#CAN WE TALK ABOUT THE FILMING AND THE SCRIPT?! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

luvyeni · 8 months ago

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PERSONAS ,, 이제노

⸃ ⸰ ⌁ jeno is surprised by your persona... both of them ヾ

PORNSTAR!이제노・ CAMGIRL!reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ wc ・ 6.4k ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library

𓂃 🎞️ content warning... sex on film, rough-ish sex, oral sex ( M ), unprotected sex, facial

「 ୨୧ authors note 」 finally did a fic based on this photoshoot , doesn’t he look like a 80’s pornstar?

camgirling was only supposed to be something you did for fun, and the cash you got from it wasn't too bad either — you never expected to blow up like you did, the people really liked you.

when you first started it was slow, but that didn't last long and soon you gained a small following. it wasn't until you did a face reveal that you blew up — the fans loved you; that day alone you gained 100k new followers. from that day on you only grew more; more money rolled in which granted you the ability to move into a bigger apartment, pay off your debts and live comfortably without stress.

“it's your persona” your friends would say; you weren't shy about you did for work; you felt like you didn't need to be — no you weren't telling a stranger on the street you did camgirling , but you didn't hide it from your friends. “you're a walking porn trope.” donghyuck; your best friend said. “innocent girl next door look , but we all saw you deepthroat a 6in dildo without gagging.”

that should've offended you but you were used to it. “yeah , that pigmented blush bows and wide puppy dog eyes is cute and all, but it's that and the fact that you bounced on a 7in strap-on attached to a stuffed bear that turns people on.” ryujin said. “you have a face for porn.”

“is there a difference?” your friends looked at you. “duh , of course!” haechan said. “camgirling is mostly done in the comfort of your own home , low production.” he said. “porn is different, with porn there's a script almost like a movie with a crew , and another actor.” you and ryujin both looked at each other. “uh you seem real passionate about that…” he shrugged. “I'm a man of course i do , that's why i know you would be perfect for porn.”

“what would i get out of bad acting in room full of men with hardon watching me be badly fucked by another macho man on viagra and red bull?” you scoffed. “expect a sore clit and a cumshot to the face that tastes like battery acid?” ryujin looked around the cafe where you were sitting , making sure no one heard the conversation. “would you both keep it down?”

“more money, a new following.” he responded nonchalantly , your ears perked up. “go on.” you said now listening. “well the website you use now, it's big but it's niche , only a few new visitors monthly.” he started. “you do one porn video with a good actor with a good following , bingo! you get a new following from his following and it reaches a bigger audience who stumble across your video.” you had to admit although he was loud and you're pretty sure the sweet old lady walking past heard everything, he talked a big game.

“what are you a porn star scout?” ryujin laughed while taking a sip of her hot chocolate. “wait is that a thing?” he asked, you shook your head. “that does sound good, my rent just went up and there's a new pair of shoes that have been sitting in my cart.” you said. “yn don't do porn for a pair of louboutins and rent , get a roommate.” ryujin said, trying to be the voice of reason. “would you do it?” you asked her.

“i love you so i would never lie to you.” she said. “yeah , give me the script.” the three of you busting out into a fit of laughter. “plus if you don't like it then you can easily go back to camgirling.” she said. “and i don't think all male pornstars are bad.”

“and you know this how?” she looked at you. “you think i don't watch porn?” she questioned. “the acting? horrible but who's watching porn for the plot.” haechan raised his hand. “haechan be fucking for real.” you snickered. “what big dick delivery man and hot lonely milf is a work of art.” he said with a serious face. “oh he serious i think.” ryujin said. “that's the scary thing.”

“you know not all the acting is bad either.” ryujin spoke up. “yeah jeno is good even my dick gets hard when i listen to him speak.” you choose to ignore him. “who's jeno.” you asked. “you don't know jeno? the lee jeno, he's huge in the porn world.” ryujin said, you scoffed. “sorry im not familiar with the ryan reynolds of porn.” you said. “you think ryan reynolds would do porn?”

“lee jeno is a huge pornstar; he doesn't even just do porn , he's a model, he walks on runways as well , he's invited into classy spaces despite showing the world his dick.” the girl explained. “and i heard the girls he fucks on camera…” she said. “those orgasms are real.” haechan nodded in agreement. “i heard that too.”

“if you could get with him, you'd be set.” you rolled your eyes. “if he's as good as you say why the fuck would he film a video with me?” you scoffed. “pussy is pussy and money is money.” ryujin shrugged , the horrified worker walked past making the three of you laugh. “my god ryu , you sound like a man.”

“check him out; i swear you'll understand why he's famous.”

“come in , come in.” you flashed a smile to the camera; this wasn't a camgirl video, but a regular live that you sometimes did because your fans wanted you to — for what? you don't question, they pay you to just talk half naked. “how was everyone's day?”

you read through the comments; thanking the commenters for the donations. “what did i do today?” you read off. “well i ran some errands, got a few new toys.” you smirked. “oh and i had some coffee with some friends.” you said. “they told me i have a face for porn.”

the comments blew up with people agreeing. “i guess you guys agree as well.” you giggled playing into that act they loved so muched, reading more comments.

6inchking. what i would do to film a video with you.

user34.52. fuck yes , i would kill to see you fuck someone else.

allsizesmatter. you should film with lee jeno.

“oh? i keep hearing that name, my friends said the same thing.” you said. “is he really that good? maybe i should watch some of his videos.” you said, rolling your eyes at the comments that were in disbelief that you watched porn. “guys don't be ridiculous , why wouldn't i watch porn?” you laughed, grabbing your phone. “let's look him up.”

you typed into the search bar; waiting for the screen to load. “let's see if he lives up to what everyone says he is.” the screen finally loading, the most finest fucking man popping up on your screen. “oh he's really good looking.” you said scrolling through the many pictures. “really good looking.” you almost forgot you were on live — not only was his face godly , it looked like he was sculpted by the gods himself.

user24.52. look at her , already turned on just by his photos.

user22.63. to be looked at by her liked that.

“guys stop.” you giggled, cheeks red. “he is cute though.” you said. “im already so tired from the day.” you said; and yes you were tired, but you also wanted to watch on of his videos. “am i gonna watch one of his videos?” you smiled innocently , before shrugging. “i guess you guys will never know will you.” you blew a kiss to the camera. “bye bye.” you turned the camera off.

after that you wasted no time, climbing into your bed. your phone in your hand as you get comfortable, reaching over into your nightstand grabbing your rose toy; taking off your panties , pulling down your bra , sighing as the wind hit your nipples. “fuck.” you scrolled through jenos account— he had 5.5 million followers; way more than your messily 345k, he was a big deal.

you scrolled through his videos , settling on the most recent one. clicking the video — normally you'd skip the whole “acting scene” but this guy was known for his good acting so you decided to see for yourself.

you were a little bored at first, but as the scene went on you came to the realization that it was one of the best scenes you'd ever watched when watching porn, even though the actress was good , it almost seemed like regular video — besides the bright production lights and 4k hd cameras , and the fact that the beautiful actress herself was dressed in expensive lingerie and heels. her makeup done to the nines.

and then there was jeno; he was just as fine on video than in camera. his voice alone had you itching to touch yourself, which you did— fingers ghosting over your nipples; eyes closing. you almost forgot about the video, until you heard moaning. you opened your eyes to jeno sticking his cock into the girl. believe it or not , you weren't fucking just anyone , you actually only had sex with a few people , but their sizes compared to his were vastly different.

you understood why he was so famous; jeno was extremely good at his job. it was like you were watching a real couple fuck in their bed; jeno was rough; but not like those horrible videos where it looked like the girl wasn't enjoying it — the way the actresses eyes were crossed, it looked like she was very much enjoying it.

you curled your fingers up into your g-spot, thrusting your fingers in and out of your dripping hole. your moans , jenos and the actresses filled your empty room. you wanted to drop the phone and just finish already, desperate to cum , but you couldn't, it was like you were in a trance. the actress came with a loud scream. “oh fuck.” you moaned as jeno brought the girl to her knees , cumming all over the girls face — lord how you wished it was you.

your legs crossed over your hand as you came, back arching off the bed. “fuck!” you sighed as you came down from your high , the next random video playing on your phone. you turned it off , desperately trying to catch your breath. he had this effect on you and all you did was watch his videos.

getting up to clean yourself off; washing your body and your hair. getting out , drying off. you threw on an oversized shirt not bothering to put on underwear, it was just you. grabbing a snack before making your way back to bed to watch tv.

meanwhile a few miles away; jeno sat in his chair scrolling through his feed. he hated night shoots , everyone was tired and ready to go home. the actress today just wasn't good , her acting sucked , she was bitching about everything; how she hated the script; how the outfit was ugly — how she wanted him to cum. he was all for women wanting to what they wanted , but damn how was it his fault he wasn't turned on enough to cum as much as she wanted.

“jeno?” his manager and best friend jaemin , walked into his dressing room. “is it time to go?” he said, not looking up. “well … no, she's still complaining, something about you being too big.” jeno smirked. “so we're figuring that out now.” he said. “can we just sat fuck this shoot and go home?” he said. “im doing them a favor, i don't need the money.” he said. “yeah sure.” jaemin said. “what can they do?” he told the assistant on hand to tell them they were leaving. “what did you want?” he said, putting on his sweats. “when? oh to just show you this.”

he pulled the sweatshirt over his head; taking the phone from his friend's hand. “what am i looking at, who is this girl?” he stared at the screen , watching you talk. “she's cute , new girlfriend?”

“i don't date, she's a camgirl.” he scoffed at his friend. “her?” he looked at you once again. “stop fucking around her?” you looked so innocent, dressed like a doll , cute makeup, cheeks extremely pink from blush, normally jeno thinks that makeup look is crazy, but you made it work. “she doesn't even look like she's seen a porn film.”

“not everything is what it seems my friend look.” he clicked another video— and he swore he was watching another girl. “did she just?” jeno was shocked. “yes , she did.” his friend smirked while he stared in shock as he watched you take a 9in toy down your throat without gagging. “no gag reflex , if she has a boyfriend he's a lucky fucking bastard.”

jeno pushed the phone away; not that he didn't want to see it, but he also didn't want to cum in his pants to a video in front of his friend. “why are you showing me this?” he said. “you know i don't do camming.”

“yeah , but people want you both to collaborate. apparently she talked about you today and the internet is going crazy.” jaemin said. “she has good following , not as big as yours , but that shouldn't even matter , bro she doesn't have a gag reflex , i’d do it for fun.” jeno picked his bag up, slinging it over his shoulder. “does she even have a manager? does she even want to do porn? why am i asking the questions that i pay you to already have answered before coming to me?”

“she's a independent artist i think, but I'm sure she'd answer a dm.” jeno lifted his eyebrow. “yeah , because she'd answer a random message asking her does she want to do porn , bro she gets those messages daily.” he said. “im sure i could work it out.” he said. “well then come back to me when you do.” jeno slapped his friends chest. “now let's go im hungry.” he said. “i’ll send you that link to the full video , you have to see it.”

“which one did you watch?” haechan asked. “why are we having this conversation right now?” you said cheeks red. “you've literally told us about how you — the recent one.” you interrupted ryujin before she embarrassed you. “i watched the recent one.” she nodded. “oh that one is good, that actress is hot.” she said , hyuck nodding in agreement. “she is.”

“she was, they both were.” you said. “and the acting was good , i actually watched it.” haechan pointed. “told you sometimes the plot just hits.”

“i thought i was watching a couple fucking, either one , that actress is in the wrong business or two , he's a good fucker and she wasn't acting.” you said. “she actually looked excited for him to cum on her.” you could still hear the moans playing in your head. “okay snap out of it , no one wants to watch you get turned on in public.” ryujin said , haechan scoffed. “speak for yourself.”

you laughed , your phone buzzing making you break away from the conversation; it was a message from twitter dm. you ignored it , thinking it was a normal everyday dm from a fan. you sat your phone down only for it to go off multiple times. “girl you got a boyfriend we don't know about? who the hell is texting you like that?” ryujin picked up your phone. “probably a weird fan, im gonna close my dms”

that didn't stop ryujin from clicking the messages, ready to troll the person. “oh girl , i don't think so.” she handed you the device back. “what is it?”

reading through the text messages. “what is it , don't leave me out.” haechan whined. “it's from jenos manager.” ryujin said , haechan sat up from his seat. “what let me see.” he snatched the phone. “oh my god , jeno wants to film with you.” he said. “it's like the porn gods answered us.”

“must you act like a neanderthal? it's probably a fake account.” haechan clicked the account. “it's verified and there's pictures of them together , they seem close.” he said. “he wants you to call him , he gave you a number to call.” he gave you back the phone. “oh my god let's go back to yours so you can call.”

they basically dragged you back to your apartment after that, forcing you to call the boy. “you both have to shut the fuck up if i put it on speaker.” you said typing down the number into the keypad. “probably about to call a random guy just so he can jerk off to my voice.” you pushed the call button. “don't you do that already.” you scoffed. “yeah but i get paid for it.”

the three of you sitting around the bed waiting for them to answer. “hello?” you picked up the phone. “is this na jaemin?” you said. “yes is this yn? i know your voice— wait, not like that.” your two friends snickered. “it's fine, i almost didn't call you, i thought you were a weird fan.”

“understandable; it's probably a weird text , but it me and everything i sent was true.” he said. “it is?” your eyes widened. “s-so he really does want to film with me?” you asked. “yes , he does.” you wanted to squeal , but you didn't want to seem desperate. “oh that's cool.” you said. “oh that's cool?” ryujin whispered to herself. “shut up.” you gritted through your teeth. “excuse me.”

“oh nothing.” you said. “oh okay, well first thing, we set up a meeting with you both.” he said. “just so when you film it won't be too awkward , then we film.”

“that's it?” you said. “that's it , you both show up to film, we'll provide everything else for you.” you looked at your friends who nodded their heads. “how does that sound?” he said. “i guess that's fine.” you said. “great! i’ll let him know, are you free tomorrow?”

“tomorrow? uh yeah sure im free.” you said. “great i'll send the address where to meet us see you tomorrow!” you hung up the phone. “oh my god i can't believe that just happened.” you tossed the phone down on the bed. “this is crazy , you get to film with lee jeno.” haechan said. “i almost want to be in your shoes.”

the next day you got ready for the meeting; putting on your best outfit — so you wouldn't feel so nervous, and maybe to impress them a little. jaemin had sent you the address the night before and lucky for you it was in walking distance from your place. “im almost there's , so I'll call you back when it's over.” you said the restaurant in your view. “you better and be careful , just cause there hasn't been a serial killer porn star, doesn't mean there can't be one.” ryujin ordered. “okay im here.”

you quickly said your goodbyes, before hanging up. you reached for the door , walking into the restaurant. you looked down at your phone, ready to send the man a text when someone tapped your shoulders. “yn?”

“oh hi.” you smiled. “i was just about to text you.” you put your phone away. “you're right on time , jeno is over there.” he said “let's go.” your hands were sweating from nerves as you approached the table , the man himself coming into view. “don't be nervous, he's not as intimidating as he looks on camera.” he said. “jeno.”

the boy looked up from his phone; and he almost did a double take. you really didn't look like what you did for work; gorgeous? yes. but he just couldn't see you doing what he saw you do the night before. “oh shit.” he stood up. “hey.” he said , holding his hands out. you reached for his hand , shaking it. “h-hi.”

“both of you sit down , sit down and get comfortable.” jaemin said. “before i give you some space , let's go over the details.” he sat down. “okay.” you smiled.

jeno didn't need to listen; jaemin would just repeat it over for him — instead he just looked at you, studying you. he watched you fiddle with your nails while listening to his friend intently. his eyes traveling down to your lips, biting the bottom one. “jeno?” jaemin knocked him out of his thoughts. “what?” he watched you shuffle in your seat. “i said you understand all that?”

“yeah , yeah i do.” he said. jaemin knew he didn't , but he'd explain later. “we filming on wednesday, it will only take one day , but it's a all day shoot is that fine?” you nodded. “of course.” you said. “that works for me.”

“good , now i'll give you both some time to get to know each other.” he stood up. “i’ll get you both some food as well.” he walked away. “thank you.” you called out, it fully hit you that you were left alone with jeno again , he smirked watching you shy away once again. “i guess this is the real you.”

“h-huh?” you asked , he sat up; putting his elbows on the table, watching you. “the bows really do change how one would look at you.” your hand came to your head. “no , keep them in , don't take them out.” your hands immediately went to your lap. “cute.”

“me-me?” you gulped. “is anyone else sitting there love?” your cheeks were flushed , to jeno it was like your already pink cheeks were now red. “here you guys go.” jaemin came back with two plates. “i ordered enough steak for you to share , and some pasta.” he said. “i’ll leave you two , jeno play nice , she's perfect for this and we don't need you scaring her off.”

“go ahead.” he said. “eat.” you picked up the fork nervously, picking up a slice of the meat. “now put to your mouth and eat it.” it felt like he was gonna eat you alive , you put the steak to your mouth , biting it. “good girl , i can already tell im gonna like you.”

“so tell me , why'd you want to do this?” jeno asked. “do-do what?” you asked. “do I need to spell it out baby , porn what made you want to do this?” he said. “most camgirls stick to that.” you sat the fork down , taking a sip of water. “well it's kinda stupid.” you said , he waved you off. “tell me.” he said. “well my friends told me i’d be good at it.” you said. “and you just listened to them?” he raised his eyebrows. “you must agree with them.”

“i guess.” you said. “i didn't really understand what they meant by that.” he sat back listening. “i do.” he really did , truth is jeno spent the night before watching your past streams , and fuck did you put on a performance. he had to force himself to put his phone down before he started shooting blanks , his hands and his cock covered in his cum as your moans played over and over on his phone. “well why do you do it?”

“me?” he asked , shrugging. “because i like to fuck.” he laughed, watching your eyes widen. “don't look so surprised baby it's really not that surprising,” he said. “i like to fuck and i like making money , why not do both?” jeno never wanted to be a pornstar , his main dream was to be a model , turns out it wasn't that easy — but it was easy to pick up a camera and film himself fucking. “b-but you're a model , you don't need to do this.”

“you're right i don't , but here we are.” he eyed you up and down , eyes shamelessly stopping at your bust. “just like you.” he said. “y-yeah.”

“you've watched a few of my videos haven't you?” he asked. “i watched yours.” you wanted to lie , but how could you when he was being so truthful. “a few.” you gulped. “so you know im not gonna go easy on you right?” the way he talked so confidently it sent shivers down your spine. “but im sure you can take it right?” your body hot. “i mean im bigger than what you've taken but im sure you can learn to take it right?”

“i can take it.” you said, quickly covering your mouth. “yeah? let's see on thursday.” he bit his lip. “give me your phone.” he said. “here.” you handed it to him. “you listen well , i fucking love that.” he typed down his number. “i don't give my number out to every actress.” he said, handing you your phone back , jaemin returning back to the table. “we have to go soon.”

“that's too bad , we were just getting to know each other.” reaching for your card. “relax , im paying.” jeno said. “i-i have money.” you said. “i'm sure you do , but i didn't ask.” he said. “yn do you need a uber?” jaemin asked, but you were too busy making googly eyes at jeno. “oh no , i-i live a few minutes away.” jaemin nodded. “well it was nice to meet you , why don't you head out first and we'll stay behind and settle this.” you smiled. “thank you.”

“just show up on wednesday as you are ready to film.” you nodded. “of course!” you smiled, about to walk away when jeno grabbed your hand. “your phone love.” you took it from his hands. “thank you.” and just like that , the boys watched you leave out. “you done making googly eyes?” jaemin said. “can i take you home so i can get to my date?” jeno rolled his eyes. “hey don't get upset with me, nothing stopped you from following behind her and getting a pre show of wednesday.”

wednesday came quick; you have a busy few days before — you wanted everything perfect , getting your hair done; waxing your eyebrows and other areas. you hadn't used the number jeno gave you , scared to use it , even though your friends encouraged you too. “you're about to have his cock inside you , this phone call would be nothing.”

still you didn't budge; it probably didn't even bother the boy, he could've easily called someone else.

the production had arranged for a car to pick you up from your place to take you to a location; you read the script on the way there , it was a simple script since it was your first project on this scale — something about neighbors. it really didn't matter to you, you were excited but nervous. “we're here miss.” it was an actual house; a nice one.

you got up to the car , thanking the driver. “okay.” you said to yourself. “let's do this.” you said, the door was open so you just walked in , people running around, cameras and lights everywhere. “you must be yn?” a woman came up to you. “hi?” you said. “you are?” she smiled. “im kim , I run the production company that films the videos jeno is in.” she said. “you do?”

“yes i do; is it a little weird because im a woman?” you shook your head. “no of course not!” you said she laughed. “we're all about comfortability, to make sure you and the actor are both comfortable.” she said. “jeno is already on set , he's normally never here early.” she said. “actually he's normally late.” she said. “but enough about him , let's get you to your dressing room.”

she guided you to your room, opening the door. “this is your first shoot so i wanted to make sure everything was perfect.” she held your back guiding you in. “we have a stylist that will help you , along with make up who will make you even more beautiful.” she was extremely nice. “thank you so much.” you said. “don't worry about it , just get relaxed and ready to film some scenes.” she said. “the stylist will be in here soon , make-up as well.”

she left you alone after that , you looked around the room , she laid out a display of snacks that made you smile — your phone ringing , you took it out of your pocket , furrowing your eyebrows at the unrecognizable number. “so your phone does work.” you recognized the room , whipping around. “je-jeno.”

he walked into the room. “it's been a busy week.” you said. “yeah?” you nodded. “you aren't wearing the bows today,” he said. “gonna tell the stylist to change that.” you nervously took a step back. “i like the bows , let's put them in the movie.” you nodded. “ok-okay.” he was close enough to smell his cologne. “relax , im not gonna bite.” he said. “at least not now.” you squeaked as he pressed against you. “later im not promising anything.”

“i could definitely take you right here right now.” he confessed. “give you a quick training on taking me before later.” he said, his body looming over you. “but i kinda want to wait until later.” he smirked , your knees almost buckling under you. “let's wait until later, yeah?” he said. “ye-yeah.” you sighed in relief when he stepped back , finally letting you breathe. “i’ll see you in a bit love.”

you didn't have time to process what just happened before the stylist and the makeup artist both shuffled in. “out jeno out we have to get her ready.” he was quickly pushed out. “gosh.” the stylist said. “he's never here this early all of sudden he's early.” the makeup artist turned to you. “well there's the reason right there, you are gorgeous.” you smiled. “th-thank you.”

“let's get you ready.”

the outfit wasn't much different from what you normally wear , just a lingerie version meaning it was much shorter; so short you could see your ass , poking from your panties — but it was still cute. “you look pretty.” the stylist said, picking up the bows. “per jenos request, hope you don't mind.” she placed the bow in your hair. “done.”

they left , kim returning soon after. “you ready.” you nodded. “let's go.” she guided you to the front where the scene would take place , the cameras ready. “yn , hey.” jaemin said. “oh hi.” you waved back. “you look nice , you ready?” you nodded. “i'm a little nervous , this is much different than my room.”

“don't worry about it; it's your first big production.” he said. “just do your best.” he reassured you. “jeno is done with make-up so we should be starting — five minutes!” someone shouted , you giggled. “in five minutes.” he said. “good luck.”

“the scene starts with you in the kitchen.” the producer guided you to the kitchen , leaving you alone. you leaned over the counter , scrolling through your phone while you waited. “you look too good right now.” jeno caged you in between his arms. “th-thank you , you smell nice.” it just slipped out your mouth. “oh , i-i di-didn’t — you smell nice too.” he said , your cheeks were already red enough. “makes me want to eat you up right here.” he didn't know how much he really was effecting you , anymore of what he would be doing and you'd be begging him to fuck you right there. “okay actors , get in position!”

“good luck princess.” he walked away, leaving you to pull yourself together and get ready for the scene. “are they actors ready?” everyone got into position. “okay, rolling in 5…4…3…2…1 , start !”

the scene went exceptionally well; it was build up scene that leads up to the actual sex scene — but even those scenes were hot and heavy; at least jeno made it like that. it took a few hours to film , making sure to get every angle. “okay great, the next scene jeno you what to do.”

jeno didn't know if he had it in him; the resistance as the camera guy yelled for the scene to start again — the strength to hold himself together once he got his lips on you; he was a professional, but with you it felt like his very first scene.

“you can do what you want.” you spoke up , back into character , you were a natural — almost like you were talking to him outside of character. “what did you say?” he said , damn near forgetting his line. you looked down at your fingers. “to me , you can do what you want to me.”

there was the girl from the streams; it flicked just like that; your other persona , the one from the restaurant that told him you could take it — and he was about to put it to the test. “i can?” his big hand wrapping around your neck. “you don't know me that well but you'd let me do what i want to you?”

that was basically your current situation with the man; yeah you had only met him four days ago, but you'd let him do whatever he wanted , on and off camera. “y-yes.”

“that's real whore like of you.” his hand squeezed your throat. “real whore like.” he said, slamming his lips against yours. unfortunately the scene took place on a couch so he didn't have much room to work with , but it didn't mean anything to him — besides he'll just fuck you into your mattress on another day.

the kiss was rough; his hand squeezing your throat as he pushed his tongue into your mouth. “fuck.” he cursed, pulling away. “get on your knees.” he pushed you down , the camera close to your face as he unbuckled his pants. “gonna fuck your face.” he pulled his cock out , it was definitely bigger than the dildos you were use to. “hey.” he slapped your face. “come on, be a good whore and suck my cock.”

he grabbed the base of his cock , slapping it on your cheek. “open slut.” he shoved his length inside your mouth , and much like your previous streams , you took him into your throat without gagging. “yeah , fuck swallowing my fucking cock like that.” he groaned , holding the back of your head moving you up and down on his thick length , also moving his hips. “cock sucking slut , how many cocks has this throat taken?”

he was using your mouth; the cameras all there filming it turned you on even more , the many people watching in the room as he fucked your face made you hornier. “yeah fuck!” he had to force himself out of you so he wouldn't cum fast. “get up.” he pulled you up , throwing you to the couch. “ass up, now slut.”

he pulled the dress up , revealing the matching color set they put you in. “dumb slut is wet from sucking cock.” he slapped your ass , you moaned , he pulled your panties down , your folds covered in your slick. “messy pussy , gonna stuff you full of my cock.” he maneuvered your body on the small couch. “arch your back.”

he pushed your head down on the couch seat. “gonna make you take it all at once.” your whimpering turned into screams as he abruptly shoved his entire length into your pussy. “hell you're fucking tight.” he groaned , pulling out slamming back inside. “fuck!” he began to fuck into you , holding the back of your neck. “such a whore.”

his thrust were brutal and unrelentless; the camera catching everything — his cock stretching you out more than you've ever been, the squelching sounds from your cunt it was embarrassing, having people hear that ; but the embarrassment soon was forgotten as he went deeper. “my fuck -oh my- oh my fucking god.”

he let out a lust filled chuckle. “so stupid baby.” he slapped your ass. “my cock really made your brain turn to mush.” he abruptly pulled out of you , slapping your ass , your legs shook. “turn around.” he flipped you on your back.

you looked up at him with teary wide eyes. but he could see the lust in them. “that innocent look doesn't work on me.” he slapped your cunt. “i can see through whores like you.” he lined his cock up with your hole. “innocent looking but ready to take any cock they can get.”

this new angle had you reaching for anything , jenos arm; the couch cushion — his cock had you grabbing at the air. he pulled down the front of the lingerie , your tits now bouncing along with his thrust. the rumors proving to be true as you felt your orgasm approaching. “you're clenching around me , fuck your pussy is suffocating my cock.” he growled. “fuck im gonna cum!” you screamed out. “cum slut , wet my cock with your cum.”

he had your legs open wide , holding your shaking thighs. “cum.” your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you came, soaking his stomach and the seat below you. a high pitched moan coming from your mouth as he kept going. “fuck keep cumming on my cock.” he slapped your poor clit rubbing rubbing it. “yeah im gonna - fuck - im gonna cum.” he groaned. “fuck im gonna cum all over your face.”

he pulled out of your twitching hole , standing over your face , stroking his cock. the camera was up close again as he came — and he came a lot. he groaned, throwing his head back as he covered you in his seed. “fuck.”

you laid out on the couch , his thumb still rubbing at your clit as your reached your final orgasm , your thighs shaking uncontrollably. “cut!”

jeno almost forgot about the camera; ready to bring you to another orgasm. “je-jeno.” your shaking voice pulled him from his horny state. “shit im sorry.” he pulled away , desperately wanting to taste you. “almost made you squirt again.” he smirked. “now how would we explain that? because the camera is off.”

“get her a cover.” he shouted , someone running over to you both , he covered your body. “jeno.” they handed him a robe. “you did so good.” the staff handing you fluids. “felt like watching a couple have sex , you're a natural girl.” you nodded with a smile. “are you a natural princess?” jeno spoke up once they were gone. “or is it because those screams were real?”

you lowered your head , shying away from his gaze. “don't hide from me now , i know your real persona , and these cameras maybe done rolling, but i'm not done with you yet.” he whispered , just as you were pulled from your seat by a staff member and whisked back to your room. “you ready to go?” jaemin came over. “no need to drive me home tonight,” he said. “why not?” asked Jaemin.

“because im not going home tonight.”

©️LUVYENI

#kpop x reader #kpop smut #nct fanfic #nct x female reader #nct x reader #nct dream smut #nct dream hard thoughts #nct dream hard hours #nct dream x female reader #nct dream x reader #lee jeno fanfic #lee jeno x reader #lee jeno smut #jeno x reader #jeno smut #jeno fic #jeno hard thoughts #jeno hard hours

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heartavenue · 1 month ago

Text

ㅤㅤㅤ . ˚ Very Niche Things That I Scripted Into My Better Cr ₊ ꒱

Oreo’s with just the cookie

Sprite Lymonade

Dr Pepper Vanila Floats EVERYWHERE

People loved ariana grande’s positions more & the content that was scrapped makes it this go round

Beyonce won aoty for lemonade

Ariana Grande wins aoty for tun

Ptv wins a grammy for selfish machines

Moreso rock/metal gets more love as a genre

Very niche and very specific but a bridgerton season maybe eloise’s first make her gay…and second I need a regency era butchfemme/studfemme romance PLEASE

THANKS A LOTS ARE BACK

More...sapphic...media! Specifically more DIVERSE sapphics I am TIRED of the white girls

More music based shows in america (MTV is BACK) think about sbs inkaigyo, m countdown in korea

Alabama isn’t known as the cotton state…how the hell is my black ass gonna rep COTTON

Alabama isn't known for INCEST

Hayley didn’t get pregnant with twins with dylan in modern family

The last season of b99 is…better.

Mbav didn’t get canceled

Shameless doesn’t fall off

Bisexual Fiona

Everyone ALWAYS follows the theme at the met gala

Arcane didn’t end like that…also ekko is a stud!

Moreso a sevika brothel scene

Red Robin is in my town, In n out, Jack in the box, and Baskin Robins.

Beyonce dropping donk

Ariana dropping fantasize, ridiculous, he had it comin, jada

Coryxkenshin finally playing kindergarten 2

People liked Beyonce’s cowboy carter AND understood the significance of it

I can spell necessary and sandwich on my first try

B99 x modern family episode

Iwtv got way more acknowledgment and SWEPT during awards season

We find out who tf took that book at the end of fear street 1666

Rkelly didn’t produce outrageous by britney spears

Or write Aaliyah's debut album

Joanna Ceddia is back on youtube

Less shortform content

The Until Dawn and FNAF movies followed the game lore

Wicked beat out Emilia Perez during award season

People don't use the word "tits"

the term "bigback" never existed

The "oh oh oh oh" version of no tears left to cry is the original ver

Pharrell and JT work together on another album (this is so niche but I love justified and I need another album like it STAT)

Birria tacos come in five

British people don't say "wank, shag, fap"

They aren't called wifebeaters

In inside out 2 Riley is gay and valentina/valentine(? I forget her name) was her gay awakening

Rainbows actually have a pot of gold at the end them

Ariana grande singing my hair Jessica rabbit style (courtesy of anon)

There is no such thing as the dark web

Still into you wins a Grammy

Gelphie lezzes out in both wicked films!

Dr pepper bar

Justin Timberlake trifling ass never did that to Janet

There are merch stations inside movie theaters

The library of Alexandria never burned down

The female anatomy was not named after men...

There is a perfume based on the potion in arianas tbim mv

Abbott elementary has a full 3rd season

Adults didn't have an 8 episode but a 22 episode season

Coryxkenshin doesn't leave for long periods of time.

Death to streaming culture and Zeus network

I can find Americone dream more easily (why is this the only flavor that I can't find...)

The rise of boygroups I yearn for another nsync

King Charles chopped ass never did that princess Diana. I am ready to go to war over my girl don't play with me.

Moreso Meghan Markle never received any hate.

A girl group full of sapphics that make music about girls, I'm so sick and tired of ggs only talking about niggas WE GET IT (flo is excluded I love them down.)

Ronald Regan bitch ass never become president.

Glinda is canoncially a lesbian (idk if she is here but she's going to be there idc)

#things to script?#this is really silly #reality shifting #desired reality #shiftblr #shifting realities

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theballadofharkness · 2 months ago

Text

She’s with the Director

Masterlist

Pairing: Maya Mason x fem!reader

Summary: When Hollywood’s strangest new director begins quietly shopping her next script, Matt Remnick loses his mind trying to find her. Mysterious, brilliant, and barely reachable, she’s the kind of director that could give him his Rosemary’s Baby… if he can track her down.

Maya Mason isn’t worried.

Because the strangest woman in Hollywood that the studio is chasing? She already has her.

Word Count: 9K

Warnings: explicit smut, strap-on use, MDNI

A/N: This is just a quick little Maya fic I wrote while catching up on The Studio finally, I definitely want to write more Maya so any suggestions would be great xo

Matt Remick bursts into the conference room like he’s just come from war… or worse, a breakfast meeting with Griffin.

He’s got that look. Wide eyes, rumpled blazer, the smell of overpriced oat milk clinging to him like defeat. But he’s grinning like he just found the last golden ticket in Hollywood. “Big news,” he says. “Huge news.”

The team’s already waiting, Sal is sprawled in his usual seat with a breakfast burrito and a hangover, Quinn tapping away on her tablet with one AirPod in, and Patty Leigh sipping tea like she’s three seconds away from biting someone.

Sal doesn’t look up from his phone. “You always say that and it’s never huge man.”

“No,” Matt says, too pumped to be insulted. “No, this is real.”

Patty sighs and sets her tea down with careful grace. “What is it Matthew? You look like you’re about to wet yourself.”

Matt drops his phone on the table, screen facing up. It’s paused on a still from Wolves at the Well, that shot, the one with the lake and the antlers and the girl screaming underwater. Instantly recognizable. Instantly iconic.

“She’s looking for a studio,” Matt announces, reverent. “She’s looking for a studio.”

Quinn looks up. “Who is?”

Matt lets the silence drag just long enough to be dramatic. “Y/N Y/L/N.”

A pause.

Quinn straightens. “Wait. Seriously?”

Patty’s brows raise, skeptical but intrigued. “She’s leaving her indie? I thought she was some kind of cursed forest nymph who only works with companies run out of moss-covered cabins.”

Matt is glowing now. “Nope. Word is she’s looking for a studio. Not an indie label, not some moody investor with a fetish for Icelandic grief dramas. A studio. She wants scale. Reach. And after Wolves exploded? She’s got leverage. She wants to tell bigger stories and still keep control. We can offer that.”

Patty leans back, calculating. “How sure are you?”

“I’ve got three sources,” Matt says. “And her agent’s being cagey, which means it’s real.”

Quinn stares at him. “She’s the biggest thing in film right now. Her movie’s still breaking streaming records. If she’s even considering going big…”

“She is,” Matt says. “And I want her here.”

Silence.

Patty lifts a brow. “You really think she’s going to give up witchy obscurity for a studio boardroom?”

Matt grins. “Not for any studio. But this one? If we pitch it right? We can blow A24 out of the fucking water.”

Patty leans back, amused. “And who, pray tell, is going to convince her?”

Sal whistles low. “Okay, I’ll bite. What’s the plan?”

Matt points around the room like he’s handing out weapons in a war room.

“Quinn- I want everything. Press, panels, podcast interviews. Get inside her head. I want to know what she wants before she does.”

“On it.”

“Sal- find out who else is sniffing around. What they’re offering, who she’s talking to. No one moves without us knowing about it.”

Sal nods, already typing on his phone.

Matt turns to Patty. “You’re producing the pitch. She’s not a ‘take her to lunch and flatter her’ type. She’ll want vision. Integrity. Respect. Sell her on what we aren’t.”

Patty gives a slow, dangerous smile. “I do love a challenge.”

Then Matt turns to Maya.

And the energy shifts.

She hasn’t spoken. Head to toe in Louis Vuitton streetwear, tight ponytail, three rings on each finger, legs crossed like she’s not even paying attention. But her jaw tightens at the sound of your name.

She’s already read your new script. She read it in bed while you lay next to her, legs tangled with hers, chewing the end of a pencil and asking if she thought the ending was too kind. She didn’t answer. She kissed you instead.

“You marketed Wolves at the Well,” Matt says. “She loved that campaign. She said it was the only time her work didn’t feel… diluted.”

Maya says nothing.

“She trusted you,” Matt continues. “You get her tone. You get her weird, terrifying mind. If anyone can figure out how to bring her in, it’s you.”

Maya exhales slowly. “She doesn’t do meetings. She doesn’t do people.”

Matt shrugs. “Then don’t make it feel like a meeting. Make it feel like whatever the hell she needs it to be. We just need her to talk to us.”

Maya tilts her head. “You want a horror film with a ten-minute silent sequence where a woman stares into a mirror and rips her teeth out one by one, and you think I’m the key to selling it?”

Matt grins. “Exactly. And I think you’ve still got a line to her.”

Her eyes narrow. “What makes you think that?”

Matt shrugs. “Because if I were her, and I trusted anyone in this hellhole, it’d be you.”

A beat.

Maya leans back in her chair, her expression unreadable.

“I’ll see what I can do,” she says.

The boardroom becomes a war room.

Matt’s pacing again, sleeves rolled up like that helps him think. He’s surrounded by stacks of folders, half-eaten pastries, open laptops, and a terrifying number of Post-it notes.

“We can’t find her,” he says, hands in his hair. “I mean, what the fuck, we cannot find her. Where does she go when she disappears between projects?” he demands. “Nobody just vanishes anymore.”

“She does,” Quinn says, flicking through a spreadsheet. “She doesn’t have a personal Instagram, hasn’t been seen at a public event in eight months, and there’s literally one known address on file, some cabin in Northern California that may or may not exist.”

“She’s not completely off the grid,” Sal argues, waving his phone. “She liked a tweet two weeks ago.”

Matt spins on him. “What tweet?”

“It was about practical effects in horror. But the tweet got deleted, so…”

“So she’s alive, but elusive.” Matt pinches the bridge of his nose. “Great.”

Sal doesn’t even look up from his screen. “No publicist, no assistant, no active socials. Her website is literally a black screen with a Latin quote and a candle that burns out if you hover over it too long.”

“That’s performance art, not contact information!” Matt snaps.

Patty sips her tea. “She’s a ghost with awards.”

Matt slams a file down. “I promised Griffin we were talking to her this week. I called her the next big thing. The anti-Marvel. The future of smart cinema. He said, and I quote, ‘We need her in the building before A24 eats our souls and pisses out another Oscar.’”

Patty doesn’t blink. “And you told him you had this in the bag didn’t you?”

“I panicked!” Matt throws his arms up. “And now we’re screwed.”

He turns, wild-eyed, to Maya, who’s lounging in her chair with one knee up, chewing on the end of a pen and looking like this is the most fun she’s had in months.

“You marketed her last movie,” Matt clings to the one link he has to you. “You got her. You understood her. You got into her head. If anyone knows where she might be, it's you.”

Maya stretches slowly, deliberately, and shrugs. “Maybe she’s just… busy. Maybe she doesn’t want to be found.”

Quinn blinks. “Isn’t she developing something?”

“She’s always developing something,” Sal mutters. “The question is where. And with who.”

Matt’s pacing again. “We’re talking about the woman who made a horror movie about intergenerational trauma and demonic taxidermy and made it a hit. She’s brilliant. She’s unstable. She’s perfect. And she’s missing.”

Patty tilts her head. “She’s not missing. She’s choosing not to be seen.”

Matt points at her like she just unlocked the final puzzle piece. “YES. Exactly. She’s choosing. And we need to give her a reason to choose us. We need bait. Blood in the water. Something that says, ‘We get it. We’re not like the others. We won’t sand down your edges.’”

Sal sighs. “You’ve got a weird artsy cinephile boner for this woman haven’t you?”

Quinn looks toward Maya. “Seriously though… no leads at all?”

Maya shrugs again, slower this time. “Maybe I didn’t leave the door open far enough.”

Matt groans, dragging a hand down his face. “Oh my god. We are so fucked.”

Maya just smiles. Calm. Knowing. Not offering anything. Not rushing. Not helping. Not yet.

Hours pass.

The conference room gets darker as the sun goes down, but no one bothers with the lights. The glow from laptops and phones and half-dead chargers is enough. A shrine to failure, if you asked Maya, which, blessedly, no one does.

Quinn ks scrolling with the intensity of someone hacking into the Pentagon. “Okay, I found a podcast she did anonymously five years ago under a fake name. I think it’s her because she mentions a childhood fear of mirrors and references a book no one else ever talks about-”

Matt cuts her off. “Is there an email?”

“No,” Quinn says, without missing a beat.

Sal’s got three tabs open: Reddit, IMDbPro, and a very messy spreadsheet titled WITCH LEADS. “Someone swears they saw her in Prague. Someone else thinks she’s living in a commune in upstate New York.”

Matt looks physically ill. “I told Griffin we had momentum.”

Patty snorts from where she’s taken up residence at the head of the table, reading over a dog-eared draft of one of your old scripts. “She is actively avoiding being found. This is artful silence. Intentional disappearance. She’s not playing hard to get. She’s playing divine to be untouched.”

“She has to want something,” Matt insists, like he’s trying to manifest you. “People don’t vanish unless they want to be chased.”

“Or left alone,” Quinn offers gently.

Matt groans and flops into a chair. “Why does she have to be like this?”

Maya, still perched like a cat on the edge of her chair, flips her pen between her fingers. “Because if she wasn’t like this, you wouldn’t want her half as much.”

The room stills for a beat.

Matt narrows his eyes. “You’re enjoying this.”

Maya lifts a brow. “A little.”

“You know something,” he says, sitting up straighter. “You’re being weirdly calm.”

“I’m always calm,” she lies.

Quinn glances over. “Seriously, Maya, no old contacts? No secret email? No unlisted number?”

Maya yawns. “If I did, don’t you think I’d have used it by now?”

Patty side-eyes her. “Would you?”

Maya doesn’t answer. Because the truth is: she hasn’t even tried. Not really. She could send one message. Just one. And you’d answer. But where’s the fun in that?

Three long, caffeine-stained, sleep-deprived days since Matt declared, loud and confident, that you were in play.

You were not in play. You’re hovering above like a spectral deity, ignoring every pitch deck and soft outreach like none of it matters, which, to you, it probably doesn’t.

Griffin is starting to hover. “Any updates?” has turned into “When will I see something?” and now it’s morphing into That Tone—that sharp, glossy warning that means the countdown has started.

Matt is in executive hell.

So he does the only thing he can do to cope: gets drunk and high with Sal and spirals through someone else’s movie.

Before the film, though, they hit up a spot Sal swears will “cure all emotional disease”, a high-end Italian place in West Hollywood that’s all mood lighting, rich velvet, and wine lists the size of novellas.

They meet at a high-end Italian place with dark velvet booths, moody jazz, and wine lists thicker than a studio script rewrite.

“I can’t believe she’s ghosting us,” Matt says, sinking into the booth. “Us, Sal. She makes one demonic deer movie and suddenly we’re not worthy of her divine witch vibes?”

Sal takes a sip of red wine and shrugs. “You knew what you were getting into. This is why I date Pilates instructors.”

Matt ignores him. “You know what the worst part is? It’s not even rejection. It’s- it’s nothing. She hasn’t even acknowledged we exist. It’s like trying to cast a fucking spell and getting static.”

Sal leans back. “You’re mixing your metaphors, man. You need carbs. Or a Xanax.”

Matt raises his glass. “Or both.”

Matt waves for a martini like it’s a sedative. “She’s out there somewhere. I know it. And we’re gonna lose her. I can feel it.”

Sal shrugs, flipping open the menu. “Then let her go. Find another terrifying gay auteur.”

Matt glares. “She’s the terrifying auteur. There is no one else.”

But before Sal can mock him further, something shifts in the room.

Matt glances up and freezes. There, in a deep velvet booth lit by a golden sconce, sits Maya Mason.

All sharp cheekbones and matte lipstick, black Gucci suit jacket slung over her shoulders, wine glass in hand. Her posture says I’m relaxed, but her eyes are calculating, ever so slightly narrowed.

Matt freezes. Elbows Sal.

Sal glances over and lets out a low whistle. “Damn. Didn’t peg her for this level of bougie.”

Matt perks up. “Oh my god. Maya’s here. Should we go over?”

Matt starts to stand.

And then… you appear.

A soft, sudden presence moving through the space like perfume flitting over from the bar like a dream or a hallucination or some kind of punishment designed specifically for Matt’s crumbling sanity. You’re wrapped in silk and leather, a drink in one hand, your expression easy and unhurried.

You’re glowing under the amber light, glass in hand, lips glossed. You walk toward the booth without a second of hesitation. You slide in beside Maya, lean in, and press a kiss to her cheek. She murmurs something, barely audible, but her arm wraps around your waist. You settle into her side like it’s yours. Like it’s always been yours.

Matt’s mouth falls open. He grabs Sal’s arm, white-knuckled. “Is that…?”

“That’s her,” Sal breathes. “That’s her.”

“She’s been in the city this whole time?”

“In Maya’s lap.”

Matt blinks rapidly. “She’s the mystery of the industry. The director no one can contact. She communicates in riddles and metaphors and one-word emails and now she’s just… she’s just- here?!”

They both duck slightly behind the wine rack like two deeply uncool spies.

“Do we go over there?” Sal whispers.

“I can’t,” Matt hisses. “I’m wearing H&M.”

He peeks again. You’re laughing now, soft and warm, gently nudging Maya’s shoulder as you sip something golden from a heavy crystal glass. Maya says something and tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. You smile up at her like she built the sky.

Matt slumps back down, clutching his drink. “We’re dead. Griffin’s going to turn me into a chair.”

Sal mutters, “Holy shit.”

Maya glances up and sees them. Her smile drops a millimeter. Her eyes narrow. Fucking hell. She takes a long, slow sip of her drink. Not because she’s thirsty, but because she needs a second to breathe through the coming wave of Matt’s voice, emails, frantic walk-and-talks, and existential screeds about visionary cinema.

You tilt your head. “Are you okay?”

Maya smiles at you, soft but thin. “Yeah. Just spotted something annoying.”

You turn, casually following her gaze, eyes landing on the two stunned men standing by the maître d’.

You clock them instantly.

Maya exhales, like this is exactly the kind of nonsense she’d been trying to avoid. She rubs your thigh under the table, gently, grounding.

“Listen…” she mutters. “Continental studio… Matt and Sal over there, they want to make your next movie.”

You blink again, surprised but not rattled. “They do?”

“They’re fucking gagging for it.”

You tilt your head, amused. “Is that why they look like they’re about to pass out?”

“Yup.”

You giggle softly and kiss her cheek. “How flattering.”

Maya sighs, resigned. “So much for a quiet night.” She holds Matt’s gaze for a beat. Then lifts her glass.

A quiet, unreadable toast.

Across the restaurant, Matt stares into the middle distance like he’s experiencing ego death. “I’m going to throw up,” Matt mutters.

Sal raises his wine. “To lesbian espionage.”

You’re halfway through dessert, some ridiculous tower of hazelnut praline and dark chocolate that Maya ordered “because you deserve nice things”, when the shadows shift beside your table.

You glance up.

Matt Remick is standing there, eyes wide, smile tight, like he’s just come face to face with a god and doesn’t know if he should bow or cry.

Sal’s with him. Two steps behind. A little too much wine, a little too confident.

“We’ve been trying to reach you!” Matt says, breathless.

Maya groans under her breath.

You blink. “Clearly.”

Matt laughs nervously, motioning at the booth. “Can we- uh- join you? Just for a minute. We don’t want to interrupt. Well, we are interrupting. But we don’t want to.”

You glance at Maya. She doesn’t say anything, just leans back, arms crossed, watching with the calm of a lion in tall grass.

You nod and gesture to the other side of the table. “Go on then.”

They slide in like two college freshmen sitting down with the headmistress.

Matt clears his throat. “First of all, let me just say… we’re huge fans. Everyone at the studio is. Your work is… it’s revolutionary.”

You give a polite, noncommittal nod. Maya sips her drink, unmoved.

Then Sal leans in, far too casually. “Didn’t know you were a lesbian!” he says, grinning. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that- I mean, honestly it’s my most searched porn tab.”

Matt physically recoils.

You blink. Once. Slowly.

Maya does not react. At all. Just shifts, placing her hand casually on your thigh under the table.

Sal keeps going, like a man joyfully flinging himself off a cliff. “No, seriously. I mean, it’s hot, right? You two together. Power couple. You got that dark academia meets streetwear vibe. Like if The Craft had a PR department.”

You raise an eyebrow, tilting your head ever so slightly. “This,” you say flatly, “is who wants to make my movie?”

Matt slaps Sal’s shoulder hard enough to shake the table. “Ignore him. He’s… he’s not usually like this.”

Maya leans in then, finally. “Oh, no,” she says, voice syrupy with sarcasm. “He’s exactly like this.”

Matt’s smile stretches thinner. “We just wanted to let you know- if you’re developing something new, we would love to talk. No pressure, obviously, but our door is wide open.”

You study him for a moment, sipping your drink. You don’t answer right away. You just… let the silence grow. It stretches long enough that Matt starts to visibly sweat.

Then finally, you look at Maya. “I thought they were gonna be taller,” you say.

Maya snorts into her glass.

Maya’s been smirking the whole ride back. She kicked her heels off in the car, feet in your lap, your fingers tracing slow circles against her ankle while she casually recounted every second of Matt and Sal’s implosion over dinner like it was the highlight of her year.

“‘Didn’t know you were a lesbian!��” she says, mimicking Sal with a cartoonishly terrible voice. “‘It’s my most searched porn tab!’ Babe. Babe. I almost choked on my fuckin wine.”

You laugh softly, leaning your head against the leather seat. “You loved it.”

“Oh, I loved watching you scare the shit out of them. I could feel Matt’s soul trying to exit through his eyeballs.”

You hum, smiling to yourself. “He really looked like he was meeting the cryptid he’s been chasing for years.”

Maya grins, sharp and smug. “And she was just sitting in my lap the whole time.”

Later, at home, you’re curled up in bed together. Maya’s shirt is unbuttoned, her skin warm against yours, one arm thrown over you like she’s never letting go. The lights are low. The city hums far below the windows.

She’s scrolling idly on her phone, probably reading headlines about someone else’s PR failure, when you shift closer, pressing your cheek to her collarbone.

“Maya?”

She hums in response, not looking away.

You trace your finger along the inside of her wrist, gentle. “Want me to pick your studio?”

That gets her attention. She lowers the phone and looks down at you.

Your eyes are soft, wide, full of something quiet and real. “Give you complete control over the marketing?” you ask, voice like silk. “Let you run the campaign. Do it your way. No committee. Just you.”

Maya stares at you for a moment. “You’d do that for me, baby?”

You nod, nuzzling into her like it’s the easiest thing in the world. “Of course I would.”

She exhales, long and slow, like she wasn’t expecting that to hit her so hard.

“Fuck,” she mutters, more to herself than to you. “I really got you, huh?”

You nod again, smiling, utterly gone for her.

She kisses your forehead, her lips lingering. Then she pulls back just enough to look down at you with a slow grin. “Yeah?” she murmurs. “Alright, baby girl. I’ll set up the meeting.”

You smile, nodding, and then lean in again, just a little, just enough to brush your lips along her collarbone.

She freezes for a second.

You press another kiss, soft and slow, just below her throat.

“Baby,” she says, voice a warning, a whisper.

You don’t answer. You just kiss higher, up the slope of her neck, the angle of her jaw, your breath warm against her pulse. You feel the way her arm tightens around you, like she’s trying to stay cool, trying not to let on that she’s already halfway gone.

Then she turns her head, catches your mouth with hers. It starts soft, slow and indulgent, her fingers slipping into your hair as your lips move against hers in lazy, exploring rhythm. You tilt into her, pressing yourself closer, one hand slipping under the open edge of her shirt to rest against her stomach.

Maya deepens the kiss like she’s claiming it, her hand sliding down your back, pulling you more fully into her lap.

She breaks away just long enough to breathe, forehead pressed to yours. “You get like this when you make big promises?” she murmurs, smiling against your mouth.

You smile back, lips brushing hers. “Only for you.”

She kisses you again, hungrier now. Less patient. You’re still curled into her lap, fingers splayed across the bare skin of her stomach under her unbuttoned shirt, your lips brushing slow, reverent kisses up her throat like you’re praying to her body with your mouth.

She lets you.

Lets you worship her like this, patient and slow, kisses trailing higher, deeper, lips barely parting, breath warm against the spot just below her jaw that always makes her shudder. And when she does, when her fingers tighten in your hair just a little, you smile against her skin.

“Fuckin’ brat,” she mutters, voice thick, but she’s already tilting her head to give you more.

You kiss her jaw. Her cheek. The corner of her mouth.

Then you pull back just enough to whisper, soft and saccharine, “Want you.”

Her hand slides down to your throat, not rough, just there. Just holding. “Yeah?” she murmurs, thumb brushing under your chin, tipping your face up to meet hers.

You nod, lips parted, eyes wide and open in that way that always makes her lose her fucking mind.

“Want me to take care of you, babygirl?”

“Please.”

She kisses you hard this time, no patience, no softness. Just heat and teeth and tongue. Her grip on your throat tightens a little as she pushes you back into the pillows, climbing over you, her knee parting your thighs with practiced ease.

“You offering me your film and this sweet little body in the same night?” she growls, voice low and dangerous, mouth dragging down your neck now. “You trying to kill me, baby?”

You gasp as her teeth catch your collarbone. That makes her laugh, deep and warm, before her mouth returns to your skin.

“You’re mine,” she whispers, hot against your chest. “Mine to kiss, mine to fuck, mine to show off when the studio begs for your name and you’re sitting in my lap.”

Your fingers dig into her back, hips rising to meet her. “Yes, Maya…”

“You gonna be good for me?”

“Yes/ yes, I’ll be so good… ”

“You are good,” she purrs, trailing her hand down between your thighs, fingers slipping under your panties like you were made for her. “Always so fuckin’ good for me.”

And when her fingers finally slide into you, slow and deep, you cry out for her, high and sweet and already undone, and Maya grins like she just won. Because she did.

Her fingers are already inside you, deep and slow, dragging along that perfect spot that makes your thighs tremble and your breath catch in your throat. Maya’s body is draped over yours, shirt half-off, hair falling over her face as she watches you like she’s memorizing the way you fall apart.

“You’re so fuckin’ wet for me,” she murmurs, lips brushing your jaw. “So sweet, baby. Can’t believe this perfect little thing belongs to me.”

Your hips rock up to meet her hand, helpless and greedy. “Maya…”

She curls her fingers just right and you gasp, eyes fluttering closed, head tipping back against the pillows. “Uh-uh,” she says, voice sharp, dominant. Her free hand comes up to cradle your jaw, forcing you to look at her. “Eyes on me.”

You do. Because how could you not?

Her smirk softens at the edges. “Look at you,” she whispers. “So powerful out there. Untouchable. And now you’re under me, legs shaking, begging to come.”

You nod, desperate. “Please- please, Maya…”

“I know, baby,” she coos. “I’ve got you.”

She fucks you with deliberate, punishing strokes that make your back arch, your nails claw at the sheets, your voice turn to broken little moans that only she gets to hear.

“Who makes you feel this good?” she demands, her mouth at your ear now, her pace unrelenting.

“You do,” you gasp. “You do, Maya!”

“That’s right.”

She doesn’t let up. Her thumb finds your clit, circling in slow, sinful rhythm as her fingers thrust deeper. You’re close. So close. And she knows it. She feels it.

“Come for me,” she commands, voice low and dangerous. “Now.”

And when you do, it crashes over you like fire, white-hot and consuming, your whole body shaking as you sob her name. She holds you through it, fingers still moving as you writhe beneath her, overstimulated and soaked.

You’re gasping, lips parted, body trembling and she still doesn’t stop.

“Again,” she says, quieter now. “I want one more.”

“M-Maya…” You’re already wrecked, legs weak, tears in your lashes.

But her hand doesn’t leave you. Her mouth kisses your throat, your cheek, your lips. Her eyes stay on yours.

“You said I had control, didn’t you?” she whispers.

You nod, crying out as she thrusts again. “Yes- yes- fuck- yes!”

“Good girl.”

You’re shaking.

Your chest is heaving, thighs soaked, voice cracked open into raw little gasps. And Maya still hasn’t let up. She hasn’t stopped touching you, hasn’t moved from where she’s curled against your body, fingers still inside you, lips still on your neck.

“Fuck, baby,” she murmurs, voice low and wrecked with praise. “You’re so good for me. So perfect like this.”

You can’t speak. Your throat is raw from moaning, your body so sensitive that even the smallest movement makes your hips twitch. But Maya isn’t finished. She licks into your mouth when you try to cry out again, muffling your moans with her kiss, letting your broken little sounds melt into her tongue as she keeps her rhythm steady.

“Come on, babygirl,” she says, voice molten. “One more for me. Just one more. You can do it. I’ve got you,” she purrs. “You’re gonna come for me again, aren’t you?”

You nod, tears spilling over as your eyes squeeze shut.

“That’s my girl,” she says, kissing the corner of your mouth. “Fucking take it.”

Your climax hits harder this time, like lightning, like something primal cracking loose inside you. You sob her name, the sound helpless, wrecked, as your body arches into hers and the pleasure rips through you like fire.

Maya doesn’t stop. Not until you’re trembling, gasping, pleading for her mouth instead of her fingers. She finally slows, eases her hand out, kisses your cheeks, your wet lashes, your trembling lips.

“Shhh,” she whispers, wrapping herself around you. “I’ve got you, baby. You did so good for me. So fucking good.”

You collapse into her, boneless and broken and safe. She pulls you close, her hands now stroking soft and slow down your back, murmuring against your hair, “I’ve got you. I’m here. I love you.”

The room is still hazy with the aftermath, your body soft, spent, sprawled across Maya’s chest as she strokes your hair with slow, possessive fingers.

You’re trembling in that delicious, floating way. Your skin feels fever-warm, your lips swollen from her kisses, your thighs aching from being held open so long. Every inch of you is humming, fucked out and fully hers.

And Maya?

Maya looks like a goddess. Lipstick smudged, eyes heavy-lidded and gleaming with satisfaction.

She presses a kiss to your hairline.

You breathe out her name like a prayer. “Maya…”

She hums, low and amused, fingers still stroking your spine. “That was sweet, baby. You took it so well.”

You nod, nuzzling closer. “Wanted to be good for you.”

“I know,” she murmurs, lips brushing your ear. “You were. You always are.”

There’s a pause. Then her fingers tighten a little in your hair, not enough to hurt, just enough to hold. “But I think someone forgot her manners.”

Your breath catches. Your thighs instinctively press together.

“You gonna thank me properly?” she purrs, tilting your chin up to meet her eyes. “Or you gonna make me ask again?”

You whimper. “Want to. Want to thank you.”

She smiles, slow and dangerous, and shifts onto her back, guiding you between her thighs with the smooth confidence of someone who already knows what you’ll do. Who owns what you’ll do.

“Show me, then,” she says, voice all velvet and command. “Show me how grateful you are.”

You settle between her legs, kissing her thighs reverently, softly at first, until she threads her fingers through your hair and tugs you where she wants you.

She’s soaked for you. Already aching. And when your tongue finally drags over her, slow and sweet, she lets out a low, shuddering moan that makes your heart stutter.

“That’s it,” she murmurs, voice shaking now. “My good fucking girl.”

You lick into her like she’s holy, like this is your altar, and your worship is earned. You’re gentle, focused, letting her control the rhythm, her hand guiding your mouth, her hips twitching up against your tongue as she gets louder, messier, more desperate.

You moan against her, the sound sending vibrations straight through her.

“Fuck… fuck, yes- don’t stop, don’t you dare- ”

She comes with a sharp, broken cry, thighs clenching around your head, her voice shattering into a gasp of your name like it’s the only word she knows.

You stay there.

Kiss her through it. Lick her clean. Keep your mouth soft and open on her until she’s twitching, panting, tugging your hair to pull you off with a sharp hiss.

You look up at her, eyes shining, and whisper: “Thank you, I love you.”

Maya groans. “Fuck. Come here.”

She pulls you up, kisses you filthy, tasting herself on your tongue and rolls you into her arms, both of you ruined and radiant in the glow of it.

Sunlight spills through the curtains, warm and golden, casting a soft glow over your skin as you stretch slowly beneath the sheets.

You’re still a little sore. Your thighs ache in that perfect way, your lips are swollen from kissing, and there’s a faint, delicious hum still rolling through your muscles, reminders of everything Maya did to you last night. How she took from you. How you gave her everything.

She’s already awake.

Propped against the headboard, hair mussed, one arm lazily draped around your waist as she scrolls her phone with the other hand, wearing only her open silk robe and a smirk that spells danger.

You blink up at her, sleep-heavy. “What’re you doing?”

She doesn’t look away from the screen. “Texting Matt.”

You groan and bury your face in her hip. “Poor man.”

She grins. “He’s fine. I’m giving him the gift of hope.”

You peek up. “What’d you say?”

Maya hits send with a little flourish, then turns the phone toward you.

<Maya: You’re getting your meeting. Wear something that doesn’t scream ‘desperation.’>

You burst into sleepy laughter, curling closer to her. “You’re so mean,” you mumble against her skin.

She strokes your hair. “He’ll live. Probably already printing t-shirts that say I Met Y/N Y/L/N and Survived.”

You giggle again, then go quiet.

Maya glances down. “What?”

You look up at her, eyes soft. “I’m glad it’s you.”

She pauses. Smile fading into something warmer, deeper.

“I know,” she says, brushing a kiss to your forehead. “Me too.”

Then her phone buzzes. A message from Matt.

Maya sighs dramatically and locks her screen. “This is what I get for letting the masses know you’re mine.”

You hum, smug. “You love me.”

She kisses you. “I fucking do.”

The conference room is spotless. Brighter than usual. Like someone turned up the lights to overcompensate for the impending dread.

Matt Remick is pacing again.

Quinn’s at the end of the table, calm on the outside, but absolutely sweating through her blouse. Sal’s already had two coffees, half a croissant and is fidgeting so hard the table rattles.

And Maya? Maya’s lounging in her chair like this is a boredom exercise, one leg crossed over the other, iced coffee in hand, sunglasses still on even though they’re inside. Her expression is unreadable, cool and calm, the faintest smirk playing at her lips.

“She’s late,” Matt says, not for the first time.

“She’s not late,” Maya replies, not looking up. “She’s theatrical.”

Quinn eyes the door like it might explode open at any second. “Do we stand when she comes in?”

Matt actually considers it. “I don’t know, do we?!”

“She’s not the fucking Pope,” Maya mutters.

Sal’s bouncing his knee. “I think I’m gonna throw up. What if she hates the pitch? What if she says nothing and just leaves?”

“She won’t leave,” Maya says, now finally pulling off her sunglasses, revealing that infuriating glint in her eyes.

“How do you know?” Matt asks.

And that’s when they all hear it: the elevator ding.

Everyone freezes.

Maya uncrosses her legs slowly, deliberately. “She’s here,” she says.

Sal stands so fast he knocks his chair back.

Matt smooths his blazer, then immediately un-smooths it, then just gives up and wipes his palms on his trousers.

The footsteps echo down the hallway.

Quinn breathes out, once. “Okay. Show time.”

Maya leans back in her chair, sipping her coffee from her obnoxiously big Stanley cup like the goddess of chaos she is. “She’s gonna eat you alive,” she says, deadpan.

Matt doesn’t know if she’s joking.

And then the door opens. You enter the room like a shadow falling over water, quiet, poised, the kind of still that makes people hold their breath without realizing it. The moment you step through the door, the air shifts. Matt bolts upright. Quinn straightens her notes. Sal tries to stand but mostly fumbles his coffee.

Maya’s already sitting back in her chair, legs crossed, wearing a black Gucci hoodie layered over a YSL T-shirt, obscenely expensive sneakers up on the edge of the table like this is a meeting she couldn’t care less about. But her eyes don’t leave you. Not once.

You take the head of the table. Say nothing. Let them sweat.

Matt starts first, of course. “We are thrilled you’re here. Honestly, this… this means a lot.”

You blink.

He keeps going. “We’ve been talking internally about what kind of slate makes sense for where film is heading, where you’re heading. And your voice? We think it defines the next era.”

Quinn jumps in. “Your work doesn’t compromise, and neither do we. You’d have creative control, a team that gets the tone, the language, the darkness.”

“We’ll protect your process,” Matt adds quickly. “We want to empower you, not get in your way.”

“We’ll give you whatever you want,” Sal says, before realizing how that sounds. “I mean, not whatever, but like… most things. Within reason. Or- outside reason, if it’s, like, cool.”

You stare at him.

Maya pinches the bridge of her nose.

You sit at the head of the table, spine straight, legs crossed, eyes focused on a fixed point in the distance like you’re seeing something no one else in the room can.

The others: Matt, Sal, and Quinn, are still mid-pitch. Words flying, ideas piling up on top of each other, offers and promises and desperate energy all funneled toward you.

And you’re still.

Maya clocks it immediately. She hasn’t said a word since you walked in. Just sat quietly off to the side in her usual luxury streetwear combo, arms folded, eyes locked on you.

But when your fingers twitch on the armrest, barely, like a flicker of static, she moves. Not dramatic. Not showy. Just real. She stands, walks over, and places her hand on your back. Palm flat. Warm. Steady. Her other hand rests on your forearm. No words. No looks exchanged.

And you exhale.

Barely a sound. But Maya feels it.

Your shoulders loosen. Your eyes slip closed. Not all the way, just enough to quiet the noise. You lean into the touch. Just a little.

And that’s when Quinn sees it.

It clicks, not in some cinematic, revelatory way. Just quietly. All at once. You’re not mysterious because it’s your brand. You’re not untouchable because you’re trying to be.

You’re just… different.

Your silence isn’t curated. It’s instinct. The long pauses. The blank stares. The way you drift just slightly outside the rhythm of a room. You’re not avoiding them because you’re a diva. You’re avoiding them because you’re anxious.

Quinn glances at Maya who is now gently running her thumb along your arm, still facing forward like she doesn’t want to make a scene, and sees it for what it is.

This isn't a strategy. It’s care. Maya’s anchoring you while the others scramble to impress you. And it’s working.

Matt hasn’t noticed. He’s still going, talking fast, trying to pivot into something with buzzwords. Sal keeps jumping in with half-formed ideas.

But Quinn watches the way your lips part just slightly, like you’re finally able to breathe again.

And Maya? Maya just mutters, quiet enough for only you to hear: “You’re good, baby. They’re just noise.”

You don’t respond.

You don’t have to.

Matt is mid-sentence, something about festival reach and global rights, his voice hitting that slightly manic pitch of a man dangling off the edge of a dream.

“- we’d leverage the marketing momentum of Wolves at the Well, of course, but frame this next project as your arrival. The next evolution of your vision, scaled but intact, and-”

“Matt,” Quinn says, calmly but firmly.

He falters. “What?”

She holds up a hand. “Just… give me a second.”

Sal blinks. “Wait, what-”

“No, seriously,” Quinn says, her eyes never leaving you. “Let’s stop. Right now.”

Everyone turns.

You haven’t moved. Still sitting there, Maya’s hand resting gently against your arm, your fingers now loosely curled into hers beneath the table. Your eyes are half-lidded, face soft but unreadable.

Quinn sees it again, the stillness, the disconnect, the focus. But also the touch point. Maya’s presence. The grounding.

Quinn leans forward, lowering her voice like she’s speaking across a sacred line. “We don’t want to pitch at you,” she says. “We want to work with you. However that looks.”

You blink slowly.

Matt looks confused. Sal is squinting like he’s missed half a conversation.

Maya says nothing. Just lets her thumb glide against your wrist again.

And that’s when you speak.

Quiet and measured like every word has to come out slowly, or else you’ll lose your nerve. “I want Maya to have everything she wants.”

Matt frowns. “What?”

You lift your gaze. Steady now. Direct. “I want her to have whatever she wants.”

A beat.

“I know you want me,” you continue, voice calm but unwavering. “But I only trust her.”

Silence. Not dramatic silence. Loaded silence. The kind that settles into every corner of the room and stays there.

Matt runs a hand through his hair, laughing, just once, like it escaped him. “Okay. Okay. Fine.”

Maya squeezes your hand under the table.

You sit there, spine straight, Maya’s hand still tucked gently over yours on the table. Matt looks stunned. Sal’s blinking like he missed a scene. Quinn is unreadable, but watching, always watching.

Then Maya clears her throat and stands. “Now give us the room.”

Matt blinks. “What?”

She jerks her head toward the door. “Out. Five minutes.”

Quinn nods immediately, dragging Sal by the arm. Matt hesitates, glancing at you one last time before sighing and following.

The door clicks shut.

And no one hears footsteps retreating because of course they don’t leave. They stay just outside. Pressed up against the glass wall like they’ve got a right to any of what’s about to happen.

Inside? Maya turns to you, arms crossed, eyes soft, but still sharp enough to cut.

“You were fucking incredible,” she says, quiet and sure. “You know that, right?”

You don’t answer. Not with words. You’re up before you know it, rising from the chair like you’re being pulled to her.

Maya barely gets her arms open before you’re on her, hands in her hair, mouth on hers, kissing her like you need it to live. It’s not graceful. Not curated. It’s messy. Desperate. Honest.

She catches you easily. One hand on your waist, the other fisting in the back of your shirt as your mouth moves hot and hungry over hers.

You mumble against her lips, voice cracking, “I was shaking. I was shaking, Maya.”

“I know,” she says, kissing you again. Slower this time. “But they didn’t see it. You held the room. You made the call. You were fucking brilliant, baby.”

Your hands are everywhere, cupping her face, grabbing her shirt, trying to climb into her skin. “I hate meetings,” you breathe. “I hate rooms like this.”

“I know.”

“I just wanted to hide.”

“I know,” she says, grounding her palm at the small of your back. “And you still did it.”

She kisses you again, rough and claiming, and you melt into it, letting her hold your weight like she always does. Her hand slides up your spine, holding you tight, kissing you like she’s proud. Like you’re hers. Like you always have been.

Outside the door, Matt whispers, “Are they… are they making out right now?”

Sal nods, reverent. “I think she just cried on her a little.”

Quinn’s smirking. “She chose Maya, not us.”

And inside?

Maya breaks the kiss only to murmur against your lips, her voice hoarse.“You want me to tell them you’ve made your decision?”

You nod, breathless. “Yeah,” you whisper. “Tell them I’m yours.”

Maya grins. “Oh, they know.”

The door swings open.

Maya strides out like a woman who’s just pulled off the heist of the century. She’s grinning. Smug. Unbothered. Lips a little redder than they were ten minutes ago.

Sal looks up, stunned. Quinn raises an eyebrow, already clocking the lipstick situation.

Matt shoots to his feet. “Well?”

“She said yes,” Maya says, without ceremony. “You can unclench now.”

Matt nearly wilts with relief. “Holy shit. Okay. Amazing. What do you need? What do we need to-”

“I want a proper budget,” Maya cuts in, already gathering her bag like she’s about to leave a crime scene. “None of this pretend-support bullshit. I want a full team, proper spend, launch runway, and I want control of the marketing. Not a taste. Not a ‘collaborative’ voice. Control.”

Matt nods, fast, desperate. “Yes. Fine. Whatever she needs.”

“Good,” Maya says, slinging her bag over her shoulder, grin spreading. “You can tell Griffin she’ll be in touch with a script by the end of the week.”

Sal blinks. “She’s already finished it?”

“She’s already writing a sequel,” Maya says, breezing past.

“And where are you going?” Quinn asks, voice amused, arms crossed.

Maya flashes a wicked grin as she opens the door. “I’ve got a meeting with Mackie and Ron Howard at the Sunset Tower in twenty. And then I’m taking my girl home.”

Matt’s jaw drops. “You’re- wait, what?”

But Maya’s already gone.

And behind her? You trail after her quietly, your fingers brushing hers. Head down. Lips kissed raw. You don’t say anything to the room as you leave.

You don’t need to.

Because Maya already said it all.

The SUV is silent, the tinted windows shielding you from the chaos you just left behind. The studio’s glass façade disappears behind you like a fading mirage.

Maya’s sitting beside you in the back seat, legs wide, arm slung lazily along the backrest behind your shoulders. Her other hand rests firmly on your thigh, thumb stroking slow, idle circles through the fabric of your trousers.

You haven’t said much since leaving.

You don’t need to.

She breaks the silence first. Voice low. Warm. Slightly smug. “You were a fucking machine in there.”

You laugh softly, head dropping to her shoulder. “I was shaking.”

“And still owned the room,” she says, pressing a kiss to your temple. “You didn’t just say yes to the deal, you dictated the terms. You looked Matt Remick in the face and said, ‘I trust her, not you.’ You could’ve spat in his latte and he still would’ve thanked you.”

You smile against her neck, quiet and dazed.

“I was just trying not to cry.”

Maya scoffs. “Yeah, well. You made me want to cry. Proud tears. Or maybe power-hungry tears. Still unclear.”

Her hand squeezes your thigh, harder now.

“Seriously, though,” she says, glancing at you. “That was the hottest shit I’ve ever seen.”

You hum, eyes fluttering shut. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

A beat of silence.

Then her voice drops even lower. “You know what happens to good girls who hand me entire marketing budgets and creative control?”

You lift your head slowly, lips parted, already feeling the heat crawl up your neck.

“What?”

Maya leans in, grinning like the devil. “They get fucked stupid.”

The house is quiet when you get in.

Your shoes are off before you realize it. Your hands are a little shaky, your breathing shallow like you’ve just finished running, but it’s not fear. It’s the come-down. The crash after the biggest high of your life.

You’re going to direct your film. With a real budget. With real backing. And with Maya’s studio. You’re going to make your movie. And you didn’t cry. Not once.

You’re in the middle of the living room, fingers pressed to your lips like you’re still trying to convince yourself it’s real, when you feel her behind you.

Maya slides her arms around your waist from behind, her mouth at your neck. “You did it,” she whispers, low and sure.

You nod slowly. “I didn’t cry.”

“I know you didn’t.”

“I talked. I said what I wanted. I told them to trust you.”

“You were perfect,” she says, and there’s no hesitation in it.

You turn in her arms to look at her, eyes wide and glossy. “I didn’t think I could-”

Maya cuts you off with a soft kiss. Then another. And then she pulls back, eyes dark. “You didn’t just do it,” she says. “You owned it. You handed me a whole fucking studio’s trust, like it was nothing. And you know what, baby?”

You shake your head, dizzy with her voice.

“I’m gonna make you feel everything tonight.”

She kisses you again, slower now, hands moving down your back to squeeze your ass as she walks you backward toward the bedroom.

“You trust me?” she murmurs.

“Yes.”

“Good. Strip.”

Your breath catches.

Maya steps back just enough to pull her gucci hoodie off. Her bra’s black, expensive, perfect. Her eyes never leave yours.

You pull your shirt off slowly, fingers fumbling slightly, body humming. By the time your clothes hit the floor, she’s already reaching into the drawer by the bed.

When she turns back, she’s got the harness on, low-slung, black leather, heavy with promise. Her eyes burn into you as she adjusts the straps, slow and practiced.

You’re already trembling.

“Get on the bed,” she says. “Hands above your head.”

You obey.

You always obey for her.

She climbs on top of you, straddling your hips, kissing you deep, one hand cupping your jaw, the other tracing down your throat. “Still with me, babygirl?”

You nod, lips parted. “Always.”

And then she takes her time. Mouth on your neck. Then your chest. Her tongue curling around each nipple, licking and sucking until you’re whining, arching up into her, begging already and she hasn’t even touched you where you need it.

“You gonna let me fuck you slow?” she whispers, kissing down your stomach.

“Yes… please… ”

“Gonna let me take care of you?”

“Yes, Maya…”

She kisses your thighs reverently. Then slips a hand between them, parting you gently. She leans down, kisses your clit once, softly. Then again. Then sucks it just hard enough to make you gasp. By the time she slides the tip of the strap into you, you’re already panting, needy, hands gripping the sheets. And still she moves slowly. Inch by inch.

“You’re so tight for me, baby,” she murmurs, watching you fall apart. “So fucking wet.”

You moan, high and desperate. “Please- please, Maya…”

“I know, babygirl. I got you.”

She fucks you with long, deep strokes, no rush, no teasing. Just possession. Her hand on your stomach to hold you down, her strap dragging against every perfect spot inside you as she watches you lose yourself beneath her.

“You’re mine,” she whispers, pressing her forehead to yours. “Say it.”

“I’m yours…I’m yours, Maya- fuck!”

“That’s right,” she growls, picking up the pace just slightly, her hips rolling into you in smooth, relentless rhythm. “All fucking mine.”

And when you come, crying out her name, back arching off the bed? She doesn’t stop. She kisses you through it. Fucking you deep and slow until you’re trembling, overstimulated, wrecked. Only then does she slow down, hands soft again, kisses returning to your chest, your face, your lips.

“Breathe, baby,” she murmurs. “You did so good. My perfect girl.”

You nod, eyes fluttering shut as you collapse beneath her.

Safe.

Home.

And completely hers.

The room is low-lit and warm, wrapped in the kind of stillness that only comes after. After the chaos. After the fight. After the fuck.

You’re both in bed.

You’re curled into her side, skin bare but for the threadbare Stevie Nicks tee you stole from her weeks ago and never gave back. Legs tangled under the sheets, arms wrapped around her waist like you’re anchoring yourself to something real.

Maya’s already half reclined, propped against a velvet pillow, silk YSL pyjamas buttoned down just enough to flash the edge of her collarbone. She’s got a facemask pulled up on top of her head like she forgot she meant to use it. Her phone’s on the nightstand. She hasn’t looked at it in an hour.

The only light comes from the old black-and-white horror film flickering across the flatscreen, The Haunting, or maybe Carnival of Souls, something you love with too much reverence for anyone else to touch.

You’re transfixed. Eyes wide. Body relaxed in the way it only ever is when Maya’s hand is resting between your shoulder blades, fingers moving in lazy, absent circles.

She watches the screen for a minute. Watches you watch the screen. Then she laughs softly under her breath. It’s affectionate. Disbelieving.

“Jesus,” she murmurs, lips ghosting against your hair. “I’m dating the next big name in cinema and she’s still just a little cryptid watching ghost films in my bed.”

You don’t even look at her. “I heard that.”

“I meant it.”

You hum, small and smug.

She shifts slightly, brushing her nose against the crown of your head.

You’re not talking. But your hand’s curled into the silk at her waist, absentmindedly twisting the fabric between your fingers like you’re grounding yourself there.

It makes her chest ache.

There are meetings waiting in her inbox. Contracts to finalize. An entire launch strategy to sketch out for a movie that doesn’t even exist on paper yet.

But none of it matters right now.

Because you, her strange, brilliant, batshit little artist, are asleep in her arms, breathing slowly, dreaming vividly, probably whispering storyboards in your head as you drift.

She smiles, slow and full, and tightens her arm around you.

And for a moment, just a moment, Maya Mason, queen of twenty-city press runs and million-dollar deadlines, just lies there. Holding her girl. Breathing in your soft weirdness. Letting herself be still.

And as the film plays on, grainy and echoing with ghostly screams, you mumble something into her neck. Something half-formed and sleepy.

“Fog machines…”

She stifles a laugh.

“Yeah, baby,” she whispers. “You can have fog machines.”

#maya mason x reader #maya mason #Maya Mason x fem!reader #the studio #Maya Mason smut #kathryn hahn #agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness x fem!reader #kathryn hahn x reader

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ofstarsandvibranium · 3 months ago

Text

Only Want Your Kiss

Fandom: Marvel (Actor AU)

Pairing: Joaquin Torres x F!Reader

Summary: Joaquin is head over heels in love with you. You know this and he knows you know this, BUT he still feels bad whenever he has to kiss and be intimate with another actor. Which always leads to you receiving some extra love from him.

A/N: Inspired by this TikTok.

You Joaquin was an actor when he asked you out. You've seen some of his work, hell, you became a fan of his work! When he told you he got cast in an indie romance film, you were happy for him, of course!

But then he sat you down.

"So I was reading through the script."

"Yeah, and?"

"There's some kissing and slightly steamy scenes involved in this film."

You slowly nod, "Alright."

"I just, you know, I wanted to make sure you're okay with that. I auditioned for this role before we got together and now we're together and plan on moving in and everything, I wanted to check in to make sure this kind of stuff is okay with you."

You softly smile at him, "Of course it is, Joaquin. It's your job, I know you don't mean anything by it."

"You sure? Because if anything, I could get a body double for the steamy scenes-"

"Will there an intimacy coordinator available?"

He nods, "Yeah."

"Then we're good."

"Okay...you sure?"

You can't help but let out a laugh of disbelief, "I am! Honestly, babe, I really appreciate you telling me and checking in with me about this."

"Of course. When we first started talking, you said communication is one of your biggest things in a relationship. I want to make sure I never unintentionally hate you or ruin what we have," he reaches out and interlaces his fingers with yours.

You lean in and peck his lips, "I love you." It'd been a few months since you two exchange those words to each other, and it still brings a smile to Joaquin's face when he hears them.

"I love you too."

____________________________

Joaquin told you he'd be coming over after work with some food and to spend time with you. You expected him.

However, what you didn't expect was for him to immediately push you up against the door, lips pressing against yours.

You giggle into the kiss and push him back a bit, "This is a nice welcome, but what for?"

"Missed you is all," he mumbles and pecks your lips again. He takes a step back, "Go ahead and sit on the couch. I'll plate the food."

"I can help-"

"No, no, baby. Go on. I got it." he welcomes himself into your kitchen and begins to pull out plates and bowls for the takeout he brought.

It takes a few minutes, but eventually he's coming out with two plates in hand. He hands you yours and then sets his on the coffee table. He rushes back to the kitchen and comes back with a glass of your favorite drink.

You look at him confused, "What's going on? You're acting weird."

"I promise, baby, nothing's wrong," he kisses your head and sits beside you on the couch.

He then puts on your favorite show, and eats in silence beside you. Throughout the episode, you side-eye him. He watches the show intently, while shoveling food into his mouth. Every once in a while, he'll make a comment on what's happening on the show, but nothing out of the ordinary.

Once you two are full, he places your feet onto his lap and begins massaging them.

You try to think what might've happened at work for him to behave oddly. Then you remembered: he was filming the kissing scene today.

You giggle and Joaquin's attention is pulled from the tv show to you, "What's up?"

"Are you doing this because you kissed someone else?" you ask with a smirk.

He looks away from you sheepishly, "Maybe..."

You giggle, pulling your feet away and moving closer to him, "Joaquin, I told you it's fine. I know it's just work to you."

"I still feel bad. I just-I don't wanna fuck things up with you. You told me how poorly your exes treated you and I don't wanna end up like them."

You practically melt at his reasoning. You already know that Joaquin will never be like your exes. Even from the first day of meeting him, you knew he was different from the rest of them. He made sure you were comfortable, never pressed too hard on things. He took his time and went at a slow pace because you wanted to.

You cup his face in your hands, "I love you. And I can tell you with one hundred percent confidence, that you will never be like my exes. Because of how considerate and communicative you are, you've already surpassed all of them."

He leans in, resting his forehead against yours, "I just wanna remind you that I care about you. That you're loved and I always wanna make sure you're okay."

You feel tears welling up in your eyes, "See? My exes would never." And that has you both chuckling.

Joaquin wipes away a rogue tear that runs down your cheek, "I hope the only tears I make you shed are ones of happiness and love."

You giggle, "Didn't you say that in one of your movies?"

He pauses for a moment and then nods, "Yeah...I think I did. Damn, I thought I was original for that one."

You full on laugh this time, "You're such a dork," and you kiss his lips, which he happily kisses back.

#joaquin torres x reader #joaquin torres #joaquin torres imagine #marvel fic #marvel au #actor au

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thesilmarillionblog · 9 months ago

Text

𝐁𝐄𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐒

Summary: You play Soldier Boy's wife in the new movie. He's a method actor, and so are you.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / F! Reader

Warnings: +18! (Minors DNI), SMUT, Soldier Boy is cheating CC, rough sex, oral sex (m! receiving), kinda role playing, kinky, unprotected sex, dirty talk, porn without plot lol, set in late 1970's

Word Count: 3283

A/N: English is not my first language.

"Cut!"

Soldier Boy winked at you, pulled his lips back, and loosened his firm arms over your back as the director ordered. His hand continued to touch you daringly during the romantic scenes, so it must have been fun for him to witness your heart race. After licking your lips, you faced the director, who had been discussing the specifics with the rest of his staff.

With an anxious expression on his face, the director wanted to tell Soldier Boy something, but he was too scared to say anything since Soldier Boy wasn't the most sensible person when it came to providing guidance. Whatever was said to him didn't matter. Never.

The director then collected all of his stuff and gestured for you to join him. After taking the iced coffee, Soldier Boy turned to face the anxiously breathing and sweating director in front of him.

“Now what?” Sitting in the chair, Soldier Boy stretched out his muscles and asked in a harsh voice.

Soldier Boy became irate every time he was given instructions to act with greater enthusiasm and better, suggesting that the director, Mr. Nathan, must be dying of dread and worry.

“It's a romantic film,” Mr. Nathan remarked, appearing to become agitated as he brought up his hands on his hips. “And the subject at hand is war. It's meant to be intimate and heartfelt.”

“And?”

“You shouldn't behave as though you're going to have sex like you're in an adult film. I hope you don't take offense, sir. You're an excellent actor. However, would you mind being a bit more romantic? It would be quite beneficial.”

Snorting, Soldier Boy said, “Fuck that. A sentimental war film, huh? Jesus... I have no doubt that young soldiers would find greater use for pornographic films if we produced some. Believe me, If I fuck her and then leave her to join war, that would make women and men all cry their eyes out. Are we really making this trash movie for housewives only? Who approved this fucking script anyway?”

“Sure and no, sir—no, definitely not. I'm among those who approved, of course, and I can tell you that the script is excellent. Act a little more genuine. This is a movie that everyone should see. If you'd prefer, we could change the actress. If it would help you to be partners with Crimson Countess, maybe we can arrange that.”

The director looked at you, and you crossed your arms over your chest. Stupid coward. That would be the beginning of your best work, but his terrified ass was prepared to destroy your career before it had ever begun.

“Oh fuck no!” Soldier Boy gulped down his cold coffee. “Not her dry pussy coming over here. My co-star is talented and fine enough.”

You were going to defend yourself in front of the director, but luckily Soldier Boy was kind enough to stand up for you, which made things much better. You were giving him every indication that, in the end, you would do anything to get this job. You would never have taken part in a greater movie before, and Soldier Boy would be the ideal match for it. That was the top of your career already. He was attractive and interesting, but it was difficult to resist and melt into him at the moments when he was meant to give you a gentle kiss. Clearly, that wasn't his thing—being gentle and loving.

It wasn't your thing either.

Mr. Nathan sighed and answered, “Sure,” becoming tired of Soldier Boy not caring at all about what he was trying to say. “We're all going to have some break, and then we can go on filming, is that alright?”

“All right. Whatever,” Soldier Boy said. His specialty was not romantic war films, obviously. He sounded so corny in situations that you could be positive he detested every single love phrase he ever delivered. But none of you had the guts to tell him that out loud.

If he wasn't concerned about his acting in the first place, that didn't matter to you. There were times when you found it amusing that he was exaggerating in order to enrage the director. It was difficult for you to not break your character in these situations. The kissing scenes, however, were exceptional. You would have let him fuck you if he had made the move right then. He was only getting you wet with his tongue.

As soon as Mr. Nathan left, Soldier Boy stood up and stepped toward you, looking intently at you. Your entire body tingled with anticipation. Desire was already causing your legs to tremble.

With a low tone, he said, “Follow me,” and handed his empty cup to someone.

With joy, you followed instructions. You had already been thinking filthy stuff since the morning. Your pussy was swollen, and your underwear was already wet since he had been teasing you so much.

He locked the door when you followed him to his trailer.

He approached your body and looked at your long skirt before saying, “So,” and licked his lips. “What are you thinking about that guy who said that? About acting and anything else?”

As his thumb lingered on your breast, stroking it to make you go wild, you put your hands over his chest, excited about what was about to happen. Your thighs tensed with yearning.

Whispering, "He might be right," you ran a hand down his chest and felt his hardness through his trousers.

He smiled a bit at you when he realized you were ready for a quick fuck. You continued to softly touch him there, and his cock hardened.

With a sigh, “About?” he began to undo your dress so he could see your tits.

“About your acting,” you muttered as his harsh hand continued to torment you. “You should act more romantically and intimately.”

“Hmm,” was all he said.

He palmed both of your tits after he had finished unbuttoning your dress.

“I consider myself to be a method actor,” he said, grinning arrogantly at you.

You smirked and said, “What a coincidence; me too,” as you unzipped his pants. You lowered his pants and waited for him to give you guidance. “But what would your girlfriend, Crimson Countess, think about that?”

“I don't see an issue if you seal your pretty mouth. I also don't want to fuck her dry cunt forever. Now, get on your knees,” he said rudely, then, putting his hand behind your head, he pushed you on your knees.

Your pulse was pounding as you followed instructions. It wasn't that you were inexperienced, but it also wasn't that you were doing it for the first time. It had only lasted a minute or two until you had completed it in the past. It hadn't pleased you. You had immediately stopped.

You were ecstatic to see Soldier Boy's massive, pulsating cock, though. You wrapped your hands around his thick shaft, and you licked your dry lips, sensing its weight in your palm. It was exciting and tantalizing to consider sucking the strongest superhero on the planet.

You murmured, looking at his face and lightly brushing the tip with your lips, “What do you want me to do?” It was apparent that he was beginning to take pleasure in and enjoy what he was seeing. “Sir.”

He grinned at you and tightened his grasp behind your hair when he heard the final word, letting you know how weak you are in comparison to him. After all, you were both method actors, and the game you were playing was harmless. He was definitely thrilled.

He continued, taking his big cock in his hand and pressing it against your lips. “You're a naughty one, aren't you? About to be railed and excited to suck your co-star's cock. Not because you want to get the job, but simply to be fucked.”

“Maybe,” you said, licking the tip with your tongue. It didn't taste horrible, but it was salty. “Maybe I just want to get fucked by a supe; maybe it's because I want to keep my job.”

He finally lost patience with you and shoved his cock inside your mouth when you continued to tease him. You obeyed and took his cock in your mouth. You could take the head since his shaft was far too big for you, yet it was clear that he wanted more.

“Or perhaps I agree with the director's wish for my co-star to act more intimate in his part.” You teased him and palmed his heavy balls, adding, “Would you act more romantic just like you are expected if I was there, standing while your cum inside me?” You were certain that he would come early enough.

“You shouldn't worry about it. My cum will be flowing between your legs as you wander around,” he groaned. “But you'll suck that cock nice firstly.”

He pushed his cock into your mouth again before you could respond. You started to lick it by slowly getting used to the size of it before figuring out the right rhythm.

“Take it more,” he moaned, pressing your head on his cock. You were too aroused to resist, yet it was difficult to withstand his strength.

You attempted to take more of his throbbing cock by opening your mouth wider and placing your hands on his knees for assistance, but it was too huge.

“Fucking take it,” he snapped, annoyed by your poor attempt. Taking complete control, he then reached behind your hair with his other hand and stilled your head.

He made you choke around him by forcing half of his cock into your mouth with such power that you gagged uncontrollably. But you were determined to push yourself to the very limit. Under the mercy of the most powerful supe made you feel things. You had no idea that you needed such treatment in order to suck a cock properly. You became more and more wet as he applied more pressure, made you choke, and filled your mouth with his cock.

When you finally had enough of him, he withdrew so he could grab your mouth and start to fuck your face.

"You like that, don't you?" He moved your head to his cock because he enjoyed it. "You like being used like this? You like being controlled, huh? Yes, fuck. Take it!"

His cock, which was covered in your saliva, began to pulse in your mouth as he continued to fuck it. You clenched up, knowing what was about to happen. Your fingers gripped his legs more tightly as you tried to keep up with his power.

He asked, “You want it in your mouth?” However, it was obvious that it wasn't a question. Both of you and him were lost in pleasure.

Soldier Boy pulled back his cock and rubbed it on your reddening lips and waited for your response.

“Yes, please,” you moaned. “I need you finish in my mouth.”

He groaned, “Anything for my co-star,” and pushed his shaft back into your mouth as hard as he could. It was hot inside your throat.

You shivered in delight and disbelief as he started to flow in your throat, releasing his hot sperm. You moved a bit to relax, but he gave a loud grunt and stilled your head.

He moaned, “Fucking swallow,” as he continued to thrust his cock farther. You were so out of breath that tears were streaming down your face. He was cursing as he filled your mouth with his thick cum.

When he makes you taste him, you close your eyes and let him release his hot semen into your mouth fully. Though you weren't sure whether you liked the taste at all due to how strong and salty it was, you really enjoyed the whole process. You felt slick there; the way he was controlling your body was beyond perfect.

He withdrew his cock back once he had finished fucking your mouth.

Grasping your chin firmly, he said, “Let me see it.”

Your mouth opened. Excited, you could feel your legs quivering and hoping he wasn't done with you just yet. Even though you weren't sure whether you had enough time to go all the way, you needed to be touched so desperately.

He said, “Good girl,” seeing that you swallowed all. “Get up now.”

Without allowing you to react, he made you stand once more. It was absurd how he was still hard destipe spilling inside your mouth seconds ago. You wondered how frequently he would need to come in order to soften. It may have been because he was a supe. The cause didn't matter to you. Thank goodness he had the energy to continue. After all, you had your own needs.

“I hope we are not finished yet,” you stated, indicating your intentions with another stroke of his now firm cock.

“You want to be fucked badly, don't you?” Your long skirt was pulled up by the tough hands of Soldier Boy, who gave you a sly smile. “You enjoy getting fucked by engaged men?”

When his erect cock brushed your thighs and you felt out of breath, you taunted him, “Only the supes.”

He chuckled and had a brief look at your underwear. You were relieved he hadn't ripped them off. He removed your tits from your white bra and pushed your unbuttoned shirt down. You arched back properly when he gave your nipples a little play.

“Let's check to see whether you're wet enough to handle it all now. Tell me you're not a virgin.” He gave a warning but added, “I'm going to fuck you raw anyway.”

“I'm not,” you moaned, impatient for him to get inside. This time, you were unable to stop pleading. “Could you please fuck me already?”

The way you begged him made Soldier Boy smirk. “Since you're begging so nicely...”

He grabbed your hair into his palm, then gave his cock five or six firm strokes to make himself completely erect. He then bent your body into the trailer's wall and positioned himself behind your entrance.

When you actually noticed how much bigger he was than your hole, you gasped. Not that you didn't get fucked, but it had really been a while.

“Relax a little for fucks sake. Take it properly, or it's going to hurt. I won't give a fuck,” he warned, pressing himself farther inside of you.

You tensed up. He was pulling your hair a little and knowing that if he utilized his strength a little more, he could break your neck. That should have alarmed you, but instead it enhanced your excitement. Being at a supe's mercy as he fucked you was more exciting than any other sex you had ever had because you never knew if he might lose control while trying to get his pleasure.

He made you scream with pleasure and pain as he pushed his entire cock inside of you, pushing back with one strong motion. You began to moan and tried to fix your balance, but he instantly stilled your body by pulling your hair.

He moaned in rage, “Don't fucking move,” and proceeded to fuck you senselessly. Your eyes watered with every move he made, and your insides ached a bit. Both the pleasure and the pain that you experienced were immense.

“That's how you should get fucked. Like a slut you are. You are a slut, aren't you? You wanted me to fuck you there?” He groaned while continuing to penetrate you from the back. Your hair was tugged again by his hand. He needed a response.

“Yeah,” you moaned, placing a hand against his severe grip on your hip. “I needed you to fuck me right there.”

He was obviously pleased with your response since you could almost hear him smirking.

“Oh, yeah. Are you not embarrassed to want to have sex with an engaged man? Allow him to use your body any way he chooses. Show him that you are better than his future wife. You like the idea of a supe cheating on his girlfriend with you?” His filthy words caused your walls to contract as he gave you a strong and quick fuck. You were embarrassingly wet.

You teased him, “So what?” in between moans. “In the film we're in, we're husband and wife, right? We need to get into the role properly.”

“Do you think you can wear my sperm right there and yet perform your role properly? What would they say if they knew? Will you tell them you wanted me to fuck you so that you could do your role more effectively? Do you want everyone to know your cunt is full of my cum? Is that it?”

You knew that the game you were playing was making him more thrilled, so when he bent your body harder, you let out an excited gasp. He widened your legs and placed both of his hands on each side of your hips. Without his support, you would have already fallen.

You screamed out, “Yes, please, please,” as your walls continued to clench around his thick cock. “Husband.”

“Oh fuck,” he groaned as he got closer. He firmly gripped your bouncing tits and gave them a firm squeeze. “I'm going to fill you so good. Going to satisfy my wife's small greedy cunt nicely. Do you really want that, baby? Where do you want me to cum?”

Moaning, “Yeah, oh fuck, fuck. Please come inside, husband.” Your orgasm hit so hard you had to scream his name this time. You were sure some of the staff heard your screaming. Your walls clenched badly. You got his dick wet with your slick as your legs were trembling frantically. You felt like you were about to pass out from the intense fucking you were getting from him during your peak.

He moaned, “Whatever my wife wishes,” as he continued to penetrate you despite your oversensitivity. He then began to come inside of you with a loud grunt. Before he came, he held your hips so forcefully that you felt he was going to break your body till he was satisfied.

He cautiously removed his cock after giving you a bit more pleasure and making sure he had emptied his balls within your pussy. He gave you a hard spank on the ass and complimented you on your well-done move, seeing how his sperm was flowing between your legs.

You grinned to yourself and pulled up your underwear when you knew you were fucked well for real. You could let him fuck you again since his hot sperm in you felt so nice.

As he was complimenting you, you could hear him stuffing his dick back into his pants. “Now that was a good fuck.”

You looked at him and fixed your shirt, skirt, and hair. “I'm glad you enjoyed,” you said, biting your lips. You could still taste him.

“I'm sure I'm not the only one who enjoyed it,” he said, immediately lighting a cigarette and giving you a sly smirk.

You were told to expect on the set in five minutes when someone knocked on the door right then. You smiled to yourself, undisturbed by the stares from the staff, and spent the remainder of the day with Soldier Boy. You both believed that the method of acting had had the intended impact on you and him. The director was pleased with the two of you. After the break, Soldier Boy was acting better, at least. If only they knew the reason.

It's true that method acting helped you get into your roles better. Particularly behind the scenes.

⋆⋅☆⋆☆⋅⋆───⛥───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───⛥───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Comments and reblogs are very appreciated. Let me know what you think please. For more, here's my MASTERLIST. ♥︎

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olderthannetfic · 1 month ago

Note

https://olderthannetfic.tumblr.com/post/784181809513644032/in-fandom-racism-discussions-in-cases-where-an

Never mind that many, many of Hollywood’s most pernicious problems are in the cinematography, lighting, and editing.

I want to hear how the cinematography, lighting, and editing affect things! Can you explain or link some articles?

Sure!

The big thing to understand about film is that there is such a thing as "film grammar", and this is a lot of how we read meaning into film.

Think of it like when comic book ladies get drawn in the broken spine pose so you can see T&A at once and some defensive clown is like "Um, um, the comic said she was the main hero! She can't be objectified meat!" But the dudes are not drawn like that. It doesn't matter what the comic said. It matters what it showed.

We know how to read that art even if we aren't consciously aware of it.

We also know how to read film.

A character looks down. We see a shot of a book on a table. We know the book is what they're looking at. A character walks out of a door. We see them in another room. We know it's just a second later and a room away, not three years later on another continent. We see a soft dissolve and we know we've gone into a flashback. How do we know? Film grammar.

The problem is that because this has not been taught in a verbal and explicit way, we often have trouble articulating why film feels a certain way.

That makes it easy for a film (show, whatever) to undercut a character while pretending that isn't happening. It also makes it easy for somebody with a few one-liners to feel huge, and no, it's not just fans randomly picking for no reason.

The classic early concept everyone talks about is the Kuleshov Effect, a.k.a. the experiment that showed how/that montage works. Basically, if you take the same clip of a stoic-looking actor and pair it with three very different things, people will talk about the subtlety of the acting. He looks so sad when looking at the dead baby! So hungry when looking at the soup! etc.

Another important concept is that closeups of faces are where a lot of the film's story is told. It's often not the dialogue that's being spoken but some other character's reaction to that dialogue that matters.

Part of film grammar is that breaking the forth wall feels weird (i.e. looking directly into the camera and making eye contact with the audience), but looking very close to the camera is intimate, while being shown in profile is not. (Being shown from behind is POV-y though and makes us feel like we're with the character.)

Film has POV, or rather "narrative perspective". It's more complicated and more prone to changing than POV in a novel, but it's there. If you cut to a particular character's reaction to show which dialogue mattered or you cut to them having a thought and then end the scene, they're important. If you cut after they decide something or exit, they're "driving the cut" and we're "with" them. In effect, they're the POV character.

Cool, sexy action dudes with a lot of abs are hot. They punch things in wide shots. But for a single perfect tear woobie, we need a closeup. We need interiority.

This is often not granted to the characters of color or the female characters unless they are definitively the lead or are in an ensemble that primarily focuses on nonwhite characters/female characters/etc. Your MCUs and your ensemble cop shows might do a good job with everyone, or they might prioritize a particular white guy while paying lip service to the idea that the whole ensemble matters.

A lot of us were taught to analyze writing in school and/or we've just spent way more time doing that on our own. It is therefore tempting to look at a script and make too much of it. But the staging is incredibly important. Lindsay Ellis has a video about Transformers where she shows a scene where the girl is saying plot important stuff that makes it clear her character is interesting... while leaning over the engine and being ogled by the camera. Nobody remembers the dialogue. They remember her butt.

Characters can be standing behind others in group shots. Characters can be only in group shots.

If the script tells you that all five of your ensemble are important and they all have equal lines, but only White Guy McScenestealer gets a closeup, then he is the main character, and he is the only one who matters.

Specifically, he is the one whose feelings matter.

The reason it's all of cinematography, lighting, and editing is that the editor is the one actually putting those closeups in or juxtaposing the characters in a way that highlights them... but for them to do that, the correct shot needs to exist. That shot also needs to look good enough.

Not only do a lot of racist, sexist crews fail to get adequate coverage, but many of them were also taught by people who never had to light dark skin and thus they also do not know how to light it or shoot it. This doesn't apply to all POC, obviously, but it's the kind of thing that can fuck up a shoot with good intentions. If the dark-skinned black lead's closeups are lit like shit and their facial expressions are the least visible out of everyone's in the group shots, the audience won't be able to feel their emotions or connect with them. The editor might leave out a lot of their coverage simply because it looks less professional even if they'd originally wanted to highlight that character.

The director probably has final say on the cut in an indie film, producers for TV or a lot of big budget stuff, but you know what I mean: someone made this choice at the cutting stage, and it might be going against what the script was trying to do.

Prioritizing the character of color needs to happen during all phases of the filmmaking or they're going to get shafted. Ditto filming women like leads and not pointing the camera at their butts all the time, etc. etc. (Substitute whatever minority. I'm sure you'll find the same pattern with non-Han characters in Chinese media.)

It's not that hard. Leverage managed to light for the pastiest, most light-reflecting blown-out shot nightmare and someone with pretty dark skin. The key thing to understand is that lighting well for this scenario takes a little more time than lighting two people with the same skin tone, and time is money.

Other types of choice may not take more time, but they do require a director or cinematographer who's really on top of things to go "No, don't do the stereotypical shot. That's telling the wrong story."

The camera tells us what to think, and what it is usually saying is "Sidekick", "Love interest", "Person number three who is here to infodump and whose feelings do not matter".

I made a couple of little video essays to try to explain this stuff more clearly. They both use The Losers, one to show how POV/objectification works and the other to show how dialogue and even minutes on screen are much less important than how a character is presented.

Aisha is the Object; Clay is the Subject

Carlos "Cougar" Alvarez: Human Exclamation Point

In my experience, fandom actually does not elevate five-second randos all that often. Fandom likes the character who cried in a closeup.

Who that character is is neither random nor equitable.

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sevsevteen · 14 days ago

Note

hey! can I request a 14th member au where y/n missed a shoot because she collapse on the way of driving there, and no one knew before someone got called by the hospital, i NEED angst.

-> You can choose the reasoning on like why she collapsed and who got called!! 〔 •͈ᴗ⁃͈⊹〕 ♡

(This is my first time requesting so I'm so sorry if I did something wrong.. huhu)

hii there,, i combined these two asks! halfway through i forgot about the angst part...so it's a lil short 😭 this is a more lighthearted take instead

-- જ⁀➴°⋆

The sun was beginning to dip when you turned onto the highway exit, knuckles white around the steering wheel. Your schedule had run late - a last-minute visit to your parents - and now you were racing to catch up with the rest of the members, who were awaiting your arrival to film another variety content.

“Ten more minutes,” you muttered to yourself, eyes flitting between the road and the car clock.

You never made it.

It happened too fast.

A blur of your vision.

The screech of rubber.

The sickening crunch of metal.

Your phone flung off the dashboard, seatbelt yanking you back violently as glass rained across your windshield. Then…darkness.

“Still nothing?” Vernon asked, brows furrowed as he approached the manager, who looked equally tense.

“She said she’d be here by now,” the manager murmured, eyes on his phone. “She left home almost an hour ago. No messages since.”

“She’s never late,” Jihoon said, stepping over. “Did she call in?”

“Her phone’s dead or something,” Jeonghan added, letting his phone turn red on the 'Call Disconnected' screen for what felt like the tenth time.

Vernon tried to shake off the chill crawling up his spine. “She wouldn’t ghost us. Not like this.”

They were just starting to grow concerned - until every member’s phone buzzed at once.

[PLEDIS ENTERTAINMENT OFFICIAL STATEMENT]

“We regret to inform that one of Seventeen's members were involved in a car accident earlier this evening. She is currently receiving treatment at the hospital. More details will be shared once her condition is stabilized...”

The air vanished from the room.

“No,” Vernon muttered, heart sinking.

“She was coming here,” Mingyu said, voice hoarse.

“She didn’t even call…” Chan whispered, shaking his head.

“Let’s go,” Seungcheol said immediately. “Now.”

No one argued. No hesitation. Bags abandoned, scripts dropped.

They were in the vans within five minutes, speeding toward the hospital. The silence in the vehicle was suffocating.

The fluorescent lights were too harsh, the antiseptic smell too sharp.

The manager stood in the hallway, phone to his ear, talking rapidly with PR staff when he looked up - startled to see thirteen figures rushing in.

“She’s stable,” he said, breathlessly. “A fractured arm, sprained ankle, some bruising. She passed out from shock but woke up a while ago.”

“Where is she?” Vernon asked, already pushing past.

“Room 204,” the manager answered. “But-”

Too late. They were already down the hall.

You were half-sitting up when the door creaked open.

Your eyes blinked groggily from behind an oxygen clip. Arm in a cast, leg elevated. Your other hand clutched the thin blanket as you shifted to see who had come in.

“...Vernon?”

He was the first through the door, eyes glassy with relief and lingering fear.

“Hey,” he breathed, kneeling beside your bed. “You scared the hell out of us.”

“I didn’t mean to…” you rasped, guilt already sinking in. “My phone-”

The two of you turned to your ran-over phone. Shattered screen, bending at the edges, completely unusable.

“It doesn’t matter,” Seungkwan said, following close behind, eyes misty. “You’re okay. That’s all that matters.”

The others slowly piled into the small hospital room, surrounding you like a warm wall of safety. Joshua pulled the chair closer. Jeonghan rubbed your shoulder gently. Even Jun, offered you his hoodie to keep you warm.

Vernon stayed closest, brushing a strand of hair from your cheek.

You blinked at all their intense, quiet faces and… laughed. A raspy giggle left your lips.

Everyone paused.

“I appreciate the drama, really,” you teased, voice hoarse but warm, “but I swear I just tripped into some minor injuries as an added plot. You all look like I flatlined.”

“Yah!” Seungcheol scolded, though relief was clear in his voice. “You were unconscious in a wrecked car!”

“And your phone is shattered!” Chan added.

“And the company had to drop an emergency press statement!” Mingyu threw in.

You raised an eyebrow. “Okay, okay, fair. But I’m fine now, look!” You awkwardly waved her good hand before adding with a grin, “Kinda feel like I’m in a K-drama hospital scene though. Should I request romantic background music?”

Jeonghan snorted. “I’m requesting you never do your own stunts again.”

“You’re banned from driving for a while,” Jihoon muttered, scribbling a mental list.

“I just passed my driver’s license renewal,” you huffed.

“Irrelevant,” Soonyoung deadpanned.

They ended up staying longer than allowed, laughing softly through their worry, some members sitting on the floor, others stealing the nurse’s extra chairs. But eventually, the nurse poked her head in with a warning glance, and they knew they had to leave.

One by one, they gave you gentle hugs, promising to visit again in the morning.

All but Vernon.

“Let’s go, non,” Seungcheol called gently from the door, nodding toward the hallway.

Vernon shook his head. “I’m staying.”

You blinked. “Wait, you don’t have to-”

“I know,” he said quietly, settling into the chair beside your bed. “But I want to.”

There was a pause, your tired eyes searching his - not just for comfort, but for the steady calm he always gave you.

“…Okay,” you whispered.

The room dimmed as the hallway lights shut off, leaving only the soft hum of machines and Vernon’s breathing beside you. He leaned his head back against the wall, watching over you as you drifted off again.

And though your arm throbbed and ankle stung, you somehow felt like you’d never been more safe.

click for tooth rotting sweetness

#seventeen 14th member #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen drabbles #seventeen x reader #seventeen #svt 14th member #svt #svt scenarios #svt imagines #sevsevasks

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shockercoco · 1 year ago

Text

Consequences

Austin butler x reader

Warnings - 18+, smut, riding, P in V, overstimulation, dirty talk, jealous!Austin

Word count - 2925 (I didn't intend for this to be 3k words lol)

a/n - request: “Hi! Please can you write an Austin butler x fem reader smut where he's jealous after watching her film a sex scene and he shows her how it's done? Maybe he's a bit cocky as well because he knows that only he can make her moan?” - loved this ty, I hope you enjoy :)

“They need everyone back on set in ten minutes,” you hear your assistant tell you from outside of your trailer door, interrupting your inner turmoil.

“Okay,” you tell her, and you hear her walk away as you go back to your thoughts.

You had been pacing back and forth inside your trailer for the majority of your lunch break thinking about your upcoming scene. It was a sexual scene that included you having to be practically naked in a bed with your male co-star.

When you had accepted the role you knew what it entailed, but back then the intimacy part of the script seemed so minor, and you had brushed past it. Given the fact that this wouldn’t be your first time shooting this type of scene, you really shouldn’t be stressing out. During those past roles, though, you hadn’t been dating Austin so it was simple and wasn’t awkward. It’s also not like Austin would have a problem with you doing this either because he trusts you – after all intimate scenes are a big part of the movie industry.

The intimacy coordinator had talked to both you and your co-star Matthew separately to inform you guys on what was expected. You also knew you could always say no, and you would probably be replaced with a body double, but that didn’t do anything to calm your nerves.

Figuring enough time had passed, you exited your trailer and headed back to set where the makeshift bedroom was already set. You saw Matthew in a robe matching yours standing off to the side getting some final touch-ups from one of the makeup artists. He gives you a small smile when he notices you walking in before turning his attention back to the woman in front of him.

You and Matthew had grown close over the past couple of months, which isn’t unusual because you were both the lead actors, and he seemed like a nice person –at least from what you’ve gotten to see. Austin would always tell you Matthew was too nice to you each time he visited you on set, but you never saw it and would tell him that you would be okay. Austin is a persistent man and didn’t deter from his theory, therefore, he would always eye Matthew and keep you in eyesight. You would just silently laugh to yourself when you saw Austin behind the camera eyeing Matthew.

“Matthew’s my friend so this shouldn’t be too awkward. This will all be over before I know –,” you think to yourself, but your thoughts are interrupted when someone taps you on the shoulder from behind. You turn around to see Austin there smiling at you.

“I didn’t know you were coming,” you smile back at him as he brings you in for a hug with a quick kiss on your cheek.

“It was a last minute decision. I had to attend a meeting not too far from here, so I thought I’d stop by. I hope that’s okay,” Austin tells you as you lean back to look up at him.

“Of course it is, I was just surprised.”

“What scene are you filming?” he asks you as you two pull away. That’s when he notices the bed sitting in the middle of the room and your robe. “Oh.”

You cringe a little. “It’s just a quick sex scene, you know how it is. It’ll be over before you know it,” you try to reassure him as his eyes find Matthew.

“Yeah, but it’s with him,” he makes a face.

“I don’t get to choose my co-star, Austin. There’s only a couple more weeks of filming, and then we don’t have to see him again until the movie premiere,” you grab onto his arm for him to look at you. He finally tears his eyes away from your co-star to look at you again. He rolls his eyes, not at you, and gives you a nod.

Your assistant comes up to you to tell you that the director is ready to start the scene. You give Austin one last look before going with her and walking into the fake bedroom, Matthew joining you. Crew members start moving around to make sure everything is ready to go, and the assistant director comes over to put you and Matthew into position, followed by the intimacy coordinator.

You take off your robe underneath the covers, not wanting to reveal yourself too much. Nipple stickers cover the top of you while a skin-colored pad is attached to your lower half. Matthew also has something to cover his manhood.

Once everything is in order, the crew members start filing behind the camera. Austin is also behind the camera standing to the side with his arms folded and jaw tense.

“You okay?” Matthew whispers next to you, and you give him a quick nod. He’s currently laying on his side looking down at you. “I see your boyfriend came to cheer you on.”

You’re not sure how to respond so you just smile at him.

“Just imagine me as shrek or something,” he jokes, making you laugh in response.

“I was planning on it.”

When the lights dim and the director yells action, Matthew doesn’t hesitate to lean down to kiss you, putting his hands on your waist. Austin watches everything from his place behind the camera.

Safe to say Austin wasn’t a fan of the whole process. Austin watched everything from his spot behind the camera – the way Matthew touched and held you, and the sounds falling out of your mouth as you held onto him. There was also more than one take, which made Austin even more agitated and tense. He couldn’t help but wonder if Matthew was getting turned on or if he was messing up on purpose.

Both you and Austin were relieved when the director called it a day, and luckily that was the only intimate scene that had to be filmed. When you got up from the bed and put on your robe, with the help of your assistant, you saw the look on Austin’s face. You thought it was best to avoid eye contact.

The car ride back to Austin’s house didn’t involve much talking, and when you finally entered the house he was still silent. You decided to take a shower, to wash the day off and to give Austin time to cool down. Seeing that the sun is long gone, you prepare for bed — filming took longer than expected. As you walk out of the bathroom connected to the room you shared with Austin, you notice him already in bed on his phone, appearing to have already showered.

He probably used one of the guest room bathrooms, which isn’t uncommon of him, but given the situation you just find it extremely petty. You can’t help but laugh at Austin’s attitude, but then again you wouldn’t be too happy either watching him have pretend sex with another girl, which is why you try to avoid joining him on set during those days.

As you climb into bed next to him, he doesn’t even glance at you as he continues to check his emails. You sigh dramitically, hoping to get his attention, as you look at the clock on the nightstand displaying eleven o’clock. Still nothing.

“Austin,” you say, trying to get him to look at you, but he just gives you a hum in response. You call his name again and he just raises his eyebrows, waiting for you to say something else.

“Are you really going to be upset all night?” You ask him.

“I’m not upset.”

“Are you sure because I’m pretty sure this is what upset looks like,” you point at his solemn face.

He looks over at you pointing at him, still with a plain face, before looking back down at his phone. You roll your eyes at his pettiness as an idea pops in your idea.

“Is there anything I can do to make it better, at least?” You ask sweetly, even though none of this is your fault, hoping that a little pillow talk will help him get over this. A mischievous smirk grows on his lips before he finally tears his attention away from his phone, placing it aside to look you in your eyes.

“You know, there actually is something you could do,” he says, making you want to rescind your offer at his eagerness.

“What is it?” you ask, already knowing the answer.

He motions for you to sit on his lap by patting his thigh, but doesn’t wait for you to say anything as he grabs your hips to pull you onto his lap to straddle him. He forces your hips down against him causing you to hold back a moan, your thin panties allowing you to feel him grow hard through his sweatpants. Keeping his grip on your hips firm, he then begins rocking your hips back and forth, forcing you to grind down. You place your hands on his chest before gripping the fabric of his t-shirt as your eyes begin to flutter.

“You know what, maybe I am upset,” he leans to whisper into your ear. A shiver runs through your body from the feeling as he continues, “I’m upset that I stood there and watched the way your co-star enjoyed fake fucking you, and after all this time you still don’t see the way he looks at you.”

“He’s acting, Austin, that’s what his role entails.”

Austin pulls away from your ear and looks you in the eye to say,” So he’s still acting even when the director calls cut?”

“He’s just a friend, I promise,” you whine out as you begin to feel arousal pool out of you and form a spot on your panties. Your answer doesn’t bring Austin any comfort.

“This is exactly what i’m talking about, you don’t see it,” he shakes his head at you and removes his hands from you. “Lift up.”

Confused, you listen and lift your hips to hover above his lap, only for Austin to shimmy his sweatpants down his legs enough for his underwear to be revealed and to pull his hard length out. He then takes the lead and pulls your underwear to the side, grabs himself in one hand, pulls you down a little, and begins to rub himself against your slit. You both groan at the feeling – him at your wetness, and you at his teasing with your knees already growing weak.

“You’re going to take a seat and ride until I’ve had enough,” he tells you, knowing well enough that you weren’t a huge fan of riding.

You didn’t enjoy taking control, and you would always get tired too quickly, which encouraged Austin to take matters into his own hands and thrust into you until you were overstimulated — not that you didn’t enjoy all of that, you just rather be on the bottom.

You nod before lowering yourself onto him until you’re completely full, taking a moment to take in the feeling before beginning to move. Austin tilts his head up with a sigh, his lips slightly parted at the feeling of your warm, rigid walls swallowing and releasing him repeatedly.

Your hands are on his shoulders now, gripping tightly, using him to help stabilize you. Keeping his grip on your hips firm, Austin looks down at the space between you two, watching as his length continues to disappear and reappear. Your eyes join his gaze and whimper at the sight.

As expected you feel your legs quickly growing tired, so you lean forward to hide your face in Austin’s neck, using him to place some of your weight on.

“Oh, no. I want you to look at me,” he tells you.

“Austin,” you whine as you move your head away from him. One of the hands on your hips moves to your jaw, forcing your eyes onto his blue ones. His stare sends a wave of warmth to your center, his unpleasant mood turning you on, bringing you closer and closer to your climax.

“You didn’t seem to have a problem earlier when you had Matthew grinding on you,” he states. He drags his thumb across your lip, tugging it down before releasing it.

“You know it’s not like that,” you tell him breathlessly as you shake your head. He continues staring into your eyes without responding to you.

Austin finally breaks that contact when he goes to take off your shirt, revealing your bare chest. He leans down to take one of your breasts into his mouth, sucking and twirling his tongue around your nipple, and eventually moving to the other. He brings his hands up to your back, bringing you closer to him. This just sends another wave of pleasure through your body, making it harder to keep your rhythm strong.

You whimper as you look down at him getting lost in his own world, and that’s just enough to make you tumble over the edge. You squeeze his shoulders and let out a cry as a strong rush of pleasure flows through your body and down to your cunt. With his mouth still connected to your breast, Austin can’t help but moan at the feeling of your walls fluttering around him, causing a shiver to run through your body. He smirks to himself as he watches you fall apart above him.

He doesn’t let you or himself recover, though, as he flips you onto your back. He pulls his sweatpants, and underwear the rest of the way down his legs before pulling his shirt over his head and throwing it. He then proceeds to rip your thin panties and toss them aside, too impatient and needy to take them off the correct way. He goes to hover you and quickly sinks into you with a moan before pounding into you with intensity, trying to chase his own high.

Still sensitive and not completely over your previous orgasm, your next one comes almost instantly at Austin’s rapid pace. This one is definitely more intense and as you open your mouth to let something out, you’re met with silence, leaving your mouth hanging open and your eyes closed as you toss your head back and release around him a second time.

Feeling your walls close around him once again, Austin cums with a deep moan as his head dips down. He never stops thrusting into you, just slows down, as you feel his warm load shoot into you. This prolongs your high and brings you into overstimulation as your back arches, and you finally find your voice to let out a sob as your body continues to quiver and shake. Just when you think he’s going to stop, Austin speeds back up into you, making you place your hands on his waist to grip down.

“Please,” you whimper, wanting to tell him to stop with the continuous torture, but you’re enjoying it too much. He just laughs above you.

“What’s wrong, huh? Too much?” he teasingly asks, but you don’t have the energy to answer. He looks down at the spot you two are connected to see the remains of your orgasm pooling out and onto the sheets below. He watches as your flow of arousal coats him as he continues to plunge into you.

“It can’t be too much, I mean you seem to be loving it too much,” he removes your hands from his body and holds them in his hands as he leans down onto his elbows. You're caged in as he pins your arms to your side. Austin rubs his nose against yours to bring you back to reality, watching as your eyes find his.

“Austin, baby,” you breathe out.

“Austin, baby what?” he asks with a tilt of his head, knowing he has you right where he wants you. He leans down a little to spit into your already parted mouth.

You don’t respond, you can’t respond as you continue taking him in. Your body is on fire, and you can feel your walls constantly clenching down around him.

“You don’t want me to stop, right? I mean there’s no way,” he smiles. “It seems like she doesn’t want me to stop either,” he says referring to your cunt releasing a squelching sound with each thrust from how soaked it is.

What comes out of your mouth next is nothing but a blabbering mess as you give into him, feeling drool – or his saliva – coming out the side of your mouth. You feel more of your wetness run out of you at his dirty talk, before feeling yourself unexpectedly cumming again. You release for the third time with a shriek as you dig your nails into his hands.

When Austin feels himself coming to his second orgasm, he quickly pulls out before jerking himself off the rest of the way. He shoots his sticky load onto your stomach, marking you as his. You feel yourself clench around nothing, your cunt so used to him diving into it.

Austin uses his finger to swipe some of his remains up from your stomach, and then places his finger on your lips, wanting you to open. You bring him into your mouth before tasting and sucking his finger while looking him in his eyes.

“You better stop before we go again,” he looks down at you, already feeling himself growing hard.

#austin butler x reader #austin butler #austin butler imagine #austin butler smut #austin butler x you #smut #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha

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starkwlkr · 4 months ago

Text

you are my love | cillian murphy

barbenheimer series

“My beautiful boy, my little beautiful boy.” Y/n kissed her baby boy’s cheek repeatedly, earning a giggle from the boy. “My lovely beautiful boy, all mine.”

“Don’t forget me.” Cillian chuckled as he rolled over to face Y/n and Alexander. It was Christmas morning and the Murphy household didn’t have any big plans.

“We can’t forget about daddy. You two are my beautiful boys.” Y/n whispered, holding Alex close to her. “Good mornin’ my love.”

“It’s always a good morning with you two.” Cillian replied, pressing kisses to both Y/n and the baby.

Baby Alex giggled more and tried get his father to carry him. It was truly amazing seeing how Alex was growing everyday, but it made both parents sad. They wanted their little boy to stay little forever.

“Come on then, let’s go make mammy some breakfast then we can open some presents.” Cillian stood up from the bed, putting on his slippers and grabbing Alex from Y/n’s arms.

“I think Alex said he wanted waffles for breakfast.” Y/n smiled cheekily at Cillian. She copied Cillian’s actions and soon the Murphy family was in the kitchen getting breakfast ready.

Y/n picked out a record and placed it on the record player. She had a tradition of always playing the Charlie Brown Christmas album so of course that’s the one she chose to play. When Alex heard the first few notes of the opening song, he smiled at his mother.

“Someone’s a Peanuts fan.” Y/n smiled back at her baby boy. “We could go into town, maybe take Alex to see the lights.” She suggested as she started getting out orange juice from the fridge.

“I think he’ll be mesmerized by them. My mam told me I used to stare at the lights on the tree as if they were the most interesting thing in the world.” Cillian explained.

“You’d like that, right?” Y/n walked towards Cillian and Baby Alex. She grabbed his tiny hand and lightly kissed it repeatedly, Alex bursting out into giggles.

After spending the day listening to Christmas music, opening presents and watching Christmas films, Alexander was exhausted. He was out like a light the second his mother put him down in his crib. Thankfully Alexander was an angel when it came time to go to sleep. After adjusting the baby monitor to the proper settings and leaving the night light on, Y/n walked back to the kitchen to help Cillian clean up.

“I can’t get enough of those little snores! I want him to stay a baby forever.” Y/n started picking up wrapping paper and tossing it into the bin.

“Change diapers forever? I’m not too fond of that,” Cillian teased, continuing with the dishes. “I can already picture you crying when Alex starts his first day of primary school.”

“Like you won’t sob at the sight of him with his school bag and his school uniform. Oh god, he’s going to be so cute in those little uniforms! Thanks for putting that image in my head! Now I’m going to cry even worse when that day finally comes.” Y/n playfully slapped Cillian’s arm.

“You won’t be the only one.” Cillian softly chuckled. Once he was done with the dishes, he dried his hands on the dish towel.

“Speaking of the future . . . I got offered a role. But I haven’t confirmed anything. It’s for DC comics.” Y/n said. It had been a while since she was back on a film set. She couldn’t even remember when her last day filming was.

“If you think I’m going to talk you out, you’re crazy,” Cillian turned to face her. “What role?”

“Harley Quinn. A Suicide Squad movie is being made. I got a script and the complete filming schedule. If I say yes to the role then I would start filming in April next year in Ontario.” Y/n explained.

“That’s great. But by the sound of it, you don’t seem convinced.” Cillian took notice of her facial expression. Y/n did want to return to her job, but the thought of leaving Alexander scared her. If she did say yes then it would be a disaster since Cillian and her would be away filming.

“Alexander needs me.” Y/n sighed. “I feel like I’m a bad mother if I go back to work. He’s just so little! Some mothers wait until their child is entering primary school and then they go back to work! What kind of mother will that make me?”

His expression softened, his hands coming to rest gently on her arms. “A mother who loves her son and her career. A mother who’s allowed to have both.”

She looked down, biting her lip. “But what if it doesn’t work? What if it’s too hard?”

“Then we figure it out,” he said simply. “Together.”

Y/N exhaled shakily, her fingers curling around the fabric of his sweater. “I don’t want this to hurt us. What if it’s too much—being apart, both of us working? What if—”

“Hey,” he interrupted softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Nothing is going to make me walk away from this—from us.” He let his hand rest against her cheek, thumb grazing her skin. “We’ll make it work, no matter what. If you take the role, I’ll support you. If you decide to stay home, I’ll support you. You have me either way.”

Her eyes glistened, the weight of her worries easing just a little. “You really think we can do this?”

He smiled, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “I know we can. We’ve gotten through everything else, haven’t we? We’ll get through this too—together. Because you’re my love.”

As if on cue, Alexander’s cries coming from the baby monitor on the counter interrupted them.

“I love you and Alex so much.” Cillian placed a kiss on her lips before leaving to comfort the crying child.

Maybe it wouldn’t be easy. Maybe it would be messy and complicated. But with Cillian by her side, she knew they’d make it work.

TAGLIST

@leclercloml @butterfly-skinnylegend @rockerchick05 @equallyshaw @agustdpeach @celesteablack @hnybitches @ietss @probablypossesedbysatan @kittyrumbl3r @electrobutterfly @knpgituloh @butlersluvbot @captainwans @bellstwd @theekileypage @marti-su @multifans-things @ceruleanrainblues @litterallnobody @jackierose902109 @sinarainbows @cosniffee @thatgirlthatreadswattpad

#barbenheimer series #barbenheimer #cillian murphy series #cillian murphy one shot #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy #actress!reader

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yourlocalsmutwriter · 7 months ago

Text

Bookish girlfriend you're my yum yum - Mark Webber x reader

Summary : After going viral on book social media, you give the fans a completely new side of you. It catches the eye of an author (who happens to be a 9 GP winner)

inkscentedglamour: Squeezing in some last girly romance books before I film a new video for you 👀

username: Our queen is finally trying romantasy, I can feel it.

username: I need another object x human romance. I know it was an April Fools thing, but I need her to read Double Stuffed

username: DARK ROMANCE. DARK ROMANCE. DARK ROMANCE.

username : I know the sports romance PR is talking to her like the Green Goblin Mask

> username : Especially the new book with the MMC inspired by Danny Ricciardo

> username: need to rewatch her F1 romance streams on patreon.

username: Do you think this is after Two Girls One Formula podcast backlash?

> username: The girls brought her on to talk about books, specifically romances. I don't understand why the fans were attacking her for not talking much about the current grid and things like that and focusing on the fiction.

> username: Especially when she has said many times that she's easing into the fandom. How would you feel if people bullied you for starting with edits/ fanfics and books, like she's doing?

inkscentedglamour: Writing my script for the upcoming video and staring at what got me here

username: Throttled slander era, you will forever be famous

> username: The way she started off so hesitant to give it a bad review or DNF it. This was her first 1 star. People died.

> username: Asking people to still try it for themselves and to not just judge it based on her review. Cemented her as my favorite BookTuber, I fear.

username: The fact that she still followed through and read the entire series. And rearranged her entire Goodreads ratings after that? Iconic

> username: I miss her giving 5 stars. But the quote "if I can be cruel enough to give 1 star, then I don't think I should be generous to give 5 stars to any book, but one" will forever live on.

inkscentedglamour: New video, out now

username: MARK WEBBER????? OVER EMILY HENRY????

> username: over Christina Lauren?????? Ali Hazelwood? Katee Robert

username: you're telling me an Australian driver who retired like 10 years ago is her favorite author??? And was the driving force for her to get her to watch a GP?

username: she's the queen of Booktok, has talked about every book boyfriend, and now she's into cars that go fast?

aussiegrit: Talked about Porsche, F1, Mentoring Oscar, and my book, somehow. Why is Aussie Grit trending?

username: Oh no, our little Booktuber girl bossed too close to the sun (she has a million subscribers and multiple brand deals)

> username: she got it to 5 stars on Goodreads and onto the trending page on Amazon.

username: Mark, wear the My fake boyfriend drives for F1 mech, and my life is yours

username: @inkscentedglamour, look who sorta knows you exist.

inkscentedglamour: Oh oh

inkscentedglamour: Reading the book 😄🤩🥺 vs. having to describe its impact on you, your career, and the future 🙃😑☠️. If you see me verbally abusing a Google doc at the airport, no you didn't

username: Mark Webber in the likes?????????

> username: I guess he found out why Aussie Grit was trending

username: reading video hiatus is over, society is healing

> username: we haven't gotten a part two of her trip to a random destination yet

> username: true, she just packed and left us on a cliffhanger. Surely we're getting that first

> username: her caption says it all. For book lovers, some of you have no reading comprehension.

inkscentedglamour: I finished reading my book, so it only makes sense to hit the thrift, right? Reading vlog will be up when I'm back home (I was strictly told to relax)

username: the two glasses (which could mean nothing)

> username : this is the girl that relies on our discord pins to drink water, what is going on in the house of commons

username : Mark Webber, here again????????? Before me?????????????

> username: she sped through her book cause she has his new book on pre-order

> username: I just know she'll get it on Kindle too, no way is she waiting til it ships to her house

username: Mark's pr team was sleeping because wdym they didn't reach out to her

> username: And apparently, he's got a launch party coming up with "surprise BookTube influencer" attending

inkscentedglamour : Photographic proof that my favorite author knows I exist. Thank you, @aussiegrit, for the invite. And thanks for getting a decent picture before I cried at the blurb and dedication

aussiegrit: Figured you'd wanna skip the queue at Waterstones. Can't wait for your review of this one (also please re-read the new prologue before posting)

username: Mark has been secretly divorced for a year and was writing this whole book as a therapy exercise??????

> username: he couldn't tell anybody and felt like he was slowly fading into obscurity, which affected his mental health

> username: he was not thinking of releasing this until the OG Aussie Grit review

> username: Mark saying that the YouTube video changed his life, just as much as it did hers

inkscentedglamour: Night and day

Comments on this post have been disabled

14.02.2025,approximately 3 months after the book launch

inkscentedglamour: Valentine's Day, Book Buying Day, and Merch Drop Day. Shop the My Real Boyfriend Drove for F1 tee. And yes, he signed off on this specific hard launch

inkscentedglamour: time to be sappy real quick after the merch plug. Mark has been inspiring me, guiding me and showering me with praise ever since his second book launch. I'm so happy he's in my life and I intend to keep him there for as long as I can. He beats all the bookish boyfriend one can have (yes, even Zafir)

aussiegrit: I'm so glad to have you in my life. You see me and be with me, sharp tongue,flaws and all. I wanna build you bookshelves and watch you put my books on them last. Now stop being a YouTuber for a second and get back to being my girlfriend.

#f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 smau #f1 social media au #mark webber x reader #mark webber x you #mark webber smau

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melosliving · 5 months ago

Note

im not sure if you did this yet BUT HEAR ME OUTTT, what if reader played in a movie with both aaron and kelvin and they are doing a interview together and they both discreetly see reader fidgeting with her hands and dress and try to secretly stop her and then after the interview is over they talk to her about it because its been going on for a minute…

Let me cook girl 😎 thanks for your request baby ❤️❤️

aaron pierre n kelvin harrison jr x actress!reader

you’re a nervous little thing…

warnings : dissociation

Press days are nothing new. You’ve done this a hundred times before—same routine, different city. Bright lights, velvet chairs, a round of staged laughs and knowing glances. Kelvin cracking jokes, Aaron making effortless comebacks, you sitting between them, playing the perfect balance to their chaos. It’s familiar. Easy.

But today, something feels off.

You’re aware of the cameras, the energy of the room, the way your dress sits against your skin—but it all feels distant, like you’re watching from somewhere outside yourself. Your hands won’t stay still, fingers brushing over the fabric of your dress, tapping against your knee, pressing against your rings. The voices around you sound far away, the world slightly out of sync.

Then you feel something. Aaron shifts beside you, the movement so small it’s barely noticeable, but suddenly his knee is pressed lightly against yours. But it his his hand that makes you aware of what you were doing. He doesn’t look at you, doesn’t make a show of it, just lets the warmth of his hand seep into you like an anchor.

A beat later, Kelvin exhales through his nose, almost like a sigh, and leans back in his chair, arms resting on the armrests—but one of them, the one closest to you, brushes against your own. The weight is barely there, just the slightest pressure of skin against skin, but it’s intentional.

You breathe in slowly, focusing on that—on them. On the way their presence feels steady, how they’ve closed in around you just enough to remind you that you’re not drifting alone.

“You good?” Kelvin’s voice is low, casual enough that no one else would catch the concern tucked beneath it.

You nod, just once. He doesn’t push. Neither does Aaron. But they don’t move away either.

The interviewer shifts in her seat, oblivious. “So, let’s talk about the chemistry between you three, because it’s insane in this film,” she says, laughing. “Was that something you had to work on, or was it natural?”

Aaron tilts his head slightly, smirking. “I mean, that’s all her. I think she is what makes us look and feel so real.” He nods in your direction. “She makes it easy.”

Kelvin hums in agreement. “Yeah, don’t let her fool you. She’s got people thinking we were actually in love out here.”

You huff a small laugh, trying to shake the fog in your head. “You two were just as bad.”

Aaron turns toward Kelvin with a knowing look. “I did catch you staring a few times.”

Kelvin scoffs. “Excuse You, you were the one looking at my mouth every other scene.”

Aaron raises a brow. “Because you wouldn’t stop licking your lips.” Kelvin gestures toward you. “Well, she kept whispering in my ear, so how was I supposed to focus?”

You blink at him. “That was literally in the script.”

Aaron exhales dramatically. “Didn’t have to say it like that, though.” Kelvin hums. “Yeah, some of those lines felt… personal.”

You shake your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. “You two are ridiculous.”

Aaron grins, shifting slightly so his elbow just barely nudges against yours. “And yet, you keep coming back.”

Kelvin leans in, voice dropping just enough that only you can hear. “You okay now?” You nod again. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Kelvin holds your gaze for a second longer before leaning back. Aaron doesn’t say anything, just taps his fingers lightly against your knee once—brief, barely noticeable—before returning his hand to his lap.

The conversation moves on, but the weight in your chest feels a little lighter. The moment the cameras stop rolling, Kelvin turns to you.

“You been doing that a lot lately,” he says, voice quieter now, more serious. Aaron is watching you too, brow slightly furrowed. “Spacing out like that.”

You hesitate, fingers grazing over the rings on your hand again. “It’s nothing. Just happens sometimes.”

Kelvin tilts his head. “You telling us that, or yourself?” You sigh, pressing your lips together. “Both ? I’m fine.”

Aaron doesn’t look convinced, but he doesn’t push. Instead, he reaches out, smoothing the fabric of your sleeve, his touch light, absentminded. “You don’t have to go through it alone, you know.”

Kelvin exhales, shaking his head. “Yeah. Next time, just tap one of us or somethin’. Let us bring you back.”

You glance between them, their expressions soft, steady, patient. You nod. “Yeah.”

Aaron studies you for a second longer before giving a small, satisfied nod. Then, because he can’t not do it, he smirks. “Or, you know, you could just sit next to me all the time. Let me hold your hand before you start floating off somewhere.”

Kelvin scoffs. “Here he go.”

Aaron shrugs. “I’m just sayin’, I’m right here—”

Kelvin rolls his eyes. “And I’m right here. Not you trying to steal my shine,”

Aaron smirks, leaning in slightly. “Yeah, but she likes me better.” Kelvin huffs out a laugh, then turns to you, expression playful. “Is that true?”

You shake your head, smiling despite yourself. “I’m literally leaving.”

Kelvin grins. “Nah, we’re takin’ you to get food first.” Aaron hums. “Yeah, you definitely need to eat.”

You sigh, but there’s no real protest. “Fine.”

By the time you check your phone, Twitter is already spiraling.

“Kelvin and Aaron subtly closing in around her when she started dissociating… I need a moment.”

“No one’s talking about how Aaron just naturally reached for her hand without even looking? Hello???”

“Kelvin whispering ‘you okay now?’ with that serious look??? SIR, PLEASE.”

“They’re so soft with her but still manage to be the most unserious men alive. It’s unfair.”

@ melosliving 2025

#aaron pierre #mufasa : the lion king #aaron pierre x black reader #aaron pierre x reader #aaron pierre fluff #kelvin harrison jr.#kelvin harrison jr x reader #kelvin harrison jr fluff #kelvin harrion jr x black!reader #actress!reader

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transboyswitchytales · 30 days ago

Text

'Not Like The Movies Baby'🔒 🎬

🔒Maya Mason x RomCom Queen Reader 🔑

You are the most famous RomCom writer in Hollywood. And Maya Mason is head over heels in love with you. Too bad you won't give her the time of day. And Maya? Well, she's never been one to shy away from something she wants. And Maya wants you and only you. Can you still make the movie for The Studio? Why can't Maya just leave you alone?

WARNINGS:

Sexualy Explicit Stories / Dirty Language / Drugs / People High / Big Parties / Hollywood Tropes / Enemies to Lovers / RomCom Refrences / Yearning / Reader has past sexual trauma mentioned / Reader isn't nice and that's ok she doesn't have to be all the time / Movie Refrences / Maya is obsessed with us / Mommy Kink/ Slow Burn

(Want to read more Maya fics? Here's: My Masterlist) This is gonna be another long story. Let's fucking goooo!

It all started on a random Tuesday in a coked-up, crazy backlot of Hollywood. A place where no love story really begins.

Maya saw you the first time with actors and actresses swarming around you. You had just won another award. She eyed you in your group of bigwigs. You had more known actresses acting gay for you than a stupid bachelorette party in Vegas.

You smiled as Julia Roberts gave you her signature laugh. But Maya saw it, as everyone was distracted, your face fell. And then you pasted it back on quickly as Chris Evans refilled your champagne and told you another bad joke.

But from that moment on, something about you just stuck with Maya. At frist she’d tried to find a look a like, fuck some nobody and get it out of her system. But as your look alike was kissing Maya’s neck, Maya whispered your name. Said poor girl freaked out and Maya looked into her dates eyes and didn’t see you, and she ended the date then and there. Paying for the girls Uber. And going home alone.

That was a few months ago, and Maya had set up her Google alerts to any news on you. New movie rumors, sure, but dates you go out on, sightings of you on vacation, anything she could find really.

When Matt excitedly told Maya and the team that he’d bought one of your new scripts, everyone was excited, and Maya froze on the spot.

Patty was the first to notice this.

“Maya, aren’t you excited we got the Ravishing Rom-Com Lady herself!” Patty said only seeing another Golden Globe in her future. Maya quickly plastered a look on her face for the team.

“Of fucking course! We’re gonna make so much fucking money with this girl! When is she coming in?” The last part didn’t hold the same excitement.

“Uh, tomorrow I set up the meeting.” Matt said and Sal jumped up and down in excitement.

“Dude when she wrote ‘Days of Delight’ with fucking Matthew McConaughey and Kate Hudson! Fuck that’s their best movie!” He squealed like a little girl.

“How to lose a guy in ten days was good, but Days of Delight is fucking quoteable and it grossed twice as much!” Matt pointed out and the two of them quotes the movie to each other over and over.

Maya didn’t stay, she grabbed her ipad and Stanely cup and went to figure out how she was going to score a date with the rom com queen.

When you came in, Maya surveyed your outfit and was so impressed she felt outdone. But she stared at your ass as you shook everyones hand.

When Maya reached her hand out you look down at it and then turned to Patty and started to talk. Everyone noticed, how could they not, you snubbed Maya Mason.

“Patty I read your email, I’m almost done with the script. I enjoyed your notes, I think the side plot of the best friend is wonderful to change. But I was hoping we could cast Kathryn Hahn as a lead, not the friend in this film.” You told Patty and they all sat, and Maya cut in front of Quinn to sit next to you.

You don’t look at Maya.

“But she’s kinda a girl next door look no?” Matt tries and you disagree with him immediately.

“I know you are used to having her in comedy roles in your Studio, but she’s very dynamic. I know she can show the turmoil of this broken, raw, feeling I need for this role. So she’s my first choice. And I do have her number, she said she would be interested in reading it. I just wanted to make sure we gave her first looks.” You explain and Sal is scribbling notes which everyone thinks is ridiculous.

They all talk for about twenty minutes about how much they love the script and the yearning core you are going for. Maya’s eyes never leave you. Just as you are standning up Maya cuts in and finally asks;

“Kathryn Hahn is very in right now with lesbians, but what about your leading man?” Maya asks and you ignore her and turn to look over her at Quinn.

“Can you email me the timeline on advertising.” You say and all eyes look to Maya who is pissed and so turned on.

But you walk out after shaking Matt’s and Patty’s hand and then turn on your leather boot heel and walk out. Maya leaves her stuff and runs after you. She hears Sal saying ‘damn burn’ and she yells loud enough for the entire floor to hear her, turning over her shoulder to call his ‘dick floppy and his wrinkly scrotum matches that of E.T.

People laugh but she doesn’t care, she’s almost sprinting to catch you.

“Hey! WAIT!”

You don’t turn to her and so she walks in front of you and blocks your path.

“What did I do to deserve all of that sweetheart?” She says and your face turns even colder at the nickname.

“Ms. Mason-” You start as if you are already exhausted from having to speak to her. Maya is floored at how much of a dislike you have for her.

“Maya, It’s Maya, please come on. I’m head of marketing on your movie. You can’t even look at me?” The older hollywood head says to you.

“Ms. Mason, your reputation is…” You trail off and Maya has the nerve to look proud of her reputation. Though your face doesn’t mirror the pride she seems to feel for what people say about her. The fear she evokes.

“So you hold whatever that was against me?” Maya finishes the thought for you.

“No, actually it’s just….” You are working so hard to be civil and Maya doesn’t like all this stupid pussyfooting around. So when she tilts her head to the side and decides to lay on the rizz.

“So are you jealous baby? You don’t wanna have a good time too?” She says and your bullshit attempt at staying aloof but professional goes out the window. And fuck does your anger turn Maya on.

You chuckle like a villain in a movie. Before saying what you really think. Maya would have paid good money for this kind of humiliation.

“I’ve met so many of you, you know that right? That you aren’t anything new. I respect your job, I respect your studio. Which is why I’ll sell you the rights to my movie. But Maya Mason, make no mistake. I see you. You wear more labels than a NASCAR driver. You say the most ‘lit’ terms and you have your hand on the pulse of social media. You probably know when Angelina Jolie’s sex tape drops before Brad Pitt. But here’s the thing, I don’t like you. You like cheap stimulation, you reak of one night stands, and reused pick-up lines. We have nothing in common. You are everything that’s wrong with this industry..and honestly this town.” You say and you feel such relief in not having to play nice in the sandbox. You expect Maya to retaliate or say her studio won’t make your movie anymore.

You don’t expect her to laugh and Maya to look giddy at you.

“Damn, my mother should take notes from you. I think my past therapist took six months to gently tell me a word of what you just said in five seconds. Fuck you are something else Miss RomCom, let me buy you a cup of coffee? Or there’s this great bistro?” Maya flirts and your eyebrow twitches. Before you sneer realizing what this is.

“Mason don’t do this.” You say like she’s being stupid.

“What! You might actually find the conversation stimulating! I could surprise you. What with my original pick up lines. Come on baby?” Maya says and you pull your phone out to see a text.

“I don’t have time for this.” You say like you are telling a toddler you can’t possibly play Barbies right now.

Maya makes a mental note that she’s never felt more alive. Fuck gentle banter at a bar, you had her veins lighting up more than any drug she’d ever taken.

“For coffee? Or lunch?” Maya says like it’s innocent.

But you put your phone down and glare again. You feed her another round of insults.

“For your games. I’m not here for this. Please do me a favor, don’t take this as me challenging you. It’s so toxic, just like whatever you are probably thinking right now. Marketing head Mason, you are so predictable. We aren’t kids on a playground. You want me because I’m not interested and that’s gross. Listen, I could tell you a bunch of cliche shit. You aren’t my type, I’m not looking for what you are right now. Whatever you want to hear. But the truth of it is, I’m not interested. And you are so not used to being turned down by a girl…that you think that means you should push harder is just so…predictable. Just leave me alone, go fuck a model or an assistant or some new actress. Someone who’s never heard of Virginia Woolf or Margaret Atwood, who thinks classic music is Harry Styles. Ok? Call me a snob to your buddies, and do a line in the bathroom like everyone else.”

You say and Maya just smirks. Her voice drops an octave and she stepps forward and you try not to let the power play show that you are actually having fun now.

“You think you got me all figured out sweetie?”

You don’t let this nickname thing keep going, it’s so worn out. You practically make the same face Anne Hathaway does leaving the gross hotel suite in Paris in Devil Wears Prada. ‘I’m not your Baby.’ The line plays in your mind and you channel that energy as you say it to Maya.

“I’m not your sweetie Mason. I’m just another writer in this town. I’m nobody to you, ok? Sell my movie, that’s great. I’m grateful for all you are going to do. I’m sure you will do a wonderful job. But I don’t want your coffee or cheap tricks in bed. I’m sure you’ll be one of those pillow princesses, anyway. If I wanted cheap sex and to be left unsatisfied I’d go to any bar in town and pick up a vapid straight man. I don’t have time to draw you a map to my clit and teach you what clockwise means. You seem like a boring lay.” You say and you feel, like Maya, the most alive you had in a long time.

This was so much better than pretending to laugh at an actors shitty joke while wearing a designer dress you can’t breathe in, at a party you never wanted to go to. This was practically therapeutic.

You tried to push down the thought that this would come back to haunt you later.

Because Maya stepped forward again and you were sure she was just as turned on as you.

“Wanna bet?” Maya says and she get’s a little closer to your ear to whisper it, her breath teases your skin. But you don’t take the bait and move away. You keep your expression unfazed.

“I don’t have the time to waste. I am looking for someone who has read a book, can hold an adult conversation. Not a vain girl who’s main news outlet is Twitter, or X or whatever it is this week. I want someone with an IQ over the legal drinking age, not to sit with you as you scroll through Tik Tok. I’m so not your type Mason. Thank you for the meeting. I’ll try to be kinder now that we both understand each other.” You put your gentle face back on, the one you’d practiced. Maya for the first time looks upset, not liking you putting your claws away.

You think of that Taylor Switft song and you want to tell Maya why you can’t be yourself any more. You have to put it all away.; I was tame, I was gentle 'til the circus life made me mean."Don't you worry, folks, we took out all her teeth"

Maya seems to read you and she also puts on a facade.

You put your hand out, it’s meant as a sort of truce. You both got to play, and now you both had to pretend again. You could pretend all day, but Maya was a master at manipulation. She knew this game you were playing and wouldn’t be fooled.

So Maya takes your soft scarred hand and then leans down and kisses it, her lips are so soft. The lipstick no longer sticky on her lips, she smells of expensive perfume and money. And you almost close your eyes to enjoy the feeling, but you won’t allow it. You let her touch you, because you don’t have the strength to deny her that. But as she stands back up you slap another glare at her.

Maya only seems amused at your attempt, and you wonder if you are losing your touch.

“I hope you aren’t kinder, what a waste fake pleasantries are. You busy tomorrow night?” Maya releases your hand and smiles and you scoff at her and turn around. So she calls out behind you.

“How about Friday?” She yells and you walk to your car.

Quinn comes from around the corner.

“Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone tell you…no. That was kinda pathetic. She really told you off.” Maya didn’t say a word to Quinn though, in her head she was already planning your wedding together.

She mumbles as she can no longer see you, ‘What a woman.’

_______

That’s how it was for a month. Maya sent you flowers, chocolates, weed care baskets, she sent you invites to parties and endless expensive gifts. In turn you gave no indication to any of her advances. You returned the expensive gifts, and Maya had heard it from someone on the lot that you tossed every flower out.

But Maya wouldn’t be easily ignored.

You worked through Quinn when you needed to tell Maya something. Maya threatened Quinn one day with a letter opener for your phone number, but she swore she didn’t have it. That you came in person to talk to her. She was shaking like a leaf when Maya rolled her eyes and stabbed the letter opener into her wood desk and walked out.

The whole lot figured out quickly the tension and Maya was like ‘Pavlov’s Dog’ she was so hungry for you. She stopped dating, she stopped social media scrolling, it did feel like….cheap stimulation. Just like you had said.

That weekend Maya got a new google alert about you.

She instantly wished she hadn’t looked.

Because this was the first time she’ seen you out on a date.

The picture made her skin crawl in jealousy.

It had you on a date…with the stunning and funny Aubrey Plaza.

Maya felt nauseous, ready to throw up her Hailey Beiber 20 dollar strawberry smoothie. But Maya read the whole article. And then she saw Aubrey had taken you to a famous bookstore in L.A. Maya screenshotted every photo…you laughing as Aubrey touched your cheek gently. And after she zoomed in on your face, Maya moved down to see the book you had bought.

She threw the phone onto her sofa and wondered if she needed to smash all her crystal wear in the L.A mansion.

Maya sat on her sofa and bit her acrylic nail in anger. Before rolling her eyes and getting into her expensive Benz. Driving an hour and a half to the stupid book store across town. She walked up to the pimply teenager and asked for the book.

“Do you have Gone with The Wind?” She growled and he gulped obviously intimated by her screaming at him. But ne nodded and ran across the store to get it.

That’s how it started. Your little book club together. Not that you knew what Maya was doing. But Maya liked to imagine you were trying to communicate via all these books.

She read; Mrs. Dalloway, Their Eyes Were Watching God, A Raisin in The Sun, Camilla, Giovani’s Room, Carol, and so many more.

Maya kept sending you expensive sentiment, understanding that you couldn’t be bought. But unsure of how else to get to you.. and you in turn.. kept ignoring her.

For a whole month you worked on the filmset, but Maya steered clear of you on the lot. She knew she needed to hatch a better plan. This wasn’t the way to your heart.

Yet every weekend Maya would lose her mind all over again.

You were photographed with Aubrey Plaza the most you two seemed to love going to record stores, bunch places, and book stores. Frequenting even once a sex toy store. It was enough that it made Maya throw a retro Versace vase across her foye. It shattered into a million pieces and Maya still felt like she wanted blood.

But it wasn’t just Aubrey, you were photographed with; Sandra Bullock, Marisa Tomei, and Anne Hathaway. It was ridiculous.

All brunette, all powerful and strong women, all 40 and over. You liked women older than you… Woman who held power and intellect.

Maya felt like you were taunting her. But you always had a book in your hand as you went on lunch outings and late night drinks.

Paparazzi followed you like dirty hound dogs sniffing a scent. They called you ridiculous names ‘ Little Lady Ephron,’ Shakespeare Secret Harlot, Bridgett Jones’s Slutty Muse, Lesbian Bradshaw, Gary Marshall’s Concubine.’ And Maya ate up every article they made.

Maya needed to know more about you.

Everytime a new story released she’d buy the book you had in your hand in the photo. She’d read it in a day, unable to put them down.. and then one slow night she went into her theater room. No new TMZ story about you this weekend, no new book, so she’d been bored.

And Tik Tok felt like it no longer held Maya’s attention.

Opening the Instagram app she looked your name up and found no account, of course. Sighing she threw the phone down and picked up the remote.

Maya couldn’t even remember the decision, but she rented every singel movie you’d ever made. She watched them all over the course of a week. Maya was ashamed to say she cried and laughed and felt like she’d been on a rollercoaster. But every film she watched, Maya found herself even more in love with you. Not just your beauty in those TMZ photos, not your great choice in books.

But the way your mind told a story.

The way you wrote about humanity and two people finding solace in one another.

‘The Queen of Yearning’ now that made sense for you, that’s what your fans said. And Maya found that she hung on every word you wrote for your films.

So two months in Maya was about to call the florist to do your daily flowers to be sent to your side of the lot.. when she hung up. Instead opening her laptop in her office she decided on a different present.

Maya felt like after watching all of your movies, and reading your weekly book recommendations…Maybe it was time to send you one of her favorite books.

So when Maya left that night she opened her designer bag to get her keys she really wasn’t expecting you to yell at her.

“MASON!”

She jumped and turned around.

You were holding the book up, like this was Hamilton and it was the Reynolds Pamphlet. It was dramatic to say the least and Maya realized how much she missed you.

Maya was famous for being big and dramatic, it was fun to see you do it too. Even though Maya was clear you didn’t like that fact about yourself.

“The fuck is this?” You say and you walk across the lot, your black boots clicking on hot L.A cement. Maya had to admit, the whole of Hollywood thought you were this big mush. Timid and romantic obsessed, completely without bite. You wrote all these big love declaration scenes. And yet to Maya you were like a fucking rotwiller. She’d never met anyone with more layers, it was intoxicating.

You stalked forward and pushed the novel against her chest. Maya grabbed it and flipped it over, already knowing what she’d done.

“Well, it’s a book Austen.” Maya hadn’t called you baby or sweetie this time. Remembering the look she’d received last time.

“What did you call me?” You glare raising your voice at her like she’s mocking you now. A few people on the lot turn to stare.

Maya could care less, she’d not gotten to talk to you in two months.

“Oh yeah, you got a new nickname. You are the new Jane Austen. Pretty big praise, you do that yearning thing like Pride and Prejudice. Which is a little wrong, since you don’t do time pieces. Not much for the sandals and horses as Rebecca Ferguson calls it. But the marketing team heard it from TMZ. So it caught on.” Maya says and she’s not answering your question.

“So you gave me another shitty nickname? Thanks I guess?” You shake your head and Maya eyes you curiously. Something seemed off about this exchange, not that she had many to go off of. But you seemed more frantic then the first verbal game of chess you two had played. Maya made a calculated move to not scare you away. She lowered her voice and didn’t push as hard back as she’d wanted to.

“You refuse to call me Maya, so I guess we both get nicknames.” She says it with no real challenge in her voice and you can’t figure her out as you stare at her. Maya keeps holding the green novel. You point at it.

“The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo, why did you send me this book?” You ask.

“I figured you’d read all the old classics. I thought…you might like that..It’s my favorite well one of my favorites. I like the long yearning in it.. like your movies. But there’s something beautiful about loving someone and just…Being so..devoted? I mean there’s also that toxic hollywood shit we deal with on a day in day out, which is written well in this.” Maya says and you look at her like she’s grown another head.

This wasn’t Maya Mason. Maya threw shit at assistants, she did coke off of Miley Cyrus once. Maya was feirce and gorgeous yes, but no one had ever seen her read a romantic anything..You were so confused and then the reminder that this was all fake hit you.

“What is this, some game to you? You couldn’t get into my pants with the flowers so you what?”

“Holy shit Austen is it your favorite book too?” Maya was not stupid, and you had to admit that. Even if it hurt you. You tried to shield your emotions from her.

You’d been trying to get the rights to the book so you could screen play it and make it into a fucking movie for the past four years.

But you couldn’t say that.

You looked at Maya Mason for a second, fuck she was gorgeous.

You had to fake it with so many people in Hollywood. You didn’t ever fake your disgust with Maya, and that was kinda nice. But you wouldn’t do this with her. So you bit your bottom lip and made up your mind. You point at her putting your walls up high.

“Mason, leave me alone. I’m not another notch in your belt, or something for you to brag to Sal and Quinn about. You don’t get to fuck me up on drugs and then fuck me in front of your shitty friends or some shit. I’m not a toy! Ok, you don’t-” You say and Maya looks genuinely concerned that you thought of that. Wondering if that happened to you. And you can’t stand her concern.

Let her be Maya again, let her say the crude thing. Let her throw her power around, don’t have her look at you like you matter. That is too much to take.

“Hey, woah. I’m not trying to do that. I just want you to let me buy you dinner. You seem to think you have me all figured out but..Who did that to you? I swear they’ll never work in this town again..you tell me the name and it’s done!” Maya scowled in anger at the very idea of it. You throw your hands up to stop her and she doesn’t want to drop it but she listens for now.

“Mason, is that really your favorite book or is this some kinda sick thing you figured out about me? You pay my ex or stalk me or something?” You try to think of all the worst case scenarios now.

“Damn, who the fuck did this to you. You write the most amazing love stories…did all of that happen? Or are you..are you really are afraid of love?” Maya asks and your body flinches and she wishes she could take it back instantly. Maya had never spoken to anyone this way and it felt foreign, but the horror on your face says she’s done it wrong. This was not how intimacy worked for you evidently…Maya had just learned what intimacy was, and it was new for her too.

“Fuck you!” You shout, turning around and Maya panics and she shouts after you.

““You do not know how fast you have been running, how hard you have been working, how truly exhausted you are, until somewhat stands behind you and says, “It’s OK, you can fall down now. I’ll catch you.””

Maya looks around at a few people staring at her, but she doesn’t care. It’s not something she’d say to anyone, ever. But she quotes the book in the hopes you’ll come back.

Two months of wanting to talk to you was hard, Maya did like instant gratification.

You stop and Maya waits, afraid if she approaches you you’ll run.

But you surprise her by turning around and walking back to her.

“Maya, just forget about me. I’m nothing special. I write all this crap. But that’s where it ends ok?” The head of marketing loves her name on your tongue, but she hates what you are saying.

“You can’t mean that. You are lying. You are so talented. No one can write that and then…then believe..” Maya says and you both let the thought sit there. You clench your fists and Maya wonders why you don’t believe her.

“Goodnight.” You whisper and then leave her standing there in all her sexy designer glory.

Maya opens the book to the front page, where she’d wrote the note this morning. Her fingers trace over the letters before she sighs and throws the book into her bag.

Going to her car she blasts her bad ass boss playlist. She curses as the song ‘INTIMACY ISSUES’ plays. Finger hovering over the next button.

Always on the low

'Til I'm with a guy

Distracting my mind

Hope they do not mind

I need to get high

So I put a record on

Then I roll

Then I smoke

I just need someone who listens

I just need somebody close

Keep it simple

Keep it sweet

I won't be that girl you need

'Cause I'll be writing love letters

'Til my fucking wrists bleed, oh

High off nicotine

While they're asking about my dreams

Don't remember, don't remember

I've been smoking too much weed, oh

I don't want the intimacy, ooh

Don't lie to my face and tell me you will never leave, ooh

Please, I don't want the intimacy

Maya screams at the top of her lungs and slams her strong palms against her steering wheel over and over. Turning off the stupid song and then speeds off cutting people off in traffic.

______________________________________________________

Maya see’s you three nights later at a big party, it’s not where she’d expect you. You were obviously there to rub elbows with the rest of the big wigs. And Maya saw that look again, the one that made her so curious about you in the first place.

You had leaned over the bar, top of your breasts on display. Your cleavage was a sight.

You held a twenty between your fingers and asked for a drink and your face fell to the side, and then Maya was caught staring. You found her familiar gaze, more of a comfort than you’d expected and you scanned her outfit for a minute, before you nodded once. A small nod, but it was better than Maya had gotten from you…well ever.

Maya wonders if this is her shot, her chance to talk to you, really talk. Tell you how she feels.

The bartender handed you a strong drink and you melted back into the party before Maya could cut through the crowd and say hi.

A few hours pass and she doesn’t see you again.

Maya was talking to another studio exec when she heard someone yell and then a streak of your hair comes into view as you shove a tall man roughly against a wall away from you. The jackass crashes into one of the ugly modern paintings that line this expensive mansion.

He curses at you ‘Fucking cunt! You write all that crap because no one wants to fuck you!”

It’s not unique, and you don’t care about him or the people watching at this moment.

You just laugh manicly and look down at your now ripped dress, what a prince charming this guy was.

But Maya didn’t need to see another second of this show.

She didn’t even politely excuse herself, she pushed her martini into Matt’s hands and rounded to where you were.

But the guy didn’t take your shove as the final act of this show.

The upcoming Netflix special starring actor had the nerve to lunge at you, upset at being embaressed.

Maya was faster though, she kneed him in the balls and he cried out and fell over. Grabbing his genitals like they might have just burst, Maya hoped they had.

She stood over him with her sharp heels and killer outfit. His perfect curls falling into his face as tears formed in his eyes, his perfect jawline was next to Maya’s heel. And she stopped herself from putting her shoe on his face, leaving that pretty indent of her stiletto heel against his sculpted cheeks.

Flicking her hair over her shoulder. The music scratched and everyone got quiet.

A Maya fight was always a fun thing at a party, talked about for years after. Even though it happened more often than not.

“YOU BITCH!” The actor who’s name Maya couldn’t place wheezed. But she bent down and let the toe of her heel move under his chin so he was looking up at her.

You were watching, everyone was watching.

“You limp dick-nepo baby bastard, your whore mother should have swallowed you and done this town a favor. You just ended your career pretty boy. Not even Daddy can bail you out now. Don’t ever come near her again.” Maya spits and it hits his face as he is holding his crotch in pain.

You tried not to get turned on at the sight, honest you did.

But you were brought back to reality as a flash went off in your face.

People took photos on their smart phones like they couldn’t wait to post it. Keanu Reeves clapped and shouted ‘Go Maya!’

But Maya didn’t care as people got excited, she saw your look of displeasure, of horror at all the attention. And then you ran out of there and Maya was fast on your trail.

Maya heard Lisa Ann Walter call your name to stop you, but Maya was sprinting after you.

You got to the back of the house, and you felt anxiety spike so hard in your body. Maya fell out of the door of the party after you. You turned and cursed yourself.

You’d just made another TMZ article, you were so ashamed. You wanted to behave but you just couldn’t it seemed.

You look behind you to see Maya and she was gorgeous, her outfit, her hair, her make up. You thought of her shoes on the stupid assholes face.

It was all perfect, but that wasn’t what was the worst. It was the fact that Maya was so unapologetically Maya.

You craved her. You wanted to fall to your knees and eat her out right here.

But the reminder of all those people and your career taking another beating made you panic once more.

“Hey, take a breath Austen.” She says and you shake your head and pull at your once perfectly styled hair. Maya steps forward and you take a step back. You hated being touched when you were upset. It was a stupid movie trope to hold the girl as she was angry. If Maya touched you right now you’d give her a black eye. And Maya seemed to figure that out fast.

“Easy, I’m not gonna touch you. I’m not gonna hurt you. Just..put your hands over your head. It opens the airways. Ok, no one’s gonna come up here. Look! Look!” Maya says and she walks over to the door you both came out. She easily lifts the giant planter with a huge palm and she props it against the door with a thud. You are impressed by how strong she is. But you don’t let yourself analyze why you are looking at her gorgeous arms flex.

Maya puts her hands up like you are holding a gun to her.

“Just me and you Austen. Take a breath, no one to fake it for. You don’t need to pretend right now.” She tells you and you lean over and put your hands on your knees. Feeling the room is spinning before you listen to Maya. Placing your hands over your head, standing tall, and closing your eyes to take a breath.

“Good girl, keep breathing.” Maya says and your body shivers at the praise. And Maya saw it, but she doesn’t throw it in your face, or make a sexual joke at you. She just watches you and you want to hate her, but it’s hard right now to. If you were honest you never disliked Maya.

But as soon as you think it you have to lash out. You can’t like Maya. You need to put space between her and you.

“I didn’t need you to fight my battles. I’m not into that..White knight shit. I’m not in need of saving. I don’t know how many Taylor Swift songs you listened to in the 2008, but I don’t need your help.” You snarl and Maya laughs. She likes how creative you are with your cuts. But she doesn’t want you to focus on that right. So she drops her hands and gives you a gentle gaze. Her voice is soft and sinful, and you try not to find comfort in any part of Maya Mason.

“Why don’t we just table you despising me until your panic attack passes, eh? Then I can be the bad guy again.” Maya teases but she’s smiling and you smile at her now. Damn it. Fuck Maya Mason!

You get further down the spiral of anger at your own girly statement;

“You stopped sending flowers.” You want to slap yourself for saying it and Maya fishes into her pocket a gold cigarett case, it snaps open, and her manicured fingers pinch a rather large blunt. Maya let’s that sentence sit for a moment, putting the blunt between her dark red lips. She eyes you and you use all your will power to not look at her lips, really you do.

She swaps out the case for a lighter, you see words on it but you can’t make it out without your glasses.

Maya lights her drug of choice with the sentimental family arloom lighter, then snaps it closes. She takes a hit and then fingers the joint like she’s Cruella or something, it’s full of power, it’s gangster and feminine. It makes her look like the ultimate siren. Maya is dripping with confidence and sexual power.

And yet Maya doesn’t feel like that right now. But to you, fuck, you couldn’t write or instruct an actor to get close to the ease in which Maya had you aroused from just lighting a joint and smoking.

You never had seen anyone smoke in such an erotic way.

Maya rubs her forehead with the finger holding the joint and then answers.

“You didn’t like the flowers I thought, or the presents.” She says and you reach your hand out and Maya is quick, handing you the blunt wordlessly. She was a little taken aback, but she doesn’t show it. Maya wants you to feel comfortable around her, she wants to get to know you. Fuck she wants to marry you. And if Maya makes comments or a face to make you self conscious she’s afraid that she’ll scare you away.

You take a drag and hold it in your lungs, handing the dark joint back. Maya seems entertained by you, but she doesn’t break your moment to dwell on this. Maya tries not to think about how her lips are about to touch the same spot yours were just warming.

She feels like a lovesick teenager just entertaining the idea.

The song plays inside the party and it has a sinister low bass and you can hear the lyrics. It’s ‘Such a Whore’ remix by JVLA.

You're such a whore, I need her

When she's one me I don't feel so lonely

Don't leave me horny

Ride me like a pony

Her sweat, her moaning

She's just such a fucking whore, i love it

I just fuck her on the side

When she's pinched for me on light

For that pussy I would die

You feel like Maya isn’t listening to the song, she probably can’t even hear it, but it’s making you feel like this is a scene in a movie. To be next to her, this close, as those lyrics play. But Maya doesn’t let you keep listening to the lyrics. Doesn’t let you write your next story in her presence.

“I didn’t stop sending you things all together.” She points the joint at you before bringing it to her mouth and taking a hit again and you, in response, let the smoke out slowly. Unable to hold your breath any longer.

“Four Weddings and a Funeral, No Reservations, You’ve Got Mail …I’m sensing a theme.” You don’t mean for it to come out as flirty as it does. But Maya just seems to feel smug, like she won a prize or something.

Maya figured you’d seen them all before, but it was a theme she was going for.

“Yeah, you need to start writing more queer romance. Because there’s so much straight stuff.” Maya teases and then takes a hit holding it and passing the blunt to you. You inhale too, and hold it. Before looking behind you to see if anyone else can see you two smoking outside of this expensive actor’s party…or was it a Studio Exec?

Maya let’s the smoke billow out of her mouth like a dragon. Before you jump to fill the gap in the silence.

“Two people not compatible at first, one even not liking the other. Then..one person… giving them a chance…Kids these days call it ‘enemies to lovers trope. Though it could be argued four weddings and a funeral doesn’t fit that.” You say, calling Maya out. But she let’s her fingers brush against yours for longer than she needs.

Your breath hitches as the warm pads of her fingers graze your knuckles and then down to the ends of your black fingernails, she let’s them stay for a moment longer.

Before taking the joint out of your grip. Maya flicks the ash onto the lavish backyard patio. You wonder if she’s ever used an ash tray, or if she’d just put her spliff out on gorgeous models tongues.

The idea of it was so hard to push away, you were angry at your over active imagination. And why the idea turned you on so much.

Maya was watching you have an internal battle, and she would kill to know what you were thinking. Not just a saying in this moment, she had family in the Mafia, she’d do it.

But Maya let the doobie sit in between her fingers as she eyed it to see if the cherry had gone out. But the head of Marketing spoke to you as she fiddled with her lighter in her pocket again.

“Hmm, you know I like how you write all of that yearning. Your fandom really enjoys it too. The focus groups and first teaser trailer proves they’d watch you read a Take out Menu, as long as it was you. You have a way with words…A way with setting a scene.” Maya’s compliments don’t touch your skin, they don’t sink into your low confidence riddled mind. You are a tortured artist, just like every other waiter in this cursed town. So you focus on the interesting thing she’d said in that.

“You watched my movies?” You weren’t sure why that was so off brand for Maya. Not Maya coded at all. Maya puts the half smoked blunt inbetween her lipstick stained lips and uses one hand to block the Santa Ana winds. You think of ‘The Holiday’ with Jack Black being a gentlemen and helping Kate Winslet get the eyelash out of her eye. You try not to feel like you are in a movie again, try not to feel like love is at all possible, as you watch Maya take her engraved lighter and cup one hand to block the wind.

It blows from both sides now and her flame goes out.

Her manicured nails don’t get in the way as her thumb strikes the wheel to make another flame. You hate yourself for leaning in and cupping your hand to help her.

The memory of her breath against your ear the first day comes crashing in. You try to school your features.

Maya’s eyes gaze up at you now, she’s taller by a few inches normally. But you had higher heels on tonight, and she’s bent just enough to block the windy night. So looking up at you through her dark lashes feels too intimate.

But she doesn’t torture you, she lights the end of her blunt. And inhales, you step back and she flips the lighter closed. Breathing out before pinching the paper and handing it to you once more.

“Is that so shocking?” She says and you feel stupid.

You had made so many assumptions about the head of Studio Marketing. It felt jaded and childish now. You were a queer writer, you were never supposed to come to L.A and make movies. You wanted to write novels. Somehow you were writing straight love stories.

You weren’t supposed to be here. And people made grand assumptions about you all day. How you could fall into the same trap with Maya was now a little embarrassing.

You didn’t know Maya Mason. And it was becoming very clear, that you’d written her off quickly for the wrong reasons.

You shouldn’t have assumed she was just a player with no brains. Maya had proved to be different in every way. You read every note she sent in those flowers and you were quickly discovering from her desire to send you a movie every day….that Maya didn’t give up easily. She was driven in more than just her work, and she was so fucking smart.

You should have pushed her away because her blue eyes could only mean you falling into her, and that couldn’t happen.

You warrded off love, and you meant it.

Never again would you fall, never again would you give up your power. No, love and war were the same and you had no intention of bleeding again.

Maya was off the menu.

“Just doesn’t seem like you’d be the type to sit it and watch people fall head over heels for each other. Just figured you weren’t into romcoms. I figured you were more of a…trashy reality TV girl.” You can’t apologize and tell her you realize you’d been wrong. You keep up the lie. Keep the words hoping they sting.

‘Fall out of interest with me, I’m not worth this..’ You hope the remarks will do that.

Maya watches your lips as you take the quick burning joint.

She curses the paper for burning too fast. Not ready to go back in, not wanting this moment with you to end. How could she talk you into getting out of here? Going to a local restaurant and sit with her. Talk until the early hours of the morning, Maya wished.

“You don’t know me. And everyone wants that, that one person who see’s them. I don’t think that desire has a ‘type’ of audience. Everyone wants to be wanted, to be chosen in a crowd of people. To be taken home and grow old with someone. That’s just…perfect.” Maya says as she looks off into the distance. And you can see the hollywood sign in the expensive home.

The light bleeds against the dark backdrop, it would have made you feel dreamy the first month you’d been in L.A. When you believed this was the land of Angels, where people made history with their art. What a kid you’d been.

But time had made you mean and now it was just a sign on a hill. Just like the 405 highway. Nothing special as you saw it.

The color bled into the night like water colors becoming blurry on a canvas.

It was fake, just like everything and everyone in Hollywood.

But as you gazed at Maya you had to admit;

“You aren’t what I expected.” You wished you hadn’t shown your hand. Your cards felt bare on the table now. You hand her the blunt and stare at her hand instead. But Maya whispers and looks at you.

“Yeah, I suppose I’m not. But did you really think I was going to be… on…be like I am in the studio..All the time? You don’t think I put my feet up on a sunday, have a relax button? Don’t think I can chill?”

You think for a moment, before bursting into a fit of laughter.

“Fuck no!” You say dramatically and Maya laughs along, glad you get her brand of humor. Realizing you two had a lot more in common than Maya could have ever dreamt of.

And Maya’s sides hurt as she laughed.

“No, I really don’t. I am a lot, all the time. I actually threw an iced mocha at a producer an hour before I had to come here. Pretty sure he was wearing a vintage Armani suit too.” Maya cackles and you laugh too. Fuck it felt good to not fake a laugh too, but to actually laugh. To be naughty and enjoy a bad joke, someone somewhere would get angry at you for not being kind to the poor producer, but not Maya.

When you both caught your breath, Maya looked at the ends of her joint.

Time was up.

“It’s not so bad,” You whisper looking down at the end of your pot.

You felt a little floaty, but you’d smoked enough in your time here in California to know one joint wouldn’t do it.

“The weed? Yeah I picked it up so it’s fresh roll.” Maya says and you wonder if she’s being obtuse on purpose. As she flicks it into the big planter pot she’d used to barricade the door.

“No, being authentically yourself. Unapologetically crude and say what you mean and do what you want. Seems like it would be pretty..freeing.” You uncover a secret in the space between you and the gorgeous woman and Maya thinks about this. Eyeing the sign, the lack of anyone around, and then you once again.

Like she’s deciding, and you are curious what goes on in her mind.

“It is, that is until you lose someone important from your reputation.”

It feels like a declaration of love. And you almost want to be annoyed you hadn’t written it for a character in your storys. Because it was fucking good.

You both stared at one another, and you wondered if Maya would close the distance and kiss you. But she didn’t. And that made you want her to more.

“Thank you for what you did in there…” You point to the door with your thumb.

“I thought I was being toxic and saving you?” Maya’s eyebrow raises but her face is playful.

“I didn’t need your help…but it was nice to have someone in my corner..” You give her the insight. And now you really wish you would stop talking. Or better yet, be rude again. Because this was all too….romantic.

“Where’s Aubrey or Sandy? Not very gentlemanly to leave you.” Maya says and she realizes that she ruined your shared moment. But it’s too late to hit delete. Not a text she can unsend.

Your face sours and Maya opens her mouth to say words. Any words to have you look at her like you had a moment ago. But your walls slide back up so fast.

“What are you talking about? I didn’t bring a date. Oh, I see. You read that TMZ shit, you think I’m such a slut. That I’m going out every weekend with actresses older than me and fucking them, is that it? Jesus, I don’t know what I was thinking. You are just like the rest. Not that I care what the fuck you think, or anyone else. But those women are my friends. They’re strong and smart and-forget it! If I wanted to have a fucking orgy in George Clooney’s summer home with Viola Davis and Helen Mirren fucking me with their straps at the same time! It would be my business, not anyone elses! ” You say and Maya yells your name as you push past her and kick the big heavy planter, your shoe holds up. But the planter breaks and you step over the dirt and roots of the tree.

You throw open the door and go back into the party so you can get your keys and leave.

Maya tries to catch you but you are gone.

____________________

Maya doesn’t apologize.

She wan’t raised to. No one in her family had ever taught her how to, in fact.

So she isn’t sure how to say sorry. But she knew she regretted how things ended that night. And she still was desperate for your company. Even if you never believed her, she just wanted to talk to you.

Maya was in love, already so far gone, and it was embarrassing. If Maya did get embarrassed by feelings, which she didn’t.

So on Monday she opened another browser on her computer and ordered a book again. Hoping it would get you to talk to her, even if it was just to throw it in her face.

So three hours later when she was taking a meeting with Patty and Sal and you threw the door of her office open. She was relieved, not upset.

Maya’s assistant was trying to stop you but she shushed him.

“The fuck is this?” You held up Viola Davis’s memoire. But then you saw Sal and Patty and your face paled.

“We’ll leave, this seems like a couples thing.” Sal says and you open your mouth to say that you aren’t dating Maya. But you can’t find it in yourself to correct him.

So when Patty lightly pats Maya’s shoulder like an understanding friend. Who is very aware that she’s gonna sleep on the sofa you wonder if the whole studio believes you two are actually dating.

Maya closes the door and then puts her hand out for the sofa.

You don’t want to give her the pleasure of being obedient. So you throw the book at her and Maya ducks. Not catching it as it hits the wall.

“I take it you aren’t one for memoirs then?” Maya teases and the vein in your neck pops out. Maya eyes it and wonders how you taste. She wonders if she licks that vein, what noises she’ll get in return.

“I don’t get the game you are playing. But I mean it, I’m not interested.” You say and Maya feels like she knows you well enough in this moment to know you don’t actually mean it. Your voice just doesn’t hold the same venom now.

“Did you read it?” Maya asked and you ground your jaw.

“Yes, Viola Davis is amazing, I thought it was very well written and very moving. Why did you send it?” You say and then wonder why the fuck you are still in her office, with the door closed. Alone with Maya Mason.

“You left the party before I could talk to you again..and you said that thing about double penetration with Viola Davis. So…it was my way of…I wanted to…” Maya trailed off and you both look at each other with such intensity.

But Maya’s door is opened and Matt is holding up a report on marketing that he’d printed out. He’s holding it up and then he eyes you across the room.

Maya grabs the cup full of pens off her desk and chucks it at Matt’s head. He curses as it hits him in the face. Wow, she had great aim.

Blood quickly squirts out of Matt’s nose like he’s a pierced Capri Sun. He cups his face and drops the pages and they go fluttering to the floor.

“MAYA WHAT THE FUCK! OW! I’M BLEEDING!”

Wow Matt bleeds a lot, is he on blood thinners you wonder. Realizing Matt is an only child, because he couldn’t take a hit. You however had brothers, and you learned how to take a punch by the age of seven. You realize you should help your boss…or feel bad?

“HAVE YOU NEVER HEARD OF KNOCKING? GET OUT! GET OUT!” Maya screams and you try not to laugh as she goes feral. This was the Maya you’d heard so much about. Short tempered and unpredictable, ready to set someone on fire if they got her coffee order wrong.

Not the gentle looks you’d been receiving, book club conversations, white knight, and romcom hobbyist. You kinda liked watching this actually. Maya wasn’t just prince charming, she was…well Maya Mason. Not a fucking nail unbedazzled or wrinkle in her outfit as she wounded the head of the studio.

You couldn’t help but chuckle as Matt used his hideous tie to dab at his now bleeding nose. But he turns out of the office and his tie and shirt have giant blood stains on them.

Maya walks after him and you wonder if she’s going to apologize but she slams the door.

You can’t help but make a joke.

“I didn’t knock either, is that what happens if I don’t knock next time?” You tease, knowing you should feel bad for enjoying this so much. Matt was innocent and didn’t deserve it, but it was hilarious.

“No, I like you. I want to go out with you. Fuck I’m trying to woo you here! Besides don’t pity the twat. This is far from the first time I’ve told Matt to respect the closed door. And if I’m in the middle of a meeting and my door is closed you just…open it. Come in, okay Austen?” Maya says and her hair is a little wilder than before. You wonder if she even realized how honest she was being.

“Okay.” You say the word slowly, like you are trying to process all of that. And you don’t know why you feel like you are going to blush.

“Okay.” Maya repeats she takes in the sight of you, your outfit makes her want you. The hair not in your ponytail is begging to be placed behind your ear.

You both stare at each other and you walk around her desk to pick up the thrown book. You are extremely aware that Maya is staring at your ass as you bend over. But it doesn’t piss you off how you’d like it to. It feels like flattery, which makes you feel like a stupid teenager.

After you pick up the book you make your way to the door and Maya goes to grab your wrist, to stop you but you throw open the door and walk out. Your signature black boots clicking on the marble floor.

“Are you free tonight? I’ll take you to that new sushi place on Sunset!” Maya yells for the whole floor to hear. You flip her the bird from behind, you but don’t turn around.

“Not happening Mason!”

Maya smiles as she watches you put a little more sway into your hips. But her phone starts to ring and she knows it’s HR. She’s going to get another complaint filed against her and she rolls her eyes but goes to answer it.

_______________

The next day Maya is at Matt’s house for a party. She looks all over for you, but doesn’t find her gorgeous and tortured Jane Austen sitting in a corner surrounded by pretty Mommy actresses.

Maya tries not to pout as she goes over to her group of executives. Knowing she’s here on business. Not wanting to spend time at the lame venue longer than needed.

Patty gives her a shitty mixed drink that Matt is serving. There’s a theme to the party but it got lost somewhere. Maya takes a sip and tastes vanilla vodka and Malibu rum with a little bit of pineapple juice. It’s fucking gross.

But Maya sees the alternative is what Patty is drinking.

Which is a play on Sangria..only for some reason it’s 75 percent fruit in her glass. And she keeps spitting out chunks of rancid mushy old fruit into a napkin.

Sal is high as fuck. Matt is trying to get anyone around him to get Zoe Kravitz to come to his party. From the looks of it, everyone at the party either works for the studio. Or is a B level celebrity.

Maya thought she’d seen Luke Wilson but it was actually the Wilson’s youngest cousin. It was a pitiful party and Maya was counting down the minutes until she could leave.

“Patty I’ll give you a fucking raise if you get Kravitz here!” Matt tried and then eyed Maya.

“Where is your girlfriend? Can you call her? We need a big name!” He says and Maya has seen this look from him before. It’s that desperate need for be cool to others, it’s nasty to be around.

“Haven’t you heard, Maya can’t get a date! So it it just sex then?” Quinn asks coming out of nowhere and Patty and Maya both grimace at her drunken state.

“Of course it’s not just sex! Maya is in love. And our young Austen is the queen of romance. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were already picking out vacation homes. You guys u-haul it last weekend?” Patty jokes but everyone belies it as the truth.

Maya sips her gross drink before putting it onto a passing survey’s tray to get rid of it.

“Matt I’m sure someone will show eventually.” Maya says not willing to tell the reality of her love life, she wanted what they said to be the truth.

“You really believe that? You think your girl will show?” Matt said excited and Maya smirked.

“Of course not. But HR said I can’t make you cry again this quarter without getting a pay cut.” Maya said and the whole group laughed, except Matt who checked his phone again.

“Patty don’t you have Al Pacino’s number from when you used to give him blow jobs?” Matt asks and Patty is chewing a grape from her weird drink. She chuckles at the memory.

“He’s 85 Matty. You want a repeat of Vegas? You wanna see if you can kill him with mushrooms.” She taunts and everyone finds that entertaining.

Maya can’t help but chuckle with the group at that memory.

“Why didn’t you ask me? I’m your best friend!” Sal said and he takes Pattys drink and throws it on his chest.

Yeah he was really high. Patty just looks relieved she doesn’t need to keep eating the fruit salad.

“You don’t have anyone’s phone number. You once told me you were fucking Brie Larson. You are a liar!” Quinn said and Patty looked at her concerned that she may have got her drink spiked. She was sweating and being very blunt.

“She knows we got to second base! Besides; I have everyone’s phone number. I got Brad’s Pitt’s phone number and even Anthony Hopkins Fax number!” Sal brags and opens a small container of cocaine.

He looks around for a surface and then goes to the bar.

Maya arches an eyebrow and makes her move; she corners him at the end of the bar as he pulls out a rolled up fifty to use to snort.

“Sal, I need a phone number.”

He leans down and does his line before using his finger to rub the excess on his gums.

He eyes Maya for a minute like she’s a unicorn before realizing what she’s saying.

“Your girlfriend need to get in touch with Sally Fields. Get it cuz you both are old and have dark hair? She has a type!” He jokes and Maya tries to remain non homicidal to him.

“Will you get me Austen’s phone number?”

“You don’t have your own girls number? Oh shit is she such a romcom queen you gotta like..send her letters or something? Or oh, did you get in trouble again and she changed it! That would suck! Is that why everyone said she won’t go out to eat with you?”

Maya focused on box breathing. Sal had already decided on the idea of payment as she tried not to set him on fire with her lighter.

“Wow, Maya. I wonder what I want.” He pulled the coke out again and put it on the glass bar.

Maya was planning his demise, and her alibi. But she focused on counting down from five trying to not reach across and slap the phone out of his hand and then take out his eye with one of the appetizer toothpicks.

Sal got an idea before doing another line, holding up his finger like he found the holy grail. Maya was sure he wasn’t Harrison Ford and he had not.

“Ooh how about like a blank check as they used to say in old Hollywood?. I want you to owe me a favor!” Sal says through his coked out mind and Maya doesn’t like that. She grew up around the mafia, she knew better.

Maya leaned in and took her phone out. She used the passcode on one of her secret apps. Sal’s face fell as he looked at the screen.

“How about this? You give me her number or I’ll show the entire party the video of you getting a golden shower at Angela Lansbury’s Easter party from Bette Midler and Mark Warburg. How does that sound? I believe I saw a projector in the main room, I can’t wait to tell everyone it’s movie time! Do you thing we can connect the Bose speakers?” Maya taunts and her face is so excited and Sal is shaking his head. But her finger hovers of the play button.

“Fuck no! I opened my mouth the whole time…Please ok I’m sorry! Fuck I didn’t know you had that! You are so scary! Jesus!” Sal grabs his phone out of his tux jacket and scrolls. He reads the digits out and Maya quickly adds them to her phone.

Sal runs away and Maya grabs the drink he ordered and downs it in two gulps. Phone sitting in her manicured nails like a sacred prize of war.

To be continued. ...

#fanfic #fanfiction #kathryn hahn #ao3 fanfic #maya mason x reader #maya mason #the studio fanfic

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