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cherry-leclerc · 18 days

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so long, london ☆ ln4

genre: angst, toxic relationship traits, fluff, humor, established relationship, one-sided, smut

word count: 7.3k

You've never been read so easily by someone until he entered your world. All is good, all is true love, but realistically, that all comes crumbling down. Leaving you with a series of doubts. The kind you ignore because why not?

nsfw warning under the cut!

18+...penetrative sex, m!receiving, f!receiving

inspired by this and this !

To be completely fair, the accent wasn’t all that familiar to you. It’s odd, then alluring, then it makes you curl a brow. Australian? British? Irish—no, that’s too far off, ridiculous, really.

It’s the end of spring, which means it’s also the start of summer, which also means your job is in full force. Which is good if you’re still considering transferring to London to study abroad. You were, thank you very much, which is why you needed a shit load of money.

Being a waitress isn’t all that bad; the view was breathtaking. Laguna Beach has always been and always will be. It’s impossible to take away its charm.

The diner is small, yet crowded, so it’s hard to get through with a stack of breakfast plates atop one another. A piece of bacon slips past you as you let out a curse, mentally noting to clean it up on your way back. “An order of pancakes, french toast, two hashbrowns, bacon, four freshly squeezed orange juice—shit. I forgot, it was grapefruit, wasn’t it?”

Setting down the plates as carefully as you can with their assistance, you let out a sigh. “I’ll be right back—”

“It’s fine, mate. Orange juice is just as good.” His voice is soft and rough, all at once.

You halt, fixing your apron, awkwardly. “No, it was my mistake, I’ll fix it—”

Mmm, delicious, his friends chime in as they take a sip from the fresh beverage. The blue eyed boy signals with his dark brows. “Told you. Don’t worry about it.”

“Cool,” you mumble. “Enjoy. Oh, and let me know if you need anything.”

They don’t, which is quite upsetting since you were slightly curious to find out if you were right. Smoking a joint, you hear a loud cough. The mysterious brunette waves. “Tough shift?”

“Of course not, I love it.”

He nods. “I’m sure you do, but I’m also sure that’s not the complete truth.” He sits. “You’re on your break, I presume, which means you're not on the clock, which means I’m no longer a customer, but rather just a stranger. A stranger whom you will most likely never see again, so…”

A puff expands through the blue sky and yellow sun. You squint. “I’m worn out. Down. Worn down? Both.”

“You’re good at hiding it.”

A chuckle. “But you were able to notice which obviously means I’m not much of an actress.”

He motions over to the cigarette. You hesitantly hand it over to him as he sucks sharply and releases. Bemused, you make a face. “I was because I go through the same thing, oftentimes. More like all the time.” Another hit. “I understand.”

“I’m not sure whether I should feel seen or scared…” Humor laces your soft voice as you quirk a brow. He laughs.

“Seen, definitely.” A beat. “I’m Lando. Foreign visitor.”

Shaking his hand, you ease up, smiling, gently. “Nice to meet you, Lando—foreign visitor.” A pause. “Resident.”

“Really, now?” He plays along, teasing. You can hear it.

“Lucky, I know. Been here my entire life. Can’t complain.”

“I bet.”

“Yourself?”

Lando winces. “England. Bristol, specifically. Ever been?” Nope. A toothy grin. “Don’t—rains all day long, gloomy all year. It’s depressing, but…” He relaxes. “It’s home.”

Staring off into the waves, you cover your face from the strong breeze. Salt air splits your tongue in half as you wipe your mouth. “Your accent. It’s captivating. As soon as I heard it, I grew jealous.”

The Brit frowns. “Your accent is much better. Clean,” he adds and you let out a snort. Accent—what accent? He rolls his blue eyes. “That one. You might not consider it one, but it is. Very…pretty.” A rosy tint flourishes onto his cheeks. Summer heat, summer breeze, perhaps.

Retreating the roll from his hand, you stomp on it, letting the light die. “Thank you, Lando from England. You made my day.”

That’s the end, really. Just a nice encounter that still doesn’t make much sense, but you’re glad it happened. Normally, after a tiring shift, you borrow Benny’s surfboard and rush towards the killer waves. The soothing water releases a lot of the built up tension that lies between your shoulder blades.

Today isn’t much different. After getting yelled at for— “getting the fucking order wrong, bitch” —and— “my toddler just threw up, yes, oh, nevermind, had a…teensy accident” — you don’t second guess it. As soon as your skin connects to the warm temperature, you sigh in sweet relief.

“I need to get out, I need to get out, I need to—”

“You just got here, though. Plus, the water feels nice, don’t you think?”

Startled, you sit up on your board, rocking back and forth. With what looks to be a painful tan, Lando smiles, sheepishly. “Hello…again.”

“Are…” You look around, but the ocean is practically empty. “A-are you stalking me?”

His smile drops. “W-wh—no! Of course not! I saw you from afar, and I just thought…” He grimaces. “I should go.” Except he can’t. Every chance he tries to tread away, the waves only push him back. It’s comedic. “One sec…crap. One more—shit. Okay, two, two sec—”

“Ah, forget it, stay. Land of the free, no?” Rubbing your nose, you pull his paddle closer. “What brought you out here?”

“Heard it was a good day to attempt to surf. Tell you what—it’s not.”

A giggle escapes, then lessens. You furrow your brows. “Hold on a minute; are you teaching yourself? As in, no instructor? Just you? Alone? Solo?”

“Yeah, what about it?” he grumbles. “I can do it.”

You’re wheezing at this point, stomach clenching. “That’s nearly impossible! I’m mean, sort of, sort of not.” When his eyes don’t switch from being offended to getting the joke, you quickly snap your lips shut. “Can I teach you? It’s not that hard.”

He gapes, curls grow more and more. They’re cute, the way they bounce when he shakes his head. “And if it’s so easy then why can’t I just do it myself?”

“How long have you been trying?”

He burns up. “That’s not the point.”

“No, that’s exactly my point. You need a mentor, and lucky for you, I’m a surf instructor on the weekends. Come on.”

The twenty-four year old is not sure he even wants to be here, suffering from an overdose of embarrassment. Every single attempt ends up with him splashing straight into the clear water. He groans for the millionth time, clutching into his board. “I think I’m done for the day.”

You don’t fight him on it. His bruised nose makes you feel bad, and his chipped lip makes you want to giggle, so yeah, that’s enough. He can taste the salt water as he smacks his lips, trying to get rid of it. You click your tongue. “That doesn’t really do anything. Not until you bathe and brush your teeth. Or rinse. Either or.”

He invites you to the mansion he’s rented for him and his friends, declaring that there would be endless amounts of alcohol, but when you decline, he rubs his jaw and grimaces. “Yeah, I’m not in the mood, either. Craving tacos?”

So, that’s what you two do; converse over an amazing meal. You can already note his skin shedding, but for some reason, it’s endearing. You even spot a couple of moles. Chewing rapidly to try and forget about the spice, he pants. “London, eh?”

“England,” you correct. He deadpans you.

“That’s basically the same thing. It’s along the same lines. Just like Monaco and Paris.”

You shrug. “London—yes.”

Sniffling, he reaches for his can of Coke. Gasping left and right, he winks to the best of his ability. “You’re a smart girl…I think. And you’ll get in…I think.”

“Gee, thanks, I think.”

He laughs. “I hope you get in. I really do, Laguna Resident.” You roll your eyes. “You won’t miss all of this, though?” The warmth, the people, everything. A bittersweet feeling runs through your veins, momentarily, before you wave him off.

“Nothing is holding me back, forcing me to stay. I’ll be just fine.”

Finally, he calms down, occasionally sneezing. The way he excuses himself makes him look very polished. Lando licks his lips clean, drumming his long fingers against his lap. Later you would find out this would be his nervous tick. A teller. A good one, at most.

“Call me? When you get there, I mean—if you want to, of course. No pressure.”

And while you may not have a reason to be a part of SoCal anymore, something else seemed to tug you to the other side of the world. “Might have to take your word for it.”

“Good.”

You grin, looking down onto your lap. Later he’d know this was your way of avoiding his stare. Butterflies, for the meantime. “Good.”

“No, no, no! You were supposed to—forget it, nevermind. Did you at least—” The stream flatlines and Lando is left speechless, headset drooping down, inch by inch. The way his eyes furiously twitch is enough for you to peck his cheek.

“It’s late anyways. Come on, let's go to bed.”

There’s utter nonsense, and mumbo-jumbo that he spills as he reluctantly follows. If Max had done this, and if Max had done that. Pouting, you cradle his face, forcing him to look at you. “You’re telling me you wish you would still rather be playing than spend time with me?” You gently slap his face and he smiles, sheepishly. “I’m hurt.”

“No, no, you’re right. Of course I want to spend time with you.” When you peck his nose, he sighs. You can faintly smell the cheap beer, courtesy of said Max, so you let out a screech, creating a distance.

“Never mind. I don’t want to spend time with you, you reek.” His smile drops and you pinch the tip of your nose. “Reek, I tell you. Go brush your teeth!”

The McLaren driver snarls, then makes his way over to your shared bathroom. “I remember when you used to be fun. Seems like a decade ago.”

“And make sure to floss!”

If you’re able to remember, you could openly admit that you did make that call. Actually, text. You got cold feet and sent a text last minute. You met up at the pub just around your dorm, the one that is only busy during the weekends, so is practically empty during the week. Hence, Wednesday night.

Wow. Your tan is gone, is the first thing he says when he sees you. It’s true. Being away from the California sun has completely changed you. A bit, but it did. Giggling, you accept his hug, finding warmth. London weather. “How was the move? I want to hear all about it.”

Oh, the move was as good as it could get. The airport lost two of my luggages, but it’s fine, I didn’t really need many dresses, because yes, you were right, it’s always gloomy. I miss Benny like a baby, but we always keep in touch—I’m actually going to visit him for his birthday. Which is in January? Yes…yes! January third.

“What about you? Work?”

First of all, can’t really consider it work when it’s fucking fun. Second of all, it’s quite swell. I’ve got a new teammate, which sort of sucks, but he’s nice. The car is a bit wonky, but I’m sure that’ll change throughout the course of the year. Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.

Conversations switched from having them on a steady stool in the pub, to having them in the comfort of his flat. Plus, you two were more open and honest with one another.

Benny, yeah, it’s pancreatic cancer, and no, I’m not okay.

The team is fucking shit. My arm still hurts from last week's crash, but I’ll be fine. Please, don’t you worry, love.

Lando is an absolute angel. He pays for your tickets back home, along with Benny’s treatment. He declines the help at first, but as soon as he meets your smiley boyfriend, he accepts. I’ll pay you back. Once I’m better. Lando laughs with a muppet dive. Of course—of course, Ben.

You take care of him and his injuries. Follow doctors orders. Ice at least twice a day. Don’t forget to take your pain meds. No, for the love of God, they’re not candy, sweetheart.

It’s the best and the worst. And it’s all yours.

He’s very much obsessed with Mila as soon as she’s born. He congratulates his brother and his sister-in-law once, and off he goes, straight to the newborn. It makes you fall in love even more, which you didn’t know was possible, but here you were.

“I say give it a year or two.”

“More like five. Come on, honey, be realistic.”

“I am! Can’t you tell he adores her?” Oliver scoffs. “He’s my brother. I would know.” His wife rolls her eyes, then moves on to snap a few pictures of Lando and Mila, then a thousand videos.

“Crap. I want one,” he mentions on the drive back home. He gently rubs his thumb over your leg; you shudder. “You saw me, you were a witness, I was a good enough babysitter!”

“Babysitter? You’d be a dad, not a babysitter,” you retort, though your wobbly grin is a dead giveaway. A long finger pokes at your ribs as you laugh, scooting as far enough away as the McLaren allows you to get. “One day. Just not now.”

And he knows that’s true. He’s busy with racing, you’re busy with school; it's irresponsible. Your confirmation was sweet though—it was enough. The Brit hums, continuing the drive with a bright smile.

“One day, then.”

Baby talk was a fun thing to dream about. To think, daydream. Marriage talk? Now that’s serious.

It started on a Sunday morning; a non-race week. He’s finally back home and you're ecstatic. He was too, but that slowly goes out the window when you rush him to the room. I like where this is going, he starts when you drag him along. You bite back a smile, waiting for his noise. “What the shit?” he yelps, pulling on his curls. Spinning to face you, your boyfriend groans. “Where’s all my gaming—sweetheart,” he softened his voice, softened his eyes. “Sweetheart…”

“It’s gone! Bye-bye, adios!” You twirl around the empty room. “You don’t need it, Lando. It was rotting your brain.”

The color from his vibrant face fades, leaving him to let out a delirious laugh. “No, no, it wasn’t. Wh-why would you do that?” He doubles over. “I’m going to be sick.”

After a while of letting him drown in a puddle of self-pity, you snicker. Blue eyes look up at you; furrowed thick brows. What? “They’re in the guest room. I just needed us to paint the walls.” Releasing a scream, Lando plunges for you, picking you up and spinning you around until you flop against his arms.

“Asshole!” you yell, smacking his arm. After a series of instructions, you both fall into a pattern. He focuses on the left side of the room and you focus on the left and the right. It just makes sense.

“Stick to your side,” he mumbles, pushing you away. You burn a laser to the back of his head. “I can feel you killing me—stop it.”

“Then quit drawing, you’re ruining it!” There’s a cat, a dog, a house, his racing car, you—you presume— and Mila for good measure, but he serves her no justice as she appears to be more of a blob. Going over it with a thick layer of paint, he curses to himself. As soon as he picks up the thin brush once again, you immediately set your foot down. “No, Lando, think before you commit.”

But he must not hear you—or ignores you—because suddenly he’s drawing something unrecognizable. You almost laugh when you guess it must be a donut, but when he draws the familiar rock, you come to a halt. “Stellar, no?”

“Hardly. Looks like more of a neck guard—next!”

But he pushes you away as soon as you reach over to cover it up. “I’m being serious. I’m mean, not now, but someday. Are you…” His voice drops, slowly, and he drums his fingers onto his thigh. Your lips turn upward. “...open to it? Getting married?”

“Well,” you start and his breath hitches, nervously tapping, awaiting for your response. Pressing your lips against his, you breathe out, and he groans. “I love you, Lando. I’m more than open to it.”

He sighs in relief, kissing you harder this time, with more emotion. “Good.” A beat. “Thank you.”

Slowly, but surely, you’re celebrating your three year anniversary—in Japan, a race week—but still. Yuki specifically gives you two a list of places to visit, so it makes everything a thousand percent easier. Fifth, he grunts, throwing his helmet onto the tiny bed in his motorhome. Screw it, I’m blowing my brains out.

“Hey now, quit talking like that.” A kiss. “I don’t care if you’re upset, I happen to be super duper proud.”

“It’s Super Trouper,” Oscar yells from the other side of the wall. “Don’t disrespect ABBA like that.

“Yeah,” Lando hums, pulling you in. “Don’t.”

“I’ll pull the trigger,” you warn.

He gasps, theatrically. “You wouldn’t dare…”

“Try me.”

“I already have—sweet.” His dirty implications makes you heat up and the Australian groans as he turns up his music. Lando snickers, changing quickly. “Happy Anniversary. It’s not everyday, you know?”

“I know,” you cheer, playing with your promise ring. You beam up at the bubbly Brit. “I just wish we were home. Celebrating in the comfort of our own place.”

He doesn’t mention it, but you considering London your home—despite not growing up there—makes him crush on you harder than ever before; it's sickening. Clapping loudly, he stands up, reaching for your hand. “Then let's go back home. What’s keeping us here?”

“Yuki,” you grunt, taking his open hand. “We’d be breaking his heart, Lan. We need to do these twenty-one things.”

“Ah, he’ll understand.” A pause. “If he doesn’t then we’ll just buy his next meal to make up for it.”

Cackling, you peck his face, over and over until he pushes you away in a jokeful manner. “This is why I love you, Lando Norris!”

And he’s content, admiring the way you pack happily. He’s never seen someone so giddy to spend fourteen hours on a plane just to curl into the comfort of their bed. He’s just never seen or met anyone like you.

It was perfect.

As soon as he picks up his own digital camera, he’s in love. Part of you would be jealous, definitely, if it weren’t for him stopping to take a thousand pictures of you. One in the McLaren garage, next to his car. One where you balance yourself on a swing, eventually falling straight onto your face. One of your newly bruised nose, due to the fall. One where you’re sleeping, drooling like a—

“Delete that, I don’t even want to see it!”

Shaking his head full of curls, he runs away. “No! I happen to love it!”

“Lando!”

“You look adorable.”

“Fuck you, I’m leaving. Spend the night alone, loser.”

You don’t end up keeping your word. You get your revenge, eventually, when you pie him in his sleep. He nearly chokes, but it’s all in good fun, according to you.

But neither of you would have it any other way. You just happen to be his muse.

His greediness starts to show overnight, nearly. It catches you off guard, leaving you like a lost dog. The worst part is that it’s not directed directly at you, per se, but it felt like it. Most of the time, you’d deal with this by talking to him until he calms down, by making him a cup chamomile tea, because—

“It doesn’t help!” He paces the small room, throwing his gloves harshly against the wall.

“Studies prove—”

“Studies my ass.” An angry huff. “I just need to be alone. For a while.”

And it also catches you off guard how you don’t fight him back on it. Instead, you’re glad, fleeing out the door, straight to God knows where. Strolling, you twist and turn the thin band.

Where are you going?

“You said you wanted to be…” Except it’s not Lando. George quirks a dark brow. You gulp, forcing a smile. “I’m sorry. I thought you were…” A painful pause. “I thought you were Lando.”

“Must be the accent.” He laughs. “Don’t worry about it. Carmen actually made me chase you down. Said she wants your opinion with something about the wedding. You know her—perfectionist.”

“Oh. Yes. Of course.” Throwing your hair over your shoulder, you beam brighter this time, though it doesn’t quite meet your eyes. “I have plenty of time.”

He’s rude when he finds you. Well, not really, but even your friends notice it. I’m telling him to wear a simple black and white suit. A bow or a tie, he can decide, but he’s insisting on wearing white and I’m like hello? You giggle, orbs moving to find George with a playful glare.

“Why can you be the only one wearing white? It’s this some kind of rule or?”

“No, but it’s weird!” Carmen turns to face you, desperate eyes begging for backup. “Come on! Tell him it’s weird.”

Plump lips flicker upward. “I don’t know, George, it is a b—”

“Awful. You’re going to steal all the attention away from Caren and you’re going to look horrible. Just go with a traditional suit.”

The Mercedes driver doesn’t pay any attention to what was just said to him, but you and Carmen do, and that’s probably worse. You can tell she’s bothered by your boyfriend's unwanted opinion and for him going after her fiancé, so you briskly stand up. “Sweetheart, are you, um…ready to go?”

The Brit nods, fixing his bag that lays over his shoulder. “That’s why I’m here, no? Could have let me know you were leaving, too.” There’s tension in his voice; annoyance. “Also, I forgot your bag. I’ll wait for you here.”

His implication makes you queasy. You blink hastily. “Of course.” Turning to the older couple, you smile politely. “Um…text me, yeah? Let me know what you two decide on.”

Once you rush off, Carmen narrows her usually kind eyes, hard. George is quick, placing a steady hand onto her lap, and clears his throat. “You know, just because you didn’t place a podium for once doesn’t mean you get to act like a jerk. Seriously.”

Lando chooses to ignore his comment, bidding goodbye, and strolls over to find you, flustered. “Now I’m ready,” you confirm with a weak smile. The Brit laces his fingers through yours and brings it up to his mouth, pressing a warm kiss.

“You know I love you, right?”

“I do. I do know.”

He’s trying to be more gentle, you can tell. With his words, with his actions. It reminds you why you chose him. He had apologized after a quiet night, settling with what he had done. How he had treated you and his friends. George is quick to accept his apology, and you were too.

“I didn’t mean it,” he groans quietly, chest pressed against yours as you ride him. “I s-shouldn’t have—fuck.” The way you clench around him tightly makes his head spin. A whine escapes your swollen lips as you nod, fast, then slow, then staggered. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you pant, finally opening your eyes to find him already looking up at you. He squeezes your hips harder, keeping you firm. “You were upset, that’s all. I get it.”

She gets it, he remembers thinking, considering himself lucky for having a girlfriend who understands. His highs. His lows. His wins. He loses. This—this is why you were the one.

But once again, his lack of display is what reluctantly pushes you away.

Then back in.

It’s been three months of him not even picking up his camera. Maybe he’s just too lazy to develop his pictures, so you do it for him. There’s really no excuse. That’s what you say with light humor when you push it towards his chest, but he only cocks his head to the side. “I never asked for you to do that.”

Your stomach churns. You lick your chapped lips. “You don’t need to. I just…did it. Thought it might help get you out of your slump.”

This pushes something in him as he narrows his brows like a set of sharp knives. “Slump?” A scoff. “What? Because I haven’t been able to get a win?”

“What?” You’re dazed. “No.” You’re confused. “No, why would you say that?”

“I don’t know—why would you?”

“I mean it because you’ve been down, that’s it. Not because…” When his eyes don’t change, and your heart continues to pound, you flip him a smile. “You’re right. My choice of words weren’t the best. I’m sorry.”

The blue eyed boy clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth once, then sets the camera to his side. “Whatever, it’s fine, I guess.” And suddenly he’s making his way to his gaming room, leaving you with wide eyes and a bruised heart.

“Wait!” Carefully, you pick up the small camera, extending it out towards him. “Wh-what do you want me to do? Should I pack it into your suitcase? Or maybe I could—”

“Pack it, yes, but into a box and put it in the attic.” He continues his march. “I lost interest a long time ago, either way.”

You’re not dazed. You’re not confused.

You’re broken hearted.

You would think that you would have learned by now. He loves you, damn it. He’s just having a tough time proving it, but it’s fine, stuff like this happens all the time.

“Hello, darling,” Carmen greets, pulling you away from your trance. The camera pans over to Lance, Carlos, and Lando. She gingerly takes the spot next to you. “Feeling alright? Lost a bit of weight and color.” Her concern can’t be hidden behind even the tallest mountain.

Been working out. London is gloomy all day long. Haven’t gotten proper Vitamin D. Looking down onto your lap, you twirl your fingers. Over and under, over and under, over and un—

Her hands feel warm against yours and you can’t help but flinch, instinctively needing to pull away, but she holds on tighter. Not even your boyfriend's hands have felt as warm as hers; not in a very long time. “You can talk to me. Anytime.” Eyes remain downward, watering, so, like most nights before bed, you blink them away. Hard, fast, and cruel.

“Have you chosen the song you want to be for your guys’ first dance?”

She remains still for a second, focuses directly into your soul and you blink faster before she has a chance to decode you. She always did. “We have. My Funny Valentine. Hear this, Daniel wants to sing it. With a band and the whole thing. Nightmare.”

And you’re glad for having her stories to distract you from your feelings, because silly is what they are. Childish. False. It’s only until the end of the race where you two realize you hadn’t been paying attention. As soon as George walks in through those doors, he jumps up and down. “Hey. Top five!”

“That’s my boy!”

You feel like a creep watching them kiss with sweet emotion you can’t help but miss and crave. Your eyes flicker over to the flat screen T.V. and you’re shooting up from your seat. “Shit! I have to go!”

He’s in the middle of a speech of some sort when you rush in gasping for air. Sheepishly, you wave, then scoot closer to Zak who gives you a quick side hug. Everyone claps and then he’s making his way to—

Not you.

First it’s Zak, then he squeezes by. Then it’s his entire team. Then it’s Oscar. Then it’s Carlos, which is the last straw because he’s not even supposed to be here. “Mind if I squeeze in?” you squeak. The Spaniard shakes his head.

“Be my guest. I should leave anyway.” “Are you sure?” Lando quips. “Why don’t you stay?”

Brown pity eyes dance over to where you look down, then settle with a wobbly smile. “I, um…I actually have a few emails to respond to. Stay, Carlos.” It’s pathetic and embarrassing how he’s the only one who convinces you to stick around. Not even your own boyfriend. Though his hand remains by your side, it feels all for show, which it is because as soon as a few fans take a couple of pictures of you two, he finally retreats his arm.

Once the Ferrari driver finally jogs away, Lando turns to face you. “Where were you?”

“I was watching the race.” Your heart beats faster.

“Liar. Your lips just did the thing.” A halt. “What thing?”

“There! There it is again! You didn’t watch it, did you?”

Taking his palms into your own, you kiss them, feverishly. “I was, but then Carmen came over, and we started to talk, and then one thing led to another and…” Blue eyes stare down, empty. You grimace. “I’m so sorry, Lando. You got second place and I wasn’t there to celebrate. I’m so sorry.”

And perhaps he feels he already made you suffer enough with his ignorance, or maybe he was still high off his accomplishment, but it surprises you when he leans down to peck your forehead. “Just don’t let it happen again, yeah?”

You let out a breath of relief. “Pinky swear.”

He laughs, ruffling your hair. “Ah, see, I don’t believe in pinky promises.”

“Take my word for it then.”

He winks. “Good enough.”

I can’t believe we haven’t had a sunny day in weeks! Flipping over to face him, you pout. Weeks! That’s bonkers.

The Brit hums against his blankets, against you. It’s officially been a year since you two have been dating and it honestly felt surreal. Especially in moments like these. The kind where he was just yours.

I tried to warn you.

You groan, pressing your cheek against his firm chest. His heartbeat is slow and steady, indicating he’s half asleep, indicating you were too awake. Indicating you should probably go to sleep, too.

Guess I’ll just have to learn to live with it.

Guess so.

You know…I sort of love it.

You say so because you haven’t lived here your whole life.

I could easily, you want to confess. If it’s with you, then yes, I can. But it’s too soon and you don’t want to scare him off. Not when things were a dream. Cloudy, sunny, rainy, sunshine—I don’t care. I have a good enough reason to stay.

He vibrates due to his chuckle and you giggle due to his chuckle. Look at you being all cute.

Not trying to be cute, just speaking my truth.

In one motion, he flips over you, hovering. You love it? Like truly?

I love it. I truly love it.

Make me believe it.

Are my words not enough?

He grins, eyes crinkling. I’m more of a pinky promise type of guy.

You lift your small finger and he’s fast to wrap his own around it. Pinky swear. I love you and London.

And it was true. It was true for a while.

It all came crashing down on you, really. It was alarming, yet you had expected it. It was lonely, but survivable. It came in phases. You first noticed the doubt a bit after your third year anniversary, but no, he loves me. I know he does.

But you were good at pushing it all away; far, far, and further. Until you couldn't think about it anymore, even if you tried. His acts were a suck punch, though. Everytime you started to heal and stand up, he only sent a new one. A stronger one. But, hey, no—he loves me. He only says it every night.

Like last Monday night. When he fucked you in his hotel room.

Or last Thursday. When he went down on you under the table.

Or Friday. When you sucked his cock in the shower.

All right before bed.

God, I fucking love you so much. Hot cum shoots down your throat and he groans like a madman. Love you so, so much. You can’t even begin to imagine.

So, when your friends ask and check up on you, that's what you say. Yes, he reminds me everyday. He means it. Don’t worry, we’re doing better than ever.

The second comes in like a slap to the face. He had just done what you consider a low blow, but no—he’ll make up for it. He always does.

“Bullshit.” You blink your hot tears away. Carmen never—ever—curses. She’s too classy for any of that, so it’s almost funny to hear it now. But it’s not, not really. She sighs, rubbing her temples. You and your problems were stressing her out, God, how could you be so selfish?

“Forget I said anything. I’m being a fucking crybaby—”

“No. You’re not.” It seems like she’s choosing her choice of words, delicately. “You have every right to be upset. Every. Single. Right.”

And for the first time in a while, you feel completely seen. Heard. Understood. And that was a lot, but it must have been what you needed, because suddenly, you were spilling the ugly truth. The reason why you didn’t attend the last race. Or the one before that one.

The reason why she and George found you clutching onto your chest that night in Vegas. Forgot my keys, you giggled. You two have fun! Don’t worry about me.

Carmen is older, wiser, and so fucking mature. You love it. But you hate it because now that you sit here with more of an open mind and less defense, you blink like a lost kid at the grocery store. “You love him.”

A whimper. “I adore him.”

“A lot?”

“Infinitely.”

“But?”

Another whimper, louder this time, more wet. “He makes me sad sometimes. Is that normal?” “It is—” And it’s the delusion that always makes you stay. You’re quick to swallow it down, eager and fast. It’s all you need to hear. Carmen shakes her head. “But not to this extent. You get sad over them forgetting your favorite drink order, or when they forget to pack your heels.” An unwanted pause. The kind that gives you the room to overthink. “Not because they locked you out. Or because they forgot your anniversary.”

And she won’t admit—not when you were already so broken—but Lando hadn’t forgotten.

She likes wine, fuck, she’s obsessed with that sparkly shit. Wine testing! We could go wine tasting and I could do it there. He twidles with the ring box. Is that good?

George raises a playful brow before releasing a laugh. It sounds great. As long as you have a nice place to take Instagram pictures, then you’re set to go. Chicks love that. Isn’t that right, love?

But she pinches her lips, forcing a smile to the younger Brit. Lando lets out a shaky breath. It’s about to be our four year anniversary—it’ll be perfect. I’ll make sure.

So, yes, she knows he loves you. But that still doesn’t make the way he treats you right. What kind of love was that? Sobbing loudly, you push your hair back. “But you don’t get it! When he’s good…” Her eyes soften and yours grows more glassy. “...he’s so good.”

“Is it worth the pain, though?”

The third one is the breaking point you had been avoiding for so long. The day started out gray, either way, and not just because of the dark London weather. Dragging your feet to the end of the bed, you tremble. You got the call at four a.m. and those are never good, so why were you shocked to hear from Benny’s son?

“Oh, baby…” He pulls you atop his lap, kissing your temple. “I know how much he meant to you.”

“I still owe him a surfboard. The expensive kind, too.” He quirks a confused brow, but you continue staring off into space. “They stole the last one. The one he always lent to me. His mom had gifted it to him.”

“When did this happen?” he questions, trying to keep you talking because that sounds like a good idea. To get your mind off things.

You hum. “Last January; his birthday weekend.”

“Birthday weekend? I don’t recall—” “You weren’t there.” He doesn’t have to remember to know that’s true. It's become a habit of his nowadays and now he’s feeling guilty. Another hum, this time sadder than the prior. “He was going to teach you how to grill steak, just the way I like it.”

His stomach churns. “And how do you like it?” A beat. “I don’t remember. Ask Benny.” Then you’re crying like a newborn.Worse, actually. But he holds you through it all. So maybe this was do-able. He was nice, after all. You could stick with him forever and you’d be grateful. After what seems like a decade, you finally calm down, though your nose keeps runny. “The funeral is later this week. Are we going?” You were, with no fucking doubt, but you just wanted him to say it. There— on the tip of his tongue. You can spot it and he could taste it.

“Sweetheart…you know I have a race.” You didn’t expect him to drop everything and venture off with you, but this cut deep. Still, you understood. Plus, the proposal was ditched the moment you got the eerie call. So, yes, everything was unbalanced, but it wasn’t your guys’ fault. It was just a twist of fate. Nothing you couldn’t handle; you’ve dealt with worse.

“Right. I can go by myself.” He feels bad—you know he does—but anything, really? “You can write a letter, maybe? Just a couple of words for his family. I know it’ll mean a lot.”

He chuckles. And you should have known at that very moment because it wasn’t one you’ve heard before. “Why would I? I barely even knew the guy.”

“Excuse me?”

The Brit continues tracing shapes onto your thigh. “I’m just saying! It sounds a bit weird coming from someone who spoke to him once. Twice at best.”

And you’re no longer dazed, no longer confused, no longer heartbroken.

You’re just angry.

Pushing yourself off him, you glare coldly. “Barely even knew…the guy? We Skyped with him over dinner! You paid his bills! You fucking attended his sons wedding! How could you be so…fucked.”

“Sure… He was a sweet lad, but do you really think they want to hear from me?”

“Maybe not, maybe they don’t give a flying fuck, but I do. Remind me why I loved you!”

He’s up now. His heart quickens, pierces through his skin. “Loved?”

You sigh, clutching your chest. “Love. I said love.”

A huff. “No, you definitely spoke in past tense—do you not love me anymore?”

“Lando…” “No. Just be upfront with me, I can handle it. Tell me now so I don’t waste my time any longer.”

Every uncertainty you ever had, every word of advice Carmen has given you comes crashing down. She was right. He’s keeping you around for good fun. For his benefit. “Your time? What about mine? You’re the one who’s been blocking me out these past couple months!” “That’s not true—”

“Fuck, you’re right—this past year. God Lando! Haven’t you noticed how good I am at apologizing now? My zombie appearance? You left me out in the hallway! All because of what? Because I didn’t tell you I was going out with the girls?” A sour laugh. “Wake up—it’s 2024. Since when are you a shitty masochist?”

His jaw clenched. “I was worried about you! It was fucking Vegas, what was I supposed to do? And for the love of God, this again. I. Didn’t. Hear. You. Knock.”

A peach seed forms onto your chin. Skin is flushed and tears stream down your face. But he’s fine. He’s tall and firm Hard headed. Without an ounce of regret. And you want to do it. You want to make him feel what you’ve felt.

“I got my degree…”

“Woo-fucking-hoo, we’re not talking about that right now.”

“I lived a few good years, filled with pure happiness.”

He pauses.

“But I see it now. Past all the gray clouds, I see it.” He can feel it coming and he’s desperate for you not to say it aloud, but you shrug it, face downward. “Nothing is holding me back to stay.”

His tone washes away like the Laguna waves as he gets closer to you, cradling your face. “Yes. Yes you do. You have me…”

“Lando, quit lying—I haven’t for a while now. I was just a trophy you didn’t want. One you got bored of.”

“That’s not—” “True?” A beat. “It is. And you know what also is? I don’t love you anymore.” The light in his eyes gave out, pitch black. He feels as if he’s going into cardiac arrest and you…you look at ease. Peaceful. Free. With a soft smile, you push his hands down. “I don’t think you love me anymore, either.”

“Don’t say that,” he pleads. “Please, don’t say that. Of course I love you.” Rushing over to his nightstand, he pulls out a box you only ever dreamt of. “You want proof—here! Take it! It’s yours anyways.”

“Where was this a year ago?” Opening the velvet box, you’re left with an inaudible gasp because of course it was gorgeous. And he feels a gist of hope when you place it onto your ring finger, but he slowly pales when it doesn’t fit.

“No. No. That’s your size. I know it is.” He takes it from you, analyzing it in an accusing manner. “I swear it was, I pinky…” The heater kicks on. “I swear.”

“It’s alright. This is the right ring…just not for me.” It shouldn’t affect you to see his cheeks grow splotchy, to hear his voice tremble like a kid who just skinned his knee against the pavement. But he was once your other half, so it does.

“I don’t want you to go…”

“I don’t either. I loved being here.”

“Then stay.” You purse your lips, then scrunch your nose. “It doesn’t love me, though. And I can’t go unwanted.”

If we start saving enough money then we could buy the house—you know—the one close enough to drive to your parents? Sweet, no?

Won’t they hear us fuck?

Ew, gross. No. I’d tape your mouth before I let that happen. You pinch his ear. This is your home.

And SoCal is yours, so why don’t we move there?

Because I don’t want to. I want to be with you and the people you love, in the place you love. Because I love you and I love the people you love, and I love London.

You’re quite literally perfect. I hope you know.

You make it clear everyday.

And I won’t ever stop. Because you deserve to know.

“This place is cold, the way you said it was. This place is gloomy, the way you said it was. But this place isn’t a home to me anymore…the way I once thought it was.”

Should he have been more careful—more caring—then he wouldn’t be here. This wouldn’t be happening, but it is. And it’s no one’s fault but his.

Sniffing, you rub your swollen eyes. “I’m going to pack my things and go to Benny’s funeral.” It's a declaration. He nods, attentively. “And I’m not coming back. Is that okay?”

No. It wasn’t okay. You’re tearing him in half, you’re stabbing his heart over and over again. You’re telling the truth and putting yourself first. Something he was awful at doing. What brought you two to this very moment in time.

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I treated you the way I did.” I love you. “But if that’s your decision, then go on. Do what you need to do.” I love you.

“Good.” I love you. But I can’t say it aloud if not I’d stay forever.

You smile and he smiles back.

“Good.”

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honeyedmiller · 2 months

Text

The Hills | Joel Miller

pairing: actor!joel x f!reader

rating: 18+, minors do not interact.

warnings: no outbreak!joel, joel miller au, use of marijuana (reader gets high and joel takes a hit), alcohol consumption, enemies to not-so-much-enemies, joel is on his freak shit in this one, smut (fingering, ass play, cum eating, rimming, unprotected piv, spitting, m & f oral receiving, consensual choking and breath play), reader is lowkey a brat but joel is also an ass, joel’s twitchy palm™, two (2) ass slaps, reader is described to be wearing a dress and heels, mentions of usage of cocaine (non-descriptive and it’s neither reader or joel using—just had to add the warning), no use of y/n. if there’s anything that i missed, please lmk.

word count: 6.1k

synopsis: drugs. sex. fame. joel miller—the very man you despise. something about hollywood or other. it all seems to become a blurred line when you get invited to an oscars after party at a house in the hills.

a/n: shoutout to @joelsgreys for keeping eyes on this for me, for beta’ing, for letting me rant about this continuously in our texts, etc etc. ily

Hollywood: the definition of glitz and glamor, celebrities galore, and wild parties.

Right?

Sort of.

You’d been to these afterparties before—chaos, laughter, and drunk or high celebrities every which way. The afterparties that showed the real side of Hollywood’s favorite people. The afterparties where secretive sex ensues in a hidden room tucked in the back of the mansion. The afterparties where people let loose, had fun, and celebrated their wins, or the wins of their friends.

That’s exactly why you were here. This particular multi-million dollar home was chalk-full of familiar famous faces that would get absolutely trashed without the public knowing a single thing about their rendezvous, celebrating each other’s wins.

It was like an unspoken rule amongst all the attendees: what happens at the after party, stays at the after party.

Tess Servopoulos, a well-known actress, was your best friend. She always invited you to the award shows when she could, and made sure you were invited to the afterparties. In this case, it was the after party for The Oscars, where her other best friend was celebrating his wins tonight, taking home three Oscars just hours prior.

And it’s funny, because to you, the devil wasn’t down in Georgia. He was in fucking Los Angeles, California, and his name is Joel Miller.

Arrogant, conceited, and a complete asshole as far as you were concerned. You’d never had a good interaction with the man, always seeming to have targeted hatred toward you for no particular reason.

So you hated him right back.

Because, honestly, who the fuck did he think he was?

You didn’t give two shits if he was an A-lister. Good for him. His arrogance and asshole-ish nature was enough to make you roll your eyes at the mere sight of him. He was one of those people that everybody seemed to absolutely adore, thinking he was doing everyone a solid favor just by being in their presence.

And you think, the fuck does it matter anyway? Your opinion of one man in a room full of elites is about as relevant as a speck of fucking dirt on the bottom of some Louboutins.

You inwardly sighed and drank from the champagne flute that was placed in your hand once you maneuvered your way into the house. Tess dragged you along to say hello to people you’ve met before, and introduced you to those you hadn’t. Most of them were fairly nice, some remembering you from previous parties or recognizing you in god-awful candid shots that paparazzi took of you when you were with Tess.

Tabloids were always a funny thing. There were multiple times where you’d see a photo of yourself in public with Tess, plastered in some stupid celebrity magazine claiming you were her ‘mystery lover.’ Or, there were the times where they’d call you a gold digger; someone who wanted fifteen minutes of fame and all the “luxuries” that came with being acquainted with a celebrity.

You always had a good laugh with Tess about them, and she’d tell you that one day she’d share the story behind you: a college roommate who was her total opposite, but it worked. You were there from the beginning—she’d get casted in parts for commercials, then extras for TV shows, and then bigger roles like a supporting character, and eventually the lead character in many blockbuster hits.

You were her biggest supporter, there for her through her wins and losses. She was truly your platonic soulmate, and you, hers.

You always plastered a smile on your face when making your rounds at these things. Got a little star-struck here and there, but you kept your cool. Celebrities are human beings, after all.

The party was in full swing, people plastered and laughing loudly over the thumping music. Sometimes you thought these parties got a little ridiculous, but you knew this was a rare occasion where these people—faces of the public, under a watchful eye of millions of adoring fans and the scrutinizing media—got the chance to loosen up and be their real selves.

You swirled the champagne around your flute, babysitting the same glass from when you first walked into this party. You leaned against a crisp white wall adorned with what you were sure were very expensive paintings, observing the crowd before you.

The familiarity that drifted through the room was almost unsettling for you. Friends with arms slung over each other’s shoulders, casual and comfortable conversation—and then there was you, who didn’t really know anyone but Tess. She didn’t want to leave your side, but she’d gotten pulled every which way for a conversation and you didn’t want to ride her coattail all night, so you told her you’d get yourself another drink, maybe.

And you were going to, but then the room felt a little too warm. So, naturally, you ventured down another long hallway adorned with paintings and expensive side tables with vases that held fresh flowers that probably cost more than you’d ever see in your lifetime.

Your heels clicked rhythmically against the marble flooring as you made your way to two French double doors that led out to a balcony that was unoccupied.

Perfect.

You opened the doors and sucked in a huge breath of air, admiring the lights gleaming throughout the whole of Los Angeles as far as you could see.

And then you wondered, with every house and apartment and business that was illuminated with a soft yellow light, what each individual occupying these spaces stories were.

People that weren’t famous. People that had regular nine-to-five jobs. People who were desperately trying to make ends meet. People like you, you think.

You loved Tess to death. You’d do anything and everything for her, but Hollywood was secretly a massive headache.

You sighed as you tore your eyes away from the soft lights, opening your clutch to find the joint you brought. Just something to take the edge off and ease the fucking nerves that started coursing through you, unwanted and untimely.

You fished the pre-roll and lighter out of your bag, flicking the lighter on in multiple attempts, but no avail.

You groaned as you kept trying, but the realization that your lighter was done for had swept over you quickly.

“Son of a bitch.” You mutter with a heavy sigh.

“Need a light?” A deep voice asked from behind. A familiar voice. A voice with Southern twang that supposedly charmed every person that was blessed to hear it. A voice you couldn’t fucking stand.

You look over your shoulder to see Joel Miller in the flesh, clad in a crisp white button-down with the top two buttons unbuttoned, exposing his tan chest. The shirt was tucked into some black slacks, accompanied by shiny black shoes.

You hated to admit that he looked good. Real good. But you wouldn’t ever dare to admit that out loud, even with a gun to your head.

“No.” You said, turning back around. His footsteps become closer, and you roll your eyes before you have to restrain yourself from physically shuddering at the proximity between you two.

“Stop bein’ a brat and jus’ take the goddamn light.” Joel rolls his eyes, and you turn to face him. He’s next to you now, leaning against the balcony while holding up a lighter.

You eye him conspicuously, and he looks annoyed as he flicks the lighter on and off. You grit your teeth before slotting the joint between your fingers, bringing it up to your lips.

He easily flicks his lighter on once more, bringing the flame to the end of the joint. The small flame illuminates the space between your bodies, and he looks good with the soft orange glow against his tan skin, you think.

The end of the joint crackles and you inhale deeply, turning your body toward the lights of the city once more.

You blow out the smoke slowly, tilting your head to the side. “Thanks,” You mutter.

“Hm,” He hums, “Would ya look at that. Not that hard to use your manners now, ain’t it?”

“Shut up, Joel. Christ.” You rub your forehead with your thumb, eyebrows pinching together. You came out here for some peace, not to be annoyed and antagonized by the very man you couldn’t stand.

“Hey, I jus’ did ya a favor. No need for that fuckin’ attitude of yours.”

“Jesus fuck, Joel, do you not have anything better to do? Shouldn’t you be fucking one of your whores by now or snorting coke in the bathroom with another beloved A-lister?” You roll your eyes and take another hit.

Joel didn’t like that one bit. He took a step forward, broad body hard to ignore with the heat radiating off of him. Your eyes trail up his chest and to his face, which was contorted with pure anger.

“Who the fuck do you think you are talkin’ to me like that? You’re pissin’ off the wrong person, doll.” Joel’s voice is gruff, full of patience that was smaller than a piece of thread at this point.

“I don’t need to bow down to you just because you’re famous, asshole. You’re the one who’s had the problem with me from the beginning. I only reciprocate the energy I receive, so you can fuck all the way off with the superiority complex you think you have over me.”

“Why the fuck are you here anyway? Hollywood ain’t a place for naïve girls like you.” Joel quirks his harsh brow at you, like he’s challenging you.

Motherfucker.

“And who said I was naïve, cowboy? You don’t know a damn thing about me.”

“I know that you’re annoyin’ and don’t fuckin’ belong here. God knows what Tess sees in you as a friend n’ why she keeps invitin’ you to these things.”

Your blood ran hot as you stared at the man in front of you. His jaw was set in a hard line, clenching his teeth every so often in pure annoyance as he looked at you with utter hatred and disgust.

“I may not belong in Hollywood, Miller, but at least my fucking morals are right and I don’t pull bitch moves like abandoning my friends when they need me the most.”

You were infuriated and quite frankly so fucking sick of this man berating you when he should be the last person on this green fucking Earth to talk. It was a low blow, your last comment to him, but what kind of a friend was he to choose a woman he was so pussywhipped over instead of being there for Tess when she was going through a rough time?

It broke your heart to see her so upset that Joel chose another woman he barely knew over her, icing her out when she’d been nothing but a good friend to him. She forgave him, of course, after he’d apologized to her months later.

She had a kinder heart than you would’ve at the situation. You don’t think you could ever forgive somebody for that.

You already thought Joel was an arrogant asshole before that even happened, but that situation was the last nail in the coffin to confirm that he’s exactly the person you thought he was.

“I apologized to her. We’re good now.” Joel’s harsh stare never wavered, but the annoyance in his tone did. He almost sounded…sad.

“Yeah. Whatever.” You roll your eyes, flicking the ash off of the end of the joint before taking another hit. Your mind was already starting to become hazy, and the proximity between you and Joel was starting to make your head spin.

Your gaze flickered up to his face once more, brown eyes still locked on you. You furrow your brows, but before you can speak, Joel plucks the joint from your fingers. He puts the filter up to his lips and deeply inhales, and you frown.

“Get your own recreational drugs, asshole.” You mutter, arms crossing over your chest. Joel’s eyes trail down to your chest before moving back up to yours. A small smirk evades his lips, and he blows the smoke into your face.

“You’re such a fuckin’ brat.”

“Fuck you gonna do? Spank me for not thinking you’re all high and mighty and shit?” The frown is permanent on your face as you assess him, not realizing the impact that your words had on him.

His cock stirred in his slacks at the thought of that.

He stubs out the half-finished joint before handing it back to you. You tuck it away in your purse before looking at him again, carefully studying him.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He’s got a knowing look on his face, and you have to force yourself to feign disgust.

Because, goddammit, you probably would. You’d probably be all over him if he wasn’t such a fucking asshole. The rage you’ve targeted toward him has made you see past his rugged looks and charm, the broadness of him and the veins that protrude from his hands to his forearms and—

You’ve wondered briefly what it’d be like to succumb to it. To be like every single other person who melts for him like lava seeping into the deepest cracks of the Earth. Untouchable. Destructive. And yet, a beautiful aftermath.

“Think I’ll take that as a yes.” His laugh rumbles from deep within his sturdy chest. For a moment he looks so carefree, so light and happy while he laughs. It might’ve been at your own expense, but for the slightest second, you saw through the harsh stares and the hateful demeanor.

“Fuck you, Miller.”

His mouth snapped shut and his harsh gaze settled on you again. His nostrils flared as he glared at you, a heat behind his eyes you’ve never seen before. His palm twitches at his side and he opens his mouth to say something argumentative, but closes it after a second.

Before you know it, he wraps his hand around your forearm, dragging you behind him.

You nearly trip over your heels as you try to keep up with him, wriggling in his strong grasp. He wouldn’t let up.

“Let go of me you asshole!” You seethe, but he pushes you into a room—tucked at the back of the mansion—secluded from everyone else. Oh.

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

You quickly realized you were in for it when he shut the door and locked it. Nerves buzzed in your veins and you inhaled a shaky breath.

He looked like he was some sort of predator stalking its prey with the way his eyes scanned your body as he moved around to the other side of the room.

“Real fuckin’ sick of your attitude.” He starts. You scoff at him and throw your arms up.

“Wouldn’t have to deal with it if you just left me the fuck alone in the first place.” You cross your arms over your chest once more, and Joel takes two large strides toward you before he’s standing so close that you can smell the whiskey and weed on his breath.

“N’ that’s the problem, darlin’, I can’t leave you alone. Been wanting to fuck that attitude right outta you since the first day we met.”

You swear your heart drops into your ass. “Wh-what?” Your eyes are wide as he walks forward, forcing you to move backwards until the backs of your knees hit the king-sized bed.

You didn’t even notice there was a bed in the room because the very man before you was insanely distracting.

“You heard me. You’re a brat, baby, n’ brats deserve to be punished.”

You swallow hard as a fire burns behind his eyes, mischievous and daring.

“Joel—”

“Turn around.”

You don’t even think twice before listening to his demand, turning around so you face the bed.

“Can’t hate me that much if you’re an obedient little thing for me, hm?” The amusement was oozing from his Southern drawl.

Your first instinct was to argue with him, but deep down you knew he was right. Maybe all the hatred you had for him had a little bit of desire sprinkled deep down in the depths of your core, unexplored and completely disregarded.

The thought of his hands on you excited you. You saw the way he touched women in the movies he was in. Regardless if it was just acting or not, you always ended up aroused after Tess would force you to watch any movie of his—especially the ones with erotica. She would tease you about not liking him, unknowing of the true abhorrence that stirred in your body. He was her best friend too, so you had to be cordial to him around her for her sake.

You tried to ignore him altogether, but where it got you now—pressed up against the bed as his large hands landed onto your body to tightly grip your hips—didn’t seem to pan out so well.

“Will you let me touch you?” His voice has a rough edge to it, the teasing long gone as he stares at your figure from behind.

“Yes.” You whisper.

He doesn’t say another word as his calloused hands slide around your thighs and to the front of your body. He presses himself against you, and the warmth he radiates off of his body alone makes you sigh.

He’s so sturdy and strong, just as you imagined him to be. You could feel his cock hardening against the plump of your ass, and you wiggle in the slightest to tease him.

He inhales sharply, one hand sliding underneath the hem of your dress while the other hand splayed out onto your stomach.

The skimpy panties you had on did a terrible job at keeping your arousal strictly within the confines of the lace fabric. The apex of your thighs was smeared with the neediness you refused to address, now completely on display for the man it was all for.

Joel’s hand skimmed your inner thighs, chuckling darkly as he traced the outline of your pussy with his thumb through the fabric.

You tried your hardest to hold back a moan, really. You fucking tried. As soon as the sound bubbled in your throat and glided past your lips, you could feel Joel’s smile in victory. He was always playing chess while you were playing checkers.

Well, check fucking mate for him.

“Didn’t know I got ya this excited, baby.” He grips the hem of your panties, sliding them down your legs. You step out of them and he immediately pockets them.

“You wouldn’t be the first.” You mumble, not wanting to feed into his already huge ego.

“Oh I’m sure I’m not,” He starts, breath hot on your neck. “Doesn’t mean I won’t ruin every other fuckin’ man for you. Bend over.”

You clench around nothing at his words, deciding that staying silent is better than digging yourself deeper into your own fucking grave.

You do as he says and bend over the bed, cheek resting against the soft silk sheets.

“‘M gonna fuckin’ make sure I’m all you think about after this. Fuck yourself with your fingers to flashbacks of tonight. Moanin’ my fuckin’ name all alone in your house, wishing I was there to take care of you instead. Fuckin’ brat.”

His words sound like a simultaneous threat and promise, but you just had to say something. You couldn’t let him completely have this without giving him some kind of shit.

“Oh please, I bet I’ll forget as soon as we walk out of this room. You’ve probably got a small dick anyway.”

And you know that isn’t true. He’s huge, and you know he’ll never let you forget about tonight.

A sharp sting blooms onto one of your asscheeks, the sound of him smacking your flesh reverberating off of the walls of the bedroom. You moan at the delicious pain.

“You n’ I both know that ain’t true, doll. Enough with that fuckin’ mouth of yours. Could put it to better use than talkin’ all that shit.”

His hands knead the flesh of your ass, spreading your cheeks apart to get a good look at all of you. You almost feel embarrassed, but decide not to get into your head too much about it because all you want him to do is fucking touch you where you need him the most.

Your core was aching. You were almost ready to put your pride aside and fucking beg him to touch you. Almost.

You were about to give in when you heard him shuffle behind you, and you craned your neck to see Joel drop onto his knees behind you.

His eyes locked with yours as he gave you a smirk before leaning forward to bite your ass. You let out a small yelp, and his hand was quick to soothe the pain.

“Gonna fuckin’ set you right once n’ for all.”

And he brings a hand up to your core, sliding his middle and ring finger through your dripping folds. You whimper softly at the sensation, a small flood of relief coursing through your veins. But it wasn’t enough. You needed more.

Your hips start to rock involuntarily, and Joel tsks at you.

“Greedy fuckin’ whore, aren’t ya? Patience is a virtue, baby.” He chides.

“Goddamnit Joel.” Your voice sounds breathy, even to your own surprise.

Suddenly, Joel slips his two fingers into you, and your hands fly out to grip the sheets beneath you. Your eyebrows furrow together and relish in the feeling of his thick fingers scissoring in and out of your aching cunt.

“So fuckin’ wet already. ‘F I woulda known I did this to ya…” He chuckles, working his fingers in and out of you expertly.

He leans forward and licks up your folds, swirling his tongue around your clit. You can’t help the strangled moan that leaves your mouth, and you can just feel Joel’s cocky ass smirk.

He continues lapping up your arousal, more dripping out around his fingers and down to his wrist. It'd been awhile since anyone touched you like this, so you presume you were extra turned on because of that reason.

You didn’t want to give all the credit to Joel.

His tongue slid up and he removed his fingers from you, replacing them with his tongue as he prodded it into your entrance and fucked you with it.

You were already a moaning mess, like you were on cloud nine with the way he was making you feel. He gripped both of your cheeks and spread them further for his own leisure, tongue dragging upward until it met your asshole.

“Holy fuck, Joel—” You choke out, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he swirls his tongue around the tight ring. Your heart is thrumming in your chest and your pussy clenches around nothing.

Joel lowly moaned around you, the vibrations shooting straight up your spine.

You don’t know how long he’s doing this for—your mind is still hazy from the high you’ve been riding, pleasure wrapped around every single inch of your body. You lose track of time and immerse yourself in how he’s making you feel.

Joel pulls himself away from you, sliding both of his fingers back into you. This time, though, he teases your other hole with the tip of his pinky.

“You ever let anyone fuck this pretty ass of yours with their fingers?”

“Please.” Was all you could squeak out, because while you didn’t want to admit you never have, you were willing to give it a go. It was obvious he knew what he was doing, and if you didn’t like the way something felt, you’d just tell him.

He spits onto your asshole before grunting, “Relax.”

And you do. He slides his pinky into your puckered hole, and fuck you feel so full with him like this. He works his three fingers in and out of you slowly at first, each move calculated and precise.

He may’ve been an asshole, but he at least wanted to make sure you were comfortable.

He picks up the pace of his fingers after he’s sure you can handle it, and the feeling of pleasure seizes your body as you shake underneath him.

It’s too much and not enough all at once. You can feel your orgasm rapidly building building building, the coil wound so tight that your stomach constricts in plea of release.

“Fuckfuckfuck, Joel I’m gonna—oh fuck!”

And you’re literally gushing around his fingers. He prolongs your orgasm as long as he can. You think he’s saying things like there you go, that’s it, but you can hardly pay attention over the loud ringing in your ears as you try and come down from your Earth-shattering orgasm.

He slips his fingers out of you slowly, watching your body convulse sporadically from the aftermath of it all.

He grabs your body and flips you around so you’re laying at the edge of the bed. The fluorescent lights are blinding as you try and look at his face. You blink rapidly, chest heaving up and down as you try your damndest to find your bearings once more.

He’s unfastening the button on his slacks, and all you can hear is the rustle of the fabric and the thumping music outside of the locked door.

You wondered briefly if anyone—Tess, specifically—was looking for the two of you. You’d be mortified if she found you like this, but Joel was smart enough to lock the doors.

You were so lost in thought that you hadn’t even noticed he was pulling down his underwear, so when you looked back at him you gasped when you saw his stiff, aching length. Your hunch was correct—he was huge. His tip was red, smeared with precome and just begging to be taken care of.

If there was any time in your life to impress Joel Miller, now was your chance. You sit up on your knees and lower your head, looking up at him through your lashes, your mouth inches away from his tip.

The muscle in his jaw ticked furiously, brown eyes watching you meticulously. You gave him a small, cocky smirk before you leaned forward and wrapped your lips around his tip, eyes fluttering shut at the salty taste. You use one hand to steady yourself onto the bed, and the other to wrap around his length as you start to pump him slowly.

He inhales sharply, holding back a groan as you undoubtedly start to please him.

You set a steady rhythm between your hand and mouth. The wet sounds are obscene and nearly pornographic. A part of you wishes this was being recorded so you’d have something to watch back when you needed to get yourself off.

Greed is a tragedy, and tragic you were in this moment.

Joel’s hand flies to the back of your head, cradling it as you remove your hand and slide your lips as far down his shaft as your mouth would allow. The head of his cock hit the back of your throat, and as much as you were salivating, you swallowed around him.

The tip of your nose barely made contact with the wiry hairs at the base of his cock, and Joel let out the most guttural groan you’d ever heard.

“Filthy fuckin’ mouth, baby. Goddamn. Knew it could be put to better use than you—ngh—spewin’ that fuckin’ attitude.”

You hum around him, bobbing your head up and down his length. His pants were getting more rapid and he was becoming more vocal, grunting fuck and filthy, filthy girl.

“Shit, yeah, just like that doll. Just. Like. That.” Joel’s voice is hoarse behind his clenched teeth. If you didn’t know any better, he’d probably shatter his teeth with how hard he was clenching them.

And you don’t let up. Not even after a string of curses spills past his lips, and definitely not after he groans so loudly that it vibrates through his whole body as ropes of his come spill down your throat.

You’re in overstimulation territory, and he’s falling apart at the seams.

He pulls your head off of his length as he tries to catch his breath, sweat beading at his temples.

“Fuckin’ christ.” He breathes, squeezing his eyes shut before looking at you again.

“Didn’t know I would be so good at that now, did you?” You tease, and the corner of his mouth twitches into a snarl.

“Shut the fuck up.” He says, and you laugh. He grabs your hips suddenly, flipping you around once more so you’re on all fours for him again.

“‘M’keepin’ my promise. Gonna fuck that attitude straight outta your goddamn brain.” His tone is serious, and you’re beginning to think he really isn’t fucking around.

You hear him pump himself a few times and you think about the dangerous threshold you’re about to cross with him. Would you regret it after? Would he?

It was like you were both taking a bite of forbidden fruit, specially picked from the Garden of Eden.

Fuck it. There’s worse things you can do.

“You on any birth control?” He asks, and you nod.

“IUD.”

“Good.” He says before sliding the head of his cock through your folds. Your body jerks when it catches your clit, still sensitive from your previous orgasm.

Without another word, Joel pushes into you and you stretch around him deliciously. It’s like your body was begging for him to be inside you at this point.

“Fuuuck.” Joel groans, gripping your hips so tightly they’d probably be bruised by tomorrow.

You bite your lip to keep from screaming, because he’s the biggest you’ve ever had and the sting won’t go away.

“Move, Joel.” You plead, and he smacks your ass once again, making you flutter around his cock.

“Fuck did I say about patience? Christ, woman.”

You shut your eyes as you feel him become fully erect inside you, and you’re seriously going to cry if he doesn’t move soon.

Almost as if he’d read your mind, he started to thrust his hips slowly. It didn’t take long for him to set a pace, though, and he was brutally pistoning in and out of you.

“Fucking…. hate… you.” You spit pathetically, holding onto the sheets for dear life. He laughs dryly behind you, mumbling a sure before going even harder.

Your moans were getting louder and louder, and you truthfully couldn’t give two fucks who heard you at this point.

Fucking let them hear.

“Better hush up now, whole house could probably hear you with how loud you’re bein’.” He scolded, and you rolled your eyes.

“Don’t give a fuck,” You squeaked out, “Let them.”

“Attagirl,” His laugh was mischievous, pounding into you even faster than before. “Little fuckin’ whore loves takin’ this cock, hm?”

One of his hands moved up your body, causing chills down your spine and goosebumps to raise onto your skin.

His hand wrapped around your throat, and you moaned at the idea of getting choked out while he fucked you from behind.

One of your hands flew up to his, and he was half expecting you to yank it away. He was pleasantly surprised when you clamped your fingers down around his, silently urging him to squeeze.

And he did. You felt like you were fucking floating.

Joel didn’t let up, even when you felt the burning hot coil wind up in your core once again.

“Feel so fucking good– s–o so fucking— fuck.” You’re a blubbering mess. He pulls your body up so your back is facing his front, never letting his pace waver.

“Fucking you dumb on my cock, aren’t I? Listen to you, baby. Pathetic.” He laughs at you once again, but you don’t have any willpower to fight back. You just let it happen, because each thrust of his cock into you has your body turning into complete fucking mush.

“Close.” Is what you whisper, and Joel can feel your walls tightening around him. He chokes on a moan at the sensation, fingers tightening around your throat even more.

You can barely breathe, but you fucking love it. You love seeing stars cloud your vision like this. The heightened sensation of your orgasm comes crashing down over you, eyes rolling into the back of your head as you silently scream out.

Your body convulses continuously as you try to ride out your orgasm, but Joel’s hand leaves your throat and moves down to your clit to rub at it furiously.

You cry out his name, your hands frantic to find purchase to anything as you try and brace yourself.

It’s no use, though. Your body is limp and your soul fucking escaped from you long ago.

“Where do you want me?” The urgency in his voice is evident, but you’re in such a daze that you barely clock it.

“Inside me.” You manage, and he groans loudly before he lets go, filling you up with everything he has. His body slumps over yours, both of you trying so hard to pull yourselves back to reality.

He slides out of you and you both groan at the loss of being one.

You turn over on your back, once again blinded by the lights. Your eyes flutter close as you assess everything that partook the last—thirty? fourty? you don’t fucking know—minutes of your life.

Your body slowly floats back down to reality, and you peel your eyes open when you hear shuffling. Joel is on his knees again, spreading your legs to look at his handiwork. He looks up at you with that same devilish smirk, licking up his spend from your cunt before hovering over you.

He uses his thumb to coax your jaw open, spitting his spend into your mouth.

“Swallow.” He demands, and you do as he says. You open your mouth to show him you did, and a satisfied look washes over his features.

“Hope you feel me leakin’ out of you all goddamn night, sweetheart.”

You look at him incredulously, reality crashing down with the unwavering truth: you and Joel really fucked.

He was inches away from your face, and for a fleeting moment, you wondered what it would be like if he kissed you. His lips looked so soft.

But that would make it too complicated. It would turn into a thing you didn’t need it to be, and you knew kissing him would make the probability of hating him into a fucking zero.

Get a grip.

But, you catch him. You catch his eyes flicker down to your lips, the same thing probably reeling in his mind, too.

Maybe one wouldn’t hurt.

No. You wouldn’t allow it for yourself. He can take his Southern charm and shove it up his ass.

You cleared your throat and moved to stand up. Your legs were shaky at first, but you found your grounding as you walked over to the mirror on the other side of the room.

You straightened out your appearance, making sure you didn’t have “I just got fucked” plastered across your forehead. Once you were satisfied, you turned around to see Joel sitting on the bed.

You nod at him once, “Joel,” and you’re unlocking the door to be rejoined by the thumping music and loud laughter, leaving him to stare at you as you walked away.

You made your way into the backyard, needing a breath of fresh air after everything that ensued.

“There you are! I was looking all over for you.” Tess pulls you into her side, giving your arm a playful squeeze as she holds you close.

“Yeah, I uh, went to smoke a J.” Which, yes, was of course partially true—but you’d probably never admit to her that you just got done getting your brains fucked out by Joel Miller.

She probably wouldn’t even believe you if you told her, anyway.

It didn’t need to become a thing, even if it was the best sex you’ve ever had in your life.

Sex you’d probably be having flashbacks about years down the line, just as Joel promised.

You groan inwardly, eyes drifting upward to casually scan the backyard. You caught a familiar pair already staring at you from across the way, and your whole body bloomed with aching heat once more.

Those brown eyes were accompanied with a sickening smirk, and two seconds later, a wink.

You knew no matter how hard you tried, and as much as you fucking despised him, it wouldn’t be easy to get him out of your head.

You were so fucked, you think.

The idea of admitting that you maybe didn’t hate him was unwarranted, but you knew deep down it was your reality. You really didn’t hate him.

And maybe, just maybe, these parties weren’t so bad after all.

tags: @ilovepedro @nostalxgic @punkshort @endlessthxxghts

dividers by @saradika-graphics

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller one shot #joel miller imagines #joel miller imagine #joel miller au #actor!joel #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller tlou #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x afab!reader #fic: the hills

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ybklix · 7 days

Text

𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐧

★ lee minho

✦summary: You embark on an unusual night for you, as a companion to a wealthy stranger man with a cold countenance, a warm heart and a very hot form of affection.

✭ content - tags - warnings: smut / oral sex / spanking / hair pulling / chocking / ceo lee know x fem reader / non idol felix x fem reader / mention of sex workers, scort / sugar daddy

word count: 12.3k

Part 2 ᯓ★

(masterlist)

Money did buy happiness, you thought; if it did you would be in your mansion worth millions, you would use your money to buy contacts to get your dream job without having to sweat a drop and you wouldn't be standing there right now listening to the landlady, while she yells at you and reminds you how far behind you are in your payments.

It was humiliating and you had no other excuse to tell her, it was obvious she didn't give a shit how much you studied and worked at the same time and it still wasn't enough. She finally left, insulting you a couple of times and flattering herself for being a good person by letting you stay and giving you a space in a very rushed and busy city like this one, where millions of people are looking for a place to live every day.

You wanted to feel unashamed, carefree but you couldn't do it and everything was a thousand times more embarrassing when you were helping your best friend pack as she was moving to a new and better apartment. You knew Hari since you moved into the building three years ago, she was your neighbor and you were the same age so you two quickly liked each other... but the day had come, she was able to move on and was going to a nice place.

Hari watched the whole scene with a bit of sadness, knowing deep down what it felt like to go through exactly the same thing and hear the same old lady screaming. And, as she took one of her boxes to pass it to the mover she thought if after all this time it would be good to finally confess a secret to you… she was terrified of feeling judged but, she appreciated you too much that she really wanted to tell you.

You sighed without further ado, smiling and turning back to your friend.

“Hey, if you need…” Hari wanted to say but you interrupted her immediately.

“I'm fine, really.”

You stared at her and gave her a fake smile. It wasn't new that you hated asking for help and that people feel sorry for you, first it was your male best friend who stupidly is a millionaire and now your best friend who you were supposed to share economic pains. You felt that everyone was moving forward but you, but you didn't want to be seen as a poor girl in distress, it was what you hated the most even though you appreciate their gestures and words in your heart, despite that it's hard for you to take it, as well as thank them and…. express yourself.

“If you need anything you know you can count on m...?”

“On you and Felix, I know.”

You rolled your eyes trying to appear annoyed but you weren't, it was obvious, they always reminded you. And you were extremely grateful just at the thought that they cared about you. You were aware that one of the very good solutions was simply to start dating your rich best friend who you know likes you… but you weren't like that, unfortunately, you were too proud to accept easy money.

“You should give him a chance” Hari added.

“I think I'm fucked up enough to fall in love and add another worry.”

Felix was sweet, caring, attractive and incredibly wealthy, you met him in college as he was studying cinematography. And you were studying performing arts, actress, your biggest dream. Strangely enough, you and Felix connected instantly in a course where you coincided, and you got along very well forming a nice friendship; he had a big and pure heart and was not at all the typical brainless rich kid, however you were the opposite of him, reserved and a bit pessimistic about life and clearly… in some big and tight economic problems. You couldn't count the countless times Felix offered to help you financially, but you simply felt you were abusing the power of your cute and cuddly best friend.

He would offer you money, he would offer you one of his properties, all paid vacations, you knew it was every girl's dream and that if you told anyone other than Hari about all this, they would be sure to slap you and call you ‘stupid’ to your face. You recognized that he was all a dream come true and that was what you feared the most, that you might be a nightmare for him, your personalities were different and most of all, you felt so bad that you didn't have something to offer him; you felt it looked so wrong to be just him trying so hard even though you were trying twice as hard too and sometimes it seemed in vain.

Moreover, you were quite realistic and recognized well that guys like Felix, wealthy and from a long line of millionaire ancestors, a simple girl like you wasn't enough, and you could never end up with someone like him.

Hari laughed at your comment.

“Love isn't so bad... have you ever been in love?”

You looked at her perplexed, almost wanting to laugh in her face; Hari in love was a concept you didn't know.

“Have you?” you asked, emphasizing your shock.

Your friend just looked at you amused and continued her duty of clearing out her old home. She was nervous, she had a solution for you but wasn't sure if it was an option for you.

After a few hours of exhaustive work like moving your whole life to another place, both of you contemplated the completely empty apartment where you used to spend nights together having sleepovers. Hari sighed, ready to confess something no one else knew.

“Y/n” she spoke to you.

You made a sound indicating you were listening, but you weren't really, you couldn't stop looking at that wall, thinking about what you had to do as soon as possible to get extra money. Hari called your name again until this time she caught your attention, so you turned to look at her; she felt nervousness and wanted to swallow for a second, you furrowed your brow at her sudden strange reaction.

“If I tell you something, promise you won't judge.”

“Of course” you quickly answered without thinking, her behavior seemed odd, but suddenly you were so curious to know.

She looked at you with big eyes of ‘I'm serious’, while you returned the look more than obvious.

“What is it about?”

Hari took a breath, hesitant, and suddenly she had all your attention.

“Have you ever wondered how suddenly I get all this, finally moving, nicer clothes...?” she replied with another question.

You furrowed your brow and tilted your head a bit confused, not meaning to offend, but your friend's life wasn't something you were so concerned about since you saw her completely normal, it wasn't something to be alarmed about, every time you met she was still the same... you wondered if there was suddenly something you didn't notice and that you should feel like a bad friend about.

“Did you get a big promotion at your job...?” you speculated without an answer.

She smiled mockingly.

“There's someone” she finally spat out, unable to express it entirely.

You got excited, those words meant she was dating someone of whom you didn't know details and suddenly it excited you. You raised your eyebrows in surprise and turned your whole body towards her, looking at her straight ahead, enthusiastic.

“Oh my God, Hari, why didn't you...”

“Or something like that” she cut you off abruptly.

Again, you looked at her confused, this time waiting for her to start talking. Hari looked at the floor and finally said:

“I have someone who gives me money.”

Silence embraced you, you didn't know what to say so you just laughed incredulously letting out a little air, Hari quickly looked at you with her expressive eyes of ‘you promised not to judge’, so you hurried to say:

“A sugar daddy or something like that? Well… good for you, I guess.”

“I think you need one” she cut off your sarcastic comment so now you laughed out loud. “Being a companion.”

“No thanks, I have enough dealing with Felix and his specific complex” you scoffed.

“I think you're not getting it… I don't know how to explain it but, I can live my life for 5 years without working a single day.”

You were in denial and totally ready to continue to contradict and mock your friend until that comment caught you by surprise.

“Wow, well that's…” you closed your eyes deeply trying to process the kind of conversation you were having. “I think you're exaggerating a bit here…”

“No” she interrupted you again, “this is different, I think you reject Felix because you know him and… these are just unknown men willing to pay a lot of money.”

“Do you really think you can give that kind of power to a man, of just giving you money without him expecting anything in return?” you added without thinking.

Silence returned… and it was when everything made sense and you understood that Hari did give something in return. You didn't want to say it out loud, but suddenly your best friend was a prostitute; you were really surprised. You couldn't help but open your eyes in surprise. Hari felt the need to explain herself before feeling judged.

“They are really wealthy men, it's something really exclusive and selective, you can choose and…”

You dissociated and stopped listening for a second, did they have methods? What did she mean? Why would she believe in the first place that you would be part of something like that?

“And are you with someone or do you have multiple relationships…?” you interrupted her.

You had no idea why you cared about that, you weren't a saint to judge, but maybe it was just curiosity. Hari rolled her eyes annoyed.

“At first a few until I finally found someone, I’m telling you it's surprising what can happen; so far it's him, he gave me the apartment, he'll decorate it and-”

You closed your eyes again incredulously.

“He bought you the apartment? I thought you rented it.”

“I had to lie.”

“And what happens when your fantasy and money run out?” you said mercilessly.

Hari smiled, you were too honest and straightforward sometimes.

“Well, I don't think that will happen for a long time and… Chan and I reached an agreement that I could work in his company as much as I want, even if our relationship ends and he stops supporting me.”

“Oh, so he has a name and now you're dating.”

“It's complicated, I like him but it's obvious that guys like him don't end up with the poor girl like a a TV show.”

And with a hooker, you thought. At least you were grateful that after all the senseless chatter something with common reasoning came out of your friend's mouth. You really had nothing against what she was doing, it just took you by surprise.

Hari sighed.

“I know you don't believe me, but do you remember that time months ago when we went out to eat and jokingly I showed you the meager ₩50,000 in my bank account?”

You nodded, still perplexed and cautious about what she might show you now. Hari took her phone and in a few swift movements with her fingers, handed it to you, displaying on the screen an incredible amount that made you sigh just seeing it. You couldn't believe it. How was it possible for someone to have so much money? Why would they give it to Hari?

“I think it's dangerous, maybe it's just sex with strangers but in exchange for that ridiculous amount… I don't know, you shouldn't trust strangers like that.”

Hari opened her mouth, offended, as she took her phone back.

“It's not always sex, it's about companionship.”

You pursed your lips, unable to believe it; maybe for old men with erectile dysfunction, you thought, but somehow or another, they are men looking for something.

“I'm just giving you an option to give it a chance. It's a really exclusive app, you even send your data to be accepted; it also comes with details of the people offering money for you, how they are, how much, and you can reject them all, you're in control. Come on, y/n, desperate times call for desperate measures…”

“I wouldn't categorize it that way, no thanks, Hari, I'm not that desperate, and by the way, how did you find out?”

“I went to a party months ago and overheard a couple of unknown girls talking about it, it changed my life” she quickly checked her phone again. “I have to go, he came for me, but think about it, okay? Just out of curiosity, like I did until I saw a really impressive amount. Also, they specify if they want companionship or something more…”

You rolled your eyes annoyed, it was crazy, you thought that Hari could live anonymously but your dream was to be an actress, what were you supposed to do if they ever found out that you practically sold yourself. Both of you left the apartment and stood there in the hallway for a few seconds.

“Do you want to meet Chan?”

Your attention returned to your friend as soon as she said those words and confusedly you thought in your mind “who?” until you realized who she was talking about. You were curious, you expected an older man but you were surprised to see that shiny black luxury truck and inside of it, an attractive young adult driving, he looked no more than thirty, or maybe less than forty. You had descended all those floors to meet the person your friend was talking about with enthusiasm and you were too surprised.

Chan got out of the car as soon as he saw Hari and opened the passenger door for her.

“She's my friend, y/n” your friend introduced you.

“Pleasure to meet you” you shook hands.

You were in absolute surprise and denial, suddenly everything started to feel like just a fever dream. You felt the heavy gaze of your friend's ‘partner’ and for a second you wondered if he was really the guy who slept with girls for money or the chauffeur of the lucky handsome rich man.

You gave him a small smile and Chan quickly looked at Hari with complicit eyes, silently asking if you knew who he was in her life to which Hari almost reading his mind nodded softly.

“I'll see you another day, goodbye” your friend said goodbye with a strong hug which you were too astonished to reciprocate.

And they both left, leaving you standing on the cold pavement of the parking lot with your thoughts floating.

You returned to your apartment with a million questions, questioning almost your existence. Imagining the possibility of getting into that silly app, you thought for a second that Hari must have had the greatest luck in the world to get the only handsome man in the whole system, whom you wouldn't be disgusted to sleep with even for a second. You thought if you really should pay attention to Felix, fall in love with him, live with him… but you shook your head vigorously to dismiss that idea, it was almost impossible not to fall in love with him but you didn't feel bitchy and cynical enough to take advantage of his love and money at the same time. You knew it was cruel and that he should be looking for someone because you understood each of his signals, and it was obvious that he was crazy about you but among the boring and miserable life you led, his attention was the only thing that kept you motivated.

You couldn't sleep and little by little you convinced yourself more, sex with a stranger? It shouldn't be so bad, having the same amount of money as Hari? it was such a bright dream for you. You could pay off your debts, look for a better place, and free yourself from the visit of the little witch every week. Now you were curious… if it was really reliable and if all your information was highly confidential.

You didn't even check the time and sent Hari a message: «How high security are we talking about in that app?» She replied «I'll tell you everything tomorrow» you noticed your friend's excitement when you realized how quickly she responded.

Until the next day arrived and after work you visited her new and remodeled apartment. It was unreal, you were breathless, the beautiful view and large windows, the harmony of its decoration, it was so bright to be true that if you managed to have money in this situation that you were about to get into, you wanted to keep it realistic, you were afraid that from one day to the next, you would have nothing, so changing your life drastically without having a fixed support was not an option for you, it wouldn't be something long term, just something to get you out of your soon predicament.

They sat on the couch in her spacious living room which was almost the size of your entire apartment.

“Do you want me to manage your account just to verify the data and all that?”

You nodded, you weren't sure what you were about to do, but there you were.

“Okay, all your data is done, they'll send you an e-nail confirmation and let you know if you've been selected to enjoy the app's services. So…”

You swallowed, watching as they wrote all your data to a strange email, your name, date of birth, occupation, your measurements, your physical appearance, number of sexual partners, if you've had any STDs and attach evidence that you're 100% clean, history of alcoholism and smoking…

“I think it's illegal for them to ask for so much data.”

“Don't worry, it'll be worth it.”

“Are you sure I won't end up in… some dark business?” you whispered the last sentence, terrified and nervous.

“Noo, you'll get all the data from the men who want to hire you, even their address while yours is never exposed.”

“I don't know, Hari, men naturally lie.”

Hari chuckled softly, sensing your nervousness.

“I'll put up a picture of you and send it, and…”

“Wait, what?”

“I sent it” she looked at you proudly. “It can take 24 to 48 hours to respond.”

Hours passed, and you were heating up your dinner when a call from Hari interrupted your time.

“You got approved, it was really fast. I'll come to see you.”

She hung up, and you took your food out of the microwave totally bewildered. An hour later, amid the serene night with little rain, your friend appeared at your door with a big smile.

“Why are you so excited? I'm literally about to sell my vagina to wetpussy.com.”

Hari laughed.

“But that will make you a millionaire overnight.”

“Mm” you expressed in disgust and let her in.

“I can't believe it was so fast, they really want you. You have the option to put your real name or a fake one, your real name you can only give if you want.”

“Please, a fake one.”

You were really regretting it.

“What name should I put you?”

“I don't know, just not mine.”

“Cheryl, like darling in French” she wrote with a smile “…except I need pictures…”

“Come on, I sent you the best ones.”

“I know, and you look spectacular, but there's an option where the money goes directly to your bank account once they unlock the function to see your photos…”

You felt like she didn't finish the sentence and you were a little annoyed by the situation, it irritated you to know that you had to do this, well, you didn't have to, and no one was forcing you, but you decided to do it.

“And?”

“They're spicy photos.”

“Absolutely not, is it necessary to do that?”

“Your face can't be seen, and the money goes directly to you. Every time someone opens the option, you get paid ₩10 million, well, it depends on how much the app values you.”

You were in denial until you almost regurgitated your dinner.

“That's an absurd amount.”

“I told you I wasn't joking, I didn't know what they were based on but according to Chan, they're based on dollars or something like that, so for them, it's quite little.”

“Fuck, does Chan have more sugar babies? Because if he continues, he'll go bankrupt.”

“I told you they're not ordinary people and they have to specify what they want, if you ever feel like they disrespect you and don’t follow what was previously established, you have every right to fine them and report them.”

“And make it a public legal issue? No thanks.”

“Then…”

“Well, I guess I have nothing to lose by taking a few lingerie photos, without showing my face!”

[…]

There you were, in the mall at a lingerie store on your day off, trying to find the best pieces that scream “classy slut”, you were so terrified, it means they must be men with a lot of money and extreme loneliness and desperation, so the least you could do was pretend to feel sorry for them and look pretty in a nice set.

You were spending your money on something you hoped would soon multiply by millions, until the sound of your phone startled you because you were so focused that you felt like you were doing something illegal. It was Felix.

“Hey.”

“Hey, where are you? It's your day off, right?” he said.

“Yes… I'm at the mall.”

You couldn't lie to him, the music and sound of people were so audible.

“At the usual one? No way, I'm here too, I'm buying a birthday present for Olivia, I wanted to ask you to help me.”

“Well if you want to wait…”

“Where exactly are you? I'll come find you.”

You didn't want to see him, you felt so guilty accepting dirty money from strangers and not the one he always offered you in the purest way without asking for anything in return, you felt terrible.

“I'm at…” you looked around trying to find another store to run away when he's near, but you couldn't. “Buying lingerie on the second floor.”

You told him the truth, you didn't think he would come. And you've always been someone without filters, except when it comes to Felix, only with him do you have a soft spot. There was a little silence.

“Do you have a date?”

His voice suddenly became serious and his tone of enthusiasm vanished.

“Well, it's complicated” you grimaced but he couldn't see you.

“I'm coming over there.”

Felix hung up on you suddenly and you just let out a sigh; you couldn't guess where he was to calculate his time and leave the store and meet him outside, but you really needed that outfit, your last nudes were taken when you were in high school when you did your first sexting with a guy in your class, who was a nice guy, Kim Seungmin from your science class, you fucked him in the basketball gym closet and he never ever told anyone, nor showed your nudes; but the situation was already twisted enough without putting up your old photos from when you were a minor, plus the light and angles weren't fancy enough to be worth 10 million won.

You rushed to find something fast and before you knew it, Felix had already arrived.

“I like that one” he said in his deep voice close to your ear taking you by surprise.

You turned to see him, today he looked cuter than usual, he had his hands clasped behind his back and a small smile on his sweet face.

“Felix…” you whispered.

“So, what's the occasion? Who are you going to wear that for?” he mumbled.

He wanted to hide his irritation in a soft tone, but he couldn't, he was annoyed.

“Oh, it's nothing, I just have to update my closet.”

“Then buy whatever you want and I'll pay for it” you were about to speak and he gently raised his index finger in objection. “Is it bothering you that I'm here? I can leave you my credit card and wait for you outside.”

Felix looked around innocently, he was surrounded by women's underwear and women. You smiled warmly at him.

“No, actually you can help me.”

You liked to play with Felix a little, you adored watching the way his face would lift and light up all over, his ears would perk up a little and his round eyes would get bigger, as happy as a loyal puppy. Objectively yes he could help you, he was also an incredibly wealthy man, you thought maybe all millionaires shared the same neuron or tastes to get them turned on.

“I'm between this one and this one” you showed him the pairs you had selected.

“Take both of them. Or as many as you want.”

You wanted to get out of there as soon as possible, you were suffocating to the idea of what you were going to do; you loved shopping but today….

“Come on, take some more, your closet won't be filled with just two” Felix added.

You smiled at him and chose a few more so he would stop talking and you could leave at once. Felix paid without any problem while the cashier looked at you with contempt and envy when she saw the pretty boy who accompanied you, slim, elegant, blond with long hair and an innocent face bathed in freckles.

“Thank you, Lix” you gave him a quick kiss on his soft, rosy cheek.

If Felix had a dog's tail, you were sure he'd be wagging it vividly and endlessly with happiness.

“Have you eaten yet? Let's go get something to eat…” he mentioned excitedly, turning to look at you.

“Mm, later, now I'll help you choose the gift for your sister.”

“Oh, yes, sure, what do you think, Cartier or Tiffany? Although Van Cleef is very fashionable among young girls. And maybe a Dior bag, I think it's her favorite brand; my father will give her her first Birkin so my bag will be like a toy, I don't know what to give her.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, Felix was talking and you were listening.

[…]

“Do you wanna go to my place? There's a movie I want to see. Only you would listen to me while I pause the movie every 5 minutes to make a comment.”

Felix spoke while he was driving, he looked at you out of the corner of his eye and noticed you distracted; you couldn't help it, you thought to yourself that you have to take good pictures and that maybe soon your pussy will be tasting a stranger's cock, for money, which made your hair stand on end. You came out of your trance when you realized Felix spoke.

“Yes, it's okay.”

You needed a distraction. And you missed movie nights —and commentary— with Felix, your best filmmaker friend.

“What are you doing on Saturday? You should go to Olivia's party, she's having a themed party after dinner with us; I don't know what her theme is yet, but I'll let you know. Olivia remembers you and likes you very much.”

Felix suggested trying to get your attention. You didn't even have to think about it, Felix's younger sister was a sweetheart like him, it was his older sister who was a tough crowd, you knew she didn't like you and that she thought you only hung out with her brother for his money, she almost fainted when she found out you were on scholarship and lived in a middle class neighborhood. It was enough for you to know that Felix drove you everywhere, that was too much for you.

“I'll think about it… I have a deadline this Sunday for a report.”

He pressed his lips together, knowing you were lying, but he didn't blame you, he thought maybe it would be too much pressure to meet his family.

“So… Are you going to tell me who you're going to wear that lingerie for? Is it someone from the university that I know?” Felix tried to be subtle, but he was dying to know who was going to touch you other than him.

You and Felix had almost done it for multiple times but you always stopped yourself, you couldn't do it because you were afraid he would do it so well and so sweetly that you would end up falling in love with him. He loved the way you made him completely horny, almost cumming in his pants.

And then you had a great idea, if you were going to get into that business you had to be cool and think it would only be a simple fuck, you wouldn't concentrate on anything but feeling a hard cock in your pussy… so you had to fuck Felix right now, there was no other way to prove you were an insensitive bitch than to fuck the only man you have ever felt love and respect for.

You tried to get flirtatious and quickly changed your mood.

“Maybe you're right, he's someone you know very well.”

You spoke slowly and seductively, staring at him, you must have recognized that you really have a very attractive best friend, he quickly noticed your heavy look and the change of mood, so he swallowed nervously and looked at you surprised with opening his pretty eyes in pity and that didn't help you at all, he looked fucking cute when he was like that.

“Oh yeah?” he added playfully looking sideways and running his tongue along the inside of his cheeks.

You moved closer to him and brushed his cheek with the tip of your nose seductively, while your left hand traveled dangerously from his thigh to his crotch where you massaged his growing bulge.

“Let's go to your place and you tell me what you think of each of the sets you bought me, for him.”

You noticed the irregularity of Felix's breathing, you didn't want to act clumsy and end up fucking him in the car, even though it was incredibly spacious enough… but you knew that when Felix was aroused and totally yielding to your charms and touches, he wasn't thinking clearly.

“Let's listen to music while we wait” you added amused.

You moved away from him and played music through the screen of his modern car, almost letting out a giggle, you didn't know if Felix hated you for that or was just turned on and, for him it was the second option, all the way he was uncomfortable with his pants drowning his cock, but he didn't know how to ask you nicely that if possible you could give him a handjob right there, to which he concluded that there was no decent way to say it so he waited until finally arriving at his pent-house.

As you entered the elevator you both kissed desperately, you almost smiled between the kisses knowing how much fun it would be to finally taste your best friend. Felix was holding all the shopping bags tightly, or at least he was trying to, he wanted to keep his hands on your waist and glued you to him, so once you reached his apartment, he let go of the bags and kept kissing you mercilessly, it felt so good, his warm hands on your waist, his tongue exploring the inside of your mouth and your lips joined with a huge appetite. You realized he wanted to take control and if he did, you would end up making love slowly and not just fucking, so you gently pushed him away, he saw you confused with puffy lips and a look of lust.

“Let me show you how good it all looks on me.”

You gave him a quick kiss and took his hand, directing him to the couch where he sat.

He licked his lips as he bit them, stretched out his arms and settled back, trying to ignore his throbbing sex. He loved the way you played with it.

You took the first piece of black full body lace lingerie. You undressed in front of him and slowly and painfully slipped it on, Felix was struggling with his immense desire to make you his.

“Help me.”

You dropped onto his lap pretending to have trouble putting the garment on, you were so wet, you wanted to feel him like you had never wanted to feel him before. Felix put his hands on your body and quickly reached for your pussy, pulling the tight, thin fabric away from your center and began to play with your clit. You moaned, losing control of your initial plan as you were surrendered to his touch.

You unbuttoned his pants, removing them and his underwear in exasperation. And there was your friend's hard, firm cock lightly lubricated in semen, as nice and thin as he was, it looked exquisite, and you were going to ride it so well.

“Felix, the condom” you practically begged.

He gasped at the touch of your hand and firm grip, “over there,” he mumbled pointing to a cabinet with a drawer, you thought for a second if he fucks regularly or why he had condoms in accessible and strategic places. You walked by the condom, feeling your wetness with every step and positioned yourself in front of him, your knees on either side of his thighs.

“You should take pictures of me, with each of the lingerie, exclusively for you; I want you to know that I'm really grateful every time you do something nice for me” you stared at him as you opened the wrapper.

You put the condom on him, you could see how gorgeous, red and swollen his cock was ready for you, and slowly, carefully pulling the fabric apart, you sat on it, inserting it and feeling every inch as you went down.

“Shit, y/n, move for me” Felix gasped.

You moaned as you felt it buried in your pussy and began to enjoy yourself endlessly, jumping on his erection as each squat made you lose your breath. Felix held you tightly by the waist, accentuating each movement. You gave yourself thrusts leaning on his thighs and, when you felt his cock throbbing and his body getting weaker and weaker indicating his orgasm, you hugged him on his shoulders and kept moving your hips and ass with agility.

Felix completely agreed that you would take control and held your ass helping you a little until, between gasps and almost crying, Felix finally cummed. You were so possessed by adrenaline, you could feel your orgasm so close, that you accelerated your squats and held your breath for a second until you finally exploded in a sea of sighs and glistening fluid.

You dropped your tired body on Felix's shoulder, feeling his scent and immediately regretted it, it had been amazing, but you always thought the first time you would fuck Felix would be so sweet, on a warm day, maybe in spring, involving roses and a date… not in such a dirty way on a cold October night on his living room couch.

“You know I like you a lot, y/n. Let's stay that way.”

And you said something really stupid, something you had no intention of saying. You wondered what he meant, whether to continue to stay like this fucking, or cuddling?

“I like you too.”

You kept hiding in his neck, you were a coward who can't accept that you were capable of feeling something for someone.

And if that wasn't enough to make you feel bad, he gave you the sweetest cuddles once you came out of his cock, he tended you carefully and told you how pretty you looked.

After that he took your long awaited pictures and after taking your last one, he made sure to reward you so well that he ended up eating your pussy.

You ended the night by taking a shower together, and fucking you again in there; you watched the movie while he commented on each annotation he made, but Felix fell asleep halfway through, in your arms. You didn't know what to do, you didn't know if you were going to continue that way with him and you still weren't ready to take the big step of accepting his money just because suddenly you go out and he gives you everything, his sister already hated you… what would people think; you cared more about your situation with him than about what they would think if I slept with a stranger for money situation, although, nobody had to know it was for money, if somehow someone found out, you could say it was just a fuck, you thought.

So, resigned to the fact that you still had to pay your rent, you sent the pictures to Hari, to which she quickly replied with a «wow! I got em» Thirty minutes later, a screenshot of what your profile looked like, it was embarrassing for you. «I'll be sure to get you the best deals😉», she wrote back.

The next morning you woke up in Felix's bed, wearing his clothes; he must have moved you and you hadn't even noticed, you reached for your phone and couldn't believe your eyes, notifications from your bank account app, you had received ₩ 40 million.

You were ready to tell Hari that you had enough with what you were getting just for the pictures, you couldn't believe it.

[…]

And, on the other side of the city, in one of the best, luxurious and exclusive hotels in the place, the hotel owner himself, the young and wealthy Hwang Hyunjin and his friend who fit in the same category as him, Lee Minho, were having brunch.

“Ah, Lee Minho, he can finally have brunch with you in his busy schedule” Hyunjin told him.

Hyunjin had arrived and Minho was waiting for him, sitting in one of the hotel's restaurants next to the large window with a view of the city. Hyunjin was more into art, but being the only son of his powerful father who owned hotel chains, he gave him that one right on his 18th birthday, since then Hyunjin has taken more than good care of it, and decorates it in his favorite pieces of art, his favorite part.

Minho stood up to greet him, shaking hands and a quick hug.

“Busy me? If it's you who's going around the country with your galleries” Minho replied, sitting down.

“I know, I know, it's unbelievable. Have you ordered lunch yet?”

“Yes.”

“I'll order the same” Hyunjin shouted to his employee as he sat in his chair facing Minho.

“Big day tomorrow, huh?” added Minho.

“Of course, you have to be there, I even left the presidential suite just for you.”

Hyunjin leaned back in his chair clasping his hands together with a smile on his face. Minho laughed softly.

“I don't get ready in hotels anymore.”

“Well, do it for me this time, like old times. Besides… you have a plus one to my gallery event.”

Minho's soft, amused look tensed a little when he heard his friend.

“Oh yeah? Well, I think I'll go alone.”

“In fact it's mandatory that you go with someone, so I got you that someone.”

“No thanks, I'd rather not go.”

Hyunjin smiled sideways seeing how cute his friend was getting when he was getting into his temper.

“It's a girl, but if you want a boy you have to tell me before tonight” he joked.

“Why can't I be your date then?”

“I'm sorry, I'm already going with someone tomorrow. But I think it's time for you to start seeing more people.”

Minho gave him a dirty look, he didn't want to have that conversation at their meeting after weeks of not being aware of their lives.

“I'm fine, I'm busy.”

“When was the last time you fucked someone” Hyunjin blurted out in amusement trying to smooth the conversation.

“It's none of your business.”

“I'll take that as you haven't done it in a long time.”

“If you care so much why don't you fuck me in the suite.”

Hyunjin laughed, gently touching his nose, though deep down he believed this was no time for joking… or at least it was a little since he didn't know how to tell him what he had to say.

“I would but you'd have to pay back every penny I spent on the pretty girl.”

“You paid money to a girl to sleep with me against my will? Artists are weird, I thought we were in the 21st century.”

Hyunjin couldn't hold it in anymore so he licked his lips and finally confessed:

“Soyul will be there.”

Minho's smirk left his face little by little and his heart almost stopped when he heard after so long the name of his ex-girlfriend; and that was exactly what Hyunjin was referring to and of the expression on his friend's part that Hyunjin feared for. He couldn't lie to him, Soyul was one of his biggest investors, she had to be present and he couldn't fool his friend; he knew he still wasn't over her, not even after two long years since their breakup; in fact, the idea of getting him someone started a few weeks ago, at their meeting where a drunken Minho confessed to him in tears the deep pain and misery he felt after the one he considered the love of his life left him. That was for Hyunjin the straw that broke the camel's back, he was not going to see his friend depressed.

“So?” Minho tried to sound nonchalant.

“She's going with her boyfriend… and I think you're still not over her….”

“And you decided to hire a hooker? That's why you left me the suite, isn't it, motherfucker?”

“She's not a-, well, if you don't want to fuck her, don't, just let her keep you company at my event.”

“Weren't the regular girls available?”

“All the normal girls in our social circle know Soyul and let's face it, they are very gossipy, it will be embarrassing for you for them to know that you haven't moved on with….”

“I can go alone” he interrupted him, he couldn't bear to hear him say his ex-girlfriend's name one more time.

“Come on, Minho, give yourself a chance, she is really pretty, she is an actress and…”

“A porn actress?” he interrupted him, not taking it seriously.

Meanwhile, their waitress was delivering their food and drinks, trying to act normal after overhearing the conversation.

“She's a real actress. I'll text you all her information. She's a Scorpio like you if you care about zodiac signs.”

Minho didn't answer, he didn't feel like dealing with anything else.

“They're freaky” Hyunjin poke as he picked up his cutlery, Minho frowned. “Scorpios. They say they’re good in bed.”

[...]

“I got wonderful news”

Hari suddenly appeared with a huge smile at your work.

“Hello to you too?”

“Can you take a break?”

“I'll be back in 5” you shouted and took off your apron to go out with your friend.

“I'm about to close a deal, I think you should have the money by now. You have to quit your job now, you have a date on Saturday.”

You were perplexed.

“Hari, what did you do?” you felt your phone vibrate in the back pocket of your jeans.

And there it was, your bank account with an imaginable amount, you opened your mouth in surprise, this was starting to get serious with an amount like that.

“I told you.”

“But who is it? What does he look like?” you didn't know how to react.

“Don't worry, they are Chan's friends, they are 100% reliable.”

“Is it more than one?” you opened your eyes in surprise.

“It's not… it’s complicated, a friend of Chan's, Hyunjin hired you for his friend Minho, who said he agreed, he just didn't use the app. I wanted to negotiate for him to pay for both of them but I guess he was pretty generous. Anyway, he just wants you to accompany Minho to Hyunjin's exclusive exhibition and pretend to be in a relationship with him for at least two hours?”

It was a lot of information to process, you didn't know what to say.

“Hyunjin will explain you more in detail but seriously you have to go otherwise you will be fined that same amount paid and a little more. You can leave as soon as you feel uncomfortable since apparently Minho has a strong personality.”

“Believe me, I'll leave as soon as I walk through the door.”

[…]

There you were on your Saturday night, standing in front of the door of a luxurious hotel, you walked in and met the handsome young man who was in charge of filling your bank account. You walked shyly toward him and greeted him with embarrassment. His dress code was clear: a short black dress fitted to your silhouette, comfortable shoes and normal underwear. He was going to dress you.

You looked at him, there he was, the famous Hwang Hyunjin himself from the large dynasty of the Hwangs, very influential people; he was taller than you, he had sharp eyes and thick lips, he was more attractive in person and he had to tell you the same.

“You look spectacular, chérie” he mentioned flirtatiously. “Come here” he invited you to come closer and you did.

You weren't a big fan of this, but you had to admit that something inside you grew and made you feel incredibly horny, the atmosphere of the hotel, the tense silence and the incredibly handsome man in front of you, in addition to your submissive behavior… rarely turned you on a bit.

“Do you want me to call you a make up artist or your make up it’s fine?” he gently touched your hair.

You looked up to see him.

“I think, it’s okay like this.”

You were nervous and slightly horny.

You did your best job with your make up and hair already, the make up was natural and elegant but still visible, matte nude eyeshadow, sharp eyeliner, elongated lashes, soft blush and lipgloss. Your hair was styled with soft waves.

“Great, so we don’t waste more time. You look beautiful already, actually you look better than the photos” he put his hands in his pants pockets and looked at you up and down biting his lip. “The dress is ready in the room, but you know what actually, bring it right here. Dress in front of me.”

Hyunjin was already aroused and was fighting his instincts to seduce and touch you, yet you were his friend's tonight, but he thought it only fair to see first what he had paid for. He sat comfortably on the couch and waited for you to return. On the other hand you were more than nervous and strangely agitated with excitement, that dark-haired man dressed in a tight suit all white because that was the theme of the party and finally there it was, a dress whose style and logo you could recognize so well. A white Versace mini dress that you assumed would fit to your mid thighs, you thought you had only seen that style in black so it was strange to see it in the brand's signature pearl white; until you saw the name Hyunjin embroidered on the label, was it designed for you? A shiny black Jimmy Choo silhouette heels, and a white crossbody bag from the same designer of the dress, you were speechless, so amazed that you almost forgot Hyunjin's request, he wanted you to change in front of him, then you saw something that terrified you, a beautiful white lingerie that went perfect under the dress, he wanted to see you naked.

You wanted it to be quick, almost like pulling off a bandit, so you tried to take everything and brought it close to him where you found him sitting on the couch ready for his little private show. You undid your black dress at the bottom so as not to ruin your hair and unthinkingly removed your underwear. Hyunjin was engrossed, he wondered why he didn't choose you, but for him after seeing your naked body. He was struggling as hard as he could to keep an erection from appearing in his pants, but it was too late.

You took off your low sandals ready to put on your underwear but he interrupted you.

“Let me help you.”

He took the garment and squatted down while helping you slide your panties to your area. Hyunjin enjoyed every second of the soft touch of your legs and then stood up to help you fasten your strapless bra. You could feel the tension in the air so you just bit your lip, resisting his hot touches and his warm breath on the back of your neck.

Finally you put on your dress and heels and you looked completely different, you never thought you would get to wear something like that to a type of event you don't frequent. You awkwardly moved the things from your bag to the new one and tried to regain your sanity.

“Something's missing” he spoke and grabbed your left wrist.

Hyunjin put on you the characteristic white clover bracelet with gold from the refined Van Cleef jewelry.

“Well, you've seen Minho. This is the key and it's two floors up from here” he added, handing you the access card. “I want to see the two of you together in the gallery, he may even could offer you the double of money so you can leave, but please, you have to go with him.”

Hyunjin now spoke in a commanding tone giving you instructions, his hot moment had passed, he had to concentrate.

“And please… let me know if you and Minho fuck, if the idiot doesn't touch you we can maybe go to…. how about Santorini?”

It seemed that you had your feelings locked in a box and that you acted according to a fever dream. You thought you were an actress and could get out of it easily, you just had to act. Your role was now about a rich girl wannabe.

You entered the room unannounced as instructed by Hyunjin and took a few steps forward until Minho heard the door open, interrupting his grooming time so he came out of his room wrapped in a towel and still with slightly wet hair.

“I didn't order room serv…” he said.

Minho stopped dead in his tracks as he looked at you standing there. You didn't know what to do, you were frozen in place; you looked at him, he looked handsome and was half naked, except for the towel covering his private parts, you couldn't help seeing him, his worked body, muscular arms but not exaggerated, his abdomen marked with a small scar above his navel and…. you felt bad but you thought he was looking directly at you too, his marked penis above the white towel. Minho smiled sideways at your nerve to look at him and could tell your mild surprise as you looked at his package, a valid reaction he thought.

“You're in the wrong room or are you lost?”

Minho could predict why you were there, after all you could only get in with the key. He looked at you sternly waiting for an answer. You took a breath and spoke.

“I will be your companion today at the art exhibition.”

Minho laughed and let out a breath.

“I don't remember ordering a hooker either. That fucker Hyunjin sent you, didn’t he?”

The term took you by surprise and you were offended, you were about to defend yourself when he continued speaking.

“Seriously, you can go, I'll pay you more than whatever that bastard gave you, just go” he waved his hands in a gesture for you to leave.

“I won't.”

“Will you make me call security?”

“Do it” you challenged.

Minho exhaled in annoyance and touched his forehead in concern.

“I'm going to kill Hwang Hyunjin.”

Without another word he went back to his room and thirty minutes later he came out ready dressed in a white suit with his serious expression. He looked at you for a few seconds with contempt as he passed by you and headed towards his door ready to leave, you ran towards him, leaving at the same time.

“I don't know what Hyunjin is up to but when I see him I'll…”

He was expressing himself annoyed until more people entering the elevator interrupted him.

“I'll get my car keys” he said to you indifferently as he walked away towards the hotel counter.

You followed Minho, keeping a distance; you glanced around, being able to see from the huge waiting room to the large entrance to the restaurant where you could also see and your heart stopped for a moment when you spotted a long dyed blonde hair sitting at one of the tables. You turned quickly, hoping he couldn't see you, but as if fate would have it, you managed to see him leave his seat and approach the foyer. In panic you slipped into the waiting room where you sat with your back turned.

Felix went straight to Minho.

“Lee Minho” he blond greeted him enthusiastically.

“Hey, Yongbokkie, what brings you here.”

Minho turned to look at Felix and frowned when he saw that you were no longer behind his back, he looked at you for a few seconds until he deduced that you might have finally run away, which made him happy and disappointed at the same time.

“It's Olivia's birthday dinner”.

“Oh, congratulate her for me” the blond smiled at him.

“Are you about to leave?” Felix said.

“Yes, I'm going to Hyunjin's.”

“Sure, sure, maybe I'll stop by later.”

Minho just smiled at him and asked a few more trivial questions about his parents.

“Mr. Lee, your car is outside waiting for you” the employee interrupted them.

“I have to go Felix, I'll see you later.”

“Of course.”

You were hiding, praying that Felix wouldn't recognize your hair and suddenly you saw him chatting with your 'date' for tonight, apparently they were friends so you felt more terrified, what if by chance Minho decides to tell Felix? Oh you would be ruined. After the short talk you saw Minho leaving towards the exit so once again you slipped away almost running to catch up with Minho. He was surprised to see you back by his side. Minho said,

“Mm, the night was just starting to get nice when I thought you had left.”

You gave him a dirty look and followed him to his car where you sat in the passenger seat. When Minho put on his seat belt he noticed the shiny gold detail on the strap of your dress, it was the medusa logo characteristic of that high fashion Italian brand.

“The bastard dressed you in Versace, you already look more like his than mine.”

You stood still not knowing what to say, it was maybe the first nice thing he had said to you during all your short time together.

Minho inspected you quickly, he was so upset that his friend didn’t lie, and just like Hyunjin said, you were a really pretty girl.

“But he didn't put earrings on you, if you're going to come with me you have to look your best.”

Once again he spoke in a resigned tone and arrived at Tiffany's jewelry store. Minho was resigned to the fact that you would accompany him tonight so he thought if you were going to make Soyul jealous, you really had to do it. Besides he had already inspected you, at first glance you were too pretty and that dress fit you like a dream so that speeded things up.

Once again, you had to go behind him and you entered the luxurious establishment.

“Good evening, Mr. Lee, how can I help you? Would you like something to drink?” the worker hurried to say to you once you entered, with a smile, looking quickly towards you.

You noticed how she looked at you in surprise since Minho hadn't brought another girl since two years ago when he was still in a relationship.

“Nothing for me in particular, I'm looking for earrings for women.”

“Of course, I'll show you.”

Minho followed the young woman and you followed Minho, who led you deeper into one of the display counters; you had come a lot of times with Felix every time it was a special occasion for his family since he had been raised among only women, he always offered to buy you some jewelry but you flatly refused. And now there you were, about to accept them from a stranger.

“Choose” he ordered you. “Quickly, I don't like to be late” he looked at his watch.

Timidly you leaned down to look at each one of the fine jewelry until a pair of gold diamond earrings in the shape of a flower caught your attention.

“These” you murmured to Minho.

The clerk stood waiting for his confirmation.

“I'll take those.”

He quickly took care of paying for them without looking at the price and they were finally delivered in their characteristic turquoise box with a white bow. He got into the car first and left the box there, you snorted for a second annoyed at how ungentlemanly and attentive he was, one second you felt like a princess wearing Versace and taking you to Tiffany & Co. and the next you had to run to keep up with him.

As soon as you got in, he said curtly:

“Use them, we're about to get to Hyunjin's.”

You watched him take the steering wheel attractively and noticed two boxes in between of you. You didn't know why you took the other one and Minho, noticing it, quickly placed his hand on yours stopping you.

“It's the other box.”

You looked at him, he acted a little strange; you took the other box and put on those sparkling diamonds. You had taken the old engagement ring that Minho bought for Soyul before they broke up, he was ready to give it up as it was of no use to him, it was made to fit his ex-girlfriend's finger.

When you arrived you saw that it was not a simple exhibition, but a chateau style mansion with many cars parked at the grand entrance, you got nervous, just like Minho, normally he didn't get like this but it would be the first time he would see Soyul accompanied by the man why she left him and also he had his first kind of date after so long.

Minho let out a breath.

“Well, we have to do it right. You're an actress, right? Create a character right now so we can both be on the same page.”

You didn't know what to say.

“I can change my name and….”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Which one is right for you?”

“Anything…”

“Choi Eunjoo… photographer from…”

“A place far away, what about Jeju?” he mentioned intensely, he was nervous.

You nodded. You had chosen the name of an inactive random actress who studied at the same university as you, who was a friend of Felix's mother and whose cinematography he forced you to watch while your friend argued how good she looked at her age. If they try to look you up for your name, they would be surprised to see only her and her inactive projects in the early 2000s.

“Okay, let's go.”

You both walked down the dirt road, once you came out of the darkness and Minho noticed people watching, he grabbed you by the waist.

“And what is your real name, Eunjoo?” he whispered to you.

[…]

It was better than you expected, you didn't imagine that there would be a construction like this in the modern city, you drank Champagne while you didn't leave Minho's side even for a second; after a couple of drinks you both relaxed completely and walked around the house and admired Hyunjin's paintings. This was maybe a normal Saturday for Minho, but it was for you a dream, you felt like Cinderella, once the clock struck 12 and the charm would be completely gone.

At one point in a room you both finally met Hyunjin, Minho came over to greet him and you shyly watched them chat, Hyunjin gave you a complicit look and smile, he hadn't seen Minho relaxed in years, sadly it was short lived as Soyul entered the room.

You noticed Minho's jaw tighten and saw where his eyes were fixed, on a pretty slim woman with the face of a celebrity. You quickly understood and walked over to Minho, linking your arm around his.

“You're here” she said to him.

She quickly looked at you.

“I'm still Hyunjin's friend.”

“Jung Soyul, nice to meet you” she introduced herself.

You held hands and Minho saw something that broke his heart once again, an engagement ring on her finger, suddenly the alcohol left his body, he felt sick, the suit was suffocating him.

“Choi Eunjoo” you smiled at her.

“So are you dating?”

Hyunjin could notice the sour look she had on you and that caused him satisfaction.

“Yes” Minho went ahead to say.

“I haven’t see you before, Choi Eunjoo.”

She said hypocritically, blinking repeatedly.

“Oh, it's just that, I'm an indie photographer from Jeju and… I met Minho and the rest is history.”

“Oh, now that's romantic.”

“More romantic than getting to know each other when you're in another relationship” Hyunjin added amusedly, taking a sip of his drink.

Soyul gave him a dirty look. And Minho didn't find it funny, he wanted to get out of there. Soyul knew him so well and noticed his expression, meanwhile you were analyzing the look of pity she was giving your boss, so you turned to see him, he looked serious and pale. You quickly approached his ear, covering your lips and whispered to him:

“We can get out of here if you want, pretend I'm saying something nice to you and smile naturally. You're acting weird.”

And so he did, Minho smiled softly; he hadn't felt the touch of another woman in years, suddenly your warm breath and soft lips brushing minimally against his ear pleased him.

“We haven't seen the whole exhibition yet, excuse me” he added, taking your hand.

You moved far enough away and, in a crowded room, he let go of your hand and walked out the large doors to what you could see was a balcony. You didn't know whether to follow him, but you did anyway.

He had unbuttoned his suit and a few buttons on his shirt, he felt suffocated. You saw him leaning against the white stone railing.

“Should I ask what's got you like this?” you said softly.

“You don't have to follow me around all the time” he added defensively. “Soyul cheated on me and now she is going to marry that motherfucker, what a great night to find out.”

You didn't say anything, you didn't know how to comfort someone and in a way, Minho was grateful for your silence.

“Well, once I say it out loud it sounds pathetic” he added.

“Hyunjin told me it was complicated for you…” you approached him and hesitated to touch him, but slowly rubbed your hand on his back, “that he wants the best for you and you start to meet new people.”

Minho let out a chuckle and watched you carefully, he hadn't given himself the task of observing how pretty you looked in that dress, under the moonlight, the way your eyes sparkled and how your lips looked so appetizing, Minho found himself losing his temper a bit for you so he quickly rejected any feelings and immaturely, he became elated and said:

“I don't know why I'm saying this things to a hooker anyway.”

He brushed off your touch and walked away leaving you absolutely lost and somewhat hurt.

The rest of the night you didn't find Minho and you were starting to get scared, you felt out of place, lost in a huge house, full of rich people laughing in their own social circle, you were so sensitive you wanted to cry, you wondered if Minho had abandoned you there.

You checked the time, past midnight and 5 minutes, it was time to go. You tried to look for a way out until you made it, you felt so embarrassed that you would ask for a cab but the signal on your phone there was terrible.

Suddenly you felt a big hand grab your wrist, you turned around scared and found the man you almost cried for tonight.

“Let's get out of here.”

Confused, he led you to his car and you parted on the road in silence. Minho had pondered all night and wanted to take the next step, to finally be with a woman other than his ex-girlfriend, but he didn't know exactly how to ask you.

As you merged into the city you realized he was heading in an unknown direction until you reached the hills in one of the more upscale neighborhoods and finally saw that he had taken you to his house.

You thought he was a selfish piece of shit and there were two options, suddenly he wanted to fuck you or he went home exhausted and sad and would let you call a cab to take you home. But what you didn't know was that he was cynically leaning towards the first option.

You got out of the car and now he was the one running towards you.

“Why that face y/n?” he said, approaching you.

You looked at him indignantly, suddenly he was calling you by name and wanted to have you close, you thought he must be drunk.

“Let's go inside, you have to be a good girl and thank me for the earrings, I'll make sure to buy you more pairs.”

He grabbed you by the waist, you noticed how his voice became gravelly, but that wasn't how you fell and he knew he said a couple of hurtful things but he didn't know how to apologize. You questioned whether you should play along, fuck him and call it a day and go home, as sadly you had to play along, or so you thought.

You stared into his eyes, those big dark eyes in a cute cat shape, he was attractive and from what you saw earlier he had a good dick, so you decided that if you would cry at least make sure it was worth it.

“What do you have in mind?” you rounded his neck and moved your face closer.

He smiled mischievously and, the next thing you knew, you were both in his home entrance devouring each other's lips. Minho had a lot of dirty ideas while he was away from you during the party, the alcohol made him horny. He took off his coat and untucked his shirt and undid his belt. He slipped his hands under your dress lifting it and shamelessly squeezed and massaged your ass, drawing you to his body where you began to feel his erection rubbing against you; Minho loved the idea of touching your bare ass since you only had tiny panties on, you moaned as you felt his lips and tongue on your neck, for some reason his mouth was so soft and you were a complete sucker when you were treated to a lot of physical contact during sex.

You parted and an act of lust, he sought to undo your dress and bra, he stared at you, semi naked for him and began to move his kisses down your breasts without breaking eye contact, it looked fucking good to watch him as he moved down your body and feasted himself on your tits until he moved down to your underwear and wet pussy. By this point you were panting and in need of action. His sharp nose brushed against your mons pubis and he slowly slid your underwear down your legs until he stripped them from you. He parted your legs a little and you felt his hot breath on your area screaming for attention. Minho took your pussy with his big hands and parted your folds, sticking his tongue out shyly and giving your whole pussy a deep, dirty kiss. You gave a little cry of excitement and didn't think you were capable of standing in heels while he ate you out.

Minho felt so good, with his thumb he stimulated your clit as you gave little spasms into him from your excitement. He noticed that you were becoming increasingly impossible to hold so he stopped, carried you suddenly upstairs to his room. Minho laid you down on his bed while he stayed on the edge of it finishing undressing himself. You watched the spectacle with excitement, from his notorious veins to his hands undoing buttons that looked tiny and finally his pants releasing his big firm erect cock, your heart raced faster just watching it, it was delicious, he was incredibly endowed, it was big and thick with notorious veins, you bit your lip thinking how incredibly painful but pleasurable that would feel in your pussy.

Minho saw your reaction and quickly positioned himself over you, he took your wrists and held them with one hand above your head.

“Did you like what you see, little whore?”

You nodded, unable to speak properly, if you tried to say anything it would surely be in a needy tone. You could feel him slapping your belly every time he came closer to you.

“You want it in your mouth?”

You almost screamed please, but before you could speak, Minho lay back waiting to be satisfied. On your knees and arching your back purposely giving him a view of your dripping pussy, you took his big cock and inserted it into your mouth tasting every vein. Minho sat up and began to fuck you with two fingers inserting them into your vagina. You are a mess, completely wet, with cum and saliva sliding down the corner of your lips, you didn't think it could have been better until you feel his hands on your hips and he tries to position you on top of him. You helped him a little and for the first time you were experiencing the 69 position.

You were panting between his big dick, your nose was starting to get slippery and little tears were coming out of your eyes. On the other hand Minho had his tongue deep inside you, he was tasting your labia, and stimulating your clitoris and from time to time he passed your wetness stimulating your exposed ass.

You stopped sucking him off when you felt your climax near, you sat up while resting your hands on his marked abdomen, only your gasps and grotesque sound of Minho devouring your pussy could be heard in the room, occasionally he would let out tinies 'mmmh' enjoying every second of you. You clung more to his abdomen and lifted your ass gently so as not to rest all your weight on him; you threw your head back blinded with pleasure.

“I'm gonna cum” you announced in a desperate, choked cry.

And just when you didn't think it could have been any better, Minho accelerated his licking and sucked harder, bringing you to the edge until you collapsed in his mouth. Your orgasm had been so strong that it hurt your abdomen a little.

You pulled away from him, embarrassed and soaking wet but Minho was more than happy. He leaned back on his elbows and wiped his mouth with a smile, it had been a long time since he had the intimacy of good sex, let alone eating such an appetizing nice pussy like yours, he smiled as he was satisfied that he was still excellent in bed.

You looked at his naked body again, his hard cock was needy and sensitive and within seconds you were horny again. Minho grabbed you roughly by the face and kissed you heatedly. He pulled away from you and with his hand made a motion indicating you to turn around, confused you showed him your ass and put yourself in four.

Minho without thinking caressed your buttocks and then spanked you hard 5 times in a row, each stroke exalted you and made you moan pleasurably, your skin was burning with pain, you could predict that your ass was thus as red as your riotous cheeks.

Minho played with your pussy a little, reinserting his fingertips, you saw him take a condom and within seconds you felt the latex on the tip of his penis teasing your entrance. Until you felt him slowly insert half of his erection and then insert the rest all at once causing you to let out a soft cry. You arched your back again as you gently moved your ass, adjusting yourself to his massive cock, filling your insides.

“I'm going to fuck you hard, kitten.”

He murmured and without warning and without mercy he began to ram you bestially making the sound of his pelvis slapping your buttocks resonate along with the sounds of your wet and well lubricated cunt. You couldn't help but moan every time he was inside, you felt like you were going to swoon all over him, it felt so good for you as well as for him, finally, the adrenaline and desire to fuck someone who wasn't as vanilla as his ex-girlfriend, Minho always liked to fuck hard.

You were in paradise, you were wearing diamonds and he was abruptly pounding your insides. Minho was holding you by the hips but soon grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled it, riding you wonderfully; his view was beautiful, he pulled his grip tighter and pressed you to his body, your back rubbing against his bare chest, you could feel his cock protruding from your lower belly, thrusting you hard. In one swift movement, he held you with his strong right arm whose naughty fingers pinched and stimulated your clit and with his left hand he began to gently choke you. He gasped from time to time in your ear “fuck” over and over again. You both synchronized your climax and you felt the grip of his hand on your neck getting tighter and tighter until you couldn't breathe, you adored it, you loved how your body was fighting for oxygen but at the same time seeking the culmination of your pleasure, your heart beat faster and oxytocin shot out of your system and in desperation you placed your hands on his hand on your neck, you felt every vein exalted from his strong grip.

You thought you were going to pass out but it was only your shuddering second orgasm, Minho slowly released you and cum on the condom still inside you. You ended up exhausted, racing and with your limbs trembling.

You had never been fucked so well that you almost felt the need to tell him I love you so you could have him forever.

The next morning you woke up naked, still in his comfortable bed. When you opened your eyes you found Minho buttoning his shirt, he looked all tidy and was getting ready.

“Are you going somewhere on Sunday?”

You spoke, hoarse and still asleep.

Minho turned to see you and smiled, he thought you looked cute with your hair in disarray and your face a little puffy, but after a second he regretted it. He refused to feel anything for you other than just desire.

“You have to go. The driver is outside.”

He told you coldly and walked out of his room, leaving you slightly heartbroken.

He was unbelievable.

#lee know #lee know skz #lee know stray kids #lee know smut #skz scenarios #stray kids #stray kids smut #lee know x reader #lee know imagines #skz smut #lee know x you #lee know x y/n #lee felix smut #kpop smut #Spotify

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eddiesghxst · 6 months

Text

The After Party

this is nothing but smut and entirely based off the gorgeous and delicious request my sweet stink @mmunson86 sent me <3

credit for cute lil dividers: @cafekitsune

————

18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: rockstar!eddie x makeup artist!reader

summary: you and eddie celebrate after a successful night

contains: eddie is a little anxious in the beginning, grinding, oral (f and m receiving), p in v (unprotected - don't be silly), creampie, multiple L word bombs, and eddie being a sweet lil rockstar bf <3

word count: 4.5k

-masterlist-

The Oscars.

A night full of pretentious actors and actresses who walk with their noses high in the air with straight backs and posh accents to match.

It’s a load of bullshit, is what Eddie thinks.

Maybe not bullshit— that’s a harsh way to put it— but it’s definitely not any place for a metalhead rockstar, let alone four metalhead rockstars.

Yet, here Eddie is, preparing to step out of a black SUV and into the swarming crowd of flashing lights, nameless faces, and a hailstorm of screaming questions. Not the ideal way Eddie would choose to spend his Sunday night, but he’s more focused on what will come after the award show.

A night spent with you.

His lucky charm.

You and Eddie met many moons ago, back in ‘91. Corroded Coffin was finally going big and landed a shoot for their first official music video. Eddie hadn’t believed the day could get any better, but then you came in, all panicked and spewing apologies for running late. And you were gorgeous; everything about you was perfect: your hair, your lips, your eyes, your hands, your legs. Everything. And, well, Eddie was stoked to find out you were a part of their makeup crew for the day.

Obviously, Eddie managed to end up in your chair, and it’s the best decision Eddie ever made— because now, four years later, Eddie’s riding to the fucking Oscars with the love of his life.

Fuckin’ ace, right?

When Eddie asked you if you were doing anything on the night of the Oscars, you had initially thought it would be to do his makeup since you don’t often attend these types of things with him, but he quickly shut that down, “No, I want you to come with me— you do know you’re also my girlfriend, right?”

You were surprised because, well, shit, it’s the fucking Oscars, but even if you insisted that Eddie should take Wayne instead, he refused to take no for an answer, and now he’s thankful for his stubborn manners because you look stunning.

Eddie can’t wrap his mind around how beautiful you look tonight. You always look beautiful, but tonight, it’s a different tier of Disney princess incarnate. You’re breathtaking, Eddie thinks as he watches you apply your lipstick.

You’re wearing a custom-made all-black lace Chanel dress; it hugs you in all the right places and sits around your chest in a sinfully perfect way that has Eddie shifting in his seat every now and then.

Eddie doesn’t realize you’re talking to him until you reach out and touch his knee, “Huh?”

Your lips curve into a soft smile, “You doing okay, hon?” You ask as you squeeze his knee.

Eddie hums, resting his hand over yours and curling his fingers around yours to bring your hand to his mouth, muttering into your knuckles as he kisses your warm skin, “Peachy.”

It’s not Eddie’s scene; award shows like this. More so because Eddie is a singer and not an actor, but the band was nominated for best documentary feature. For the past two years, Corroded Coffin has been working day and night on their rise to fame documentary— and fuck, did the film pull numbers.

Initially, the boys hadn’t imagined the movie would get this much attention, and Gareth wouldn’t believe it even if you showed him the actual numbers, but reality settled in when they got the letter for their Oscar nomination.

The boys have been excited, to say the least. Eddie has been preparing a speech for months now and has been talking about it for weeks on end, and now that the day has come, Eddie’s a nervous wreck, and apparently, he’s shit at masking it because you’re leaning over to press a soft kiss to his cheek.

“You’re gonna do great. You have nothing to worry about.” You assure Eddie with a squeeze of his fingers, and Eddie thinks you’re right— there’s nothing to worry about, right?

————

Wrong.

Eddie was wrong.

The show went great. Corroded Coffin won, and Eddie did somewhat okay on his half of the speech, but whoever the idiot was that was in charge of seating arrangements sat you right next to Steve fucking Harrington— and god, Eddie couldn’t stand how close Steve leaned in each time to speak over the chatter of the crowd.

You’ve mentioned Steve in the past, something about working together on a past film, but Eddie wasn’t aware of how close you two actually are— and is it a crime to get grumpy when a guy is clearly fiending for your girlfriend? Eddie doesn’t think so.

But how can Eddie be upset when you’re peppering wine-sticky kisses all over his face?

“I’m so fuckin’ proud of you.” You mumble between each kiss.

Eddie can feel the curve of your smile against his skin, and his stomach flips as he squeezes at your hips, pulling you closer as he melts into the plush hotel covers.

“You’re so sweet. Got this hotel for me when it’s supposed to be your night?” You hum, pressing your body into Eddie’s as you leave one wet kiss against his chin. Eddie smiles, “I wanted to do something nice,” Eddie shrugs. “It’s a celebration for us both, princess. You were a part of the journey, too, you know.” He presses a kiss to your lips, and you snort.

“Barely,” you grin. “But I’m honored to have been mentioned in your speech.” You dust your nose across Eddie’s, and Eddie hopes you don’t see the blush that rises to his cheeks at the mention of the heartfelt words he’d said to you while on stage. It made the crowd awe and coo, and you had tears in your eyes when he found his way through the arena back to you, wasting no time in giving you a bone-crushing hug and an excited kiss.

Eddie’s hands trail over your back to squeeze at your ass, humming against your lips when you push back against his touch. Eddie’s fingers curl into the fabric of your dress, “Take this off,” he grumbles, and you smile, kissing him once more before pushing yourself up, “Not so fast, I’ve got a surprise.” You crawl off his lap and roll your eyes when Eddie groans at the loss of contact.

You fondly gaze down at your boyfriend dramatically splayed out on the hotel bed and snicker as you softly kick at his foot, “Pause the theatrics and unzip me, please?”

Eddie sits up with a grunt, lips twitching when he sees the smile on your face as you turn your back to him. Eddie’s fingers are cool and gentle when they brush against your skin, knuckles grazing down your spine as he unzips the dress. You hold the dress to your chest so it doesn’t fall, and you shiver when Eddie leans forward to press a kiss right in the center of your back, his hands slinking into the opened dress to curl around your warm stomach. Your teeth bite into the smile of your lip as you shimmy out of his hold, teasing him for being greedy and ignoring the annoyed remark he sends toward you.

Eddie watches, lovestruck and in awe, as you saunter into the ensuite and disappear behind the closed door. And as Eddie sits on the edge of the bed, watching the shadow of your figure move beneath the door, he can’t stop himself from asking, “So, what’s up with that Harrington guy?”

“...Steve?”

Eddie tries not to let irritation seep into his tone, but he rolls his eyes and nods as he responds, “Yeah… Steve.”

You knew Eddie had been thinking about your interactions with Steve ever since you found your seats and realized you were sitting next to your longtime friend. It was all friendly, an excited hug to see one another after so long, followed by a lot of conversation throughout the night. Eddie didn’t interrupt, but he kept his hand on your thigh for most of the night.

You had been extra touchy with Eddie all night to remind him that Steve is not who you want and you only have eyes for Eddie, but it seems to have still been on his mind.

You shrug, even though Eddie can’t see you as you slip on the intricate lingerie. “I told you, babe, we worked on a set together a while back in like ‘89.” You respond before adding on with a joking tone, “He’s too famous for me now.” Eddie immediately responds with, “That’s not true.” and you smile as you strap the garters around your thighs.

You can practically hear Eddie’s gears turning before he speaks up again, “I didn’t know you knew so many people in the film industry.”

Your turn to see yourself in the mirror as you respond, “I mean… sure, Eds, why does it matter?” You ask as you slip on a robe over your decorated figure.

“It doesn’t matter! I mean— it does matter, but I’m not like… bothered.” You giggle as you tighten the robe around your body before swinging the door open, stepping out, and gazing at your flustered boyfriend. The first few buttons of his shirt are open, and his lips are stained red from the wine you’d shared at dinner. His brown eyes are wide and shiny from the light influence, and your heart squeezes within your chest as you step in between his legs and cup his face, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the tip of his nose and then his forehead. “What’s wrong? You’re upset about Steve?” You hum.

Eddie pouts, ringed fingers sinking into the soft material of your robe. “No.” He grumbles. You smile, tilting his head up so he looks at you; you press the palm of your hand against his eyebrows, gently pushing his bangs out of the way. “You have nothing to worry about, Eds. Steve is just a friend… and I’m like ninety-nine point nine percent sure he has a crush on you.” Eddie rolls his eyes as he squeezes the softness of your hips, “You’re just saying that.”

You shake your head with a snort, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you move to straddle his hips. Your robe shifts from the position, and Eddie’s eyes flicker to the small open view he has of your chest, and he groans at the sight of black straps and lace. You shift on his lap, grabbing his attention as you reply, “I’m not actually,” You hum, leaning forward to press a wet kiss to Eddie’s jaw. He breathes, warm fingers ghosting over your stocking-clad legs and squeezing the thick of your thighs. “Everyone wants you, Eddie.” You whisper as you pepper kisses across his jaw and neck.

Eddie’s hands smooth up your sides and back, ghosting over your neck to cup your face and tilt your head, pressing a soft kiss to your lips as you smile and mumble, “S’too bad, you’re stuck with me.” Eddie hums at your words, and you lean in to kiss him again, “Forever.” You add with a joking tone.

“I don’t mind forever,” Eddie mutters against your lips, and your heart flutters as you imagine forever with Eddie. Settling down in your home together, maybe raising a family, getting a dog or a cat, growing old together. Forever. You want it.

Eddie’s hands are still roaming your body, and you sigh when his fingers gently squeeze over your covered hips. “You gonna show me the rest of my surprise?” Eddie looks at you with hunger in his eyes as his fingers hook into the straps of the garter, pulling and letting it snap against the skin of your thigh and snickering when you jolt with a yelp. “Because these are giving me ideas.”

You giggle, “Ideas?”

Eddie nods, softly nipping at your chin, and you roll your eyes before nodding down at the tied belt of the robe, “Fine then. You can open your gift.”

Eddie’s like a kid on Christmas when you give him the go-ahead. He’s always eager to unravel you in any way, shape, or form, and you have yet to find yourself growing bored of watching him indulge in his favorite toy— you. His gaze is excited, and his fingers make quick work of untying the loose knot, tossing the belt to the side, and pushing open the sides of your cover-up.

“Jesus fuck…”

Eddie is speechless for the most part, mind struggling on which parts of you to focus on and which parts to touch because every inch of you is just so fucking perfect. Eddie pushes the robe off your shoulders, fingers warm and gentle as they drag down your arms, running over the tops of your thighs and gently squeezing your hips. And then he sees it— the fucking words woven into the fabric of your black panties.

Oscar Winner’s Only

In red cursive lettering. Eddie’s lips quirk into a smile, and you grin as he surges forward to press a searing kiss against your lips, “God, I fucking love you.” He groans as he flips you over, ignoring your squeal as he presses sloppy, wet kisses to your neck.

“You like it?” You ask, and Eddie moans against your skin before sitting up to look at you, “I fucking love it, baby. You’re so fucking good to me,” He kisses you and you hum, “I want you.” He adds.

“Want you all the time,” Kiss. “Every day.” Kiss. “Every second.” Kiss. “Three sixty-five, baby. You’re so fuckin’ it for me.”

You preen, arms wrapping around his shoulders to pull him in close as your legs cinch around his waist. You sigh heavily into a kiss, your body melting into Eddie’s when you feel him stiff against your core. You squirm, “Show me.” You whisper against him.

Eddie thanks you for the precious and thoughtful gift as he unwraps you from the lacey garments because even though you look like a goddess wrapped in lace, Eddie can’t take a single barrier between you— “I need to see you. All of you. Every inch.” You don’t argue with him on that and allow him to undress the little clothing you had until you’re bare against the hotel sheets. It’s a blurry whirlwind of clothes, kisses, and soft praises as you and Eddie grapple at one another, yearning to feel skin on skin.

Eddie’s kneeling over you, veiny and decorated hands smoothing over your spread thighs, his hair now pulled back into a shitty excuse of a bun— and god, he’s so beautiful. Stark naked body on full display in front of you, tattoos fluttering alive with the steady rise and fall of his chest. Wisps of hair escaped his grasp when he tied his unruly locks, and they now frame his face in an almost heavenly way, and you want so badly to capture his essence in this very moment. Snap a picture and keep it tucked away so you can always gaze at and admire him in this moment.

Eddie’s cock is hard and almost leaking as it stands proud between your bodies, and you want to reach out and touch him, but Eddie is leaning over to kiss you and mumble instructions for you to turn around.

A shiver rolls up your spine in excitement as you flip over, grabbing one of the pillows to hold beneath your chest. You rest your head against the height of the pillow, goosebumps painting all across your body in anticipation. You expect Eddie to hitch your hips back towards him and pull you up to all fours. You expect him to be as hungry and eager as he always is because you and Eddie usually play that way. Rough, hard, toe-curling and sloppy. But you’re surprised when you feel Eddie’s gentle touch travel up the expanse of your thighs, ass, hips, and back, the pressure of him leaning over you to push your hair away from your neck and press a soft kiss to the warm skin.

You can feel him, hard and heavy between your ass, and you can’t help but push your hips back into him. Eddie moans, pressing wet kisses just below your ear, one of his hands slinking around your body and dipping between your hips and thighs to find your soaked and throbbing core. You moan when his fingers explore the familiar area, teasing and dipping and caressing. Your hips move with him and, in turn, allow you to rub against him until he’s panting against your skin.

“I want it, Eds.” You pant. Eddie hums as he sinks a finger into you, your legs instinctively spreading more beneath him. “Yeah?” He hums, and you nod your head against the pillow. “I wanna taste you first.” He responds, pressing a kiss to your temple. You whimper when his finger ticks up against your spot, thighs twitching in pleasure. “Can I taste her, princess?”

You nod desperately, “Yes,” you pant, “Yes, please. It’s yours, Eddie.”

Eddie’s fingers slip from your core, and he slinks down your body, smattering wet kisses all over your back as he goes. Your heart races as he presses one last kiss to the bottom of your spine before gently tapping your hip. You raise onto your knees at his kind instruction, opening yourself and presenting all you have to him. Eddie groans, hands smoothing over your ass and squeezing the warm flesh before parting you open for his gaze. You whimper at the vulnerability but find yourself clenching in excitement anyway.

Eddie leans forward and kisses the spot where your cheek meets your thigh, “You’re so pretty, baby.” He presses another wet kiss to the other side as his fingers slide through the messy and sticky expanse of your cunt. “So perfect,” He kisses you again. He keeps playing with you as his other hand squeezes the dip of your hip and thigh, “All mine?” He says. You squirm and nod, voice needy and small as you reply, “All yours.”

Eddie leans forward, tongue warm and wet as he drags it up the length of your pussy. You moan loudly, fingers curling into the sheets as he palms each of your ass cheeks and immerses himself in your heavenly waters. He’s calculated with it, soft and languid strokes paired with toe-curling suckling moments over your clit. He moans against you, nose pressing against your ass as he laps at every inch of you.

He parts from your dripping wet folds with a soft gasp, and you moan as his fingers go back to playing with your clit. He smears sticky kisses over the flesh of your ass and thighs, mumbling sweet praises and words as you whimper his name, “M-more, Eddie, please.” You slur.

“I want you to cum on my tongue.” He softly says into your skin, fingers dipping into your pulsing center. You gasp, squeezing his fingers as your legs quiver. “Can you give me that, sweetheart?” He asks.

You nod, wriggling back into his touch, and Eddie hums in appreciation before diving back into you. He slips his fingers from your cunt to hold your hips still for him, wet fingers digging into your skin as his tongue drags through your folds. You gasp when he licks one long journey from your clit to your ass, and Eddie hums as you shiver. He’s a tease, never giving you the rest of what you want as he goes back to devouring your pussy. You don’t mind though because soon, Eddie has you seeing stars.

The feeling is all-encompassing, a lick of fire rolling over your entire body as you quiver and shake in his hold, position faltering until Eddie has to hold you up with a hand pressed to your pelvis.

He keeps going until he’s had his fill and lets you gently fall onto the soft covers in exhaustion. He watches your back rise and drop in heavy breaths and leans over to kiss the middle of your spine. You hum, hips rising to meet his, and he smiles against your shoulder as his fingers wrap around your hips. “Flip over; I wanna see you.”

You’re an angel, Eddie thinks.

Your eyes are clear and blissed out when you look at him, lips swollen and tinted from biting and licking them in your depths of pleasure, and there’s a thin sheen of sweat over your body that makes Eddie’s brain short-circuit. Your hands drag over his arms and his shoulders, softly pushing in an indication that you want to switch. Eddie doesn’t protest, hands finding your hips as you both swap positions so you can straddle him.

You can feel the heavy weight of his cock against the inside of your thigh when you lean in to kiss him, and it makes you squirm. You want nothing more than to lift your hips, line him up, and sink down onto the length of his cock, but you want to taste him first. You want him to feel loved, to feel needed and wanted.

You kiss as much of him as you can on your way down to your destination between his thighs— with the anticipation and excitement bubbling in your gut, they’re more sloppy and needy than intended to be— but Eddie seems to enjoy it, considering the pearly white smear of cum already leaking from his tip.

You smile, settling on your stomach and wrapping your fist around his cock, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to the tip. Eddie moans, reaching out to rest a hand on the back of your head as you wrap your lips around him, softly sucking and licking.

You take him slowly, warm mouth sinking over every inch of him until he reaches the back of your throat. Eddie always loses his wits when your mouth is wrapped around him, and most of the time, it doesn’t take much before he’s thrusting up and fucking your throat, but tonight Eddie only wants to sink into the euphoric pleasure. You’re all around him; the smell of you is on the sheets, the taste of you on his tongue, the feeling of your warm mouth dragging over every inch of his cock, your nails softly scratching up his twitching thighs. Eddie thinks he might be in heaven.

He won’t last much longer if you keep sucking him this good, so he tugs you off his length, wrapping a fist around himself as he looks down at you with low eyes, “Come here, baby,” He pants, “Come sit on it.”

You were eager to have the taste of his cum on your tongue, but your empty core clenches at the thought of Eddie filling you to the brim, so you crawl your way back to straddling him.

Eddie kisses you feverishly, letting go of his cock to grasp at your waist as you settle over him. You gasp when his cock slips against the wetness of you, and your hips rock against him, arms wrapping around his shoulders as you press your bodies together. “F-fuck,” Eddie stutters. He wraps an arm around your middle, aiding your movements as you grind against him. Eddie’s lips dust across the warm skin of your shoulder, and he softly kisses the area. You whimper, nuzzling your face against his neck as you whisper for him to put it in.

Eddie reaches a hand between you both, and you lift your hips so he has room to grasp himself. He languidly strokes his tip up and down your pussy before lining himself at your entrance. You wriggle yourself down onto him, moaning when his tip slips in.

“Oh fuck,” Eddie moans, fingers tightly gripping onto your hips, “Take it all the way in, baby.” He presses encouraging kisses across your neck and jaw.

You whine when you finally have all of Eddie pressed into your cunt, your pussy fluttering around the base as he stretches you. You shift your hips and whimper, “Feels so good, Eds.”

Eddie runs his hand up your back, caressing your body as he subconsciously shifts his hips up, bullying his cock deeper into you. You lean in to kiss him, and it’s not the best kiss you’ve ever given, but it’s filled with nothing but soft appreciation for the man beneath you. “I love you.” You remind him, hot lips brushing over his as you speak. Eddie’s cock twitches within your walls, and you pulse around him. “I– fuck,” Eddie doesn’t get to finish his sentence because the drag of your velvet walls on his prick is mind-numbing.

You sink back onto him and hum, “You love me, Eds?” You softly say into his neck. Eddie nods quickly and desperately, heavily swallowing as you lift again. “Yeah. Yeah— fuck. I love you, baby. So much.” He breathlessly pants, choking on a moan when you slide down his cock with a sinful grip.

You’re overwhelmed with pleasure, your mind becoming a blur of sensations, and Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. You whine, wriggling your hips against his, and Eddie coos as he pulls you in tighter. “Need me to do the work, princess?” He softly offers, a gentle hand petting back your hair. You nod against his shoulder, grinding down onto him and pulsing. Eddie sinks lower into the bed to plant his feet on the mattress, causing him to inch deeper into your cunt. “Ah,” you moan, “Yeah. Yes— give it to me, please.”

Eddie doesn’t waste another second, smoothing his hands over your sides and thighs before situating his grip over the globes of your ass to begin thrusting into you at a steady pace. It’s deep and slow, and every single thrust is the right angle, and he has you moaning and grasping onto his shoulders for dear life because “I’m gonna cum.”

Eddie’s head drops back onto the sheets, eyes shut and lips parted as your wet lips smear across his shoulder and neck with each thrust. “Let me feel it, princess, come on.” He encourages.

Your toes curl, and your body tenses as you topple over the edge, spiraling into the warm pool of pleasure. You’re moaning Eddie’s name as he presses his lips to your temple, mumbling how much he loves you and pumping himself to the top of his climax. “Inside, Eddie. Do it inside.” You softly gasp.

Eddie presses into you with a deep groan, pumping his entire load into you. It’s a familiar feeling, having Eddie cum in you, but he’s so deep, and he’s holding you so tightly that your chest squeezes with so much love for him, and you barely notice your eyes welling with tears until Eddie’s shifting back to lift your face. His eyes soften, like he already knows what you’re feeling, and he softly kisses you until you melt into him.

You’re fragile like this, and Eddie knows, so he doesn’t even think of untangling himself from you until you softly sigh, nuzzling your head against his neck and shifting your hips. Eddie groans, dropping a hand to squeeze at your hip in warning of his sensitive cock. You mumble a soft apology, and Eddie brushes it off with a quick peck.

And in a very loved and typical Eddie-fashioned way, he breaks the quiet and soft atmosphere with a sudden question, “So,” he clears his throat, “What were you gonna do with the panties if we didn’t win the Oscar?"

509 notes · View notes

lewisyellowhelmet · 6 months

Text

pursuit of happiness

lewis hamilton x actress!reader

summary: 18+!!!! general m/f s*x acts. reader is a well known actress with a recent scandal, who escapes to lewis for some peace.

read everything else here!

In Singapore, the heat clings to her. Even in the airport, with her sunglasses on, head down, overly focused on the boots of the security guard in front of her who steps a path through the crowd, she can feel the humidity. The flashes of the cameras makes her ears ring, a threatening headache quickly becoming ominously real.

She remembers when this onslaught made her giddy, when she would try and meet everyone's eye, smile, shake hands. Always new places, always new people. The shame of walking with her face lowered, crowded in by looming men, makes her want to be sick. Still, the questions screamed at her have long become too prying, the autograph hunters too needy, the photographers too scary.

The car is waiting for her, sleek and black. She’s hustled from the opening doors of the terminal, into the warm bath of tropical air, and then into the air conditioning, leather seats. The door slams behind her, enclosing her in the cab, and the driver is already pulling away, leaving a throng of people half spilling out into the road after her. She knows what they want. She won’t give it to them.

The hotel room is empty. But there are leftover parts of him. A used towel in the bathroom. A watch next to the beside table, silver and chunky. There’s a yoga mat on the balcony. Her phone is buzzing, maddeningly. She has a sudden urge to throw it off the building. She puts it in the mini fridge instead, on silent. The king bed is expansive, crisp and white. The air in the room is cool and artificial, whirring reliably in the ceiling. When she crawls into bed, the sheets still smell like him. He sleeps on the left, and she tucks his pillow into her body, imagines the feel of his skin on hers, the rustle of his hair, the press of his hand. She falls asleep, bathed in bright sunlight.

When she wakes, the room is dark, and there’s someone walking around. She is not unused to strangers in her space, interfering with her things, minders and assistants and stylists. If she snoozes her alarm too many times, someone will always come in, open the blinds, waft a coffee under her nose. But this person is sitting beside her now, covering her hand with their own, warm and solid. She blinks open sticky eyes. Lewis is smiling, reaching to stroke the hair off her face. It’s a new colour, bleached and cut short, for the new part that will start filming next week.

“It’s quarter past seven,” Lewis says. He always wakes her with the time. A way to centre herself, to adjust. It’s fifteen minutes past seven here, in Singapore, where she is, with him. Her mouth feels dry, her tongue thick. Her limbs are lazy.

“How long have you been here?” She says, slurring her words.

“Only a few minutes. I’m about to go to dinner if you want to come.”

“I don’t want to go anywhere.”

Lewis looks disappointed in her, for a moment, but the expression passes off his face like it was never there. Shame curdles in her belly. The headache is still striking against her temples.

“It’s a private place, there won’t be any photographers,” Lewis says.

“But people will know.”

Lewis strokes over her head a final time, his hand solid and welcome, “Yes, probably.”

She groans, and rolls away from him, so he can’t see how her eyes are getting wet and sore. She wants to crawl deeper into the bed and never come out, never be seen by anyone else. The bed shifts as Lewis stands up.

“I don’t know how long I’ll be,” he says.

“Wait,” she says, muffled, but doesn’t remove her head from where it’s stuffed into the pillow. The fabric is getting damp around her mouth. She can’t get enough oxygen. She can feel him watching her.

When she lifts her head up, she’s breathing hard. Her headache throbs.

“Let me get dressed,” she says.

The restaurant is at the bottom of the hotel, easily accessible to the public, but the host guides them to a private room that has windows into an enclosed garden, a water feature trickling. Lewis is handed a completely vegan menu. She doesn’t feel hungry at all, it’s the middle of the night in L.A., and orders a vodka soda.

“He said the marriage was over,” she says, when she can’t hold it in any longer. Lewis is chewing polenta. He looks at her for a long time. He’s ordered an expensive bottle of red wine, which she knows she will drink most of.

“Did you believe him?” He asks, eventually. She stares at the three scallops in front of her, picturesque on their clean pink shells.

“Yes,” she says.

“Why?”

Her voice is sticking in her throat. She has to eat a scallop so she doesn't start to cry.

“I guess he’s a good actor.”

Lewis laughs, and she has to smile. The ice in her vodka soda rattles as she sucks down the last of it.

“How did it start?” Lewis asks.

She thinks about saying she doesn’t want to talk about it, that it’s too hard, but his expression is earnest and his eyes are dark and liquid and she wants to dive into them, curl up around his pupil and rest there.

“We went out in Rome one night. The other actors and crew as well, but everyone started to head back and we went to this bar in the old city. He touched my knee. He was so nice and interested in me and he promised that he didn’t even live with her anyone, they just pretended so the kids would’t have to deal with the media. He even said the kids were fine with it, everyone was happier now. We walked back to the hotel. He invited me to his room for a drink. I wanted to go, you know. I wanted him to ask me.”

She has been telling most of the story to the garden and it’s fountain. It’s hard to look at Lewis. He listens carefully.

“We slept together every night of the shoot after that. We tried not to let it show on set but it was pretty obvious. One weekend we went to Venice, and the photos. I’m sure you saw them. It was fucking everywhere. I was so angry at him for letting it happen but of course he had no control. No one does. His wife called. We couldn’t leave the hotel because there were so many photographers. Somehow people even got in so I couldn’t leave the room. The security from Rome had to come all the way out and get us. Then his wife somehow got my number.”

She hasn’t been able to delete the texts yet. She’d read them on the flight to Singapore even, scrolling through. The marriage, it seemed, was not over.

“Anyway, we finished the shoot. I went back to L.A., he went to London. He called a few times but. It wasn’t the same. I couldn’t stop thinking about his kids. How much they must hate me. Still,” she shrugs, and tries to smile, but imagines it as ugly and painful, “good press for the movie, I guess.”

The waiter has come in, discreet, and pours her a glass of wine, clears their entrees. Her throat feels sore and thick. Lewis is quiet, thanks the man.

“Why did you come here?” He asks, after the door has shut with a muffled sound, and it is just them, the wine, and the trickling water.

She laughs, but it sounds wet.

“I have no idea. You offered. I needed to get away from L.A.”

He sips his wine, and she forgets to look away when his tongue darts out to smooth over his bottom lip as he puts the glass down.

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” he says, calm and steady. The sympathy makes her stomach turn over.

“Don’t say that, it’s my own fault.”

Lewis shakes his head, and looks so sad she has to pick up her own glass, take two big mouthfuls, let it stain her mouth.

“How’s the season going?” She asks, to change the subject. He sighs. The waiter comes back in with their mains. Somehow they begin talking about something else, careful guided away from both her affair and F1. She almost manages to forget whats happened.

She stands in the elevator facing so she can watch the numbers climb up as they soar into the sky. The food has pushed the headache momentarily away, and the alcohol is making her loose limbed. Lewis touches her waist gently as they leave the elevator and begin the short walk down the corridor to his suite. Only when he unlocks the door and steps aside for her to go in first does she remember to say, “Did you want me to get my own room?”

“Don’t be stupid,” he says, “Old friends, right?”

She laughs as she follows him in, “Sure, old friends.”

They finish the bottle of wine on the balcony, the heat still thick and clinging. The city moves around them, engines revving, lights changing. She throws her bare legs over his lap, and he strokes her shin, the callouses on his palm soothing. They talk aimlessly, small jokes, old gossip. She wonders if her phone has frozen in the minifridge yet. Which agent or manager has boarded a plane to come and collect her. Lewis starts to yawn when the moon is high, and they go back inside to the air-con.

She showers first, the water and citrus body wash sluicing the days sweat off her, remaking her, clean and new. Lewis’s toiletries are spilled over the counter. She lifts his bottle of cologne to her nose while she brushes her teeth.

When he takes his turn in the bathroom, she flips through the channels on the big television, tucked into the crisp sheets, propped up against too many pillows. The TV is the only light in the room, flickering and constantly changing. She feels exhausted, and like sleep has never been further away. She has not retrieved her phone from the fridge. They’ll find her somehow. They always do.

Lewis wears soft pyjama pants to bed, low on his hips. She's wearing one of his t-shirts. They’re wet hair tangles as she slouches into his shoulder, tucked into the crook of his armpit while they watch Singaporean news. During the entertainment portion, an image of her in her huge sunglasses at the arrival terminal pops up. She looks pale and sickly in the video. Lewis turns the television off.

“It’s okay,” she says, interrupting him saying, “I’m tired, anyway.”

“What are you doing tomorrow?” She asks, still leaning against him. His arm is around her, heavy and solid. She feel his chin against her skull.

“It’s the race. I’ll be out all day.”

“Alright.”

“When do you have to leave?”

“Whenever they come and fetch me.”

“Maybe if you stayed for the race. Came to the grid. We could make sure you get interviewed, it might distract everyone from. What’s just happened.”

She turns her face into his chest, wanting to become one of his tattoos, imprinted on his skin.

“Or not,” he says, quietly.

“I can’t think about it right now,” she says.

“Okay,” he soothes. He’s touching her hair, the wrong colour, the wrong length. She feels outside of her own body, even as she tries to cram into his. She touches his stomach, just her fingertips, scratching lower to the line of his waist, his hips bones. He says her name against her forehead, his lips brushing over her skin.

“We don’t have to,” Lewis says.

“Do you want to?”

“Of course,” he breathes.

“I want to,” she says.

She lets her head fall lower over his chest, down his abdomen so she can drag her mouth over the muscle there, kiss over his navel, the brush of hair under her mouth as she finds the waistband of his pyjamas. Lewis is sighing and twitching, his hand in her hair. The pressure is familiar, no push, just a warmth. She can feel him against her chin as she laves her tongue over his hip, already hard and wanting. His skin is goose bumped, anticipating. She never wants it to end, wants to keep him dangling on the edge, waiting and waiting.

He lifts his hips for her to wriggle his pants off him, down the muscle of his thighs, the curve of his knees. Lewis grabs at her (his) t-shirt, pulling it over her head and off so he can sweep his hands over her shoulders, cup her breasts in his hands, smiling dopely at her as his thumbs swipe over her nipples, make her gasp. His cock stands red against his belly, leaking wet. She lowers her head to lick up the length of it, suck him into her mouth, salty and hot. He groans, and his hands tangle in her hair, guiding her rhythm. It’s so easy to fall back into it, remembering him, one hand around the base of him, the other against his hip, bracing herself. He keeps her hair out of her face, mumbles nonsense to her, about how good she is, how amazing it feels. She pulls off to drool over him, let him see the mess he’s made, lick kitten like at the swollen tip. Lewis moans, instinctual from his chest.

“Baby,” he says, hips knocking up unconsciously, “Baby, please.”

“What do you want?” She asks, her hand slicking up and down the length of him, the sounds lewd.

“I want you. I just want you. So badly, please.”

“Where do you want me?”

“Anywhere,” he’s grinning, mouth wet, cheeks flushed, “Anywhere.”

She sits herself up on her knees, and he whines as she lets go of him, takes his face in her hands. He kisses her messy and desperate, his tongue between her teeth. He drags at her hair, and the tingling pain of it makes her groan into him.

His hand between her legs, stroking, spreading her wetness. She has to stop kissing him to breathe, their noses knocking together, dropping her head into the crook of his shoulder to pant as he slips a finger into her, another, crooks them just right and fucks her with his hand.

“I know,” he croons, as she shudders against his chest, “I know, feels good, huh?”

“Yes,” she gasps, meeting his hand with her hips as an orgasm curls in her belly, “It’s s’good.”

“Come for me, baby,” he whispers against her ear, his mouth hot. She keens and falls limp against him, sat half in his lap as she comes, his hand trapped between her legs. Her body keeps rocking unconsciously against him as she settles, breathing in the smell of him, feeling the pulse of his jugular against her mouth.

Lewis soothes her, kissing the side of her face, the line of her bare shoulder, his fingers still tucked inside her. She can feel the way their skin is sticking together with sweat already. She doesn’t mind it.

She reaches between them, where he’s resting against the inside of her thigh, hot and stiff, flinching when she rubs her thumb over the tip.

“You want me?” She asks, can’t look him in the eye, her head under his chin.

“Yes,” Lewis breathes, fucking into her hand, “Always.”

She shifts, gets her leg over his hip so she’s hovering above him, nudging the head of his cock against herself, teasing. Lewis is breathing hard, his chest shiny, his shoulders big. He’s watching her with big, dark eyes. When she lets him inside, he curses. Fists curling into the bedsheets.

It feels otherworldly, having him slip into her, thick and long and good. Fills her up in a way she can never explain. It knocks the breath out of her. Her knees press into his hips, her head drooping down to press her forehead against his. His mouth is open, pink and bitten.

“Oh my god,” she rasps, pulling herself up and down again. He slides deeper the second time. Lewis groans, and screws his eyes shut. His big hands find her waist, grabbing at her bum, helps her lift herself and drop down, finding a rhythm.

“Oh, fuck,” he pants, “Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, oh, fuck.”

She loses the strength to speak, lets him fuck up into her, her arms around his shoulders. She cries out when he moves, stays inside her as he lays her out on her back, pulls her legs out and wide so he has the space to drive into her, keep her there, half crying and writhing. It’s so good it blinds her.

“Is that what you wanted? Is this what you needed?” Lewis is asking her, he’s slowing down so she feels every thrust, right to the core of her. She struggles to prop herself up on her elbows, watching where their bodies meet, a perfect coupling, his hips knocking into hers.

“Yes,” she tells him, grabbing at the muscle of his bicep, yanking him down so she can kiss him, still telling him yes, yes, yes.

She comes again, flat on her back, her knees over his shoulders, adrift in the ocean of him, trusting him to fuck her through it, go easy on her when she starts to shake.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs, bent low over her, his mouth by her jawline, “You’re okay, you’re so good, you feel so good.”

She holds onto him, anchored by him in the swathe of bedsheets, in the mess of her life.

“Please,” she asks, wrapping her legs around his waist, urging him in closer, deeper. She does’t know what she’s asking for. To keep going? To save her? To take her far away?

Lewis’ movements hasten, an urgency to him as he lets go, his thumb holding her mouth open so he can pant the same air. She twists her hand into his braids, holds him there, gazes up at him as he pushes into her, again and again. His face goes euphoric, and she holds him tight against her as he comes, not looking away from her, his eyes dark and endless.

She doesn’t sleep. Lewis breathes slow and deep, his arm over her stomach. She watches the city, curtains left open, and tries not to think about her phone in the fridge. The effect of the wine is ebbing, and everything feels starkly real and horrible again. Her legs are sore from the weight of Lewis bending her, having her, but it’s a good pain, a reminder that she has used her body. She finds herself touching his hand, his fingers, the metal of his rings. She could stay in the hotel room forever, if she wanted. Pass the time rotting away until he returned for next years race, and the next, and the next. Never take her phone out. Swim in the infinity pool. Order room service. She turns her face from the skyline, away from the daydream.

Lewis is angled towards her, young and ethereal in sleep. His lips are parted, jaw relaxed. She wants to kiss the very tip of his nose. It used to be like this all the time. When the television show had summer breaks, and she could just go wherever he was. Follow him around like a dog, panting at his heels. But then the breaks were filled with other projects, and then she was so busy there wasn’t even time for the show. Standing for the applause at Cannes with an empty seat beside her. Not being able to reach him for hours after because the race was delayed. Holding that heavy award in her hand, looking out over a sea of cameras and her peers, trying to call him as soon as she was off stage and it ringing through ten times before she gave up.

The man she’d had an affair with had asked her about Lewis. If he had to be half mad to drive the car around and around in circles that fast. Only a quarter mad, she’d said, and changed the subject. It felt wrong to hear Lewis’ name in his mouth. They accessed two different parts of her. Even in the middle of it, she knew the man was only activating something primal and childish in her, a lavishing of attention that made her feel special. Lewis, rather, made her see the worst sides of herself, encouraged her to turn and face them. He would dig under her skin, lift scabs, push her forward even when she wanted to go back.

It’s difficult to wake in the morning. The sky is grey and low, rain patterning the window. Lewis is naked, digging through his jeans to find his phone that’s ringing an endless alarm. She rolls over onto the side of the bed he’s vacated. When he returns, the phone silenced, he slides into what little space she’s left, arranging her limp body half on top of him. He’s soft and close and warm. She tucks her face into his shoulder, breathes him, thinks about baring her teeth and biting.

“I have to be out in fifteen minutes,” he tells her, his voice rumbling through his chest. She whines and clings like a child.

“You can’t distract me today,” Lewis says, but his voice is soft and concerned, “I have the race.”

“When?”

“Tonight.”

“I might be gone by then.”

She feels him sigh, her head rising and falling with his chest.

“Well, try not to be,” he says.

Maybe she can get one more day. If she hides, if she doesn’t answer her phone.

“Should I come?” She asks, half hidden by his neck. He goes still, but his voice is calm and measured.

“If you want to. I’d like that.”

“If people see you and me together. You know what they’ll say.”

He laughs, and she lifts her head up to see the way his eyes shine and crinkle, “Let them say it.”

She kisses the corner of his mouth, and then the other side. He’s smiling.

“I have nothing to wear,” she says. Lewis rolls his eyes.

“You have all day to find something.”

“I can’t go out.”

“Why not?”

She frowns at him, “They’ll see me.”

“Who? The paparazzi? The crowd? Who cares. It’s done now. The only thing you can do now is keep going.”

She sits up, and off him. The sheets fall from her chest and she watches Lewis try not to stare at her tits.

“That’s a bit harsh,” she says.

“It’s the truth.”

The alarm starts going again, vibrating across the carpet, forgotten next to his jeans. Lewis throws the covers off, and makes for the shower, snatching the phone off the floor on his way. She sits back against the pillows, turns to watch the rain. The only thing you can do now is keep going.

She tells only who needs to know that she’s going to the race. The heat is heavy and palpable. Her feet hurt in the heels, but the dress is cool where it swishes around her ankles. Someone knew someone who knew a stylist in the city, and a hair and make up artist was quick to be summoned to the room.

“Just make me look good,” she’d told them, and then sat quietly, let them prod and poke at her until when she looked in the mirror again, she saw no-one. A facade. An actress. The Rubik’s cube of herself she could present to the world. She smiles. She retrieves her phone from the mini fridge.

She likes the beat in time when people realise it’s her, and before they lift their phones to take a photo. A swell in time, like the lip of a wave about to crash. Then there’s screaming, camera flashes, people calling her name. She lifts her chin and keeps moving, guided by a man in a Mercedes shirt. She refuses to think about how much the pictures will sell for to the magazines, or about twitter threads, or even what the pit crew lean to whisper to each other. Lewis is waiting for her in the garage. She has pride of place. There are more cameras on them then the track. His suit is pushed to his hips, and she can see the thrill gleam in his eyes. She smiles. She does not look at the cameras. She lets him take her into his chest. She is the one who looks up at him, and kisses him.

Let them see. Let them all see.

#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton smut #f1 smut #lewis hamilton imagine #*

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maggiecheungs · 1 year

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lookwa pijika as jam || moonlight chicken

#lookwa pijika #moonlight chicken #lakornladies #moonlightchickenedit #thaidrama #thai actress #ellisgifs #m word

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burrowbaddie · 3 months

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Trust

Joe Burrow x Female Reader

Series Summary: You, one of the top actresses in the world find yourself falling for the unbelievably attractive quarterback, Joe Burrow. But as Joe falls faster he finds that everything isn’t so golden about the world’s golden girl.

Acts: 5/?

Status: Ongoing

Please read the warning careful for this chapter. Proceed with caution; some content could be triggering!

Warnings: female!reader, smut, swearing, oral (m&f receiving), vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, taking plan b, mentions of toxic past relationship, age gap between ex and reader, mentions of past abusive relationship,

Act 5 Summary: You and Joe come to an abrupt end. With no more fight left in you, you decide to march to your own beat.

Word Count: 6.4k

Series Masterlist

You sit nervously, biting your lip, waiting for the doorbell to ring. Joe is away at training; you encouraged him to go and give you some space to collect your thoughts, but right now, you could use his strength. You stand up and start pacing, unsure how to bring it up. You told your father to come over for the weekend to catch up and only explained briefly in the conversation. You figured it would be easier to tell your father first, plus you wanted to speak to him about your mother. Yeah, you decided to lay it all all in one go. The sound of your doorbell snaps you back. It's now or never. This is your first step towards freedom from Jackson. You make your way to the door and swing it open, greeted by your giant of a father. He scoops you up and squeezes you.

"You never invite me over. Am I going to be a grandfather?" He jokes, putting you down. Your heart cracks a bit more at the thought of telling him you can't have children.

"Where's Joe? Am I going to have a little footballer grandson who plays for the Bills? Me and your brother already-Sweetie, hey hey, why are you crying?" Your father calms himself, taking your hand in his. You try to wipe your tears, but they flow endlessly. Your father follows you to the living room, where you try to gather your thoughts, but the tears won't stop. You're hyperventilating, and your father is quick to be by your side, holding you.

"Did Joe do something to you? Where is he?" Your father is quick to his feet, and you grab his hand.

"Joe is fine. It's nothing with him. It's-" You touch your throat, unable to say his name. Your father sits down and gently holds your hand.

"Talk to me, sweetheart. What's going on?"

"Mom lives out here. I ran into her, " you whisper, deciding to take the lesser blow for now. Your father sighs and rubs his head.

"I know."

Your head shoots up at your father's confession.

"What do you mean?"

"Your mother contacted me a few months ago. I knew she lived here but didn't know you ran into her."

"Did she ask about me?"

"She did. She said she was so proud of you. She has been watching you from the start of your career."

"She has two other daughters now. She's a terrible person, and I don't want her in my life." You stand up, wipe your face, and begin pacing. Your father sits with his hands clasped together, staring at the floor.

"Dad, why aren't you saying anything? Don't tell me you forgave her! " you shout.

"We have talked over things, and we are moving forward."

"What does that even mean? You forgive her. Now, you guys will hold hands and run off together?"

Your dad's silence is loud. You're shocked at this revelation and unable to process a thing.

"You're together again?"

"We're talking. She's divorcing her husband and-"

"She abandoned you! She left us like we were nothing!" You shout, throwing your hands up.

"She was my first love. If you had a chance to be with your first love again, wouldn't you?" Your father asks calmly. You chuckle darkly, throwing your head back.

"My first love has ruined my life for the last ten years." You storm out of the room just as Joe enters the living room. He sets his bag down and chases after you.

"Honey-"

"How can he talk to my mother right now? What she did to us is unforgivable!" You scream and cry. Joe embraces you, trying to calm you down. There's a knock at the door, and you pull away from Joe, allowing your father to enter.

"I have nothing to say to you right now. Joe will show you to the guest room. Thank you." You walk away, slamming the bathroom door behind you. Your father follows Joe out of the room and back downstairs.

"I thought I knew my daughter pretty well. Who is her ex?" Your father asks Joe. Joe lifts your father's bags and sighs. It isn't his place to tell your father everything about Jackson.

"It's up to her to tell you, sir," Joe replies respectfully. Your dad nods his head.

"Was it someone famous? Can you at least tell me that?"

Joe looks over to the steps where you're standing now. You're upset about your mother, but you have to tell your dad.

"Jackson. After Karen moved me to LA for my career, I started seeing Jackson shortly after." You whisper. Your father turns around to face you. You do your best to read his face, but he reveals many different facial expressions in those few seconds.

"I'm sorry, daddy." You whisper. Your father is in front of you, holding you in his arms as you break down.

"What are you sorry about? It's me, I'm the fool." Your dad walks you to the sofa, where you sit down and prepare yourself to tell your father everything. Joe gives the two of you space and decides to go take a shower.

"I started dating him after I turned 18. He was everything to me. It didn't take long for him to show his true colors. He started being controlling, and I blamed it on being my mentor and the stress with the business. I found out that after my 19th birthday, I was pregnant, but my career had just started, so I had an abortion. I thought it was only an abortion until a few days ago; I found out Jackson paid my doctor to tie my tubes." You can't bring yourself to look at your father. Your father tried his best to process all the information silently.

"I-I'm stunned." Your dad finally replies.

"I thought I could be free of him. I did my best to hold on to hope for these last few years because of the stupid contracts, but Jackson won't stop. He won't leave me alone. I spent seven years locked in fear of Jackson; through all the mental, emotional, and physical abuse, I stayed because I thought that was my life, but finally, I'm stronger now. I'm telling you this now because I'm going public about Jackson's abuse, and I'm taking him to court. I thought it would be best to say it to you first rather than hear it on the news."

"I wish you would have told me sooner. I didn't know any of this was happening to you. I should've put two and two together. I should have been smarter. I should have known when you stopped coming to visit. He took you away from us. No, I practically gift-wrapped you to him. It's my fault for being so fucking naive. I trusted this guy and-"

"Daddy, it's not your fault. I made my decisions. I-"

"He put his fucking hands on you! I sent you to LA, and I knew the culture of Hollywood. I read stories about things like this, but I never….I never thought for once you could fall victim. It's my fault. You suffered all this time, and it's my fault. I wondered why Jackson was contacting me these last few months. I'm a fool. He knew…Oh god."

"Daddy, it wasn't-"

"The business was failing. I was in debt and didn't want to ask you for money. Jackson offered, and I accepted it. He owns half the business now."

Your breath is caught in your throat. You're unable to move from your sitting position as your father starts rambling and pacing. This is why you never went public. This right here. Jackson threatened your family over and over and over again. He promised he would ruin their lives if you left him, and now it's started. Jackson got to your father before you could. It's all your fault. You stopped being close to your family. You lost all contact with them all those years. You just started to build things up again, but Jackson was one step ahead of you as always.

"Dad…I-"

"I'm so sorry. What kind of fucking father lets his 17-year-old daughter move to Hollywood alone and for the last ten years be-"

"Dad! I'll handle it so-"

"No. I'll handle it." Your father cuts you off.

"Mom is working for Jackson. Her firm is representing him." You finally say. Your father freezes up. This time, you make eye contact with him.

"She-She wouldn't do that if you tell her he-"

"They met me together. She knows what is happening, and she chose her side."

"She only knows his side because he is her client. Honey, if we tell her she will-"

"What? Protect me? She hasn't done that since the day I was born."

Your father shakes his head at all this news. You don't even know where to start. Jackson owns part of your father's business. Your father built his construction business from the bottom up, and now, with Jackson involved, this will only further go to Hell for you.

"I'm sorry. This is my fault for being gullible. I can't imagine what you've been through, sweetheart, but I promise I will make it right."

"You can't dad. I have to do this alone. If you get involved, Jackson will ruin your business and-"

"The business doesn't matter. You are my daughter. I failed at protecting you before, and I won't fail again." Your father pulls you into a hug as Joe appears. You break apart and let your father settle in his room while you and Joe talk in the kitchen. You tell Joe the news your father shared with you about the company.

"I'll buy Jackson's half. Let's ask Janet and Alex to put that in the agreement." You state, holding onto Joe. Joe calls Janet, Alex, and Eliza over.

"Before we can do anything, I want to talk to Jackson. Alone."

"I don't think that is a good idea." Eliza steps in, looking at Joe for backup. Joe takes your hand.

"We have to let her make her own choices. I'm going to support her no matter what. Let her do it." Joe replies. You give him a soft smile. After a few more talk-throughs, you end the night by checking on your father. He states that he wants you to speak to your mother so that she can hear your side. You tell him that isn't an option yet. You return to your bedroom and cuddle next to your boyfriend. You both know the road ahead will be challenging, but as long as you have Joe, you know you can do it.

You sit across Jackson and take a deep breath.

"I want to buy back your half of my father's company, " you say flat out. Jackson throws his head back, laughing.

"And why would I do that?"

"Because I'm pressing charges against you, Jackson. Everything that you have done to me will be brought to light. I am giving you the chance to fix things."

"You're not going to win. Get that through your head. Come back to me, and all of this can stop. It's your word against mine. I need you to think this through. You have no proof." Jackson chuckles.

"I-"

"I will ruin your brother's life. Aaron? Is it? Your youngest brother, right? Just getting his name out in the entertainment world, right? I will have him fucking blacklisted." Jackson threatens.

"Why are you doing this to me, Jackson? What did I do to you?"

"Come back to me, and this can be over. Your father…the rest of your family. I will leave them alone. Joe included."

You bite your lip and look around the room. A few feet away, Karen is urging you to agree to the terms.

"I want to be happy." You whisper, holding back tears. Jackson reaches over and touches your hand.

"I can make you happy like I did before. I'm different. I've changed. Let me show you." Jackson rubs the back of your hand. You shake your head.

"Joe…I love him." You finally let the words come out of your mouth. You love Joe, and it's taken you forever to say the words in fear of what your future would look like with him. But you know now that your future with Joe is as bright as the stars. Jackson starts laughing.

"No. You have no idea what you're saying right now. I have given you everything I have. I have loved you from the moment we met. You promised your life to me. Marriage kids…All of that is our future."

"I can't have kids anymore! You made sure of that! I will never come back to you. My family is stronger than you think. I've told them what you've done to me and what to expect moving forward. I gave you this meeting for a chance to change your ways, but you refused. My lawyers will be in touch." You grab your purse and exit the room. Karen chases after you and grabs your wrist.

"Think about what you're doing. Jackson is giving you the chance to make things right. Go back to him and protect your family. He can and will make everyone's life worse." Karen states, shaking your shoulders. You remove her grip and stare at her.

"You're such a sad woman. You continue to live in his spotlight, not seeing the good you could do by standing by my side. Jackson only cares for himself. The quicker you learn, the faster you will live a much better life, Karen. Testify against him. Win and be out from under his shadow. I'm doing this as a courtesy. You were supposed to protect me, and you didn't. You continue to let that man get away with everything. You're just as guilty as him in my eyes…But I'm giving you the chance to make up for your mistakes." You don't break eye contact and do your best to read over Karen's facial expression. You give her shoulder a few taps and walk away. Karen turns and walks back into the room to find Jackson pacing. You go to the lobby, where you find your boyfriend in disguise, just people-watching. You walk over and bend down, scaring him.

"I said I could do this alone." You whisper, pulling down his sunglasses. Joe shrugs.

"Just in case he tried anything. I wanted you to know you're not alone."

You kiss his lips and pull him up. The both of you exit the hotel. The ride back home sends your mind racing. You're sure your father has told your brothers, but you're not ready to face them yet, so you've been ignoring their calls. At home, Eliza, Janet, and Alex wait for the update. You tell them what everyone already knows. Jackson won't let you repurchase your dad's company; he refuses to settle. You give Janet and Alex the okay to file charges in California. With things in motion, you take the time to go to LA and finish some business for a week.

You giggle as you read over the text from Joe. Everyone in the room can see how much you glow at the mention of the football player. You can't wipe the smile off your face when you get called Joe Burrow's girlfriend. You're finally free to enjoy Joe in front of the world. It was a crazy mix of reactions, but for the most part, everyone is obsessed with the both of you.

"Yeah, she is finished up for the magazine spread. We will do a quick Q&A and then wrap it up." Eliza shouts on set. You text Joe a goodbye followed by a kissy face emoji. You miss him, but with his training for the upcoming season, you had to fly out and get some photoshoots done for your upcoming movie. You sit on the white sofa as your makeup artist comes and touches you up.

"So we have a special person here to help us out with this interview." The photographer announces. Your body freezes up, and you look at Eliza with horror written on your face. Jackson. It has to be Jackson. But as your special guest appears, your horror-struck eyes become filled with admiration. Joe smiles and takes a seat on the couch. Your mouth is wide open as you stare at him in complete shock. You launch yourself onto his lap as he laughs.

"Suprise, baby," Joe whispers in your ear. You lean back, and he kisses your lips.

"What's this?" You ask as Eliza hands you cards. You read over the cards.

"GQ couples quiz," Joe replies, fixing his shirt and licking your chocolate Fenty lipgloss off his lips. You cannot wipe the smile off your face as you read over the cards.

"You guys ready?" Eliza asks. You nod eagerly and sit back, wiggling in your seat. You start by introducing yourself and Joe.

"What's my favorite color?" You ask. Joe scratches his head, laughing.

"That's easy, yellow. Not too bright, like a nice mellow yellow. Not the drink." Joe laughs, replying. You nod and ding him for the point.

"What food do I love, and what food do I hate?" You ask next. Joe laughs and leans back. He takes a moment to think, and you give him a look.

"She loves lasagna, and she hates soups. Any soup she complains, but she also hates onion, but she will tear French Onion soup up, so it's like weird." Joe sits up, staring at you. You hide behind your cards, giggling.

"French onion is just too good! Okay, what's my favorite fast food, and what is my go to order?"

"You don't even eat out like that, umm, Chick-fil-A, and she always gets the Cool Wrap with extra ranch packet, a lemonade, and fries." He replies. You clap for him and tell them to give him extra points.

"He's so attentive like I barely eat out. I think I had that when we first started dating. Speaking of, how did you ask me out?"

"This is embarrassing. When we first started talking, we would send each other songs. So, I sent her Girlfriend by Charlie Puth. She messaged me and asked, What does this mean? And I replied precisely what the song says."

"What did you respond?" A guy asks off camera. You giggle behind the cards.

"Yes. I didn't send a song back because I was so shy and too busy giggling." You reply, flipping to the next card.

"What did you do for the first date?" The guy asks. You look at Joe, letting him take the lead.

"We did ABC dates for the first 26 dates; we did something corresponding to the alphabet. So, date one was an aquarium date." Joe smiles at you, shooting you a wink.

"Who said I love you first?" You ask, reading the next card. Joe leans back, laughing.

"I did. I knew I was in love with her from the first date. Without reading the little cards next to each animal, she would start this long rant about information on them. I was fascinated and had to stand back and stare at her. Although when I first said I love you, it threw her off, and she ghosted me for weeks."

"Joseph!" You giggle playfully, shoving him. Joe whispers that he loves you, and your heart flutters. You blow him a kiss and read the next card.

"How did we meet?"

"At her cousin's wedding. I knew the groom, and they introduced us, so I owe Matty a big thank you.

"Were you a fan of hers before meeting her?" The director asks. Joe nods his head.

"I was. Who isn't a fan? After we started hanging out, I did a deep dive for sure, but haha, I was always a fan. My family members are huge fans of her, so it worked out." Joe replies, licking his lips. You hide behind your cards.

"What's my favorite movie."

"Titanic."

"Ding! What's a pet peeve you have about me."

"None. I'm too in love with you. Next question."

"There has to be one. I won't get upset." You reply, waiting for an answer.

"Hmmm. She falls asleep with the TV on. I like silence. But I would do anything to keep her happy, so I don't care." Joe states, grinning.

"What's the first thing I made you to eat?"

"Man…I think it was spaghetti or something."

"Ding. That's correct." You give your boyfriend a few claps.

"What was my favorite subject in school?"

"I think English? No history. She's a history buff!" Joe replies you give him another ding for his correction.

"What's my phone number?"

"I can't say that. Are they going to beep it out?" Joe asks. The producers give him a thumbs up, and Joe gives out your phone number.

"She doesn't know my number."

"To be fair, I don't remember anyone's number." You laugh and go to the next card.

"What is your favorite thing about me?" This time, when you ask, you stare straight into those blue orbs across from you. Joe leans forward and takes your hand.

"I love everything about you. I love that our humor is the same. I love how you protect those you love. I love the way your mind works. I love your strength. I never thought I would be able to fall more in love with you, but every day, you show me that's possible." Joe rubs the back of your hand, and you look away, holding back tears.

"Give him all the points, " you jokingly state, wiping your eyes. You toss the cards and throw yourself at your boyfriend, causing the set to laugh. After you guys wrap up on set, Joe follows you back to the hotel. You guys find yourselves in bed kissing each other endlessly. Your mouth detaches from Joe's, only to breathe in and return to his lips. Joe moans into the kiss, causing you to squeeze your thighs together involuntarily.

"Take this off," Joe whispers, pulling at your t-shirt. You sit up and toss it to the floor. Joe pulls you back on top of his lap and takes your nipple into his mouth. You look down at him with glossy eyes. Joe grips your hips tightly. You hiss as he pulls back slowly on your nipple between his teeth. Joe sucks on it gently, and you rake your fingers through his hair. While Joe is busy sucking on your nipple, you move your hand down to the waistband of his briefs, releasing his cock. Joe releases your nipple and stares up at you as you start pumping him in your hand. Joe lifts you and sheaths himself entirely in you. You both sigh while you clench around his shaft.

"Fuck baby, don't do that. I'm going to cum." Joe whispers, pulling you back down for a messy kiss.

"Missed this so so much," You pull away from the kiss and lean back as Joe starts bouncing you up and down on his cock. You lean forward so that your forehead touches his.

"Yeah, you miss this. Such a good girl." Joe groans, feeling you clench around him again. He slaps your thigh, and you giggle. You bend down and capture his lips. Joe's kisses are lazy because he is too focused on bouncing you up and down his cock chasing his release. It's only been a week of separation, but your dear boyfriend desperately wanted you. Joe groans when you pull his head back by his hair. You start leaving open mouth kisses on his neck.

"I'm cumming." Joe groans as you suck on his neck. You giggle and pull back to see your handy work. Joe sighs, holding you down as you continue to milk everything he gives you. You pick yourself up and plop down on the bed beside him. Joe rolls over and stares at you. Before you got here, Joe had spent at least 15 minutes devouring you, so it was only fair he got his ending, too. You can feel his semen dripping down your legs, which makes you giggle at the sensation.

"What?" Joe asks.

"The strike started, so I won't be promoting anything. I can give all my time to you." You whisper. Joe closes his eyes.

"Do you trust me, Joseph?"

"With my whole heart."

You close your eyes and join your boyfriend in a deep sleep. The next day, you and Joe find yourselves eating out. A few fans ask for photos and autographs which you both have no problem doing. When you return to your hotel, you and Joe take a hot shower, not missing a moment to touch each other. After the shower, you take a much-needed nap. You and Joe fly back home and bury yourself in the case you are building against Jackson. You have not spoken to your father since he shared about your mother. Your brothers have tried to reach out to you, but you're not ready for that talk.

"Can you go into more detail about the Oscar night?" Janet asks, bringing you back to the present. You ignore your oldest brother's text and place your phone on the table.

"Like what?"

"Did he assault you?… Physically?" She clarifies. You take a deep breath and nod your head.

"How long do we need to do this? I have surgery today." You state changing the subject. Janet looks at Alex.

"We can end here. Are you nervous about the surgery?"

"Yes, I want it to work out. I want to be a mother, " you reply.

Alex drives you to the hospital, where Joe meets you. He kisses your lips and tells you how brave you are then you are and that he will be waiting for you when you wake up. And just like he promised, Joe was at your side when you woke up and through recovery. Before you knew it, the season started. As always, you went to the games with his family and cheered him on. You ran into Jackson once and were surprised by the outcome.

"You win. Have your team contact mine. I'll follow whatever rules you set." Jackson stated. You stared at him in disbelief.

"First, let me buy back my father's company."

"You wanted a legit deal, have your team contact mine."

"Fine." You say, turning to walk away, but JAckson's next word surprises you.

"I'm sorry."

You can't find it in yourself to turn back and face him, but hearing those exact words you heard so many times from him seems haunting. You get the courage to turn around and face him with tears in your eyes; you take a deep breath.

"This could have all been avoided. What you have done to me, I'll never be able to forgive you, so keep your apology. Your words mean absolutely nothing to me." You state sternly. Jackson chuckles and wipes his face.

"For what it's worth, I loved you. I truly loved you."

"Well, you had a fucked up way of showing it."

"Get away from her." You hear Joe's mother shout. She quickly steps in between you. Jackson nods his head and walks away. She turns around and pulls you into a hug. You and Joe had sat down with his parents and broke the news a few weeks ago. Her actions shocked you but warmed your heart.

"Are you okay? Did he say anything to you-"

"Mrs.Burrow, I'm-"

"Mom. I told you to call me mom…if that's okay." She whispers, cupping your face to wipe the tears. You smile and nod.

"Mom, I'm okay." You sniffle, and she hugs you again. You guys make your way to the game. It has been a stressful few weeks for Joe, from your surgery to losing a few games. Joe always took it so hard and blamed himself. But you were there to comfort him always. After the team won, you guys went out to celebrate. Joe's hand never left yours through the night. You sipped your drink and leaned over.

"It's been four weeks, and I got the okay from my doctor. So-"

"Check this out." Andrei holds up his phone to Joe. Joe reads the headline, and you watch his face twist. You lean over to read it yourself, your hand moving faster than you can process as you rip the phone from Joe's hand.

"Jackson and longtime girlfriend are expecting their first child…. longtime girlfriend?"

Andrei looks at Joe, confused. You hand the phone back and storm out of the party. This is why he was so uncaring. You call Janet, and she already knows. It's a complete wrench thrown in your plan.

"We should still meet him and go over the contract. He doesn't want it to get out so-"

You hang up and lean over, feeling sick. Joe comes to comfort you. You don't know if it's the news or the drinks, but you're dizzy. Joe holds your waist and steadies you on your feet. You guys leave the celebration as paparazzi snap away, screaming questions at you. You get into the vehicle and break down. Joe pulls you into his arms. In times like this, he feels so hopeless; the only thing he can give you is comfort. You cry well into the morning, and when you wake up, you suffer from puffy eyes and sore throat.

"We can reschedule this meeting if you're not up to this today," Joe states. You ignore him and continue fixing your makeup.

"Honey-"

"Just stop! I don't need to be babied. You're suffocating me!" You shout, slamming the door in his face. You didn't mean to lash out, but you're stressed. Jackson is always steps ahead of you. After you finish getting ready, you look for Joe to apologize. You find him on the phone in the kitchen. LA is not a good place for you; you want to run back to Ohio with Joe as soon as possible. Joe hangs up the phone and turns to you with a half smile.

"I'm sorry." You whisper. Joe shrugs.

"We should get going. Janet just called and said Jackson is there already…with your mother."

The bad news keeps rolling in. You guys meet at Jackson's local law firm. Janet and Alex are already there. You look over at Jackson's "girlfriend" and roll your eyes. You know her. It's someone you trained with in the past, but she never broke out as a star. You tell the ladies you will meet them inside the conference room.

"How long have you been with Jackson?" You ask her. She rubs her belly.

"Going on eight years."

You laugh and throw your head back. Courtney stares at you, not amused.

"How much is he paying you to say that? You know he was with me-"

"You're delusional. You and Jackson had a strictly professional relationship. He told me how obsessed you were."

"Court, we trained together. You saw me and Jackson together all the time. He-"

"He said you guys messed around once, and you just wouldn't back off."

"You can't honestly think he is going to treat you better? He is not sane. He will crush you until there is nothing left."

"Look, he helped your career. Be fucking grateful. I want that, too. Unlike you, I won't let him break me because we both need something from each other." Courtney says with a smile. She bumps into you and walks into the room. Jackson makes his way over.

"Courtney. Longtime girlfriend? What is wrong with you?"

"I'm sorry. What we had was fun, but you can't honestly think you were the only one. Right?" Jackson chuckles and brushes the hair from your face. He kisses your forehead.

"You made me an enemy, and I told you it wouldn't be pretty. Listen to me next time." He says before backing off and walking away. You get yourself composed before walking into the room and spotting your mother. Janet and Alex start going over your demands. Jackson agrees with them all, but you have zoned out.

"No deal." You interrupt. Everyone stops talking and looks at you.

"What?"

"You can't buy my silence. You took my voice a long time ago, but it's back. I won't let you get away with anything you did. I'll see you in court." You stand up and walk out as Jackson calls after you. Janet and Alex will follow you out. Joe waited in the care for you. You shock him when you climb into the car.

"What happened?-"

"Please just drive." You say. Joe nods and pulls out. Once you guys reach the parking garage, climb onto his lap and kiss him. Joe tries to talk between kisses but can't catch a break. He finally lightly grabs your hair and pulls you back.

"Baby? Talk to me."

"You're right. I need to speak up so other women know what kind of person he is…I'm taking him to court." You lean back and look into his blue eyes. Joe nods his head.

"I'm proud of you."

And when Janet and Alex reach your hotel, you have everything drawn up and the story released. Your comment section on IG becomes too much that you deactivate them. Joe suffers an injury, and life seems to be slapping you both down. The world was calling you a liar, and though they didn't say it to your face, some co-stars sided with Jackson. Jackson was thriving, just as you expected, until some lip reader on TikTok posted just the evidence needed. Eliza handed you her phone.

"Do you remember that day?" She asks

"Here he is telling her, fix your face before I fix it for you. And then you see her smile." The girl states, pointing out Jackson's words. Of course, you remember that night. It was Emmy night, and Jackson had screamed at you the whole way over about the dress you wore being too revealing even though he controlled every aspect of you. He chose that dress. Another tiktoker who is known for body language analyzes the same clip.

"Look how tight he grabs her wrist when she tries to walk away. Jackson Taylor is an abusive man. Hashtag, we believe you." The guy states. You continue to look through the hashtag and see that you have gained support. People believe you.

"I have to see this through. I have to be open about everything." You whisper. Your eyes drift to Joe, who is on the phone in the kitchen. Eliza follows your gaze. Once Joe is off the phone, he finds you alone in the living room, staring at the blank TV.

"Hey."

You pat the seat next to you.

"What's up?" He asks, taking a seat.

"This is going to be a long process for me. I need the space to see this through."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm moving back to LA."

"I can come to stay with you and-"

"You need to focus on healing…and in a way, so do I."

"I don't get what you're saying?" Joe nervously chuckles.

"Joe, don't make this harder than it needs to be. I can't give you all of me because he still has it. It's not fair to you or me. I have to fight him and this alone. I need my focus to be on this."

Joe stands up abruptly, scaring you for a second.

"I have been supportive. I have been the supportive boyfriend this whole time! And you're going to leave me just like that. When I'm at my weakest?"

"Stop yelling, please. I know this is frustrating, but-"

"But nothing!"

"Joe, this is hard for me too!"

"Then fight for us too? I love you. I have shown you time and time again. After everything we've been through, you can drop us like that?"

"Joe, I can't love you like you love me. I'm broken. I told you from the start. I told you. Nothing can fix me." You cry. Eliza comes from her bedroom, shocked about all the noise.

"I'm begging you to fight for us."

"I don't have any more fights left. I'm sorry, Joe." You whisper. Joe stands still, letting the silence fill the room. It's selfish. He knows it, but if he has to be selfish to keep you near him, he will become the most selfish person on the planet. But you're walking away from him. Joe can hear you saying words, but he can't understand them. It's as if you're speaking another language. Finally, Eliza brings him back.

"She's gone. She asked me to pack up her things and have it shipped to LA. I'm sorry, Joe. I'm shocked as you."

"I have to let her go. I can't be another guy that forces her to be in a relationship." Joe whispers and walks away. Eliza finds you in the car crying. She is confused by your actions, but she trusts that the both of you will find your way back to each other.

When you return to LA, rumors spread about you and Joe breaking up. People speculate that he broke up with you for obvious reasons. You keep yourself busy with Janet and Alex. Sometimes, you find yourself asking Janet about Joe. She tells you he's doing better, which is all you wanted. The hardest part about the case was getting people to speak up against Jackson. Everyone you emailed denied any involvement, even your old manager. Finally, one day, you get a visit from your old makeup artist.

"I'll testify." She states flat out. Janet smiles and nods.

"What can you bring to the table?" Alex asks.

"I was her makeup artist for two years. I can't tell you how many bruises I was paid to cover in those two years. I confronted Jackson, and he fired me. He threatened my family….when she found out she had paid me in secret for years. I've been running some of her clinics for women who are running from DV situations. I will tell them everything." Viola squeezes your hand, and you pull her into a hug.

"You helped so many women; they don't even know it. Thank you." Viola states. You are pulled into a hug and smile. Viola leaves you with Janet.

"Why didn't you tell me about the clinics? This-"

"Because they are all under Viola's name. I didn't want to have my name attached because of Jackson." You reply.

"This is huge. With her testimony, we really have something." Janet leans over the rail, looking out at the city.

"I miss him." You say, staring at the pool.

"He misses you too," Janet replies.

"He's never going to forgive me."

"He's upset, but I'm sure he would fall on his hands and knees if you walked into his door. I have never seen little Joseph so in love."

The thought makes you smile, but you know, deep down inside, Joe deserves someone with less baggage and Less damage. Because that's what you were… damaged goods. Some other guys ruined artwork. Joe could never put back the pieces.

"Your mom is here." Eliza interrupts. You take a deep breath. You were the one who called her to visit, so it's time to face the woman who gave birth to you.

it has been so longggg. I am sorry! But I am back. I am doing much better. I had a grippy sock vacation in the fall but I am feeling much better haha. This chapter sucks but we MOVE! I am getting back into the groove of writing again lol

#joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow x you #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow #joe burrow fic #joe burrow x y/n #joe burrow bengals #joe burrow smut #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow imagines #joey b #nfl imagine

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mysaintkitten · 7 months

Note

Choking Cillian Murphy 😩

(He's still dominating 😏)

Between Shoots | Cillian Murphy x fem!reader

prompt: you and cillian have a bit of fun in his trailer (NSFW!! NO MINORS!! + in this fic cillian is single and it does not reflect him as an actual person, it’s all for the sake of the fic)

WARNINGS: reader is implied to be an actress, unprotected sex (p in v), choking, implied age gap (everyone’s legal), brief use of the term “little girl”, slight dumbification (my weakness im sorry), slight praise/degradation, creampie

word count: 1.5k

cillian was meant to be your costar. that’s all. you had to work with him on a few scenes, but you had no idea that you’d end up in his trailer riding him.

“that’s it, god, gripping me so nicely.” cillian moans into your ear, smacking you harshly on the ass.

you hide your face in his neck and whimper, riding him at a rough and desperate pace.

his hands move from your ass to your hips, keeping you in place as he pounds up unto you, making you mewl loudly.

“how’s it feel, sweetheart?” he groans, his voice low but sweet, it almost felt taunting. he knows how good it feels, he knows you’re speechless from his thrusts, he just wants to hear you struggle.

“i-its, ah!” you stammer, digging your nails into cillian’s shoulder, “good-d, hmm, ‘s good ..”

you hear him chuckle breathily, “i know, can feel you dripping down my cock, darling. that cunt of yours is gonna ruin this sofa.”

he wasn’t lying. your slick had coated his cock, spilled onto his balls, and formed a small damp patch between his legs. you knew you weren’t going to be drying up anytime soon, so you feel a small wave of humiliation.

“sorry .. m sorry ..” you whimper, “been so l-long since .. since i felt this g-good ..”

he slows his pounding, slowly rocking your hips to allow you to resume riding him, you quickly pick up on his hints and he clicks his tongue,

“aw, such a sweet girl. it’s alright, doll. you know how you can make it up to me?”

cillian really didn’t mind that your arousal spilled onto the sofa, he had the money to get it deep cleaned. he could buy a brand new sofa if he wanted to, but he had something else in mind.

“hm?” you whine from inside his neck

“look at me, or i won’t let you come.” he purrs, you pull your head out from his neck to stare into his icy blue eyes.

his eyes scan you, as he brushes some stray hairs from out of your face, “pretty girl, if you want to make it up to me, you can choke me.” he hums, running his thumb along your cheek and bottom lip.

your hips movements slowly come to a stop as you catch your breath, “you want me to .. what?” you question

“no, no,” cillian tuts, “i didn’t tell you to stop.”

you pick up your hip movements again, whimpering quietly at the delicious fullness he was providing you with.

“choke me.” he raises his brows at you. you’re still a bit confused, despite him being very clear on what he wants.

“cillian, i-“ you start, before he sighs, “sweetheart, have you been fucked stupid already? what’s so hard to get?”

you whimper at his sudden change in tone, but you kind of enjoy the degrading nature of his words. in all honesty, his cock was making your mind a bit laggy.

“i’ve just .. never done it before ..” you mumble, feeling your cheeks burn a bit more than they already were.

“do i need to show you, baby? dumb it down for you to understand?” his voice lingering with feigned pity, as if his words itself didn’t make that apparent enough. you can’t respond, every nerve ending on your body felt sensitive and overwhelmed. having to ride him while listening to his degrading words and requests was becoming embarrassingly difficult for you.

he smacks your ass again to get your attention, “watch.”

you whine loudly at the strike, bringing your focus back to him.

“i’m going to make this really simple for you, sweetheart,” he hums, “place your hand here,” he brings your hand from his shoulder to his neck, “now, grip the sides, and ride me. easy enough, darling?”

you nod and grip his neck, continuing to ride him.

a fucked out grin spreads across his lips, “that’s it, good little girl,” he praises, “such a good listener.”

you blush at cillian’s approval, your thighs shaking from being sore and from your approaching orgasm.

you continue to choke him and whine, watching how his eyes switch from your face to down to your pussy, seeing himself disappear inside of you. his eyes are half-lidded as they make their way back up to your face slowly, “prettiest cunt i’ve ever seen ..” he moans, placing both of his hands into your ass to grip the flesh.

“cillian ..” you whine, your thighs are vigorously shaking at this point, “keep your hand on m’neck, baby ..” he groans before thrusting up into you again while holding you in place.

his harsh thrusts allow you to not only feel your arousal dripping around him, but you hear how wet you are, he chuckles lowly.

“hear that, hm?” cillian purrs, “hear how messy that pussy is?”

despite your hand being on his neck, continuing to choke him, he’s still dominant. you never knew how much you’d enjoy this combination.

“y-yes, mmh, ye-s!” you whine, unconsciously gripping his neck harder as you try and find some grounding during his pounding.

he moans and this thrust start to become more jagged, “good, gonna come in this pretty little cunt.”

in the moment, you had completely forgotten that he wasn’t wearing a condom. your mind too fixated on pleasing cillian while simultaneously being extremely pleased by him, it must’ve just slipped your mind.

so, you beg. you beg for him to come inside you, not worrying about the potential consequences.

“yes, please, pl-ease!” you cry, “come-e inside me, clai-m me!”, your desperation is pathetic, but it fuels cillian like nothing else.

“yeah? want me to claim this pussy? come by and ruin it whenever i like?” he growls, his mind becoming fuzzy from the lack of blood flow and the intoxicating grip of your cunt.

you whine at the thought, the idea of being a little fuck toy for cillian. his own personal fleshlight to use whenever he needed a warm and wet hole.

“yes! god, yes!” you moan loudly, anyone passing by his trailer would’ve heard. but you didn’t care, and cillian certianly didn’t care either.

your orgasm sneaks closer and closer, your pussy involuntarily clenching around him irregularly, he’s pushed over the edge, breathing heavily and groaning loudly as he shoots his hot load inside of you.

when you realize he’s come, you shakily remove your hand from his neck.

you huff and remain on his lap with his cock still inside you, running your hands along his pecs.

he brings his wrist up to his forehead and swipes some sweat off, “did y’come?” he breathes,

you shake your head no, “it’s okay, though, i can get my-“ before you can finish he’s snuck his fingers down between your legs, rubbing your neglected clit.

you whimper and clench around him again, the overstimulation making him growl.

you were already so so close, it won’t take much to make you come at this point.

“did so good .. sweet little girl, even sweeter cunt ..” he hums, smiling weakly at you while his free hand runs along your waist and thighs, rubbing your body in a calming manner.

“cillian .. cillian i’m close-“ you whimper, screwing your eyes shut as your body begins to twitch from his touches.

“i can feel it, darling, come for me.” he responds, and after a few more rubs you’re coming on his cock, covering your mouth to try and stifle the loud moans you knew would be escaping your lips.

although he wishes he could’ve heard you shout as you came, he knows it was probably the better bet to keep you quiet. people had certainly heard you two, maybe nows the time to have the slightest bit of decency.

he allows you to ride your orgasm out on his cock, gritting his teeth through the sensitivity.

once you’re done, he pats your thigh, “off, sweetheart, i’d love to keep this going, but i’m too sensitive and we’ve got another scene to shoot.”

you scoot off his lap and you’re brought back to reality. you just slept with your costar, who you’re going to have to continue to film with as if nothing happened.

he stands up and grabs a damp face cloth to clean himself off with, handing you a separate cloth to do the same.

as cillian stands there, sliding on a clean pair of boxers, you look down at the sofa beneath you and feel yourself blush at the undeniable wet stain you’ve left.

“want fresh panties?” he asks, tugging his jeans back up.

your eyes shoot back up to him, prior to the sex cillian had done an extensive amount of foreplay. you had only a skirt on, so a thin layer of fabric separated your warm core and his touches. you were soaking through your panties before he gave in and finally fucked you, so you reply “yes, please.”

he searches around the trailer briefly before clicking his tongue, “sorry, love. i haven’t gotten any. guess you’re gonna have to go without.”

your eyes go wide, “i can’t! i have to wear a skirt, cillian!”

he just grins while slipping your old panties into his bag, “you’re shooting with me, it’s nothing i haven’t already seen.”

your thighs clench at his words,

“maybe i’ll even get a glance of my come spilling out of you,” he coos, “do you think you’re professional enough to continue acting while you feel my seed dripping out of you?”

—

happy halloween (eve) to y’all who celebrate hehe !!

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x fem!reader #hope y’all like this #:)#request

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eumivrse · 2 years

Text

JUST CO-WORKERS : aki hayakawa

warning(s) public sex ? idk, but it’s balcony sex at reader and aki’s apartment lol. fwb, unprotected sex, creampie, slight spanking

word count 1,537

author’s note honestly didn’t wanna post another drabble but this has been on my drafts for months now n im having a little aki phase anywayz so hii

aki smoking that pack while giving you backshots, the morning news playing in the background, sun slowly rising across the horizons.

the air felt cool and groggy, the city still awake with lights from the long night, yet no one was outside to see your tits bouncing against the metal bar of the terrace that’s preventing you from falling over 9 stories down.

aki groaned in frustration, a cloud of smoke slipping out his nose and lips as he finally pressed the butt of his cig on the ashtray next to you , “baby, stop moving around so much, would ya?” he was literally asking the impossible judging by the way your body jolts with each thrust.

you mewl, face down to watch as some of the residents from your apartment complex exit the building and vouch for a taxi. “fuck, fuck— aki…” the molten stench of the cig was making you dizzy, enough that you were forgetting that people can hear you.

it’s definitely not the best type of noise to hear first thing in the morning for your neighbor’s sake, but you and aki have been up all night for work and are unable to fall asleep due to the adrenaline rush from killing devils so what better way to cure that than to just fuck like animals for a good night’s— or morning’s rest?

aki hunches over your shoulder, one hand squeezing your tummy while the other tilts your jaw back to meet his eyes. “ ‘m gonna need you to quiet down, alright? i want to be the only one who can hear you.” he leans in for a kiss, one that was full of lust, all wet and messy.

it’s complicated with aki, really. he doesn’t want to be in a relationship but would constantly get your hopes up whenever he’d probe you into these types of situations. the first time was when you came home after a dinner with other co-workers and a drunken kiss led to a hook up. something like this should’ve been expected as soon as you both were assigned to live in the same apartment, you just didn’t expect to like him as much as you do right now.

his cock was stretching you open, clit starting to feel cold from being deprived of touch. your cunt was so fucking wet, the sound of your slick slapping against his balls tickling aki’s ears. his hands were firm on your waist, adam’s apple prominent from his perspired neck.

the base of your ass slammed against his abdomen as you throw it back on him, his abs gleaming from the sheen of sweat and the sunlight peeking past the cracks of the buildings in front of you.

your knees were starting to give out, arms hooked around the railings of the terrace. “aki- i want you, please. please make me cum.” desperation lingered in your voice, it was comical honestly.

“hm? don’t you say the same thing when you’re with other men?”

you mewl when his tip plunged onto your g-spot. “wh-what other men?”

he scoffs, palm striking the skin of your ass and forcing a yelp out of you. “you don’t think i know? all those nights you’d invite some random loser from the bar and i have to listen to you fake your orgasm? i gotta say,” he slaps you again and grabs a chunk of your ass to grip on. “you’re a pretty good actress. but i know you, sweetheart. and i know how fucking beautiful you really sound when you cum.” he chuckles in between pants.

“why do you care so much anyways?” you yelp and aki rocks his hips vigorously, your hole starting to seep with arousal, dripping down your thighs and the curve of your ass marred with the print of his palm.

aki isn’t a chatty person at all, but you’ve been around him long enough to know that if he’s rambling like this, he’s pissed. under those nasty words of praise, his cock is bullying your insides and is risking you of getting a noise complaint.

he isn’t wrong though, you go around sleeping with other men on purpose to make him seethe in jealousy— to make him realize how much you mean to him. you intentionally exaggerate your moans for him to hear on the other side of the wall and he’s taking out the envy on you right now.

his clammy palms bruised the plump of your waist, his breathing heavy and teeth digging on his bottom lip. “because…” he punctures the same spot over and over again at an intermittent pace in between his words. “you deserve more than that.”

you grit your teeth, fists clenched while you whimpered. aki pulls out and wraps his palm around his fat cock, resting it in between your ass while jerking himself off.

he grunts, slapping his tip against the base of your back and taunting you. “so you want me to beg? is that it?” you groan.

“sure. not with that attitude though.” you couldn’t see him, but you bet he probably has that shit-eating grin plastered on his face right now.

it’s a change of pace from his usual stoic attitude.

he sneaks his hand in between your legs and teases your clit, the flat of his finger flicking you. “aki- don’t do this, shittttt…” you were starting to feel your stomach contract, sweat trickling from your forehead down your nose. the heat of the sun was starting to cower the dewy air, you turned your head, mouth quivering from the immense stimulation.

“please aki? i’ll be good to you. i’ll be a good girl for you…” it was so unnatural for you to pout as you are right now, bottom lip sticking out as you plead to him.

aki laughs, moaning while he fucks into his fist before poking his tip back in between your folds. “ ‘wasn’t that hard now, was it? ‘knew you had it in you.” he takes one of your arms and pins it on your back, a ball of his spit plopping down his cock before he snaps his hips against your ass.

his cock stretched your tight hole deliciously, thighs jiggling with each thrust. the tv’s noise and your moans was now swallowed by the honking and the engines of cars downstairs, you can practically see the whole road with your tits smashed against the railings. your arm is sore from being held behind you, slick running down your inner thigh.

“aki, fuck, cum with me, ah fuckkkkk” you curse out loud, your breathing jagged and sharp.

he stutters, grunting as he lets go of your arms and bruises your waist with his calloused hands. “w-where?”

“inside, baby. hah- ‘want you to make me yours.” he frantically slipped himself inside of you once more before fucking you full of cum mixed with your own, pulling his cock out with a pop! sound as translucent white cum dripped down your clenching pussy.

“fuck,” aki gasps and you turn around, seeing his face drenched with strands of his raven hair sticking to his forehead. he massaged your breasts, your palms cupping his cheeks and pulling him in for a longing kiss as you walk back into your shared apartment.

you hadn’t realized he was leading you to his room and onto his bed, you were too lost in his familiar lips that tasted of spearmint and cigarettes. you pulled from each other, your thumb pressing on his bottom lip.

you never slept in the same bed even after sex. it’s as if it was an unspoken rule— a boundary you should never cross.

however, this time felt different. aki got you to lay on his mattress and covered you with his fluffy comforter, the buzzing of the ac easing your sore body.

he settled next to you after putting his boxers back on, back against the headboard. “you’re free tomorrow, yes?” he asks, opening up a bottle of water from his nightstand and chugging on it before passing it to you.

“yeah duh, we’re in the same division.” you take a sip from the plastic bottle. probably not the best idea to share a drink with a chronic smoker, but you stopped caring.

aki always hated having to express his feelings especially after the tragedies that had occurred in his life. you were the only one that didn’t pity him when you found out about his past and that gave him a sense of hope.

maybe he’s not cut out for this and more so that you’re supposed to have a wall of professionalism in between you two, but to hell with all that. “let’s go on a date tomorrow.” he sighs.

“as…?” you slumped your head on his shoulder.

“as a couple, duh.” he places his nose on the top of your head, getting a whiff of your coconut shampoo.

“awh, is this your first time asking someone out?” you scoff.

“don’t make me take it back.”

“okay, okay! fine, i’ll go out with you tomorrow.” you’re being nonchalant, but nothing can express the amount of happiness bubbling up inside of you.

he hooks his arm around your shoulder and pushes you closer to him. “this means we’re dating now, right?” you whisper, pecking his jaw lightly.

“yes, babe.”

#the ending was kinda eh but wtv #aki hayakawa #aki csm #aki hayakawa smut #aki smut #csm #chainsaw man #csm smut #chainsaw man smut #aki x reader #aki hayakawa x reader #aki x reader smut #aki hayakawa x reader smut

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hannie-dul-set · 27 days

Text

AN UNLIKELY FANMEETING.

p — LEE JENO x female! reader. g — gang leader! jeno, actress! reader, humor, tension tension tension, jeno gets kidnapped by his celebrity crush, this is stupid, this is dumb, don't take this seriously. w — swearing, kidnapping, morally dubious characters HAHHAHA. 935 words.

note — happy birthday jeno. to the anon that sent the trope list curated for me, this is your fault. take responsibility. the prompt "accidentally kidnapping a mafia boss" suddenly terrorized my brain while i was studying. enjoy.

when lee jeno opens his eyes, a dull ringing in his ears, he sees nothing but the faint impression of a lightbulb burning through the sack covering his head. it’s dark. there’s an echo when he grunts and tries to move, but upon feeling the rope pressed against his wrists, the stiffness of his shoulders and the metal scratching of the chair against the rough ground— he’s quick to understand the situation he’s in.

the last thing he remembers, he was about to board a plane to japan. to spend a few months lying low after the particularly risky job his gang had to undertake not too long ago.

seems like someone managed to sniff him out before he could flee.

splash!

“wake up, you slimy son of a bitch.”

cold water hits, seeping into the fabric covering his face and crawling down to his collarbones. now, considering his line of work, jeno isn’t too fazed by this situation. he has a lot of enemies. maybe this one’s from a rival gang. could be a relative seeking revenge for a brother’s cracked skull, or some shit. doesn’t matter. he’s not gonna stay sitting for long anyway.

“did you really think you could cheat on me and run away scot free?”

cheat? the sack gets thrown off from his head, a hand yanking a handful of his hair to pull his head back and he lets out a grunt. the chair is tipped back. jesus fucking christ, that felt personal. but when the sudden illumination stops blinding him, and he can finally see who the hell had the guts to jump and kidnap him, he’s a little taken aback.

jeno has a lot of enemies. the list goes on and on.

“use your fucking mouth, bast—”

but he’s pretty sure that the darling angel of south korea’s film industry isn’t on that list.

jeno watches as the vivid scorn and disgust in your eyes slowly meld into confusion, then realization, then a slow but sure descent into panic alongside the loosening of your grip.

“oh.”

must be the skills of an award winning actress. he feels almost a hint of disappointment when you stop pulling on the roots of his damp hair.

“oh, shit. one moment.”

clang! the chair he’s tied to settles once more into the ground with a clatter, and jeno watches as you quickly secure a distance between you and him, pulling your phone out of your sweats while biting the tips of your thumbnail. it’s a little funny seeing the nation’s sweetheart pacing back and forth all jittery in what looks like a basement— maybe your basement. as far as jeno can remember, you’re always casted for romance films. those feel-good, slice of lives and the pocari sweat commercial you once did echoes in the back of his head. but maybe you have a hidden knack for some thriller.

he starts fiddling with the ropes tied around his wrists right at the moment you screech into your phone. dispatch would have a field day if they see this.

“you got the wrong guy! my ex isn’t this hot!”

his fingers slip. his skin scratches the rough threads of the rope.

“i paid you useless fucks a shit ton of money to get the job done, but you can’t even get— ugh! nevermind. just go and bring me the actual son of a bitch i asked for this time.”

the knot is almost loose. this is quite the show. it’s better than all the movies he’s seen of you.

“what?! hello?! what do you mean you can’t help me anymore, what about our—”

drop. jeno gets up from the chair. he stretches his joints, neck cracking, watching as you sputter out a trove of profanities at your phone. his clothes are still damp from the water you splashed him earlier. maybe he should have a bit of fun first before leaving. it’s not everyday that you get to meet your celebrity crush.

“hey, dollface,” he calls out. you freeze. you look at him with the drop of a needle, eyes growing a little bit wider when you realize he should be sitting down. damn, they really need to cast you in a grittier film. “you should pay a bit more attention when you have someone hostage.”

a beat of silence.

“uhm,” your voice croaks. jeno takes a step towards you. you take a step back. “listen, haha, there has been a misunderstanding.”

your steps stutter a little, moving back and back and you swallow nervously, looking at him with almost sheepishly— a sense of feigned bravery in the midst of retreat, teeth tugging on the skin of your lips. “oh, yeah?” he says, and you visibly rattle. you’re prettier like this than when you’re batting your eyes and flirting at the camera. you’re definitely prettier.

“yes, ahaha, there was a minor switch-up, you see i— i didn’t mean to...uh, escort you from the airport, i actually meant to target someone else, and— o–oh, and there’s a wall behind me. oops, haha. do you mind backing away a bit, um—”

“how about i help you with the ex boyfriend problem you have?”

the tables turn. it’s him digging his face up against yours this time, but the mention of your ex strikes a chord. you’re looking at him, gaze unbreaking. he can feel your shallow breaths on his skin.

“who are you exactly?”

“someone who can do the job better that the fuckers you sent me, definitely,” he chuckles. “how about it?”

he won’t ask for much. maybe just an autograph in return.

#jeno x you #lee jeno x reader #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #nct dream x you #nct dream sc #nct dream scenarios #nct sce #nct scenarios #jeno x reader #nct drabbles #nct au #jeno au #this is not proofread btw fuck it we ball!!!

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wlntrsldler · 4 months

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Hiiiiii!!!! I love Apple Pie by Lizzy McAlpine!! Can I get Jamie Tartt to apple pie?

apple pie | jamie tartt

based on the song apple pie by lizzy mcalpine

description: jamie gets insecure sometimes, but having you with him helps.

pairing: jamie tartt x actress!reader (f!reader she/her)

warnings: lots of kissing, self-doubt, insecurities, mention of jamie's dad

word count: 2631

ted lasso requests are open | main masterlist

When Jamie first got into a relationship with you, he knew that both of your busy schedules would pose a problem down the road. With his football career seemingly reaching new peaks every season and your acting career taking off after being cast in what is being called “the film that revived the dying genre of romantic comedies,” the amount of time you get to spend with each other decreased significantly since the start of your relationship.

You first met Jamie halfway through his returning season at AFC Richmond. You met him at a birthday dinner party for a friend of a friend where you relentlessly teased him for his ridiculous, but outstanding performance, on Lust Conquers All. You had originally praised him for it when you were fully under the impression that he was putting on an act. You didn’t find out that he was just being his prick-ish self, albeit his younger prick-ish self, until about four months into your relationship when he embarrassedly admitted it to you. That’s how you found yourself rewatching the entire season together on his couch until 2 hours before Roy knocked on his door for his training session.

At first, Jamie thought you were making fun of him. His insecurities would still peek in here and there and sometimes he couldn’t help but worry that you’d see him as nothing more than a dumb footballer like everyone else does. He quickly realized, though, that while you were losing your mind laughing at how he acted in the show, making fun of him was the last thing you wanted to do.

“Why’d ya wanna watch this shit anyways?” he grumbled, trying not to let his emotions get the better of him. “It’s just poopy. ‘M not even like that anymore.”

“I know,” you sat up, pausing the show when you heard his voice crack. You knew the tone of Jamie’s voice when he was cracking jokes and when he was happy, and this voice wasn’t one or the other. You turned your body to face him, “I know you aren’t like this anymore, I just thought it would be funny.”

“I dunno, I suppose it doesn’t make much sense to me.”

“What doesn’t?” you questioned. “Why I want to watch it?”

“Yeah,” Jamie replied. His eyes were looking at everything but at you. He was playing with the threads of the blanket loosely draped over his legs. He rubbed his nose with his balled-up fist. “Why does it matter how I was before you? I’m better now, yeah? Unless you don’t think so...”

“Oh, love,” you grabbed his face, forcing him to look at you. You were so engrossed in the episode on the TV that you didn’t realize how uncomfortable Jamie was feeling about the whole situation. “I’m sorry, I should’ve been paying more attention to how you were feeling about this. We can stop watching it.”

“Yeah, I’d like that.” He hummed, tugging on your hoodie to pull you closer to him. “I just don’t want you to see how I used to be and realize you don’t want to be with a prick like that, even if I have changed, you know? I don’t know… I just thought that with ya, I’d have a fresh start.”

“Jamie Tartt, enough of that now,” You took over being the big spoon, which made Jamie nuzzle into your neck contently, “You have changed. You’re an amazing man and the best boyfriend I’ve ever had. I only wanted to watch this show because it’s such a shitty show that it’s nice to just unwind. When I watch this Jamie on the screen, my brain can’t even comprehend that it’s you.”

“You don’t think I’m a prick anymore, yeah?” Jamie asked again, hoping that he’d get a confirmation, “Like you wouldn’t leave me over that?”

You’ve learned over the past few months things about Jamie– one of which is that he needs to be told positive things or else he’d spiral. The thing is, if you could go into his mind and turn off that control box that spews self-doubt and insecurities to him, you would do it in a heartbeat. But since you can’t, you were more than happy to shower him with love and adoration in hopes that your voice can drown the rest of them out.

“Never,” you placed your lips on his in a soft kiss. “You’d have to work a hell of a lot harder to get rid of me.”

“I’m working double overtime just so you’d keep me, love,” he murmured, pulling you in for another kiss. His hand reached for the remote to turn the TV off to leave you both in the glow of the floor lamp in his living room.

“You don’t have to work hard for that.”

Jamie had gotten used to having you around his flat. He would leave for 4 AM training with Roy with you on his bed, often naked, then return at around 6:30 AM to shower and join you back in bed for another hour before you woke up. He’d wake up for the second time that day with you drawing patterns on his chest and a soft smile on your face. He’d lean over and place a loving kiss on your lips and he’d feel prepared to start the day.

You were filming a show in London for three months, which meant that for three months, this was Jamie’s life. In between projects, you stayed at his place. For two weeks after the wrap party, you came home to him, visited him at the facility, and went to all the team outings, home games, and away games with him. He was with you 24/7 and he wouldn’t have it any other way. He didn’t realize how he took it for granted until filming ended.

Three weeks ago, you flew to New York City to begin filming another movie. With training and games, Jamie hasn’t been able to take time off to visit you, and with filming just starting, you couldn’t fly back to Richmond either.

Jamie was doing fine– as fine as someone can be when their daily routine was abruptly disrupted. He was proud of you. The premise of the movie seemed perfect for you and was a seamless continuation of the romantic comedy trend you were on. People were buzzing for your next project, especially after your last one was so well received. He was so proud of you…. But he also missed you.

During the three weeks that you were gone, you and Jamie still texted each other constantly and FaceTimed everyday, despite the crazy time difference. He wanted to make it work, and so did you, so you did what you could to stay in touch. While not being able to hold you and kiss you for three weeks was killing Jamie, he was glad he was still able to spend time with you. Things didn’t get to Jamie until Jan Maas made an off-handed comment about it.

All of them were packing up after training, feeling extremely antsy with the Man City match on the horizon, Jamie especially. There were a lot of things on his mind, including the possibility of seeing his father, who he hadn’t seen since Wembley, and playing against his old team was always a trip. In short, he wasn’t feeling his best and the fact that you weren’t nearby made it worse.

“Jamie, we have not seen Y/N in a while,” Sam noted, “Is everything okay with you two?”

“She’s filming a movie in New York, bruv,” Isaac replied before Jamie could speak, “Right, Tartt?”

Jamie nodded, putting his shirt over his head, “Yeah. She’ll be gone for a few months, at least.”

“I do not know how you’re gonna survive, Jamie,” Jan Maas said. “You are so clingy when it comes to her. I don’t think you can make it all those months.”

The rest of the team chuckled at Jan’s teasing tone, but Jamie furrowed his eyebrows in thought. Was he clingy? He frowned as he continued to put his things away. He picked up his phone from his cubby, smiling when he received a few messages from you while he was at training. As he was about to respond, Jan’s comment made him stop in his tracks.

Maybe it would be best to let you have a night to yourself. You had a life outside of him and you deserve to be able to live it without having him cling to you all the time. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, slipping his phone in his back pocket, before walking out of the locker room to head to his place.

When you woke up to no text from Jamie, you assumed that he was just worn out from training and didn’t have the energy to reply. You’ve seen the intense training he went through, so you wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case. But as the day went on and there was still no word from Jamie– you’d even checked the timezone clock on your phone to make sure you weren’t being unreasonable– you began to worry. FaceTime calls went unanswered and instead, you were met with the Apple automated response, “Sorry, can’t talk right now.”

To: lover boy <3

“Hi, love. Got some exciting news, you free to chat? Xx”

By the time you were boarding the plane to Manchester, Jamie still hadn’t texted you back. After begging the producers to give you a week off filming, they finally agreed. You asked for this week in particular, knowing that you wanted to be there for Jamie for the Man City match. There was a lot on the line for Jamie and you wanted to be there for him no matter what happened.

The entire plane ride back to England was filled with dread and anxiety. It wasn’t like Jamie to not respond. Unless he was at a game, training, or sleeping, but even then he had a special ringtone for you that wakes him up whenever you called, he always replied to your messages as soon as possible. When you landed, everything that could go wrong went wrong. Your plane was stuck on the tarmac for an hour because there were problems with the gate. Your luggage got delayed which left you sitting at baggage claim for another 45 minutes. When you finally arrived at the hotel the team was staying at– shoutout to Ted for being yours and Jamie’s number one supporter and telling you where they were staying– Jamie was nowhere to be found.

You dragged your luggage to Jamie’s room, plopping on the bed tiredly. You glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand. 9:28 PM. Ted mentioned that there was a 10 PM curfew so you hoped that tonight was not one of the nights where Jamie decided to break the rules. Ted also mentioned that Jamie has not been himself lately, which did nothing to soothe your panic. You hopped in the shower to rinse yourself from the long day you’ve had. You did your night routine and dug into Jamie’s bag to retrieve his AFC Richmond hoodie. Before putting it on, you held it up to your nose, sighing as your senses were filled with Jamie. You missed him.

It was 9:57 PM when you heard the door unlock. You were on his bed, scrolling aimlessly on social media, when you saw him. You sat up, shutting your phone off. He walked in with his head low. His shoulders were hunched over a bit, but he looked okay. He looked better than how Ted described him.

He kicked off his shoes, before looking at you on his bed, startled. His eyes widened, first in fear that there was someone in his room, then in surprise that it was you in his room. His lips curved down in a frown, eyebrows furrowed in sadness.

“Baby,” you whispered, moving to the side of the bed to make room for him.

Jamie knew that he needed to not be clingy. He didn’t want to bother you too much. He was trying to be cool. But when you called him “baby,” with that voice, in his hoodie on his bed, his resolve crumbled to pieces.

He ran to you, nearly tackling you off the bed when he engulfed you in his arms. He buried his face in your neck, a mix of your lotion and the cologne he sprays on his clothes surrounding him. You cradled the back of his head, mumbling how much you missed him into his shoulder. Jamie could cry. He hasn’t seen you in so long, but here you are now.

“What are you doing here?” He asked when he finally pulled away from you. He couldn’t stray too far though. His arm was still wrapped around you while you cuddled into his side. “I thought you were in New York.”

“Well, if you bothered to answer my texts,” you trailed off, faking a voice of sadness. You poked his side, “You would’ve seen that I had exciting news. The producers gave me a week off after begging them since I first got to New York and this week is perfect because I know tomorrow’s match is gonna be a lot for you. I wanted to be here for you, whatever the outcome is.”

“Oh.” Jamie was speechless. Here he was ignoring you like a prick while you were planning to come back just to be here for him. He didn’t deserve you.

“Yeah,” you continued, “If tomorrow we celebrate, I’ll be here making sure that you drink enough water so that your hangover the next day won’t be too much. If tomorrow we try to never think about it again, I’ll sit next to you on the bus in silence holding your hand and when we get home we can do the same thing.”

Home. You were here and he felt like he was home.

“I missed you so much,” Jamie sighed. He kissed you all over your face, giving your lips extra attention. “‘M sorry if I was bothering you by texting and calling so much over the last few weeks… I just missed you loads and I wanted to talk to you.”

“Baby, you didn’t text and call me enough,” you played with his hair, running your fingers through the strands. “If it was possible, I would stay on a call with you all day, everyday. Can’t get enough of ya.”

He smiled, his worries disappearing with every word you said, “Yeah?”

“Oh yeah, I love you, Jamie Tartt.” You kissed him deeply. “Couldn’t get tired of you even after a million years. Now, catch me up! Tell me everything.”

Jamie, feeling like himself again, began to tell you everything you missed over the last few weeks– meeting Sam’s father, meeting Ted’s mum, Roy and Keeley, and seeing his mum earlier that night, which is why he came home late. He talked about how a visit to Georgie and Simon helped lift his spirits, and how Georgie was gushing about you and asking him when you’ll come to visit again.

Then he talked about his fears for tomorrow and everything that’s been piling up on him ever since you left. As he spoke, you rubbed his back comfortingly, a small reminder that you’ll always be here no matter what.

Jamie knew that he still had a lot of work to do. He knew that his insecurities could get the best of him sometimes and it can cause him to push back on people who love and care about him, but he was trying. You believed in him and that’s all he needed.

#ted lasso fics #ted lasso #ted lasso imagines #ted lasso imagine #jamie tartt #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt fanfic #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x yn #jamie tartt oneshot #frances writes #frances song fics

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