richardnixonbutagirl · 2 years ago
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“Your fingers were just inside of me and you haven’t even seen Close Encounters of The Third Kind?” - an actual thing I had to say to someone last night
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gothcsz · 18 days ago
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Obvious | Pornstar!Javier Peña x Fem!Reader | Part 4 of Unscripted Desire | ~12k wc | Series Masterlist | gif cred | Explicit. Minors DNI.
Summary: Life after quitting the porn industry.
Tags: halloween vibes, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v sex (protected), getting bent over in a parking garage, frankie heavy beginning (they had us in the first half not gonna lie), speaking of frankie he wears the ghostface mask while hitting it, connie has entered this little universe, masturbation with vibrator (f), clit stimulation, dirty talk, pussy slapping, JUST THE TIP!!!!, no use of y/n, other shit i’m probably forgetting.
A/N: surpriseeeee, i woke up a little too inspired to write and voila, out came this beautiful chapter that i was not expecting to get out so soon. again, this fic has def taken off in ways i never imagined but uhhh, we out here 🖤 thanks to everyone for the support, frankie girlies (gn) i hope i did your man justice 'cause i was feeling a little too feral for him. as for my just the tip stans... we did it joe 🤠 i hope you guys fucking love this the way i do and that you ruined your underwear... just as i did 🖤
The cool autumn breeze sweeps over you as you walk out of the movie theater with Frankie, the Halloween spirit in full swing. Scream 2 was as thrilling as ever, and your favorite of the trilogy.
The fall season always makes you feel nostalgic, and tonight has been no exception—dinner, a movie, and Frankie by your side for the past month has made things feel better than they have been for quite some time now.
“It’s not that hard to escape the bastard,” Frankie says confidently, as if he’d be the first to survive the whole ordeal. “He’s just some guy—or girl—wearing a mask with a knife. I’d have them handled in five minutes. Tops.”
You laugh, humoring him. “Oh, I’m sure you would.”
The parking garage is mostly empty, dimly lit as you make your way to his truck, parked at the top level. You’re talking casually about the film when he suddenly slows down, a mischievous smirk creeping across his face. He corners you slowly, backing you against the cool metal of the truck, his presence looming as you feel the tension rise. 
“Or,” he says, voice dropping lower, “I could be a real kickass Ghostface.”
Your eyes flick to the mask in his hand, the complimentary one that came with the tickets, and then back to him. His dark brown eyes gleam with playful intent, and a thrill shoots through you. “Oh yeah?” you challenge, raising an eyebrow.
He grins, slipping his cap off and pulling the mask over his face. Oh, shit. You’ve never had a mask kink before, but something about Frankie wearing it like this, his body pressing closer, has your pulse racing. 
“What’s your favorite scary movie?” He asks, his voice lowering to mimic what’d you just seen, a smooth yet eerie tone. It’s almost too good, too convincing, and you suddenly understand why people fantasize about this kind of thing.
You bite your lip, your mind swirling with desire as his hand slides down to your hip, squeezing gently. “I don’t have one,” you say, teasing him. You can barely see his eyes through the mask’s slits, but the way his head tilts makes your stomach flip.
“Oh, c’mon, hermosa,” he purrs, “don’t lie to me.”
You giggle nervously, feeling the heat between you both intensify. Glancing around to make sure you’re still alone, you place a hand on his chest, letting it slide down slowly until it reaches his belt. He grunts in response, his free hand gripping the back of your head tightly. The pressure sends a shiver down your spine, and you whimper softly.
“You’re liking this, aren’t you?” He asks, voice muffled slightly by the mask but dripping with lust.
“More than I’d like to admit,” you breathe out, your body reacting instinctively to his touch. And before you can process it, your jeans and underwear are being pulled down to your mid-thigh. Frankie wastes no time, maneuvering you into the backseat of the truck. You’re bent over, ass out, hands pressed against the cool leather as you hear him undo his belt, the sound of his zipper punctuating the quiet.
He’s quick, efficient, rolling a condom over his thick cock before positioning himself behind you. His hand grips your hip as he thrusts into you, and you gasp as he fills you, the mask still firmly on his face. 
It’s fucking amazing. Frankie fucks you like no one ever has—not like it’s for show or performance, but feverent and real. Each thrust hits the perfect spot inside you, sending your vision into a haze of stars. You’re more vocal than you’ve ever been, moaning his name, asking for more.
“Harder,” you whine, and he obliges, his nails digging into your hips as he pounds into you relentlessly. His grunts mix with your moans, the sound echoing in the empty parking garage. 
When he’s close, he finally pulls the mask off, tossing it aside before leaning down, kissing and nipping at your neck. His fingers move below you, rubbing at your sensitive clit as you clench around him, your orgasm rushing through you.
His teeth graze your skin as you both reach your peak, your body trembling as he groans, his release following yours.
He stills inside you, breathing heavily against your neck, and for a moment, everything is still—just you, him, and the night. You smile, feeling content, and he presses a soft kiss to your shoulder before slowly pulling out, leaving you both breathless in the backseat of his truck.
“Well, fuck.” Frankie curses under his breath, tying the condom off with a quick motion. His hands, now gentler, reach for yours as he helps you up, both of you quickly fixing your clothes and appearances.
Once you’re situated, you spin around to face him, your fingers lightly brushing his jaw as you lean in to kiss him. It’s sweet, and the soft smack of your lips echoes through the empty parking garage.
“That was amazing,” you say, still a little breathless, your heart still racing in your chest.
A smirk plays on his lips as he puts his cap back on and tosses the used condom in a nearby trash bin. “Gonna have to hold onto this,” he says, nodding toward the Ghostface mask, now thrown carelessly into the backseat. There’s a playful gleam in his eyes, that flirty, teasing edge you’ve come to expect from him.
“It was definitely a heat-of-the-moment thing,” you say, trying to play it cool, though you can’t help the little grin tugging at the corner of your mouth.
“Mhm, sure it was.” He winks, sliding into the driver’s seat beside you as he starts the engine, the rumble of his truck echoing as he pulls out of the garage.
The streets are alive with the Halloweekend night crowd. People spill out of bars, laughter and chatter drifting through the air as Frankie navigates through the bustling costumed scene. You catch sight of a group of friends stumbling onto the sidewalk, and you’re grateful that your apartment’s entrance is around the back, away from all the noise and chaos.
Frankie pulls up across the street from your place, parking the truck and turning to you with a slightly furrowed brow. “Not really a fan of your current living arrangement,” he says, his tone casual but his eyes serious.
You shrug, reaching for your purse. “Beggars can’t be choosers,” though you can’t deny you’ve felt the same way. The cramped apartment above a rowdy bar wasn’t your dream setup, but it’s what you’ve got for now.
Leaning over the console, you peck his lips once, twice, then again. What starts as a series of playful kisses quickly turns into something more, your hands finding his stubbled jaw as his fingers graze your thigh. Before long, you’re fully making out again.
When you finally pull away, your lips tingling, you ask softly, “Wanna come up?”
He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, his eyes search yours for a moment, considering something. But then, with a slow nod, he says, “Yeah, okay.” His voice is steady, but there’s that familiar heat beneath it, the same one that had you wrapped up in the backseat earlier.
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The following morning is spent with the both of you lazily lounging around your apartment, only leaving to pick up  a late breakfast from your favorite spot around the corner before you’re back in bed, sleeping the day away.
You’re barely aware of the warm breath ghosting over your inner thighs as you shift in your sleep, legs lazily spread across the bed. A sleepy moan slips out when you feel soft lips pressing against your pussy, then a firmer kiss followed by a slow drag of a tongue. 
You stir, half-dazed, your fingers instinctively moving to the unruly curls of hair between your legs as the sensation intensifies. Frankie’s lips latch onto your clit, sucking gently, and it sends a shock of pleasure through your body, waking you up fully.
“Oh,” his name slips from your lips like a breathless confession. 
You can feel his grin against you, hear the low groan vibrating through your sensitive flesh as he takes his time, his tongue swirling around you in lazy circles, savoring your taste.
Just for a second, a flash of something—or someone—else crosses your mind. Javier. The thought of him, of the way he’d made you fall apart that day in the elevator, flickers in your mind like a flame.
Your eyes fly open in shock, and you gasp, but Frankie is none the wiser. He assumes your reaction is all because of him, and that only spurs him on. His lips press harder against you as he brings two fingers up, spreading you open gently before sinking them inside. 
You shake your head, mentally shoving him back into the recesses where he belongs.
With a determined focus, you let yourself melt back into the pleasure, letting go of everything else. “Pussy tastes so good, hermosa,” he mumbles, as he works his mouth and fingers together, creating a messy, perfect rhythm that has your thighs clenching around his head.
It’s all too much, too good, and you can’t help the way your body writhes beneath him.
Your moans fill the room, louder and more desperate, hips lifting and chasing the pleasure as the tension in your spine coils tighter and tighter until it finally snaps, and you come undone all over his lips and fingers.
Frankie doesn’t stop right away—his lips stay on you, moving with less intensity now, just soft kisses as you come down from your high. He places a final, lingering kiss to your clit before he crawls up your body, kissing a path along your skin. You’re still wearing his t-shirt, your body half exposed, and he grins down at you, his dark eyes sparkling with satisfaction. 
“Figured you needed something to help get you through your shift,” he says, his voice teasing yet full of affection.
You give him a lazy, fucked-out smile, still catching your breath. “It’s gonna help me with more than just my shift, mister. You just gave me something new to add to my spank bank.”
He shakes his head playfully. “Spank bank, huh? Glad to be of service,” he adds with a wink, leaning in for another kiss, slower this time. You can’t help but run your hands over his arms, admiring the small scars, the beauty marks that dot his tan skin.
“Are you coming back tonight?” You ask softly, your fingers tangling in the curls at the nape of his neck, pulling him down for a peck.
He sighs against your lips before shaking his head. “Can’t. I’ve got Elliana this weekend,” he says, his tone softening as he mentions his four-year-old daughter. You haven’t met her yet, the two of you keeping things casual and slow.
Neither of you wants anything serious, but hearing him mention his daughter always adds a layer of sweetness to him that makes you feel warm.
You nod in understanding, pulling him down for one final kiss before you force yourself to get up and start getting ready for work. He watches you, that same teasing, affectionate glint in his eyes, and you can’t help but smile back at him, grateful for whatever this is between you two.
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“You just got fucked, didn’t you?” Connie’s voice hits you the second you step behind the bar, her eyebrows wiggling with mischief as she leans against the counter, arms crossed over her Princess Peach costume that’s not really a costume—just a pink tennis dress with the signature crown atop of her head. 
“Hello to you too, Connie.” You give her a sarcastic smile, securing the half apron around your waist. It’s a routine now—her prying into your business like an investigative reporter for the gossip section.
Reminds you of another blond, and now you wonder if they’re all just like this.
Your firecracker of a coworker is an E.R. nurse who took on this bartending gig a few months after you did. The fact that she has to hustle for tips despite being in healthcare is one of those cruel ironies you both bitch about during slow shifts. You’d think a nurse would be raking in cash, but there are nights here at Lucky’s where she pulls more than at the hospital.
“I’m just saying,” Connie continues, mid-lemon slice, her eyes narrowing in exaggerated suspicion. “You’re wearing your cute jeans, your shirt’s actually clean, and—wait, is that makeup on your face? Please don’t tell me you’re in cat ears!” She pauses, blade in hand, smirking at you like she’s cracked some secret code.
Your face warms up as you adjust the stupid cat ears on your head. Yeah, she’s nailed it—hooking up with Frankie before your shift definitely put some extra pep in your step tonight. A little effort never hurt, especially when looking put-together meant better tips.
It’s Halloween, and people tend to tip better when you’re festive. So, why not milk it for all it’s worth?
“Just capitalizing off the holiday, Con. Is that a crime?” You say, bending down to grab the ice buckets for a quick refill before the evening rush hits.
“No, what is a crime,” she says, not missing a beat as she narrows her eyes at you, tossing the lemons aside, “is you skimping out on the juicy details of your love life.”
You roll your eyes but can’t help the smile that slips out as you hip-check her on your way to the ice machine. “I’m not skimping. It’s not like I’ve been hiding some wild love affair. We only started fucking, what, like two weeks ago?”
“And?” She leans forward, hands on her hips, waiting like she’s tuning in for the next episode of her favorite drama.
You bite your lip, lowering your voice conspiratorially, “It’s… fucking amazing.”
She whistles, then throws her hands up in celebration. You can’t help but laugh—loudly—your mood is too good to even pretend to be embarrassed.
Grabbing the freshly filled ice buckets, you lug them back behind the bar, your arms burning slightly from the weight, but you’re not complaining. Between lugging buckets and keeping the bar stocked, who needs a gym membership?
“I’m so jealous. I can’t even remember the last time I slept with a guy and actually enjoyed it,” She says with a dramatic sigh, leaning her elbows on the bar.
“Trust me, I was in the same boat for the longest time. Then Frankie just… showed up,” you say with a small, satisfied smile. It’s true, he kind of did swoop in out of nowhere, and it’s been surprisingly easy with him since.
But, of course, there’s that brief hiccup in your mind that involves Javier. 
You push the thought of him away, like you’ve been doing for weeks. What happened earlier in bed with Frankie was just a slip-up, your subconscious messing with you.
“Well, I need a guy to just show up and fuck me so I can think straight again,” she half-jokes, and the two of you burst into laughter, the kind that shakes your shoulders and draws a few curious glances from nearby patrons.
As the night picks up, the bar gets busier, and the usual rhythm settles in. You and Connie move in sync, the crowd buzzing with energy.
Costumes, chatter, and the clinking of glasses surround you, but you’re in your zone. It’s not until about two hours later, as you’re pouring someone’s vodka soda, that you catch sight of a familiar face sliding into a barstool in front of you.
“Long time no see, stranger,” you greet Steve over the music, already reaching for his usual piss beer and uncapping it before sliding it across the counter.
“Work’s been fucking ass,” he replies, taking a long, much-needed gulp from the bottle. You can see the exhaustion in his eyes. 
“Robbie still being an asshole, I presume?” You ask, shifting away to take another patron’s order while keeping half an ear out for whatever fresh hell your ex-boss has put Steve through now.
Steve’s attention, though, is fixed on something—or rather, someone—else. His gaze locks on Connie, who’s busy putting on a little show for a group of birthday girls. She’s expertly pouring a line of shots, lighting them on fire, and sliding them toward the group, who erupt into cheers.
“She seein’ anyone?” He asks, leaning in closer, like he’s trying to keep the question discreet. Between the thumping music and the lively chatter, Connie wouldn’t hear him even if he shouted.
You raise a brow. “Like I told you last time—and like she told you the time before—no.”
“Then why’s she always shuttin’ me down?” He frowns, frustration creasing his face.
You shrug, wiping down the perpetually sticky counter. “Probably because you only approach her here, when you’re halfway through a six-pack. Connie’s not looking for bullshit—she deals with enough of that here and at the hospital.”
Steve scoffs, taking another hefty swig of his beer. “Right. You bartenders are tough to crack.”
You smirk, knocking your knuckles on the wooden bar top. “Maybe, but we’re worth the effort.”
Steve chuckles at that. “Now, spill. I’ve barely seen you since I quit.” You’re curious, and maybe just a little petty.
He groans, tipping his head back as if the memory of work physically pains him. And a part of you—maybe the slightly vindictive part—waits eagerly to hear about how Robbie’s screwing up, still secretly wishing for your old boss’s downfall.
“Longer shoots for lesser pay. And the fucking guys he’s been hiring— Christ Almighty. S’been a fuckin’ shitshow since you walked out,” You feel pride swell up in your chest at the remembrance, how good it felt to stick up for yourself. “But especially since Javier kicked his ass to the curb. I’m the last one standing.”
You barely have time to absorb this before a rowdy group of frat boys descends on the bar, demanding drinks with the enthusiasm of toddlers in a candy store.
You want to wring their necks for interrupting your train of thought, especially since curiosity about what happened with Javier is gnawing at you.
Why do you care? That small voice in your head questions, but you put her on mute and focus on fulfilling the orders of these insufferable college students.
Noticing you’re tied up, Steve hops down a few barstools, positioning himself in front of Connie, trying to charm her again. You can’t help but catch snippets of his pickup lines as you whirl about behind the bar. To your surprise, Connie seems receptive this time, laughing and engaging with him instead of brushing him off like before.
Good for her—she deserves a bit of fun, especially after just saying she needed to get laid. You hope Steve has learned a thing or two from all those shoots.
Amid the chaos, you break through their flirting when Connie has to prepare another round of shots. “So, Javier quit?” you ask, the words spilling out before you can hold them back.
Steve, clearly happy as hell that his advances have finally worked, shoots you a smug grin. “Yup. Him and Robbie were arguing more and more then he pulled a you and stormed off set. It’s just him and his agent now. He isn’t signing on to just one production company anymore. Don’t be surprised if you see him sellin’ tricks on Figueroa.”
A frown tugs at your lips, the bittersweet news settling in your chest. You can’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for Javier.
“Why are you askin’? You miss him or somethin’? Thought you were still bangin’ it out with that camera guy from Malibu.” His tone is teasing, reminiscent of a little brother trying to get under your skin.
You snort, rolling your eyes and collecting the empty glasses into a plastic bin. “ I’m just surprised. This is like, his whole thing.”
He shrugs nonchalantly. “Yeah, he hasn’t been working as much. I’ve never seen the guy be this… still. Told him maybe it’s a good thing—he can finally chill the fuck out and give his dick a break.”
You can’t help but laugh, handing him another beer. “I can’t even imagine what else he’d do. Can you seriously picture Javier Peña working a 9 to 5?”
Steve grins, scratching his chin as if pondering the idea. “I dunno, he could be a good car salesman. Maybe even insurance?”
You both chuckle, but as you excuse yourself to put away the dirty dishes, your mind lingers on Javier. It’s like a weird domino effect: your departure had shaken things up, and now a small part of you feels somewhat responsible for this mess.
No, you shouldn’t feel this way. He’ll figure it out. You really shouldn’t waste this much time ‘worrying’ about him. He means nothing to you. End of story.
The rest of your shift flows smoothly, and you end up pocketing more tips than you anticipated. Even the late hour—almost four in the morning—doesn’t faze you as you and Connie finish cleaning up and closing.
“You can stay the night if you want. I’m sure you don’t want to wait for the bus this late,” you suggest, watching her mop with a satisfied smile.
“Actually…” She pauses, wringing out the mop head. Your brows raise at her tone, and she bites her lip. “My ride is waiting for me out front.”
You piece it together in an instant, halting mid-count of the twenty-dollar bills. “No way, you finally gave in to Steve!”
Connie’s face lights up with a sheepish smile. “I thought he was cute since day one. I just couldn’t let him get to me so easily. Play hard to get, you know? See if he really wanted me as badly as he said he did.”
You hum, shaking your head with a grin as you resume counting. “Atta girl. Enjoy yourself, you deserve it.”
As you finish up, you hug Connie goodbye, watching as she excitedly jumps into Steve’s Jeep. You trudge up the creaky stairs to your place, feeling a bit lonely now.
The remnants of Frankie’s presence linger in your cramped apartment: his side of the bed still mussed, a crumpled T-shirt on the floor, and takeaway containers from earlier scattered on your small kitchen table.
With a sigh, you take off your cat ears and head straight for the shower, hoping to wash away the lingering thoughts of both Javier and Frankie before slipping into the quiet of your own bed.
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Frankie stands in your living room, his expression serious but soft, while you sit on the couch, staring up at him.
You foolishly didn’t think this would happen—at least not this soon, only two months in. His words are steady, measured, like he’s practiced this. “Elliana’s mom and I… we’re trying to work things out.”
The lump in your throat rises, but you refuse to let it crack your voice. You won’t give in to the urge to cry. It’s not like you didn’t expect this on some level—dating a man with a child meant his ex would always be in the picture. And now, she’s front and center. 
“I understand…”
He exhales deeply at seeing you like this. He sits next to you, close but not invasive, and his presence—still so familiar—only sharpens the ache. You don’t pull away, though everything inside you screams to. Even if this is the right way to end things, you have every right to feel a sting. 
You weren’t serious-serious, but you’d gotten used to him. His easy warmth, the random dates that brightened your week, the small slice of domesticity you didn’t realize you’d grown to like. And the sex… God, you’re not ready to give that up, either. 
“I didn’t mess around with her while we were together. You have to know that,” he adds, his voice low, calm, as if trying to make sure you’re not left with any doubts. He rests his hand on your knee, grounding you in the moment, though you wish he wouldn’t. 
“I know you’re not that guy, Frankie. It just sucks being broken up with,” you say, forcing a smile, lightening your tone as if to keep the tears at bay.
He sighs again, his big brown eyes—those damn puppy eyes—locking onto yours. “I really enjoyed my time with you,” he says, sounding sincere. “It was great. You’re great.”
You nod, just wanting this to be over so you can sink yourself into your sheets and rot for the rest of the day. 
“Likewise, Frankie. Now go make sure your daughter’s got a stable home to grow up in.” You try to smile again, but it’s weaker this time. He can see through it, you know, but he nods anyway.
You walk him to the door, making a quick detour to your bedroom to gather the few t-shirts he’s left behind. When you hand them to him, he grins, trying to lift the mood. “So that’s where these went.”
“Yeah, I’m a bit of a t-shirt hoarder,” you joke back, your voice hollow.
He pauses at the door, his eyes lingering on you longer than you’d like.
“Take care of yourself.”
“You too, hermosa,” he replies, the affection in the word making your heart squeeze.
As soon as the door clicks shut behind him, you let yourself collapse against it, sliding down until you’re sitting on the floor, knees drawn up to your chest. The tears come silently at first, just a slow trickle, but soon they’re streaking down your cheeks as you curl into yourself.
You hate dating. You’ve always hated it. It feels like a cycle of disappointments: either you’re stuck with some dud or, worse, you find someone worth a damn, and they leave anyway. 
After crying it out for a few minutes, you force yourself to wipe away the tears. The ache in your chest lingers, but you’re determined to distract yourself, dragging your feet over to the entertainment center. Your hand glides over the familiar spines of DVDs and VHS tapes, searching for the right kind of escape, something to pair with the bottle of wine you’ll snag from downstairs.
You reach the end of the row and stop on Pretty Woman, about to pull it out, when your fingers brush against a few unmarked DVDs shoved haphazardly in the back. Curious, you pull them out, and your breath hitches.
They’re your old shoots—the first ones you ever did with Javier. The raunchy titles leap out at you, and suddenly, memories of being on set with him flood back. The chemistry, the heat, the way he looked at you when the cameras weren’t rolling.
Your pulse quickens. You should put them back. But you don’t. You weren’t prepared for this— especially not today, freshly dumped, on the verge of a sexual drought, and with your head all messed up.
Fuck it, you have nothing to lose, so you randomly pick one. Pretty Woman gets shoved aside as you clutch the DVD case, a weird thrill running through you.
As if possessed, you march to your bedside table in your bedroom, frantically rummaging for your long-neglected vibrator. It’s been gathering dust since Frankie showed up, but now… now you’re hoping, praying it still works. When you finally find it, you flip it on, and the gentle hum tells you it’s fully charged.
Thank you, past me. You have no idea how much present me needs this.
With a deep breath, you return to the living room and pop the DVD into the player. The screen flickers to life, and you settle onto the couch, heart pounding in your chest as the film begins. 
The anticipation builds as the usual no-piracy warning flashes on the screen, followed by the production company’s intro. Finally, the familiar jazzy porn music kicks in, setting the mood for what’s to come.
You can already feel your pulse racing, knowing what’s next. This one, you remember—it was one of the first outdoor scenes you shot.
The setup was simple, classic: a woman stranded on the side of the road due to car trouble, waiting for a tow truck to save her. The main star, gorgeous as ever, is dressed provocatively in a tiny miniskirt, platform flip-flops, and a tube top that screams easy access. The camera lingers over her, capturing every curve of her body as she fakes helplessness, playing her role perfectly.
Then comes the rumble of the tow truck, and Javier steps out, looking rugged and sexy in dirty jeans and a rumpled denim shirt with a generic towing company patch stitched onto it. His presence alone is enough to make your skin prickle with heat.
“Pretty little thing like you shouldn’t be stuck out here like this,” his voice fills the room. God, you hate to admit it, but you’ve missed hearing him—his smooth tone, the way he used to make every line sound like a promise.
Maybe it’s the leftover emotion from Frankie’s breakup that’s doing this to you, making you feel too much.
“Thank goodness you’re here to help me out. I just... I don’t have any money on me right now to pay for it,” the woman pouts, lips glossy, eyes fluttering up at him like she’s the most innocent thing alive.
Javier cocks his head, eyes traveling over her like she’s a piece of candy. “Don’t worry,” he says, that signature smirk appearing on his face. “I think we can figure something out.”
And just like that, they’re fucking. Raw, desperate sex. He has her spread out on the hood of the car, and her tits bounce with every hard thrust. Javier holds her legs wide open, his rough hands gripping her thighs as he slams into her.
The scene is pure, animalistic lust, and it has your head spinning.
A whimper escapes your lips before you can stop it. Your moans mix with theirs from the TV, and the steady buzz of your vibrator pulses deep inside you. You match the rhythm of Javier’s thrusts, watching as he pistons his cock in and out of her, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling your living room.
You remember that day on set vividly. You’d been sick, your body still sore from the remnants of a cold, and you’d been eager to get it over with so you could go home and collapse into a warm bowl of pho.
But now, watching the scene play out in front of you, it’s like you’re seeing it for the first time—every detail heightened, every movement burned into your mind.
Javier’s fingers dig into her skin as he holds her in place, his hips grinding into her with force. Her face twists in bliss, and you can’t help but imagine what that must feel like, that deep, toe-curling sensation as he hits just the right spot. You let out another moan, the vibrator buzzing relentlessly as you try to keep up with the scene, your hips rocking in time with theirs.
When he leans down, wrapping his lips around her nipple, it’s like you can feel the phantom of his mouth on your own skin. You bring a hand up to your chest, pinching and twisting your nipple, slicking your fingers with spit to heighten the sensation. It’s almost too much, but you can’t stop yourself.
Your breathing quickens as you turn up the setting on the vibrator, the pleasure building, your back bending off the couch. You close your eyes and let your imagination take over, the image of Javier on top of you searing into your mind—his body, hot and heavy, pressing against yours, his teeth grazing your neck, his hands everywhere at once. You can feel him, hear the grunts and groans from the screen, but in your mind, it’s all for you.
“Nena, look at you,” Javier’s voice murmurs, low and rough in your mind, as he hitches your leg higher around his waist, his words melting into your skin like liquid heat. “Told you you’d look so beautiful spread out like this, taking my cock so well.”
A sharp gasp escapes you, your breath catching in your throat as your pussy clenches tightly around the vibrator, which suddenly feels less like a toy and more like him—big, thick, and filling you completely. You can almost feel the weight of him pressing against you, the way his cock would stretch you just right. Your lips part, another whimper escaping as the scene in your head becomes even more vivid.
“And those noises you’re making?” His voice, rich and dripping with desire, keeps echoing through your thoughts. “Baby, you drive me fucking,” his hips snap forward in your imagination, rough and unrelenting, “crazy,” another thrust sending a shockwave of pleasure through you. Your neck arches back, exposing your throat like you’re inviting him to claim you, his mouth finding the sensitive skin behind your ear, marking you, biting you. His lips would feel so good, so possessive, leaving trails of heat wherever they touch.
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he whispers against your skin, his breath hot in your ear. “Even after not seeing your pretty face for two months, all I see when I close my eyes is you.”
His teeth graze your earlobe, and it sends a jolt of pleasure straight to your core. Your hand moves from your breast down to your clit, fingers rubbing the tender nub with an urgency you can’t hold back any longer. You’re so close, so fucking close. 
“Oh, J-Javi,” you cry out, your voice breaking. “Fuck, I’m gonna—”
The orgasm slams into you, cutting off your words, drowning your thoughts in white-hot pleasure. Your body spasms uncontrollably, juices dripping down as your vibrator hums between your legs. You’re shaking, utterly spent, your breath ragged, skin on fire.
“Good girl, nenita,” his voice purrs, the Spanish rolling off his tongue like honey. “Mira que belleza. It’s okay, I got you.”
It takes a moment for reality to snap back into place, the haze of pleasure lifting just enough for you to realize that he didn’t say it at all. It was the Javier on the screen, whispering sweet praise to the actress as he fucked her.
You lay there, boneless, too tired to care as the movie continues to play. But something feels off now, a strange sense of emptiness replacing the satisfaction you usually feel.
You pull the vibrator from between your legs, the wetness from your climax glistening on it as you flick the switch off and toss it carelessly onto the coffee table. You’ll clean it later.
Your body slumps against the cushions, head falling into your hands. “What the fuck did you just do?” You whisper to yourself.
Watching porn to get off? That’s normal, right? It’s what it’s made for. Lots of people do it. So why do you feel so… guilty? Is it because it was Javier? Of course it is. No matter how hard you try to push him out of your mind, he always finds a way back in—whether he’s there in front of you, or haunting you in the fantasies, you can’t seem to put him to rest.
And the timing? Not even an hour after being broken up with, and already you’ve let him worm his way back into your head, back into your body. It’s like he’s got you tangled up, literally and figuratively, even when he’s not here.
Unable to take any more of their exaggerated moans and whimpers, you reach for the remote and switch off the TV, the screen going dark as you eject the disc and shove it back into its case. You finally grab Pretty Woman, tossing it into the player without much thought, your head still spinning.
It’s only then that you remember the wine, the one thing that might actually help clear your head. You stand, sluggish and sore, pulling your clothes back on and heading downstairs to fetch that much-needed bottle, your thoughts still racing, still trying to untangle the mess that is Javier Peña lodged firmly in your mind.
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“Just know, I didn’t plan this.”
Steve’s words make you squint in suspicion as he slides onto the barstool next to you, his usual spot. You’re about to ask what he means when your heart plummets—there he is. The familiar broad frame of the handsome man you’ve been trying—and failing—to scrub from your mind ever since your breakup two weeks ago. Hell, before then too.
“What’s he doing here?” you hiss, shooting Steve a glare so sharp it could cut glass.
“He caught me off guard, okay? Basically invited himself. Don’t make it weird,” he mutters, clearly trying to avoid your wrath.
You bite down hard on your tongue, trying to keep your frustration in check. But then your gaze collides with Javier’s, and it feels like the wind has been knocked out of you.
Those deep brown eyes, glinting beneath the dim lighting, pin you in place, stirring up everything you’ve been trying to bury. It’s infuriating how he seems even more attractive than the last time you saw him, like life just decided to up the ante on making him impossible to forget.
Clearing your throat, you force yourself to look away, frantically trying to busy your hands. Anything to keep from talking to him. But it’s hard to focus when every cell in your body is hyper-aware of his presence just a few feet away.
“I’m going on break!” Connie’s chirpy voice feels like nails on a chalkboard, and you don’t miss the way she winks at Steve before grabbing his arm and leading him to the back.
Ah, so that’s why he’s here earlier than usual. 
“Thirty minutes!” You shout after her, but your heart’s not in it. You’re too preoccupied with the fact that you’re now alone at the bar with Javier and a few of the happy hour regulars.
He leans forward on his elbows, casual but impossibly magnetic in a jean jacket and a cream-colored shirt. His sunglasses hang from the unbuttoned portion near his collarbones, and you can smell that familiar scent of cigarette smoke and cologne that’s been seared into your memory. “So this is the illustrious Lucky’s,” he says, his deep voice wrapping around you like a slow burn.
“The one and only,” you manage to reply, keeping your tone clipped.
“Been doin’ okay?”
“I’ve been managing.” Your words come out a little too quick, a little too defensive, but you can’t help it. 
He tilts his head, his gaze steady. “Still seeing that guy?”
There’s an unmistakable tinge of jealousy laced in his voice, and your heart skips a beat. You meet his eyes for a moment before going back to drying the cheap chalices your boss insisted on for an upcoming theme night.
“That guy has a name,” you correct him coolly. “But no. That ship sailed two weeks ago.”
A low hum escapes his throat, and he drums his fingers lightly against the countertop. “A shame.”
“Can I get you anything?” You ask, a little too forcefully. The question feels like a challenge, and from the way his eyes glint, you know he feels it too.
He lets the tension simmer between you for a moment before finally answering, “Just a Corona.”
“Lime?” 
“Of course, nena.”
That fucking term of endearment hits you like a punch to the gut. It’s what he’s always called you, ever since the very first time you met. And damn it, it’s the same name he whispers in your ear when you imagine him thrusting balls deep inside you, filling you with every inch of his cock.
Your breath hitches before you can stop it, the heat rising in your cheeks as you fumble for a lime. You slice it, hands shaking ever so slightly as you wedge it into the bottle, sliding it across the bar to him.
He doesn’t say anything, just watches you, his gaze burning with the unspoken tension that always builds when you’re around each other.
You can feel it too—the weight of all the unsaid things hanging in the air. All the desire. All the frustration.
He thanks you softly. “So, Steve finally got himself a girl.” He tries to continue the mundane conversation, amused as he leans in, a small smirk playing on his lips.
You try not to notice the way his neck muscles work when he takes a sip of his beer, but it’s impossible not to. You hate the way your body responds, the small flutter in your stomach that you wish would just stop.
“Yeah, he’s been chasing her for months, and she finally gave in. Probably the best thing that could’ve happened for both of them.”
A patron calls for your attention, and you gladly take the opportunity to escape the moment, throwing yourself into mixing a drink with practiced ease. But even as you pour and stir, you feel his eyes on you.
“You look happier here.” His voice breaks the silence when you return, the words almost lazy as he takes another sip of his beer.
“Fake happiness. It’s what gets the tips.”
“Okay, yeah, sure,” he says, leaning in a little, eyes narrowing. “But the way you’re moving back there—you know what you’re doing. I don’t think I ever saw you crack a single smile while we were on set.”
“I did,” you shoot back, feeling your pulse quicken. “Just none of them were directed at you.” The animosity in your tone surprises even you, and you catch the way his brow furrows, a flash of hurt crossing his face.
You quickly smooth it over with a smirk. “Besides, not much to smile about when people are getting fucked stupid in front of a camera.”
“Back to the familiar song and dance, huh?” His voice is steady, but there’s a sharpness beneath the surface.
You scoff, shaking your head as you wipe your hands on your apron. “What are you doing here, Javier?” This time, the question comes out more straight to the point.
He looks at you for a beat, partially confused, “Drinking a beer…”
“At this specific bar, where I’ve worked for two years and you’ve never once showed up until today. Why?” 
For a moment, the two of you stare at each other, locked in a silent standoff. He’s reading you just as you’re trying to read him, both of you too proud—or too scared—to make the next move. Finally, he breaks the silence.
“You want the truth?”
“That’s why I asked.”
“I’ve missed you, nena.”
Your stomach drops and you force yourself to keep your face neutral, but it’s hard. “I regret asking,” you mutter, glancing at your watch. Connie has fifteen minutes left on her break, then you’re done for the night. You’ll be free—at least from the bar, if not from the weight of this conversation.
“Ever since you left,” he continues, not giving you the out you desperately want, “I’ve been trying to figure out why you’re so standoffish. You say it’s because you don’t like me, but I just don’t think that’s true.”
“Well,” you bite out, “assuming has never gotten you anywhere worth being at, right?”
He rubs a hand over his mustache. He’s thinking, trying to find the right words.
“Right,” he finally agrees, tone softer now, more thoughtful. “Listen, I’ve never been good at the whole… talking thing. It’s been my downfall for as long as I can remember.”
Despite yourself, you give him a look that encourages him to keep going.
“And the shit between us? It’s weird. I’d like to move on, but I can’t. You’ve somehow managed to get into every fucking corner of my mind, and no matter what I do, I can’t shake you. I can’t stop thinking about you.”
You suck in a sharp breath, your fingers gripping the wooden countertop. His words hit too close to home because they echo the feelings you’ve been wrestling with since you walked away from him.
Do you admit it? Do you tell him that he’s been haunting your thoughts just as much? Or do you keep it all locked up, close to your chest, where it’s safe and won’t blow up in your face later?
“What do you really want, Javier?” You don’t have time for games, and if he’s here to throw another curveball into your life, you’d rather snip it before it gets any worse.
He pauses, running a hand through his hair, then looks back at you with an expression you haven’t seen in a while—one that’s sincere. “I just want a moment to talk to you,” he says softly. “No bullshit this time. Just you and me.”
You wrestle with yourself, unsure if you want to give in. You’ve heard him talk like this before, but something feels different. He seems like he’s laying all his cards out, but you’ve been hurt enough to know better than to let your guard down too quickly.
Your eyes flick to the clock on the wall, counting the minutes until your shift ends. You chew on your lip, deliberating with yourself, feeling the weight of his gaze on you as you try to make a decision.
Finally, after a beat, you let out a long breath and nod. “I’m off in twenty minutes,” you say, voice steady. “We can talk at my place, but this is the last time we have this conversation, Javier. No more of this back and forth.”
His face lights up, unmistakably relieved, and for a second, you see that glimmer of hope in his eyes. He sits a little taller, less tense, and his smile is soft but genuine. “Thank you,” he says, almost under his breath, like he wasn’t sure you’d agree. “I parked a few blocks down. I can come get you—”
You cut him off, pointing upward. “I live upstairs.”
Javier blinks, then chuckles, the tension between you easing slightly with that simple realization. “Oh,” he says, a little sheepish. “Okay.” For some reason, that small exchange makes both of you laugh—genuine, real laughter, the kind you haven’t shared in a while. It’s a brief moment of lightness before the weight of everything settles back in.
But before either of you can say more, you’re pulled back to the present as the place picks up with a small rush. The door swings open, and a few regulars take their usual spots, dragging you back into your role behind the bar. Javier moves out of the way, leaning back against his stool, watching you as you work.
It doesn’t take long for Connie to return, looking slightly disheveled, her cheeks flushed from whatever she and Steve were up to in the back. You raise an eyebrow, giving her a teasing smirk as she approaches. “Thirty minutes, huh? You sure you didn’t need forty?” You quip, poking fun at her the same way she did to you on Halloween night.
She narrows her eyes at you, but there’s a playful glint in them. “Shut up,” she mutters, straightening her apron. “You know I could’ve dragged it out longer if I wanted.”
You shake your head, chuckling as you hand over the bar to the guy coming in to replace you. Your shift is finally over, and you can feel the tension easing from your shoulders. With one last glance at the clock, you turn toward Javier, who’s still waiting, watching you with that familiar intensity.
“Ready?” you ask, your voice more casual than you feel.
He nods, pushing off the counter to follow you out. Thankfully, Steve had left, but as you pass Connie, you don’t miss the way her eyes widen when she sees the sexy guy trailing behind you. She gives you a look—half amused, half impressed—and you can practically hear her thoughts.
You give her a small wave, shrugging off her knowing smirk as you push through the door, stepping out into the cool evening air.
He follows behind you silently as you climb the narrow staircase to your apartment, the low hum of the bar fading with each step. You can feel his presence like a warm current, that quiet intensity that always seems to wrap around you when he’s near. The proximity makes you hyper-aware of every sound—the creak of the steps beneath your feet, the soft rustle of his jacket as he moves, his shaky breaths from his lungs working overtime due to his constant smoking.
When you finally reach the top and push the door open, you step aside to let him in. He takes a slow look around, his eyes sweeping over the small but cozy space. Despite its shabby appearance—the chipped paint on the walls, the secondhand furniture—it’s undeniably yours.
The throw blankets on the couch, the mismatched mugs on the kitchen counter, the books scattered about. It’s lived-in and comfortable, and you catch the way Javier’s lips twitch in what might be a smile as he takes it all in.
“Okay,” you say, arms crossing as you stand by the kitchenette, keeping a reasonable distance between you. “What now? We’re here. It’s just me and you. What do you have to say to me?”
He hesitates for a moment, running a hand through his hair like he’s bracing himself. Then, he just… spills his guts. “I want you to give me one chance. Just one date,” he says, the words tumbling out faster than you expect. “I know I’ve screwed up before, and I know I’ve been cocky, but… I like you. Like, really like you. More than I’ve let on.”
You blink quickly. You weren’t expecting this—certainly not Javier Peña, of all people, to stand in your apartment and confess to having a legitimate crush on you. “No way,” you mutter, in time with your thoughts, a nervous giggle escaping before you can stop it.
It sounds ridiculous in your head, and even more absurd out loud. He likes you? He doesn’t even know you!
His frown deepens, his jaw tightening as if your reaction stings. “I’m serious,” he’s insistent, his dark eyes locking with yours.
You shake your head, still struggling to process this. “You just got tired of screwing around with all the pretty stars, so now you’re going after someone different. Trying a new flavor of the month by chasing after a girl on the crew.”
“Technically, you’re not on the crew anymore—” he starts, but cuts himself off when he sees the daggers you’re sending him.
He steps a little closer, his tone quieter but more earnest. “You told me earlier that assuming has never gotten me anywhere worth being at. So take your own advice, nena, and stop assuming I’m chasing after you for all the wrong reasons.”
There’s no trace of his usual bravado, no cocky grin or smooth line to disarm you. Just sincerity. And it’s that, more than anything, that makes you pause. For real this time.
“So I’m not just someone to scratch off your list?” You ask, daring him to lie.  
“Wha— no.”
“You really mean it?”  
“Do I need to get on my knees to convince you I’m serious?”  
“That’d be the least serious thing you could do.”  
His mouth twitches up into a half smirk. “So? Will you let me take you out?”
This feels like if you so much as blink, the moment will dissolve—nothing but smoke and mirrors. 
“Okay,” you breathe. “But if it doesn’t work out… then that’s it. You don’t come around here again. You leave me alone. For good.”  
His eyes narrow, but he nods, accepting the ultimatum.  
“Fair enough.” His voice dips into something dark and velvety, a timbre that’s all too familiar. It’s the same voice you’ve heard behind the camera, in the tape that you got yourself off to—low, coaxing, a caress in itself. And damn him, it’s working on you again. “I promise, you won’t regret it.”  
“When?” You ask him.
“You’re the one who works weekends. You tell me.”
“Next Saturday?” You offer, trying to sound casual.
“It’s a date.”  
A flutter of nerves skitters through your chest and you almost laugh again, so giddy, but you clamp down on it.
“Alright... I’ll walk you out.” Your voice sounds awkward to your own ears, but your feet stay rooted to the spot. So does he.  
His gaze sharpens. “You know,” he starts, rubbing his jaw in that infuriatingly familiar way, “Robbie kept saying you ‘broke’ me after that Malibu shoot with Mariella.” He air quotes broke and your expression turns confused.
“Well… he’s an idiot.”  
“He’s not wrong, though,” Javi murmurs, stepping closer, the space between you vanishing.  
Your breath hitches. “Javi…” you warn, but it sounds weak—like a plea dressed as a protest.  
“You were right.” His voice dips again, softer now, but no less dangerous. “Sleeping with barely-legal girls felt... wrong. The whole scene was just fucked. It took me too long to realize it.” He leans in, his breath warm against your skin. “But that’s not what broke me.”  
Your pulse stutters. “Then what?”  
“You,” he whispers, moving closer, until the heat of his body presses against yours. “Your voice. Your eyes.” His gaze dips to your mouth, and your knees threaten to give out. “Those soft lips you won’t let me kiss absolutely fucking broke me.”
Your lower back presses hard against the counter, pinned by the sheer gravity of him closing in. His scent is dizzying.  
Your nipples harden, tightening with each shallow breath you take, the heat between you wrapping around your body like a fever. Now that you’ve stopped fighting it, the tide of lust pulls you under, dragging you into the undertow.
He can’t just say these things to you and expect you to remain sane. Especially not after all your wet dreams he’s been the star of.
“The others don’t do it for me anymore and I’m not popping a pill to get fuckin’ hard.” He cages you in, planting both hands on the counter at your sides. His arms flex, his body crowding yours, then he leans in, his nose brushing the tip of yours in the kind of touch that feels both too soft and too intimate.
“Just standing here with you…” His hips roll forward, pressing against you. The solid ridge of his cock rubs against your stomach through his jeans, and the friction sends a jolt of electricity straight to your core.
You gasp, lips parting as you go weak.
“Oh…” you breathe, shakily, your voice barely more than a whimper. You bite down on your bottom lip, trying to keep some semblance of control, but his gaze locks onto the movement.
“I want to take care of you, nena. Por favor.” His voice drips with need, every word laced with intent. “Let me make you feel good again. I need to make you feel good.”
Memories flash like lightning—the way his mouth felt between your thighs and how it left such an impression that you quit your fucking job (okay maybe not because of that necessarily but it was a butterfly effect)
“Javi…” Your voice is a strained warning, as you press your hand to his shoulder, ready to push him back if you needed to throw some metaphorical ice on this heated moment to chill both of you the fuck out. “I’m not going to fuck you right now.”
“I’m not asking you to…” His hand comes up to take yours at his shoulder into his, bringing it up to his lips to give it a gentle kiss.
God, you just about come right then and there.
“You want to go down on me again?”
He groans, his mouth grazing your knuckles as if tasting you again. “I’ll always want that. Always.” His voice is strained. “But tonight, pretty girl, I just—fuck—I need to feel you.”
“But you just said—”
“I know baby,” he cradles your face and you let him, horny out of your mind and absolutely under his spell. “Just let me put the tip in.”
“What?” You ask, moving back from him to stare up into his eyes.
“The head of my cock. Let me put it in and feel how wet and warm you are.” 
Your thighs clench instinctively, the ache between them growing unbearable. Images of his cock flood your mind—thick, veined, and heavy, flashing like a montage you can’t shake.
The thought of him, so close, pressing inside just enough to tease, makes your breath catch in your throat.
“I-I’ve never done that before... isn’t that—” You shake your head, struggling to wrap your mind around the idea.
“It’ll feel so good, I promise. If you don’t like it I’ll pull out and leave.”
His eyes still hold that sincerity from before, and it tugs at your heart, which has moved its pulse downstairs at the thought of feeling just a little bit of him.
It’s intoxicating, giving you the power to decide just how much of him you’ll take. How deep he’ll bury himself. How much you’ll let him fuck into you. 
A moan slips from your lips, unbidden, and his eyes darken, his jaw tightening at the sound. He’s holding back, but barely—waiting, craving, needing your consent like it’s the only thing tethering him to reality.
“Fuck,” you whisper, already lost. “Whatever, just do it. Do it before I change my mind.”
You squeal as he spins you around, your hands coming up to steady yourself against the counter.
You went out and bought a mini denim skirt after seeing it on the pornstar he fucked in the tow truck scene because you thought it was cute, and now you’re sort of living out that fantasy here with him as he pushes it up high on your hips, exposing your very lackluster underwear.
“Damn…” His hands are all over you, kneading your ass, the rough squeeze of his palms making you whine, back arching instinctively for more. “These are hot as fuck.”
Your cheeks heat up, because no way he thinks your mauve colored hipsters are hot.
He hooks his fingers under the waistband and drags them down your legs, letting them pool at your ankles. You step out of them, still in your sneakers, feeling utterly exposed. But the way he looks at you makes you feel desired.
With a firm hand, he presses against the small of your back, coaxing you into a deeper arch. His hands glide down your thighs, strong fingers gripping where your knee bends, lifting your leg and placing it on the counter. The shift spreads you open for him, your slick, swollen folds glistening in the dim light.
“Fuck...” His voice is pure gravel, rough with need, as he drinks in the sight of you. And then he drops to his knees, right behind you, and buries his face between your legs.
“Oh my—fuck!” you cry, jerking forward against the counter, totally unprepared for the onslaught of his tongue.
He doesn’t hold back—doesn’t ease you into it—just dives in like a man possessed, his mouth working you over with fervor. The obscene sounds of his tongue dragging through your wetness and the desperate groans vibrating from his throat make your head spin. You’re shaking, trying to catch your breath, but it’s useless with the way he devours you.
He licks every inch of your pussy, his tongue flat and broad one second, sharp and focused the next, flicking across your clit with precision. When he sucks the sensitive bud into his mouth, the wet suction sends sparks shooting through your body.
Your forehead thuds against the cabinet in front of you as you babble out his name in breathless, broken curses, pleasure building in tight, pulsing waves. Your legs tremble under his relentless attention, and it feels like he’s not just eating you out—he’s worshiping you, savoring every moment like a man starved.
“Javi—oh my—fuck!” You can barely string two words together, the intensity of it dragging you closer and closer to the edge.
His hands grip your hips, holding you steady as he buries his face deeper, groaning like he can’t get enough of you. And god dammit, you love it. You love the way he’s lost in you, the way his tongue moves like he knows exactly how to pull you apart. It’s filthy, messy, perfect.
He pulls back after a few minutes, reluctantly breaking away from the warmth of you, even though every fiber in his body begs him to stay—tongue, nose, and fingers lost in your sweetness for hours, watching you unravel again and again. He forces himself to move, savoring the way your breath stutters in frustration at the loss.  
The soft metallic clink of his belt buckle being undone makes your heart race, and your pussy clenches reflexively, aching to be filled.  
“Mmm, she’s ready for me, isn’t she?” He’s so smug, watching the way your cunt flutters at the mere thought of his cock sliding inside you. Even just the tip.  
You don’t answer—you can’t answer. The anticipation has stolen every word, every coherent thought from your brain. All you hear is the pounding rush of blood in your ears.
Javier steps in closer, the heat of his body pressing against your back. His hand snakes around you, rough fingers brushing your chin before hovering just beneath your lips.  
“Spit,” he commands, his tone low and firm.  
Like the desperate thing you are, you part your lips without hesitation, letting a hot thread of saliva drip into his waiting palm.  
A deep, approving grunt rumbles from his chest. “Good girl.”  
Your cheeks burn at the praise, and you clench again as he takes your offering, wrapping his wet palm around the thick length of his cock. He strokes himself slowly, hissing through his teeth, the slick sound of his fist dragging over his shaft making your breath hitch.  
Then, without warning, you feel the velvety head of his cock glide through the slick folds of your cunt.  
Both of you shudder—your soft whimper mingling with his guttural groan.  
He drags the swollen tip along your slit, gathering your arousal, and when he nudges it against your throbbing clit, your hips jerk instinctively.  
“Relax, bella,” he warns, his hand tightening on your waist to steady you. “Unless you want me to bust my load all over this pretty clit right now.”  
That filthy mouth of his makes you want to slap him—and kiss him—until you both can’t breathe.  
He keeps teasing you both, swirling the sensitive head over your clit again, tapping it lightly against the swollen bundle of nerves. Your thighs tremble with need, and your pussy clenches again, desperate to take him inside.  
“Fuck,” he groans, his voice gravelly with restraint as he lines himself up with your entrance. “So fucking wet…”  
He tilts his hips just enough to press the head of his cock against your dripping hole, and you gasp, your body instinctively arching toward him.  
“¿Lista?” he whispers, his voice softer now, more intimate. He leans in, pressing his lips to the crook of your neck, trailing gentle kisses over your skin between ragged breaths.  
You nod frantically, not trusting your voice to form words.  
Then, slowly—achingly slow—he pushes the tip inside.  
“That’s it, pretty girl,” he murmurs, lips brushing the shell of your ear.  
A sharp, breathless moan escapes you as he stretches you open, your cunt greedily sucking him in. The sensation is electric, overwhelming—just enough to tease, just enough to leave you craving more.
Your mouth falls open in a silent scream. Why the fuck does this feel so good?
Javier groans, forehead pressed to your shoulder, his cock twitching inside you as he fights to keep from plunging deeper. “Puta madre nenita, this pussy esta tan rica.” 
He stills, savoring the way your tight heat wraps around just the tip of him. His blunt fingernails dig into the skin of your hips as he struggles to keep his hips from moving.
But you can’t help it. Your hips move on their own, rolling back just enough to take more of him inside, the smooth slide of his length sending sparks through your body. A whimper slips from your lips as your walls clench around what little of him you have, the stretch so good it has your eyes fluttering shut, your head tipping forward.
“Don’t. Fucking. Move,” he growls, low and dangerous, and the sound of it shoots straight to your cunt.
You whine softly, biting your lip, as he drags the inches you stole back out, leaving just the swollen head nestled at your entrance. The tease is unbearable, like dangling water in front of someone dying of thirst.
“Javi, I can’t help it,” you moan, the frustration bubbling over into a pout. Your hand drifts down between your thighs, fingers brushing your slick, needy clit. You need something—anything—to relieve the pressure.
His hand is lightning fast, grabbing your wrist and yanking it back to the counter. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He sounds almost offended.
“I need to feel something,” you whimper, shifting your hips desperately against him.
He clicks his tongue, as if scolding you, his lips brushing your ear. “You’re already feeling the head of this cock, aren’t you? And you’re still being greedy, trying to touch this pretty little pussy after I told you I’d take care of you.”
His hand slides from your waist, gliding lower, fingers hovering just above where you need him most. The promise of his touch makes your thighs quiver, and you let out a desperate little whine, arching your back in a silent plea.
“Tell me what you want,” he demands, his voice low and rough, thick with control barely held in check.
You know exactly what he looks like—jaw tight, eyes burning with hunger, teeth gritted as he holds back from sinking all the way into you. And it makes you ache even more.
“Touch me, Javi, please,” you beg, your voice a breathy, needy little mewl. You throw your head back against his shoulder, looking up at him through half-lidded eyes, batting your lashes shamelessly.
A low, satisfied hum vibrates from his chest, and his fingers finally press against your slick, swollen folds. He groans softly as he feels how you’re stretching around the head of his cock, his fingertips tracing the puffy lips before circling lazily over your throbbing clit.
“Ohhh, just like that,” you moan, the sound slipping from you naturally, raw and unfiltered—nothing like the exaggerated performances he’s used to. This is real, and it only makes him harder.
“Fuck me,” he mutters, his breath hot against your neck, “I can’t wait to ruin this pussy, nenita. Gonna make you feel better than any malparido before me.”
His fingers keep working your clit, slow and steady, each stroke dragging you closer to madness. Your hips start to grind against his hand and the blunt head of his cock, desperate for more, for everything.
And the way he’s talking—like you’re his to wreck, his to please—makes you feel like you’ll lose your mind.
You suck in a sharp breath, feeling the jealousy dancing on his fingertips as he works your clit faster, his movements switching between precision and wild hunger.
He rolls the sensitive bud between his thumb and forefinger, pinching it just hard enough to make you gasp. Then, his touch softens—soothing circles, spreading your slick everywhere—before he tugs at your swollen nub, sending shocks of pleasure deep into your core, like fireworks are exploding down there.
“Tell me,” he growls, voice rough with possessiveness. “Did he fuck you good?”
The blunt tip of his cock stays snug at your entrance, and every pinch, every flick of his fingers makes your walls clench greedily around it, desperate for more.
“W-Who?” you whimper, genuinely lost in the haze of his touch. Your mind has melted, everything but the sensations he’s feeding you slipping away like vapor.
That answer pleases him—makes something wicked curl in his chest. His grin presses against your neck, and the wet heat of his tongue drags a slow, deliberate stripe along your skin. Then, he bites down, sucking hard, marking you in that one spot you’ve only ever dreamt of him nipping at.
“That’s what I like to hear,” he murmurs, voice dripping with satisfaction.
Your hand finds his hair, fingers tangling in the thick strands, tugging hard enough to make him groan against your neck. The heat swirling in your belly tightens to a near-breaking point, your orgasm creeping up on you with every flick of his relentless fingers.
“Javi—fuck—I’m gonna cum,” you pant, voice breaking, sounding needy and pitiful.
“I know, baby,” he rasps. “I can feel her gettin’ all tight and messy for me. C’mon, nena, let it happen. I’ve got you.”
He keeps his pace steady—no sudden changes, no wild moves—just the same focused rhythm he’s built up, making your nerves sing, each flick and stroke a perfectly calibrated promise of release.
Your body responds like it always does for him: beautifully. His name falls from your lips like a sweet song. Your hips grind instinctively, chasing the steady friction of his slick fingers.
“More, Javi—oh, please—more,” you gasp, knowing exactly what you need, what only he can give you. You’re ready for him to shove deep inside, to fill you, stretch you, ruin you with the thick cock still teasing your entrance.
If you had said this maybe five minutes ago, he would have obliged, but he’s got a point to prove now. And that point is restraint—his self control.
“Not tonight, pretty girl,” he murmurs darkly, laden with lust and dominance. “You’re gonna come just like this.”
Then, without warning, his hand shifts, and he slaps your pussy—once, twice, three times. The sound is wet and obscene, and the sharp sting sends a shockwave straight to your core.
That’s what breaks you. Your orgasm crashes over you like a violent, unstoppable wave, ripping through your body with terrifying force.
“Fuck—Javi!” you scream, your walls fluttering and pulsing wildly around the head of his cock, soaking his hand in your release as your legs threaten to give out beneath you.
He groans, watching you unravel for him, every twitch and spasm feeding his ego. His fingers don’t stop—stroking you through the aftershocks, coaxing every last drop of pleasure from your trembling body.
Your vision swims, your breath coming in ragged gasps as the euphoria leaves you floating, weightless. And even though he hasn’t buried himself inside you like you wanted, somehow, this feels even more intimate—like he’s branded himself into you without needing to fuck you at all.
The way your pussy grips him sends a shudder down his spine, and with a strangled curse, his balls tighten, his climax hot on the heels of yours. 
“Fuck—” he groans, yanking his cock out just in time, the thick spurts of his cum painting your slick, swollen pussy, making a filthy mess.
Both of you pant, trying to catch your breath, the room heavy with the scent of sex. A sharp hiss escapes your lips as his fingers slide lazily through your soaked folds, mixing the remnants of both your pleasure. When he gathers the sticky blend on his fingers and brings them to your mouth, the hunger in his gaze makes your heart race.  
“Have a taste, baby.”
Without hesitation, you part your lips, taking his fingers into your mouth, swirling your tongue around them with obscene enthusiasm. You moan at the heady, salty taste—like liquid sin on your tongue. It’s addictive, and you suck greedily until his fingers are spotless, releasing them with a wet pop that makes his eyes darken further.  
You glance up at him over your shoulder, lips slightly swollen from your efforts. 
“You okay?” he asks, his tone soft.
You nod, still dazed, your pulse thrumming beneath your skin. “Better than okay. That was... wow.”  
His soft grin blooms into a cocky smirk, and he helps clean you up before gently moving your leg off the counter. As he tucks himself back into his jeans, you adjust your skirt, smoothing it down with shaky hands.  
“Where are my panties?” you ask, glancing around, still floating in the afterglow.  
He reaches into his jacket pocket, pulling them out with a sly grin. “Oh, these?”  
You reach for them, but he swiftly lifts them out of reach.  
“I think I’ll hold onto them.”  
Heat rises to your cheeks as you narrow your eyes at him, but the lazy, satisfied smile on your lips betrays your mock indignation. “Why? Perv.”  
His grin widens, unabashed. “A little memento… to remind me of this. I’ll give them back next Saturday.” He slips them back into his pocket.
You roll your eyes, too blissed out to care. “I can’t believe we just did that.”  
He steps closer, wrapping his arms around you, the warmth of his embrace catching you off guard. After all the resistance you’ve given him, letting him hold you like this feels foreign.
“Told you it’d feel good,” he murmurs smugly, his lips brushing your temple. “Didn’t think you’d be the one to cave first and beg for the whole thing, though.”  
You scoff, giving his hip a playful pinch. “I got caught up in the heat of the moment, okay? You might’ve scored a date and... a semi-fuck, but I’m still sticking to those boundaries. For now.”  
“Does that mean I still can’t kiss you?”  
Oh, hell. He’s already been inside you—well, kind of. What’s one little kiss? But no. You’re trying to make a point here.  
“Nope,” you reply, stopping him with a finger pressed lightly against his lips just as he leans in. “Not until you buy me dinner first.”  
His smirk deepens, and instead of protesting, he kisses the tip of your finger. 
“Deal.”
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started a tag list for my works here, so if you're interested— pls check it out 🖤
🏷️ : @almostempty . @auteurdelabre . @magneticecstasy . @miss-oranje-disco-dancer . @pepperstories
@greenwitchfromthewoods . @maiyart . @pedrohoe04 . @natalieispunk . @thewisesalmon . @bitchesuntitled @puddles221b . @swankyorange . @bbyanarchist . @thottiewinemom . @heyhihello-4771 . @persephone-girl .
🏷️ : @pasc4lfuzz . @sjc7542 . @almostfoxglove . @shy-taylorsversion . @theredvelvetbitch
@xxbadchoicexx . @lumpatto . @haylee-e . @yxtkiwiyxt . @guelyury . @itwasntimethatdidit40 . @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 . @thundermartini . @correapunk .
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jayflrt · 1 year ago
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𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐒 28. 12th date’s the charm
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YOU COULDN’T STAY CALM.
You were waiting for Saw X’s stupid post-credit scene to wrap up while your foot was tapping against the carpet floor anxiously. After you slipped up in the group chat, calling Heeseung your boyfriend, you could only wait and face the consequences after the movie. It was clear it was weighing on the others’ minds; you could see the corner of Sunoo’s mouth fighting to stay down, and although Sunghoon and Jungwon were high, you noticed them stealing a glance and playfully nudging each other.
But it was Heeseung you were the most concerned about.
His reaction was the most important one to you and, as if the world hated you, his reaction was the only one you couldn’t read. He sat completely still, staring ahead at the theater screen with his lips pressed together. 
The screen went dark and the end-credits started rolling. Now, you had to deal with the aftermath of your text. It was one thing to let the word out loud, but over text? If you were able to unsend that message without anyone reading it before it went through, you would’ve. 
Then, a horrifying realization struck you. 
After you and Heeseung parted ways with Sunghoon, Jungwon, and Sunoo, you two would have to sit in a car together. Alone. 
You felt your heart drop to your stomach. 
It was clear that Heeseung had feelings for you. He was the one pining after you from the beginning, after all—having the entire workplace be aware of his (initially delusional) crush on you. 
For some reason, though, you were still restless. 
“I think I would just let my life end if John Kramer put me in one of those traps,” Sunoo blurted out as soon as your group exited the theater. You and Heeseung were finishing the last of your popcorn behind him.
“I’d survive it,” Sunghoon said. “I’m built different.”
Heeseung nudged you with his elbow, taking you by surprise. “Did you like the movie?”
You scrunched up your nose. “I don’t usually like gore, but I liked the story before they all started dying.”
Everyone turned their attention to Jungwon, who was strangely quiet. The guy was fiddling with the sleeves of his sweater, eyes cast down to the floor. 
Sunoo asked, “You good?”
“He’s gonna get me,” Jungwon mumbled. 
“Oh my god.” Sunghoon groaned. “For the last time, Jungwon, John Kramer’s a fictional character.” 
“He’s real in my head.”
Heeseung let out a snicker. For every single date following your first failed one, Heeseung swore to stay completely sober so that his high wouldn’t interfere with your dates. You thought it was cute that he committed to it for you, but part of you also wanted to take care of him for once. 
“Yeah, get this guy home. He’s gone,” Heeseung said, patting Jungwon’s back firmly. “Hoon, you’ve gotta stop spiking him.”
Sunghoon frowned. “Why do you think I spiked him?”
“Motherfucker,” Jungwon spoke up, raising his head with a sudden fire in his eyes, “I wouldn’t be this high right now if you didn’t leave your stupid cannabis-infused pretzels out on your table.”
“You also wouldn’t be this high if you didn’t steal my pretzels, so I don’t get why you’re complaining.”
“Didn’t he also accidentally drink your cannabis-infused coffee the other week?” Sunoo recalled, grimacing as he remembered Jungwon walking into Starbucks and attempting to order a cheese burger.
“Before that was the cannabis-infused Rice Krispy,” Heeseung mentioned. 
“You’ve seriously gotta stop trusting whatever’s in Hoon’s fridge,” you told him, “or just anything that’s remotely edible around him.”
After some more commentary on the movie was shared, Heeseung made up some excuse about needing to get you home before it got too dark. The two of you had gone on dates that lasted well into the night, so your heart fluttered pathetically at the thought of him wanting to be alone with you. 
You said your goodbyes to the three boys, reminding them to get home safe, and you and Heeseung parted ways with the group. It was cool outside, but you felt like your entire body was hot and buzzing as you remembered that being alone with Heeseung meant that he could potentially interrogate you about your accidental ‘boyfriend’ text. 
He did nothing of the sort on the walk to his car. You and him cracked jokes about John Kramer all the way to the parking garage, and you started to feel the tightness in your chest unravel slowly. 
That was, until you reached Heeseung’s car. 
Instead of unlocking the doors, Heeseung’s hands slid into the pockets of his gray sweatpants as he leaned against the exterior of the car—right in front of the passenger door. You blinked at him, wondering if he was going to move, but he just held direct eye contact with you as the corner of his lip curled in amusement. 
He cut straight to the point, saying, “So, your text…” 
“My typo,” you corrected with an awkward grin. 
He hummed. “No, you clearly typed ‘my boyfriend’ in the group chat.” 
Your heart was racing. You could feel your pulse in your neck, your arms—every body part that was buzzing uncontrollably. This wasn’t how you wanted to confess to him. Not in a damn group chat, at least. 
“Well, you’re not my boyfriend yet. You’re gonna be my passenger princess if you don’t hurry up and get in the car,” you started rambling faster than you could think, words spilling out before you were even able to properly filter your thoughts. “I’m gonna drive us home, then.”
As soon as you turned to walk around to the other side of his car, Heeseung reached forward to grab your wrist. With a firm tug, he had you stumbling right into his chest. 
And, oh, you never realized just how big he was. 
“H-hey,” you stuttered out, looking up to catch the smirk playing on his lips. “You’re not playing fair.”
“We never decided on any rules.”
Then, your back was pressed against the frame of the car, the cool metal chilling your flushed skin. You swallowed hard as Heeseung towered over you, his hands gripping your waist to hold you in place. Your heart was beating erratically at this point, but you didn’t want to budge and let him win just yet. 
Heeseung dropped his head so that his lips were by your ear. You swore he could pick up on the way your breathing hitched because of his low chuckle. 
“Come on.” His voice was silky and velvet as he murmured against the shell of your ear. “Just let me ask you out already.” 
Although his words were irresistibly tempting, you were firm when you said, “No. I need to be the one to ask you out, and I didn’t wanna do it like this.” Your hand moved up to play with the loose strands of his hair at his neck. “Just wait a tiny bit longer for me. Please?” 
Heeseung sighed, but you could hear the smile in his voice. “Well, I couldn’t ever say no to you, anyway.” 
He pulled back to look down at you, still keeping his hands firm on your waist. 
You held up your hand, making a pinching gesture with your pointer and thumb finger. “Just a little longer.”
“Mmhm,” he agreed. “Can I kiss you, though?”
Your face burned with the heat of a thousand suns. “K-kiss?” 
“Like”—he poked your cheek—“right here.”
“Oh.” Still blushing furiously, you beamed and turned your cheek for him. “Go ahead, sir.”
With a soft giggle bubbling from his lips, Heeseung cupped your jaw gently so that he could press a chaste kiss to your cheek. He was dangerously close to your lips, and you knew that he intended on teasing you as much as possible.
Afterward, he pulled away and fished his keys out of his pockets. “I plan on kissing you for real once we’re dating, though.”
With that, he unlocked the car for you and walked over to the driver’s side. You had to catch your breath to regain your composure before you were able to get into the passenger’s seat. 
On the way home, all you could think about were how pretty the stars were and how much prettier Heeseung was. 
And, man, you really, really liked him.
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prev | masterlist | next
SUMMARY ▸ in which you work at the starbucks where heeseung is a regular at (and considered a public enemy). also he only goes when he’s stoned off his ass.
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adrienneleclerc · 8 months ago
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Hips Don’t Lie
Pairing: Henry Cavill x Hispanic/Latina! Reader
Summary: There is an after party after the premiere of “the ministry of ungentlemanly warfare” and Henry meets his co star, Eiza Gonzalez’s friend, Y/N.
Warning: spelling and grammar errors, non translated Spanish’s because I get lazy.
A/N: this is my first ever real person fanfic so I hope you like it.
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Henry was on the red carpet answering a few questions until it was time to head into the theater with everyone to see his new movie. As he was walking in, he saw Eiza Gonzalez, his costar.
“Eiza, how are you?” Henry said, greeting her.
“Henry, que guapo te ves! I’m definitely not used to your clean shaven look. There’s a party after the premiere, are you going?” Eiza asked.
“I’m not sure, I think I’m going to my hotel after this, spend time with the bear.” Henry said and Eiza giggled.
“You should come! I want you to meet my friend, she came back from her European tour la few days ago, I think you guys would hit it off.” Eiza said.
“Are you really trying to play Cupid?” Henry said,
“I just want you guys to meet, I never said anything about wanting you two to date. But if you happen to fall in love with her, don’t forget to mention me in your wedding toast.” Eiza said.
“Are all Mexicans this delusional or just you?” Henry asked, eiza stared at him. “You’re right, I shouldn’t have said that, sorry.”
“Don’t worry my colonizer friend, it’s fine. And it’s probably just me.” Eiza said.
“How come you get to make jokes about my race but I can’t?” Henry asked.
“You are a straight white man, I rest my case, now let’s get inside, I’m pretty sure we have to make a speech before the movie starts, which I find totally stupid.” Eiza said,
The premiere was over and he went to his hotel room. He thought about how it’s been a while since he dated anyone and decided to call eiza.
“Bueno?” Eiza answered the phone.
“Hey eiza, where is the party?” Henry asked.
“Yes, you’re coming, it’s at xxxx” Eiza said.
“I’ll be right there.” Henry replied and hung up the phone. Henry changed out of his suit to something more casual but still presentable and said goodbye to his dog before asking his driver to take him to where the after party was. When he gets there, he was greeted by Eiza in a fitted dress.
“Yes, you’re here! Great decision, Y/N is probably at the bar, mingle while I go find her. Oh my god, Diego! Compa, como has estado, no te ha visto en…” Eiza greeted her friends walking away from Henry. Henry saw Chris drinking at the bar and decided to walk towards him.
“Henry, buddy, how have you been?” Chris asked, hugging him.
“I’ve been great, how’s married life treating you?” Henry asked.
“Really well, I’m very happy to be back in Boston but I can’t lie, I do miss these parties.” Chris admitted. They kept talking and when they played a Daddy Yankee song, Henry heard a voice screaming.
“AAHH!! Es mi canción! Joel, cuida mi bolsa!” the Woman said, downing a shot of tequila before heading to the dance floor. Henry thought it was Eiza but it was someone else. However, when the woman started dancing, Henry couldn’t take his eyes off of her.
“Hey man, who are you looking at?” Chris asked but he just followed Henry’s line of sight and spotted the woman that was basically demanding the attention of everyone else with her dancing, that’s when Eiza approached the two mean at the bar.
“Whoo, go Y/N! That’s my bestie!” Eiza cheered her on.
“What, that’s Y/N?” Henry asked,
“Yeah, that’s her. I mean, i knew she could dance because I’ve seen her concerts when she performs at the forum, but I never knew she could dance like this.” Eiza said.
“I think your friend is making Hnery want to learn Spanish, he hasn’t taken his eyes off her since she started dancing.” Chris said and Henry hit his chest, still not looking away from the woman dancing.
“Perfect! I’ll get her when the song is over so you can meet her.” Eiza said, clearly excited that henry is interested in her friend. When the song finished, Eiza made her way to Y/N. “Y/N! Como has estado? Que me cuentas de la gira?”
“La gira fue espectacular, todos los fans cantando mis canciones, llevándome flores, estoy súper agradecida. How was the premiere? I wish I could have gone but I wasn’t invited.” Y/N said,
“Sorry! I forgot when your tour ended. Anyway, I have someone I want you to meet.” Eiza walked Y/N over to when’re Henry and Chris were. “Y/N, this is Henry Cavill. Henry, this is Y/N L/N. Chris, come dance with me.” Eiza said, pulling Chris with her, leaving Henry and Y/N alone by the bar.
“Hi.” Henry said bashfully.
“Hey.” Y/N said, fiddling with her fingers.
“I saw you dance, you were amazing, by the way, you seemed really into it.” Henry commented.
“Well i grew up listening to Shakira so you could say my hips don’t lie.” Y/N said and both of them ended up laughing. “Oh my god, I can’t believe I made that joke, que tonta soy, eh.”l
“No no, it’s okay, I laughed, right?” Henry said, making Y/N feel more comfortable.
“But seriously, my mom would put me in these dance classes, well, her friend who taught dance classes would give me free lessons.” Y/N said. “Do you dance?”
“No but I took lessons when I was filming Argyle.” Henry said.
“I haven’t seen Argyle but I really want to see this movie. Like yeah, my bestie is in it, but I really like your look in this movie.” Y/N said.
“Really? You like the messy hair and the full beard?” Henry asked.
“Yeah, your curls show off more than in your other movie, Night Hunter.” Y/N commented.
“So you’re a fan of my movies?” Henry asked.
“Am I a fan of the movies or just the attractive British actor starring in them?” Y/N asked, getting closer to Henry.
“I say you’re a fan of me.” Henry said.
“Bingo! Hope Im not being too forward.” Y/N said
“Not at all.” Henry said. They started playing Propuesta Indecente by Romeo Santos.
“Well, time to put your dancing skills to use, do you think you can dance bachata?” Y/N asked, taking Henry’s hand and led him on the dance floor.
“Only if you show me how.” Henry said.
“Of course, just follow my lead.” Y/N said.
They danced every bachata song that was played, and when they weren’t dancing, they were just talking.
Eiza sips her drink, observing them.
“They would be a cute couple.” Eiza commented to Chris.
“Yeah, he seems happy enough.” Chris said.
“Could I get your number?” Henry asked.
“Of course, give me your phone.” Y/N said. Henry handed her his phone and Y/N gave it back. “I’m gonna head out but I’ll be waiting for your call. Hasta luego, guapo.” Y/N kissed Henry’s cheek and left the party with Eiza. Chris then approached Henry who was holding his cheek where she kissed him.
“What are you thinking about?” Chris asked.
“How much a Spanish tutor costs.” Henry commented.
“Alright, buddy, let’s get back to the hotel.” Chris said, leading Henry to the exit.
The End
Taglist: @warriormirkwood @shellyshellshell
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sunshine-daisies-library · 10 months ago
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staged romance | luke hemmings x actress!reader
summary: when you get the role of a lifetime, luke struggles to support you when he finds out who your scripted love interest is 
word count: 10.8k
warnings: misogyny, arguments, drinking, jealousy, swearing, mentions of cheating, angst
author’s note: the title of the movie/book and the show were smth i made up on the fly so it’s not to be affiliated w other books/movies that are called that lol, it’s all a coincidence. this is also not proofread!
second author's note: the last bit was rushed in the end but let me be clear! my intent was to portray a loving realistic relationship with healthy communication of feelings and borders. of course, things like that are tough to convey in a one-shot alone. talks of jealousy and cheating is heavily mentioned throughout the text, but it is not my intent to make luke appear toxic or y/n seem unfaithful. the two are in a healthy relationship that gets plagued by jealousy, insecurities, and stupid social media! i, in no way, shape, or form, condone toxic relationships and try my best to let that show in my writing. please consult a trusted loved one if you are experiencing a toxic relationship. i love yall and hope the best!
happy reading lovelies <3
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“I’m sure you boys are incredibly busy now more than ever,” the interviewer said, referring to the band’s many new surprises in store. “I can’t help but wonder what you guys are most excited about.”
Luke was nodding along to the woman, barely paying attention and silently hoping for the interview to end faster. Ashton had always teased Luke for having a blank stare during these interviews and the fans have caught on, too, but he couldn’t help being bored talking about the same things over and over again. 
“So busy,” Michael agreed, taking the reins on the question. “We’ve got new music coming out, we’ve been working nonstop to release them and film music videos, too. Not to mention our tour coming up in a couple of months. But to speak for the boys, I think we’re all pretty excited to have our music featured in a movie.” 
Ashton was quick to chime in. “Yeah, we’ve worked real hard on this one, we were in the studio for hours trying to perfect it and we hope we did the movie justice.” 
The interviewer shifted through her binder of notes and questions. “It’s safe to say everyone is stoked to hear it in theaters,” she concluded. “But the question that’s been on everyone’s minds is, Luke, how do you feel about writing a song for a movie your girlfriend is the face of? Could you walk us through that process?” 
Calum quietly nudged Luke in the side, bringing his attention to the woman sitting before them. “Oh yeah,” Luke coughed, readjusting his posture in his chair. “I’m super excited to help bring this story to life, it’s been a real journey to go through the entire process of it all. I’m especially proud of y/n for getting the lead role, it’s been a dream of hers to get this far and I’m so lucky to have her in my life and watch her grow as an actress.” 
“Aw,” Ashton leaned into his mic, making the boys laugh. “So cute.” 
“Very cute,” Luke retorted with a small smile. “She’s great and definitely deserves this role; she’s worked so hard on it and it really shows on the screen. As for the music, I agree with Ash when he said we worked our asses off on it. y/n definitely put in a lot of input on this one, not actually, but she was a great inspiration throughout the writing and producing process.”
Michael grinned at his friend, picking up his mic. “He’s downplaying it,” he quipped. “When the producer reached out to us to write something up for the movie, Luke was really into it. I mean reading through the tidbit that the producer sent us, rereading the book the movie was based on, all of it. Out of the four of us, Luke was really the one who took the wheel on this project and y/n was a big part of the reason why.” 
Luke turned red at Michael’s explanation, but it was true. He was ecstatic to hear they wanted 5 Seconds of Summer to add to their soundtrack, and he was even more excited to hear it was for the very movie you just received the lead role for. You both found out the news on the same day and were over the moon excited. 
“I got the part!” you yelled, running down the hall to Luke’s office with Petunia following close behind you. “Babe! I got the part-”
Luke swung the door open, a look of disbelief on his face. “They want us to write a song for the movie,” he announced. 
Your eyes were wide at his news. In an instant, you jumped into his arms and he caught you, spinning you around as you both let out shouts of joy. Luke peppered kisses down your face and neck, anywhere he could reach, in pride. 
“I’m so proud of you, baby,” he told you earnestly. “I’m so so proud of you. You earned this!” 
“We earned this,” you corrected him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling into a kiss.
“Guilty,” Luke sheepishly admitted to the interviewer. “I love my girl, what can I say?”
The woman let out a chuckle before getting back into the interview. “All the fans are happy to hear that,” she told him. “Last question and it’s for Luke again;  so Michael said that you read the book for “What Lies Between Us,” and so you probably know that there are a couple explicit scenes in there, particularly between the lead and her love interest, played by Harry Styles. We all are very aware of your past with One Direction, having toured with them and gaining your fame through the tours. How do you feel about your girlfriend and friend coming together for these intimate scenes?” 
The boys “oohed” immaturely as Luke blushed, shaking his head. You had already told him there would be scenes like that in the movie, not because he was jealous or would prevent you from doing them, but just to be open with him. After a discussion, the both of you were on the same page about the scenes, agreeing that it’s just work and holds no value offset. 
“Yeah, n/n told me about them,” Luke chuckled, taking a sip of water. “And I don’t have anything to say about them. y/n is a great actress and so is Harry. They’re respectable workers and take their job seriously. I trust them both, not that that matters.” 
“Well said,” the interviewer applauded. “So even beyond the explicit scenes, do you mind that they will be portraying lovers throughout the film?” 
Luke set his water on the ground. “I mean, who doesn’t love Harry Styles, he’s handsome,” he joked playfully. Luke’s crystal blue eyes stared deeply into the camera. “No, I don’t mind at all. It’s all for the movie. Styles may have my girl in the morning and afternoons, but at night she’s mine to hold to sleep.” 
Luke entered the bedroom, sighing loudly as he hunched over to throw off his shirt. You had been laying there waiting for his arrival home, reading over your agenda and going over your lines in your pajamas under the covers. Petunia was sleeping soundly at the foot of your bed, unbothered by his usual antics. 
“You’re home late,” you mused, setting your pen down. “Everything okay, bub?” 
Luke moaned and groaned while kicking off his dress pants and replacing them with his more comfortable pair of sweatpants, eventually falling face down onto the bed. You giggled at his dramatics, your hand going to play through his blond curls. He relaxed at your touch as he reached for your hand and kissed it softly. 
“Do you think Harry is more handsome than me?” he asked, eyes peering up at yours. 
You raised your eyebrows curiously. “Do you want the answer of a 1D fan since high school or the answer of your loving girlfriend?” you joked. You and Luke both knew how deep your love for One Direction was as a teenager. He loved to tease you about your posters and t-shirts, not to mention the Harry Styles cardboard cutout you received as a birthday present one year.
Luke let out another grumble as he rolled onto his back. You scooted forward to rest his head on your lap. “Both,” he decided. 
You hummed, resuming your twirling of Luke’s hair. “Well as your girlfriend,” you began. “I think you are the most handsome man to ever walk this planet.” 
“And the 1D fan?” he begrudgingly asked.
You took your finger and softly traced along the bridge of his nose, trailing down to his jawline. “I think Harry Styles is very very handsome,” you answered. Watching Luke scrunch his nose in childish jealousy, you leaned in closer. “But I think the lead vocalist of the band that opened for One Direction was way better looking, sweeter, and all around so much better,” you whispered as though you were letting him in on a secret. 
Luke pushed you away, sighing loudly once again as you threw your head back in laughter. “That’s the girlfriend speaking!” he whined. 
“We’re one and the same, Lu,” you scolded playfully, reaching for your boyfriend. “Just because my seventeen year old self was too obsessed with Harry doesn’t mean I don’t love you and find you all the more attractive now.” 
Luke let out an unconvincing huff, making you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “What’s gotten into you, bub?” you asked, concern taking over your curiosity. 
“The interview was all about you and the movie today,” he responded, tucking himself into bed and taking his spot beside you, nestled warmly in your chest. 
You snorted, resting your hand back into his hair. Not only were his curls extremely soft at the touch and soothing to play with, you knew -while he would never admit it aloud- Luke loved when you played with his hair. “Didn’t realize I was a tough topic to talk about,” you jested. 
Luke rolled over so he was practically laying half of his body on yours. “Nooo,” he said, voice muffled by your shirt. “You know I love to talk about you, baby. It’s just I got a question about you and Harry being love interests.” 
You stiffened, clearly caught off guard. “Oh,” you could only muster out. 
The musician nodded, burying himself into your chest and wrapping his arms around your waist. “People can be so annoying sometimes,” he huffed in frustration. “Why would I care if my girlfriend is playing Harry Styles’ love interest? It’s not like it changes anything between us or between me and Harry.”
“It’s because people are misogynistic and gross,” you explained with an equally upset frown. “Just because I’m a woman in the film industry, they think I’m going to fling myself at any man I act with. It was the same for my last movie. I don’t understand why people are so quick to judge and point fingers.” 
Luke lifted his chin and cupped your cheek affectionately. “I’m so sorry this is what you have to deal with everyday,” he apologized. “It’s bullshit, and I’ve made it crystal clear that you should be respected and valued for your work, not who you kiss or whatever on the screens.” 
“You can always shut down the questions if they ask you,” you reminded him. “You don’t have to make yourself uncomfortable.”
Luke bit his lip in thought, a habit you found adorable and mesmerizing to watch. “But I’d rather answer these questions and stop the narrative about actresses and showmances. It’s not fair for you guys to be scrutinized about your love lives and image while male actors never get those kinds of questions.” 
Your lips trembled in awe of Luke’s small rant. You had never felt so loved and appreciated by the man like you did right now. He was ever a gentleman in a world of childish boys. “You know I love you, right?” you asked him with a tearful smile. 
Luke raised his thumb to the corner of your eyes to wipe away a stray tear. “It’s the bare minimum to support my girl,” he told you. “I love you, too, baby.”
Settling back down under the covers with your lover, you rested your head on top of his. “You don’t have to worry about me and Harry,” you reassured him. “It’s strictly business between us, and he’s aware of that.” 
“I’m not worried,” Luke said, his eyes fluttering closed. “Get some sleep, love. You got an early morning ahead of you.” 
The next morning, you woke up refreshed with your boyfriend still fast asleep beside you. You smiled to yourself, taking a mental image of the singer nestled beside you. His arm was snug around your waist and his nose was buried in your chest, a normal routine you’ve found the both of you falling into when he was home from tours. What you hated the most was ending said routine when you had to wake up before him for filming. 
You slowly removed his arm and slid out from under the sheets, trying to not wake him. Of course, ever the heavy sleeper, Luke remained asleep, taking one of your pillows as an adequate replacement for you. You quietly began your morning routine of brewing coffee for yourself, brushing your teeth, and styling your hair. Petunia followed behind you, being the momma’s girl she was. You let her go outside as you got started on preparing breakfast. Normally, you’d make breakfast and coffee for two but you were called for an earlier shoot, barely before sunrise, so Luke would no doubt be asleep for a while.
Finished with breakfast and giving Petunia her required pets and kisses, you went back upstairs to get dressed for the day. You thought you had been relatively quiet, but nonetheless the singer woke up to you, half dressed, on the other side of the room.
“What a sight for sore eyes,” his raspy voice praised.
You turned your head around as you slipped on a pair of pants, rolling your eyes at him. “You should be asleep,” you scolded lightly. 
“And you should still be in bed with me,” he reprimanded in the same tone. Luke lazily reached across the bed for you, only short by a few inches. 
“I have to be in for an early shoot,” you reminded him. “You know I’d be asleep right beside you if I had the choice.” 
Luke groaned, making you laugh as you ruffled his hair similar to how you’d pet Petunia. “Why can’t you call out?” he whined like a toddler. 
You kissed his forehead and set for the door. “If I did, I’d be out of a job,” you told him. “Then who would Harry kiss on camera?”
“Not funny!” Luke yelled out as you grabbed the rest of your things and left your home. 
“Love you!” you shouted back, closing the door behind you. 
Luke rolled over back to his side, grabbing his phone and absentmindedly scrolled through Twitter. He figured that since he was already awake, he might as well look through his notifications before formally getting up. 
On Twitter, he realized in the bottom of his screen that he received thousands of tagged mentions. Curious, he clicked on the icon to see multiple photos of you and Harry outside the studio. You two were snuggled under a blanket, far too close for his liking. The smile on your face was one Luke was familiar with because it was the look you always gave him. Jealousy burned in his chest before he realized it. 
outofstyles: harry styles and y/n l/n is a pair we didn’t ask for but ended up needing SEVERELY
stylesupdatesdaily: styles-l/n was NOT on my bingo card this year but i am here for it!!! #styles-l/n #wlbumovie
lukehemmingslipring: why are people shipping harry and y/n when she’s been dating luke since way before the SGFG era??? and why am i fucking with it???
y/nismother: @lukehemmingslipring don’t tell me they broke up because if they did love isn’t real :(
y/nismother: @youngblood__irwin SEND THE LINK PLEASE!!!!!
Luke frowned at the back and forth in the comments, as well as additional tweets he was tagged in regarding the Hemmings vs. Styles drama, a drama he didn’t even knew had begun. Frustration and envy brewed inside him despite his strong attempts to fight the urge. He had promised you he wouldn’t get jealous. Hell, he didn’t expect himself to feel this way. He knew you, of course. And he knew Harry very well. In his right mind, he knew there was nothing behind the photos nor your staged romance. But the damn photos and tweets and people raising the question of the stability of his relationship…anger was clouding his mind and he could barely think straight. 
By the time you got to set, you were rushed into hair and makeup. You were used to the fast paced nature of the studio and settled into your routine with ease. As your hair designers twisted and pulled your hair back to prep for your wig, you saw a familiar figure catch your eye. 
“Good morning, darlin’,” Harry greeted with a chaste kiss on your cheek. You snorted at his thick Southern accent he had been practicing all year long. While he had improved significantly, you found that his drastic change from a charming British lad to a cheeky Southern man was still too bizarre to get accustomed to.
“Hello, honey,” you said back in a Chicago accent, remembering to stay still for the dressers to apply your wig. The accent you portrayed was one that your character had, a sharp-tongued divorcee. “Didn’t expect you to come in on time.”
“Love, I’m always on time,” he chuckled, sitting beside you to allow the artists to work their magic. “You’re just cooped up in your trailer doing God knows what with that husband of yours.” 
You laughed, eyes shut as your dear friend and makeup artist Alisha applied eyeshadow. “Not my husband,” you corrected him. 
“Well you’ve been dating him long enough for him to might as well be,” he joked. “You seriously mean to tell me Hemmings hasn’t put a ring on your finger?” You nodded as much as you could, considering Alisha was very adamant on perfecting your concealer under your eyes. “Well, he’s got to get a move on before I make a move myself.”
The two of you laughed, knowing the banter was light and all jokes. “Careful now, sweetheart,” you said, reverting back to your Chicago accent. “Mr. Hemmings might get a little jealous.” 
“Can’t have that now, can we?” he drawled, back in his Southern accent. “But you make such a pretty little wife on screen, how can I resist?” 
“You tease!” you exclaimed, clutching your heart and remaining in character. “Mr. McClantire, you know I’m a faithful woman.” 
Finished with his makeup, Harry stood up and readjusted his suit jacket. “Mrs. Abernathy, a lady like you should be cherished,” he explained, taking your hand and brushing his lips against his lightly. “I’ll meet you on set.” 
You chuckled, taking your hand back to fix your hat your stylist had expertly pinned to your head. “I’ll see you then, Mr. McClantire.” 
Leaving you be, Harry left the dressing room and gently closed the door. Alisha clicked her tongue at the British singer turned actor, shaking her head. “Always a tease, isn’t he,” she hummed, applying hair spray liberally. “He better watch himself or the media will end up in a frenzy with his flirtatious attitude.” 
“He’s a sweetheart, I know he means no harm,” you defended him, sipping your tea serenely. “I do believe he’s been seeing someone though so I know there’s no weight to his words. But I do admit his habits are going to make Twitter go crazy. Luke has already gotten wind of some of the news and gossip.” 
Alisha rested her hand on her hip, lips pursed in thought. “Only a matter of time before he gets jealous,” she mused playfully. 
“He won’t,” you said back, not expecting Alisha’s warning.
“Oh honey,” she shook her head. “You know men, they’ll get jealous.” 
Luke looked at the TV through the mirror reflection in his dressing room as he adjusted his dress shirt’s sleeves. Nearly a while had passed since the finish of filming and it was a matter of days until the movie’s premiere. Your schedule consisted of plenty of interviews and promo events which resulted in more drama tabloids being released about you and Harry. A scowl rested on his
and Harry on the screen talking with the host of the show. You were animatedly telling a story while Harry’s arm rested behind you. Albeit casual, Luke couldn’t help but glare at the gesture. 
“If looks could kill, he’d be dead,” Ashton mused from behind the blond singer. 
Luke brushed off his comment, turning away from the vanity. “I just wish he’d keep his bloody hands off her,” he muttered enviously. 
Calum was distractedly scrolling through his phone on the couch, no doubt bored, waiting for their cue to get on stage. “And sit fifty miles away from her?” he suggested plainly, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “Mate, they’re friends, of course they’re going to sit beside each other.” 
“But with his arm around her?” Luke pressed impatiently, fighting the urge to run his fingers through his hair. You reminded him constantly before arriving at the studio to not touch his hair. You’d worked so hard to style and gel it while he focused on his makeup. The blond settled for crossing his arms on his chest and tapping his foot. 
“Yeah,” Michael agreed with Luke. “He should cut it off,” he joked, dodging Luke’s swat of his hand. 
Ashton patted Luke’s shoulder, setting him down on the couch. “Calm down, Luke,” he instructed. “Take some deep breaths or else you’ll pop a vein. I understand how annoying publicists have been with Harry and n/n, but you shouldn’t let them get to you.” 
“How can I when they talk about my girl?” Luke seethed, his composure rigid. “They talk about her like she’s a fame chaser, going after Harry for publicity even though she’s been practically an A-lister since she was a kid.” Luke shuffled in his seat, frown permanently on his face. 
“Then I hardly see how Harry’s got anything to do with it,” Calum raised an eyebrow. 
Luke stood up from the couch as quickly as he had sat down. “Because he’s–he’s–” Luke stumbled over his words. Finding no reasonable excuse, he angrily kicked his foot against the table only to yelp in pain, clutching his foot and jumping up and down. “That fucking pretty boy.” 
Michael sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You can’t really give into those gossip tablets, can you?” he genuinely asked. 
Luke paused, long enough for the boys to shake their heads in disappointment. “It’s the hair!” he lamely blamed, throwing his hands in the air. 
The boys’ conversation was interrupted by a set assistant, knocking on the door while opening it. “Five minutes till your performance,” the boy squeaked. 
Ashton was the one to speak up for the group. “Thanks, Roberto,” he said gratefully. The moment the boy left, Ashton turned to the boys. “We’re going to discuss this more later after the show. Luke, please be civil with Harry.” 
“Says the one who fucked his sis-”
“None of that now,” Ashton cut Michael off, not wanting to rehash his past. “Now let’s get on stage before they have our heads.” 
The boys made their way down to the set, hiding discreetly behind the curtains. A frenzy of assistants scurried by, ensuring that the boys had their instruments and everything was perfect before they got on stage. 
“Ladies and gentlemen, Five Seconds of Summer!” 
The stage manager nodded at the cue, ushering the boys through the entrance. Luke was the first to walk through, waving at the audience and smiling at fans screaming in the back. They got settled on the side stage, instruments in tow as they turned to the host of the night. 
“Thank you for having us, Jimmy,” Luke spoke into the mic, trying not to wince at the squealing girls in the crowd. His eyes were trained on you, who had stood up and clapped for the band as they came in. You were now seated, eyes sparkling in excitement. 
Jimmy Fallon leaned back in his chair. “We’re glad to have you, Luke,” he responded. “Hope the dressing room wasn’t too snug for your guys?”
“Oh no Jimmy, we quite enjoyed it,” Ashton answered from behind his kit. “Reminds me of the good old days when we’d share Luke’s bedroom to change before filming our performances on YouTube.” 
The crowd laughed at Ashton’s quip, Jimmy especially as he shook his head in laughter. “Good to hear,” he said. “And what do you guys have for us today?” 
Michael was next to take the lead. “Well initially we thought we were going to perform our song for What Lies Between Us,” he began, followed by more applause and cheering. “But we thought it would be better to leave that for the premiere.” 
“Correction: our publicist thought it would be better,” Calum joked, however there was no fabrication behind it; their publicist did think it would be best.
“So we decided to play a song from our album that’s yet to come out,” Michael finished. “Jimmy, this is “Bad Omens.”” 
The crowd loved the song as much as you did, finding that song to be one of your favorites of the album. Upon finishing the song, the boys set down their instruments for the backstage staff to collect and made their way to the couches. 
You and Harry stood up to greet each of them, Harry with a handshake and you with a kiss on the cheek. Luke took your hand, kissing you brightly on the lips before sitting down beside you. Jimmy made a cheeky face, teasingly looking at you and your boyfriend. The crowd chuckled at his behavior and you did the same while Luke kept his hand possessively on your knee.
“Well this is a new development,” Jimmy mused, folding his hands on top of his desk. 
You waved off his comment with an airy giggle. “Oh this?” you asked, gesturing between you and Luke. “Old as time.” 
“We’ve actually been together for what, a little over ten years now?” Luke explained, glancing over at you with a proud smile. He relished the feeling of the crowd clapping and whooping at your relationship. 
Jimmy whistled at Luke’s comment. “And no ring on the finger?” he pressed. “I mean, you’ve had to have thought about it before?” 
You nodded reassuringly. “Oh a million times,” you responded. “But God knows that when you deal with one of these boys, you have to deal with all of them.” You jabbed your thumb at the three boys to the left of you, shoving their lanky arms against each other as they tried to get comfortable on their seats. Luke cleared his throat to get their attention, the boys flushed in the face as they quit their quarreling. “I’ve known them since they went on tour with One Direction and we finally ended up dating afterwards. But now, I’m ready to get married and settle down. I’m just waiting on Hemmings, here.” 
Luke chuckled at your last comment, seemingly taking them lightly. You furrowed your eyebrows at his reaction, but decided not to act upon it. “She’s very much so anticipating that question, Jimmy,” he confessed. “It’s only a matter of time, but I’m in no hurry. This one, however…” he trailed off, grinning at you.
“A girl has dreams,” you defended yourself. 
Jimmy snapped his fingers at your words, a thought coming back to him. “Yes, you certainly do!” he exclaimed, reaching under his desk for a frame as he changed the subject. Confusion and hurt brewed inside you, but you quickly pushed those feelings down. “y/n, you’re not a stranger to dreams, right?”
“Oh, definitely not,” you agreed with a dubious expression on your face. 
“So I hope you don’t mind when I show a little memento from the past your mother sent over.”
“Oh God,” you groaned, turning to hide your face in Luke’s shoulder. “What did she send over now? I told you to lose her number, Jimmy.” 
Jimmy raised his hands up in surrender. “She makes a great lunch partner,” he defended himself. “y/m/n, if you’re watching tonight, we’re still on for Tuesday?” You rolled your eyes as Harry threw his head back in laughter. “Joking, joking, not really, but-” 
“Jimmy,” you said in a warning tone. 
“Alright, alright,” he relented. “Anyways, your mother found a letter you wrote back when you were in middle school to the tooth fairy-”
Michael choked on his own saliva, jerking forward. “n/n, you still believed in the tooth fairy when you were in middle school-”
“I don’t want to hear it, Clifford,” you clipped back through your teeth as you smiled rigidly. You still had one last baby tooth in at the time, you still had your hopes out for the mythical creature.
Jimmy raised his hand to cut off the side chatter as he read from the framed letter. “And you, at age thirteen, had one dream that you wished the tooth fairy would grant you.” 
“Dear Tooth Fairy,” he read aloud as you crumbled in embarrassment. “I have finally lost my last tooth, so I guess this will be the last letter I can send you.”
“Aww,” the boys gushed in unison, causing you to shoot them an icy glare. 
“To end this amazing tooth filled saga, I have one last wish. You see, it’s been my dream to meet One Direction.” 
“Jimmy!” you screamed, covering your face in humiliation as the memories started to flood in. Luke covered you in his arms as you folded over yourself, laughing along but equally curious about what was in the letter.
Jimmy, nonetheless, continued reading. “And I have a favorite singer in the band. If you could pull some strings and make Harry Styles my boyfriend, I swear to you I’ll write a letter to you everyday -even though I have no more teeth to give you- and will solemnly swear to be your best friend forever. Let him be my boyfriend, pleaseeeeee.” The audience let out a boisterous laughter as Jimmy emphasized your silly, childish writing. “Love, y/n.” 
More clapping filled your ears as you raised your head to face Jimmy. In the corner of your eye, you saw Harry resting casually beside you, facing you as he leaned against the couch. 
“I’m flattered,” Harry told you, an amused smile resting on his lips.
You pressed your lips in a straight line. “Thanks, Har,” you deadpanned. 
He patted your shoulder in a friendly manner. “No, it’s real sweet,” he reassured you. “Truly, cute, even.” 
“That’s not all we have,” Jimmy spoke up as he put away your framed letter. He waved off your groans and complaints. “It’s not bad, not bad. I’m sure you all remember the Golden Globes back in 2012 when y/n made her first appearance in the hit TV show, The Last Elites of Cardenia.” 
The crowd cheered as a photo of you as a child appeared on the screen. It was a shot of you in the show, dressed up in your furs and pearls as per your character, Cecilia. The next photo was of you on the red carpet with your show family. Your braces were highly visible in your smile, making you wince at the rough photo. 
“I loved that show,” Ashton sighed, full of nostalgia. “Cal, Michael, and I would binge that show every night after concerts.” 
“You didn’t watch it, Luke?” Jimmy asked curiously.
Luke sheepishly shook his head. “No, I didn’t,” he answered honestly. 
“I’m offended, babe,” you teased, your hand over your heart in mock offense.
Michael snorted. “It’s not like he didn’t like the show,” he told you. “He just could barely follow the storyline whenever you popped up on screen.” 
The boys gave Luke playful punches as he blushed. “I-I couldn’t help it!” he exclaimed. “You were just so cute on screen, you were my celebrity crush for the longest time. I mean you were a right entitled bitch in the show but meeting you in real life, I just was-“
“So down bad,” Ashton finished for him. Luke was about to correct him but you were quick to cut him off. 
“Baby,” you cooed, pinching his cheek. 
Jimmy laughed along with the conversation, pointing towards the screen as he spoke. “Speaking of celebrity crushes,” he continued. “We have this old footage of you on the red carpet answering some questions.” 
The day was bright as you appeared on the screen. A youthful innocence covered your entire self, from the way you gathered yourself to your voice. A woman was behind the camera, only her hand holding the microphone could be seen.
“And who might you be?” the woman asked you. 
You smiled brightly. “I’m y/n!” you chirped. “y/n l/n but most people know me as Cecilia from The Last Elites of Cardenia.”
“Nice to meet you, y/n, I’m Mei,” the woman greeted, shaking your hand. “This is your first time here at the Golden Globes, how are you feeling?” 
“Oh, I’m sooo excited, Mei,” you answered honestly and giddily. You could hardly stand still. “My mom picked my outfit today so I’m feeling very confident and pretty!”
“And who do you want to see most today?” 
You cocked your head in thought. “Harry Styles!” you exclaimed. “I heard One Direction’s going to be at the after party, so I really hope to see him. He’s my biggest celebrity crush,” you gushed unabashedly.
The clip ended and everyone turned to you, where you were frozen and wide-eyed.
“Where the hell do you find this stuff, Jimmy,” you sighed, face palming annoyedly. 
“Oh, the vault, you know,” Jimmy responded cheekily. “But that leaves us wondering how you feel now, starring alongside your celebrity crush in the film “What Lies Between Us?”” 
You tapped your chin. Harry glanced over at you. “Be honest, darling,” he reminded you in a sing-songy voice. 
“Well I can definitely say that my teenage self is absolutely losing her mind,” you answered. “It’s something out of a dream, if you think about it. I mean, I never knew I’d come far enough to star in a highly anticipated movie, nevertheless star alongside Harry. It’s a blessing, surely, but now, I think that fangirl side of me has been laid to rest.” 
Jimmy turned to your boyfriend. “And what do you think, Luke?” 
The musician gave the host a close lipped smile. “Whatever makes n/n happy,” he settled brusquely.
Jimmy, satisfied with his response, began asking questions for the other boys about touring and their music. You whipped your head around and raised an eyebrow at Luke for his short response, but Luke didn’t make eye contact with you. Concerned, you reached for his hand on his knee but he pulled back, folding his hands together. Never had you felt more confused and isolated than you did at that moment. You used to be able to read his mind, but now it felt like he’d closed his mind in walls you couldn’t seem to get past. 
“What was that about?” you demanded, following closely behind Luke as you walked into your shared home. 
After that awkward end to the show with Jimmy Fallon, you, Harry, and the boys went out to dinner. You thought that moment with Luke was just a one-off thing, but he remained in his rigid composure for the rest of the night. The boys would talk boisterously throughout the dinner, sharing stories of the past tours with One Direction and catching up on life afterwards. But Luke was the only one who remained silent, opting to focus on his glass of red wine he never seemed to finish. You made attempts to speak to Luke, nudging him or trying to meet his eyes from across the table but he refused to look up the entire time. Frustrated, you let it be but it was clear you were upset to the rest of the table. Harry had even pulled you aside after you all paid for your meals, asking if things were alright and if he had overstepped at all. You reassured him he did nothing wrong, it was Luke who was being childish at the moment.
 “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he brushed you off, heading upstairs to your bedroom. He removed his suit jacket and started unbuttoning his dress shirt nonchalantly, as if he hadn’t done anything wrong or pissed you off. 
You entered the bedroom, heels kicked off as you crossed your arms on your chest. “Let me refresh your mind,” you spat. “You’ve been nothing but rotten towards Harry and I tonight. What’s gotten into you? I thought you said you wouldn’t get jealous-”
“And I’m not,” Luke fought back. “God, you can be so conceited sometimes, y/n.” 
“So that’s what it is?” you snapped back. “I’m just being self-centered and your head isn’t stuck up your ass?” 
Luke aggressively pulled his sleeves up, leaving half of his buttons undone while placing his hands on his hips. “Yes, it would appear so,” he answered shortly. “You’re overthinking what’s going on, y/n, I don’t know what to tell you.”
“Do not gaslight me, Luke Hemmings,” you ordered, walking up to him to stand chest to chest. “I know your mother taught you enough for you to know that is not the way to go when arguing with me.” Luke huffed, giving in on that one statement because you were right; he did know better.
“Fine,” he muttered. “I am upset. And I have every reason to. I don’t like how close you and Harry have gotten, okay?”
Your jaw dropped in utter shock. “You mean my coworker?” you clarified sarcastically. “I’d hope I’d be close with him considering we’re playing lovers in the damn movie-” 
“There you go again!” Luke’s voice boomed across the room, throwing his hands in the air. “You and Harry being lovers. Sometimes I’m led to believe it’s more than for the movie with the photos I’ve seen and the mere way you act with him.” 
“Luke, I have no idea what to tell you,” you fumed. “We are acting. I have no romantic feelings for him and he has none for me. He’s seeing someone, for crying out loud! I thought you had enough trust in me to know nothing is going on between me and him.” 
“I do trust you,” he argued. “But you couldn’t possibly look me dead in the eye and tell me you didn’t have romantic feelings at all during filming. You have been crushing on him for far too long for that to just go away.” 
You hesitated, your face burning with frustration and humiliation. You hated to admit there was some truth to his statement. “I-I,” you stumbled over your words.
Luke’s nostrils flared as he glared at you, proving his point exactly. You threw your hands in the air. “He was a celebrity crush from when I was a teenager, Luke!” you shouted exasperatedly. “I had a little crush, that was it! And maybe it resurfaced a little at the beginning but I swear to you I don’t have those feelings anymore. It was a childish crush, Luke, you’ve got to believe me when I say that. I love you.” 
Tears lined both of your eyes as you went to reach for his hand. Your thumb grazed his ring, the one you bought for him for your first anniversary. “I really don’t know,” Luke whispered, slowly pulling his hand away.
Your heart shattered at his words, falling to the ground you stood on. You had dedicated ten years of your life to this man, ten of the best years of your life to him. You grew up with him, made the best and worst mistakes of your lives, and survived all of that together. He was your person, your lover, your one being that you’d lay down your life for. Yet, the moment your relationship is tested, he falters. But you couldn’t blame him. One little crush resurfacing, and that managed to wipe out everything you ever created for yourself over the past decade.
You took a deep breath, fighting the urge to fall over and sob on the ground. Your hands opened and closed into fists as you took a step back. “Fine,” you said, shaky and uncertain. Luke almost caved at your voice, the mere way you spoke. You had always carried yourself with dignity and confidence. He was the one who stripped you of that, and you were just a shell of who you once were. 
“I think I’m going to spend the night at Crys’s,” you told him, walking over to your closet and pulling out a bag. “It’s clear we both need space and time apart.” 
Luke shook his head, taking your wrist. “Don’t do that,” he said. “Your premiere is in two days, you’re going to be worn out and exhausted if you don’t sleep right. I’ll head over to Cal’s and you can stay here.” 
Taking back your wrist, you continued to pack your things. “It’s your house, Luke,” you reminded him. “Don’t worry, I’ll be okay spending the night with Crys and Michael.” 
“Don’t bother them,” Luke insisted. “They’ve been busy building the nursery for when they plan on trying for a baby and-” 
You winced at his words. He didn’t understand how much he hurt you with them, where he was only looking out for their sake and not yours. Realizing the deeper meaning behind his words, Luke tried to correct himself when you just raised your hand to stop him. He had said enough for the night, and so had you. 
“I’ll find a hotel,” you finally decided. Luke was silent, heart aching and yearning for you, but too frozen to speak up and do anything about it. Finished packing, you zipped up your bag and turned back to him. “Goodnight, Lukey,” you said, kissing him on the cheek before leaving the house entirely. 
Driving down the streets of L.A. you managed to find a small hotel on the side of the road that looked safe enough to spend the night. Carrying your bag, you pathetically entered the hotel in your dress from the late night show and a pair of flat shoes you slipped on before leaving. Your hair was no doubt a mess, no longer styled to perfection as Alisha once had it. Your mascara was probably running down your face, too. God, you looked like a mess in front of this poor worker. 
The boy lifted his eyes to meet yours, slowly recognizing who you were but deciding to not speak on it. You looked like you had gone through enough tonight. “Room for one?” he asked you. You wordlessly nodded, rummaging through your bag to find your wallet for ID and your card. Handing them to the worker, you kept your gaze on your bag. In the process, you found your phone and checked your notifications. 
Lukey &lt;;3: please let me know when you arrive safely
You: im here now
Lukey &lt;;3: okay, love. use the card i gave you to pay for your room
You: no, it’s fine.
You left the conversation at that, not caring if it were dry. You were exhausted and didn’t want to fight with him anymore. You had no more fight in you to give him. 
The boy behind the desk handed you back your things along with your key card for the night. “Let me know if you need anything at all to improve your stay,” he told you politely. 
You fought the urge to scoff at the boy. Like you could do anything to improve your stay, tonight was hell as it is. But you reminded yourself it wasn’t his fault you were arguing with the love of your life; it was yours. Thanking him quietly, you made your way to your room and tossed your bag on the foot of your bed, tucking yourself in next, still in your evening wear. You didn’t care if you’d ruin your dress or damage your face from leaving your makeup on overnight. It was too much for you to deal with right now. 
Lukey &lt;;3: goodnight, y/n
read 2:43 am
The next two days were utter torture for Luke. He kept contact with you through it all, ensuring that you had eaten, slept, etc. but that was all you’d tell him. Luke couldn’t decide whether or not he was grateful for your shortness with your words, if it would make him cave and go to you and forget everything or make him more upset. He was grateful he had your location still on his phone, and you had his. At least he could check on you and make sure you were alright and not in any trouble. 
Luke was also guilty of checking if you had gone to Harry’s house. Guilt and upset rumbled in his stomach, as he felt like he crossed a boundary and invaded your privacy. But how could he not be curious about your whereabouts when you had confessed to him you still had some feelings toward Harry? It didn’t matter that you said those feelings came and went. What would happen if you tied the knot and you changed your mind about him? 
Luke had trusted you with his life. He took your word as true most of the time, but now he was unsure. He wasn’t sure where he lied with you now. He loved you still, yes, and he’d still sacrifice his own happiness for you. Perhaps he blew things over proportion between the two of you. You swore you still loved him and no longer felt anything for Harry. But why did Luke still feel something wrong in his chest? 
He still had mixed feelings about your argument on the night of your premiere. Luke was in Ashton’s living room, quietly sipping on a beer as he waited for the rest of the band and their significant others to meet them there to travel to the theater together. 
Ashton slipped on his jacket, entering the room and looking over at his friend. “y/n not joining us tonight, mate?” he asked. He knew what had happened those nights ago. He was the first person Luke called the moment you left, staying on the phone with him until five in the morning. You had even called him later that day to ask for his advice. He was grateful you both thought of him as an older brother figure, and he wanted nothing more than to get you both together to talk through it. 
Luke set his bottle down, not wanting to get drunk on your important night. “No,” he replied with a heaved sigh. “She texted me that she’ll get there on her own because Alisha wanted to do her hair and makeup.”
Ashton sat down beside him, patting his back. “That’s good she’s still talking to you, right?” he brought up, trying to look on the bright side. 
“Only because I made her swear to keep me updated,” he grumbled. “If it weren’t for that, I think she’d block my number.”
“Now that’s not true,” Ashton told him seriously. 
Luke shrugged his shoulders. “I practically told her I didn’t trust her anymore,” he said, ashamed of himself. “But it’s fair, isn’t it? I knew in my stomach that there was something going on between her and Harry.”
“But there wasn’t,” Ashton reminded him. “She said her feelings toward Harry resurfaced, but she didn’t act on them in any way.”
“But what if one day she wakes up and realizes she can do so much better than me?” Luke asked, voice cracking. He didn’t want to think about that, but that’s all his mind would conjure. “Then she’ll leave me for him and I’ll be the idiot that was strung along the whole time.” 
Ashton leaned back on his sofa. “I think you owe y/n more credit than that,” he said. “She loves you, she said so herself. And if she really wanted Harry, she wouldn’t have fought for you like she did.”
“You’re right,” Luke supposed. “I just feel so guilty now.”
“You can talk to her after the premiere,” Ashton settled. “Trust me, she wants to talk to you, too.”
The two were interrupted by Ashton’s door swinging open to reveal the remaining boys and their significant others. Ready to go, Ashton and Luke joined them outside to hop into Michael’s car. 
Luke got settled in the back seat, reaching for his seat belt when Crystal turned around to face him. “How are you holding up, bub?” she asked, a comforting smile on her face.
He grimaced but tilted his head in response. “Definitely could be better,” he said earnestly. “But Ash helped me through it.”
Crystal reached behind her to pat his knee soothingly. “I’m glad,” she said. “y/n’s the same. I stopped by her hotel this morning to catch up on things.”
“And she’s okay?” Luke leaned in, interested in learning anything about your whereabouts and how you’re doing. 
Crystal put on the same expression as Luke. “About the same as you,” she responded. “But don’t worry, everything will work out in the end.” 
Luke braved a smile. “I hope so.”
The carpet leading up to the theater was packed with reporters and photographers trying to get a glimpse of the actors featured in the film. The band was far behind, stuck in the traffic of people stopping them to ask a few questions. 
“Boys!” a man called out. “Over here! I’m here with Vanity Fair.”
The boys shared a glance and went up to the man. “My name is Aamir and I was wondering if I could ask you some questions about tonight.”
Michael stood in the front, taking Aamir’s extra microphone. “Let’s hear them!”
“This is the first time your music is being featured in a movie as big as this,” Aamir stated. “How are you all feeling?”
Calum drew in a breath, deciding to take this question. “I mean, how can we feel?” he responded. “It’s a mix of feelings, I can tell you that. I think on behalf of the band, we’re all just really nervous but excited to put out this music for the film. It’s really different from our typical kind of music, but we hope you all love it the same.” 
“I’m sure we’ll all love what you have in store for us,” Aamir said confidently. “Luke, how are you feeling tonight? It’s a big moment for your girlfriend, y/n l/n, as this is her first lead role in a highly anticipated movie. Can you give us an insight on how y/n is feeling and how you both prepared for tonight?”
Luke tried to not let his rigidity and awkwardness show on camera. There was enough dubious press about the two of you after that show with Jimmy Fallon. “I’m sure she’s over the moon about tonight,” he answered, eyes flickering to the camera. “She’s been so excited for this moment and all her hard work has come down to tonight.”
“And how have you prepared together?” Aamir repeated his second question with curiosity as to why Luke didn’t answer in the first place.
Luke bit his lip, trying to answer without showing he was completely unsure. “Well-“
Cheers erupted from the crowd as a limo approached the carpet. Luke thanked God for that distraction because everyone -including himself- turned to see what the commotion was about. 
You stepped outside of the car, dressed in a long white gown that resembled a wedding dress. Luke could only describe you as ethereal as you shyly waved to the photographers and interviewers. He’d never seen you so shy in public, since you’d been in front of the cameras since you were a child. Your eyes were trained on the ground, a shaky smile on your face that didn’t quite reach your eyes.
Reporters shouted at you, desperate to get a word or two with you. Dazed by the flashing lights and loud noises, you took a step forward to where the people were blocked by a gate. In your nervous stature, you began to tremble, hands reaching out for stability but struggling to do so. Your ankle gave way, causing you to fall to the ground. People shouted and “ooh’ed” but no one ran in to help you. 
Rushing forward, Luke ran over to you and wrapped his arm securely around your waist as he guided you back up. You gasped, looking up at your savior and realizing who it was. His name was on your lips but no sound could come out; you were too shocked to say anything since you hadn’t formally spoken to him in days.
Luke gave you a reassuring smile, eyes glancing down at your lips to silently ask for permission to kiss you. You nodded, allowing him to cup the side of your face to kiss you softly. The moment your lips met his, you felt yourself get regrounded. Knowing he was by your side, you felt like yourself again: more confident. 
The press ate up yours and Luke’s stunt, taking photos left and right of the two of you. You pulled away, your hand on his chest and feeling his heart beat quickly. “Thank you,” you whispered. Luke gave you a small nod but remained silent as he led you to the reporters. 
A young woman caught your attention, pointing her microphone in your direction. “Are you alright, y/n?” she asked you, camera pointed at you. “I’m Irina with TMZ. We’re happy to see you tonight!”
Nerves began to creep in as you drew a blank at her question. Luke’s hand squeezed your hip comfortingly, providing you with the stability and strength you needed to get through the event. Nodding to yourself, you opened your mouth to answer. 
“I’m doing great, thank you,” you answered. “Just some first premiere nerves but they never killed anyone! I’m just really grateful Luke was here to save me from that little trip there.” 
Irina pointed her microphone at Luke, who was taken aback but spoke nonetheless. “Anything for my girl,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders. “It’s her big night and I’m her biggest supporter. She’s my rock for concerts, I’m her rock for premieres. We have each other’s backs.”
Your eyes were stuck on Luke, mesmerized by his face and how his eyelids glistened in the light from his eyeshadow, no doubt from the palette you gifted him on his birthday last year. The corners of your lips quirked upwards, a warm and fuzzy feeling growing in your chest as you looked up at him with pride and love. You almost didn’t hear the interviewer’s final question. 
“y/n, it’s been all over social media how you had a long standing crush on your co-lead, Harry Styles,” Irina stated. You felt Luke’s hand tighten around your hip without him realizing, no doubt irritated by that question. “How did it feel to kiss him and perform in intimate scenes with him?” 
As you opened your mouth to respond, Luke cut in. “Respectfully,” he began. “I think y/n’s work goes far beyond who she kissed or who she did what with. She’s been in the film industry for as long as I can remember, and definitely deserves more questions that dive deeper than who she harbors romantic feelings for.” 
The interviewer’s face flushed in embarrassment. “Of course,” she agreed, rushing to apologize. You simply waved her off, politely excusing both yourself and Luke out of the conversation with grace. 
Luke remained by your side as you made your way through the reporters and photographers, staying silent unless asked a question. You thought he wouldn’t look at you from the way his eyes never met yours -except for when he kissed you, of course- but in fact, he had stared at you the entire time you spoke. Nothing but adoration filled his mind when he listened to you speak about the work you worked so hard to make. It made all of your past problems fade to gray, and he nearly forgot about your whole argument. 
Once you entered the theater, you expected Luke to pull away to find the boys but he didn’t. You stopped in your tracks to turn to him. “You can go back to the boys now,” you whispered gently to him.
Luke was taken by surprise at your words, and hurt flashed across his face. “Do you want me to go?” he asked you.
You were quick to shake your head. “No!” you rushed. “I just thought…you know, it’s your big day, too. I figured you’d want to spend it with them.”
The blond took your hands in his and kissed them softly. “I want to be by your side through it all,” he assured you. “I haven’t seen you in days, and I don’t want a petty fight to get between us and celebrating your greatest achievement.”
Your publicity manager approached you, checking her watch every second or so anxiously. “The movie’s about to start,” she reminded you hurriedly. 
You were about to tell her to give you both a few minutes, but Luke stopped you. “We can talk more later, okay?” he said. You agreed wordlessly, leaning in to give him a quick peck on the lips. 
“Let’s go in together, babe,” you decided. Luke resumed his position beside you, entering the theater together proudly to watch the film the both of you dedicated so much time and effort into. And as Luke took your hand while you both sat in your seats, you knew that everything would be okay in the end. 
Once the movie had ended, Harry invited you and the boys to his home for the afterparty but you politely declined, opting to spend the rest of the night with your beloved boyfriend. 
Now, you and Luke took a walk around the finally quieted city, hand in hand. You were grateful you brought another pair of shoes with you because your heels were killing you, and you were more thankful for Luke who insisted on holding your strappy heels for you as you continued your walk. 
“I really can’t thank you enough for saving my neck there on the carpet,” you said in a slightly teasing tone. “I would have actually melted into the floor if you didn’t come to my aid.”
“I meant what I said when I said I always had your back, y/n,” Luke replied, eyes trained on the sidewalk. 
A pregnant silence followed as you made your way through the city, taking in the lights and cool summer air without any fear of paparazzi following close behind you. You found yourself nervously playing with the rings on Luke’s fingers as you tried to find the right words to say.
“I’m sorry for that night,” you began, avoiding his questioned gaze. “I should have been more open to you about how I felt from the beginning, but I really do promise that I don’t have any feelings for him. Not anymore, at least. It was a teenage dream come true, but…”
Luke raised an eyebrow at you. “But?” he pressed gently.
You stopped walking, turning to cup his cheek affectionately. “But that’s not my dream anymore,” you finished. “My dream is to spend the rest of my life with you by my side. Whether or not you decide to marry me, I want you in my life for all the good, the bad, and the ugly. I’m really sorry for ever making you doubt my love for you, and I’m sorry for not being receptive to your doubts and insecurities.” 
“What makes you think I don’t wanna marry you?” he asked you. “Of course I do. I want to see you walk down that aisle with a dress as giant or as small as you want, as long as you become Mrs. Hemmings at the end of it. Or if you don’t want to take my last name, that’s fine, too. I don’t care if you want a big or small wedding or a wedding at all. If you want to take that oath in the townhouse and officially be mine -and I, yours- I’m perfectly okay with that, too.” 
You bit your lip, trying to fight back your tears. “I was just nervous,” you confessed. “I knew you were upset by those questions about me and Harry, but I was upset, too. I just never told you how upset I was.” A stray tear trickled down your face but you stubbornly wiped it away, not wanting to cry. “We’ve been together for ten wonderful years, and all people would ask me is “when are you getting married?” “when is he going to propose?” And at first, I was fine with it. But the more people asked, the more anxious I was about the stability of our relationship.”
When Luke’s face gave away he wasn’t exactly following what you meant, you continued to explain further. “I’ve read so many tweets and articles about how undesirable I am, from the moment I turned sixteen. And the fact that you kept pushing off the idea of us getting married,” you looked away, embarrassed by your reaction to all of this. “It hurts, Lukey. And I know marriage isn’t a thing to rush into and I don’t want to force you into anything you don’t want, but those drama tabloids just make me feel so insecure.” 
“I didn’t know you felt that way,” Luke frowned, pity settling in, but you waved your hand to brush it off.
“It’s stupid,” you decided, wiping away the extra tears that managed to escape. “I’ve always told you not to give into the press and social media, yet here I am doing that very thing. L-let’s focus on you, Luke.”
“We can talk about my stupid jealousy another time,” Luke fought to stay on topic. “y/n, why didn’t you tell me you were feeling like this? If I had known, I would have said something-”
“But that’s not how proposals work, Lukey!” you exclaimed. “It’s not something you do out of pity. It’s a decision you make when you’re sure and you’re not! That’s okay, I don’t want you to make a decision you’ll only end up regretting just to please me in the present.” 
Luke took your hand in his, forcing you to look up at him. “Why do you think I’d ever regret marrying you?” he questioned. “y/n, you’re the love of my life. You’re definitely not my first girlfriend but I intend for you to be my last. You’re it for me, n/n. I do want to marry you and I intended to propose, I just wanted to find the right time and place for it. As for my behavior the past few months,” he sighed. “It wasn’t right of me to villainize you and Harry. You’re friends and coworkers, of course you’re going to get close. And I knew that the press would twist the narrative to make it seem like you guys were more than friends. I should have felt secure enough in our relationship to trust you completely, but I was also too insecure to let that be. 
“Harry’s great. He’s talented, a better singer than I’ll ever be, and kind hearted. I’ve always felt like I was in his shadow, and seeing him with you made me feel self-conscious all over again. And all those news posts about him being your celebrity crush as a child made me angrier. I know it’s not something I should have blamed you for, I was just so jealous I could barely think straight.” 
Luke stepped closer to you, his breath grazing your face. “I’m sorry for being jealous and ever doubting you,” he said honestly. “I should have trusted you when you said you no longer felt anything for him.”
“I’m sorry for brushing you off and not listening,” you said in response. “I promise you, Luke, you’re it for me, too.” 
Luke choked back a laugh of disbelief, grateful for this whole ordeal getting resolved as he bent down to kiss you deeply. Your hands wrapped around his neck, pulling him in closer to finally taste him, smell him, feel him again. 
Once you pulled back for air, you crinkled your nose as you smiled. “Does this mean we’re engaged?” you asked curiously, eyes sparkling with happiness and love. “You know, since we’re in agreement and everything.” 
“I would have preferred to get down on one knee and that whole spiel,” Luke sighed dramatically. “But yes, I do suppose we are engaged.” 
Grinning, you pulled him back down for another kiss. “We can get to that sappy stuff later,” you insisted. “I just want to spend the rest of my night with my husband-to-be.” 
--
thank you so much for reading! please like and reblog if you enjoyed! <3
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ourloveisforthelovely · 8 months ago
Text
Running from the Daylight (Part 2 Final)
Regulus Black AU
Request: @iluvthe-marauders HI LOVELYYY, HAVENT HAD TUMBLR IN AGESSSSS. Dont know if you remember but i was the one who asked for different harry potter characters and wanted to ask if you'd do a regulus oneshot. where y/n is a halfblood (Remus’ sister) and they run away together?
Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader
Rating: T
Link to Part 1
______
Remus and Sirius arrived back home after midnight to a quiet house. Sirius stood tapping his foot as Remus unlocked the door.
“I can’t believe you didn’t get me cotton candy.”
Remus rolled his eyes before opening the door.
“I can not help that the theater’s cotton candy machine was down. I promise we will go back next week and get you some.”
Sirius scoffed.
“I’ll take Y/n to a movie. She will get cotton candy too.”
Remus chuckled. He made a mental note to tell you that you needed to tell Sirius no more often. You treated him like some kind of pet, making Remus’ life difficult.
“You can be really annoying sometimes. You are aware of that, right?”
Remus said over his shoulder as he tossed his coat on the couch. Sirius was chuckling to himself as he moved to go get a beer out of the refrigerator.
“Yeah, but you love me so there.”
Remus smirked while shaking his head. He was not about to feed into Sirius’ foolishness (no matter how right he was on the subject). A small envelope on the coffee table caught Remus’ attention. It had both his and Sirius’ names on the front.
Frowning, Remus walked over and picked the envelope up. Right away, Remus noticed your handwriting.
“Is she leaving us love notes again?”
Sirius asked, coming back into the room while shoving popcorn into his mouth. Remus rolled his eyes.
“She’s probably begging me to marry you so you don’t go get lost some place.”
Sirius gave Remus a cold glare as his lover tore open the envelope.
“To Sirius and Remus, By the time the two of you read this, I will be out of contact. There have been many things that I have been hiding and it is time that the both of you know. I have been dating Regulus for a while. We are running away together. This is the only way that we can be together and no one have a problem with it. Remus, I know you of all people won’t be happy. You are my big brother and I love you but you need to let me make my own decisions. If I was honest and told you that I was dating Regulus, you would have flipped. Please know that I am not doing this to hurt you. I hope, in time, we can meet again and put this behind us. I beg you to take care of yourself and I love you. Sirius, I want you to know that you were right about Regulus. There is more to him than some cold member of the Black family. He isn’t a death eater and no longer “drinks the family koolaid.” He and I….we are what each other needs. Regulus is still your brother and he loves you. I hope to see the two of you sooner rather than later. I’m sorry but I have to go.
Love, Y/n.”
Remus stared at the letter with his mouth open. Sirius shoved a few more mouthfuls of popcorn in his mouth before realizing that Remus had gone dead silent.
“Moony, what…”
“Y/n ran off with Regulus!”
Sirius stood motionless. He tilted his head as if he was trying to process what his lover actually said. Did Sirius hear Remus right? You ran off with Regulus? Why would you run off with Regulus? Did you even know Regulus? Sirius had never witnessed the two of you speak to each other.
“Regulus? Like my brother Regulus?”
Remus ran a hand through his hair, fighting the urge to start jumping up and down.
“How many other guys named Regulus do you know?”
Sirius held his hands up defensively.
“Just my brother. Why would Y/n run off with Regulus? Do they even know each other apart from us?”
Remus handed Sirius the letter. Sirius frowned as he read the letter, his eyes widening with each word. While he wanted to panic that you jumped ship with his little brother in the middle of the war…he couldn’t. Sirius read your words to him about “being right about Regulus.” Regulus wasn’t a bad guy.
“Regulus is still my little brother, after all.”
Sirius smiled at the thought. His little brother…the real Regulus…the boy Sirius adored so much was still in there. Sirius also smiled at the thought of you being the one who gave him this information. You would be good for Regulus just as Remus was good for him. Sirius could live with that.
“Sirius, say something.”
Remus ordered, feeling on edge. He didn’t know what he was going to do but he needed to do something. Remus was nearly ready to go run about the neighborhood looking for you. Sirius took a breath before speaking.
“Remus, I need you to breathe, mate. Look, I didn’t know about this either. I have my concerns but…they are like us. Maybe Y/n is good for Reg. Let’s give them a chance. Let them come to us.”
Remus paced around quietly for a moment.
“She’s my sister, Sirius.”
Sirius nodded before moving to put a hand on the small of Remus’ back.
“She will always be your sister but for right now Y/n is what Regulus needs. Trust me.”
(two weeks later)
The sound of a tea kettle whistling woke you up from a sound sleep. Yawning, you reached over to Regulus’ side of the bed. His pillow was cold indicating that he had been up for some time. You stretched with a smile before slowly getting out of bed and looking out the window.
You would never get tired of the sight in front of you. Everything was peaceful. Waking up in a quaint little cottage with a field of wildflowers near a lake was your own personal heaven. From the moment that you arrived at the cottage life changed completely. You had gone from being stuck in the middle of a war with no idea how the future would play out to pure blissful peace.
The sound of a small bang in the kitchen tore you from your thoughts. Regulus muttering “son of a bitch” made you smile.
Regulus
That was another thing that you couldn’t help but smile about. In the course of two weeks, you had seen Regulus make a complete change. Now he was no longer the brooding moody young man who always looked mad at the world. He smiled more than you had ever seen him smile before. You noticed how much Regulus being happy reminded you of Sirius. Happy was exactly how you loved seeing Regulus.
Your mind went back to the morning that you arrived at the cottage…
“This place hasn’t changed since I was a child.”
Regulus commented as he sat his bag down. You were looking around the cottage with a pleased little smile on your face.
“It's lovely. I can see why your uncle bought that place.”
Regulus nodded as he started looking through the cabinets.
“As much as Alphard loved our family, he loved being in peace that much more. He saw the cracks and crazy in the Black family. Thank Merlin he saw a way out and away from it all.”
You turned to face Regulus as he took off his suit jacket and started rolling his sleeves up.
“Now we can have our peace.”
You replied as Regulus’ grey eyes rolled up your face.
“Yes, we can. We can have our happily ever after without this stupid war or whatever garbage is going on back in reality land. Maybe in time, Remus won’t hate me for conning you into running away with me.”
You moved to wrap your arms around Regulus’ neck.
“You didn’t do any conning. I wanted to leave as much as you did. I’m not brave like my brother and friends. I don’t want to be involved in some war where people I love on both sides die.”
Regulus frowned before wrapping an around your waist.
“You are braver than you know. You left everything behind for some boy who never deserved a moment of your grace and love.”
“The boy who deserved all of the grace and love.”
You countered with a smile. Regulus leaned his forehead against yours. He didn’t know that you saw the happy smile on his face…but you did.
“Well..if you say so. You know, we’ve never had the opportunity to dance together.”
You couldn’t help the chuckle as Regulus slowly began to move with you in his arms.
“We’ve never had the opportunity.”
Regulus nodded.
“Now we do. Every day…anytime that you want.”
The bedroom door opening pulled you from your thoughts. Regulus stepped in with a small smile on his face.
“Sorry, I didn’t wake you…did I?”
You shook your head before moving to snuggle back into your boyfriend’s waiting arms.
“No…I heard you fighting with the stove.”
Regulus rolled his eyes.
“That damned thing is a menace. We might have to invest in a new one before I catch that one on fire. I see why Kreacher hated our stove at Grimmauld Place now.”
Regulus didn’t have to say it for you to know that he missed Kreacher. That was the only part of his family that he missed.
“We can get a new one whenever you want or you can let me do the cooking. I admire you for trying but I was born to cook on shitty stoves.”
Regulus rolled his eyes before looking back at the bed.
“You haven’t made the bed yet.”
You nodded.
“I just got out of it.”
Regulus reached out to gently push the strap of your nightgown off of your shoulder.
“We can mess it up a little more before you make it up…for the day.”
Wrapping your arm around his shoulders, you stood on your tiptoes kissing Regulus slowly.
“I love that idea.”
Right as things were starting to get heated there was a loud knock at the door. Regulus pulled away as you reached for your silk robe.
“Who the hell is that? We don’t have friends. That is the problem with visitors. They always come visiting.”
You grabbed your wand and followed Regulus down the stairs. Part of you was wondering if it was the friendly widow who lived down the road a bit. The other part worried that it was some member of the Black family to attempt to drag Regulus home.
“Do you have your wand?”
Regulus whispered.
“Armed and ready to go.”
You replied as Regulus moved to the front door. He was ready to hex whoever the hell it was to kingdom come and back.
The moment that he opened it, Regulus was shocked to see Sirius on the other side. Sirius stood holding what looked like a geranium in a tacky ceramic pot while Remus stood behind him looking super uncomfortable.
Regulus tilted his head to the side while you came to join him at the door. You were clearly as surprised as Regulus was.
“Hello?”
Regulus managed to get out while Sirius smiled.
“Hello, happy couple…I brought you a plant.”
Sirius held out the geranium to his younger brother with a grin. Regulus slowly took the flower with an uncomfortable expression.
“Um, thanks. How did you two find us?”
Sirius glanced over his shoulder praying that Remus had listened to that whole “be nice and don’t strangle him” talk.
“Can we come in?”
You moved aside as did Regulus. Sirius and Remus walked in closing the door behind them.
“Did you two steal this from the old woman down the street? I saw her potting this plant last week.”
Regulus commented before sitting the geranium down. Sirius shrugged.
“She won’t miss it. So….here we are and here you are.”
Regulus nodded, sitting down.
“Yes. Here we are. Again, how did you find us?”
Sirius grinned.
“Uncle Alphard told me after I wrote him.”
“How long?”
Remus finally commented. Both Regulus and yourself turned to face your older brother. You could see the unease in Remus’ eyes. How he was remaining calm was a mystery.
You placed a hand on Regulus’ shoulder before speaking to Remus directly.
“Two years.”
“Two years!!?? The two of you have been dating for two years and no one said a word. Y/n, this is big. You could have married this man by now…wait, you two aren’t married are you?”
Regulus raised an eyebrow before holding up your hand that had a diamond ring on it.
“Not yet but we will be. This is exactly why we didn’t tell you, Lupin. You are spazzing out and acting ridiculous. Family reactions are the reason why we didn’t say anything. My family would never accept Y/n and would potentially hurt her. You are…well…you are acting as I expected.”
Remus went instantly silent before muttering “fuck me” under his breath. He took a few deep breaths before speaking. Looking at your face, Remus stared at you hard for a few moments. No longer were you the little girl that chased after him always wanting to be part of her big brother’s activities. Now you were a grown woman with a life of her own…a grown woman who deserved to have the life that she wanted.
Regulus was busy watching Remus hoping the other man didn’t burst into a fit of tears. He was not ready to deal with that!
“I apologize…to both of you. You have to understand that is my only family left, Regulus. Outside of Sirius, Y/n has been my forever friend. It hurts knowing that both of you felt this was the only option…but I understand. I was wrong to judge your happiness. Y/n, is this what you want?”
You squeezed Regulus’ shoulder.
“It is, Remus. I love Regulus very much. He’s very good to me and I’m happy. I know you are worried but I want you to be happy for me. I found my person must like you found yours….your plant stealing person.”
Sirius giggled. Remus stared at Sirius before shaking his head.
“Yeah, my plant-stealing person. Fine, if you two are happy then I’m happy for you. Regulus, please take care of her.”
Regulus reached up to squeeze your hand that was resting on his shoulder.
“I would die for her.”
Sirius stood up clapping his hands together before going off in search of breakfast.
“Now that is out of the way…who is going to feed me breakfast? You two should have seen the mad dash we made to get here.”
_____
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queen-of-the-avengers · 5 months ago
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It's Looking Up From Here
Pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~1.6k
Warnings: relationship angst, fluff, implied smut
Summary: You and Gio grow closer over your shared interest in fashion and create something beautiful that only you can pull off. He invites you to a party this weekend but Bucky has bigger and better plans you can't resist.
Between Love and Hate Masterlist
Squares Filled: "tell me" (2023) for @buckybarnesbingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
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Then
Bucky was very secretive when it came to most of the things in his life. He trusted you enough to let you sleep over in his house but didn’t trust you enough to keep all the doors unlocked. You just wanted to know everything you could about Bucky since he didn’t share a lot with you. He’d always been with you whenever you went exploring his house but he was still in bed. This was your opportunity to look before he caught you.
Bucky’s mansion is huge with more rooms than he used. There was an entire wing of the house that no one used but he still kept this house as if he needed every room. Bucky didn’t keep a lot of stuff on the wall because he claimed that the pictures he wanted to look at were either in his wallet or on his phone.
All of them were of you.
Bucky’s mansion had a personal gym, two movie theater rooms, a bowling alley, two game rooms, a shooting range, two bars, over a dozen bedrooms and bathrooms, a spa, a huge indoor pool, and a multi-story car garage. You were still not sure how that even worked and you’ve seen him use cars that were on the second story. Sam and Steve had rooms here since he trusted them more than his other men but you hadn’t seen them in a while.
What kind of job does Bucky do that requires him to have a boatload of men with guns? Maybe you knew the answer and didn’t want to face it. You didn’t want to think of Bucky other than the sweet man you loved.
Since you knew of almost every room in his house, you head to the one place he kept under lock and key. Of course, his office door is locked when you get there. He told you never to go in here but why? Bucky’s maid walked out of the room next to his office, scaring you. You knew he had a chef and a maid that lived in the house but you didn’t expect her to be up this early.
“Sorry, you scared me,” you chuckled. She rolled her cart past his office and continued to the next room. “Aren’t you going to go in there?”
“Mr. Barnes doesn’t want anyone going in there but him.”
Now you were more confused than ever. You grabbed the door handle and tried again as if the door would be magically unlocked from the last time you tried it. Why didn't he want anyone in there? What was really in there? What was he hiding? You stood on your tiptoes and felt along the rim of the door. Maybe he kept a key there even though it was unlikely.
“What are you doing?”
You jumped at hearing his voice and you turned to face him. There was no point in trying to hide it. You were caught red-handed.
“Nothing,” you said sheepishly.
“Were you trying to get into my office?”
You dropped the innocent facade with an eye roll.
“I’m sorry, Bucky, but I’m curious. You don’t let anyone in there.”
“Yeah, there’s a reason why,” he glared.
“So, what’s the reason? What do you have in there?”
“Nothing. It’s just an office.”
“Tell me, if it’s just an office, why can’t I go in there? Why do you keep the door locked?”
“I let you have free reign in this entire house. Why can’t you let this one go?” he sighed in frustration.
You’ve always wanted things you couldn’t have.
“If it’s not a big deal, why can’t I go inside? What are you hiding?”
“Nothing.” You kept asking questions that pissed him off but he wasn’t going to yell in your face. Until you kept pushing the issue, and he exploded. “I said it’s nothing, Y/N! I don’t want you going in there!” You jumped from the sudden explosion and immediately hurt that he’d yell at you. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, I just don’t want people in there. I’m very private.”
“Okay,” you said in a hollow voice.
“I’m sorry for yelling. I’m just stressed at work.”
“And what is it that you do? You keep that a secret, too?”
“I really don’t want to get into this right now.”
“Yeah,” you scoffed, “what did I expect? A mature conversation? No, you go off running away every time I bring up your job that you don’t want me to know about.”
Bucky’s fists clenched but he didn’t move them from his side.
“Y/N…”
“No, it’s fine. It’s not like this is a relationship or anything,” you scoffed and walked back to your room.
Now
You and Gio put the finishing touches on the dress you two are making for class. The dress is light pink and goes all the way down to your feet. If you’re not wearing some kind of heel, the dress will drag. The top is elegant where the silky fabric crosses over each other over the breasts. It’s spaghetti straps but a line of fabric drapes from the front to the back giving the false look of flowy sleeves.
“Damn, you’re good at this,” Gio smiles.
“We’re good at this,” you correct.
“Alright, you should be putting the finishing touches on your projects,” your professor announces. “I’ll need one person from each group to try on the project and show the class.”
“So, who is going to put this on?” you ask Gio.
“I think this was made for you.”
“I don’t know, I’d like to see you wear this,” you joke.
You and seven other people take their projects and leave the room to try on what they made. You’re the first one back so you walk into the classroom with a shy smile. Gio stares at you with parted lips like he thinks you’re the most beautiful woman in the world. The dress fits you like it was made for your body. When designing it, you might have put your own size into it. If your professor would let you, you’d love to take this home and show Bucky. You and Gio explain to the class the process of making the dress and why you chose the silky fabric. Afterward, you step down and let the next group go.
“You look beautiful,” Gio smiles once back at your desk.
“Thank you. I love it.”
“It was made for you. It fits really well.”
“I wish I could take it home.”
Before class is done, you change out of the dress and leave it for your professor to grade. You and Gio walk to the cafeteria to grab something to eat. Bucky will be pulling up to the meeting point since you have a half-day today but you figure he can wait while you have lunch with Gio. You two pay for lunch and find a spot to eat outside.
“So, a bunch of us are going to a party this weekend. My friend is in Delta Phi and is going to be throwing one of their legendary parties. I want you to go.”
“I’ve never been to a frat party before. It sounds like fun. Let me check my schedule and see if I have anything planned.”
You take out your planner and look at this weekend.
“You did a really good job on the dress.”
“You helped,” you smile.
“Nah, that was all you. You’re going to make a great fashion designer one day.”
“Thank you. I don’t have anything planned for this weekend. I’d love to go to a party.”
Gio is about to respond when he notices something behind you. His entire face hardens into something you think is hate. You look back and see Bucky and sigh knowing he is pissed you weren't there. He takes a seat next to you but doesn’t regard Gio at all.
“Where were you?”
“I’m having lunch with my friend. Bucky, this is Gio. Gio, this is Bucky.”
Bucky only grunts in Gio’s direction. He’s never been a people person much less with men you know
“Come on, I have a surprise waiting for you at home.”
“You’re dating him?” Gio asks in surprise.
“You say that like you know him.” You look at Bucky. “Do you know him?”
“I’ve never met you before.”
“Sorry,” Gio chuckles breathily, “I thought you were someone else.”
“I have to go. Thanks for lunch,” you smile and pack up.
“So, you’ll be at the party?”
“Yeah.”
You leave with Bucky but only until he is back in the car does he say something.
“What party?”
“He invited me to a frat party. I told him I’d go. It’s this weekend.”
“You know what’s at those college parties? Booze, sex, and drugs.”
“What, you think I can’t handle myself?” you ask and look at him.
“I know you can. It’s them I don’t trust.”
“Then why don’t you come with me?”
Bucky looks at you with a bitch face.
“Do I look like a frat boy?”
“I don’t know. Sometimes you act like one.” He laughs and shakes his head. When he gets home, he escorts you inside with a hand on the small of your back. “So, what’s this surprise?”
Bucky steps away from you and walks over to four suitcases by the stairs.
“We’re going to Italy.” You gasp in shock. “Awh, looks like you won’t be going to that little party after all.”
“What about school?”
“I worked out a deal with your teachers so you can do it online.”
“I’ve never been to Italy before,” you grin.
“So, would you trade fine dining, luxury, and me for frat boys, drinking, and beer pong?”
You walk up to Bucky and put one hand on his shoulder and the other on the side of his face.
“You. I choose you.”
He grabs you by your hips and kisses you desperately. He picks you up by your thighs and you wrap your legs around his waist.
“We leave in the morning.”
You giggle when his stubble touches your neck but moan when his lips start kissing you there.
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Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)
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Listen if I could actually size shift in real life there would be so many things I’d be doing just cause I could.
Like I watch a lot of YouTube, what better way to watch it then building a mini fort, placing my phone into the fort and shrinking down to watch it like I’m at a movie theater. Just instead of a movie it’s just one of the YouTubers I like to watch.
I would also purposely make a bubble bath in a normal bath tub, grab my giant rubber ducky, and just shrink down and have some fun. I’m riding the giant rubber duck and no one can stop me okay?
You know those giant squishmellows? The 20-ish inch ones? Yeah imma shrink down and just lay on it like a giant bean bag.
The fact is that there would be so many times someone would walk into my room just to see me doing something weird at a small size and then they’d probably just close the door awkwardly after making eye contact with me. So what if I was making a painting using my body as the brush for the paint while wearing a swimsuit and I was caught making snow angels out of paint? Who are they to judge me???
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joe-spookyy · 3 months ago
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What is the Gay subtext between David Kissler and Jack Goodman ?
so the subtext in this one is not super overt like it is in like. reanimator. but it’s definitely there. first i’ll start with the basics. full essay under the cut.
now, the werewolf is one of the easiest classic monsters to read as queer. i mean, it’s right there. someone who walks among “normal” people, who are completely unaware that this person carries a “dark secret” that sets them apart from everyone else. i could be talking about this person’s status as a werewolf. i could also be talking about their queer identity that they choose not to disclose. the idea of living a sort of double life and hiding part of yourself is prominent in werewolf media and also in depictions and the real lives of queer people. additionally, the transformation aspect is something many trans people find easy to connect to. the point is, it’s pretty damn easy to read lycanthropy as a metaphor for queerness of any kind.
and 80s werewolves have it even queerer. just like 80s vampires, they’re a monster that spreads their disease through physical contact. a bite. a scratch. and of course. usually a lot of blood. what else was big in terms of blood in the 80s? yeah. you probably guessed it. the aids crisis! i could write a whole different essay on this but the fears that came with the aids crisis are, just like most other societal fears, reflected in the horror films of their time. here’s a snippet from the AAWIL essay book that comes with the arrow dvd release.
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so, even though the aids crisis wasn’t quite around when the film was released, it still had a connection to the culture, which adds to the potential for a queer reading. and it’s quite interesting that director john landis chooses specifically to compare david’s affliction to aids. also if you want proof on this point just check out how many werewolf and vampire movies came out during the 80s and the aids crisis. it really makes you think.
okay. now we’ve covered the basics. but what is it exactly about an american werewolf in london, and more specifically, jack goodman and david kessler, that reads as queer? well. let me tell you.
first of all a little more on the aids point. david’s condition is, like aids, infectious. and it affects almost exclusively men - david only has one female victim from his first night of “carnivorous lunar activities.” and you know what else disproportionately affects men? aids. and it’s also quite interesting that his victims are predominantly men with the idea of lycanthropy as a representation of his queerness - his preference for men in his nighttime activities can certainly be read as representative of something other than being a werewolf.
now, my favorite point and the one that i find most compelling. as we know, david and jack are on a little trip when jack is killed in front of david, and jack then returns to haunt david throughout the movie to encourage him to. yknow. kill himself. so what about that is queer? i’m so glad you asked! if you pay a little extra attention, you’ll notice that every time jack shows up, it’s after david’s just had a heterosexual experience. when he appears the first time, david’s just been flirting with his nurse, alex. when he comes back, it’s right after david and alex have just had sex. in fact, jack and david have a conversation here while david is fully naked. neither of them even bat an eye about this. and finally, jack and david have their last big talk while inside a very loud and very heterosexual pornography theater. kind of odd, right? it’s almost as if something other than jack’s ghost is haunting david. he can’t shake off visions of another man while he’s with his woman? here, jack could easily serve as a reminder of david’s sexuality, and he acts to rip david from his attempts at returning to normalcy after the attack. he just keeps coming back to tell david he’s a werewolf, and if we, as above, read lycanthropy as a metaphor for queerness, it easily reads as a blatant reminder for david that he is out of the societal norm (either in his existence as a werewolf or his queerness) and can’t go back now that he knows it. so, he’s reminded of this fact every time he tries to push himself to move on and be with alex. the final scene with the two of them in the porn theater is an even bigger nod to this idea. he’s literally in a pornography theater with a naked woman massive and on the big screen and all he can focus on is the fact that jack’s there, and of course, the fact that he is indeed a werewolf - permanently different from everyone around him, and, as far as he’s been told, dangerous and not deserving of life, which is a sentiment i’m sure many queer people can say they’re familiar with.
there are a few other nods to the idea of queerness in the film. of course, they’re not taken terribly seriously or presented as anything but jokes, given that it’s an 80s horror movie made by a straight man, but they do sort of add fuel to the fire of a queer reading of this movie. most notably, when david wakes up naked in the zoo after a night of werewolfing, he just kind of runs off with the nearest unattended clothing item. this piece of clothing happens to be a long women’s coat. bright red, with fur trim. wearing nothing but that, david almost looks like he’s wearing a dress, and it certainly doesn’t make him look more masculine. as he’s waiting in line for the train to return to alex’s, we’re shown all the men staring at him with disdain, as he whistles and makes small talk like nothing at all is off. david appears perfectly comfortable in the situation - it is just the judgement of others that makes him seem out of place. the coat emasculates him, and now the people around him are reading him as queer, whereas in his typical clothes, no one would look twice. later on, in an attempt to get himself arrested, david hurls obscenities in a public park, most notably (imo), “queen elizabeth is a man! prince charles is a faggot!” queerness is the butt of the joke here, of course. but if you squint real hard you can read david as queer and just decide he’s allowed to say the f slur. cause he can reclaim.
also, the film takes an interesting route - rather than “defeating” david’s otherness, by somehow returning him to a human state and saving his life, and thus allowing him live out his days with alex, they let the werewolfism win. david ends up tragically dead, despite alex’s please and love confession. in this film, heterosexuality Doesn’t win. now, i’m not necessarily saying queerness wins. it’s not like david gets to live happily ever after with jack. however, we as the audience are fully aware this is the only way things could have gone. david’s condition was permanent (as is queerness), and there was no way to change him. no way to make him fit that societal norm. instead he goes down, just like jack did. in a way, i guess they are presumably together in the end. i don’t really know the afterlife logistics in this universe, but they’re both dead and presumably at peace and not walking the earth, since david’s death broke the curse.
so! there’s a little rundown of most of the queercoding in an american werewolf in london. it’s a bit late so forgive me if anything doesn’t make sense. i’ll take follow up questions. peace and love.
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experimentfae · 9 months ago
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Vox x Fem! Overlord!Reader
Oneshot / angst / fluff
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You let out a sigh remembering just a couple days ago that you finally had the guts to tell you’re feeling towards alastor, after knowing each other in life and now afterlife you hoped it would go as you planned but of course it didn’t go that way’
“I’m sorry dear but… I don’t feel the same way but I would love that we stay companions.”Those words kept ringing in your head. Maybe you should have known he would reject you it’s alastor he isn’t exactly the loving type from what you heard.
But you shouldn’t and refused to set yourself back from by your business that you needed to maintain, as a business women you had to make sure it stayed successful as possible.
A knocked interrupted your paperwork “yes?” You asked “boss the Overlord Vox the tv demon wants to meet with you.” This immediately got your full attention “let him in.” Your employee opened the door to let him in.
“(Y/n) was it?.” “Yes and you must be Vox.” He smiled wider “that’s me, I wanted to buy some weapons from you.” that’s wasn’t what surprised after all in this afterlife it’s one of the two things you’re known for but what did surprise you was the way that he was looking at you.
You weren’t a fool you could tell he wanted you but you weren’t ready not yet anyway, trying to get over alastor of course. “Of course we have a large genre of any weapon of your desire, but first I want to see what you’re willing to spend.”
He smirked “gladly.” He then took out a suitcase and opened to reveal a whole jackpot. “Is this enough for you?” You smirked in return “oh very much so, looks like you’ll be my number one customer and on your first visit, impressive.” He smiled wider. You snapped you’re finger and all you’re walls moved to show all you’re weapons that are for sale.
“Nice, but while I’m deciding let’s get some drinks up here and ya know… make some small talk.” You raises your brow “small talk?” He shrugged his shoulders “yeah besides ain’t wrong to know my newest weapon dealer and the owner of my favorite club.”
“Well… I usually like just sticking to business but, I’ll let loose this once of course.” Funny enough that was a lie. This won’t be the only time you two meet. Usually it was at your club, his tv station or at each other homes.
Over time you got over alastor and started to have feelings for Vox but you had a feeling he felt the same. Thankfully he confirmed it himself “(y/n), I have feelings for you.” He seemed nervous, his right foot fidgeting his anticipation.
“I have feeling’s for you too.” you smiled seeing him get excited he then hugged you which made give out a small gasp “I’m so glad you’re not gonna regret this baby.” You chuckled “with the nicknames already then I guess I could use Voxy then.” The response made him blush “I like that but don’t tell anyone else that.” He stated making you laugh in response.
A year as passed and during all that you’re relationship with Vox was getting more serious and you wanted to surprise him with his favorite food, and tickets to a new movie that was playing in the movie theaters.
You walked into Vox’s home with a spare key you got from him, but you heard noises, you walked to you’re bedroom you hesitated, but you needed to know what the hell was going on. as you open the door you’re heart broken into pieces on the sight.
You saw as Valentino was on top of a shirtless Vox seeming to have been in a make out section but Vox noticed you instantly at door. “(Y-y/n) wait h- “what the hell is this!” You screamed feeling your hands tighten on the movie ticket you felt then slowly tear apart but that’s the least of your worries.
“Please (y/n) let me explain.” “Explain?! What? that your cheating on me, you know what I don’t even want to hear it we are threw I refuse to listen to any lame excuse!” You glared at Valentino, he had the audacity to smirk but you didn’t say anything, what could you say that he won? You refuse to admit it so you left throwing the movie tickets and food in the garbage can outside.
You did look back at the Vox’s home only last time and then you went on not giving another glance.
7 years later
It’s been 7 years sense you were gone no trace of you many people made theories but of course all of them were wrong, and with no notice or announcement. you suddenly appeared again this time working with Hazbin hotel including with alastor thankfully you didn’t have feeling’s for him still, you completely move on and still been friends for years and more to come.
You were cleaning around the hotel when alastor asked you to company him to go get food for the hotel since we were running low. You agreed, neither of you not realizing you are being recorded as you both leave the hotel.
Vox’s Pov:
I have been trying to look for (y/n) for so long… seven years it’s funny when I heard alastor was missing I would usually be ecstatic but then I realized that (y/n) also went missing… I think about her a lot.
I looked at a photo I had when we were still together, I know velveet told me to move on but I don’t think I can or ever can. For fuck sake what did alastor do to her or is she… with him I knew she had a thing for him before but I would hope it didn’t come to reality.
As you kept looking for camera any clue, any information hell maybe even another rumor and my prayers where answered but my fears seemed to also come true.
Alastor and (y/n) walking side by side to hell knows where. “No…. No, No, NO, NO!!” I yelled fisting my hands and slamming them across my keyboard very little of if I break my equipment or not. I let out breaths of rage trying to calm down but the more I looked the more I felt envy crawl up on me and especially rage “That OLD FUCK!” I immediately left thinking a plan, I’ll make her see I’m better then he will ever be.
You’re pov:
After grocery shopping with alastor, you were gonna go back to your duties, a door bell interrupt those plans, “oh is it a new demon that want to join the hotel?!” You heard Charlie yell “I don’t know yet let me check.” You replied, you opened the door to see a package that as you’re name on it.
And guessing from the blue decor you knew exactly who it was from “oh no.” You muttered, shit he figured out where you were “it’s a package for me sadly.” you answered Charlie which surprised her. “Then you see her appear from up the stairs to come down to you “really why would that be a bad thing?” “Because it’s from her ex.” Answers alastor from behind you.
Only Charlie jumped in surprise but you were used to him doing that “he’s correct I was hoping I had more time until Vox found me but I was clumsy it’s seems.”
“Oh sorry about that (y/n) I’m sure it will blow over right?” “I hope you’re right.” You threw the gift out not bothering to open it from him but sadly Charlie was oh so wrong. More gifts came, somehow he found your number so countless messages came no matter how many times you blocked him, and whenever you went beside a tv store Vox would always appear trying to start a conversation and trying to reason with you about getting back together.
It was infuriating it almost wanted make you disappear again but you refuse to back down that easily.
You watched the countless messages coming from Vox claiming how he changed and he got better for our relationship to “work” this time. Those were the usual the one that stood out to you though was.
[Fine if you won’t come to me then I’ll come to you.”]
It was the last message he sent this made you freeze in your spot and you looked to see this message was sent 20 minutes ago. for all you knew he was near. “Shit.” You anxiously looked outside not seeing him in sight, you didn’t know if you had the guts to face him at least if you did didn’t want to face him here, You texted him back quickly.
[we need to meet somewhere else we will meet at skullbrew, we can’t meet at the hotel that’s the least you can do]
[of course anything for you baby]
You rolled your eyes seeing his nickname for you, you used to love that nickname but now it’s just brings bittersweet memories. So you headed out making sure, you made it there on time.
As you walked you heard a man’s voice “hey sweetheart were you going.” You looked to see that the man was in fact talking to you “none of your concern.” This made him frown a little “come on baby, don’t be so hard headed you will love what I can offer you.” You ignored what the demon said until you felt his gross hands on your left wrist.
“Don’t act like a bitch.” You tries pulling your arm away but to no avail and like an idiot you forget to bring a weapon for yourself. “What’s the matter cat got your tongue?” This only made you glare at this cheesy remark but suddenly you see a black and blue hand sucker punch the demons face.
“What th- he looked to see Vox and his face immediately paled “shit I my bad I didn’t know she was yours I’ll just see- but he didn’t get to finish as Vox pulled out a gun and shot the demon multiple times. The demon fell to the ground in pain “what the fuck!” “Oh fuck why did you have shoot I was leaving?!?” Vox then smirked “to further the point to never bother her again and tell that to the other creeps around here.”
Vox then turned to you “see I’m better than alastor I came to your rescue.” You glared at him you hate the fact you were still attracted to this basturd. “I could’ve handled it myself.” You looked away slightly blushing this made his smirk turn to a smile “yeah you totally had that but I know you loved it when I came to your rescue.”
You rolled your eyes “whatever let’s just get to this coffee so I you can say whatever you want to say.” He eagerly followed behind you into the coffee shop.
“Let’s make this make this quick and say what you want to say.” You didn’t have the patience for small talk right now. “(Y/n) I…. miss you and I wanted to explain what was really going on seven years ago.” This made you let out a small chuckle “what really happens don’t try to gaslight me.” You growled out. “It’s the truth he… he was… forcing himself on me.” Your eyes widen “what.” “I told him that I was in a relationship with you and told him, that him and me can’t be a thing anymore.”
“You used to date him and he did that I- I just- “yes we did but I broke up with him over Angel and his abuse on me, then I meet you so didn’t go back to him like he expected me to do.” This made your eyes widen in realization.
“Wait please tell me that day was he….” He looked away but answers “yeah he did I… worst part after you left I blamed myself for that.” Now you felt terrible “Vox I… I should have listened I’m so sorry.” You begin tearing up “hey, hey. It’s not your fault you didn’t know and besides I should have cut off contact with him right after our breakup he is toxic as fuck.”
He suddenly grabbed your hand, it’s been so long since your hand as been held in his “(y/n) I want to try and give this relationship another shot. Are you two?” You looked into his eyes this time you really paid attention and saw the genuine love behind his eyes.
“Yes I wanna give this another go.” He became ecstatic he hugged you “you have no idea how much I missed you.” He stated while you returned the hug. “You gave me a couple hints these past three weeks.”
Which both of you laugh “I guess you got a point baby, but I’m better than alastor right?” You let out sigh with a smile “Voxy don’t worry about alastor is completely platonic now and besides he’s aroace.” This immediately made him smile letting out a breath of relief “oh thank satan.”
“It’s cute when you’re jealous.” He smiled “but you are so much more cuter.”
<- Back to MasterList or back to Hazbin Hotel
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drewsbuzzcut · 2 months ago
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I Can See It In Your Eyes
Drew Starkey x Evangeline Sinclair (OC)
Warnings: none that I can think of (this is also lightly edited so sorry for any mistakes)
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“Evangeline!”
“Ms. Sinclair over here!”
“Look this way!”
The young starlet walks down the red carpet, the train of her gown in her hand as she makes her way to an interviewer. The buzzing crowd does nothing for her nerves, but she focuses on the pride she feels as everyone calls out for her.
“We’re here with Evangeline Sinclair. She walked the red carpet for the first time just yesterday for her premiere of her brand new horror movie. Everyone seemed to love it and the reviews are to die for. How do you feel?” The interviewer dives in straight away.
Evangeline only has a millisecond to catch her breath.
“So excited. This movie is special to me and I want people to really feel that. I hope that transcribes well through all the hard work that was put into that project,” she breathes out, hands clutched over her heart to show that her words are heartfelt.
“Today you’re here as well to support your fellow Loewe crew and Luca who you’ve previously worked with.”
“Yes, I am. Luca is a fantastic director and he’s perfect at having a vision and making it come to life. I’m honored to be here to celebrate and support such an amazing film and an amazing cast and crew”
“If you don’t mind shifting gears, rumor has it that Drew Starkey is your newest costar for another horror movie coming out sometime next year,” the woman says excitedly.
“Well I guess it isn’t a rumor anymore. Yes, he’s my costar and we’re actually in the middle of filming. Our lovely cast and crew were gracious enough to allow us to be here supporting our other projects,” Evangeline grins, a little flutter growing in her heart at the thought of Drew.
“Well the chemistry must be strong between you two. I can just feel the electricity buzzing when you walk by one another,” the interviewer points out, making a blush form on the actress’s cheeks.
“He’s amazing to work with. What can I say? Our chemistry is unmatched and that’s why we’re starring in a major movie together,” she muses through a big grin.
“I think I heard my name,” Drew chimes in, popping up behind Evangeline.
His hand finds the small of her back and he places a chaste kiss to her cheek, furthermore making her face blaze.
“Drew! How kind of you to join us. What’s it like working with this generation’s scream queen?”
Both Drew and Eva share a quick glance, their eyes quickly flitting away from each other. The girl is highly aware of his large hand still present on her back.
“Ah man. She’s- yeah she’s perfect. Someone that everyone wants to work with, and I just so happen to be the lucky one to do so. She’s super talented and she really knows how to put dedication into the craft,” Drew compliments, directing his gaze back to her.
They all look at each other just about speechless. Evangeline wasn’t expecting for him to say that and it clearly caught the interviewer off guard.
“He’s such a flatterer. I should be saying that I’m the lucky one, being able to work with him,” she shakes off her surprise.
“And soon everyone will be the lucky ones when they’re able to see your film in theaters.”
Evangeline turns her body into Drew’s, her hand landing on his chest in an affectionate manner. Although their touches seem to be mostly platonic, everyone will still be able to see the tension bouncing between their eyes.
“We can’t wait for everyone to see it,” Drew gleams and squeezes the actress into his side.
“Thank you, Drew and Evangeline. It was nice talking to you both,” the interviewer concludes her interview and the duo bid their goodbyes.
“You should pose with me for pictures,” Drew leans down to whisper in her ear.
The girl blushed furiously this time, heart practically beating out of her chest. Whenever she’s around Drew, her senses go haywire.
“No way. You’re the star of the night,” she huffs out.
“And you’re always a star.” Can he be any more perfect?
“One picture. Only one, Drew,” she gives in.
After a few pictures- after the paparazzi couldn’t get enough of them -the duo make their way inside, away from any prying eyes or lenses.
“I didn’t get a chance to tell you that you look beautiful,” Drew sighs as if it's been weighing on his chest.
“Thank you. You look handsome as well.”
His hands find their way back onto her back, slowly tugging her into him for a long overdue hug. Evangeline doesn’t dare stop herself from looping her arms around his neck. His hair tickles her fingers in a pleasant way, reminding her of all the times she’s played with his hair on set.
If someone were to see them, they’d think they’re a couple. Hell, sometimes her mind even tricks her into thinking they’re a couple. Truth is, their bond has become so strong, a catalyst from co-starring in a movie together. Their characters are each other’s love interest, and they’ve had their fair share of onscreen kisses that have pushed their relationship to toe the line between fiction and reality.
Snapping the girl out of her thoughts, Drew slides a hand down her arm and interlocks their fingers.
“Shit. I need to get going and meet up with Luca and Daniel and everyone else,” he mutters, lowering his head in slight annoyance.
“Nervous, Starkey?” There’s a tease hidden in her words and Drew catches it right away.
He fights off a bubbling laugh and just presses a hard kiss to her cheek.
“It’s okay if you’re nervous,” she adds after he fails to respond.
“I’m fine. I know you’ll be in there, seated right behind me,” he says and gathers her in his arms once again. Even in heels, Eva still has to be on her tiptoes to press her forehead to his.
“Mmm right. I almost forgot that I’m your non-date,” she laughs. Drew had asked her to accompany him during his film's premiere day, knowing that her presence will keep him calm. He also can’t deny that he adores seeing her dolled up and by his side.
“Date,” he corrects her. She stays silent, just peering into his baby blues.
“I’m proud of you,” she whispers and finally returns his cheek kiss.
“I have to get going.”
“Go superstar,” she playfully pushes at his chest.
He squeezes at her hips, reluctantly pulling away to catch one last, longing gaze at her before meeting the cast and crew for Queer.
a/n: I haven’t written for Drew in a while, so I hope y’all truly enjoy it
Let me know if there’s anything specific you want to see with Drew and Evangeline!
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lovemewednesdays · 6 months ago
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monster trucks and a monster crush.
(Based off of this post from the lovely @ebongawk. If I had the spoons, I'd probably flesh this out a bit more, but for right now, it's just a bullet fic.)
The movie comes out in July.
Eddie and Chrissy aren’t dating yet, but they might as well be, seeing how they spend most of their time together.
Chrissy has been trying to figure out Eddie on a real date all summer with no luck, and then she sees an ad for Maximum Overdrive in the paper.
It was perfect – Chrissy doesn’t like horror that much, but she can stomach it for an hour and a half, especially if she got to look at Emilio Estevez in the process, and Eddie loves Stephen King, she’s seen the beaten-up paperbacks on his floor.
They’re on the couch in the trailer. Something’s playing on the TV. Chrissy’s not paying attention.
“Do you wanna go to the movies tomorrow?” she blurts out. "There's a new Emilio Estevez movie.” Eddie makes a face and Chrissy shoves him lightly. “It’s directed by Stephen King.”
“Oh, yeah. Heard something about that. It’s based on one of his short stories. Yeah, that’s cool, let’s do it.”
Chrissy smiles and snuggles back into his side. She feels like she’s floating.
It isn’t until Edde’s driving her back home that it hits her like a brick wall – what if Eddie doesn’t know it’s a date? They go to the movies all the time. He probably thinks it’s no big deal! It’s not! It’s the biggest deal!
She works herself up, her nerves getting the best of her, and when they pull up to her house, she jumps out and twirls around.
“BythewayImeanttomorrowtobeadate." His eyes widen as comprehension dawns and Chrissy has to leave. “Okay, bye!”
She sprints inside her house, leaving a shell-shocked Eddie behind.
(Chrissy doesn’t sleep well that night.)
(Neither does Eddie.)
The next day, Chrissy is ready to renege on the whole thing. They can just be friends. It was a stupid idea anyway, why would Eddie Munson ever date her?
The van pulls up, and as she makes her way over, Eddie pops out of the driver’s side and rushes over to open the passenger side door.
Chrissy stops. He’s wearing a plain black t-shirt under his leather jacket and his jeans don’t have any holes in them. It looks like he even tried to comb his hair.
He’s holding flowers.
Eddie's smile is nervous. “Wayne says it’s always a good idea to bring your girl flowers on a date.”
Chrissy smiles and takes the flowers.
The ride to the theater was normal. They talk about Corroded Coffin’s next gig, about the kids at Chrissy's summer job, and if Wayne would actually go on that fishing trip he’s been talking about for months. 
Once he parks, Eddie jumps out of the car and opens the passenger door. “Milady.” Chrissy takes his hand, gets out of the car, and they head toward the theater.
They’re almost to the door when Chrissy stops. Eddie stops, too.
They’re still holding hands.
“If, um…I know that – I know I didn’t let you respond yesterday, so I totally get it if you, um, don’t want it to be a date.”
She tries to pull her hand away, but Eddie tightens his grip.
“I was gathering the courage to do it myself, you know,” he says with a wry smile. “You beat me to the punch.” He kisses the back of her hand. “C’mon. You gotta go drool over Estevez.” Chrissy laughs and lets him lead her towards the theater.
The movie is terrible. Schlocky. Corny. Chrissy’s almost embarrassed for suggesting it, but Eddie’s arm is around her and he’s laughing.
(He loses it after the baseball coach dies by demonic soda cans. The kid getting run over by a steamroller right after didn’t help. Chrissy elbows him and Eddie flashes her a grin. “Kid’s fine, Cunningham. The grass’s soft.”)
The credits roll and Eddie and Chrissy walk out into the lobby; Chrissy hides her face. “I’m sorry!”
Eddie’s face twists in confusion. “Why are you sorry?”
“The movie was so bad! I don’t want our first date to be at a bad movie.”
Eddie takes her hands in his. “I had the time of my life watching that movie with you.” 
“Really?” 
“Oh, yeah! Watching a batshit-crazy movie about possessed eighteen-wheelers with my girl? Best day ever.”
Chrissy laughs and lifts up on her toes to kiss him. When she pulls back, Eddie grins widely and pulls her back in.
They get chased out of the theater by a miserable college kid in a neon orange vest grumbling about teenage hormones.
(When they make it out to the parking lot, Eddie stops her before she gets in. He lets go of her hand and splays himself against the hood of the van. “Now, Sheila. I know I just said that Chrissy was my girl, but I love you, too, and if you ever get possessed by an alien comet, please, please don’t kill us.”
Chrissy laughs and gets in the passenger seat as Eddie yells dramatically to be careful.
Eddie makes the movie his entire personality for weeks – whenever he sees an eighteen-wheeler, he screams and pulls Chrissy behind him. Sheila breaks down at the entrance to Loch Nora one night and he does his best Wanda June impression: “You can’t do this! WE MADE YOU!”
He takes the younger boys to see it and they join in on the theatrics. Steve and Nancy are ready to pull their hair out, but Chrissy loves it.
When the movie comes out on VHS, Eddie buys it immediately. They watch it every year on their anniversary.)
All in all, not a bad first date.
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sanriokamabodo · 1 year ago
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Interview with Akaza + Douma (Actor!AU)
A/N: wanted to write this as a full on fic but who am i kidding (not proofread haha..)
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“Hi I’m Hakuji Soyama and I've had the honour to play Akaza since the Mugen Train Arc” He gives a brief nod after his introduction. Slinging his right leg over the other, he glances at his counterpart who awkwardly raises his hand.
“...And I play Douma.’’ He states, causing Akaza to erupt into a fit of laughter, the audience and interviewer joining him instantly.
“Well that’s one way to introduce yourself.” Akaza grins, dramatically wiping a tear away from his eye.
“So tell me, what’s it like behind the scenes?"
"I think everyone gets along great, we all have a similar end goal in mind and work hard to achieve that together."
Douma nods before starting. "This is my first big time job and everybody has welcomed me with open arms. The writers even listened to my ideas and we've made some changes together for me to portray him better."
"We've heard rumours about you all doing your own stunts. Is it true?"
Akaza sighs making Douma laugh.
"You know that one scene in the infinity castle where I parkour around like it's nobody's business? That took a week to film, I nearly had to relearn to walk again because I was dangling in the air so much."
"Tch, you're so dramatic." Douma quips.
"You didn't make it any easier for me! You know how ticklish my feet are and you kept taking advantage of it while I was hanging from the ceiling!" He scoffs jokingly. "You guys better appreciate that scene." He laughs, making the audience cheer for the duo.
"How do you guys get ready for a day of shooting? Walk me through the day you started filming the uppermoon meeting."
"Make-up is the first thing we do, during make-up we go over our scenes together."
"Whose make-up takes longest?"
"Hantengu's by a long shot. He's actually really good looking in real life."
"I second that. I think Hakuji's the quickest since he has temporary tattoo's and dyed his hair for the part. He only needs to put in his contacts."
"Muzan's actor is actually really soft-spoken in real life, we had to reshoot the 'Upper Moons' meeting a lot because he would be to gentle with us and we would end up laughing." Akaza chuckles.
"Who do you respect most among the actors?"
"I respect everyone, especially the younger actors! They're super professional. I shot a scene with Ume who plays Daki and she gave me a lot of useful tips."
"The way Rengoku's actor portrays him gave me chills. He did so beautifully! I really respect him!"
"Hakuji came home crying after they filmed Rengoku's death scene." Douma teases.
"It was a long day, alright?"
"Yeah, you guys live together right?"
"We've been best friends since we were like five, so becoming roommates when we both wanted to go to theater school was an easy decision."
"Is your friend a bit like the character he portrays?"
"Absolutely not! When we're not shooting he's cooped up in his room playing video games all day. I don't know how he maintains his figure because all I see him eat is instant ramen. I'm even convinced he's a virgin." He cooes at Douma, pinching his cheek.
"Get off me!" The platinum haired man laughs. "Like you're anything like Akaza, you manwhore."
Akaza shrugs, a sly smirk on his face. "I know a bit of martial arts. That's like my character, I guess."
"The karate workshop we had when we we're eleven? Really, that's your knowledge of martial arts?"
Akaza nods seriously, trying to hold in his laugh.
"Wow, you're really something..."
"We're almost out of time." The interviewer states. "Anything you want to add before we round this interview up?"
"I can't recommend watching Demon Slayer enough! I've never been so proud of a show or movie I've done, this is next level."
"What he said, and hi mum!" Douma says, waving at the camera with a toothy grin.
"Give a round of applause for the one and only Akaza and Douma! Thank you for the interview."
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fangirlingfromdownunder · 18 days ago
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A Sweet Mishap - Chapter 27
Pairing - Jensen Ackles x Reader 
A/N: I just want to start by thanking everyone for all the love on this story so far. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list. Please read the TW below and only read on if you feel comfortable doing so.
Potential Trigger Warnings: mentions of violence, rape, therapy, depression
A Sweet Mishap Masterlist | Main Masterlist
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
The following week, I quickly fall back into a steady rhythm exhausting myself so I can sleep at night without nightmares or at least get back to sleep after them. I work in the cafe in the morning, go to classes or study in the afternoons and do shows at night, and then on weekends it’s shows in both the afternoon and evenings with quick cram sessions in between and work when I can. The days blur together as I throw myself into the routine. But amidst the chaos, Jensen remains a constant presence. He calls or texts every day, his messages sweet and thoughtful, brightening even the hardest of days and giving me the support I need to keep pushing through the exhaustion and stress. I find myself looking forward to each message or call, my heart fluttering every time his name pops up on my phone screen. Even in the midst my busy schedule and the demands of daily life, Jensen manages to carve out a space in my thoughts and heart.
One particularly hectic day after an almost sleepless night, as I rush between a long boring class and the theater for the night’s show, my phone buzzes.
Hey, hope you're hanging in there. Just wanted to remind you to take a deep breath And know that I'm here cheering you on no matter what. You got this.
Tears prick at the corner of my eyes as I read his words, feeling an overwhelming wave of gratitude and affection wash over me in place of the stress and exhaustion. In that moment, it feels like Jensen's unwavering support is the anchor keeping me steady in the storm of my busy life. I can feel myself falling fast despite the distance and yearning to see him again.
I text back.
I’m getting thereStill having nightmares now that I’m back home aloneBut I’m so tired…
You thought about a therapist? You’ve been through a lot
Yeah…Can’t afford it right nowMoney or time wise
I can pay Make time Your mental health is important My friend and co-star here says it helps He’s been struggling too
I’m sorry to hear thatI hope he’s okBut I’ll manage
At least think about it Please I care about you
His name pops up across my screen as I try to think of a response. I sigh and answer.
“I get it, you care about me and my mental health. I’ll consider it.”
“Thank you. That’s all I wanted. Have a good show tonight.”
“Hey, wait! I’m stuck on the subway for at least another 15 minutes. Are you busy?”
“We had a dawn shoot, so finished early. I’m done for the night. How are you really?”
“Right now, while I’m out and distracted, I’m okay. At night, in that apartment alone, not so much.”
“You’re not staying with Stella?”
“She’s already got Anna. And my apartment is closer to work and college and the subway. I’ll go back there on the weekend. I just have to do the open Saturday then I have Sunday off,” I explain.
“You could call me…When you get nightmares and can’t sleep. I can just stay on the line, we don’t even need to talk. Just so you know you’re not alone.”
“You have work and responsibilities too…I can’t keep you up. You’re a movie star, you need your beauty sleep.”
“My character never sleeps more than a few hours at a time anyway, it’ll actually give my makeup artist less work.”
“Jens, Babe, I…Thanks. I’ll consider it,” I quickly finish my sentence hoping he doesn’t dwell or think too much about what I called him.
“You have to at least stick to your promise…”
“I will.”
The rest of my night progresses as expected, the show is great like every other night and the subway ride is uneventful. I use the time to work on an assessment. Then during the walk from the stop back to my apartment I call Jensen, making good on my promise that I won’t walk up to my room alone, at least until we know that the monster has been kicked out. We talk about the show and his day, just lighthearted, easy small talk until I round the corner and see my building. I stop mid sentence and hide on the other side of the building at the corner, hoping the familiar man didn’t spot me as quickly as I did him. 
Jensen is quick to ask what’s wrong. I can hear the concern in his voice. I can’t find the words to explain anything and I’m too scared to make a sound anyway in case he’s come closer. Silent tears slide down my cheeks. 
“Is it him?” I don’t answer. “Alright, Baby, it’s okay, you don’t have to talk. Just press any key if I’m right.” I press the keypad. “Okay. I’m gonna stay right here with you, okay. Did he see you? Press a key if yes.” I don’t know how to answer. I don’t know and I don’t want to check. I feel my legs giving out from the fear. “Alright, is there a shop or building that you can go into? Or can you get back to the subway? I’m texting Stella now, okay, Baby. Nick’s going to come find you. If you can, just share your location with me.”
I look around for anything that’s open this late. Most buildings are dark, this isn’t the part of New York that never sleeps. I’m too far from the city center. I force myself to start walking in the opposite direction, just trying to put some distance between us. My legs tremble with each step as the tears continue to fall. Then I duck into an alley and collapse on the ground in the shadows. I lean against a dumpster, I already feel dirty from the whole situation so l can’t find it in myself to care. I send Jensen a link to track my location.
“That’s good, I’m gonna send that to Stella. Nick will find you.”
I finally manage to whisper, “he shouldn’t be there. Anna and I filed restraining orders.”
“That’s good. That means you can call the cops and report him. They can take him away.”
“He’s probably mad, I shouldn’t have…he lives there too.”
“No, Darlin’, we’re not going there. This isn’t your fault. None of this is your fault. He doesn’t belong there, he belongs in a cell.” He sighs loudly. “I wanna book a flight back. You shouldn’t-“
“Nick’ll be here soon. I’m okay. Can you just…Just stay on-“
“Of course, Darlin’. I’m right here. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”
“Thanks…”
“Anytime. But after this, I really want us to revisit that conversation from earlier.”
“Jens-“
“No, Y/N, we get you safely to your friend’s house and then we talk about you going to therapy. I think Anna should go as well, but she’s not my girlfr-shit-just please...”
“Alright. Alright. We’ll talk about it.”
“Thank you.”
We stay on the line silently, the only sound is each other’s breaths. After a few minutes Nick’s car pulls up in front of the alley. He looks around cautiously as he gets out and makes his way over to me. I slowly push myself up off the ground.
Once Nick’s close he says, “Come on. Let’s go,”
I follow him to the car, he opens the passenger door for me and closes the door behind me before going around to the driver’s side.
“Jens, Nick’s here. I’m safe now. Can I-Can I call you later?”
“I’m glad to hear that. I’ll be here. Anytime.”
I hang up as Nick starts the engine. He briefly looks me over before pulling on to the street and turning around so we won’t go past my building. “I came past on the way here, it’s definitely him. Stell has already called the police on your behalf, but I still think you should stay with us tonight.” I nod, not sure what I could add, so he continues, “I’ve got a friend in private security, he’s gonna talk to your body corporate and try to make a deal to station someone there in response to all this. We just want you to be safe in your home, but also Anna’s been slowly opening up to Stell and we don’t want this monster to hurt anyone else. With both of your statements and this infraction you’d hope it would be enough to lock him up for good, but until we know for sure…”
I nod again. “Thanks, Nick. I’m sorry for disturbing your work…again and getting in the middle of your newly wed life.”
“I know I was harsh on you before, and I apologize for that. But regardless, this is entirely different. None of this is your fault. I spend most nights trying to stop drunk girls from leaving with guys who have similar red flags, I know the type too well, and I don’t want you anywhere near him.” He briefly glances over at me as we wait at a red light. “On the other hand though…Jensen…he seems like a good guy.”
“Yeah…or he’s an exceptional actor.”
“In my experience, guys don’t give up sleep for just anyone, unless it’s for sex. But also, he seemed so genuinely concerned for your safety. Stella made me watch an episode with her the other night, and yeah he’s a good actor. But all this with you…I don’t think that’s an act, but that’s just my two cents worth.”
“Thanks.”
As soon as he pulls up in front of their house Stella runs over to the car and pulls my door open. I fall into her arms and finally let out all the emotions I’d been holding in. She guides me over to the porch so Nick can go back to work. We sit there in each other’s arms until I finally stop crying. 
She pulls back slightly and wipes my cheeks. “You need to get out of this city for a while.”
“I can’t…and what message does that send Anna. She dealt with him for m-months. I only had a few minutes…“
“Yeah, but he’s not the first…you and I both know this isn’t just about Todd. It’s what Ty did too, isn't it?”
“He never-that-I…”
“I don’t wanna make things harder for you. But I think it’s time you talk to someone about it all.”
“You’re the second person that’s told me that tonight…”
“Jensen?”
“Yeah…and I think I should. I really like him, but I can’t be with him until I’ve dealt with all this.”
“Yeah, you won’t be able to fully trust or love him until you work through your past. And it’s not fair on him either. But don’t cut him out while you’re working on it. My advice?”
“Always.”
“Be as honest and open with him as you can and then tell him you’re going to get help. And that you would appreciate his support while you’re getting there. And that maybe after all this you can talk about the two of you.”
“Yeah, that sounds good. I’ll look into therapists and try to find a way to fit it into my schedule. Then I’ll also talk to Jens.”
She nudges me, “Awww! Jens? You’re so cute. I really hope you two work out. When you’re ready.”
I blush and let out a teary giggle, feeling a little better, thanks to her support. “We’ll see…he’s a great guy and I know he likes me. He almost slipped tonight and almost called me his girlfriend. But you’re right, I’m not ready for that. But I want to be.”
“You will be.”
I nod and we both slowly push ourselves up off the porch. She hugs me again and then we both go inside.
I take a quick shower in her ensuite and she lets me borrow a hoodie and some sweats to sleep in since I didn’t get to bring anything with me. Before settling in for the night on the couch, I quickly text Jensen to let him know I’m safe at Stella’s house and am going to sleep and will call him when I can.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Taglist: @stoneyggirl2 @hobby27, @n-o-p-e-never, @deansimpalababy,
@winchesterwild78, @kr804573, @chriszgirl92, @smoothdogsgirl
@speakinvain, @deans-baby-momma, @1967winchesterimpala
@lmg14, @superrey, @kamisobsessed
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wall-e-2008 · 26 days ago
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Hello! I noticed you’re accepting asks and I wanted to pop in
So I just wanted to say that I 100% empathize with your WALL-E obsession, WALL-E is also my favorite Pixar movie and has been basically my entire life, however, I was 11 months old when it came out. I don’t think I’ve had a favorite Pixar movie outside of WALL-E during my whole life so I just wanted to say that I’m also a big fan of WALL-E and I love seeing your collection!
And now a question
How did you get into WALL-E in the first place?
Hello! Thank you so much for your ask! You are so kind! I was 10-11 years old when Wall-E released in theaters. I grew up spending a lot of time watching movies, especially animated movies. I remember something about the movie trailer for Wall-E really captured my attention. The movie looked unique, unlike anything I had seen before. I also remember thinking about how adorable Wall-E was. It was one of the few movies that I made my parents take me to on the opening day. I was so excited for this movie that I remember I drew Wall-E and Eve and taped my drawings all around the house to celebrate. I think I was drawn to it because it had a lot of my interests. When I was a kid I loved learning about space and I grew up watching a lot of movies/shows set in space. Also at that age I was being introduced to musicals. I also have always enjoyed romantic cute stories since I was really young.
When I walked out of the theater in 2008, I said Wall-E was my favorite movie now and that has never changed. I have never seen another animated movie that has affected me as much as Wall-E had. As I have gotten older I have just grown to appreciate the film even more. I now appreciate it for its animation, creativity, voice acting, story telling, and use of sound or music.
Wall-E is a movie that is so wholesome and adorable. It has helped me get through a lot of hard times growing up. I've had severe anxiety since I was around 10 years old so this film and even specifically the character Wall-E helped me cope. It still makes me laugh, smile, and cry every time I watch it.
So yeah, I guess I've just been into Wall-E ever since I watched it in theaters in 2008! I am now almost 27 and I don't think my love for this film will ever change.
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harringtonstilinski · 9 months ago
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Mastermind - Richie Boyle (Smut)
Author: @harringtonstilinski​ Characters: Richie Boyle x Reader Word Count: 2,691 Warnings: fluff Smut: no | yes; fingering Requested: Yes! I hope it meets your expectations, anon friend!​​​ A/N: Hi, friends! After not posting for Richie for ages, I'm finally getting one out! I think this is the shortest smut piece I've ever written, lol. BUT, I hope you like this! If you do, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox. As always, read at your own risk and enjoy 😊
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May 1956. The biggest month of your life. Your third date with Richie Boyle was this month. The two of you had met at Burling’s when you were getting your father’s suit back from being tailored. 
After Leonard had handed you your father’s suit, you turned to walk back through the entry where Mable sat, only to crash into Roy Boyle’s son. He held you steady with a hand on your back, asking if you were okay, and from then on, you and Richie had a thing going.
He had brought you to his home the night of your second date to meet father, the Irish Mob Boss, Roy Boyle. Everyone was taught to fear ol’ Roy because of his background, but he showed you nothing but kindness and welcomed you into his home with open arms. Ever since then, you were an honorary member of the Boyle family.
But, tonight was a very special night. Richie had told you that he had something special planned and to dress casually but nice. Since the only thing you really wore was skirts, you opted for a black, knee length one with a pink top and your black and white Oxford shoes. 
Your hair was down and in curls that were in style. As you were touching your curls up, you heard a knock coming from the front door, so you hurried as quickly and elegantly as you could before grabbing your purse, your coat and gloves, putting your coat and purse on as you walked briskly to the door, opening it after putting on one of your gloves.
Smiling, you looked at how handsome Richie looked in his suit. “Hi, Richie.”
“Hi, beautiful,” he replied. “Damn. You look beautiful.”
“Thank you,” you said, your cheeks warming a little. “You look handsome as ever.”
“Thanks, doll.”
The nickname that made your knees weak. 
“You ready?” Richie asked.
“Yeah, let’s go,” you smiled, putting on the other glove. 
Richie put his arm out to the side, letting you walk in front of him after you locked and shut your door. Being the gentleman that his father raised him to be, he made himself home on your right, blocking the traffic from you in case something were to happen.
The movie theater wasn’t far from your home; a couple of blocks at most. Richie had it all planned out, and executed part of his plan on his walk to get you. He put his arm around you as you walked before saying, “Listen, doll, I was thinking; maybe we'll catch a later show and go get some dinner.”
You happily groaned, carefully leaning your head back on his shoulder as to not mess your curls up. “I’m starving. I haven’t eaten since lunch.”
“No snacks?”
“Nope. I was too busy getting ready to think about food.”
The two of you hadn’t really had your first kiss as a couple yet. The closest your lips got to each other were your cheeks. So when you looked up at Richie, your heart beat just a little bit faster as he looked down at you and smirked before kissing your forehead.
Nevertheless, you smiled and looked forward, seeing a couple put their heads down and scoot to the other side of the sidewalk. The action made you sigh in defeat.
“What’s the matter, doll?” Richie asked.
“I just don’t like seeing people cower at seeing you or your father,” you answered, honestly. “It makes me sad.”
“I know. But that’s the way my family works.”
Looking back up at him, you said, “Please tell me it won’t be like that if we have a family one day.”
Richie looked down at you, seeing the worry in your eyes, and smirked. “I promise. Besides, I think Francis will take over and kick me out of my own family.”
“I’ll have to hurt him, then,” you said, a small smile on your own face.
Turning the both of you towards the door of both of your favorite Italian restaurant, Richie asked, “And how do you plan on doin’ that?”
“Kick him in his family jewels.”
The two of you chuckled as you walked inside, the host quickly grabbing two menus and leading you to Richie’s normal table. What struck you as odd as the three of you passed the tables, was seeing Mable there, looking sad and uncomfortable at seeing the two of you together.
You decided to ask Richie about after the host left the table once Richie helped you in your chair. “Hey, Richie?”
“Yeah, doll?” he asked, looking at his menu, already knowing what he wanted.
“Was there something between you and Mable before I came along? She’s here and looked quite upset.”
Sighing, Richie set the menu down, lacing his fingers together before placing his arms on the table. “Yes. I couldn’t get you off my mind after our first meeting, so I broke things off with her a couple of weeks later. I waited about two months before asking you on our first date.”
“Such a gentleman,” you replied, sarcastically. 
“You’ve seen how my Pops is with me and Francis. Treats that son of a bitch like he’s his goddamn son.”
You flinched at his use of language, something you weren’t used to yet.
“Sorry, doll,” he apologized. “But the one good thing about him is that he treats you like the daughter he’s always wanted.”
“Well, that’s good to know,” you smiled, holding your water glass up to take a small sip.
When the waiter showed up at the table with Richie’s favorite appetizer, he voiced that our meals would be out shortly, to which Richie thanked him for. 
He looked at you, a chuckle sounding from his throat at the disgusted look on your face. “What?”
“I still can’t believe you eat calamari.”
Just then, the waiter returned, setting a plate in front of you, profusely apologizing. “I am so sorry, Mr. Boyle. It won’t happen again.”
“It’s fine,” you answered. “Thank you.” You smiled up at the waiter, seeing a bead of sweat fall to his eyebrow from his hairline. 
He quickly smiled at you before darting off to the kitchen. 
Looking at Richie, you knew the look he was wearing all too well. “Oh, stop it, Richie. It was an accident. Maybe they didn’t have it ready when yours was. I mean, you do come here alone sometimes. Maybe they didn’t think you’d have someone with you.”
“Then why would they get two menus?”
“Rich,” you said, softly. Using the nickname only you were allowed to use, aside from his mother before she passed. “It’s fine. Don’t cause a scene.”
Richie relented, looking down at your plate. “Tomato and bruschetta?”
Holding one out for him, you smiled and said, “Here, try it.”
“Try the calamari first.”
“I have. I had a bad batch once. Turned me off of it forever.”
“Where from?” Richie asked.
Waving him off, you answered, “This little diner I used to work at. I actually think your dad used to stop by a lot.”
You looked at him while taking a bite of your food, seeing a look of confusion and thoughtfulness on his face. Snorting lightly, you covered your mouth with your hand. “What’s with the look?”
“Pops never stopped by any diner. Not that- wait, the one off West Randolph?” He pointed his fork at you in recollection. “The sock-hop one.”
Nodding with a smile on your face, you answered, “The Soda Hop.” You set your bruschetta down, covering your mouth while you laughed. “Such a cheesy name.”
Richie joined you in your laughter, essentially agreeing with you about the name when the waiter showed back up, bringing out Richie’s order of a roast chicken with his favorite sides, as well as your order. 
The two of you dug into your meals, laughing and chatting while you ate. When dessert came, you thought you were going to bust, but as you were walking along the sidewalk with your arm wrapped around Richie’s, everything seemed to fall into place.
To say that you were falling in love with Richie was an understatement. You were in love with him the moment you bumped into him at Burling’s. You’re thankful that your father sent you instead of going himself.
As you and Richie approached the theater, you stopped him and turned to face him. “Please tell me this is just a normal date on a normal night watching a normal movie.”
Richie took half a step closer to you, placing his hand gently against your cheek, your head tilting into his touch. “Of course it is, doll. Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Because you’re Richie Boyle, and knowing you, you probably bought out the whole theater for only us.” You felt him stiffen slightly at that.
“Richieeeeee,” you groaned.
“I just wanted it to be special,” he said, softly.
“It would’ve been special even if it was packed full of people, babe.”
Chuckling, his eyes cast down to your lips before looking back into your eyes. “Wouldn’t be special with what I have planned for us, beautiful.”
Your core clenched at his words. The two of you hadn’t reached that part in your relationship yet, and you felt ready. You just weren’t sure if Richie was ready for that part. Well, you actually did know that he was ready. It was just a matter of time before either of you made a move in those regards.
“Come on,” Richie said, putting his arm around your shoulders. “Let’s go enjoy this movie.”
You didn’t know which movie he had picked, so to say that you were excited was an understatement as the two of you walked up to the snack counter, where Richie ordered the two of you a couple of Cokes before you two went into the theater.
Finding your seats was easy as Richie had suggested the seats in the dead center of the room. Smiling as you sat down, you looked at your boyfriend, watching as he took off his coat and hat, setting them into the seat next to him before finally finding a purchase beside you on his own.
You could feel that something big was going to come out of tonight, whether it was him ending the night in your bed, or you in his, but as he laced his fingers with yours, pulling your knuckles to his lips, you didn’t care where the night ended… as long as it ended with him.
The film that the two of you were watching was titled The Man in the Gray Flannel Suit. You had absolutely no idea what it was about, but you sat through the first quarter of the movie, eyes glued to the screen as you tried to follow along with the story line.
When you felt Richie’s lips on your knuckles again, you looked over at him, watching as he kissed his way down your hand and up your arm. As his eyes locked on yours, you couldn’t help the feeling that came over you as you leaned towards him, and he to you, your lips locking in your very first kiss as a couple. 
As your lips moved in sync, you didn’t register his hand moving to your inner thigh, slowly pulling your skirt up to your mid-thigh before gliding his fingers back up your inner thigh to where you wanted him most.
“Richie,” you moaned, softly.
“Yeah, babydoll?” he asked. You could hear that stupid smirk on his face as he spoke. “What do you want?”
Resting your head on his shoulder as he barely skimmed your clothed core, you quietly whined, “You,” before looking back at him. “I want you.”
“What do you want me to do?”
Softly kissing his lips, you breathed out a sigh before whispering, “Touch me. Please.”
He looked around at the exit points for any of the employees before looking up into the projection booth, seeing a body disappear out of sight before the booth’s door and exit doors closed, leaving the two of you alone.
Richie looked back to you, seeing an already fucked out look on your face. “Damn, baby. Fuckin’ needy already, huh?” He turned his body more toward you, moving his hand from your aching core to your knee, spreading your legs a little further apart, your skirt rising up more at the action.
Bringing his hand back to your center, his eyes locked onto his hand as he rubbed and down with two fingers before looking back at your face, your eyes shut at the small amount of pleasure he was giving you. “Do you want more, baby?”
Nodding your head, you whined a little louder than before. “Please.” You opened your eyes at the feel of your panties being moved to the side, Richie’s fingers gliding up your center, spreading your lips apart to reveal more of you to him.
You’d had sex with other men, sure, but none of them made you as wet as Richie did. 
“Damn, babydoll,” he whispered, eyes moving from your wet core to your eyes. “This all for me?”
You nodded your head again, your bottom lip between your teeth. A moan escaped your throat as you watched him put his fingers into his mouth, lapping up the arousal he had gathered, a satisfied groan coming from his own throat.
Bringing his fingers out of his mouth, he said, “You taste amazing, baby,” before bringing his fingers back to your center, a single digit sliding into you with ease, pumping a few times to elicit a long and loud moan from you before bringing said digit to your clit, where started to rub your nub in circles.
“You like that, babydoll?” he asked. “You like me playing with your clit?”
Your answer came in the form a loud moan, your head tossing back slowly, the pleasure starting to course through you as he moved his finger down to your entrance, circling your arousal a few times before inserting two fingers into your heat, his thumb attaching to your clit where he rubs circles in time with the pace he was setting his fingers.
“Damn, babydoll, you’re makin’ me hard,” he whispered, watching as your hips rolled in time with his fingers, the pressure in your belly starting to form.
Picking your head up, you looked at Richie, one of your eyebrows up and the other furrowed in pleasure. “Please, don’t stop Rich.” You took a breath to speak, but your words were cut off by a groan of pleasure. “Fuck, don’t stop.”
Richie almost stopped all movements of his hand at hearing you say the word fuck. “My little innocent girlfriend said the word fuck. I’m corrupting you.”
“Shut the fuck up and make me cum,” you replied, your body bouncing with the movements of your hips. Once you felt the coil in your tummy was about to snap, you tossed your head back again, saying, “Faster, Rich. I’m gonna cum.”
Doing as you asked, Richie pumped his fingers a little faster, a yelp sounding from you as he pumped his fingers a little harder than he anticipated.
“Oh, my god,” you groaned. “Do that again. Do that a-” The word died on your tongue as Richie pumped his fingers harder into your core, the coil snapping without warning, your pussy pulsing against his fingers.
Slowly working you through your orgasm, Richie couldn’t help but watch as you tilted your head back up, looking him in the eyes. When he was sure your high was over, he pulled his fingers from you, putting his fingers back into his mouth. “Fuck, you’re incredible,” he moaned after pulling his clean fingers from his mouth.
He readjusted your panties and skirt, your legs back in their proper place. Once your head was resting against his shoulder with your hand around his arm, you sighed in content, noticing the movie was almost over with.
Looking up at him, you smiled. “Thank you,” you whispered.
Once he looked down at you, he smiled back and asked, “For what?” “The best night of my life… you little mastermind.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A/N 2: let me know what you thought!
Additional Note: i hope i did richie justice! 
~~~
Forever / Everything Taglist: @stiles-o-dylan24​​​​​​ @stixnstripesworld​​​​​​ @fandom-princess-forevermore​​​​​​ @quanticobae​​​​​​ @mischiefandi​​​​​​ @kellyashcroft​​​​​​ @lauren-novak​​​​​​​ @good-vibes-and-glitter​​​​​​
Posted on January 31, 2024
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