You’ve gained a new friend, a companion and… perhaps more?
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ illicit whispers ♡★ -> @httphannie
summary: yoon jeonghan's wanted in almost every country but there's no denying that he's handsome so should it come as a surprise when you end up in his prison cell?
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ KIDULT ♡✹୨୧ -> @hvae
synopsis: jeonghan always believed he was never fond of children, especially when he took the job at your daycare. little did he know the child in him was playing hide and seek, finally revealing itself after growing to love the kids. oh, and you too
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ The selfish dilemma ♡୨୧★⌗ -> @joonsytip
Synopsis: It was love at first sight ever since you laid eyes on Jeonghan. To him, you are the annoying co-worker who keeps asking him out. No one is new to your courting agenda which only pisses off Jeonghan but what happens when you stop, all at once....
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ How to give a blowjob for dummies ♡୨୧★ -> @multiland
summary: your friendship with Jeonghan takes a turn the day the two of you cross the line when he decides to teach you how to give a blowjob, despite your promises of everything staying the same. Tired of waiting for him to acknowledge the elephant in the room, you decide to go on dates. Needless to say, he doesn't like it one bit.
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ In her shadow ♡୨୧★⌗✹ -> @hoshzone
summary: you never were the one to fall in love but, just when you think you might’ve found the one, he turns out to be your estranged bitch of a sister’s fiancé. you and jeonghan both know better but, he can’t help but wish he’d met you first, thinking you’re a far better match for him than she’d ever be. #trusttheprocessordon’t…
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Little miss naughty ♡★ -> @hoshzone
𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 : not being able to wait until Jeonghan gets off the phone with Joshua, you decide it’d be a good idea to get yourself off on his thigh. He makes sure you pay for that.
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Holidate ♡୨୧★ -> @onlymingyus
synopsis: It's only for a week, he's doing you a favor, and he's your fake boyfriend. Why do you have to keep reminding yourself of that?
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Fall back down to earth with you ♡୨୧ -> @97-liners
Synopsis: in which your manager, jeonghan, thinks it’ll be good publicity for you to date hollywood actor and notable heartthrob, joshua hong. of course, everything would be nice and easy if you ended up falling in love with your fake boyfriend joshua, but life is complicated, and your heart ends up pulling you in another direction completely.
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Cigarettes and coffee ♡★୨୧ -> @gyukult
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Responsibly irresponsible: white shoes ♡୨୧ -> @twogyuu
Synopsis: Seemingly exciting at first, Jeonghan slowly comes to realize that being a dad is more than meets the eye, especially when he meets your mother (unexpectedly) for the first time. Did you mention? She doesn't know you're pregnant.
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Inflection point ♡★୨୧ -> @lovelyhan
summary: you love yoon jeonghan. no, scratch that. you fucking adore yoon jeonghan; so much that the moment he asks you to be in an exclusive set-up with his current partner, you accept the offer in a heartbeat. what you fail to consider, however, is who your boss�� boyfriend actually is.
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ It's nice to have a friend ♡★⌗ -> @sluttywoozi
You and Jeonghan have embarked on your fifth annual Best Friends trip, but it's a bit different than usual, considering he made the reservation under Yoon Y/N and told them he was your husband.
What's a honeymoon between friends anyway?
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Sweater paws ♡★ -> @duhnova
synopsis: your soft and cuddly virgin boyfriend isn’t so soft and innocent when he wakes up in the middle of the night from a wet dream
[More Jeonghan fic recs will be updated]
Want more Seventeen fic recs? -> Click Here
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siredtosturniolos · 2 months
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house of mirrors
paring: chris sturniolo x reader
summary: halloween was without a doubt your favorite holiday, always seeking the thrill that comes with being scared. you find yourself going to the house of mirrors by yourself, but you never were truly alone, were you?
warnings: smut! sex w a stranger, mask kink if you squint. (heavily inspired by haunting adeline! a great dark romance book if you’re into that btw)
authors note!: guys this is my first like, fr smut so pls lmk how it is!! (also im new to tumblr and i can’t respond to comments on posts like what???) also hopefully this is proof read enough i kinda gave up lol
───✱*.。:。✱*.:。✧*.。✰*.:。✧*.。:。*.。✱ ───
it was october 31st, your favorite time of the year which means your favorite halloween carnival had made its way back to santa monica blvd.
the west hollywood halloween carnival.
it was a tradition for you and your friends to attend every year, and you were typically the first to enter any frightening experience. you love the thrill of being scared, the thrill of not knowing what’s coming next and perhaps you liked it a little too much.
the silent gasps or he pressing of your thighs, was often how you spent your day during these experiences. especially anytime someone with a ghostface mask came in your line of sight
you and your friends had spent hours at the carnival attending various activities and shows having a good time. they had definitely stepped up their game from last year leaving you wanting more.
you see a sign, pointing in the direction of a haunted house of mirrors. quickly expressing to your friends do you wanted to go but they had had enough.
“you’re crazy if you think I’m gonna go through that.” one of your friends spoke, the others nod in agreement
You shrugged. “well i’m going, so i guess i’ll catch up with you guys later.”
“‘kay, be careful and have fun! we will be at the apple cider stand.” one of your friends offered with a smile, before you parted ways.
you kept walking in the direction of the house of mirrors, finding that it became less and less populated as you walked. it was on the edge of the carnival grounds, almost secluded, and you finally found it and saw that there was no one standing at the entrance, allowing yourself to slip inside wordlessly.
you didn’t know what to expect, but you were shocked seeing the mirrors surrounded by black painted walls with a slight red hue from the ceiling from the led lights. cob webs and fake spiders decorated the ceiling.
before you step in any further, you check the time cursing to yourself as you realize the fair is supposed to close in just over an hour.
mazes were one of your favorite things, and you were upset slightly that you had to rush due to not wanting to be stuck here after hours.
it takes all of five minutes before you’re lost, you keep your hands out in front of you preventing you from running face first into one of the mirrors. the feeling sunk in and your heart rate started pumping irradically, your breathing uneven with excitement.
you knew you weren’t alone, as this was supposed to be a haunted house of mirrors, desperately waiting for any signs of life as you knew someone would pop out to scare you soon.
in the distance, you hear a faint shuffling of feet, and you couldn’t help but grin yourself. you just hoped the mirrors wouldn’t ruin the ruin the scare as you quickly glanced around in all directions, trying to spot somebody.
you almost fall face first into a mirror, but you’re quickly distracted as you hear a chuckle. your head snaps up at the sound, your adrenaline spikes quickly pumping the chemical into your heart, and kicking up the speed further.
finding your way past the mirror that almost gave you a nose job you begin walking again.
“why aren’t you a pretty little thing?” a deep husky voice whispered, that seemed to have come from every direction of the room you were in. your limbs freeze, not sure if you were hearing or if it actually was whispered to you.
you keep charging forward, determined to figure your way out before whoever it was in here could actually mess with you.
“where are you going pretty girl?” your jaw drops in shock and a sinister chuckle echoes making your skin scatter with goosebumps from the tone of voice you had heard.
maybe if you keep quiet, he won’t be able to find you in this dark lighting. you quickly resume walking up until your speedwalking through the tricky gaze of the mirrors. you have no idea how far you are, but you’re unsure if you’ve even made it halfway through.
suddenly a tall figure in reflecting across the mirrors, dressed in all black with a ghost mask face on his head. you gasp at the sight, thighs clenching instantly. you begin whipping around just to find more of his reflection as he’s not behind you, but he’s somewhere close.
“stop it!” you bite out, your chest heaving. he doesn’t answer and you’re caught in a whirlwind, my body moving in in circles, desperate to figure your way out and away from him.
“you come here alone?” the man asked as his reflection as he resumed walking.
you swallow nervously, “obviously.” you whisper, still searching for where he is. it feels like you shouldn’t have said that.
“no one here to save you.” he teases you, crossing his arms across his chest as he halts his actions.
your eyebrows raised instantly, “why the hell would I need to be saved? are you going to hurt me?” you incredulously asked, getting another chuckle out of the man.
“no,” he instantly replies before his reflection is completely taken away you spin in circles, trying to see if he’s approaching you. you were bound to throw up due to the amount of spinning you had done tonight.
hi figure suddenly comes back to the mirrors, now missing his shirt and your cheeks flushed at the delicious sight surrounding you.
“i’m going to ruin you.” you take a hesitant step backwards, nearly bumping into a mirror and watching him intently.
his image moves, his body walking in a different direction. is he coming closer? it’s too hard to see, the adrenaline in your system rising to dangerous levels kept you on your toes.
he’s scaring you.
“run,” he growls “if i find you, i fuck you.”
And you instantly sprained into action, running with your hands slightly extended, bumping into mirrors as you make your way through the maze. after a few minutes, you’re already out of breath the adrenaline and fear are getting to you. your chest is constricted too tight.
you couldn’t help but be turned on as you realize you’re lost and trapped with a stranger, who’s actively promising something if he catches you. chest pumping you wait for him to find you there’s no chance you can outrun him, as he works here and knows the maze like the back of his hand.
breath suddenly tickles your ear, sending chills down your spine. you clench your eyes shut at the feeling of his hot body pressing into your back. he keeps his hands to himself for now, but you know that won’t last much longer.
“i’ll scream.” you threaten through a broken whisper. you watch in bewilderment as he slowly lifts his hand and takes off his mask. he was painfully gorgeous. longer brunette hair with piercing blue eyes, perfectly plump, pink lips pouting slightly as he stared back at your reflection.
maybe i can scream for different reasons you thought to yourself.
you quickly turn around to get a real look at him, that isn’t a reflection for the first time tonight. he’s instantly leaning forward and capturing your lips between his the second you turned to face him.
you were fighting with yourself, unsure if you really wanted to hook up with this really hot stranger in the middle of a mirror maze. testing the waters, you bite down on his bottom lip, a deep groan swirls through your mouth, urging you to bite harder.
he tastes like cherry soda. you can’t help but let a low moan slip past your lips at the taste, not expecting something so delicious. you slightly start to back away as you realize how crazy this is, and his palm reaches up to wrap around the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair and pulling you impossibly closer.
you suck his bottom lip into your mouth, lost in the taste of him, lost in the weight of his lips on yours. realizing what you’re doing you release his lip from your teeth, and attempt to pull away again.
he doesn’t let you let go and instead sucks your bottom lip into his mouth. he let his teeth painfully nip at your lip, causing you gasp at the sensation, granting him access and allowing him to explore your mouth.
your pussy responds instantly, throbbing from the feel of his tongue. an involuntary moan escapes as his tongue traced yours, and his kiss turns fierce. you’re running out of air so you have to harshly push yourself away from him and stumble back into the mirror behind you, sucking in several deep breaths, your cheeks suddenly trapped between his large hands.
“give me those fucking lips.” he spits before, forcing his tongue back into your mouth. the kiss was so heated you could feel sweat form at your hairline. your hands travel between your bodies, slowly going up his stomach to a firm chest. you roughly push him away, your lips separating with a audible smack.
“stop,” you begged, foggy and confused from the lack of air.
“what did i say?” he demanded harshly, quickly evading your personal space yet again.
“if i catch you, i fuck you.” he repeats slowly as he leans against the mirror behind you looking down on you, “i know you want this, you’ve been watching me all night, baby.” your breath hitches at his words, remembering all the times you had seen him earlier in the day. you had assumed it was several people, as ghost face was a popular character.
your mouth opens, but the words are slow to tumble past your lips, “you aren’t fucking me in here.”
“why not baby? you afraid i’ll fuck you better than you’ve ever had before?” he asked, placing a wet kiss to your neck, making you shudder with pleasure.
with the way he was acting and speaking, you knew you were going to cave soon. this was just out of your realm so you weren’t sure if this is really something you should do.
“i’ll stop if you really want me too, but from the way your body is reacting to me,” he grins down at you, wedging a thigh between your legs and pressing slightly making your hips buck in an desperate need of attention. “you want this more than you think you do.”
you both stand in silence for a few moments before his long fingers latch onto the zipper of your hoodie, slowly pulling it down. the material parting at a painful pace, and the sound of metal teeth separating seems deafening compared to the silence you were just in.
drake said something about you only live once right? fuck it.
“don’t torture me.” you spit out, your anger flashing from his deliberately, slow pace. a wicked smile flashes onto his face at your desperate tone of voice.
“but that’s exactly what I plan to do to you.” he, he replies, goosebumps rise on your skin once again as begins to brought up your shirt, wanting you to take it off, and i’m reminded suddenly that we are not alone.
“someone could come in here.” you whisper, your voice on the verge of cracking.
the man shakes his head briefly, “It’s just us baby you don’t have to worry about it.”
“i don’t even know your name.” you carry on in order to distract him buying yourself time to recollect your thoughts and process what’s about to happen.
“chris.” he replied instantly, his gaze zoned in on the exposed skin of your lower stomach as he lifted the shirt, higher and higher. finally, the shirt is gone and he leans back towards you, letting his hands drift up your stomach and cup your breast.
he squeezes your breast nearly to the point of pain, before he lowered his head to place a soft kiss to your left nipple, “if we had more time, i would fuck these.” he promises before releasing them and moving his hands to the buttons of your jeans.
this is wrong, so very wrong, but you can’t find it in yourself to stop him from unzipping your jeans, or even when he hooked his thumbs on either side and pulling them down
he helps you out of your shoes and then slips the jeans free, leaving you in nothing but your black and orange lacy thong. chris’ eyes light up upon seeing them, tracing the delicate silk before snapping the band against your skin.
“my favorite color is orange.” he mumbles, biting his bottom lip.
“you have to undress too.” you insist, not liking the feeling of being so exposed what he still had his jeans and shoes on. he smirks down at you and jesters for you to have at it. you undressed him slowly wanting to tease him the way he’s been teasing you all night.
you nearly choke on the air when you pulled down his pants and underwear, finally resting your eyes on his hard cock. without a doubt he was bigger than you’d ever had.
he pulls you in for another erratic kiss, full of teeth clashing and spit being exchanged. the energy between you both is as rising, as you both drink from each other, lust and sparks of fire heavy in the air. as your tongues fight for dominance, his hands slip around your waist and lifts you effortlessly. you wrap your legs around his trim waist just as you feel the cool glass press against your back as he had suddenly moved you backwards.
he quickly grasped your thong, effortlessly ripping the thin fabric from your hips shocking you. you detach yourself from his mouth and look at him in shock. e ignores your look and positions the head of his cock at your entrance.
“spread your pussy for me, baby.” he orders you though gritted teeth. you couldn’t help but feel a rush of arousal see from your core. a deep red flush stains your chest as you spread your legs further apart. his hands tightens on your hips almost painfully, and you can’t help but hope to wake up with fingerprint bruises left to remind you of this night.
you trailed a hand down your stomach, slowly spreading your lips apart, hissing as the gust of air is now penetrating your exposed sex.
“don’t even think of moving your hands.” he threatens, a second before he’s pulling you down on his dick.
you gasp, your free hand flying to his chest so you can push him off, he’s too much stretching you wider than you’d ever been. you whimper from the stretch, the slight burn, as you can feel his girth slide between your fingers as begins to slightly thrust deeper.
“t-too much!” you whine out, your back arching as he inches his way inside of you.
he brings a hand to your clit, rubbing it rapidly making you back arch further as he continues to work himself inside of you. he finally bottoms out and barely gives me any time to adjust, but the pain is morphing into something far more pleasurable and breathtaking. he slides out and pushes in quickly, a low moan rattling through his chest.
your body feels impossibly full, the sensation driving you wild. your a whining mess, clenching down tightly only encouraging chris to move faster.
he pulls out to the tip and then he slams his entire inside of you. here’s no doubt you could see him bulging in your stomach.
“chris!” you screamed, struggling to keep your hand exactly where he wanted it.
“fuck I can barely fucking fit.” he groans and you can’t help but agree. it must be why it feels like you’re getting torn in half.
he braces himself against the mirror, his body is consumed with the pleasure. shockwaves of pleasure scatter throughout your body as he quickens his pace, roughly fucking you against the mirror while loud noises you’ve never made fall from your lips.
the pleasure is blinding in the feeling of him, sliding in and out between your fingers, only helping to build the pit of your stomach begging to be released.
“i want you to watch the way i fuck you.” chris demands, roughly smacking your clit. it takes everything in you to peel your eyes open and sweep them over the mirror’s surrounding you.
several different mirrored images are staring back at you, being able to see the way his ass clenches as he fills you to the brim, his back muscles tensing, and how good his arms look from supporting your weight.
eventually, your eyes find their way back to his face, a sexy smirk placed on his lips. he leans in close, allowing his lips to barely brushing yours, as he watches you slowly come apart at the seams.
“tell me baby, have you ever been fucked this good?”
you bite your lip and shake your head, fighting the urge to close your eyes as the pleasures starting to become too much. he’s not oblivious to this though, as he changes the position, sliding each arm underneath your knees, and hiking them up higher than they were before. he instantly hit that special spot deep inside of you, your legs begin to violently shake.
“oh my god.” you moan out, this time you can’t stop your eyes from rolling into the back of your head.
your stomach is tight and you know your orgasm is approaching, and you can’t help but wish this could last even longer than it had.
“you want to come all over my cock baby?” he darkly taunts, bringing a hand down to your clit again and rubbing expertly.
you nod your head frantically, but he wants words.
“say it.” he spits out, slowing his thrusts, knowing that you were so close to falling off that delicious edge
you let out a whine, “please let me come all over your cock.” out speak through gritted teeth, watching a triumphant smirk make its way onto chris’s face. his fast pace resumes, his dick fucking into you faster than before bringing you right back to that edge yet again.
“come for me baby, wanna feel you.” he groans into your ear and that was all you needed to hear for the band in your stomach to finally snap. you screamed his name as you came, your body convulsing and arching into his.
chris responds in his own moans and whimpers as he slams into you one last time painting your insides until it can no longer fit inside of you. you’re catching your breath as you feel your combined juices pour down your thighs as he slowly lowered your legs, slipping out of you.
chris is breathing heavily in front of you, his eyes dark as he watches his cum slip down your thighs, lifting a hand to scoop it up and offer it to you. you let your lips part and he places his fingers on your tongue, and you take the pleasure of swirling them around in your mouth, sucking harshly. he takes a deep breath as he pulls his fingers away.
wordlessly, chris helps you redress yourself minus your thong that he had decided to pocket once he had put his jeans on himself. zipping up your hoodie, you turn to face mirrors to see the damage your face had gone through. your mascara was smeared, your lipstick basically gone, and your lips were puffy from the brutal kissing.
as you’re doing your best to wipe up the mascara, chris comes up behind you and starts to run his fingers through your hair as it had been tangled from rubbing against the glass for so long.
“thank you.” you quietly speak, meeting his eyes in the mirror.
chris grin back at you, “that was really fun.” he replied, coming to stand beside you and lean against the mirror you were staring at.
you hummed agreement, “i hope you’re from here cause i’d really like to do that again.” he continued, surprising you as you figured this was just a one night stand type of thing, but it must not be to him.
quickly you exchange phone number’s and part ways with a dopey smile on your lips as you were slightly limping to go back towards your friends. checking the time you’re shocked to see that it’s an hour past closing, and your friends texted you saying they were waiting in the car.
you quickly make your way out to the parking lot not missing chris, who was standing by the entrance with a few other team members as they were all staring at you as you made your way towards your friends car.
“where the fuck have you been!?” your friend instantly demands the second you open the door and slip into the passenger seat.
you offer a shy smile, “i got lost.”
540 notes · View notes
rosyblooom · 14 days
Text
tick,tick... boom! | ln4 smau
"i was in the winter of my life, and the men that i met along the road were my only summer"
PAIRING: lando norris x wild fem heiress!reader (born in 🇿🇦) SUMMARY: y/n was always trouble—pushing buttons, crossing lines. She was a loose cannon. But people were drawn to her, so it's no surprise when y/n and lando norris meet, they hit it off instantly, for better or worse. WARNING(S): slut shaming, mentions of alcohol + violence, toxicity A/N: we're just going to pretend tyla's album dropped in '22 pls & ty 😌 i'd really love to hear from you guys—thoughts and all!! <3
creds to the lovely @classiclitfreak for proofreading!!! <33
part 1 |
ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▯▯▯▯▯▯▯▯
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ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▯
5th of August, 2022 (📍USA 🇺🇸)
landonorris added to his story!
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[ caption: let's go 🤙 ]
yourusername added to her story!
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[ caption: don't u know? girls just wanna have fun ;) ]
[ tagged: yourbestfriend, yourfriend + more]
tmz_tv
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liked by username, username, username and 12,092 others
tmz_tv The self-crowned party girl and heiress to the multimillion-dollar jewellery boutique chain, à la famille, Y/LN, has been spotted clubbing for the 5th consecutive time. And lo and behold, it isn't her first visit of the night.
Y/N and her usual rowdy group of friends were seen arriving at the club, showing no regard for rules as they parked in prohibited areas before disappearing into the famous celebrity hotspot.
view all 573 comments
username ugh she's so hot
username oh to be a rich heiress living it up in hollywood
username why does she always dress so skimpy omg she's such a slut
username what happened to girls support girls username yeah smart ones who don't waste their lives drinking 24/7 smh she should be more like her sister username why be a hater lmao just keep scrolling if it bothers u
yourfan god the chokehold this woman has on me😩 no one's doing it like her
username and thank fuck for that
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Like a hungry tiger, you're on high alert. Sure, you're also a bit drunk, so maybe not as sharp as you'd like to be, but they don't call it liquid courage for nothing. And tonight, that liquid courage is fuelled by the presence of a hot DJ in a booth above you. You've had your eye on him ever since you stepped into this club, waiting for the right moment to make a move.
"Y/N," BF/N slurs, stumbling into you and nearly sending both of you tumbling. You manage to steady yourselves, her leaning heavily on you.
This isn't the first time you've witnessed your best friend like this; she's always been a lightweight, and as usual, it's everyone else's problem.
You slap your hands onto her cheeks, pulling her face close to yours. "What the hell are you doing?"
"Here," she says, squirming out of your grasp and thrusting two half-full shot glasses towards you. You hesitate, but she presses one into your chest, spilling some of the liquid. "Take it."
"Okay, that's it. I'm cutting you off," you declare, snatching both drinks from her and downing the burning liquid in one gulp.
"Aw," she pouts. "Boo, Y/N. You can't cut me off; my card's on the tap tonight."
"Well, that's too bad."
Standing on your tiptoes, you scan over the dozens of heads until you spot a familiar face in the crowd—one of your guy friends. The moment you make eye contact, you wave him over.
"She's completely out of it. Can you please get her home?" you yell over the music, summoning your sweetest smile and fluttering your eyelashes for extra effect. "Pretty please."
"I am not," BF/N interjects, prompting an eye roll from you before redirecting your focus back to your other friend.
He leans in close, his voice barely audible over the music. "We're all thinking of leaving, actually. This place is kinda lame."
Your shoulders slump as you pull back, peering up at the mysterious DJ you've been eyeing all night.
"Sorry, can't do," you shake your head, meeting your friend's gaze again.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean," you sling your arm around his shoulder and gesture towards the DJ booth where the DJ is engaged in conversation with two other guys, "I want to know who that guy in the middle is. He's hot."
"Yeah?" F/N looks at you unimpressed. "Hot like the guy from last night? Or the one from two weeks ago?"
"Ouch," you rub your chest. "Are you trying to tell me something?"
"Yeah, actually," he nods. "I'm telling you that we're leaving, Y/N."
You shake your head and gently cup his face. "Correction, you're leaving."
Before he can object, you quickly add, "Give everyone a kiss from me, please. And don't worry, I'll text you when I get home. Pinkie promise."
You hold out your pinkie finger expectantly, but when he doesn't respond, you sigh and grab his hand with your free one, linking your fingers together.
"See, that wasn't so hard," you say, releasing his hand. As you spin on your heel, you give him one final glance and yell, "By the way, you might want to get BF/N out now. She really can't handle her liquor, if you catch my drift."
A sudden surge of energy courses through you, sending goosebumps down your arms. Whether it's from the earlier shots or not, it gets your heart pumping as you make a beeline straight for the DJ booth.
"Now or never," you mutter under your breath, stretching your neck from side to side.
Once you catch sight of the back of the DJ’s curly dark hair, you tap his shoulder.
The moment your eyes meet, your lips curve into a smile. "Hey you."
The guy offers a wide grin, exposing the small gap between his front teeth. "So she speaks," he says.
You chuckle. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing much," he shrugs, scratching his nose. "I was just wondering if staring was all you could do or if you'd actually come and say hi, you know? I don’t bite."
"Well, I do," your voice rings out huskily as you appraise him for a couple of seconds. He's wearing a loose blue shirt unbuttoned almost all the way down. "I had to make sure you weren’t the type of person I'd eat alive." Extending your hand to him, you add, "Congrats, you're not. I'm Y/N."
"Happy to have made the cut," he laughs, clasping his hand around yours and pulling you slightly forward so that your hands are the only thing separating your bodies. "Lando," you feel his warm breath against your face.
A trail of tingles shoots down your spine as you simply gaze up at him with an unwavering smile. "I think we're going to have lots of fun."
"Let's," he nods, dragging his finger over his bottom lip.
landonorris added to his story!
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[ caption: 📸 ]
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yourusername
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liked by yourbestfriend, tyla, landonorris and 382,050 others
yourusername never had a pretty girl from joburg see me now and that's what they prefurrr 💋
view all 4,035 comments
username guys pack it up we've lost him😭 first lando's story and now he's in the likes??? i feel sick
username Y/N AND LANDO???? SAY IT AINT SO username that man cannot handle a baddie pls be serious lmaoo
tyla hottie
yourusername u xx username i need you both expeditiously😩
username the caption??? when i first heard the song i immediately thought of u queen 🫶
username oooh she's taking it😍
yourbestfriend mami
yourusername bbg xx
username stay away from lando bitch
username nurse he's out again
6th of August, 2022 (📍USA 🇺🇸)
f1gossipofficial
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liked by username, username, username and 14,085 others
f1gossipofficial Lando Norris appears to be thoroughly enjoying his summer break, as he was photographed leaving the popular celebrity hotspot on Hollywood Blvd with the wild child Y/N L/N last night. Earlier, he had shared a photo to his story, featuring a woman fans presume to be Y/N.
Witnesses claim they seemed to be very close throughout the entire night, "practically glued to each other." Could there be a new WAG in the paddock soon?
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username he should redirect all that energy into winning races smh
username I see nothing but facts username he's on literal break rn lmao r u ok?😭
username i wish I could protect him😭 she's such a bad influence omg
username u don't know either of them weirdo username if it walks like a duck and talks like a duck it's a fucking duck. y/n is a red flag period
username 😕
username a win is a win🇿🇦🇿🇦
username iktr😌 (hello my fellow south african🤝)
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9th of August, 2022
yourusername posted to her story!
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[ caption: europe bby ]
[ tagged: yoursister ]
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11th of August, 2022 (📍France 🇫🇷)
yourusername
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liked by landonorris, ayanakamura_officiel, lando_jpg and 401,957 others
tagged: yoursister, yourfriend, yourfriend + more
yourusername au revoir france, you've been v fun mwah xx
view all 3,975 comments
yoursister love you little sis ❤️❤️
yourusername ily more <3333
username step on me pls🧎
username MY WIFE ❤️😍🤞
username she's mine ✨
landonorris finally
(liked by author)
username crying and throwing up😭😭 username i thought you'd be different. turns out you're just a man☹️ username now what are y'all up to hmmm???
username ARGHHSH NOOO NOT LANDO LIKING FROM BOTH ACCOUNTS???? SICK BEHAVIOUR
username rip to us🥲
ayanakamura_officiel 😍
yourusername missing u already xx
12th of August, 2022 (📍Monaco 🇲🇨)
landonorris added to his story!
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[ caption 1: (I told her to put the finger down☝️) ] | [ caption 2: 👅 🤙 ]
[ tagged: yourusername ]
yourusername added to her story!
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[caption: here's to new friends in monaco 💋 ]
[tagged: landonorris, yourfriend, + more ]
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19th of August, 2022 (📍Monaco 🇲🇨)
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24th of August, 2022 (📍Monaco 🇲🇨)
yourusername
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liked by yourbestfriend, yourfriend, landonorris and 395,003 others
tagged: yourfriend, landonorris + more
yourusername august '22 with some favs xxx
view all 5,825 comments
username lando yeah MOVE from my girl
username 🤣🤣
landonorris again soon ✈️
(liked by author)
username can y'all slow down like I've still not recovered from 2 weeks ago😮‍💨 username ugh why lando she's literally such a slut username right?? he can do sm better
username oh to be an unemployed rich girl living off my parents money😩
username wdym lmao she does brand deals and she's a brand ambassador for loads of things username well it aint quite the same as working 9-5 at walmart is it?? like I'd fucking swap any day bffr😭
username is- is this a launch??? is the single era finally over omg
username y/n we miss u in the states baby😢
username fuck no. the paparazzi there are so fucking horrible, she's better off in monaco username ig you're right I'm still sad tho😭
username when are u coming back home???🇿🇦🇿🇦
yourbestfriend ugh stop being so hot (pls come back home the kids miss u😞)
yourusername 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️
10th of September, 2022 (📍Italy 🇮🇹)
f1gossipofficial
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liked by username, username, username and 13,054 others
f1gossipofficial Just confirmed by Italian F1 fans: Y/N L/N, currently linked with Formula One driver Lando Norris, has landed in Italy. Pictures above were sent to us by individuals present at the airport during her arrival.
Speculations are rife that her presence might be related to the upcoming race tomorrow. Could we witness their official debut as a couple and Y/N's debut as a WAG tomorrow?
view all 1,077 comments
username I don't get the hate she seems nice enough
username she is!!! she was so sweet, she literally took a picture with all of us even tho the paparazzi were so fucking annoying username yh bc it's an act and u're falling for it smh she has a weird aura
username 🤢🤢🤢🤢
username ik lando's dj era was gonna be troublesome wtf
username he has very questionable taste...
username how? she's hot username yeah cause it'd be much better if he dated u lmao y'all are delulu
username is it just me who's concerned?🥲 I feel like ever since they started hanging out he's just been partying every single day
username yeah his last two races were pretty shit ngl...
yourusername posted to her story!
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[ caption 1: bottoms up baby 👅 ] [caption 2: late night pizza in italy?? FUCK YEAH ]
[tagged: landonorris, damianodavid, yourfriend + more ]
11th of September, 2022 (📍Italy Grand Prix 🇮🇹)
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f1news
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liked by username, username, username and 25,892 others
f1news As we all know, Lando Norris has had quite a rough start to the second half of the 2022 season. When asked about his feelings regarding his P15 finish, he said, "Yeah, it was a rubbish performance, no excuses for that. I'm very disappointed. We have a good car at McLaren this year, so I definitely put my hand up and say that this is 100% on me [...]."
He ended the interview with a hopeful message to his fans, "The season isn't over till it's over, and I'm going to keep my head high and push even harder."
view all 2,749 comments
username hey y/n if u're reading this, thanks a lot 🙃
username she's such a fucking red flag omg. and then she doesn't even fucking show up to his race?? what a bitch username lando isn't blameless here tho. he's a big boy lol if he wants to drink on fucking race night then he's an idiot
username **rubbish performanceS lmao the other 2 races were shit too🤣
username laughs in red bull girl🤭🤭
username aw you could see the tears he was trying hold back😭😭
username ik it's sad but hopefully this makes him realise he needs to cut y/n off cause she's such a bad influence😕
username I just know he'll be beating himself up for this for soo freaking long omg☹️💔
username onward and forward guys!! I believe in him💪💪
username this!!! we love u lando 🫶🫶
6th of October, 2022 (📍Japan 🇯🇵)
lando.png
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liked by yourusername, yourfriend, danielricciardo and 137,056 others
lando.png ok you look good, can I have my camera back now?🤨
view all 2,984 comments
username babe u know how there's these things called lucky charms well, y/n is the opposite of that🙂 hope this helps cause ur races have been shit
username lmaooo I feel bad but u're so valid😭 username lololol the way he'll just continue keeping her around
username so the saga of y/n showing up at the race country but not attending actual race continues🥱 cba anymore
username can y'all not do anything fucking separately?? like wtf
username I spy with my little eye a big fucking 🚩
username ooh I wanna play. hmm lemme guess....Y/N 🤭 username ding ding ding now imagine if lando could see it smh
username oooh the comments?? y/n get behind me quick🤺🤺
yourusername 😋
lando.png 😐 username love you both <33
username day 2936 of neither y/n nor lando confirming or denying the dating rumours 😫
username SICK PEOPLE. THE BOTH OF THEM SMH
8th of October, 2022 (📍Japan 🇯🇵)
yourusername posted to her story!
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[ caption 1: i heart japan ] [ caption 2: cheers x ] [ caption 3: bby tonight the dj's got us falling in love again 💋 ]
[ tagged: yourfriend, yourfriend + more ]
9th of October, 2022 (📍Japan Grand Prix 🇯🇵)
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The heavy thud of the door falling shut jolts you upright on the bed. You'd let yourself in with a spare card—both of you having each other’s—and simply sank into the bed, waiting. Hours have passed, and your fingers are raw from the incessant needing, twisting, and pulling—a bad habit.
Amidst the pulsing headache tormenting you, another ache tightens your chest: guilt. You pride yourself on your loyalty to friends, so consistently letting them down weighs heavily on you.
"Hey, can we talk?" you whisper as Lando enters the narrow entryway and steps into the hotel room.
He startles, not noticing you at first as his head was bowed. Fixing you with a disappointed look, he sighs, dragging his hands down his face.
"Not right now, Y/N," he says after a moment.
"Come on, I don’t want us to be like this."
“Well, it’s not about you right now,” Lando snaps, dropping his bag onto the ground. “You don’t get to break your promises and then get mad when people get upset about it. That’s not how it works.”
"Alright, fine," you raise your hand in the air. "Be like that then. Be fucking sad and miserable, but without me."
A heavy silence descends upon the room, one you're not inclined to endure. With a groan, you rise from the bed and make a beeline for the door. But just as your hand grips the cool handle, Lando's voice halts you.
"Wait, no, I'm sorry. Don’t go. I shouldn't have snapped at you, please just...don't go."
You ponder his words for a moment before releasing a sigh and spinning around, heading toward the dresser opposite him. Crossing your arms, you perch on its edge and simply wait, eyes fixed on the floor.
For a while, neither of you speaks until Lando breaks the silence. "You didn’t miss anything, you know? The race was shit." You tilt your gaze up, noticing the disappointment etching his face as he adds, "Again."
Your mind goes blank—you're not good at handling emotions. It's why you prefer the single, ready-to-mingle but never-more life. It's why you and Lando are whatever the hell this is. You flirt, and while you would have gladly torn his clothes off the first night you met, now it's different. There are strings attached now, so he's off-limits—your rule.
It's just friendly flirting, you'd say, but you don't even remember the last time he's had someone over on a romantic level. Come to think of it, neither have you, and it makes your skin crawl.
"Uhm," you finally respond with a shrug. "I think that calls for a night out. What do you say?"
"What, celebrate the fact that I’m a pathetic F1 driver? That people think I don’t deserve a place in F1?"
"Well, no," you cock your head sideways, walking up to him and intertwining your hand with his. "Just come and have fun, take your mind off things."
"Okay, fine. For you," he sighs, his warm breath brushing against your skin as he brings your hands to his lips, planting a gentle kiss on each, causing a chill to run down your spine.
Although you don't indulge in emotions, you're no stranger to recognising them: his eyes, fixed on yours, dance between your lips and your eyes, a confession hidden within them. It makes your heart drop.
Naturally, you withdraw your hands from his grasp, forcing a tense smile. "You should go ahead. I'll just get changed and text the others to meet us in the lobby."
Without waiting for a response, you hurriedly exit the room, craving air free from the weight of unspoken emotions.
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15th of October (📍USA 🇺🇸 )
yourusername
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liked by yourbestfriend, landonorris, thegr8khalid and 530,802 others
tagged: landonorris, yourfriend + more
yourusername we're back in the states babyyyyy 🦅🦅
view all 6002 comments
username can she like not go anywhere alone??🙄🚩🚩🚩
yourbestfriend ABOUT👏DAMN👏TIME👏
yourusername 🤭 🤭 ily xxx username imagine how tired we are y/n😕
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landonorris I think I'm fucking falling in love with you (this comment has been deleted)
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18th of October, 2022 (📍USA 🇺🇸 )
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tmz_tv
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liked by username, username, username and 31,755 others
tmz_tv In the early hours of the morning, Formula 1 driver Lando Norris was allegedly involved in a club brawl in Austin, Texas. Multiple witnesses claimed to have seen him engage in a physical altercation with an unidentified man, who was reportedly seen with party heiress Y/N L/N.
According to reports, the altercation occurred after Y/N L/N was seen in a close encounter with the unidentified man. Security guards then escorted Norris, L/N, and their friends out of the club, barring them from re-entry.
Once outside, Norris and L/N were observed engaging in a heated argument, exchanging strong language. After the altercation, they reportedly went their separate ways. L/N and a friend lingered in the area for some time, smoking and chatting, before eventually hailing a cab to depart.
Meanwhile, Norris left the scene in his car, departing from the group he had originally arrived with.
view all 11,847 comments
username *pretends to be shocked* y/n has been a slut smh
username no wonder they never confirmed or denied their relationship lmaooo they don't even know themselves🤭
username MY LANDO???? nah y/n needs to stay tf away wtf she's literally changing him 🚩🚩
username I feel like they're toxic for each other...🙁 username no bc ever since they started hanging they've literally just been partying and spiralling I fear (e.g. lando's career) username it seems like lando likes her more than she him😢
username this is crazy omg? I hope the man who got his shit rocked is fine🙏
username sry but the wording of this is sending me💀💀
username 5 days before the austin gp? papaya girls pack it up he's done😭
username 😣💔
16:38 ───────────ㅇ─ 18:20
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purelyfiction · 1 month
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NFL QB Jake 'Hangman' Seresin AU x Popstar F!Reader
Summary: NFL Quarterback Jacob Seresin is in hot water from a streak of bad decisions, just as you go through the worst public breakup of your life. With people slandering both of your reputations, your publicists hatch a plan to bring both of you back into favor and keep the heat off until spring - that is if you can keep up the facade.
Word Count: 5,334 words
Author Note: I know I have two other outstanding Top Gun fics and I swear I'm trying to get those going but I am writing what sparks joy and well.... this certainly does. || Also!! Reader's stage name is 'Celeste' with 'Este' as the nickname. So no one gets confuseddddd
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You'd never anticipated to start the biggest year of your life absolutely gutted, yet here you are. Your boyfriend – well, ex-boyfriend, severed what you had thought to be a loving, trusting and safe relationship, rather unexpectedly on New Year's Eve. Then he'd gone to the press to relay that you were a horrible person, a terrible girlfriend, too involved in your work to even bother paying attention to anyone else. The timing couldn't be worse, since you were about to start your first ever stadium tour in the spring. 
The result had been you hiding away in your little oasis that was your condo in California’s southern escape of San Diego. You’d stayed off the internet, binging TV shows that you’d been too busy to pay attention to and immersing yourself in anything you could, to erase the four year relationship you’d been splintered from. The garbage people probably wondered why there were a near dozen empty quarter pints of ice cream in your recycling bin, but that wasn’t for them to care about. At least you’d recycled them. 
Now, three weeks into the new year, with your favorite Chinese on the way, you sit on your couch going over tour visuals. Your lighting engineer is rambling on the line as you hear the gate buzzer go off. You’re quick to collect your dinner as one of the others on the line gasp and quickly mute their mic. “What?” You quip, walking to your expansive kitchen and dropping the large paper bag down. You’re half paying attention when the employee brushes you off, as your hand pulls container after container of food from the magical Mary Poppins-style bag. Getting to the bottom, you grasp for a pair of chopsticks, only to find several sets of them, along with a dozen fortune cookies. You take a moment to look over your four entrees and styrofoam container of sushi. The audacity of them to think you would be sharing any of this. 
Finally, you address the matter of your dramatic tech director. “What’s the deal over there Hollywood?” You chide, before your phone is ringing, leaving you to hang up the video call to answer the phone. It’s your publicist and you know better than to let her calls go unanswered.
“Check your inbox.” Her voice is frigid instead of it’s usually cheery demeanor.   
“Hello to you too?” Begrudgingly, you do as she commands, finding the email she sent to you. 
Jonah Carter agreed to sit down for an interview with UsWeekly, post-breakup to clear the air and to make sure no one else would fall for his ex-girlfriend's (Celeste) playful, girl-next-door-ish facade.
"At first, it felt like a dream come true," Carter, an up-and-coming actor within his own right, said almost sheepishly. "I thought she was talented and kind, but I should've known it was too good to be true."
But there's more to this pop-star than Jonah says meets the eye. In addition to the vanity and self-importance that seems to plague this generation's starlets, Este was a vindictive slob who routinely talked behind the back of even her closest friends. "It makes me wonder what she's saying about me, now, after everything I've heard her say about those who think are closest to her." The concern for others is written very clearly on the actor’s face as he speaks. When I question the songstress’ messages about authenticity, the man adjusts in his seat as he holds back a laugh. 
"She'd like you to believe she writes all her own music, but I'm not sure she could write a full sentence without the help of her team," Jonah chuckled nervously into his coffee. "Sorry, that was rude. I don't want to stoop to her level." Cowed brown eyes made me wonder what else he had endured behind closed doors. It struck a chord within me. 
“Why did you stay as long as you had if this was what you were facing?” I ask him. The expression of his kind features morphs into despair. 
“When we first met, Celeste was someone I admired. Her compassion, her drive and her dedication to the things she valued spoke so deeply to what I did, what I still do-” he fumbles as he attempts to source the proper words, “They just… weren’t her beliefs. They were her team’s.” Jonah lets out a pained sound, “I think when we got toward the end of it, I realized that she has this way of manipulating what she says, how she acts, to make herself look good. She puts on a show, on and off the stage and you pay for it one way or another. So, I knew what she was capable of. I knew she could be that person if she really wanted to and I wanted so badly to help her see that. I eventually learned that people see what they want to see.”
God, what a load of hot garbage this was. It was a particularly rare batch, clearly it had been baking in a dumpster in the scorching sun with the lid closed. All damp, with a horrendous mix of something rotting and old crusty seaweed. 
The tour was supposed to be announced on the first of the month and here your ex was selling stories (horribly narrated and mangled stories) to the press. You might as well have been kicking puppies at this point. 
“Isn’t he just swell? Nothing but peak wisdom from good ol’ Jonah.” Your eyes could’ve strained themselves with how far back they rolled. Probably the only time he’d ever made them do that too.
“I’ve already called a team together to brainstorm. I don't want you to respond. Stay offline, away from all of it and don't entertain any of the discourse. Not until I have something to work with.” 
“None of it is true we both know that-” You begin to laugh but she cuts you off.
“As much as I want to be on your side here, we are working to put out a fire. Your silence the last three weeks has put you at a massive disadvantage and frankly? The public eye doesn’t see you in the greatest space right now.” You know she’s right. She always is, and right now ‘Celeste’ was synonymous with ‘cynical, fake and fraudulent’. You wouldn’t be shocked if the uproar demanded you be canceled based off of this testimony. 
It wasn’t all but two days later that you were called in by your PR team. Into the office in New York for the first time since before Thanksgiving. It had been a busy end of the year and now that the new one was coming in so ferociously you weren’t looking toward any of the things you once had been. This was the first time back into the light and so you had made sure that the inevitable cameras had something to look at. You’d dressed yourself in your favorites, in an effort to boost your confidence as best as you could. Putting on a show, just like you had been when things had been on the rocks with Jonah. 
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Getting to the office, you’re nearly trampled with the amount of people that swarm you. It’s not normally this bad - hell it’s never this bad. It isn’t until you catch sight of a football jersey and an ESPN logo that your brow furrows. Odd. 
Stepping into the building, you’re pushing your sunglasses up onto your head, looking down at your ringing phone and trying to slide your coat off simultaneously. Instead, you crash right into what you think is a wall, but is instead a broad man, looking rather lost. 
“Easy there, Twinkle Toes.” You guffaw and look up at the blonde man before returning your eyes toward your feet. Of course, the bedazzled statement boots on your feet call attention to themselves before the rest of the outfit can balance itself out. 
“Alright, Prince Charming, you first.” You snicker before stepping out of his way and start to the elevator. Unfortunately for you, he’s apparently heading your way as well, needing access to the lift to the next floor. 
“Prince Charming, huh? I mean I’ve been called worse.” His shoulders roll backwards as the elevator dings to one of the other floors. You keep your head trained forward, suddenly remembering the rule you’d been given. Stay quiet, don’t engage. And here you were giving sass to a stranger and showing up in bedazzled booties. You were really digging this grave deeper than necessary. So, instead of giving him another sassy response, you keep your eyes locked to the neon numbers as the elevator passes each floor. “Oh so, now I’m getting a cold shoulder? Darn, I was really ready to ask you all about the boots on your feet, too.” You can’t help but let your eyes move back over to the broad male, just out of the corner of your eye. His face is completely locked on you, shamelessly at that. “They expensive? They got that waxy red paint on the bottoms of ‘em?” Silently, you turn one of your feet up to give him a glimpse at the blue bottom of the shoe. “Huh, blue. That’s fun. That more expensive than the LouButton or whatever they are?” Finally the elevator reaches your floor, hopefully shutting this chatterbox up for the time being. Yet the questions continue like an immature toddler as you rise up the floors - going to the same floor nonetheless. “Hey, you’re that Celeste chick aren’t ya?” 
“Yes.” You finally answer one of his questions, his face lighting up.
“Oh look at that, she cracks.” Another eye roll times well with the sound of the elevator reaching the desired floor. Instead of responding, you quickly find your way through the glass hallways and to the desired room. You are so glad to be in the presence of the familiar group, the stranger in the elevator having rattled your composure somewhat. Your manager comes in with a cup of coffee and a smile, which immediately puts one on yours. 
“You didn’t have to do that!” You cheer, reaching out for it as she sits beside you. 
“When you see what Rachel has come up with, you’re going to need it.” Oh. Reassuring. 
You see her point when Prince Charming steps into the board room, followed by a host of men in dress clothes and suits, all matching the blue soles of your boots. Charming sits directly across from you, a hand wiggling his fingers as he waves at you. Oh good. 
“Thank you everyone for coming. I know this is a very polarizing group, so before we get ahead of ourselves, I want to introduce Celeste, or Este as we all have come to call her over the years.” Awkwardly, you wave at the foreign men. They grunt and nod. You were already having doubts and not a word had been spoken on their end. “I also want to introduce Beau Simpson, public relations coordinator for the San Diego Sea Lions, Coach Natasha Trace, and Sea Lions owner, Tom Kazansky.”
Sea Lions? As in the NFL team that had been built not even three years ago but had made it to all three playoffs in their short time? The one that Jonah had ridiculed immensely when it joined the league because ‘California doesn’t need another group of inflated egos in the league’? 
“I’m really feeling the love here, Rach.” Charming speaks up and the raven haired woman on the other side of the table sighs. 
“This is Jacob Seresin, starting quarterback for the Sea Lions.” The coach speaks, the blonde man brushing off her introduction. 
“No need for full names, Trace. Clearly we only do the stage name around here.” That was a clear jab to you if you’d ever heard it. “Hangman’s what they call me.” His hand juts across the glass, toward you. Your hands stay tucked under your biceps. 
“Pleasure to meet you.” It’s passive, turning to your team leader. “Rachel. I’m not seeing a connection here.” 
“Jacob is in the same pot of hot water you’re in.” Your attention moves to the similarly broad man who stands up, towering over Rachel. “We feel as though we can spin this to both of your advantages. Jake needs to stop sleeping around–”
“Easy now, Simpson.” The eldest in the room stands up and he gives you a kind smile. It’s not a farce though. You’re not entirely sure what makes it so genuine, but you smile in return of seeing him stand, despite it taking a slight bit of effort to do so. “What he means is, Jake’s professional status has changed due to the words of someone else and we’re determined to alter that. Rachel identified this and made quite the proposal.” The young woman seems all too cheery to cut off the old man. 
“You’re both having relationship woes–” The raven haired woman on Jacob’s team speaks under her breath. 
“Wouldn’t call them relationships.”
“And by putting you two together, we feel as though we can put you into a positive light. Let’s face it, putting two very successful, and attractive people who are already in the spotlight allows people to follow the developing love story. Este attends games, plays the WAG card, has an opportunity to be seen in the public eye more frequently and dispels the ill-spoken words that were published about her this week. Jake gets the proof that he isn’t just a love-em-and-leave-em type.” Your eyes spell out the doubt you’re feeling, looking at your team who is just as skeptical. “That’s just the beginning! Celeste is going on tour this year. Stadiums all across the country have her booked and ready for the summer. We have a captive audience already following these games to see Este and Jake together, and we get brand recognition. The conversations that will come as she gets to witness her betrothed play in a stadium she would be performing in that very summer.”
Now you see where the benefit actually is. Clearing your name while simultaneously promoting your tour in the process. Seeing stadiums you’ve booked and would hopefully sell out. 
“So how are you proposing this works? We’ll need a start, an end - a story on how we met–”
“Well,” Beau settles in his seat, twisting in the desk chair as he draws in the attention of the group, “we have the major details hypothesized. Rachel and I will work with one another to get the rest of it together. For now, you two met at a New Years Eve party.” 
Oh joy. Now you get to remember that bitter break-up that led you here, every time you speak about him. 
The man looks like he walked out of a surfing magazine, as it were. Now, the scowl on his features paints him as a devil. Long hair, muscular arms on display as he leans into the table in front of him. 
“If we don’t do this?” Jake leans back in his chair, a hand coming to fiddle with the lingering 5 o’clock shadow that he has omitted in his morning routine. 
“We don’t do this and there will be a lack of support for the Sea Lions. You’ll have painted the entire team as jackasses who can’t focus to save their life, especially if you continue to party and hook up with whomever your dick has the hots for that night-” Beau has gone off the handle and Tom speaks up again. 
“The point is, public favor will stay low and it will not bode well for the team. With a lack of support, we have empty seats. Empty seats translates to less viewers, then to less money and you know the song and dance. Not to mention morale for the upcoming playoffs. We need to keep the team happy, Hangman. It’s time to do something to benefit everyone.” 
Jake’s expression deepens, as though he was a young child just scolded by his father for his poor behavior. Green eyes shift and face you, his hand jutting out toward you. 
“I’m in.” His hand hovers. Waiting for you to join him in this grand scheme. Glancing at your own team, they look rather haunted. At this point, it was this or to hope that a long string of possible good stories and fan interactions can redeem you. 
You want this to pass. And if this would make it go faster… you grab Jake’s hand firmly.
“What’s there to lose?”
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You went back onto social media. Posted some photos you’d taken with friends back at the beginning of the month, from the worst party of your life. The photos at least were cute and you loved the dress you’d gotten to wear. Luckily these photos were all taken prior to midnight. So there were no red eyes. No ruined mascara and glitter across your cheeks. No freezing car rides home and empty beds. 
Mindlessly, you scroll through the comments. 
Flameth: can still make the whole place shimmer ✨
RunTao: phony photos
Romanacent: so glad to see you’re not letting him get to you!
H_ngm_n: you’re still gonna let me borrow those boots right
It’s the last one you’d been keeping an eye out for. Boots? Looking back at the photo, you scroll through the carousel until you spot them. 
The same shiny sparkly rhinestone boots you’d worn to your meeting. 
Celeste: @h_ngm_n I’m a woman of my word, of course 🤗
Not even a week goes by before you’re ‘spontaneously’ at a bar in LA. Jake has been there for the last two hours, as he insisted you both show up alone and then end up leaving together. You eventually found him in the VIP section, drinking with his buddies. 
You made sure to keep your distance for a few minutes - after all, his friends had no idea this was going down. The only people who knew about this little arrangement were your respective PR teams. That was it. No one else from your teams, your friends and family, absolutely no one knew what your little plan was. Maybe you should just leave. It was a verbal contract, you didn’t sign anything, you were just trying to make this work for the two of you-
The bartender pulls you from your deliberations. There is now a drink that you certainly didn’t order sitting in front of you. Well there was no going back now. Jake had likely made a show of sending over the drink and now you had to go through with this. Glancing over your shoulder, you see the jock, legs spread, arms resting on the back of the booth chair. Green eyes lock in your direction and send a cocky wink as a garnish to your drink. 
You are about to win your first Oscar with this performance. Throwing on a grin, you pick up the drink and easily sashay your way over to him and his football buddies. Some flash titanium wedding bands, some platinum. Some aren’t wearing them at all, like your date, mister 83 who leans forward upon your approach. “Well, well, well, long time no see hot shot.”
“Speak for yourself, pop star.” Jake stands to greet you, his arms coming around you, carefully as to not spill either of your drinks. You catch a whiff of his cologne when he does so. It’s rich, familiar in the way it reminds you of summers camping. Bonfire smoke and smores. Yet clean, like when you came home to a clean house, citrus floor cleaner lingering in the halls. Pulling back, you almost move forward again to sit in it. Easy does it. 
“Oh come on, three weeks isn’t that long.” You chide. While most of his body has pulled away from the hug, his free hand still sits on your waist, warm against the AC of the exclusive bar. 
“Technically it was a year ago.” Jake smirks before taking a sip of his drink and you want to groan. So you do. But spin it into something more playful. 
“Observant, are we?” You nearly snarl as you take a sip of your drink, Jake’s colleagues standing up. The one who’d sat right next to him grins and extends a hand. He’s tall, lean but has a stunning smile as he steps your way.
“Not sure we’ve met. Javy Machado, running back, San Diego Sea Lions-” the blonde looks at his friend with an amused scoff. 
“I think she knows who the Sea Lions are, Jav.” The look on the captain’s face is one of skepticism and amusement. You were here to dispel rumors. So, as much as you’d like to smack Jake for being a dick to his friend, you shake his teammate’s hand instead 
“In passing. I don’t follow football closely, but I get by. Celeste.” The smile on your face is genuine as the next player stands. Kind eyes, a domestic bar of hair on his upper lip and the build of a pickup truck, he goes for a quick one armed hug. When he lets go, you have to wipe the temptation of any swooning you were compelled to do. Especially since a gold band glistens on his left hand. 
You’re here for Jake anyways. 
“Name’s Bradley Bradshaw. They call me Rooster.” Your eyebrow furrows as your head twists. Before you can ask, another man on the other side of the room laughs. 
“You should hear him on the field when he’s sacking someone.” This one, curls and meticulously groomed facial hair to boot, leans forward and shakes your hand kindly. “I’m Mickey. That back there is Bob.”  
True to his word, at the end of the bench is a long haired man, tucked into his phone and fiddling with a ring. He doesn’t seem to match the energy of the rest of the group. Curious. “Bob!” He glances up at the sound of his name, blue eyes flitting from face to face before spotting you. When he does he breaks out into a smile. 
“Celeste! Gosh, wow it’s so cool to meet you! My girls adore your music.” This catches Jake’s attention, a brow popping up. 
“Aren’t both of ‘em less than five?” He asks and Bob looks between the two of you. 
“Yeah? It’s never too early to introduce them to great music and influential women.” There’s no faking the smile on your face as you reach over and shake his hand. When you do, you look at Jake with a ‘would you look at that’ coded grin. 
“That’s amazing to hear! I’m glad they have fun with it! That’s why I do it.” You glance back at Jake as he comes behind you, hand shifting to the small of your back. 
“Pay’s in the bathroom, I’m sure you’ll meet him sometime later tonight.” The quarterback gives a nod to his group, before guiding the two of you to a high top table not too far from them. When you sit down he looks at you with a laugh. “Flirt much?” 
“Excuse me?” Jumping to the defense, you watch Jake roll his eyes and then look back at Bradley, before facing you. 
“You were practically eye-fucking him.” 
“Was not.” 
“He’s happily married, leave him be.” The blonde sips at his drink and you can’t help but laugh when you realize he’s giving you a hard time. 
“Right, right, guess I’ll bother you instead.” The tease is off your lips in two seconds. Maybe he was right, you were coming off strong. You huff and sink into yourself briefly. “I don’t know if you realized this, but I haven’t had ‘flirt’,” your fingers mark the quotation marks in the air, “with anyone in a while. Let alone fake it.” 
Jake leans back in his chair, downing the rest of his beverage a smirk making way when he sets the glass down. 
“Don’t worry, you won’t be faking it for long.” 
The two of you sat at that table for probably an hour, bickering over which of the Pirates of The Caribbean movies were the best, and why glitter was a detriment to society. Another round of drinks and the football star return to the table as he laughs when he spills a little of your overflowing drink. 
“No, no I assure you. Glitter originated in some high tech nuclear weapons factory to make the enemy go insane upon introducing it to an environment.” He pushes your drink toward you as you pull your hair back. Not only were you not anticipating for him to be this passionate about it, but you weren’t planning on the night going like this. 
You were enjoying yourself. Jake had told you about his time at UT, six years spent studying communications no less. 
It made sense when you really dissected it. Jake had the ease to hold someone’s attention: he’d held yours this long after all, and he was well spoken. Both were things that were shocking to you. He soon enough revealed the plan had always been football. Communications was for post-retirement, when he got tired out and wanted to be back in the stadiums. 
Stories of his dad commentating his high school games came fondly before he asked about your background. You were a bit hesitant to divulge too much, but what you had was pretty bare-bones. 
Music had always been a hobby but never a career choice. You’d planned to go into school for a degree in education, a masters in English. Go and teach for a bit before getting your PhD in some niche of the world of writing and then become a professor at your alma mater. 
With the rise of social media and the multitudinous connections of the internet, a little original song of yours got popular. Local radio picked it up and then your label signed you. 
“It all was pretty spontaneous, really,” you answer. “My career was in no way by design, but… I wouldn’t change it.” The smile on your face is small, but genuine as your hair falls back around your face. Tracing the rim of your glass, you keep your eyes down before a hand pushes your hair out of your face. Coming eye to eye with him, he grins. 
“Guess it was written in the stars then.” His response catches you. Jake’s eyes are much softer than when you’d approached him earlier. They were dark, focused and possibly a little mischievous. Now? They were gentle. Every shade reassured you that the boisterous man you’d seen in the office and the press was nothing like the man under the helmet. 
It made far more sense to you now. How he’d gotten women hooked on him. The abrasiveness and bold exterior was the casing to the real character. 
How many women had actually made it past the outside?
The rustling of a fabric on leather comes from in front of you, watching as the blonde pulls out a wad of cash from his pocket. 
“Please tell me this isn’t you trying to buy my affection there, Seresin.” As he stands up, pushing his wallet back, the grin carved on his face doesn’t leave when he shakes his head. 
“No, no, princess. This is for the bartender. Turns out you’re not a cheap date.” His knuckles wrap onto the table briefly before he disappears. You blame the blush on your face on the humidity inside the building. 
The two of you bid your goodbyes, before starting to the front of the bar to exit. Reaching the street, it’s expectantly empty. He takes the side closest to the street as the two of you head down the way, toward the row of restaurants and shops that were quiet for the night. 
“Are you hungry?” Jake’s voice breaks through the cold of late January air, looking at him quizzically. 
“If you’re hungry we could go back-” His hand comes to your back again as he shakes his head. 
“Oh-ho, no ma’am I promise, I’ve got something way better.” 
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Unfortunately, he was right. The two of you stand in the glow of food truck lighting, beyond messy tacos in hand. He’s watching you with a smirk on his face, obnoxiously chewing the fish taco in his hand. 
“Is that not the best taco you’ve ever had?” Again, his voice is filled with ardor as he watches you attempt to maneuver the soft corn tortilla that seems to be spilling into your napkin. 
“It’s… a taco.” You shrug, looking down at the brown beef meal in your hands. Jake shakes his head, still chewing. 
“No, no, I will not have you slander Ganso’s Tacos. Absolutely not.” He sets his red basket down on a table, hand in a vice grip around his taco. “Here, open,” he maneuvers closer and you shake your head, backing up. 
“I am not eating your taco!”
“Eat it!!” The two of you laugh. Finally, you concede and take a bite of the hand fed taco. When he finally takes it back to his plate, his expression eagerly waits for your reaction.  One hand covers your mouth as you chew, nodding as Jake looks like he just stole the Mona Lisa without getting caught. 
“You’re right.” One singular fist to the air and he’s back to scarfing down his tacos. 
“I told you. Way better than bar food. This is by far the best taqueria in all of California. And I stand by that.” 
With full stomachs and messy hands, the two of you start back toward the bar, where Jake’s parked. When you do, you finally notice a car has been tailing the two of you since you ordered your meal. 
The crowd in front of the bar proves that your teams were certainly on to something. Flashes of light start in an onslaught, your hand coming to block your eyes. Still, you keep walking toward them, only for Jake to grab your hand and guide you toward his car. 
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Voices shout, questions sail through the air, your name, his name, Jonah’s, more questions about football- it all gets crammed into the cacophony before the passenger door opens under Jake’s hand, guiding you to your escape pod. 
The driver side door causes the car to shake with an unceremonious thud. In seconds, the engine to the sports car is ignited and the two of you are underway. 
It isn’t until you get about two miles out that one of you finally speaks. 
“How long do you think it’s going to take for those to show up online?” White lines on the road disappear as you head further and further from the bars and closer to the hotel you were staying at for the weekend. 
“I give it maybe six hours. Four if we’re lucky.” He laughs, but it doesn’t match the hearty ones he shared with you earlier.
A sports broadcast plays lowly on the radio, both of you overwhelmed by the cameras that stimulating conversation was far from what either of you were concerned with. It isn’t long until you spot your hotel. Jake navigates into the lane closest to the front of the building, pressing down on the brakes. You’re just about to unbuckle when he pulls back out into the other lane, lurching forward and away from your accommodation. 
“Um. Hello?” You question. The car whips around a turn, green eyes fixated to the rear view. Shifting in your seat, you glance behind you. 
“We’re being followed.” Jake just barely makes the light before it turns red, leaving the tailing SUV behind. 
“It’s probably just paparazzi, no big deal.” It’s easy to shrug off for you, but Jake huffs. 
“Yeah. And I’m not dropping you off at a hotel alone with vultures circling.” Navigating the CarPlay in the vehicle, he quickly moves to messages and asks his phone to send someone to your hotel to gather your things. 
“Jake, I’m-”
“You’re staying with me.”
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