#venice boardwalk

[lascitasdelashoras]

Ed Sievers - Venice Boardwalk, CA, 1970's

[bayledesign]

[raurquiz]

#HappyBirthday #charliecox #Actor #MattMurdock #daredevil #thedefenders #SpiderMan #nowayhome #SheHulkAttorneyatLaw #echo #DaredevilBornAgain #themerchantofvenice #stardust #ThereBeDragons #hellocarter #TheTheoryofEverything #kingofthieves #BoardwalkEmpire #kin #Treason @streammaxla @marvelstudios @disneyplusla

[waveys-things]

🛵🖤✂️🖇️🌟.

[dre-dayyy]

A day at Venice

[jeseniasgoodiebag]

Travel Destination x California's Venice Canals And Beach

📷 @jeseniasgoodiebag

📝 https://wp.me/pWTqQ-8Pr

[warmsierramist]

need to smoke a $300 joint

[gamechangershow]

No kings in this country! ...except a few of the nice people we found walking along the Venice Beach Boardwalk 👑

Watch the full Game Changer episode on Dropout

[hollywood-love]

📍SoCal Coastline is LitUp🌊

From golden hour at El Matador to sunrise yoga in Santa Monica – LA’s coastline isn’t just stunning, it’s a content creator’s paradise. 📸

Want to take your feed to the next level? Try these spots: 📍 El Matador Beach – dramatic cliffs + dreamy lighting = IG gold 📍 Venice Beach Boardwalk – street art, skaters, and wild vibes (check out our podcast- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9YQs87Hw3-o) 📍 Point Dume – panoramic ocean views & peaceful escape 📍 Malibu Pier – classic Cali VIBES with a touch of luxury

🎥 Pro tip: Early mornings = fewer crowds + softer light. 💡 Create reels, time-lapses, or just post with the waves.

Your next viral post might just be waiting by the Pacific. 🌴

📍SoCal Coastline is LitUp🌊

From golden hour at El Matador to sunrise yoga in Santa Monica – LA’s coastline isn’t just stunning, it’s a content creator’s paradise. 📸

Want to take your feed to the next level? Try these spots: 📍 El Matador Beach – dramatic cliffs + dreamy lighting = IG gold 📍 Venice Beach Boardwalk – street art, skaters, and wild vibes (check out our podcast- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9YQs87Hw3-o) 📍 Point Dume – panoramic ocean views & peaceful escape 📍 Malibu Pier – classic Cali VIBES with a touch of luxury

🎥 Pro tip: Early mornings = fewer crowds + softer light. 💡 Create reels, time-lapses, or just post with the waves.

Your next viral post might just be waiting by the Pacific. 🌴

#LACoastVibes#ContentByTheCoast#CaliforniaDreaming#InfluencerCulture#LAlife#instagrammable#REALLA#californialife#goexplore#urbanexploration

[ratrodstudios2]

Waves, Walls, and Waking Light ..............

This AI-generated image captures a serene morning scene along the iconic Venice Beach boardwalk in Los Angeles, California. The palm trees cast long shadows over the sunlit pavement, while the pastel-colored buildings and storefronts reflect the warmth of the rising sun. With the ocean calmly stretching to the horizon and just a few early risers in the distance, the artwork evokes a peaceful, almost nostalgic atmosphere. Rendered with a painterly style, the image balances vibrant detail with a soft, dreamy texture reminiscent of oil on canvas.

Greeting Cards By Bob Kramer https://artist.greetingcarduniverse.com/bobkramer

Art By Bob Kramer https://fineartamerica.com/profiles/3-bob-kramer

Art By Bob Kramer https://www.redbubble.com/people/BobKramer1/shop?asc=u

Rat Rod Studios https://www.cafepress.com/ratrodstudios/17350621

[rjacobsonmedia]

"Rentals"

••

Shop Here!!

https://www.redbubble.com/shop/ap/170226922

©RJacobsonMedia

[yuh13lo]

𖤐 I won’t C.S.

You knew—you knew—wearing your brand new Doc Martens on an all-day adventure with the Sturniolo boys was a terrible idea. But they looked so good with your outfit, and you figured, How bad could it be?

Turns out: very, very bad.

By hour seven of walking across half of Los Angeles—between vintage shopping in Silverlake, exploring pop-ups on Fairfax, a spontaneous walk along the Venice boardwalk and a late lunch where you stood in line for 45 minutes—your feet were throbbing, your shoulders were tight, and you could practically feel the blisters forming.

Now, you were back at the boys’ apartment, slumped dramatically on the couch, one boot off and tossed across the room, the other halfway unlaced. Chris sat beside you, legs spread out in front of him, scrolling on his phone with his usual easy grin. Matt was digging through the kitchen, and Nick was fiddling with the TV remote.

“My feet are actually dead,” you groaned, head flopping against the arm of the couch like you were auditioning for a tragic play.

“Told you those boots were a pain in the ass ,” Matt called from the kitchen. “I literally warned you.”

“Yeah, well, your version of ‘adventure’ was a leisurely stroll, not a three-day trek across the Sahara,” you muttered, peeling off the second boot with a hiss.

Chris glanced over and winced in sympathy. “You okay?”

“No,” you said flatly. “My feet hate me. My back hates me. Even my eyelids are sore.”

“You want me to rub your feet?” he offered casually, eyes still on his phone.

Your head snapped up. “Absolutely not. That’s disgusting. My feet are sweaty, and gross, and angry, and no one should have to touch them.”

Chris glanced at you, one brow raised. “I mean… I offered. You don’t have to make them sound like possessed creatures.”

“They are!”

Matt returned, a bottle of Gatorade in one hand and a judgmental look on his face. “Okay, drama queen. Here’s what’s happening—you’re gonna go take a bath, like right now. You’ve been whining about your body hurting since we left that pop-up bookstore.”

“I was carrying three tote bags,” you argued.

“You insisted you didn’t need help,” Nick added from the floor, flipping through Netflix options.

“Because I didn’t want to look weak!” you defended.

Chris snorted. “You looked like a gremlin hunched over.”

“Okay, rude. But fine,” you huffed, swinging your legs off the couch with a wince. “Bath. Whatever.”

You padded to the bathroom slowly, muttering to yourself as you went.

Fifteen minutes later, you were soaking in the tub, surrounded by bubbles and the vague smell of lavender. You hadn’t planned to relax that much—but the warmth had melted into your muscles fast, and soon, your eyes were fluttering shut.

By the time you emerged in Chris’s oversized hoodie and some borrowed sweatpants, your hair damp and your face flushed from the heat, you felt a tiny bit better—but your feet were still throbbing with every step.

Chris was waiting on the couch with a blanket draped over his lap and a suspiciously innocent look on his face.

“What?” you asked cautiously.

He patted his lap. “C’mere.”

“I swear if you try to rub my feet—”

“I am going to rub your feet.”

“No, Chris, seriously, don’t—”

“I don’t care,” he said with a smirk. “You’re hurting. I want to help.”

You stared at him, speechless. He held his arms out expectantly.

Nick, from the floor, didn’t even look up. “Just let him do it so he’ll stop staring at you like a golden retriever begging for attention.”

You narrowed your eyes at both of them, then sighed deeply, hobbling over and plopping onto the couch. “Fine. But if you gag, or laugh, or even flinch, I’m kicking you.”

Chris took your ankles gently and pulled them into his lap. “Deal.”

His fingers started working over your feet, slow and careful. And despite every single protest you’d made, it was heaven. His thumbs pressed into your arches just right, and you had to bite your lip to stop from groaning out loud.

“See?” he said smugly, glancing up. “Not so bad.”

“Shut up.”

“You’re welcome,” he added, rubbing smaller circles at your heel. “Also, I think you owe me at least a month of letting me pick where we go for lunch.”

“That’s not how this works,” you said, eyes fluttering closed.

Matt passed by the couch on his way to the kitchen again and did a double-take. “Whoa. You really let him touch the dogs?”

“She didn’t let me,” Chris said proudly. “I convinced her.”

“She’s too tired to fight back,” Nick muttered, tossing a pillow at your knee. “This is just learned helplessness.”

But you didn’t care. Chris was grinning. You were warm, wrapped in a blanket, half-asleep, and being completely doted on.

Docs: destroyed.

Body: aching.

Chris: worth every step.

You peeked at him through your lashes and whispered, “Thanks for taking care of me.”

He smiled down at you, pressing a kiss to your ankle. “Always.”

✦ join my taglist⭐️

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[austinbutlerslovers]

Good Girl Gone Bad

Label Mature 18+

Summary Away from home settling in a new country to start college, you find solace in a handsome stranger. The connection is instant, a bond forming faster than you ever imagined, but just when everything feels safe he pulls you into a situation far more complicated than it first seemed, and suddenly, nothing about your new life is simple anymore.

Based on the intro to the film Grease. A new girl moves to America from Sydney to start school. She meets a biker boy over summer and they fall for each other, only for her to feel confused when he pretends it didn’t happen.

❤️‍🔥Passionate Smut❤️‍🔥 New girl in a new town • innocent • naive • shy• soft spoken• lacking boundaries • trusting • forming a crush • lured • coercion •dub con• oral on fem • fingering • size kink • overstimulation • P in V •used for gratification • multiple orgasms • protection • after care

🔗 Masterlist

📖 Proof reader @aust-een 🎉 Thank you for voting! That was so fast!

Good Girl Gone Bad

The Los Angeles sun blazes over Venice Beach, casting golden light across the sand. You spread your towel near the water’s edge, where the waves crash in a steady rhythm, drowning out the chatter of locals and the hum of skateboard wheels on the boardwalk. 

You’re a long way from Sydney Australia on your first trip to America, where you’ll be staying all summer in a pastel-yellow vacation rental before you begin college in California for fall.

Your navy bikini feels daring to wear out as shy and soft-spoken as you are, but the sun demands it. You lie on your back, flipping through a worn copy of The Age of Innocence, your hair fanning out over the towel, skin tingling as the heat seeps in.

After reading a chapter you roll on your stomach to tan evenly, your hair spilling over one shoulder as you flip another page. The curve of your back arches gently, feeling the sheen of your skin kissed by the sun, as you settle.

You don’t even notice him at first, the tall biker returning to his black Harley parked near the bike path.

As you glance up at him, his leather jacket is slung over one shoulder, a white t-shirt clinging to his frame. His sunglasses shield his eyes, but you can still feel his gaze, steady and casual, like you’re the only thing worth watching on the beach.

You brush it off, so far Venice Beach teems with characters, and he’s probably just people-watching.

You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and dive back into your book feeling your body warm from the last strong rays of sun, and as the light softens to a peachy glow across the sand, you decide to pack up.

Standing up you pull on your sundress, and collect your towel, tucking it folded under your arm. As you walk from the sand to the palm-lined bike path, you dig in your bag grabbing your phone for an Uber before you hear someone approaching you.

“Hey, hold up.” The voice is low, smooth, with a drawl that doesn’t quite fit LA.

You turn, and there he stands, the biker. Up close, he towers over you, lean and solid, his sandy brown hair tousled from the wind. Without his sunglasses, his eyes are piercing and vividly blue, like the Pacific Ocean as they lock on yours.

Your breath catches as you recognize his face. He’s Austin Butler, the actor. You’ve seen him on screen, but in person, he’s sharper, more real, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt you,” he says, placing his hands in his pockets, head tilting slightly. “Just figured I’d say hi before you disappeared.”

You clutch your towel tighter, caught in his stunning blue eyes that seem to see right through you, your breath hitching as a flush creeps up your neck.

“Oh, um… hi,” you manage, your voice barely functioning as your gaze traces his striking features, and the way his smirk softens as he looks at you makes your knees weak.

He speaks smoothly, his tone warm and reassuring. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

You shake your head smiling as you force yourself to meet his eyes. “No, I’m not I’m from Sydney, Australia.”

His grin shifts into something genuine as his eyes light up with recognition. “No way, I lived there a few years back, Bondi Beach, the coffee shops on Oxford Street, the way the harbor sparkles at night… some of the most transformative years of my life.” He admits casually, his gaze drifting slowly over you as his voice drops just a little. “You’ve got that Sydney glow, you know. Hard to miss.”

Your grin deepens your face warming with a blush as you glance down, fidgeting with the towel in your hands. “Thank you…,” you say bashfully, your voice barely above the hush of the waves behind you.

“I’m Austin, by the way.” He says extending a hand, and as you take it in yours, his grip is warm and firm as you introduce yourself.

“How about I show you around. You can’t leave Cali without knowing the good spots.” He offers.

You blink up at him, surprised by his kindness. “I… I don’t know. I was just calling an Uber to head back—”

“Come with me.” He smiles, equal parts charm and mischief. “I��ll treat you to something American.”

A laugh escapes you, surprising yourself, and his smirk widens. “Okay,” you say, barely believing it. “But just for a little while.”

He gestures you to his Harley, and once there, he opens the seat, handing you a helmet. He slips his on at the same time as you, tilting his head with a grin. “First time on a bike?” he asks, his voice low and teasing.

“Yeah,” you admit with a shy nod, fumbling with the strap. He steps closer, adjusting it so the helmet fits just right, his fingers brushing your chin as he chuckles softly. “You’ll love it,” he says confidently.

You climb on behind him as you hesitate, your hands hovering before lightly settling around his waist.

“Hold on tight,” he says, tilting his head to glance back at you through his helmet visor, and as you press against him, fully wrapping your arms around his waist, you bite back a smile holding him close.

The bike roars to life, and you peel away from the lot, the wind whipping through your hair as Venice blurs past, neon signs flickering to life, palm trees swaying, andthe endless stretch of ocean glinting in the dusk.

Instead of heading into town, he takes you down the coastal highway before slowing in a hillside residential area. He stops in front of a large sleek two-story beach house with glass walls and a wraparound deck.

Your stomach twists with nerves as you both remove your helmets, having just met him and now heading into a house together, but as he pulls his key from the bike’s ignition, he flashes you a warm disarming smile, you find yourself following him in without hesitation.

Inside, the place smells of fresh cedar and leather, all modern lines and open space. A vintage acoustic guitar leans against one wall, a stack of scripts sits on the living room table.

He leads you to the kitchen, all stainless steel, with wide windows, showcasing an ocean view stretching out like a painting.

“You hungry?” he asks, glancing over with a half-smile. “Yeah,” you say, your voice soft. “Come help me cook,” he says, and you smile, nerves easing a little.

“You’ll be my assistant,” he says, handing you a knife with a playful wink. “Let’s make you an American classic.”

You watch as he pulls ingredients from the fridge, ground beef, buns lettuce and tomatoes. He moves with easy confidence, his blue eyes flicking to yours as he speaks. “So what brings a Sydney girl to Venice?” He says as he rolls you a tomato.

You begin slicing into it as he heats a skillet. “I’ve never been to America before, just wanted to get a feel for it before starting college in the fall.” you admit.

“Smart move,” he says, watching you with a steady gaze. “What are you majoring in?”

You pause, knife hovering over the cutting board. “Well..I’ll be majoring in theater because..I want to be an actress.”

His eyebrows lift, a slow smile spreading across his face. “An actress?“ he says with enthusiasm. “That’s my entire world.”

He flips the burger patty, the sizzle filling the air. “You’ve got the look, those beautiful , honest eyes. Casting directors are gonna eat that up.”

Your cheeks flush, as you try to focus on cutting the tomato evenly, “You’re just saying that.”

“I mean it,” he says, his voice softer. “You’ve got something real, I can feel it.”

Your gaze keeps drifting over to him as he works. His handsome face, his sharp jawline, his tousled sandy brown hair framing his features just right.

He’s captivating and as you watch the way he moves with ease and confidence to match, you get it, you understand why he’s famous. There’s a magnetism to him that’s mesmerizing, like every motion is a scene he’s mastered

You work together, assembling the buns with juicy patties, stacking them with ripe tomatoes and crisp lettuce, then you sit at the dining room table together, eating the burgers, messy, delicious, and perfect.

The sun sinks below the horizon, leaving a trail of purple and gold as he leans back in his chair, his blue eyes glinting in the twilight as he studies you. “So, as an actress? What kind of roles would you be pursuing?”

You take a sip of water, gathering your courage. “I want to play someone… brave. Someone who changes things. I’ve always been quiet, you know? Shy. Acting feels like a way to be more.”

He nods, his expression softening, a flicker of something deeper in his eyes. “You’re braver than you think coming out here solo.”

You smile, small but genuine. “Maybe you’re right. It is getting late, I should definitely be back in my Airbnb by now.” you admit.

He stands up, a spark in his grin, “Let me show you one more thing,” he says extending his hand, and you take it without hesitation.

You let him lead you up the stairs to the second floor, then the third, where he pushes open a door to a reveal a rooftop deck.

It’s immaculate with a plush daybed, a fire pit, a basket of blankets, a barbecue, a bar, a mini fridge. “Wow,” you breathe, seeing the panoramic view stretching from the coast to the city.

You place your hands on the railing, letting the wind kiss your skin as you stare out at the vibrant glow of the sunset. “It’s so pretty,” you say smiling, and he joins you, resting his forearms on the railing as he watches you take it in.

“If you’re really serious about becoming an actress, I can get you to the right people,” he says, his voice low and steady, cutting through the salty breeze.

Then it hits you, he’s Austin Butler. He knows all the higher ups in Hollywood, and your entire life could change just from this moment, like a direct line to your future clicking into place.

You pull off the railing, meeting his gaze, the weight of his offer heavy in your eyes. “I’d like that very much,” you say, your breath quickening.

He rises, stepping closer, his smile warm as he faces you, his blue eyes filled with admiration. He looks over your features, tracing the curve of your jaw, the flush in your cheeks, the way your hair catches the last light.

“Hollywood’s a different town,” he says, his voice low and infectious. “It doesn’t always work out for most people, it’s really not what you know, it’s who you know.” He admits, and as the moment lingers, your smile mirrors his own as the sunset fades to a soft purple haze, and then he leans in and kisses you.

Your breath catches, lips parting in shock as his mouth moves over yours, steady and warm, his hands sliding up your arms, drawing you in effortlessly before you even think of pulling back.

His hands glide smoothly down your back, thumbs tracing up your hips, until your thoughts dissolve into a haze.

He kisses you in a rhythm until your lost in it, his tongue slipping past your lips, smooth and sure, tracing against yours with a slow, teasing stroke that makes your stomach flip.

Your hands grip his waist, fingers digging in as your pulse hammers, a dizzy rush flooding your senses until you’re unsteady in his hold completely overtaken by him.

You never expected this, you don’t even know what this is, and as he pulls back, his forehead resting against yours, breaths mingling heavily, you’re overwhelmed with a rush of arousal you’ve never felt before, wanting immediately to give in, yet desperately needing to hold back.

He guides you down onto the large daybed with ease, your chest rising and falling quickly as he lowers himself, kissing down your body, your words catching in your throat as he tugs your bikini down your hips, your eyes widening in disbelief.

You should stop him, you should do something, but as he spreads your legs and his mouth settles on you, it’s already too late.

You pant heavily as he works his mouth and tongue on you, torn between wanting him to stop and surrendering to him completely.

Your heartbeat thunders, thoughts spiraling, you’ve made yourself so easy, what does he think of you now? But as you glance down at him, his eyes are closed in bliss, lashes fluttering against his cheeks, his beautiful mouth moving over you with care. He’s focused entirely on savoring you, and your body softens, the tension melting as you relax into his skill.

Your head falls back as his tongue flicks just right, and your hips twitch as he splays his palm gently on your stomach, calming you as you give in.

Sparks explode behind your eyes, small whimpers escaping your lips as arousal floods through you, and the pleasure rises higher and faster until your legs press against his head. His hands caress up your hips and down your thighs steadying you as you shudder, moaning in the air, hips rocking against his mouth as you start to come.

Pleasure and heat surge together as your core clenches tight and then snaps with a euphoric release, and you cry out feeling a rush of relief wash over you, leaving you in peaceful bliss.

As the intensity fades your core throbs as you try to catch your breath and regain your senses.

Austin sits up, pulling his white shirt over his head, abs catching the light as he unbuttons his jeans. You know you should say something, you know you should get up, but as you try he easily settles over you, laying you back down.

Concern flickers in your eyes in a silent surrender as his thumb strokes your jaw. “What’s the matter?” he whispers, searching your face with a gentle smile.

“I…I…don’t know,” you pant, your words scattered and incoherent as his hand trails down your side and carefully pushes between your thighs.

His fingers press against your soaked clit, drawing a loud sound from you, and his mouth finds yours again, your eyes squeezing shut tight as he pushes two fingers inside you.

He pulls back from the kiss, watching as you gasp softly, brows knitting as his fingers reach a depth that’s aching to be touched and you fall into his rhythm sinking deeper as he thrusts faster.

Tears well in your eyes as the knot in your stomach tightens and you’re not sure if it’s from the pleasure or the intensity of what he’s doing, but you don’t stop him.

Your mind hazes as his lips return to yours, his open-mouthed kisses pulling you deeper, his fingers thrusting inside coaxing small sounds from you as you near release again, and you squeeze your eyes shut tighter as he makes you come.

He kisses your neck softly as you moan beneath him, completely spent as he slowly removes his fingers from you.

He shifts his weight, bracing one hand at your side as he lowers his jeans down his legs, and your eyes snap open, watching as his heavy cock slides free, thick and intimidating.

He reaches into the pocket of his jeans, pulling out a condom before kicking them off.

You swallow hard as he brings the packet between his teeth, tearing it open, then sliding the condom all the way on his large rigid cock.

Uneasiness sinks in as he settles back on top of you, his gaze meeting your wide-eyed, vulnerable look as his thumb brushes your cheek. “What’s the matter,” he asks softly, his heat pressing against you.

Your uncertainty swirls. “I don’t know,” you whisper, sharp and hushed as his fingers trace your hairline with adoration, his blue eyes steadily taking you in. “I want you,” he says with certainty, his expression softening. “The moment I saw you, I knew.”

You want him too, but everything is happening too sudden, too fast.

“I want to make your dreams come true,” he says, searching your eyes. “You want that, don’t you?” He asks gently, and your resistance slips as you whisper, “Yes,” your breath shaky.

He pulls you closer, kissing down your jaw. “Good,” he murmurs, nudging your legs apart, his cock pressing at your entrance. “Let me make your dreams come true,” he says as he kisses up your neck, and your eyes flutter shut as you surrender.

He pushes in, and your body locks tight, the pressure of his cock filling you as your walls tense around him. You squeal, feet pushing against the cushions, hands gripping the fabric as he kisses down your neck murmuring, “You’re so good,” waiting as you adjust before easing deeper until he’s fully inside.

Your hands tremble as they finally slide up his back, his broad shoulders flexing with each thrust and he pulls back, his eyes locking with yours as his heavy cock glides against your slick walls.

You moan in pleasure, everything about him is perfect, your thighs are soaked, the wet smacking of his thrusts hypnotic as you look into his eyes in disbelief at how good he feels.

Soft, breathy sounds escape your lips as each move jolts you, his sharp sounds of pleasure matching the spasms of your walls on his cock as your moans spill freely, addicted to the feeling.

His slick cock thrusts deep, hitting a spot that draws a loud, almost pained moan from you, as the pleasure becomes overwhelming.

You plead incoherently as your hands slide up to clutch the back of his neck, foreheads pressed together as you look between your bodies.

You watch his cock plunge in deep with every hard thrust and your eyes squeeze shut, feeling the tightness build in your core until it snaps and desperate gasps and moans spill from you as you come.

He grunts, the sound harsher as his need takes over, and he picks up the pace, rocking into you with relentless force.

His hips clap between yours, thrusting deep with his thick unyielding cock stretching you wide. You lose your mind, sobbing and clawing down his back, nails digging into his skin as he moves against you, each thrust sending a shuddering jolt through your core.

His body locks as he comes, his breathy sounds fueling you as his cock twitches inside, a deep “Mmmmm” vibrating from his chest as he tilts his head back, spilling into the condom. He lazily thrusts a few more times before a shiver runs down his back and he slowly pulls out.

You lay panting and dazed, as he lifts off of you and carefully removes the condom. He ties it tight before tossing it into a small bin, then he grabs a warm blanket from the basket, draping it over you both, before pressing a small remote.

The fire pit roars to life in front of you, its glow bright against the evening sky and as he rests against the throw cushions, he pulls you up to lay on his chest.

The warmth of his body, the blanket, and the fire wrap around you as your thoughts drift away, your mind getting lost in the dance of the blue flames in a trance.

He tilts your chin up to make you look into his eyes. “You okay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you say weakly, still reeling from the intensity of it all.

“You can’t tell anyone about this,” he says, his tone serious, searching your eyes as a pang of guilt and confusion hits you.

“Okay,” you whisper, wondering what this even means to him.

The complications begin to swirl in your mind about your future, your college, and especially him. You begin to wonder if the carefree and kind Austin you met at the beach was genuine or if this was all just a lure to get you here to sleep with him.

You whimper, trying to get up but he stops you. “What’s wrong?” he asks.

Unable to meet his eyes you exhale shakily. “I should go,” the shame of your actions eating you alive.

“You’re staying” he smiles, pulling you back against him and he kisses you soft and slow, surrendering you into the unknown, changing your life forever.

END 🏍️

🔗 Masterlist

🏷️ Always Tag Me List @purejasmine @burnthheparaphilia @butdaddyilovehim99 @austinbutlerfly @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler-pascal @lindszeppelin @abswifey @aust-een @umika @feralgodmothers @megangovier @magicovento @obsessedvibee @austiebuttbutt @faegoddessog @dunevitani @unicoo @thejoywillburnoutthepain @jessica987 @slowsweetlove @hardcoredisneynerd @finley-08 @thegabbyh @thefallofthedamned @buckysteveloki-me @bucking-mustangs-with-wings @shegatsby @darlingisntit @lovereadingfanfic @denised916 @shockercoco @minispice-1 @i5uckersblog @ughdontbeboring @meetmeatyourworst @avidreader73 @xxmandaveexx @mamawiggers1980 @12joeywheelerfangirl @imjustheretoreadsmuthaha @gravesdiggergirl @nostalgichoya @stars-remain2 @skulliecadaver-blog @jjubilee-fluff

[moonbils]

soft billie eilish one-shot. best friends, late nights, no forced romance. read it like a memory. ⋆˙⟡

tw: none

Later they would say it was love at first sight,but both knew it was a long road they had to take to get here.

It didn’t start with a spark.

There was no slow-motion glance across a crowded room. No dramatic pause in conversation. No knowing look, no skipped heartbeat.

It started at 4:12 PM, on a Wednesday.

Venice Beach was too loud. Too sunny. Too much. Billie was already sitting on the towel, sunglasses low, iced coffee sweating in her hand. She looked like she wanted to be anywhere else.

You walked up late, holding two iced teas and the kind of tired that sits behind your eyes. You said nothing, handed her one.

She took the wrong one. You didn’t correct her.

- - - - - - - -

“Where’s Finneas?” you asked.

“Over there.” She pointed toward the boardwalk. “On the phone. Pretending to be deep.”

You sat beside her. Close, but not enough to touch.

She looked out at the sea like she was trying to read something hidden in it.

“You ever get tired of being seen?” you asked.

The question fell out of your mouth before you could stop it.

Her face didn’t change. “All the time,” she said. “But not by you.”

- - - - - - - -

She started texting you after that.

Not every day. But enough.

Screenshots. Unfiltered selfies. Voice memos of half-written melodies. Photos of her dog doing nothing in particular.

She never explained why. She didn’t need to.

Sometimes she came over, curled up on your floor like it was easier to exist sideways. Sometimes you watched dumb cartoons. Sometimes she said nothing, and that was fine too.

Billie wasn’t performing when she was with you. And that felt like a secret you were trusted with.

- - - - - - - -

The first time she fell asleep in your bed, it wasn’t romantic.

She was wearing your hoodie, tangled in the blanket wrong, one sock on, one off. Her phone was face down. Her hand was half on your pillow.

You didn’t move her. You just turned off the light and sat on the floor beside her, finishing your tea.

It wasn’t love. Not yet.

But it wasn’t nothing, either.

- - - - - - - -

Months passed.

She blew up a little more. You stayed the same.

She’d disappear for two weeks, then show up at your door with Thai food and no explanation. You never asked. She never offered one.

“Missed you,” was all she’d say.

And that was enough.

- - - - - - - -

One night, you were brushing your teeth when she called.

“What’s your favorite soup?” she asked.

You spat into the sink. “What?”

“Like. If you were sick. Or sad. Or dying. What soup would you want?”

You told her. She hung up.

Three days later, it was waiting on your doorstep. Still warm.

You never brought it up again.

- - - - - - - -

She never said “I love you” the way people expect it.

Not on a rooftop. Not in the middle of a kiss. Not in a song.

She said it like this:

“I feel safe with you.”

And

“You always let me be quiet.”

And once, when she was half-asleep, skin soft with sleep and hair in her face

“You make the noise go away.”

You didn’t say anything back.

You didn’t have to.

- - - - - - - -

Later, they’d say it was love at first sight.

That when Billie Eilish met you, it must’ve been electric. Obvious.

But both of you knew the truth.

It wasn’t sudden. It wasn’t shiny. It didn’t crack the sky open.

It was slow. Earned. Built between text messages and shared fries, quiet glances and mismatched socks. Built in the spaces between fame and fear, in the silences that didn’t need filling.

It was love.

Eventually.

[djkerr]

Jack Abbot getting it done. 🥒🎾

Le Petit Court | Venice Beach Boardwalk | June 4, 2025

📷 CraSH/Shutterstock