#hollywood au

[starfxkr]

all this drama in hollywood au so far ik awards season is total chaos moony like the trending hastags on twitter during it get crazier and crazier by the year

LETS TALK ABOUT THE GIRLS RED CARPET LOOKS PART ONE BC IM GOIN IN DEPTH

kitten THEE fashion girl is pulling out archive vivienne westwood fall/93 wearing the rocking horse heels and this makeup look that donni davy does on her. it's talked about on hf twitter for months they wont shut up about it. discourse starts about whether or not she's too busty for the look and she in turn posts a (censored) pic of her tits on insta. controversy of the night? clearly channeling paz de la huerta and shows up higher than a kite with her bestie in tow. somethings clearly goin on with jj because they're in the background of someones video making out at the club.

pup is wearing this impossible to find gigi hunter dress her close family friend gave her. the shoes are jefferey campbell and she's a bronzed goddess, dupes of this dress are on shein in less than 12 hours after she wears it and everyones fighting to find what bronzer she's wearing and hf twitter argues whether or not she should be there bc she's a nepo baby. controversy of the night is she's seen sloppy drunk all over the city and there's talks of if she needs rehab.

bunny wears this herve lager 1996 dress with this fantabulous beat and the chanel heels in the middle. her outfit is soooo gorge and her body so snatched its insane. spends the night hanging off rafe's arm which is her big controversy bc as far as everyone else knows she's still with her football player husband now she's with this much older man kissing on him like she's angelina jolie. lipstick alley is on fire the wholeeee night and she just keeps cryptically posting pics of her in a penthouse that looks vaguely like rafes.

#✨.txt #kitten!reader #puppy!reader #bunny!reader #hollywood au

[goth-mami-writer]

POV: You're the quiet intern just trying to make it down these steps⬇️

@short-honey-badger who helped me cough this up a few months ago, and we had a lotttt of fun.

⚠️(absolutely not my art. The artist is @yunonoai on TWT. Thx!)⚠️

《 Your director told you to use the back stairwell after the day was finished with final takes in filming. You were the new intern on set and still learning everyone's roles and names, but you knew the cast well. After grabbing your coffee and bag, then being told by the director to use the back stairwell due to some work being done on the front entrance, your stomach churned.

That's where the cast took their smoke breaks between sets and most of them....didn't know you. You were the newbie, and you saw how some of them looked at you in-between filming takes. All of them towered above even the director sometimes, and intimidating just wasn't the word. Some were very cordial. Or at least friendly. But for others... that just wasn't the case. They were almost entirely like their fictional character. Smug and coarse in interaction.

You took a deep breath and opened the door to the back stairwell. The first thing to hit you was the smell of deep, musky cigarette. It almost gagged you because half of them were avid smokers, often being late to set times from hurrying back from their smoke breaks. The heat from the outside lot met you then, and you squinted your eyes from the bright light that illuminated your descent. But you realized now that it wasn't just a few of them here.

It was all of them.

The villains, the noble protagonists. The anti heroes.

Oh, God. Everyone was here.

"Heyy.." The half of them called out in unison while the others only gave a you side glance from their unenthused expressions.

All of their legs were folded across the concrete steps, making it difficult for you to navigate your way down safely. You swallowed hard and decided to speak up for those who might have not realized you were needing through.

"Uhm, excuse me. Sorry." You said with your hands clutched on the strap of your bag.

Nanami, the upstanding gentleman of the group, was the first to stand. He was sitting right at the front, that being your only sigh of relief. He was one of the oldest, and his presence on set always made everyone feel safe. He was especially kind to women.

"Here, dear, I'll help you through." Nanami said with a charming smile as he dubbed out his cigarette into the concrete. He told everyone to mind their legs, and only half of them listened.

"Oh, come the fuck on, she'll be fine." Remarked Toji, the boisterous asshole who spoke his mind with a sneer no matter who was listening. He rolled his eyes and moved his knees from your path. Nanami held his hands on your shoulders as you began down and you tried not to look at each of them but it was so hard. All of them were so endearingly attractive in their own specific ways.

Sure Toji was snide and downright rude as hell but his cocky grin made all of the girls' knees shake. It leveled everything about his asshole personality.

To your immediate left, was Geto, the quiet protagonist in the show who nudged the man to his side Gojo, who moved his blindfold up, moving out of your way accordingly with a smile.

Gojo turned his head down the stairs and everyone seemed to pay attention when his very telling blue eyes came from beneath his dark blindfold,

"Guys, let the intern through."

"Eat a dick, Satoru." Toji remarked from across the steps.

Everything was going fine. You were about halfway down now with Nanami's hands holding your shoulders protectively until you finally passed Toji by who began to loudly exclaim from behind you once his eyes fell low as you passed him by,

"Goddamn! She can walk past me anyday!"

You felt a very intentional smack to the back of your ass only to be returned by Nanami who you could hear reprimanding the eager man with a vicious grip to his collar before apologizing to you in your ear,

"I am so sorry."

"It's okay." You said with your face painted a blinding shade of red, and you looked down, just hoping to make it down the rest of these steps without being humiliated further.

Gojo and Geto had a little more class, only sharing a menacing look to each other at the sight of your ass so close as you passed and now you were finally closer to the bottom flight of stairs, still being led by Nanami.

Here at the bottom held two of the more unsavory characters that included Sukuna and Choso, two villains, however powerful and / or likable they were. Choso, the quieter one of the pair, only moved his outstretched legs, not giving a word in your direction before looking back down to his phone. His eyes were so catching and dark that you wished he would've kept your gaze. But that stare was only broken as you passed by the last loiterer there on the stairs, Sukuna.

He grew a cunning, mischievous smile and asked you with his voice that purred so seductively like a flirt no matter what he was saying,

"Hm, I've never caught your name on set?"

You told him your name and he hummed with a sultry, entertained rumble in his throat as he reached out to touch your blouse in a clear pass until he was stopped by Nanami, who was determined to not let you get touched twice.

"Hands to yourself, old man." Nanami grumbled before rubbing your shoulder as you reached the lower flight now. He asked if you'd like to be walked to your car as well, but you assured him it was fine, thanking him for being so kind.

"We'll see ya tomorrow!" Toji called down with his eyes narrowed in a haughty expression from his seat above, and you shivered hearing that.

"I promise we'll be more behaved if you take this way tomorrow! Have a good night!" Nanami promised as he made his way back up to the very first step, and you hurried now to your car. Your face was red, your arms were trembling, and your blood raced.

You weren't embarrassed or humiliated at all. Instead, it was closer to exhilaration to be so close to them in a cramped space like that. And it certainly didn't help that no one minded their manners. It only made you want it more. You fanned yourself and hoped that the front entrance that you usually took to get to the parking lot never got fixed.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #hollywood au #actor au #jjk geto #geto suguru #jjk gojo satoru #gojo satoru #nanami kento #jjk nanami #jjk toji #toji fushiguro #choso kamo #jjk choso #jjk sukuna #ryomen sukuna

[in-flvx]

Okay the house of Black in Hollywood though... Producer or filmmaker Orion, who marries his own cousin, the legendary actress walburga, after she got horrifically abused by the regisseur of a movie she starred in. Their marriage is respectful, but cold and there's many rumors about infidelity going around. The cycle of abuse then continues when their children get born. Both parents try to sculpt them into their image. Walburga books Sirius role after role, and model opportunities, with strict diet plans and early access to drugs. He is talented, if only he wasn't so opinionated. Orion rejects both, despite his sons talent on orions side of the camera, so he continues to ignore his wife and eldest son. The younger one is lacking, but he tries so hard to appease his parents... When the eldest turns and runs away both parents forget they had another son as well...

#the most ancient and noble house of black #Hollywood au #Sirius Black #Walburga black #Orion black #Regulus black #Fic idea #Tw: abuse

[fuukonomiko]

BES Hollywood AU

I know some other fandoms have this AU (including Warhammer40k where I saw @mixuen and her most creative takes!) so I think it would be awesome to have BES have it too.

Someone mentioned this to @lillydrawsmizu and I apologize for forgetting who it was but hopefully you can see this too!

Some silly ideas (please feel free to make suggestions, or make art)

The actors for Swordfather Eiji and Seki were a comedy duo when they were younger. Think Abbott and Costello.

The actor who plays Ringo is a part time musician. He has his own Indie band and he is actually the lead guitarist. He brings his guitar to write songs during downtime. When his fans saw his role in the show they freaked out not seeing his hands. Mikio's actor has taken this role to move away from his image as a stereotypical Hollywood leading man. It's his first venture into playing a very unlikeable character. Abijah Fowler's star is actually one of the nicest and most professional actors on set! He brings baked goods and sweets for the cast and crew on hectic days with long shoots. Sometimes he even orders catering for them! Akemi's actress is in her first big role! She used to have minor parts in soap operas. She's excited for her big debut! The actor who played Ise actually read for the Akemi role too. Madam Kaji and Lady Ito initially read for the others' part. The casting director made them switch because they felt the other actress suited their respective roles better.

Casting for Taigen took forever as none of the dozens who auditioned was convincing enough for the role. The actor they finally cast was a last minute find when he dropped out of a sci-fi series. After wrapping up season 1, word has it that the actors playing Mizu and Taigen actually became a couple

Discussing this insanity with @kaladinkholins :D And just saw an actor AU from @doughnutshi

#blue eye samurai #hollywood AU #actors AU #seki #mizu #swordfather eiji #taigen

[thisisanewlowes]

The A-List Universe | 'Top Gun Maverick' AU

'Money Can't Buy You Love'

Jake Seresin is one of the biggest celebrities in Hollywood. He's also the industry's most infamous playboy. All set to star in what's shaping up to be the most highly anticipated film of the year, Jake's lifestyle comes into question when he meets his director's daughter... and finds himself falling fast.

'Falling Stars'

With his career quickly declining and his marriage falling apart, Bradley isn't sure how he's supposed to keep going. But, when he's offered a main role in a franchise almost as irrelevant as he is, it seems like things might turn around. Only, what happens when his return to the limelight threatens the career of someone he thought he left behind long ago?

Coming soon...

Tagging some people who I think might be interested:

@environmental-gbcd @seresinsbrat @miselaneas @fantoz  @sailor-aviator @teacupsandtopgun @goldenseresinretriever @seresinsweetie @thedroneranger @attapullman @floydsglasses @mrsrobertfloyd @djs8891 @queenslandlover-93 @paigewinchester67 @roosterforme @tgmrooster @topguncortez @seresinhangmanjake @callsigncurse @callsigncowboy @callsign-daydream @teacupsandtopgun @acewritesfics @missathlete31 @themissingmango @blue-aconite @whatislovevavy @sunlightmurdock @bradshawbaby @averyhotchner @djs8891

#top gun #top gun maverick #glen powell #hangman #hangman top gun #top gun 2022 #bradley bradshaw #miles teller #top gun rooster #top gun AU #hollywood AU #top gun fanfic #jake seresin x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw smut #jake seresin smut #a-list universe

[thelavendrhaze]

fic: king of my heart

author: wildestdreams

rating: explicit

word count: 83.7k

Harry shrugged, his shoulders brushing against Louis’. “I think since I was young, I craved that feeling, though. I didn’t always hate being a prince, but over time, certain aspects of it just bothered me so much. I remember being four years old and realising that every person in the world knew my name, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted that. I told my mum as much and she tried telling me that being a prince is not a punishment. That it was a privilege that I should be happy about it, but no one asked me if I was. But looking up at the sky, I remember that all of this will one day mean nothing, and neither will I. All the pressure will then disappear and I could just be.”

Louis stayed quiet, allowing Harry the space to open up because he knew Harry wasn’t looking for advice, but just someone to confide in. What he wished he could tell him was that in the short amount of time that he’d known the prince, in Louis’ eyes, he couldn’t be insignificant if he tried. He was brighter than every star up there in the sky. He was all Louis could look at and think about. 

or

A Red, White, and Royal Blue AU where Hollywood elite, Louis Tomlinson, finds himself falling for the closeted Prince of England.

chapter one / chapter two / chapter three / chapter four / chapter five / chapter six / chapter seven / chapter eight / chapter nine / chapter ten / chapter eleven / chapter twelve / chapter thirteen / chapter fourteen

fic page / wattpad / twitter / playlist

#larry #lourry #stylinson #fanfic #fanfiction #one direction #one direction fanfic #larry fanfic #my works #friends to lovers au #fluff #smut #angst #komh #royalty au #hollywood au #actors au #famous au #secret relationship #forbidden love #closeted character #red white and royal blue au #rwrb #top harry #bottom louis

[simplyavatrice]

I feel your compliments like bullets on skin - chapter six

Ava wakes up to a gentle sensation of something moving along her back. She doesn't open her eyes right away, trying to bask in the feeling of not even remembering the struggle it was to fall asleep.

Usually, nights are more like covert operations. She has to have the right amount of white noise and the right amount of light filtering in the room. She has to train her thoughts to be distracting so she doesn’t think about the bed or the darkness.

Last night though, Ava doesn't remember any of that.

She only remembers…

“Bea?” She whispers, opening her eyes and turning to where Beatrice is already awake next to her.

A warmth encases her chest, squeezing it so tight she worries it might burst.

“Good morning, Ava,” Beatrice says back, her hand still running along Ava’s spine. She’s beautiful, lying on her side with the blankets tucked underneath her arms - those freckled shoulders exposed.

“Hi,” Ava suddenly feels so shy - because she’s never woken up next to someone in her own home like this. Every hookup after JC was in a hotel or inside a trailer on set.

Not here though, not in her space.

Beatrice is here. “Is this alright?” Beatrice asks and that’s when Ava realizes that Bea is drawing over one of the scars on her lower back.

Once upon a time there might have been a feeling of doubt or worry or embarrassment at the thought of anyone seeing them. They were physical scars, yes, but they didn’t hurt - they just represented hurt.

However, her line of work long erased any modesty. When she had to show that part of her body on screen, it became a part of the makeup department’s job.

At a certain point, her scars became more of a chore than a story. Yet, when Beatrice first saw them last night, she hesitated and asked questions with her eyes and Ava felt, for the first time in years, precious.

“It’s fine,” she says and it is. In fact, she loves having that part of her be caressed and cared for - she’s been hiding them for most of her life.

Beatrice nods and keeps brushing over them. “I’m going to have a long morning explaining to my friends why my study session carried on all night.”

“Do they usually not?” Ava teases, scooting a bit closer to the edge of her pillow - she just wants to be closer to Bea.

“Surprisingly enough, most astrophysicists do not party all night in the library.”

Ava hums. “Sounds lame, you should set a new trend.”

CONT ON AO3

#avatrice #warrior nun #avatrice fanfiction #warrior nun fanfiction #hollywood au #it is 6am fjkasflajkf #<3

[mirapteo]

this is all for the cameras!!!! absolutely no undeniable unfathomable horrific falling in love going on round these parts!!!!

#this au is the only tuing ill be drawing for weeks im nto sorry #hollywood au #apex #apex fanart #apex legends #my art ♡ #crypto apex legends #apex crypto #mirage apex legends #apex mirage #cryptage #holohacker

[sam-loves-seb]

the fruity four but make it hollywood au (1/x)

actor!steve who’s newly famous for his leading role in last year’s hit romantic comedy, everybody and their mother is in love with the guy, his face is on every fucking billboard across the country, he’s charming and funny and god is he attractive and eddie is so fucking over it.

eddie munson--lead singer and guitarist for successful metal band corroded coffin--doesn’t even know steve harrington but he’s annoyed by him nonetheless. by what, he’s not really sure. his success? his popularity? how his face is literally everywhere eddie turns? who knows! eddie writes him off as another one hit wonder actor who will flop in his next feature or burn out in the next five years from doing too much too fast and not being able to handle the workload or the stardom

but then he meets steve at some 30 under 30 in hollywood party, and he's not at all how eddie expected. they become sort of friends that night, and in the following weeks eddie starts to learn more about hollywood's newest heartthrob

like how steve never really wanted to be an A-list actor, how he never saw himself in the romcom game at first. he learns how steve got his start as a stunt double on a couple of decent coming of age/teenage hijinks action adventure films, how he spent most of his twenties absolutely broke, living paycheck to paycheck and constantly worried between jobs

how steve met his best friend robin (a makeup artist) on the set of his first real gig, and how he pulls her in to any and all of his projects now that he’s a big name (not that she isn’t talented in her own right, she’s damn good at what she does, but they've always looked out for each other like this in the near decade they've known each other). she's been his "date" on more than one red carpet this year, and every couple of months steve has to publicly squash the dating rumors that start to circle them

how steve met his ex-girlfriend nancy wheeler (yes, that nancy wheeler, picture perfect girl-next-door older sister on one of the most famous sitcoms of the last decade) when she starred in a movie where steve was her co-lead’s stunt double, how they dated for about a year and then broke up but stayed friends, even when she went through her rebellious phase and broke out of her cookie cutter miss-teen-perfect shell and had a bit of a "wild child" phase before settling into the indie film scene for a while and fading into the background for a couple of years

how steve never wanted to be an actor--like, not even a little bit--but on this one gig he flirted a little too much with this one casting director that he really liked, and then the next thing he knows he’s being cast as a supporting part in a six part mini series that sort of blew up one summer before everyone immediately forgot about it when fall programming began airing

fast forward a year or so and he’s still doing stunt work--with name recognition comes a steadier stream of gigs, so he's happy with what he's doing, he likes stunt work--when something goes wrong and he gets a pretty bad concussion (just another in a long line of them) and his agent tells him it might be time to hang it up for good for the sake of his health

but he doesn’t know what else to do, he has a little money saved from the mini series but it’s not enough and he needs a new plan, and robin--sweet, sweet robin--tells him about this movie she’s about to start working on where the male lead had to back out last minute and the directors are scrambling and she may have slipped steve’s headshot to the casting director when she caught him having a breakdown in the back room of the studio...

...and that's how steve gets his big break, starring in a well written romcom with an unknown cast that does big numbers at the box office, launching all of them into stardom overnight

and eddie is fascinated by all of this because, well, he thought steve was for sure a nepotism baby or some shit because he’s pretty sure steve grew up with money (he did, but he left it behind to move to LA and pursuit his dreams) and eddie just assumed his dad was a big name producer or something and that’s how steve got into all of this

so the two of them start hanging out and they become fast friends, always photographed getting coffee together trying to avoid the paparazzi or showing up to hollywood's hottest parties together (in an attempt to get both of their agents off their backs and actually show their faces in public) and buzzfeed starts to write these articles about how they're the most unlikely of friends

it takes them six months to start dating.

it takes another year before the press catches wind of it, and by that time they're already living together in a three bedroom luxury apartment in LA with robin and nancy sharing a place right down the hall. steve bought a ring. it sits in robin's sock drawer so eddie won't find it before steve's ready to pop the question

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | ko-fi

#idk should i make a pt 2? #i might have more to say #this started as me rambling in texts to connor #and it spiraled #oops #steddie #fruity four #steddie fanfic #steddie hc #steddie au #my steddie au #my steddie hcs #my steddie posts #hollywood au #fruity four hollywood au #background ronance #trust me it's there i'll explain it in a later post #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #no plot just vibes #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #platonic stobin

[jisungsdaydreamer]

Cowboy Like Me | TEASER | 18+

«GENERAL M.LIST» · «NAVIGATION» · «TALK TO ME»

SYNOPSIS How can falling in love with someone feel so right? How could it ever be wrong?

Pairing: Lee Know x fem!reader Genre: Hollywood au, non modern au, angst, smut Warnings: explicit sexual content, playboy agenda, heavy drinking, mentions of drugs, slight age gap, virgin reader, toxic relationship dynamics, may contain inaccurate depictions of the time period, slight descriptions/mentions of infidelity, some misogynistic dialogue (& more to come) Release Date: TBA

It’s no secret that Lee Minho is one of the most sought after dreamboats to ever grace the silver screens of Hollywood.

Rumored to have torrid affairs with only the most dazzling starlets, it’s no secret that he’s popular amongst the ladies either. Unfortunately, after Minho is caught in the middle of a sordid scandal with a noteworthy director’s wife, he journeys away from home to escape the damaging media circus swarming him.

Taking refuge in the small sound production studio in which he was first discovered as a star, Minho reconnects with his old passion for music, and in doing so, stumbles upon a fledgling singer who turns his life upside down. You and Minho are worlds apart; while you’re a sweet, up and coming artist, Minho is an infamous lothario disillusioned by fame.

He knows he should leave you alone, stay away from you. He knows he should refrain from dragging you into his unfortunate spotlight, from making his demons yours. He knows the way his pulse quickens around you is wrong, and that loving you is the last thing he should be doing. Minho also knows that he’s failing in his efforts to quell his feelings for you, slowly surrendering his heart to you.

But it’s not just the world around him that is a caveat to his romance with you. Minho has never truly given or received love, limiting his amorous endeavors to a single night or the ones fabricated by movie scripts. You deserve better than him— a strong, kind man who isn’t afraid to love you, to devote himself to you, to show you off to the world, paparazzi and tabloids cast aside. Pursuing you would not only jeopardize Minho’s own tenuous reputation, but your future as well. It means disaster, a tragedy instead of romance. But how could he not, when this is the most authentic he’s ever felt, after a lifetime of playing other characters?

«GENERAL M.LIST» · «NAVIGATION» · «TALK TO ME»

TAGLIST @ajxreads @chizumiyoshi @jetblackbelle @yeahhspider @army-stay-noel @143hyunes @httphans @ave-221 @chaotic-world-of-the-j @nyasstars @beautifulmusicaddict-blog @imasimplol @xsw-void @queen-klarissa @hyunjinsamdl @heavenhannie @chillseo @ultimatestayandminoronce @moasworld @boomfrogg

If you would like to join my taglist, please fill out this form!

©jisungsdaydreamer 2023 | All rights reserved. I do not condone translations or transfers of my work onto other platforms such as Wattpad, AO3, etc. Tumblr is my only platform. Acts of plagiarism are strictly prohibited.

#skz smut #stray kids smut #lee know smut #lee minho smut #lee know x reader #lee know x you #hollywood au #lee know angst #lee know x y/n #lee know #skz fic #lee know fic #skz historical au #lee know historical au

[bluestripedspeedo]

Indiscreet - 05. In the Mood for Love Pairing: Writer/Producer!Javi Gutierrez x you (Hollywood AU) SERIES MASTERLIST

Chapter summary: This is it. The Big Moment. Chapter warning: NSFW, NC-17, mature, no minors allowed. Discussion of safety, oral (both you and Javi), PIV, dirty talk, daddy kink (not the DDLG kind), age gap (mid 20s and mid 40s). Word count: 9.8k

Playlist: Dress - Taylor Swift So It Goes

Author's note: I had this in the queue two years ago, then life got in the way and I abandoned it. I've decided to return because I feel I have a responsibility to finish what I started, so here it is, the very long awaited smut chapter!

I've also decided to tweak the previous chapters a lot because I've changed as a person in these two years, so it's better to reread those first, as a refresher too. When I first started writing this, it was going to be about a pandemic/quarantine romance - it was initially inspired by The Bubble's premise anyway. But... that's old news now, and I don't feel like going back to that space of mind. You fall in love under different circumstances now.

Enjoy and apologies for my absence. I promise to be here more often!

✧✧✧

Day 9

The wrap party is held at the villa where you’d been filming for the past week. All of the cast and crew members are present except for one glaring absence – Dieter Bravo. He’d left the set faster than Óscar could even announce it’s a wrap. In full costume, no less.

Javi has to do something about that. Dieter’s a brilliant actor, that’s undeniable, but his public image hasn’t been positive lately. Hunger Strike helped him sweep the awards season, and if Dieter could be a little more professional, Javi wouldn’t mind pushing the campaign for his work in this too. He’s lucky he physically resembles Javi a little… As long as Javi keeps writing self-insert characters into his scripts, Dieter will always have a job waiting. 

The dinner part of the party is over – people are scattered around the garden mingling and draining the last bottles of champagne and making plans for the few days off until work resumes in London.

“Óscar,” you sit down between him and Javi. They have settled on the chairs they dragged to the corner to overlook the sea while they drink and smoke. “I’m gonna go with those guys. They’ll drive me back.”

Your head nudges towards the group laughing boisterously on the steps of the villa. Some are crew, some are your co-stars that you’ve been working with since the start of the production, and some are new local actors hired just for the duration of the shoot here. They’ve made such a tight knit group you’re surprised that they even asked you to come along at all.

“Taking the party elsewhere?” Óscar asks.

“Yeah… we’re going to Saint-Tropez.”

“We could go with you. If you want.” Javi carefully masks his hopeful tone.

“We’re gonna hit up some clubs...”

“You’re way too old for that.” Óscar slaps Javi on the shoulder.

“Right,” Javi drinks the rest of his cognac in one gulp and pours another, since he’s not going anywhere tonight by the looks of it. “Might displace my hip on the dance floor or something.” 

You laugh. “You’re good. It’s just… I never went out with any of them, so… could be fun.” 

“Oh my God, go, we’re not your parents,” Óscar shoos you. “Just be on the boat on time tomorrow. And ask the others, too.”

“Will do, Dad.”

Javi chokes on his drink and Óscar snorts. He gets up when the cinematographer and boom operator drunkenly call for his attention. “Have fun, kid.” 

“Take care of yourself. Don’t drink too much.” Javi says once Óscar is safely out of hearing distance. He didn’t see you drinking at all during dinner despite the free flowing alcohol and now he suspects it’s because you’ve planned on going all out for the after party. He doesn’t mean to be controlling, but he’s supportive of your intention to cut back and he doesn’t really trust that party crowd to look after you. Not that he thinks you couldn’t do it yourself, but it would give him a peace of mind if you were going to be inebriated.

“Yeah, don’t worry about that. I just feel like I should go. They’re my castmates. I haven’t spent much time with them, or even at all.” All thanks to the man sitting across from you, but you have no regrets. “And, you know, networking.”

“We both know you don’t have to worry about that anymore,” he grins. “Where are you going? Do you know yet?”

“No, but probably something really cliche like Les Caves or VIP.”

“Is Elise coming too? I don’t see her.”

“She left. Like ten minutes ago. Don’t ask me how I know and don’t tell anyone, but she’s following Dieter.” 

Oh, shit. Javi’s eyes go wide. 

“Hey, don’t ask.”

Javi is incredulous. Is he that oblivious to even his actors now? He’s on set most days and he always keeps a closer eye on them to anticipate any on set drama. He’s known them both for as long as he’s been in the industry and he usually could get a good read on these things. Takes one to know one. Maybe he’s really been that distracted.

“What about Ross? Is he coming with you?”

“Yeah. Why?” A coy smile slowly forms on your lips.

“Nothing. I heard he asked you out.” He looks away from you into the distance. 

You fake a gasp. “Were you eavesdropping on me?”

“He was pretty damn loud about it.”

“Then you know I told him I have a boyfriend, right?”

“I thought so. The way his face fell. If only he could emote that well on camera.”

“Javi! That’s mean!”

“You know I’m not wrong.”

He’s right. You might be new, but you figured a while ago Ross couldn’t have been cast for his talents but rather his heartthrob status for maximum PR.

“So who’s the boyfriend?” Javi playfully side eyes you and you nudge your knee to his. “Can’t be me, too old for that.”

“Uh huh. Let’s see…” You pretend to think. “Man-friend? Lover?”

Javi groans and makes a face.

“Ooh, I know,” you look at him seductively. “Daddy.”

“Careful.” Fuck.

“Wow… I…” your eyes widen. This is definitely interesting. “...can’t wait to explore that.”

“It only sounds hot coming from you.”

Your breath catches in your throat. “Any cute nicknames for me?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He throws you a teasing glance. “You could’ve found out an hour from now, give or take.” You look at him in question, so he continues. “I have a whole surprise planned – had.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“‘Surprise’ being the key word there, babe.”

“I could tell them–”

“No, forget I said anything. Go have fun.”

“But–”

“Honey. We can’t exactly hang out with each other’s friends, so when you have the chance to be with them, you go, okay? I’ll be fine.” He might be seeing things but he swears he sees your eyes tear up… with relief. Why do you need permission so badly?

“Okay. I’ll see you later?”

“I can’t promise I’ll still be up. I’m ooooold.” He leans back on his chair, taking his time to admire you in your low cut dress under the guise of having a casual, professional conversation. 

“Hm, so is it your idea or Óscar’s to go to the casino tomorrow? That’s some old people shit.” The lightness comes back in your tone.

“Noitsnot.” Javi answers too quickly.

“Yeah, right. Looking forward to playing the jackpot?”

“I’ll have you know I’ll sweep you at poker.” 

“If you say so. I’ll make sure to wear something interesting to distract you.”

“That’s cheating but I’ll allow it.”

“And meanwhile,” you shift so he could get a better look at your cleavage. “Think about what could’ve happened if you’d told me your plans first.”

“Ah, so my usual thoughts. That’s easy.”

“Yeah, mine too.” Your voice drops to a whisper. “I didn’t come last night, daddy.”

He suppresses a groan. “Jesus fucking Christ.” 

“I had to. You made me so wet.” 

“I offered to take care of you, baby.”

“I know. That’s why I didn’t come. I wanted to wait for you.”

“Fuck.”

“Well, now we’re even. See you tomorrow.”

You get up and leave to join your friends, leaving him hard and wanting as he pulls out a new cigarette. 

✧✧

Day 10

You are positively trying to kill him today. As if the thought of you touching yourself right under his room wasn’t enough to make his balls about to explode, now you’re lounging in the red one piece that drove him crazy a couple of months ago. He tries hard, very hard, to look at literally anything else. He hopes no one notices how long he’s been ‘taking pictures’ of the oceanic view. 

And it gets worse. When it’s time to dress up to the nines for the night, he puts on a light blue suit jacket, but you… you go beyond what you promised. You arrive last to the casino and in that moment, it’s as if everything in the room stops. It stirs something in him too when he sees people checking you out as you walk past them. 

“You look so handsome.” You tell him once you’re close enough. Óscar had gone straight to the high rollers table upon arrival, taking a few crew members on his dime. But Javi’s content with sitting around nursing his drink, waiting for you.

“This isn’t fair.” He gives you a quick once over.

“You like it?” You’re not usually one to wear something so revealing, but Javi makes you bold. You were saving this up for a proper date with him back in London, but there’s no time like the present. You can’t even be shy about showing so much because you need to elicit his reaction.

“It’s fucking fantastic.”

“You should see it on the floor.”

He drops his head and sighs heavily, then he points his drink towards the slot machines. “One round and we’re leaving.”

“What happened to poker? Are you chickening out?” You challenge him.

“No, but it takes much more time.”

“Excuses, excuses…” From here, you can see Óscar in your line of sight. “Why don’t we leave after he wins? Then he’ll be busy with the next round to notice us, right?”

“That’d be a while. He sucks.”

“Go and help him, then. Oh, how are we getting back?”

“We’re not. I’m getting us a suite.”

“I don’t know about that. It’s a lot less private around here. People talk.”

You’re right, and logistically it’s more difficult to explain both of your absences for the night and potentially tomorrow morning. The yacht isn’t an option, either.

“Let’s Uber, then.”

“Yeah, we can’t do that. It doesn’t work here.”

He studies your face while he calculates his options. “Sit tight, I have an idea.”

✧

The ‘idea’ turns out to be buying a fellow gambler’s car with his winnings. Of all things you expected to happen today, finding yourself in the backseat of a Pagani was not one. Javi was a few hundred thousand short but he didn’t think the guy cared that much. From the way he had been gawking at Javi and Óscar since they walked in, he probably would’ve given it away for free. His immaculate taste in cars was just a nice bonus. Plus, the color matches his suit. 

“I just have to send his kids some signed merch and arrange them a tour of the Beskar set. Great deal, huh?”

“You billionaires are weird.” You shake your head in amusement.

He starts the car and the revving attracts a few passersby. “What did you tell Óscar?” 

“That I’m tired and everyone else is busy having fun. He didn’t even blink.”

“Let’s hope they’ll keep him occupied ‘til tomorrow.”

The two of you ride in silence, enjoying the vast view of hills and sea, away from the city lights. Javi is relaxed and concentrated, and it gives you a warm, calm feeling seeing him this way.

“It’s been a long time since I drove a sports car. This is a vast improvement from the last one, though, definitely.” He looks over to your side, clearly enjoying his time. “Better looking passenger, too.”

“Pfft, come on! So cheesy.”

“I’m serious… It was with Nic.” Javi says with a chuckle. “You should’ve seen how everyone was looking at you.”

“Can’t say I noticed.”

“Hmm-mm. They were.”

“Did you like it? Or were you jealous?”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

“I get jealous when I see other women checking you out. I’m not too proud to admit that.”

“But they don’t hold a candle to you. So don’t worry.”

“Same here. Don’t want anyone else.”

You caress his arm up to his shoulder where he turns his head to give your hand a kiss. Then you lightly travel down to tug at the buttons on his stomach, then his belt, then the zipper of his pants… you let out a soft moan when he involuntarily bucks towards your hand. Feeling brave, and to his surprise, you cup him over the material and he lets out a heavy groan. 

“Behave, baby. You keep that up and we won’t make it there.”

“Okay, but drive faster. Feels so heavy, Javi. I want it all in me. Make it fit.” Turning him on turns you on.

His hands on the steering wheel turn white. “Fuck yes baby you’re gonna take it. Wearing that dress like you’re begging to be fucked. I knew everyone in there pictured your bare tits.”

Oh. Your jaw drops. That’s… unexpected. You squeeze him in response and he immediately takes away your hand to clasp it above his knee.

“You’re so fucking naughty. Teasing me every day.” Javi’s deep voice drops a few more octaves and it makes you squirm. “What happened to waiting, hm?”

“I can’t. I’m tired of fingering myself to sleep, every night.” 

“Yeah? What did you think about when you did it?”

“Yours in me… mine aren’t thick enough, Javi,” you sigh from your own admission. “Your tongue. Feeling your mustache on me. You stretching m–”

You gasp when Javi suddenly grips your hand tightly. You’ve never seen Javi look this intense before. His nostrils flare, his eyes darken, and his breathing becomes so heavy you can hear it in the silence. 

“Want you fucking my mouth, daddy,” you continue, making him grip you again to the point of almost hurting. 

“You–” His mouth forms into a snarl. “You’re gonna kill me.”

You bring up his hand that grips you to run his thumb along your lips to nibble on it. You do the same to each finger, eyes looking at him putting all his effort into concentrating on the road ahead. He finally turns his head when you slip his middle finger past your lips to the knuckle, giving it a languid, sensual suck. A teaser of what’s to come. 

“Fuck, baby. You have to stop.” Javi lets out a moan as he focuses back on the road and you keep swirling your tongue around him, rubbing the underside back and forth as if it were–

You have an idea.

You hope you won’t crash and die on these hills. 

Your other hand makes a quick work hiking up your dress and your mouth lets go of his finger and you guide your hand and his between your thighs and–

Javi lets out an angry growl when his hand meets your soaked panties. “You get this wet from talking?”

“It’s you, Javi…” He starts rubbing you through the material and you throw your head back on the seat, moving your hips along with his movement. 

Then you have another idea.

You recline the seat, shimmy your ruined panties off, and drape your leg over the console to spread yourself open. The cold that hits you is nothing compared to the warmth of his massive hand so close to your center. Javi’s eyes look like they’re about to bulge out of their sockets. He can’t see you clearly in the dark, but he can definitely feel your wetness on the leather. 

“Please, Javi… I don’t wanna wait.”

Javi mutters something under his breath, his one hand on the wheel shaking. He didn’t plan on doing this here, or even tonight. He was going to surprise you with a private dinner the other night, and tonight he only wanted to take you back to the villa just so you could stop pretending you’re just coworkers when work is already done - for the time being, anyway. He thought it would be PG at best, but… he’s not complaining. But he’s driving, and he’s thisclose to losing control. 

But on the other hand, is your exposed pussy begging for his touch. And Javi’s only a man.

So Javi decides to be a gentleman and give you what you ask for. He starts by running his hand over your mound, groaning at the smoothness. Then he moves his hand further down and spreads your wetness over his hand and yourself, fingers parting your lips along the way. You don’t dare to look down because even a mere glance of Javi’s hand working on you would make you come, you’re sure of it. 

But you do anyway, just as his finger starts to rub your clit in circular motions, making you fall back on the seat with a loud moan. He continues and puts more pressure as you squirm and writhe, restrained by the seatbelt across your torso, keening sounds filling the small space.

He wishes he could watch you. Maybe he should pull over, get you off, then drive again after you’re both satisfied? But he really doesn’t wanna do it in a car that hasn’t even been his for an hour. You deserve better, somewhere more comfortable, even when you’re so desperate now.

Luckily the GPS says they’re only 5 minutes away.

5 minutes too long.

“Javi…” your pleading moan takes him back into the situation at hand, and he gets the hint. You need more. 

So he gives you more. His middle finger prods your entrance and enters you without warning, making you bite your lip in pleasure. Your two that usually keep you busy on many lonely nights is nothing in comparison to his thick one. His knuckles on the steering wheel go white when you clench around him as he tries to find your spot without even looking in your direction. 

3 minutes.

Should he, or should he not make you come? It’s fucking hot, seeing you grip the armrest and your toes curling, hearing you loudly cry when he adds another finger, the squelch of your pussy equally as loud as your wanton moans to his ears. DRIVEDRIVEDRIVEyouresocloseDRIVEsoclose

The GPS doesn’t even get to announce your arrival before he carelessly parks the car in the driveway. His fingers leave your core to your dismay and he doesn’t give you a moment before pulling his seatbelt off and lurches on to you, grabbing your face in a passionate kiss and smearing your wetness on his fingers on your neck. 

“Javi…” you try to get a word in between kisses. “Let’s– let’sgoinsidebaby–”

Reluctantly he pulls back from you, eyes as dark as the night. With a heavy sigh, Javi exits the car and helps you out, your panties forgotten on the floor.

✧

Javi opens the front door and doesn’t even get to turn on the lights when a moaning sound from somewhere inside freezes you both.

“Óscar…?” Javi tries, as much as he knows it couldn’t be him. The moans persist and turn into groans. “Uh… stay here. Call security, please, honey.”

“NO!” 

“Dieter?!” Javi says incredulously to which the man answers with another groan. You close the door and follow Javi to the living room.

“Hey, man. Sorry to crash.”

Dieter is passed out on the couch, hair strewn in every direction, barely dressed in a pair of boxers and a wrinkled green bathroom robe. He’s holding a corked bottle of wine that threatens to slip out of his grasp that he clearly struggled to open with his bare hands before. By his feet is a spilled, empty glass of whatever he was having and an unlit joint that already burned a hole through the velvet material. It’s a shitshow.

“How did you even get in here?”

“I climbed. Your security is shit.”

“Yeah, thanks. Why are you here?”

“Why are you so pissy?”

At that moment, you come into his view and Dieter’s reddened eyes stare at you quizzically before noticing your smeared lipstick… and your see-through front that you try to cover as much as you can with your very small clutch.

And then he has the audacity to drop his gaze onto Javi’s tented lap.

“Oooooohhhhh. No fucking way. You’re so dead.”

“Hi… Dieter.” You try to meet his eyes so he wouldn’t look anywhere else, particularly your… private area.

“Holy shit. Does Óscar know?”

You glance at Javi who keeps glaring at Dieter in anger. His patience is running thin.

“Dieter. What. Are. You. Doing. Here?”

“I got high and Elise threw a fucking fit because I was balls de– I was with my PA. Don’t look at me all judgy like that. You’re also tapping this hot piece of a–”

“Shut up!” Javi barks. “Don’t talk to her like that.”

“Chill the fuck out, Javi.” Dieter rolls his eyes and gives you a salute. “Great dress… beautiful dress.”

“Stop.”

“Okay. Damn.”

“Go back to your room, Dieter.”

“Can’t. She’s in there.”

“That’s your problem.”

“You go and fuck each other’s brains out. I’ll sit here and be quiet.”

“Out, Dieter. I give you ten seconds. Ten.” Javi starts counting.

“Really?”

“I’m getting a drink.” You announce to no one. Luckily there’s a throw blanket on the nearest chair and you’re able to swiftly cover yourself in it.

Dieter gets up and stumbles right behind you to the kitchen. “Great idea!”

“Hey!” Javi’s growl echoes throughout the house and he stalks after Dieter, grabbing him by the collar of his robe. “Nine.”

“Let go of me, man.”

“I’ve had it with you, Dieter. You got arrested, you ran off set, you mess around with my crew–”

“Oh and that rule doesn’t apply to you?”

“No, it doesn’t. I make the rules.”

“Yeah? I thought Óscar does.”

“Eight, Dieter. Watch it.”

“Hey, I never asked.” Dieter smirks at you. “How old are you? Twenty?”

“Four years ago, I was.” You tell him nonchalantly at the same time that Javi says “don’t answer him.”

Dieter looks over his shoulder at Javi and barks out a mocking laugh. “You have one year to leave him for Leo. Nice.”

“That’s it, we’re done.” Javi’s grip tightens on Dieter’s robe and he starts to drag him back out. All this male posturing is really wearing you off. You can’t take this back and forth between them anymore. This was supposed to be a fun night for you. 

“I have seven more, don’t I?”

“Just… let him stay, Javi. I’m tired anyway.” You let out an exaggerated sigh and fill up another glass with water and put it on the kitchen island, motioning to Dieter that it’s for him. You bury your face in your hands, softly massaging your temples while Javi goes to stand by your side with his back facing Dieter. You reach out until you find his hand and you squeeze it softly, silently assuring him it’s not his fault.

The three of you stand around in silence while Dieter sips his water and Javi eventually stops clenching from anger. When he’s done drinking, Dieter finally looks like he knows what guilt is.

“Sorry for ruining your night.”

“Hmm.” “No shit.” You and Javi reply in unison.

“You two gonna tell Óscar about this?”

“None of your business.” Javi turns around to face him with a finality in his tone. “And whatever is going on with Elise, sort that out before we’re back to filming.”

“I don’t have any more scenes.”

“Yes, you do.”

“I’ve told you I’ve taken up that other job.”

“What other job?”

“Cliff Beasts.”

You snort and raise your head. “Cliff Beasts? Really?”

He shrugs. “Money’s good.”

“Use that for rehab.” Javi snarks.

“Who else is in it?” You sincerely wonder. You were too young to watch the original in theaters when it came out, but the franchise keeps getting more and more ridiculous with each sequel. You keep up just to understand the memes, like everyone does. 

“The entire old cast is coming back. Even Carol Cobb.”

“Cool. Love her.”

“And new people your age. They keep telling me they’re from TikTok. What’s that?”

“Don’t worry about it.” You dismiss his question. He should stay in the dark about that. The world doesn’t deserve to witness Dieter’s shenanigans on that app. 

You rinse your glass and pat Javi’s arm. “I’m going to bed.”

Javi watches you walk away and waits until you close your bedroom door before he scolds Dieter. “You saw nothing, heard nothing. No one will know about this.”

“Okay.”

“One slip up and I won’t vouch for you anymore.”

“Okay.”

“And you’ll be gone tomorrow morning before we’re up. Sort your shit out.”

“Heard you.”

Javi leaves him to go up to his room and he hears Dieter call out a thanks when he’s halfway past the stairs. He has no energy to acknowledge it.

✧

And gone before they’re up, he did. Óscar didn’t even see him when he finally got back around 7 AM and the rest of the day was spent shuffling around to pack. Javi had to arrange the shipment of the new car he acquired too. There was no time to talk about last night, or talk at all, because Javi’s private plane was already waiting on the tarmac for whenever they’re done and ready to leave. 

Óscar is passed out from hangover across from him while you occupy the front of the plane. Busy on your phone, as usual. From his position he can somewhat make out an Escher-looking game. There’s only 30 minutes left before the plane lands in London and he has about 15 before Óscar wakes up.

“So,” he moves next to your seat and speaks in a whisper. “Where are you going after we land?”

“I have to check into my hotel. Why are we whispering?”

“Do you want to just stay at mine? For the rest of the shoot?”

It’s very tempting. But logistically it’ll only call attention to you. You can’t exactly get away with staying at the producer’s house for an entire month. It’s bad enough that Ava knows and now Dieter too. “And tell my PA what?”

“That you’re renting your own place? Staying with a friend?”

“They need to know where they’re picking me up every day.”

“That’s easy. I’ll drive you.”

“Yes, that won’t be suspicious at all.”

Javi sighs in defeat. You’re right, again. Óscar stirs in his seat and Javi waits until he stills again to propose his solution. Except Óscar doesn’t and is fully awake now and asking if they’re there yet.

“I’ll text you,” he mouths.

✧✧

London, three days later 

What he proposed in the text didn’t come into fruition. He’d told you to check in, repack your necessities, and he’ll pick you up to go to his place. Only go to your hotel when you need new clothes. It’s not a bad idea, but it doesn’t matter anyway because you didn’t even get to unpack before Javi informed you that he’d be busy and couldn’t pick you up. 

So you’ve been staying in your room, alone, since you got back, flicking through the script for next week and for a new series Javi sent you this morning. “Ten episodes, HBO. Whichever role you want.” You didn’t have the heart to tell him that it turns out acting doesn't interest you that much and someone else would be more grateful for the opportunity. He also told you he offered Dieter the same project, who accepted it on the spot. But Dieter needs to complete Cliff Beasts first before this starts production, so you have time until then to tell Javi.

Who is now calling you. You pick up on the first ring.

“Hey, baby.” His voice sounds tired and it’s barely dark. He’s been occupied with meetings and prep, hence his absence. “Wanna go for dinner in an hour?”

“I just finished eating room service. We could go for drinks, though?”

“I don’t wanna be buzzed. I need to be up early tomorrow,” he lets out a heavy sigh. “I miss you.”

Your heart aches, knowing the effort he puts into his work and how much it means to him and Óscar. You know how badly he wants his production company to be on par with the big league studios. You know how much thought and research and passion he puts into each of his films. All of that doesn’t even count running his family business on top of everything too - the legal one, the only one that still exists. It hasn’t been the same since a new guy took over from his ex and because of that Javi has to be more hands on in every decision making, or so he told you.

“Miss you too. Where are you right now?”

“Amsterdam.”

“Wait, what?!”

“Didn’t I tell you this morning?”

Definitely no, you would’ve remembered. “No, but– why?”

“Business stuff. Anyway, I’m about to take off.”

“Okay, umm…” You try to think of an idea quickly, still dumbfounded by the new information. “Why don’t you… come over tonight?”

“I’m just gonna disappoint you, babe. I’m so tired.”

“Oh, yeah, I don’t mean– we don’t have to– just have dinner here and sleep. Like, sleep sleep.”

There’s silence on the other hand as Javi thinks it over. 

“Yeah. Sure. Okay.”

Two hours later, Javi rings on your door and you open it in your underwear and a loose t-shirt that doesn’t go past your waist. The way Javi’s eyes widen is so comical that you’d laugh if he didn’t immediately slam the door to pick you up and carry you to the bedroom, his lips finding yours as he does.

“Should’ve brought you with me… missed you so much.”

You whimper as you try to pry open his buttons. 

“I really can’t, baby…” He pulls your fingers off him, kissing each one before he lets go and rolls over onto his back. 

Next thing you know you hear his soft snores. His feet dangle from the bed and he’s still very much fully clothed. 

You give him a chaste kiss and pull the blanket over your bodies and fall asleep too.

✧

You wake up to the soft buzzing of a hair dryer and a ring of the doorbell. The room is dimmed and it’s still dark outside. You get up groggily to get the door and walk past the dining table filled with freshly prepared breakfast. Neat.

There’s no one outside when you open it, but an inconspicuous brown paper bag sits on the floor with a note attached that addresses the package to a ‘Mr. José Estrada’. What…?

“That’s for me, babe.” Javi comes out of the bathroom in a towel folded up to above his stomach and his hair uncombed. It’s… adorable. You’re still not awake enough to appreciate it and merely raise your eyebrows at the name on the bag. Javi shrugs and takes the package from you. “Clothes. Just to be careful. Mornin’.”

He leans down to kiss you but you turn away, muttering about morning breath. He snickers and goes back in to change.

Javi is still in the living room having breakfast when you emerge again, freshly showered too. He’s in a pair of slacks and a white half-buttoned shirt, like he just got home from work instead of going to it. He looks too devastatingly handsome for this early. He guides you by the back of your knees to sit on his lap and you definitely, definitely wobble.

“What are you doing today?” You ask him while he peppers kisses on your neck.

“On set for half the day. Then I’m free.” He pulls back to stroke your cheek. “Stay at my place tonight? I’ll cook you dinner.”

The implication is clear in his eyes. 

✧✧

Of course you didn’t get to find out what he was going to cook for you. What is it with the universe conspiring against you having a wholesome, uninterrupted night with this man? Okay, maybe that’s why, because you’re not really aiming for wholesome. Instead of his house, you’re at Carlotta with him and a few of his celebrity friends, including Dieter and Elise. It’s been three hours and the chatter has gone cold and the wine warm.

“...maybe it’s just like a month off? I don’t know what the big deal is.”

“Apparently the other unions are considering it too.”

“What else?”

“Directors, Writers, Visual Effects, who knows what else. It’s gonna be chaotic.”

You don’t even care what’s being talked about anymore. Someone needs to get the bill before smoke comes out of your ears. You know you didn’t have to be here, of course, but you didn’t want to wait around in your room either and you were hungry. Javi had called you from set to let you know about this last minute dinner that someone arranged in the guise of business networking. Óscar still had scenes to direct and told Javi to go on his own. He knew Javi had nothing to do for the rest of the day. And Javi couldn’t exactly tell him he actually had plans with you.

You weren’t pissed initially - you were enjoying yourself, even. But the two smartly dressed thirty-something women four tables over who have been eyefucking Javi for the past half hour? The statuesque former VS model who sent him a negroni and her Ritz room key? That’s not even his drink of choice, you sneer in your head. Nice try.

You’re not jealous of them, no, Javi is going home with someone at the end of the night and it’s not with any of them. But the way he looks right now and the way that he’s wanted, turn you on so much. That pisses you off. Because this dinner couldn’t finish soon enough.

“I’m gonna drop by Loulou’s after this, you wanna come?” Elise asks next to you. “Ross is already there.”

You look over to Javi… who is signing the check, thank fucking God.

✧

Neither of you even made it to his house last night.

He’d barely parked his car, that ostentatious blue thing, in his driveway when you climbed over the console to sit on his lap.

“Thank you for dinner,” you murmured into his exquisite neck, leaving a mark with your teeth. Tacky, you knew.

“You’re the only one who’s ever said that to me,” he looked at you with a hint of wistfulness. You felt a pang in your heart at his confession.

“Of course I’m grateful, Javi.” You kissed him softly while you twisted the curls around the nape of his neck. “I’ll show you how much.”

Then his phone rang.

And it was Óscar telling Javi to go to his place for last minute rewrites, again.

So regretfully, he had to drop you at your hotel on the way. And naturally this morning you woke up really, really annoyed.

“You know what, this is ridiculous.” You call him over lunch. Room service, again.

“I agree.”

“We should clear out our schedule.”

“Let’s do that.”

“You know I mean yours, right?”

Javi sighs. “I know. I’m gonna sort that out right now. How was your sleep?”

“Eh. I’ve had better. Yours?”

“Shitty. I passed out on the floor.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah. I’m getting a massage as we speak.”

“On set?”

Javi grunts and you snort in jealousy.

“Tell you what. Book a res–”

“Absolutely not. It’s never gonna happen if we go out, Javi. There’s always… something. Like… some kind of weird divine intervention.”

He giggles from the other side. Actually giggles.

“Don’t laugh, I’m serious.”

Which makes him fully laugh. “I’ve cleared out my week. I’m all yours.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Daphne’s or Clos Maggiore?”

“Or.”

“Baby. Come on.”

“Let’s just… have coffee or something casual. That always works for us. Right?”

✧✧

It finally works. You spend the afternoon with him watching a movie at the Electric (and he booked out the entire place) and when you both couldn’t stop fooling around in the theater anymore, you make a run for the car. 

“Yours or mine?”

“Yours. You wanted me in your bed.”

Javi wastes no time speeding to his house. It’s not a long drive, but Javi makes the most of it. He snakes his hand up your dress and rubs your inner thigh, making sure his knuckles brush along your clit while he’s at it. It drives you crazy, and by the time you arrive at his house, you’re already a panting mess. 

He leads you up the stairs and into his bedroom, and you realize you haven’t been in it before. It’s not much of a difference from the room you’ve slept in aesthetic-wise, but it’s much bigger. Easily twice the size, plus a balcony with a small garden and a door that you assume leads to the bathroom and you don’t care what else because his lips are on yours and his hands are all over you as he walks you to the bed, pinning you down on it. 

“I had better plans than this.” He croons into your ear and sucks a spot under the lobe.

You sigh into him. “It doesn’t matter now.”

Javi kisses along your jaw and lightly nips your chin. You grasp his shirt in surprise and he presses you deeper into the bed, making you even closer to him. His weight almost suffocates you, in a good way.

“You look fuckable in this, but it has to go.” He hooks a thumb under the strap of your velvet slip dress, your jacket long forgotten in the car. You nod, giving him permission, and he slips it past your shoulder, then past your tits still covered in a lacy strapless bra, then finally past your hips while he kisses the trail of exposed skin along the way. Javi groans loudly when he’s eye level with your crotch and he sees that your matching panties are soaked and that it’s a fucking thong.

“You are so pretty.” Javi kisses your mound over the material and hooks the string of your barely-there thong between his fingers, as if he’s contemplating whether he should take it off or take you in it. He grabs your thigh and slightly angles you to the side, tracing slowly to the one string swallowed between your cheeks, and his hand lands on your ass with a smack.

“Ah!” You exclaim in surprise and Javi takes the string just to snap it back on you with another light smack. 

“Fucking pretty all over.”

“You haven’t seen anything yet.” You say breathily.

“I know, baby.” Javi murmurs in between mouthing and biting on your thigh and kneading your ass. You’re too busy sighing out your pleasure that you don’t see his other hand about to palm your mound under your panties until you feel it. Javi takes his mouth off of you and sits back on his knees to watch you squirm under his touch.

“Javi…”

“Yeah, baby?”

“I need you.”

“Hmm.” Javi continues grazing his fingers down to your lips, intentionally avoiding where you need him the most.

“Javi…” You fully lie on your back and spread your legs apart. “Take it off.”

Oh, how he’d love to. “I’m gonna take my time, honey.” Javi cups you over your panties and moves his palm up and down your pussy, spreading your wetness on yourself. “You made me wait. Now you wait.”

“Please, Javi. Touch me–”

“I am touching you.”

“I need you, please–”

“Love hearing you beg, baby.”

“Please please please–”

“Please what?”

You’re reduced to whimpering and you buck up your hips to meet his grounding palm. Your arousal is dripping even more now and it drives him crazy that you, the most beautiful woman that he’s ever laid eyes on and he’s wanted since that night in November, is on his bed. Begging for him.

Frustrated, you take the initiative to undo the front clasp of your bra. Javi stops his movements the moment he sees them and you swear his mouth drops open a little.

He’s had several ideas of what they would look like but his imagination doesn’t compare to the real thing. Yours are the perfect size for his hands and so soft under his touch. He runs his hand up between your cleavage before leaning down to take a nipple in his mouth. You writhe under him, arching your back as he nibbles and laps on it and kneads the other one.

“More,” you groan.

“No,” he growls against your soft flesh.

“No?”

“Be patient.” You let out a cry when he bites your underboob. “These are so pretty, baby.”

You moan and tangle your fingers in his hair until he finally takes pity on you. He kisses the valley between your breasts before capturing your lips and you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Javi,” you whisper in between his hungry kisses. “I need t– I need to come.”

“Same here.”

“Touch me.”

“Where?”

You guide his hand and let it rest between your legs, grinding onto his hand again.

“Use your words, baby.”

“Just make me come, Javi. Do whatever you want with me.”

Desperation drips from your words and not only does it make him harder than before, it makes him smug too. He sits up on his knees, taking you in spread out on his bed with a hazy fucked out look on your face. And he technically hasn’t done anything yet. 

He undoes his cufflinks and pushes his sleeves up his veiny forearms. There’s something about the motion that makes him even sexier to you - and it makes you feel that way too. He pries open your thighs further and lowers his gaze down to your still covered pussy. You’ve dripped down onto his bed and he groans at the sight. He takes the strings between his fingers and slowly peels your thong off, much to your relief. He chucks it over his shoulder and drops onto his elbows. 

“You are the most fucking gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen.”

You’re about to raise your head to see his face but before you manage to, you feel his tongue on your pussy.

“Oh, FUCK! Oh my god. Javi–” You grab a fistful of sheets under you as he slowly runs his tongue from your clit down to your entrance, and licks around your opening and tries to stick it into you. No one’s ever eaten you out like this before. It was usually one or two pathetic kitten licks before they get up and dangle their dicks in front of your face. No one is as thorough as Javi, who makes you feel his mouth and whiskers in spots of you that you didn’t know existed.

You don’t realize that you said it out loud until Javi suddenly stops and looks up at you with glistening lips… and mustache. You feel a fresh wave of wetness flooding at the sight. This is what you’ve been imagining every previous night before. 

“Seriously?”

You don’t know if he’s confused or upset by what you said. Either way, you need him to go back to what he was doing. “Yes, Javi, please don’t stop.”

“You’re telling me you don’t usually get eaten out?”

“No, uh, not like this. Never like–” Your own moans cut you off as he goes back to pleasuring you and you cry out when you feel his nose bumps your clit. You’re lost in this new feeling. It’s true. Never like this.

But with Javi? Javi is enjoying himself. He eats you out like he can’t get enough and he can’t get to all parts of you that he wants to taste. He’s slow enough for you to feel every movement his tongue is making, but he picks it up at the right pace when he feels that you need more. You feel his hand slowly squeezing your right boob, and then your eyes fly open when he suddenly puts a thick finger in you. You let out a high pitched moan and buck up to his lips.

“Fuck yeah. Be as loud as you want. You perfect little thing.” Javi shallowly thrusts it in and out of you. “Yours really didn’t fill you enough, huh?”

No. No, they didn’t. Javi’s one finger fills you so well you wonder how you’re gonna even be satisfied with yourself ever again after this. He hits the spots you never reached and makes you beg, and beg, and beg for more.

So he gives you more. He starts sucking your clit at the same time that he adds another finger into you. You don’t know what kind of noises you’re making anymore but it’s deprived enough that Javi groans into your pussy and the vibration and his hot breath make you keen even more. 

“Javi… faster, baby.”

“You’re not gonna come from my hand.” Javi says as he rolls your clit with his tongue. 

“But I’m close.” You whimper.

“I know. You’re so tight, fuck.” Javi raises his head to look at his fingers going in and out of you. They’re slick with your juices and he feels you pulsating around them whenever he drags them out, as if to keep him from not being inside you. “Think you can take my cock? Hmm?”

You gasp out a moan and he retracts his fingers completely. You’re getting too close to the edge and he doesn’t want you to come like this, no. Not by fingers or his mouth. He wants to feel you around him when you do. But that doesn’t stop him from tonguing you again and massaging your clit with his thumb until you’re panting and tugging hard on his hair that it hurts. Before you could go over the edge, he climbs over you and cages you in his arms, his mouth once again on your tits and smearing them with your wetness from his lips.

“Javi,” you grab his face in your hands and stroke his patchy, graying beard. “Please.”

You claw at his shirt, trying to open his buttons with trembling hands. He’s still fully clothed and it’s not fair. You manage to get the top two but then he untangles himself from you to stand at the foot of the bed… to rummage through his drawers.

“Fuck, uh… um… fuck.” Javi reaches into another one, turning it inside out, and starts rifling through a spare wallet he finds inside. “I don’t have condoms. Wait here. I might have some downstairs.”

You crawl over to him and stand on your knees, continuing to open his buttons. “I’m on birth control, Javi. And I haven’t been with anyone, so…”

Javi looks at you with his doe eyes, filled with lust, while you shrug his shirt off him. Are you saying…?

“I want you bare.”

Well, fuck me. If Javi weren’t already hard as rock before, then he doesn’t know what this is now. He’s never been bare with anyone since… who cares. It doesn’t matter. Nothing else matters except you asking him to fuck you raw and now you’re palming him over his pants and literally, the world could be burning at this moment and Javi wouldn’t give a shit about it. 

“Want you in my mouth, daddy.”

“No,” Javi groans painfully. There is no way he’s surviving tonight. “I’ll come on your face if you do that now.”

“Want that too.” You pepper him with kisses across his chest while you undo his belt and unzip his trousers. When you finally lower his pants along with his boxer briefs, your mouth waters. He’s bigger than you thought he’d be when you grabbed him in his car last week. You need him in you, right fucking now.

But first thing first… he’s gonna pay for not making you come. You’ve been so desperate since the theater and by the looks of it, he’s no different. The head of his cock is an angry red and leaking with precum. You swipe it clean with your tongue and Javi’s hand immediately finds the back of your neck. You take his hard erection in your hand and start to jerk him off slowly, building a pace that you know will drive him mad. Javi has his eyes closed and his eyebrows furrowed deep, holding back from thrusting into your hand. 

You lick a long stripe from his balls to his tip and elicit a low moan from him. It’s addicting, listening to him. You do it a few more times until you feel his fingers curling on you. 

“Javi…” You let go of him and kiss your way up his stomach instead. He involuntarily sucks in and opens his eyes to you slipping his cock past your lips. He doesn’t stop you. The groan that comes out of him is so sinful it’s going to be permanently etched in your brain. His hand on your neck finds your ass and kneads it when you start working him slowly with your mouth. You gag a little when he hits the back of your throat. He’s a lot to take in; you don’t even get to the hilt, and you count your blessings for that.

You’re suddenly pulled away with a pop. He’s throbbing and from his breathing, he doesn’t look like he’s going to last long.

“You’re so big, Javi. Does it feel as good as it tastes?”

You start to take him into your mouth again but he grabs your arm to haul you to the center of the bed. He settles himself on you, rubbing up and down your opening with his cock. You start to meet his movement but he pins your hips down, restricting you.

“Come on, we’ve waited long enough,” you whine.

He lets his weight fall on you completely and hums his answer with his face pressed against the crook of your neck. He keeps thrusting on your pussy and you’re so, so, so close to sobbing from need.

“Javi,” you whine again into his ear, arms clinging to his broad form.

Javi sits on his knees, watching you writhe underneath him. If he doesn’t come within one minute of being inside you, he’ll consider it a miracle. It’s his own fault for dragging it out this long and now he’s the one moments away from exploding. It’s worth it because you’re so fucking beautiful being all needy for him. 

He grabs you closer by your calves and wraps your legs around his waist, cock notched right at your entrance. Javi pushes forward and the sound he makes when he enters you is the hottest thing you’ve ever heard. He works his way in slowly, letting you accommodate his girth. It’s a painful yet exquisite stretch.

You’ve never felt this full in your life. You’re not without experience, but the way Javi is filling you is something else. It’s not just his size, although that is a big part of it. It’s the way he’s gazing at you with so much tenderness. The way he’s moving as if he’s worshiping you with every stroke. The way he’s savoring this moment that you two have been waiting a ridiculously long time for. Your heart is full of–

“Baby. I don’t think I’ll last long.” Javi says with a strain in his voice. He’s holding back, with this languid (honestly, lazy) pace and he’s clenching his hands so hard you can see the veins in his forearms protruding. 

“I don’t care, Javi, just fuck me.”

He groans and starts to build a pace, gripping your thighs open. You throw your head back and hold on to the pillow closest to you. Javi’s eyes are glued to your tits bouncing by the impact of his thrusts and he tries to think of something, anything, except for the way your perfect body is responding to him right now. 

He remembers what you said about being essentially celibate since your last relationship and he doesn’t fight his curiosity. There’s a primal side of him that needs to know and the thought of your pathetic past conquests should buy him a couple more minutes, right?

“How long has it been for you, honey?”

“Mmmmm…” You roll your head back in pleasure, seemingly not hearing his question.

”When I ask something, I want an answer, sweetheart.”

“Two years? Mor–”

“Fucking unbelievable. This pussy should be fucked everyday, fuck.”

He curses between hard thrusts. Your mouth drops at his dirty talk and his pace increases to full on pounding. It doesn’t work. The thought of nothing having been inside you except for your own fingers and now him for that long is awakening something feral in him. 

You yelp. “Oh fuck yes, Javi…”

“Yeah? You’re gonna let me fuck this everyday?”

“Whenever you want. Please.”

“You’re so needy.” He looks down to where you’re joined before grabbing your ass and driving into you even harder. “So needy and sloppy and so. fucking. tight.”

The moan you let out is downright the filthiest thing he’s ever heard. And you? You barely hear his deep, delicious voice over your own moans and the sounds your bodies make. You can’t do anything but take, take, and take. You wish you could reciprocate but what leaves your mouth is only a blabber of cries and whines.

“You want to come?” Javi’s question snaps you out of your daze.

“Please, baby.”

“Then touch yourself and come.”

Javi pulls out of you and you gasp from the sudden emptiness. You sit up to reach for him but he moves further to the edge of the bed, his hand fisting his cock and pinching the end slowly, trying not to lose it.

“Javi, what the fuck?” You exclaim in despair.

“Let me see you touch yourself, babe. Come like that or not at all.”

“Oh my God, Javi.” You fall back on the bed in frustration. There is no way this is happening. “No…”

“Come, and I’ll fuck you again.”

You start reluctantly touching yourself slowly, hoping he’ll take pity on you and take over again. But he stays where he is, looking at your face, not even your body.

“If that’s how you touch yourself, no wonder you’re unsatisfied. Come on, make yourself feel good.”

You groan in defeat and he chuckles at you amusingly. Fine. You dip two fingers into your pussy and start moving them the way you usually do, and your other hand drops to your clit to rub it with your index finger. Your peak is approaching in no time, between your own familiar movements and watching Javi watching you. You start to arch off the bed when you’re close and suddenly your hands are taken off you and you’re flipped onto your hands and knees. 

Javi thrusts back inside you from behind without warning and resumes pounding you in earnest. “That’s right baby, take it… like you wanted… so fucking good for me…”

You come with a silent scream and Javi lets out a pained moan from you fluttering and spasming around his cock. His hands grip your waist to the point of almost hurting and he keeps steadily thrusting into you to seek his own release while you ride yours out.

He pulls you up against his chest by wrapping his arm around your tits and keeps hitting that devastatingly delicious spot inside you. With a few thrusts it starts you up again and you grind back on him, feeling the bump of his stomach on the small of your back with each contact. You look over your shoulder at his face and see that he’s in absolute bliss, but there’s something else there that’s a little bit… off. You don’t get to think too much about it once his fingers reach down to your clit and you start to tighten around his cock again, your hand reaching back to grab at his curls. 

“I’m coming, sweetheart. Fuck. Come with me. Come with me, honey.” Javi’s pace grows desperate and he’s so deep, so right inside you that you beat him to it. You shudder in his arms, going limp, but he doesn’t let up. “Tell me where.”

You sigh dreamily while you catch your breath. “Anywhere you want, daddy.” 

He pulls out and pushes you lightly to get back on your hands and knees and spills himself on the small of your back and between your cheeks. You lay down flat on your stomach, evening out your breaths, inhaling in the mixed scent of the two of you. 

It takes Javi a couple of minutes to collect himself before he kisses along your shoulder, up to your neck, your jaw, and finally your lips.

“You’re so fucking good, babe. Tightest pussy I’ve ever fucked.”

You giggle tiredly and lean onto him, welcoming his kisses while he cleans you up with his discarded shirt. “I need a drink. Then I want to ride you.”

✧

For the next four days, you barely leave the bed except to eat or use the bathroom. Just like Javi had promised. He didn’t get to cook dinner for you yet, because it’ll take too much time away from being inside of you. Everyday it’s like clockwork: one of you wakes the other up with your mouth, followed by breakfast in bed, or vice versa. Then shower, where he eats you out - he insists that he’s making up for your lost time. In the afternoons, Javi does some work while you read scripts or his books or nap. Then dinner, followed by fucking each other to sleep. Sometimes you interrupt him mid-task or wake him up in the middle of the night just because. And repeat.

It’s pure fucking bliss.

✧✧

“Javi. Fuck.”

“What’s up?”

“Everything is shutting down. Everything. Where the fuck are you?” Óscar’s voice sounds panicked through the phone. 

“I’m on leave, remember? What do you mean?”

“Strike, Javi. It’s all over the news. We gotta reschedule everything. We’re not even allowed to do anything.”

Javi swiftly opens his news app and sure enough, Óscar’s right. How did he miss this? Oh, right.

“Javi!!!”

“I’m here.”

“What do we do?”

Javi thinks for a moment but absolutely nothing comes to mind. This is completely novel for him. “We’ll figure it out. How long is this supposed to go on?”

“Two weeks. A month tops.”

“So there’s nothing to do. Keep everyone around, keep everyone updated, the usual.”

“We can’t, Javi. We’re not allowed to. We should just let them go for now, go see their families. They can’t be employed right now, same for us, by the way.”

“Dammit,” Javi runs a hand over his face. He’s only ever shut down production once, during The Last Sicario, when a rival family member felt misrepresented by his depiction of them and sent death threats to him and the crew. “Call it. Keep me posted.”

“Sure. One more thing, have you heard from our little starlet? I tried calling her all day, and her PA couldn’t reach her either. Her hotel said she’s not there.”

“Staying with a friend, maybe?” Javi feigns cluelessness.

“Can you try her? Let her know we’ll help her figure it out while this is going on.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Thanks, hermano.”

Guilt overcomes him once he hangs up and looks at you sleeping soundly, and naked, next to him. He’s betraying the closest friend he ever had and there would be no coming back from this if he found out. 

✧✧✧

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#fic: indiscreet #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #the unbearable weight of massive talent #javi gutierrez fanfiction #javi g fanfiction #javi gutierrez x reader #javi gutierrez x you #javi g x reader #javi g x you #pedrostories #pedro pascal smut #dieter bravo #the bubble #hollywood au

[starfxkr]

hollywood!kitten be walking around like this for john b's music video wondering why jj wont stop following her

#✨.txt #kitten!reader #hollywood au

[violettduchess]

Heya Violet! I'm going to request an ikevamp fic for the first time, so how about either of the Day 4 prompts for Leonardo? I'm excited to see what you come up with 👍

A/N: Hi @scorchieart 💜 Thank you for your request! This is for the Different Universe Same Love CCC hosted by @xxsycamore and @queengiuliettafirstlady

This combines scorchie's request with an anon request for Soulmates AU with Leonardo 💜

Leonardo x f reader

WC: 5254

"There is nothing more truly artistic than to love people." -Vincent Van Gogh 

“I hate this,” you grumble as you check your phone for the hundredth time. Where the hell is this place? It feels like it's been hours of California coastline rolling past your window. Beautiful, yes. But also so inconvenient. You lean forward towards the front of the town car.

“Abel, how much longer?”

Your driver glances at you in the rear-view mirror, smiling good-naturedly. 

“Another 15 minutes, chérie.”

You flop back into the cushioned leather, sighing. If you had known this would be a part of it, you would not have taken the role. 

Maybe. 

Ok, fine. You probably would have taken it anyway. 

The story of a woman who breaks all tradition to become a famous 19th century painter? You can practically hear Theo’s words in your ear all over again: “You want to be stuck in rom-coms forever or do you want to be taken seriously? Make art that matters?” The Dutchman is a tough agent, too direct for most actors’ fragile egos to handle but that’s why you like him. He is always honest with you.

Outside the town car window, the ocean continues to roll by, a blur of slate-gray and white. Picking up your phone for the hundredth time, you type in the name of the artist you’re on your way to see. 

Just like every time you’ve done it before, all you get is his Instagram page which is entirely too sparse and full of only half-finished paintings, close ups of brushes, a few small, charcoal sketches. Nothing about the man himself. 

You swipe Instagram away and tap on Spotify, closing your eyes and allowing a podcast about the Golden Age of Hollywood to help pass the remaining time.

“Love the vibe,” you murmur as you step out of the Mercedes, pushing up your tortoise-shell sunglasses in order to better take in the picturesque brown and white wooden house. It really does seem like something out of a Kinkade painting. It's perched on the edge of a plateau, facing a slope of green hillside that disappears into a smattering of gray rock. The rocks give way to a stretch of dark brown sand which leads you right to the blue-gray beauty of the Pacific Ocean. It's here the warm vibes end though. This beach is nothing like the sandy beaches of Southern California. This is something wilder, something sharper. There is no manicured, processed beach feeling here. This is nature allowing you into her world, the crashing of the waves onto the shore not an invitation but a reminder. You’re here with her permission.

Abel comes around, carrying your luggage and pauses, taking in the house. “It’s lovely,” he murmurs. 

You shoot him a Look. “It’s miles from just about anything. I hope Vlad knows what he’s doing.”

Vlad is the director of the film you are going to star in. The one who said you needed to spend some time with a real-life artist in order to understand the lifestyle, the thought process, the way of viewing the world. And he knew just the person. A friend of a friend, an artist of some small renown, who made money on the side by working as a consultant for various productions. He had invited you to stay with him for a few days, to teach you basic painting and drawing techniques so it would look realistic on film, and to answer any questions you had. Vlad vouched for him, claiming he was a good man, one he would trust his star with. 

You turn to Abel. “Only leave if I give you the sign.”

He smiles indulgently, placing a hand on your shoulder. “You’ll be fine. But I will wait until I see it.”

Steeling yourself, you gather your bags and make your way down the short driveway and up the dark wooden steps. There’s no doorbell so you knock loudly.

You aren’t sure what you expected. A man named Leonardo made you think he would be older with flowing white locks and a long wizard-like beard. What you did not expect was the door to be opened by a golden-eyed Adonis with ombre hair and one of the friendliest, most open smiles you’ve ever seen. 

“Benvenuta, cara mia. Welcome.”

That voice. Your heart is doing tiny backflips inside your chest as a horde of butterflies excitedly flutter their wings inside your stomach. It takes you a moment before you figure out the way words work again.

“Thank you.”

Behind your back, you wiggle two fingers at Abel furiously. 

The driver covers his grin with the back of his hand, nodding once to Leonardo in greeting before sliding back into the vehicle. He watches through the car window as Leo takes your bags and you follow him inside, the white wooden door closing behind you.

“Good luck, chérie,” he chuckles softly. Somehow, he is certain you will be just fine.

You are utterly charmed. The main house is small, and the guest house just behind it even smaller, but they are both unique, beautiful in their own ways. Everything is simple, clean. Wide windows keep the ocean in view at all times. In every room there is something to look at. A miniature painting of sunset over the water on the living room table. An antique nautical map hanging on the wall of the dining room. An oversized forest green couch that looks like it's just waiting for you to snuggle into it.

Leonardo has just brought your bags to the guest house, a one room structure with a brass bed, rustic homemade dresser, a small desk and a tiny en-suite bathroom.

“I know you are probably used to more luxurious accommodations.”

“No, this is lovely. Really.” You glance down at your phone, considering whether to post a picture to your socials and hear him laugh softly at the expression on your face. The sound settles itself into your bones, warm and welcoming.

“Reception is a bit shoddy out here. You have the best chance when you go to the living room.”

Tucking your phone into the back pocket of your jeans, you flash him a smile. “Thanks for the tip.”

He holds your gaze a moment and you feel like sand, being pulled towards an irresistible ocean. 

“You must be starving. Let’s eat before I show you my studio.”

With a pleasantly full stomach and a glass of red wine in hand, you step inside the studio and gasp. Gone are the clean lines, the simplistic beauty of the rest of the house. Here is a world of color and chaos, paint and pandemonium, art and anarchy. Canvases are everywhere, paint pots and brushes, charcoal and sketchbooks. And while it may look like mayhem, there is a truth about it that stirs something inside you. This is the man behind the easy-going smile. This is his heart and soul made tangible, made material. 

He notices the way you’re looking around, sees the look in your bright eyes and he knows that you see it, the love he has for his craft. You're not some Hollywood actress looking down her nose at a mess. You're one artist taking in another artist’s medium and appreciating it. His heart unexpectedly shifts, sliding closer to some unseen edge. 

“This is…incredible.” You walk slowly through the space, stopping in front of whatever catches your eye. A half-finished sketch of a whale breaching the surface of the water. An anatomically correct drawing of the underside of a starfish. A canvas of yellows and oranges and reds, a practice in blending.

“How come I’ve never seen you post a finished painting on your social media?” You stop when you come to a whole row of them, leaning casually against the back wall of his studio. Crouching down, you inspect a painting of a man from behind, his arms spread out wide towards a turbulent, white-capped ocean, daring it maybe. Or welcoming it.

He shrugs, running his hand through his hair, a tick you’ll come to recognize as something he does when he is uncomfortable.

“I sell a few here and there. Not enough to earn a living but that’s what jobs like this are for, yeah?”

You rise slowly back to full height, taking a sip of the rich wine.

“Have you ever showcased your work?”

He scoffs as he lifts a paint-stained rag from one corner of his supply table and toys with it before tossing it right back.

“To what end? I paint for me. That is enough.”

That sounds like someone who is too scared to try. But you keep the words locked in your mind, aware enough to know that might be reaching a bit too deeply into his psyche for comfort.

“So….when do we begin?”

He smiles slowly and it burns through your body, warming you more than the alcohol.

“Tomorrow. Sunrise.”

All those hours you could still be sleeping. Instead of being warm and snug in your very cozy guesthouse, you are shivering on a beach, sitting on a blanket next to Leonardo as he flips open the sketchbook in front of you. He’s in an oversized brown knit sweater and jeans, looking like a model for some outdoor clothing company whereas you, trying to pull your fitted sweater down over your exposed lower back, look like some Hollywood wanna-be who wasn’t prepared for the cold California morning.

He places several small gray pebbles in front of you on the blanket.

“Sketch these.”

You tilt your head. “They’re rocks.”

“There is challenge in even the simplest of forms. Please try.”

You’re skeptical as you yank down once more on your sweater, sitting cross-legged and staring down at the pebbles. It can’t be that hard. Picking up the pencil, you begin trying to capture their form. 

It proves to be much harder than it looks. 

Your brow furrows as you look from your sketch, which is doing a fantastic job of being horrible, to the smooth stones in front of you.

“You must relax,” he murmurs as he scoots closer. “You’re gripping that poor pencil like you wish to strangle it.” He reaches over, covering your hand with his. You’re immediately hit with the faint smell of tobacco. Does he smoke? And something else….something earthy and rich and entirely too appealing for this early in the morning. His fingers, graceful and strong, carefully manipulate yours, sliding over your skin and leaving small ripples of heat in their wake. He touches your wrist, over the place where your heart is beating so quickly, tilting it just so. 

He holds you there, moving your hand like a puppeteer might the wooden cross of marionette. You watch as the pebbles slowly come to life, flowing from the tip of your pencil.

“Let go,” his voice, gentle as the morning breeze, deep as the sea, whispers in your ear. “You must let go and allow the pencil to do its job.”

Slowly he removes his hand and the sudden lack of contact spurs a tiny whimper from your throat. Luckily, he mistakes it for dismay at his lack of coaching and chuckles.

“You continue on your own, cara mia.”

You’ve been called many things: The Girl Next Door, America’s Sweetheart but somehow, that nickname rolling so casually off his tongue suddenly means more than any of that. You’re smiling despite the cold, despite the wind, despite your stupid, impractical sweater.

Inhaling, you try again, the pencil less a tool in your hand as an extension of it. And while your pebbles don’t look amazing, they do look much closer to what you are trying to accomplish. 

“Well done,” he says, looking over your shoulder. “You're a quick learner.”

You smile at him, his words washing over you, warm as sunshine.

“Can I try something else? Maybe try the sand and the ocean?”

He nods, reaching for the hem of his sweater. The next thing you know he’s removed it and wrapped it around your shoulders, leaving you surrounded by soft wool that smells like Leonardo. Your heart stumbles.

“Si. Let’s try.”

My life has never been this disconnected from work and yet, so full, you think as you wrap the beige blanket tighter around your body, watching Leonardo paint. You’re sitting outside on the large porch, the breathtaking view of the sand dunes, the boulders, the sand and the endless sea stretched out before you like a slice of paradise.

You’ve been here almost a week and the world has changed. The bright lights of Hollywood seem so far away. Now you’re concerned with daylight and sunrises, the way light falls across an object or a person, how to capture its essence with charcoal and acrylics, watercolor and wax. You haven't even touched your phone other than to reassure Theo you are fine, doing well and learning a lot, soaking in the experience of being an artist so that you can find it again when the cameras are on you. You’ve abandoned your socials, only leaving a message saying something about the life of an actor and secret prep work that you can’t talk about. It’s technically not a lie.

You watch as Leonardo dips his brush into a red that looks far too bright and finds a way to make it exactly the right shade of sunset, adding an element to his painted sky that you didn’t even know was missing until he put it there. He’s relaxed, his body loose, movements like flowing water as he almost lovingly drags the brush along the canvas. He showed you how, a few mornings ago. You’ve been haunted ever since by the feel of his larger body behind you, the way he reached around, gently taking hold of your wrist, and showed you how to hold yourself, teaching your body the dance of a painter. He is patient, always answering any question of yours the best he can. And so intelligent. The other night you curled up on his overstuffed green couch to look through several of his notebooks, filled with sketches and half-finished designs for contraptions that looked more sci-fi than present day. One entire page was devoted entirely to drawing various animal wings. The next was an excruciatingly detailed drawing of his own hand.

He talks about art the way you talk about acting: a way to conduct emotion, to spark a connection between people. You feel like he understands when you explain how acting is a form of devotion to humanity, an expression of love. Most people roll their eyes when an actor begins talking about their craft. His smile tells you all you need to know about how well he truly does understand. 

He shakes you from your reverie when he joins you on the bench, wiping his hands on a towel and reaching for his glass of wine.

“And? What do you think?”

You tilt your head, pretending to study the easel with its beautiful interpretation of the actual sunset that is happening behind it. He has not replicated it exactly, but captured the symphony of colors, the dramatic brass of the oranges and romantic woodwinds of the pinks, the clouds with their warmly colored underbellies and of course, the ever present sea, gilded in gold.

“It’s beautiful, Leo.” 

“You like it, which means I’m pleased.” He takes another sip. “Consider it a gift, yeah?. It is, after all, our last weekend together.”

Those words carve themself into the moment, slicing away the peace you’ve been feeling. Dismay bleeds from your heart. You were going to have to face it, the fact that your time with him, magical as it has been, is coming to an end. But you had hoped, irrationally, that maybe if no one said it, you could just stay here, in this beautiful house with this beautiful man as long as you wanted.

Your face, the tool of your trade that you can usually control so well, betrays your thoughts.

“Cara mia.” He reaches out, his fingers curling inwards for a moment, hesitant. The man who never has a problem touching you when correcting your hand or positioning your arm now needs a moment of courage. Because this isn’t a teaching moment. Maybe none of them ever really were. He only knows that from the second he opened the front door and you were there, with your smile like sunshine and eyes bright with intelligence and excitement, he felt drawn to you like he's never been toward anyone before.

You turn your face into his touch, reaching up to cup your hand over his. You press a kiss into his palm. The lull of the waves is drowned out by the roaring of your heartbeat. And then he leans towards you, taking your face in his beautiful hands, and he kisses you. 

Your heart cracks open and oceans of desire and want and something else, something nameless underneath those wild waves of emotion flood you. He feels so good. This feels so right.

You kiss with the exhilaration of new lovers, wildly and without a care for anything else in the world. The sunset and her majestic colors be damned. There is nothing as beautiful as the wildfire of gold in his eyes, the melody of his breathing. You’re on his lap, arms wrapped tightly around his neck, pressed as closely as you can be and it isn’t enough. He slides his hands under your blouse, pressing the palms of his hands to your bare back. It isn’t enough.

You manage to tear your mouth away from him long enough to get out one word: “Inside.”

He stands up and you wrap your legs around him, his strong arms supporting your weight as he carries you inside the wooden house on the plateau, impatiently stealing every kiss he can before laying you down on the oversized green couch, covering your body with his. He softly growls your name in a way that sends fire cascading through your veins.

The sky outside darkens as the last rays of sunset disappear. Her show is over. You both belong now to the night.

Heart, say good-bye because you are no longer mine. You lay on your side, facing the open window of Leonardo’s bedroom. The ocean breeze, cool with night’s kiss, waves the pale curtains and skims over your skin, raising goosebumps along your bare arm and shoulder. 

You close your eyes, reveling in the heavy feeling of your body, tempest-tossed and satisfied, peppered with the light marks of your lovemaking. You're a goner. You’ve fallen overboard, heading further and further down into the churning depths of your feelings for Leonardo. And you’re not sinking. Not at all. You’re kicking your legs and diving, excited to explore the deep and all its mysteries.

He stirs in his sleep and you roll back to face him, watching as he slowly surfaces from whatever dream he was lost in. His warm eyes, framed by such dark lashes, flutter open. When he sees you, laying on your side, facing him, he smiles slowly and reaches out a hand.

“Come here, cara mia.”

The thought of resisting doesn’t even cross your mind. You slide over into his arms, marveling at the feel of his body against yours, strong muscles, long legs. He presses a kiss to your temple, then nuzzles your neck affectionately.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

You smile, tipping your head up to meet his gaze. Now may not be the right time to tell him everything you’re thinking. You don’t want to scare him away.

“No thoughts. Just....” You slide your hand over his chest, over the lean muscles of his abdomen, and then lower. His golden eyes flare bright with immediate hunger. His lips part as he exhales.

With a groan he pulls you to him and you close your eyes, letting his greedy mouth and wandering hands take you away.

This is only the beginning after all. You have plenty of time to figure out what's next. 

A Year Later

“Now that’s just one review! The rest are all like it!”

You listen to Theo’s exuberant voice as he names all the various publications that are writing rave reviews about the film. Funny, everything you thought you ever wanted is coming true. You made a movie that is earning positive reviews across the board, with your performance hailed as a stand out, a tour de force unlike anything you’ve ever done. There’s already talk about awards and other dramatic parts and are you interested in endorsements?

And yet, you’re miserable.

Leaning back into the plush seat of the town car, you stop Theo’s voice message and tap on Instagram and, like a lemming drawn to a cliff, go to his page.

All comments are turned off and there is only one picture posted: a short message thanking people for their interest but he is on hiatus.

The post is six months old.

How did it all go so wrong? You had been so happy.

Your eyes fall closed and memories play themselves out in front of you, like a flickering movie reel from yesteryear.

You and Leonardo on his porch, cuddled together under a blanket as you watch the sunrise. He can’t stop touching you and you him.

Driving with him back to Southern California, his eyes widening when you pull into the driveway of your home, modest by Hollywood standards, a palace compared to his small wooden dwelling.

Your pool. Cold water. Hot mouths. His hand pressed against your lips, stifling your sounds even as he continues moving.

The paparazzi finding you after a few days of blissful privacy, snapping a shot of you two leaving Starbucks, his hand casually resting on your hip, thumb stroking the stripe of bare skin between your jeans and the hem of your shirt.

Your names splashed across gossip sites and social media. He gains thousands of followers in a matter of hours, people hoping he’ll post an image of the two of you together. An older picture of him from several years ago at an art gallery opening in SoHo is all they have and it is everywhere. And it is not enough. They want more.

They follow you home. They follow you to work. They follow you when you go out to eat. They follow you to appointments, to meetings, across town and back. They yell your name, they ask about him. They are relentless.

And then they start to follow him. To your home. To the restaurant where you’re meeting. To his home. They wait by the wooden house on the plateau, hoping to catch a glimpse of you and him. They yell your name, they ask about rumors, they demand to know when the wedding is.

They swarm you both like locusts blocking out the sun, sucking up all your air.

And then his paintings begin to sell. Never has there been such a demand. He can’t keep up. And he isn’t happy.

Because he says he did nothing to deserve it aside from being with you. No one cared before. He has not earned this success. It’s the side-effect of loving you. Side-effect, you repeat one night, staring at him across your marble kitchen island, that makes it sound like loving me is some kind of disease.

He cures himself by leaving. You wake up one morning and all his things are gone. He is a ghost who has vanished back into the nether of sea-spray and morning fog from whence he came.

All he leaves you with is a note, the paper torn from one of his notepads, in his messy, slanted writing: “I’m sorry.”

A note, and all the splinters of your broken heart.

And now you’re almost at your destination. The tiny bed-and-breakfast tucked away in a remote corner of the California coast. Your refuge from the rest of the world. The place you come to heal.

You’ve been here a few times since he left. The owners, Wolf and Jean, are like family. They took care of you before you became successful, when you were a starving artist looking for your big break, and have continued to do so even now, when you could easily stay at any five-star hotel across the globe but always come back here, to warmth and comfort.

The first time you came here after he left, they filled your room with macaroons, your favorite dessert. They must have heard the news from some entertainment program or maybe some celebrity news ticker. You could have killed the Starbucks barista who spoke to the press, saying how you suddenly were coming alone to pick up your coffee and how pale you were, your eyes red from crying.

Another time they subtly laid a newspaper on your bed. At first you weren’t sure why but then you saw the tiny article about Leonardo having a small but successful showing in Denmark, worlds away from the bright lights of Hollywood. Like a 1950’s schoolgirl, you had cut out the small black and white picture of him and folded it, hiding it in your wallet. Doing so felt both pathetic and comforting at the same time.

Another winding road, dipping between tree and rocky coast and then one final turn. The familiar blue and white building comes into sight and you can feel yourself breathing easier already.  The car slows to a stop and a moment later, Abel opens the door for you.

“We’re here, chérie.” His champagne-colored eyes have a twinkle to them which leaves you wondering if he knows something you don't.

Forever ago, this place used to scare you with its pointed roof and close proximity to the edge of a very steep cliff. But it’s become your home away from home and you’re soothed by the sight of it.

“I’ll just get my—” Your weekend bag is already on the ground next to you and the town car is halfway down the drive. You frown slightly before hoisting up your bag. Well, he was sure in a hurry.

You bound up the familiar steps, opening the friendly blue door and step into the foyer.

“Jean? Wolf?”

Odd, they would normally be here to meet you, food and drink in hand.

You glance around, taking out your phone to make sure that you had sent them the correct date and time when you spot something hanging on the wall. Your fingers go numb and your phone falls, landing with a harmless thud on the thick carpeting.

Hanging on the wall is a new painting. It’s a woman, sitting on a beach at sunrise, wrapped up in an oversized, cozy brown sweater. Her head is tipped back, eyes closed, a serene expression on her face. It’s soft and romantic. Not a brushstroke wasted nor a color excessive. 

The sea is a deep gray-blue. 

The sky is a garden of pinks and lavenders and orange. 

The woman is you.

You open your mouth to say something but nothing comes out. 

How....

“Cara mia.”

Like an apparition he is suddenly standing there, in the doorway. Not some memory or picture or dream, but Leonardo, flesh and blood, right there in the same room as you. The sight of him hits you like the full force of a typhoon, draining all the color from your face and sending you back a step.

As you recover from your shock, you notice now how nervous he is. His hands, normally so strong and steady, whether creating art or touching you, are shaking. He has dark circles under his golden eyes, shadows of what has been haunting him.

“Leonardo.” His name is twisted upon itself, hollow and aching when it passes your lips. 

“May I speak? I have something to say to you. Please."

You nod, your breath held prisoner in your lungs, your wounded heart limps in circles in your chest, aching at the sight of him.

He draws a deep breath.

“I was a fool. I pushed you away because I was afraid. Your world is so much bigger than mine and instead of joining you, proud to be by your side, learning how to navigate new waters, I ran.” He pushes a hand through his hair, an inhale needed to steady his nerves. “That was wrong. I hurt you. I’m so sorry, cara mia. So deeply sorry for how stupid I was. I…I regretted it immediately but it was too late...Dio, sono un idiota.” 

He shakes his head, defeated. The failure of words in the face of what he did is stark and he finds himself unable to go on. Nothing can begin to explain the festering regret he's lived with from the moment he walked out your door. He isn't good enough with words to explain how the minute he was heading away from you all he wanted to do was to turn back. How without you the world was drained of its vivacity, its color. He trapped himself in a gray existence of his own making and now his escape lies solely in your hands.

You breathe in and out, taking a moment before you respond.

"You did hurt me. Badly. But…." You take a second, searching for the right words. "I could have helped prepare you for what it means to be with someone like me. It was so much to ask of you to just be ok with your life suddenly being turned upside down. For that, I'm sorry."

Silence grows between you, thick as brambles and just as thorny.  Neither of you can meet the other's gaze. It hurts, every second that ticks by without a word. Neither of you knows what to say, neither wants to leave. It is Leonardo who finally clears his throat, a throat where so many words are bottlenecking in their fury to get out.

"I'll leave you in peace then." 

The words are clipped, his accent thick as emotion chokes him. The final, tenuous connection between you is close to crumbling. He's about to turn away when one word shoots straight from your heart like a rocket.

"Wait!!"

He freezes, his sunrise gaze locking with yours. Dare he have hope…..

The minute you start towards him he rushes to meet you.

And then you're in his arms and your cheeks are wet and he's holding you so tightly your ribs feel crushed but it doesn't matter because he's turning and turning, the world is spinning, your heart is rising light as a feather, and then your feet touch the ground again and he's showering your face with kisses, painting you in his love, holding the back of your head, whispering your name breathlessly over and over and over, a song, a declaration, a prayer.

You hold on to his neck, your laughter as bright as sunlight across the waves, returning his kisses with ones of your own, all over his beautiful face, kisses pulsing with hope, with desire, with promise.

He leans back, lowering his mouth to your ear and whispers. His words engrave themselves onto your heart and you pull away to answer him the only way you can answer something like that: with a kiss deep as the sea, tender as the night.

You've found each other again. And you'll never again be parted.

(What did he whisper? This fic is acrostic so check out the first bold word of every section) 💜

Tagging: @aquagirl1978 @alixennial @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @rhodolitesrose @ikemen-writer @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @redheadkittys @dear-mrs-otome @firestar-otomeobsessed @curious-skybunny @kpop-and-otome @writingwhimsey @mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @otomefoxystar @tele86 @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight

#ikemen series #ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikevamp leonardo #ikemen leonardo #leonardo da vinci #celebrity au #hollywood au #soulmate au #artist au #different universe same love ccc #ikemen fanfic #ikemen fanfiction #otome fanfic #violettwrites

[shadowtoons]

Hollywood au

Harold is a villain actor (well known for it)

But behind the scenes he is a kind chill guy

#Harold Noxious #Hollywood au #my character

[fuukonomiko]

More Actor/Hollywood BES AU

Thank you for the reception to the first set, I and my fellow conspirators BES nutjobs fans have more for you!

Ringo's 'hands' are actually prosthesis, unbeknownst to his fans. This is what they see when he is actually playing a concert. He takes them off when shooting for the series. His portrayal is true to his disability. (courtesy of @kaladinkholins ) It's a shocker when they discover he has no hands. Mikio is one of those amazing singer actors. Like he would be hella famous and getting roles in musicals/movies with songs. (Which is like every movie-) Then like a news publisher like tmz releases the fact Mizu and him was married and they released the divorce papers somehow to hurt Mizu’s career (from @doughnutshi )

Mizu's actress had been a child actor/Disney sitcom type and this is her first like adult role (by @apatheticallyromantic ) Mizu was one of those who started as a ten year old in a sitcom. She disappeared for a few years to 'find herself' and returned as an ass-kicking hero. The pegging scene with Fowler was one of the longest repetitive takes they did because Ise's actress kept laughing while ducked behind the counter. She had a hard time seeing through the mask and would accidentally poke Fowler's actor where she wasn't supposed to (he was wearing shorts the whole time and was such a good sport about it). Takayoshi's star used to be the lead singer in the hottest boyband in town. He turned to acting after they disbanded. When he shaved his hair for the role, his army of fans just about died.

Sword Father Eiji is legally blind and this helps with his portrayal. He usually orients himself prior to any shoot. He brings to set his guide dog, a black labrador named Boba. (@lillyblogsmizu)

The actress playing Kinuyo is the lead singer of a punk band. She is almost unrecognizable without her signature smeared mascara, powder white face and black lipstick. She has amazing, screeching, four octave vocals.

On downtime, the actors would hang out and jam. Takayoshi and Kinuyo would take turns singing or have duets, with Ringo providing guitar. Mizu sometimes joins in with her drums. 

Heiji Shindo’s actor is a known method actor and absolute prankster. He likes leaving gag gifts for the actors. His favorite target of shenanigans is Madam Kaji and Daichi Tokonobu as they all used to star in the same sitcom.

MORE BES HOLLYWOOD AU HERE

#Blue Eye Samurai #Netflix #Mizu #I love this show so much #Mizu is the baddest badass #hollywood au #actor au #master eiji #kinuyo #takayoshi blue eye samurai #takayoshi itoh

[thisisanewlowes]

Money Can't Buy You Love | Masterlist

Pairing: Hollywood AU!Jake Seresin x Reader

Summary: Jake Seresin is one of the biggest celebrities in Hollywood. He's also the industry's most infamous playboy. All set to star in what's shaping up to be the most highly anticipated film of the year, Jake's lifestyle comes into question when he meets his director's daughter... and finds himself falling fast.

Warnings: age gap, allusions to smut, future smut, unbalanced power dynamics, Jake is a pretty boy asshole (but you already knew that)

A/N: This AU is a part of the larger A-List Universe

Here's the link to be added to the tag list for this story!!

Minors DNI !! 18+ Only

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Prologue

Chapter One (Coming Soon...)

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Tag List: 

@environmental-gbcd @seresinsbrat @miselaneas @fantoz  @sailor-aviator @teacupsandtopgun @goldenseresinretriever@seresinsweetie @thedroneranger @attapullman @floydsglasses @mrsrobertfloyd @djs8891 @queenslandlover-93 @paigewinchester67@roosterforme @tgmrooster @topguncortez @seresinhangmanjake @callsigncurse @callsigncowboy @callsign-daydream@teacupsandtopgun @acewritesfics @missathlete31 @themissingmango @blue-aconite @whatislovevavy @sunlightmurdock @bradshawbaby @averyhotchner

#top gun #top gun maverick #glen powell #hangman #hangman top gun #hangman x reader #jake seresin smut #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin fic #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #hollywood au #a-list universe #actor!jake