justherbert10
justherbert10
JH10
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This blog was made to feed my Justin Herbert obsession...Feel free to join along!!
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justherbert10 · 10 months ago
Text
Masterlist
Justin Herbert
Chance meetings
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justherbert10 · 10 months ago
Text
Chance Meetings
This is my first story! enjoy!
word count: ~3400
The air in the bustling press room of the SoFi Stadium is charged with electricity as the LA Chargers celebrate their latest victory. Justin, the star quarterback, stands tall, his blue eyes scanning the sea of faces, looking for a moment of reprieve from the storm of flashing cameras and eager reporters. His gaze locks onto a figure that seems to glow amidst the chaos—a young woman with y/e/c and y/h/c hair, her smile as radiant as the setting sun. Y/n, a rising star in the world of entertainment and a surprise guest due to her friendship with Formula 1 legend Lewis Hamilton, feels the same magnetic pull. As they are introduced, their hands meet in a firm but gentle handshake, a silent promise of friendship, and perhaps more, in a world that often feels scripted.
"Justin, you make dodging defensive lines look like a cakewalk compared to dodging these paparazzi!" She playfully nudges his arm, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
"Ah, you've got to learn the art of the juke, Y/n," he says with a wink. "But I'd say you're pretty adept at navigating through crowds with that charm of yours." He nods towards the group of star-struck fans that had gathered around her earlier.  The corner of Y/n's mouth twitches upwards in a knowing smile as she leans closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "You think I'm good? You should see me when I'm dodging the plot twists in my next movie script."
Justin chuckles, the sound resonating deep in his chest. "Now that's a game I wouldn't mind watching you play," he says, his eyes twinkling with amusement. He glances around the room, noticing the way people's eyes keep darting in their direction. The whispers and glances from the other attendees don't go unnoticed. "You know, it's crazy how quickly the spotlight finds us," he muses, a hint of wistfulness in his voice. "I miss the days when I could just grab a burger without someone asking for a selfie." He sighs, looking down at his hand wrapped around a bottle of water. "But I guess that's the price we pay for chasing our dreams, right?"
"It definitely has its perks," Y/n agrees, her smile wistful. "But sometimes I just want to be Y/n from Y/h/t again, you know?" She takes a sip of her drink, her eyes scanning the room before returning to Justin's. "So, tell me, how does a small-town boy from Oregon become the heartthrob of LA?"
"Well," Justin says, leaning back slightly, "It's a long story, but it all started with a love for the game and a father who believed in me more than anyone else." He pauses, his gaze drifting momentarily before refocusing on Y/n. "But let's not talk about me. What brings you to the world of football, Y/n?"
"Ah, the world of football," she echoes, her eyes lighting up with enthusiasm. "It's all thanks to Lewis. He's like a father figure to me, and he's been introducing me to his own brand of speed and competition." She smiles warmly at the mention of her mentor. "But honestly, I've always had a soft spot for sports. It's like watching a live-action movie with the most unpredictable plot twists."
Justin nods, understanding the allure of the unpredictable. "Sounds like you've got a taste for the thrill," he says, leaning in slightly, his voice a mix of curiosity and admiration. "You ever get the chance to throw a ball around, or are you strictly an audience kind of girl?" His words are teasing, but there's a genuine interest in his eyes. He's used to people seeing him as the poster boy for the sport, not a regular guy who enjoys a good toss.
"Oh, you'd be surprised," Y/n says, her smile widening as she recounts tales of her impromptu football sessions with Lewis. "He's been trying to teach me the basics, and I've got to say, I'm not half bad." She mimics throwing a perfect spiral, her hand twisting gracefully through the air. "But let's not tell anyone, I wouldn't want to ruin your reputation."
Justin laughs, the sound rich and genuine. "Your secret's safe with me, Y/n. Besides, I've seen enough Hollywood magic to know that anything's possible with the right coach." He leans in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "And if you ever need some tips from the real deal, you know where to find me."
The connection between them is palpable, a silent understanding that they share a common ground of chasing dreams and navigating fame. Y/n's eyes dance with excitement at the prospect of learning from a pro.
 "You know, I might just take you up on that," she says, her voice filled with the excitement of a child offered a secret treat. "But for now, let's enjoy the rest of the night. Maybe we can find a quiet spot where we don't have to whisper over the din of the party?" She glances around the room, her gaze lingering on the crowded space.
"I know just the place," Justin says, his eyes lighting up with a mischievous glint. He motions for her to follow him with a subtle nod of his head. They weave through the throng of people, his hand occasionally brushing against the small of her back, guiding her gently through the sea of bodies.
They arrive at a secluded patio area, the cool evening breeze carrying the faint scent of jasmine from the nearby garden. The noise of the party fades into the background, leaving only the distant murmur of the ocean and the occasional cheer from the die-hard fans watching the post-game analysis on the outdoor screens. Justin pulls out a chair for her, his movements as smooth as the passing plays he's known for. As they sit, their legs brush against each other, sending a shiver of anticipation up Y/n's spine. "This is more my speed," he says with a genuine smile, looking around the quiet space.
Y/n's eyes widen in delight as she takes in the serene surroundings. The twinkling lights strung above cast a soft glow over the patio, creating a cozy haven amidst the cacophony of the event. "It's like stepping into a different world," she whispers, her voice filled with wonder. She runs her fingers along the cool metal of the chair, feeling the gentle vibrations of the distant cheers. As she sits, she crosses her legs, the fabric of her dress whispering against her skin. The sensation of his hand briefly on her back lingers, sending a warmth that spreads through her body. She returns his smile, her heart fluttering at the kindness behind the gesture. "Thank you for this," she says, her eyes meeting his, the blue depths of his irises reminding her of the Pacific she'd seen in photos from his hometown.
Justin pulls out a chair for Y/n with a chivalrous grace that seems almost out of place amidst the flashy glamour of the event. He can't help but feel a swell of pride at her approval, the corners of his mouth curling up into a genuine smile. As they sit, the energy between them shifts, becoming more intimate, more real. He leans back in his chair, the leather creaking softly under his weight, and takes a deep breath, savoring the scent of jasmine that fills the air. "It's the least I could do," he says, his voice low and earnest. "I know how overwhelming these things can get. Sometimes you just need a break from the madness." His gaze holds hers for a moment longer than necessary, the silence stretching out like a tightrope between them. Then, with a shrug of his broad shoulders, he cracks open a beer, the cap flying off with a satisfying hiss. "So, what's your favorite thing about LA?"
"The people," Y/n says without hesitation, her eyes lingering on the horizon where the stadium lights bleed into the night sky. "Everyone's got a story, a dream they're chasing. It's like the whole city's alive with possibility." She takes a sip of her drink, the cool liquid a welcome contrast to the warmth of the evening. "But I miss the quiet nights back home, where you can hear the crickets and the rustle of leaves." She looks at him, curiosity piqued. "What about you, Justin? What do you miss most about Oregon?"
"The rain," Justin says with a nostalgic smile, his eyes reflecting the distant twinkle of the stars. "There's something about the way it sounds on the roof, the smell of wet earth, and the quiet that follows. It's like the world's hushing itself so you can hear your own thoughts." He takes a swig of his beer, the foam clinging to his upper lip for a moment before he wipes it away with the back of his hand. "But LA has its moments. The ocean, the palm trees...it's got its own kind of magic."
The conversation flows easily between them, their shared experiences of leaving small towns for the big city creating a bond that feels both familiar and exciting. The sound of their laughter intertwines with the distant murmur of the party, creating a symphony of shared secrets and new beginnings.
The moment is shattered by the sudden appearance of Joey, his towering frame silhouetted by the light spilling from the party inside. His boisterous laughter fills the night air as he claps Justin on the shoulder, a knowing smirk playing across his face. "Well, well, well," he says, his eyes dancing with mischief. "Looks like someone's finally decided to take my advice and snag themselves a date." Justin rolls his eyes, but the warmth in his cheeks betrays his embarrassment. Y/n laughs, the sound like the tinkling of glass bells, and shakes her head. "You two really are like brothers," she says, playfully swatting at Joey's hand. "Could you at least pretend to be subtle?" Joey just chuckles, his eyes flicking between the two of them before he settles into the chair next to Justin, his grin unabashed. "So, what's the story here?" he asks, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest. "Or is it too early for me to start planning the wedding?"
Justin's cheeks redden slightly as he tries to brush off Joey's teasing. "It's not a date," he mumbles, his voice gruff. But the smile that tugs at his lips gives him away. Y/n giggles, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves," she says, playfully nudging Joey's arm. "We're just two friends enjoying a quiet night amidst the madness." Joey winks at her, his blond hair catching the light. "Friends, huh?" He leans back in his chair, a smug look on his face. "Well, if you say so. But if you ever need a best man, I'm your guy." The air between Justin and Y/n crackles with unspoken tension as they share a look that speaks volumes about the depth of their connection.
The playful banter between Justin and Joey brings a blush to Y/n's cheeks, but she quickly recovers, her laughter as bright as the stars above. She playfully swats at Joey's arm. "You're terrible," she says, though the smile on her face tells a different story. "But I'm surprised you noticed. Usually, you're too busy breaking defensive lines to care about my social life."
Joey's grin stretches from ear to ear as he takes a seat next to Justin, his eyes gleaming with mischief. He nudges Justin with his elbow, his voice a playful rumble. "Finally," he says, waggling his eyebrows. "I've been waiting for you to find someone who can keep up with your fast pace, both on and off the field." He winks at Y/n, his blue eyes twinkling with a hint of teasing. "And let me tell you, Justin here is the king of slow plays. But I see the way you two look at each other, and it's like watching a highlight reel of a perfect game." He laughs, slapping his knee. "I'd say it's about time you scored a touchdown in the love department, buddy."
Justin's eyes dart to Y/n, his cheeks reddening further. He playfully shoves Joey's shoulder, trying to deflect the attention. "You're one to talk, Joey," he counters, his voice tight with a mix of embarrassment and amusement. "Remember that time you tried to woo the mayor's daughter with your 'world-famous' pancake recipe?" The memory brings a round of laughter to the trio, breaking the tension.
"Oh no," Y/n gasps dramatically, her eyes widening. "What happened?" She leans in, eager for the juicy details, her curiosity piqued by the sudden shift in the conversation.
Justin's eyes widen in mock horror as Joey crashes into the conversation, his cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red. He playfully swats at his friend's massive arm, trying to shoo him away like a pesky fly. "It's not a date," he protests, his voice a little too loud. His heart races in his chest as he feels the weight of Joey's words, the truth behind the teasing. But he can't deny the thrill that runs through him at the thought of it being true. He glances at Y/n, her laughter lighting up her face, and feels a warmth spread through him that has nothing to do with the beer. "You're just jealous because you can't handle a night without making headlines," he says, his voice tinged with affectionate sarcasm. Joey just laughs, not bothered in the slightest by the jab.
Y/n's laughter is like a summer breeze, light and airy, filling the quiet corner of the patio with a gentle warmth. She watches the playful banter between the two friends with an amused smile, her Y/e/c eyes sparkling. She's used to being the center of attention, but there's something refreshing about being part of this unscripted moment. When Joey finally takes a seat, his presence is like a warm embrace, reminding her of the camaraderie that comes with shared experiences. "So, you're the one who's been trying to play matchmaker," she says, tilting her head to the side as she assesses him with a playful glint in her eye. "What's your secret? Spill it, I want in on the action." She leans in conspiratorially, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass, her eyes darting between Joey and Justin, enjoying the blend of embarrassment and camaraderie between them.
Joey's laugh booms across the patio, the sound resonating with the easy comfort of an old friend who knows all the best stories. He leans back in his chair, his arms folded behind his head, a smug smile playing on his lips. "Secret?" He says, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "It's simple, really. I just know what a catch my boy here is." He nudges Justin with his elbow, the motion causing the chair to rock slightly. "And when I saw you two," he says, gesturing between them, "I knew it was game over."
The air thickens with the weight of Joey's words, and Justin's heart skips a beat. He clears his throat, trying to regain his composure, his eyes flickering to Y/n. Her smile is gentle, a knowing look in her eyes that suggests she sees right through their playful banter.
"Well, it's been quite the evening," Y/n says, glancing at her phone with a sigh. "But I've got an early call time tomorrow, and I can't let Hollywood's toughest director catch me yawning on set." She stands up, smoothing out her dress with a grace that belies the sudden sadness in her eyes. "Thank you for the escape, guys. It's been... refreshing." She looks at Justin, the unspoken understanding between them as palpable as the night air. "I'll see you around, Justin," she says, her voice a soft caress. "And Joey," she adds, her smile widening, "you keep him out of trouble, okay?"
"Oh, you bet I will," Joey says, his grin never faltering. He stands up as well, towering over both of them. "But you know me, I'm the king of stirring the pot." He winks at Y/n before slapping Justin on the back. "Take care, sweetheart," he says, his tone teasing but affectionate. "And don't let this guy sweet talk you into any crazy bets. He's got a silver tongue when he wants to."
Justin stands up with her, his hand instinctively reaching out to help her chair. "It's been a pleasure, Y/n," he says, his voice sincere, his eyes holding hers for a beat longer than necessary. "I hope our paths cross again soon." The gravity of his words hangs in the air, hinting at the connection that's grown between them in such a short time.
As Y/n says her goodbyes, Justin can't help but feel a pang of regret at their impromptu meeting coming to an end. He watches her slip away into the night, her laughter fading into the buzz of the party. His heart feels lighter than it has in a long time, and he knows that this isn't the last he'll see of her. With a nod to Joey, he gathers his things and heads home, his mind racing with thoughts of her smile, her wit, and the way her eyes lit up when she talked about her love for racing. The quiet of the night seems to amplify his longing as he navigates the city streets, the neon lights reflecting off his windshield like a kaleidoscope of their shared moments.
The party goes on without them, a cacophony of voices and music that now seems a bit hollow. As Y/n's silhouette retreats into the night, Justin can't shake the feeling that he's lost something precious. He says his goodnights to Joey with a forced smile and heads home, his thoughts swirling like a tornado around the charming girl. Her laughter echoes in his mind, her words of kindness and understanding resonating in his soul. The drive back to his beachfront apartment is a blur, the city lights a mere backdrop to the replay of their conversation. He parks his car in the garage, the engine's purr the only sound to break the silence. The cool ocean breeze whispers through the open windows, carrying the faint scent of jasmine from the patio. He can't stop thinking about her, his heart racing with excitement and a hint of fear that he might never find someone who truly gets him like she seems to.
The memory of Y/n's dress clinging to her curves plays on a loop in Justin's mind as he walks into his apartment, the quiet hum of the fridge the only company to his racing thoughts. He tries to shake off the image, but it lingers like the scent of her perfume on his shirt. He heads to the bathroom, the thought of her contagious energy making his pulse quicken. 
As the steam fills the bathroom, Justin's thoughts drift back to the press of Y/n's body against his, the way her dress clung to her curves like a second skin. The memory sends a jolt of desire through him, and he can't help but let his hand wander, his fingertips grazing his abs as he imagines the softness of her touch. His hand moves lower, his thoughts spinning a web of passionate encounters, each more vivid than the last. The water pummels his back, a rhythmic beat that matches the tempo of his thoughts. He pictures her laugh, her eyes sparkling with mischief, and feels a sudden surge of arousal. He lets out a low groan, his hand moving faster as he gives in to the fantasy, the warm water a silent witness to his longing. The climax hits him like a wave, crashing over him and leaving him breathless, his heart pounding against his ribs. He leans heavily against the wall, the water now cold against his skin, as he comes back to reality with a gasp. It's not just physical desire; it's the connection they share that fuels his need for her. He turns off the shower, the silence ringing in his ears, feeling both satisfied and empty, knowing that the real thing would be nothing short of earth-shattering.
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