#expect to be hear me outed | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

etherealily · 26 days ago

Text

ᴛʜᴇ ɢᴏʟᴅᴇɴ // ɴ.ᴊ [2]

Hi everyone! Hope you're fine. If not, enjoy being better than Nate (you always were, but this is just confirmation)!

This is part two of a two-part fic. [Queued + not proofread]

[Part 1 here.]

Nate Jacobs x fem!reader. SFW, but discretion advised. Masochism(?), violence, delusion.

You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.

Desc. : He's in way over his head.

═══════════════════ ⋆⋅🥂⋅⋆ ═══════════════════

The shadows of cars passing by his window infuriated him. The sound of McKay's breathing on the ground below him set his teeth on edge. The thought of you getting felt up by some hot rich actor guy made him want to end it all.

"Chris."

A hum.

"McKay."

"Kill yourself, Jacobs.", he whined, turning away from the bed and burying his face in the pillow he'd laid for himself on the ground. Hangovers suck ass.

"I'm going to that fucking party, dude."

"What party?", he groaned, petulantly, eyes still squeezed shut, but he sat up to humour him.

"The one at The Golden."

"Why?"

"Why do you think?"

"Y/N? For real, man?"

"We know each other. She'll let me in."

"Oh, after a thirty second interaction you're homies? Chill, man."

"You know Maddy's babysitting job? Well, they hosted some party. And Maddy met Y/N. And now they're, like tight."

"Nah, you're bullshittin'."

"We went to Y/N's birthday."

McKay scoffed, muttering 'cap' under his breath as he reached in the dark for his phone, looking up your name followed by 'birthday'.

Nate rolled his eyes, getting down onto the floor to scroll past all the meaningless rich twinks to find himself and Maddy. "There."

McKay's eyes widened and he laughed in shock. "No fucking way! You could've introduced me, FUCK. She wanted me bad, too."

"You think she wanted you?'

"Fuck yeah, man, you saw how she was look- CHRIST, man, you'd have been invited to our wedding. Our billion dollar wedding."

Nate laughed, smacking McKay's arm a little too hard for it to be joking. "Not if she's out there gettin' felt up by, like, Justin-what's-his-face."

"So you think I have a shot?" Whatever got this guy out of bed and up with him.

"Yeah, man. You might dick her down tonight, if we're fast enough."

McKay leaped up. "What's in it for you, though?", he questioned, as he put on a shirt.

"She's one of Maddy's girlfriends. If she gets roofied, Maddy's gonna kill me."

Lies rolled so easily off his tongue that he had to genuinely wonder when the lessons he learnt in elementary school had eroded away to the back of his conscience.

That seemed acceptable enough for McKay.

Good. Because now he was gonna have to deal with Ray, and he couldn't do that shit alone.

══════════════════ ⋆⋅🥂⋅⋆ ══════════════════

"Man, I don't even know how long it's been seein' you, dawg!"

What the fuck? What the FUCK? McKay and Ray were homies?

"Nate, man, this is my uncle, bro!"

OH. OH FUCK, YEAH!

The hug between the two lasted a little longer and then McKay turned to Ray again. "We can go in, yeah, Uncle Ray? C'mon. Y'ain't gonna ID us, are you?"

"Not you, son, but I can't let him in."

"Why not?"

"He's been banned from the club."

McKay frowned, licking his lips as he looked between Nate and Ray. Fuck. "Nah, nah, you're trippin', Uncle R. Ain't no way. He's, like, nobody, he's never even been here before."

A silent conversation happened between Ray and Nate, one spoken through their eyes, and then Ray huffed. "If anyone asks, you snuck in.", he said, unclasping the barrier so they could walk in. Clearly guilt was a useful blackmail tool.

Nate immediately found you. McKay was still searching.

"Hey, during the party, she spent a lot of time in the bathrooms with her girlfriends, man, maybe you should check there."

McKay shrugged, nodding. "Let me know if you find her here, though, alright?", he asked, patting him on the back before weaving through the crowd towards the bathrooms, aka, the opposite side of the club to where you were.

Was it a dick move? Yeah.

But did he give a shit? No.

He shouldered through the hordes of whores, trying to keep his eyes on you. And before long, he was standing in front of you.

"How the hell did you get in here?"

"Do you wanna fuck McKay?"

"Who the fuck's McKay?"

"McKay. Don't fuck with me, you know him."

"No, dude, who the fuck's McKay?"

"The guy with me in the car tonight, he's my homie, and I don't want him to get his heart broken!"

"Dude- he hasn't even asked me out yet! I'm not breaking his fuckin' heart! Chill, man! It's like you have a fucking vendetta against me, and I don't think that's righ--"

He didn't know why he thought kissing you would smooth your temper over. Okay, no, that was a lie. He knew. He definitely knew. He often used that trick with Maddy to calm her down, but he hadn't remembered that you weren't a girlfriend, and you were entirely well within your rights to-

Yup. You slapped him.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!"

"Sorry, Jesus, I'm sorry, I'm still a bit tipsy!"

"Who the fuck even let you in? And aren't you with Maddy?"

That he wanted to answer. "NO! No, I'm not! Because someone convinced her I was 'toxic' and 'abusive'!"

"What? Who?"

"YOU!"

"I didn't say that shit! I don't know half of your guys' story, dude!"

He paused. "Bullshit."

"You think Maddy tells me all that shit? I didn't even know you guys were together until my party!"

"So, you weren't out to break us up?"

You scoffed, sipping on your vodka spritz as you glared up at him. "For what purpose?"

"I dunno, you hated me."

"I didn't hate you. I was pissed at you. There's a difference."

His eyes darted around the room for a moment before they landed back on yours. "Sorry. I… sorry."

Ew, ew, ew. He hated saying that shit.

"What the fuck are you even doing back here? Shouldn't you be at home? 'S a school night!"

"I'm in some trouble!", he yelled over the sound of the bass dropping. "I got mugged!"

No, seriously. His elementary school teacher who diligently wrote 'honesty is the best policy' on the board every morning would have an aneurysm.

"You WHAT?!"

He turned out his pockets. "No wallet, no keys, no nothing!"

"Why'd you even come back out?! Did you call the police?"

"Yeah, my buddy McKay did! They're tracking my phone but I need somewhere to crash!"

"What about where I dropped you off? Maddy's?"

Those options would be good if he was actually in that situation. He decided to ignore them.

"Your place?" His alibi was not airtight, but he knew you were too pissed to actually put two and two together right now.

"My place is in New York!"

"What? Where was your party, then?!", he shouted, watching you sip your drink.

"That's my parents' place. Y'know, the one whose floor you covered in champagne and glass?"

"Sorry about that."

You ignored him, instead huffing and taking out your phone.

"Call Henry Donovan.", you instructed, and the sound of ringing emerged.

"Hey, what's up, gorgeous?"

"I'm at The Golden, but a friend needs help, so I gotta cancel, we should reschedule!"

"You got it."

The call ended and Nate's jaw dropped. "You're fucking Henry Donovan?"

"Shut up."

"You're not denying it."

"I'm not confirming it either."

"Schrodinger's dick, then."

════════════════════ ⋆⋅🥂⋅⋆ ═══════════════════

Nate lost sleep that entire night.

He almost lost his mind when he heard echoes of what sounded like plates sliding over each other. Sitting up, he squinted his eyes.

"Did I wake you?", you asked, looking up from your phone.

"No."

"You want pizza?"

Your hand gripped a wine bottle, of which, like, half had been drunk already.

Fuck. He had to be extra careful. He'd never seen you drunk, and he didn't know if you'd be more mellow or more volatile. With his luck, it was the latter.

"It's three in the morning.", he scoffed, removing the blanket before standing up to join you at the island - the fucking beautiful kitchen island - while rubbing his face. "Yes."

You slid the plate of pizza over to him.

"So, how come Mr. Donovan didn't spend the night giving you mediocre sex and LV gifts?"

You snickered, incredulously. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, what?"

"What?", he asked, defensively.

"You've got some incredible stereotypes attributed to me, y'know that?"

"C'mon, you're denying it? Okay, listen, you're a total smokeshow, you know that, but the problem with that is that you get cocky about it."

"Do I?"

"Mhm. Like right now. You didn't deny the fact that you're a smokeshow. You're not even pretending to be humble."

"Should I have?"

He frowned, eyes dancing around the room for a second. "No. Would've been obvious."

Silence, a painful one.

"Dude, this is so weird.", you laughed, shaking your head and rubbing your hands over your face. "You're the last person I'd have ever let into my house." He opened his mouth to retort, so you quickly added, "For a second time."

"Okay, but… I mean." he began, swallowing before continuing, "Henry Donovan, really? Look at him, Jesus.'

"Exactly. Jesus."

Uh, no. That's not what you're supposed to be saying. "No, I mean, he's hot and all, but you were right. He's just a dick and abs. What else does he got?"

You frowned, plucking a tomato off and tossing it to the side of the pizza box. "What else do you got?"

"A personality, for one thing? Balls, for the other. Face it, the guy's a dork trapped in a frat boy body, blessed with Daddy's money and Mommy's estate."

"Why do you know so much about him?"

Why did he know so much about him? He wanted to say Maddy, that would make it better, but he knew that if he did, well, you'd definitely catch onto the lie. So he decided bending the truth would be better.

"I looked him up. For some research project for Econ, I had to go through his family's financial history." First part : true. Second part : false, but no regrets.

"Oh. What kinda weird ass Econ proj-"

He waved you off. "My teacher's a psycho. Uh, so, what movie are you shooting in Scotland?"

"We're trying to keep it under wraps, so I'm obligated to not tell you."

"That's no fun. C'mon, okay, wait, at least gimme a hint."

You licked your lips, narrowing your eyes for a moment before letting them dance around the room. "Your best friend, Mr. Donovan will be in it.'

Jesus Christ. He scoffed, leaning his forearms on the counter next to you. "And you thought that was a good investment? He can't act for shit."

"He did well in-"

"Those were all sappy romance movies where the character just had to be hot enough to impress lonely, middle aged women. But isn't this movie a serious one?"

You shrugged, popping open a coke as you sat up on the counter, looking down at him, "Yeah, but he's the popular thing this season. So he'll sell."

"What about the art, though?"

"The art?"

"You're directing this one, too, right? So, what about your artistic vision?"

You stayed silent for a while, and Nate decided that was the perfect opportunity to swoop in with the final blow. "His bad acting will fuck the entire thing up."

"You really think so?"

"This is his, what, third movie? And the first two were bought by Daddy's connections. He didn't exactly get in on his acting chops."

Yes, he was talking him down when he had never seen a single one of his movies, but no, he didn't even feel the slightest bit guilty about it, because honestly, FUCK HENRY DONOVAN.

"It's too late, though. There's no way I can just kick him off the project now."

"Then minimize his role."

The corners of your lips turned downwards. You were considering it. "Are you sure he's that shitty at acting? I mean, I've seen his movies, he isn't that-"

He nodded. "Totally."

You bit the inside of your cheek as you listened to him.

He decided moving closer wouldn't really hurt, yeah? So he did. And you glared at him so hard, he felt like it was the first time he'd ever seen you all over again. An angel staring at dirt under her gaze.

And he fucking loved it. He loved being nothing. Because him being nothing to you was so unnecessarily sexy to him, he almost got a semi because of it.

"What did you mean when you said The Golden wasn't my world?"

You frowned, looking down at him as he sat on the chair with his forearms just barely brushing the side of your knee. "You really need that one analyzed?"

"It doesn't make sense. I fit right in there."

"Nate, if you fit in, you'd have been let in, instead of having to sneak in."

"Okay, so I'm not, like, uber-rich. So what? Most people aren't. But I'm well off. My family owns half of East Highland. Past Kemper, all the apartments are mine."

"Mine owns half the city." As cold and badass of a line that might have been, it was evident to him that that was meant to be gentle, and lacking in conceit.

He sighed. "So if I had money, that would be fine? I could get into The Golden?"

"No. Y- no. It's not just money. Duncan Martin? The little stocky brunette? He's got no money, but it's… his family used to have money, so he-"

"You realize how fucking elitist you sound right now, right?"

You huffed, running your hands through your hair in frustration. "I know, trust me, but it's-"

"It's fucking discriminatory."

"Look! You can't just come to a club for celebrities and ask why they only let in celebrities! It's STUPID! Like, asking why a high school doesn't let in toddlers! It just doesn't make sense! High schoolers should be in high school, toddlers should be in preschool, celebrities should be in The Golden, and you-"

"Should be with the rest of the normie peasants. Right?"

"It's not- I'm not the enemy, Jacobs. Okay? It's just how it is. It's not an attack on you." That was the only thing you'd said the entire night that made even an iota of sense.

Okay. Acceptable.

A while later, he's back with the bullshit. "So. Henry Donovan. You're fucking?"

"What is your problem?"

"He's just not… I dunno. Doesn't seem your type."

You scoffed. "And how would you know my type?"

"I can tell.", he replied, holding your jaw and moving your head from side to side, laughing as you slapped his hand away. "I'm guessing you're not into gays."

"He's not gay!"

"Denial, Madam Celebrity, isn't just a river in Egypt, y'know?", he stated, in an accent he wished he could take back immediately.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes and he tilted his head, looking up at you.

He moved even closer, shaking his head. "Trust me. I'm a guy. We've got a radar for this thing. Look, if you put me and him in a room, you'll see I have higher levels of both talent and heterosexuality in my little finger than he has in his whole twink body."

You snickered. "You're a dick."

"And he likes dick."

"Hey, I got kind of a gay vibe from you, too."

His smile dropped momentarily. "What?"

"I dunno, like, I thought you were, at the very least, like, bi. How would you like it if I said denial isn't a river in Egypt to that?"

"I'm not.'

You narrowed your eyes, and he almost scoffed. "I'm talented."

"And gay people aren't talented?"

"They are, but I'm talented in manly shit. Shit that requires testosterone."

"In what, football?"

"Yeah, you should come to our game."

'Hm?"

"This Saturday. Show up."

"I'll try."

He smiled, genuinely, and you almost felt guilty.

You didn't have the heart to tell him that the only reason you'd be there is because the fucking tabloid rumours hadn't actually been put to rest.

People thought you were dating, and you were, like, 100% sure you'd have to have pictures of you guys together just to get people to stop saying you fucked him and then had him beat up.

You had to fake date someone who didn't even know about it.

Which is why, later that night, you texted his ex, asking both permission and advice.

Because if anyone knows how to manipulate, it's Maddy Perez.

════════════════════ ⋆⋅🥂⋅⋆ ═══════════════════

It did not bode well for Nate's mental health that he saw you there in the stands the day he fucked up.

God wasn't real. The universe was fucking with him. And the worst part? McKay had come to watch, too , last game of the season and shit, and he was sitting next to you.

Maybe that's why he fucked up.

Sitting in your hoodie and stupid huge sunglasses. He could kiss you and hit you at the same time. You just had to show up when he fucked up?

"Hey, man, look, I think you did fine, you just gotta--"

"Oh, fuck off, McKay, seriously."

"Hey, no, he's right. I'm pretty sure what that ginger kid over there did was a foul."

No, it wasn't. Nate was just weak. "Yeah, probably."

"'Least you still won. There's an afterparty, right?", you asked.

Thankfully, though, the universe came through in the form of getting you absolutely shitfaced.

"Remind me why you and Maddy used to be friends again?", he asked, watching you adjust the stereo.

"Used to be? We're still-"

"Not anymore.", he muttered, before his hand grabbed your throat to pull you closer to him as he kissed you for the, what, third time in his life? - more than he ever thought would be possible.

For some reason, though, you didn't immediately hit him over the head with the pizza box or knee him in the crotch.

For some reason (alcohol, but Nate liked to think you could handle your liquor, at least for his own conscience), you kissed back.

Good. Fuck Maddy, Fuck McKay, and, honestly, fuck Nate from a month ago. All losers.

He was just about ready to unbutton your shirt, but something told him to wait. And thank fuck he did, because you pulled away almost instantaneously. "Shit."

"What? What?"

"We're so drunk."

We, you'd said. You, for some reason, had thought he was drinking with you. Alright. That's fine. You can think that.

"Agreed."

This was odd, to say the least. He'd never acted drunk before. He'd acted sober, yeah. But drunk was a whole weird thing.

But then again, you weren't exactly just another hookup. You were a celebrity. A star. He'd attained the unattainable.

Anything for you.

So he counted himself lucky to be able to lie next to you and intertwine his fingers with yours after the fact.

"You still going out with Henry?"

You nodded, watching him press kisses to your knuckles.

"You still going with him for the lead of your movie?"

"Mm? Yeah, I mean, it's short notice and he isn't that bad."

He snorted softly, his lips now at your wrist and moving up your forearm. "You've seen much better actors, admit it."

"Yeah, but I can't really--"

He tsked. "Come on. I'm not sure you should alter the role to fit the actor. It's supposed to be the other way around."

"Yeah, but Nate, I really think it's going to rub people the wrong way.", you muttered.

"Fine, cast him. See if I care."

You fell asleep on his arm and he almost kissed your forehead.

Almost.

════════════════════ ⋆⋅🥂⋅⋆ ═══════════════════

Regret was the last thing he felt.

Who'd regret anything when in between the legs of an angel?

Of course, he couldn't expect the angel herself to understand this.

So, like a good little sycophant, he dodged everything you threw at him in the aftermath.

"You're a FUCKING predator!", you accused. He dodged the book. Okay, mildly, but-

"YOU FUCKING USED ME AS A REBOUND!" He dodged his wallet. No, but Maddy being pissed was a bonus.

"Get the fuck outta my sight, you-"

"Hey, hey, the sex was good and you know it."

"SO?! I WAS DRUNK AND YOU WERE NOT!"

"Okay, I'd say tipsy."

"You think you're getting off on a technicality?!"

He thought reminding you that he spent hours on his knees in front of you and hence, never actually 'got off' would result in him as a chalk outline.

"Look, there's something there."

You did something to him when you scoffed again this time.

Because he was suddenly under your dirt gaze again, but instead of Ray, it was you beating him up and looking down at him, you being the reason his insides were churning, you wanting him so badly, inside and out, that you couldn't help but spill his blood, just to sneak a glimpse.

You wanted him just as bad. And he could finally tell. You were mad because you liked it.

"Between us?", you asked, snorting as if you didn't feel it, too. He almost grinned at your denial. Cute. "We fucked once, and I was drunk!"

"And instead of drunkenly calling me names, you fucked me."

"Oh, my god, get out, you delusional… fuckass!"

"This is McKay's house."

You scoffed, snatching your clothes from his bedside and stepping over all the passed out kids outside his room.

Huh. Huh. He'd just fucked you. The celebrity.

He'd won the fucking bet.

But still. You'd be back.

They always came back.

═══════════════════ ⋆⋅🥂⋅⋆ ═══════════════════

You almost laughed as you slammed your car door. Please. Like he was anything more than a deluded dick your friend had dated.

In fact, is was Maddy who told you to try to get the rumours to rest.

"He doesn't give a shit about anyone, why should you care? At least save your career. Come to the game. I'll get press there, too."

And then the press came as far as they were allowed outside his house party.

To his window.

To your back as he kissed you against it.

To your departure the next morning, face filled with rage so that they could capture it.

And 100%, he'd be named the bad guy because the world loved you.

Of course they did, you've never done anything wrong. Ever.

Except this.

But it was his fault.

You'd warned him.

The Golden isn't his world, and you try to overstep your bounds, this is what happens.

You get burned.

58 notes · View notes