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donttxtathebeach · 1 day ago

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Bleached and Blurred Lines

word count 5.6k

warning: a ittle bit of slow burn i don't know what to call it. Yn stop being stubborn.

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reblogs and comments are much appreciated, i would love to hear your feedback!!

yn.nolan added to their story

The quiet hum of conversation and the earthy aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the hidden café that y/n m and Elle frequented. It was their sanctuary, tucked away from the prying eyes and relentless chaos of Los Angeles. Here, they weren’t actresses or Hollywood icons; they were just two friends, reminiscing about life and sharing secrets over their favorite drinks.

Y/n leaned back in her chair, her denim mini skirt catching the golden afternoon light streaming through the window. Her oversized navy-blue sweater, paired with black knee-high leather boots, gave her an effortlessly cool look. Draped over her shoulders was Drew Starkey’s leather jacket—a detail Elle had not failed to notice but had yet to comment on.

“Honestly,” y/n said, stirring her caramel macchiato with a wooden stirrer, “I’m so grateful for this last year and all the opportunities I’ve had. I mean, it’s been a whirlwind.”

Elle smiled, sipping her lavender latte. “You’ve earned every bit of it. But it’s wild to think about, isn’t it? It feels like not so long ago you were just this annoying younger girl who’d hang around the set because your dad made you his honorary assistant.”

Y/n laughed, rolling her eyes. “Excuse me, assistant? I was a creative consultant in the making.”

Elle smirked, leaning forward. “Sure, that’s what you call stealing the props and hiding in craft services. Admit it, y/n—you were a menace.”

Before y/n could retort, her phone buzzed on the table. She glanced at the screen, her heart skipping when she saw the name: Drew Starkey.

Elle’s knowing grin spread across her face. “Are you going to get that, or just let it ring?”

She sighed, but her lips curved into a small smile she couldn’t suppress. “If I must.” She picked up the phone and swiped to answer, the sight of Drew’s face instantly softening her features.

“Hello, darling,” she greeted, her voice warm and teasing. “Your hair looks so good, honey. How are—Joseph, what did you do to your eyebrows?”

The words came out before she could stop herself, her eyes widening at the sight of Drew’s bleach-blonde mullet and his equally pale, almost invisible eyebrows.

Drew groaned, leaning closer to the camera with mock despair. “Honey, don’t look at me like that. This is only for the next project I’m shooting, I swear. Then I’m going to buzz—wait, stop laughing at me!”

Y/n’s hand flew to her mouth, but it was too late. The giggles burst out of her, and her shoulders shook as she tried to compose herself. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she managed between laughs. “It’s just—what possessed you to do this to yourself?”

Drew pointed a finger at her, trying to look stern but failing miserably. “Don’t act like this. Is that my jacket?” he shot back, smirking when he noticed the familiar leather slung over her.

She paused, then tilted her head with a sly grin. “Maybe.”

Drew shook his head, chuckling. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Darling, I’m sorry,” y/n said, though her tone still carried the remnants of amusement. “It’s just…” She turned the phone around to show Elle, who was clutching her stomach and wiping away tears of laughter. “Elle, look at this!”

“Hey, Drew,” Elle managed between fits of laughter, waving at the screen.

Drew narrowed his eyes playfully. “Hey… Elle,” he replied, his voice trailing off as he adjusted to the audience.

She turned the phone back to herself, biting her lip to stop another laugh from escaping. “Baby, it’s not funny,” Drew whined, though there was a softness in his voice that betrayed his affection.

“Drew, quit calling me pet names in public,” y/n scolded, though her tone was light. “People might get the wrong impression.”

For a brief moment, Drew’s face faltered, the teasing sparkle in his eyes dimming slightly. “No, wait… I’m sorry,” she said quickly, her expression softening. “You look good. I truly love the mullet and the hair; it’s just… honey, your eyebrows. I mean, you rock them, but… I love your eyebrows, and now they just look as if you shaved them off, sweet boy.”

Drew’s expression softened, his gaze lingering on her face through the screen. Elle, watching silently, couldn’t help but notice the way he looked at y/n—as if she were the center of his world. It was a look she’d seen only a few times before, and it always meant one thing.

“It’s okay,” Drew said quietly. “I don’t know how I feel about the eyebrows either. I was actually wondering…” He hesitated, running a hand through his hair. “You know how tonight is W Magazine’s annual Best Performances Party?”

“Yeah,” she replied, nodding. “They told me there’s a something involving the two of us.”

“Well…” Drew began, his voice uncharacteristically nervous. “I’m most likely going to dye my eyebrows back—preferably sooner rather than later—and I was wondering if maybe… maybe you’d want to come over after the party and help me do it?”

She blinked, her heart skipping at the vulnerability in his tone. “What about Odessa? Did you ask her?” she teased, a playful smile tugging at her lips.

Drew groaned, throwing his head back. “You don’t have to, I just… Damn it, y/n , I just want to hang out with you after.”

His words hung in the air, raw and unfiltered. Abbie felt a strange warmth spread through her chest, equal parts excitement and apprehension.

“Okay,” she said finally, her voice soft. “I’ll come over.”

Drew’s face lit up, his grin so genuine it made her chest tighten. “Really?”

“Yeah,” she said quickly, feeling self-conscious under Elle’s watchful gaze. “See you later, yeah?” She ended the call before he could respond, her cheeks flushing as she placed her phone back on the table.

The silence between them was palpable. Elle’s raised eyebrow and amused smirk spoke volumes.

“So…” Elle began, drawing the word out with a teasing lilt.

Y/n shot her a warning look, her face a mix of embarrassment and something else she couldn’t quite name. “Not a word.”

Elle held up her hands in mock surrender but couldn’t resist the grin spreading across her face. “All I’m saying is, the man is head over heels for you.”

Her lips twitched, but she refused to respond. As the conversation shifted back to lighter topics, her mind lingered on Drew’s words and the warmth in his voice.

As y/n arrives at the venue for the magazine party, she can’t help but feel a little overwhelmed. You would think she would be used to the feeling after being in the industry for over 20 years, but she never does. There’s something about the combination of flashing cameras, the hum of chatter, and the weight of expectation that always brings a sense of nervousness, no matter how experienced she is.

As she reaches for her car door, her phone vibrates in her clutch. She quickly pulls it out and smiles as she reads the message.

A soft laugh escapes her lips, and her smile lingers as she types a quick response. Before she can hit send, her dad opens her car door, extending his hand for her to take. She slips her phone back into her clutch and looks up at him. His steady gaze and reassuring nod remind her, as he always does, that she’s okay. No matter how chaotic it might feel in the moment, she’s never alone.

Taking his hand, she steps out of the car, the sound of cameras clicking instantly hitting her ears. Voices call out to her from every direction, shouting her name and instructions—“y/n, over here!” “Turn to the left!” “Show us the dress!”—but her dad stays by her side, grounding her in the sea of chaos.

When they reach the carpet, her dad gently squeezes her hand before they split off, giving her the space to take on the spotlight on her own. She straightens her shoulders, her confidence bolstered by his quiet support, and walks toward her first interview of the evening.

“Y/n , it’s so good to see you again!” Emma Chamberlain says, her signature bubbly energy immediately making Abbie feel at ease.

“Oh my gosh, hi!” She exclaims, pulling Emma in for a hug.

Emma steps back with a wide grin, taking in y/n’s look. “First of all, miss style icon, who styled you tonight? Who are you wearing?”

Y/n lets out a small laugh, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Well, if you know anything about me, I love a good statement dress moment, and this beauty of a dress is a Versace Spring/Summer 1999. It is sheer, of course, which for me is a little out there, but my wonderful stylist, Mallory Se La Valise, picked out this piece for me, and I fell in love. Mostly because of the back.”

She gracefully turns, revealing the low back of the dress, her flawless tan skin and elegantly toned back on full display. The cameras behind Emma flash furiously.

Emma’s jaw drops slightly, and she lets out an impressed, “Oh my gosh.”

Y/n grins and continues, “My shoes are also Versace, of course. We have to give them the recognition they deserve. They’re the Gianni Ribbon Slingback Pumps—something classy, which I love. A good slingback is always a win.”

“Gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous,” Emma says, nodding emphatically.

Y/n smiles and adjusts her clutch, shifting her weight slightly.

“Congrats on last year; it was another big year for you, but tonight, you are being recognized for your role as Anora. How has playing Anora changed your life?” Emma asks, leaning in with genuine curiosity.

Y/n’s expression softens, her voice thoughtful as she answers. “Wow, that is a good question. I mean, being able to step out of the world of horror and immerse myself in something truly different from what I’m used to was truly amazing. In the beginning, I was going back and forth between finishing things for Maxxxine and Anora, but when we were done filming Maxxxine, I could put everything I had into Anora. I learned so much about myself personally while making this film. It’s surreal seeing how everyone has reacted to it, you know?”

She pauses for a moment, gathering her thoughts. “It was a different experience because when I started acting, I was 4. My first role was a childhood favorite—I was young Charlotte in The Princess and the Frog. Then I did some teeny bopper movies, and of course, my dad was like, ‘I want to give you fun little parts in my movies,’ when I was, what, 13. Then, when I turned 18, I was thrown into the world of horror in 2017. That was my first time in an A24 film.”

Emma’s eyes light up. “Yeah, I saw that one, The Blackcoat’s Daughter!”

She laughs, a little embarrassed. “Oh my gosh, that’s insane. But honestly, I’m not going to lie to you—it’s really hard for me to go back and watch those films because of how much I put into them. And quite frankly, I hate horror movies. It takes a while to get through them. But please, keep casting me for them! I love it, but some of my reactions are purely my genuine reactions, especially for the X trilogy. I told Ti once, ‘I think I peed a little.’”

Both Emma and y/n laugh, the tension from the flashing cameras easing into a more relaxed conversation.

“Anora was such a beautiful character. How you portrayed her was outstanding,” Emma says, her tone sincere. “You showed your depth and ability as an actor, even though you have one of the best screams ever.”

Y/n smiles warmly, brushing a strand of hair off her face. “Thank you, Emma. That really means a lot.”

As she starts to answer, she feels a presence behind her who placed their hand on her lower. Knowing it was Drew, she melted into him, purely comfortable with his presence. He just stands with his hand running up and down her back. “Well, hello there, Drew,” Emma laughs. “Hello, Emma. I must say I love your style and just your vibe. Y/n makes me watch your vlogs whenever we hang out,” he laughs. “I’m flattered. So there has been a lot of buzz about you and drew since your actors on actors Video tell me more about that” Emma says. Before she could respond, Drew smirked and beat her to it. “I think I’ll let you answer this one, baby,” he said softly, his Southern drawl making the nickname sound even more intimate.

Y/n froze for a split second before letting out a small laugh, clearly used to his teasing by now. She turned slightly, throwing him a side-eye that was equal parts exasperation and amusement. “For starters, we are just friends, everyone. But—” she paused, shooting Drew another glance— “as you can see, he likes to call me ‘baby.’”

Emma grinned, sensing the undeniable chemistry between them, and leaned closer. “Alright, fair enough. But it doesn’t feel like just friends. Come on, spill.”

Y/n’s expression softened as she took a deep breath, clearly wanting to choose her words carefully. “I get why people might think that. Drew and I met about two months ago when we filmed the Actors on Actors video in early November. And, honestly, I didn’t expect us to hit it off the way we did. But Drew is just… someone who makes you feel safe.”

Her voice dropped slightly, her tone sincere as she continued. “In this industry, it’s so easy to feel like you always have to have your guard up. You’re constantly navigating expectations—whether it’s from the public, from your peers, or even from yourself. And that can be exhausting. But with Drew, it’s different. He’s the kind of person who makes you feel like you can let all of that go. Like it’s okay to just… be. No pretense, no performance, just you.”

Drew’s expression softened as he listened, the teasing smirk replaced by something quieter and more genuine. Emma, clearly captivated, nodded, urging her to go on.

“And it’s not just about me feeling comfortable,” she added. “I feel like it’s so important to have someone who can interlink with such a different part of your life and make it all feel seamless. It’s not just about me feeling comfortable—it’s about them feeling comfortable, too. And Drew fits so easily into my world. He’s hung out with me, Elle, and Dakota a few times, and honestly? It’s like he’s been part of the group forever. They love him, and he just… meshes so well with everyone.”

Emma raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Even Dakota? I mean, she’s kind of famously protective, ?”

Y/n laughed softly. “Oh, absolutely. Dakota doesn’t let just anyone in, but she really likes Drew. She said he has this way of making everyone feel at ease, which, honestly, is so true. He’s just… one of those people who makes any room feel a little warmer, you know?”

Emma smiled knowingly. “That’s a pretty big compliment. But it sounds like it goes both ways. What about his world? Have you met his friends and castmates?”

She nodded enthusiastically. “Yes! I’ve met a few of his castmates—Odessa and Mads especially—and they’re incredible. They’re so inviting, and they really make everyone feel like family. It’s easy to see why Drew is the way he is when you meet the people he surrounds himself with. They’re just such genuine, kind people.”

Drew, who had been silent so far, finally chimed in with a grin. “See? I’ve got a good team around me. But don’t let her fool you—she’s the one who makes everyone feel like they’ve known her forever.”

Y/n rolled her eyes, though a small blush crept up her cheeks. “He’s impossible,” she muttered, shaking her head with a laugh.

Emma watched the interaction, her curiosity clearly piqued. “Okay, last question—because I think I know the answer, but I have to ask. You’re just friends now, but do you think there could be something more down the line?”

Y/n hesitated, glancing at Drew for a moment before turning back to Emma with a soft smile. “For now, we’re just exploring being friends. It’s important to build that foundation first, you know? But…” She trailed off, her smile widening slightly as she shrugged. “We’ll see what the future holds.”

Drew’s hand, still resting lightly on her back, gave the smallest, almost imperceptible squeeze. “Well said, baby,” he murmured, just loud enough for her—and maybe Emma—to hear.

Emma grinned, clearly satisfied. “Alright, I’ll leave it at that. But I have to say, you two are making a lot of people very curious—and maybe a little envious.”

The interview wrapped with a cheerful goodbye from Emma Chamberlain, but before y/n could fully turn away, Drew’s hand gently wrapped around hers, pulling her closer. He enveloped her in a warm, protective hug, one that seemed to block out the chaos of cameras and onlookers surrounding them.

“You’re purely the most beautiful person I’ve met in my whole life,” Drew whispered against her ear, his voice soft but laced with sincerity. His hands remained steady on her waist as he subtly turned her to face him, his eyes scanning her face with an intensity that made her heart race. He spun her slightly to get a better look at her outfit, his lips quirking into a smile.

Y/n flushed, her lips parting as if to respond, but instead, she deflected, her gaze darting to the ever-present sea of flashing cameras. “I need a drink,” she muttered, glancing around in an attempt to ground herself.

Drew didn’t let go of her hand. “Okay, honey, let’s get you some liquid courage,” he said, his tone light but still teasing, guiding her through the crowd with a firm yet gentle hold on her.

They reached the bar, Drew stepping forward confidently. “Hi, can I get a whiskey and an espresso martini, please?” he asked the bartender, his other arm instinctively wrapping around her waist as though it were second nature.

She shifted slightly under his hold, lowering her voice to a whisper. “Drew… people are looking. They’re going to think that…”

Drew immediately stiffened, his arm retreating from her waist as though burned. He looked away, an apologetic expression washing over his face. “Sorry, I… It won’t happen again,” he murmured, his voice quieter now as he grabbed their drinks.

Before she could say anything, Drew was walking away, his strides purposeful but hurried. She quickly followed, her heels clicking against the polished floor. “Drew, slow down,” she called softly, trying to match his pace.

Her words slowed him just enough, but before she could reach him, a murmur of excitement rippled through the room. The crowd shifted, and the pair found themselves being ushered toward the center of the party where a grand display was being revealed.

Y/n stopped in her tracks, her breath catching in her throat as she took in the sight before her. There, plastered on a towering wall, were two massive W Magazine cover photos: one of her, a striking full color shot that captured her raw intensity, and the other of Drew, equally commanding in his presence. Together, the covers exuded a magnetic energy that drew everyone’s attention.

“Oh my gosh,” y/n whispered, her drink forgotten as tears welled in her eyes. Gratitude and disbelief filled her chest, rendering her speechless.

Drew appeared beside her, his earlier tension melting as he looked at her reaction. “Y/n, baby you’re stunning ,” he murmured, his voice filled with pride.

Before she could respond, photographers began ushering them toward a specially designed set featuring their cover photos. Drew placed a hand on her lower back once more, guiding her gently as they posed together for pictures.

The set was stunning, with their covers blown up as the backdrop, framed by soft lighting and artfully arranged props. Y/n and Drew laughed as they struck playful poses, their chemistry undeniable. At one point, Drew wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close, while y/n leaned into him with ease, her smile radiant.

When the photos were done, Drew glanced down at her, a softness in his eyes. “Come on,” he said quietly, leading her away from the crowd and toward the secluded area they had originally intended to retreat to.

Finally alone, the hum of the party faded into the background. Drew turned to face her, his expression serious yet vulnerable. “I have something I need to say,” he began, his voice steady but laced with a quiet urgency. “And I just… I just need you to listen to me, alright?”

She nodded, her heart pounding as she took a seat on one of the plush chairs, Drew sitting across from her.

He ran a hand through his hair, his nerves evident as he spoke.

He ran a hand through his hair, his nerves evident as he spoke. “Y/n, I’ve been trying to figure out the right way to say this, but the truth is… I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you before. You make me feel like I can just be myself—like I don’t have to try so hard or pretend to be anything other than who I am. And that’s… rare.”

She sat quietly, her eyes locked on his as she processed his words.

“You’ve brought so much light into my life in such a short time,” Drew continued, his voice growing softer. “And it’s not just about how incredible you are as an actress or how everyone sees you as this larger-than-life person. It’s about how you make me feel when it’s just us—how easy it is to talk to you, to laugh with you, to be with you.”

“Drew…” y/n started, but he shook his head, cutting her off gently.

“Let me finish,” he said. “I don’t know what this is between us, but I know it’s something. And I don’t want to ignore it or pretend it’s not there.”Drew took a deep breath, his eyes locked onto her, a storm of emotions flickering behind his usually composed gaze. He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees as he tried to steady his voice.

“you don’t understand what you’ve done to me,” he began, his voice low and vulnerable. “You walked into my life like a tornado, and suddenly, nothing feels the same. I’ve been on sets with some of the most talented, kind, and amazing people, but you… you’re different. You’re real in a way I didn’t even know I needed.”

Y/n’s eyes softened as she listened, her chest tightening with every word he said.

“You make me feel safe,” Drew continued, his voice almost breaking. “Do you know how rare that is? To find someone you can be completely yourself around, without all the walls, without the pretense? With you, it’s like I don’t have to second-guess every word or every move. I just get to be me. And when I’m with you, it’s not just easy—it feels right.”

He hesitated, running a hand through his hair as if trying to piece together his thoughts. “I’ve never had that before, not like this. And when I’m around you, it’s like the world slows down. Everything else fades away, and it’s just… you.”

She swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest as she watched him struggle to find the words to express himself.

“And it’s not just you,” Drew said, his voice softening. “It’s how you’ve brought me into your world—how you made me feel welcome with Elle and Dakota. Most people don’t think twice about those things, but I’ve noticed. I see how much you care about the people in your life, and it’s one of the most beautiful things about you. You don’t just let people in; you make them feel like they belong. And that’s what you’ve done for me.”

Y/n blinked, tears welling in her eyes as she listened.

“I’ve been thinking about this for weeks,” Drew admitted, his voice trembling slightly. “Every time we’ve hung out, every laugh we’ve shared, every late-night text—I replay it all in my head, wondering if I’m reading too much into it or if you feel it too. But tonight, seeing you on that carpet, watching how effortlessly you light up every room you walk into… I couldn’t keep it in anymore.”

He paused, his eyes searching hers for any sign of how she was feeling.

“I don’t know what this is, y/n ,” Drew said, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I know I don’t want to lose it. I don’t want to lose you.”

Y/n sat frozen, her emotions swirling as she tried to process everything he had just said. Drew’s hands reached for hers, his touch grounding her in the moment.

“Y/n , I’ve been scared to say this because I didn’t want to ruin what we have,” he confessed, his voice cracking slightly. “But the truth is… I care about you more than I should. And if all we are is friends, then I’ll take that. I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give me. But I need you to know, you’re not just another person in my life. You’re the person.”

Before Drew could say another word, she leaned forward, cupping his face in her hands and pressing her lips to his. The kiss was soft at first, a tentative exploration of emotions that had been building for weeks. But as Drew’s arms wrapped around her, pulling her closer, it deepened, becoming a wordless confession of everything they couldn’t say.

When they finally pulled apart, Drew rested his forehead against hers, his breathing uneven. “I wasn’t expecting that,” he said with a soft laugh, his hands still firmly on her waist as if afraid to let go.

“Neither was I,” she admitted, her voice just as shaky.

For a moment, they simply stared at each other, the weight of everything unspoken lingering between them.

He leaned in, capturing her lips again in a kiss that spoke volumes about everything they both felt but couldn’t quite put into words. And for the first time in a long time, y/n felt like she didn’t have to have her guard up. She was safe. She was seen. And with Drew, she was exactly where she was meant to be.

For a moment, there was silence. Then, without a word, she leaned forward once more , her hands cupping his face as she kissed him. Drew froze for a split second, his surprise evident, but then he melted into her touch, his arms wrapping around her as he pulled her closer.

He shifted her into his lap, his hands resting securely on her waist as if he couldn’t bear to let her go.

“Are you still coming over to help me dye my eyebrows back?” Drew whispered, a teasing smile playing on his lips.

Y/n laughed softly, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “Yeah, honey, I’ll still come over.”

He grinned, his hold on her tightening ever so slightly.

“Maybe we can talk more when I get there, yeah?” she added, leaning in to kiss him again, this time slower, more deliberate.

“Yeah,” Drew murmured against her lips, his voice filled with a quiet determination. “We’ll talk.”

yn.nolan added to their story

Y/n stepped out of her car, the chilly night air wrapping around her as she grabbed her bag of cocktail ingredients and made her way to Drew’s apartment door. She couldn’t help but feel a flicker of hope as she adjusted her oversized white hoodie—one of Drew’s that she had conveniently “forgotten” to return. Paired with her favorite Skims set and her cozy Uggs, she felt comfortable, though a small part of her couldn’t ignore the butterflies in her stomach.

When Drew opened the door, shirtless and with his signature smirk, the butterflies turned into a full-blown symphony. His golden skin was still slightly damp from a recent shower, his bleach-blonde hair slightly tousled. He leaned against the doorframe, his whiskey-colored eyes lighting up as they landed on her.

“Hi,” she said softly, holding up the bag in her hand. “I brought stuff to make cocktails because… I wanted to,” she finished, her cheeks tinged with a faint blush.

Drew’s lips curved into a grin, his gaze softening. “Y/n, honey , get inside,” he said, grabbing her with one swift motion and leaning in to kiss her. As they separated from each other she walked further into his apartment.

Her eyes scanned his apartment, which was warm and inviting despite its minimalistic decor. She began unpacking her cocktail ingredients on the kitchen counter, her mind clearly buzzing with ideas. Drew leaned against the wall, crossing his arms as he watched her, amused by how easily she made herself at home.

“So, I brought my 818 tequila and a bunch of other things to make my famous drinks,” she began, her voice carrying an edge of nervous energy. “But now I’m thinking I’m just going to have straight tequila,” she added with a small laugh, trying to calm herself.

“Okay, baby,” Drew said simply, the nickname rolling off his tongue with ease.

Her lips parted slightly, but she quickly closed them and grabbed a shot glass. Without missing a beat, she poured herself a shot, nodded to herself, and downed it. She coughed slightly but smiled through it.

“So,” she said, her voice slightly hoarse, “where’s the bleach… umm… what’s the word?” She gestured vaguely, her mind scrambling for the term.

“The hair dye, baby. It’s in the bathroom,” Drew said with a chuckle, pouring himself a glass of whiskey. “That’s why I’m opting to not wear a shirt.”

Her eyes flitted over him briefly before she looked away, busying herself by making a Moscow mule. Once they both had their drinks in hand, they walked to the bathroom.

The bathroom was cozy but well-lit, with a mirror that reflected the two of them as they worked together. Drew sat on the closed toilet lid, his hair already combed back, and y/n perched herself in his lap, as naturally as if she had been doing this for years. His hands found their way around her waist, resting there as though that was where they belonged.

She dipped the brush into the hair dye carefully, her fingers steady as she leaned in closer to his face. “Okay, keep still,” she murmured, her voice soft and focused.

“Yes, ma’am,” Drew teased, his whiskey-tinged breath ghosting over her skin.

As y/n worked, she concentrated on perfecting every detail, her brow furrowed in concentration. Drew, however, seemed to have other priorities. His lips brushed her collarbone in featherlight kisses, his affection manifesting in every tender press of his mouth against her skin. He moved to her neck, trailing slow, deliberate kisses, causing her breath to hitch momentarily.

“Drew,” she whispered, trying to sound scolding but failing miserably.

“Yes, baby?” he replied, a smirk tugging at his lips as his kisses lingered.

“You’re distracting me,” she said, though her lips curved into a smile.

“Sorry,” he said, though his tone suggested he wasn’t sorry at all.

“ drew oh my gosh stop , how mad would you be if i posted this on my story” she asked him turning her phone to show him the picture she had just taken of him. “ do whatever you want honey” he replied staring back at her with those loving blue eyes.

yn.nolan added to their story

After what felt like hours—though it had only been 45 minutes—y/n finally sat back to admire her work. “I’m done. Your eyebrows are back to normal now,” she declared, hopping off his lap and stretching.

Drew glanced in the mirror, tilting his head to examine her handiwork. “You’re a miracle worker,” he said, standing up and pouring the rest of his whiskey down the sink.

“Let’s go talk,” she said, already making her way out of the bathroom and toward the couch in his living room.

Y/n curled up on one side of the couch, tucking her legs under her. Drew sat next to her, close but not crowding her, his attention focused solely on her.

“So, umm, I guess now I should tell you what I’m feeling since you did,” she began, her voice tinged with nervousness. She took a deep breath, her fingers absentmindedly toying with the hem of her hoodie.

“I really like you too, Drew,” she said, her words barely above a whisper. “You make me feel… safe. Like I don’t have to have my guard up. Like I can just… be myself.” She paused, her eyes meeting his. “And that’s rare for me. I’ve always felt like I had to keep a part of myself hidden, even from people I’m close to. But with you, it’s different. It’s easy.”

Drew’s hand found hers, his fingers intertwining with hers as he listened intently.

“But if we do this,” she continued, her voice shaking slightly, “can we go slow? I just… I want to make sure we’re doing this right.”

“Yeah,” Drew said softly, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “We can go slow. Whatever you need.”

Her lips curved into a small, grateful smile. Drew reached for the remote, turning on a movie to fill the comfortable silence. As the opening credits rolled, she shifted closer to him, her head resting against his chest. Before long, her breathing evened out, and she fell asleep, leaving Drew alone with his thoughts.

He glanced down at her peaceful face, his arm wrapped protectively around her. His mind replayed their conversation, her words ringing in his ears.

For now, he was content to take things slow, savoring every moment with the girl who had already captured his heart without even trying.

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isacksteban · 2 days ago

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Eventually — Lawhan Mixed Media AU

Twitch Streamer AU — 2.4k words — @ellearts — masterlist

Liam sat on the porch, gripping his phone so tightly his knuckles turned white. His mind was racing, but deep down, he already knew what he was going to do.

He couldn’t stay.

There was no way to fix this. No way to undo the damage he’d already done by being careless. The pictures were gone, but people had seen. Hannah had seen. If she was calling him like this, it meant it was bad.

And if she told his parents—

Liam exhaled sharply, pushing the thought away before it could settle.

He stood abruptly, already pulling up his flight app, fingers moving automatically as he searched for the next available flight to New Zealand. There was one in the morning. He booked it without thinking. Without hesitating.

He had to get out of here. He had to fix this.

His foot was already halfway over the threshold when a thought finally hit him—

Jack.

But he shoved it aside almost instantly.

Jack would be fine.

Jack had to be fine, because Liam couldn’t afford to think about him right now. Couldn’t afford to linger in that bedroom, in that bed where Jack had held onto him like he mattered, like Liam wasn’t just some inevitable disappointment waiting to happen.

If he thought about Jack — about his stupid soft eyes, about the way he’d whispered I don’t want you to leave like it meant something — he might break.

And Liam couldn’t afford to break.

Not now.

Not ever.

So he squared his shoulders, clenched his jaw, and stepped back inside.

He wasn’t going to say goodbye.

Liam moved through Jack’s house quickly, shoving his things into his bag with sharp, mechanical movements. His chest was tight, his breathing uneven, but he kept his hands steady. He wasn’t thinking. He couldn’t think.

He had a flight in a few hours. He just needed to be gone.

Behind him, the door creaked open.

“…Liam?” Jack’s voice was groggy, thick with sleep. Liam froze, fingers tightening around the strap of his bag. Jack took a few slow steps inside. “What… what are you doing?” His voice was quiet, uncertain. Then, after a beat, “Are you leaving?”

Liam clenched his jaw. “Yeah.”

Silence.

Then, softer, more fragile—“Why?”

Liam exhaled sharply, adjusting his bag on his shoulder like it would ground him. “It’s just— complicated. I have to go.”

Jack stared at him, his eyes searching, pleading for an answer that Liam couldn’t give him. “You’re supposed to have two more days.”

“Plans changed,” Liam muttered, forcing himself to sound unaffected.

Jack let out a breathless laugh, but there was no humor in it. “Right. ‘Plans changed.’ Not an actual explanation, just a convenient excuse.”

Liam sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Jack, please—”

“Oh, please what?” Jack snapped suddenly, stepping closer. His voice was raw, frustrated. “Please understand why you’re sneaking out of my house in the middle of the night like this wasn’t anything to you? Please just let you go without asking why the hell you’re acting like I mean nothing to you?”

Liam’s stomach twisted. “Jack—”

“No,” Jack cut him off, shaking his head. “You’re leaving because you don’t want this. Because you don’t love me. Because you don’t wanna be with me. That’s it, isn’t it?”

Liam inhaled sharply, his whole body tensing. His pulse was loud in his ears, his skin prickling hot. He felt trapped. Cornered.

Jack kept going, his voice cracking now. “Just fucking say it, Liam. Say you don’t want this. Say you don’t want me.”

Liam snapped. “I’m not queer like you, Jack!”

The words were out before he could stop them, and the second they landed, the room went silent.

Jack’s face went blank. His mouth parted slightly, like he’d just been slapped, but he didn’t say anything.

Liam felt his own breath hitch. His hands curled into fists at his sides.

The silence stretched, thick and awful.

Jack swallowed hard. When he finally spoke, his voice was eerily quiet. “Right.”

Liam’s chest was heaving. He hadn’t meant it like that. He hadn’t— Jack’s expression was unreadable. His lips pressed into a thin line. Then, after what felt like an eternity, he took a slow step back, nodding to himself. “I get it.”

Liam opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

Jack’s jaw tightened, his throat bobbing. “Then go.”

Liam hesitated. Just for a second.

Then he turned, walked to the door, and left.

Jack didn’t stop him.

Liam sat stiffly in the back of the cab, his phone burning in his hands. His chest still felt tight, his breathing uneven, but he forced himself to focus on the screen. On her.

Hannah:

Flight’s booked.

You leave in five hours, i wasn't sure how far away he lives from an airport.

Check your email for the details.

Liam exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. He knew she’d do it. She always did.

Another message popped up.

Hannah:

I won’t say anything, Liam.

But you know what that means.

His stomach twisted. He didn’t respond.

Three dots appeared, and then—

Hannah:

We get married at the end of the month.

No more excuses.

No more running.

Liam clenched his jaw, staring at the words like he could will them away.

Married.

He’d always known this was coming. Always known this was the endgame, the thing his parents expected, the thing Hannah had resigned herself to just as much as he had.

He knew what would happen if he fought it. If he stayed. If he let himself want.

But now, after eight days with Jack, after last night, after what he’d said—

Liam’s hands curled into fists.

His phone buzzed again.

Hannah:

Say yes, Liam.

His throat felt tight. His body felt wrong.

But he knew what he had to do.

Liam:

Yeah.

Tell my mom to call her people.

We'll get married at the end of this month.

He locked his phone, staring blankly out the window as the city lights blurred past.

Jack’s voice still echoed in his head. “You don’t love me. You don’t wanna be with me.”

Liam had walked away. He had chosen this.

So why did it feel like he’d just lost everything?

The second Liam stepped off the plane, the weight of reality hit him like a brick wall.

The bright lights of the airport, the hum of conversation, the cold, stale air—it all felt suffocating. He adjusted the strap of his bag over his shoulder, forcing his shoulders back, slipping into the version of himself that belonged here. The one that didn’t think about Jack.

The one that didn’t want him.

Then he saw them.

Hannah stood near the arrivals gate, her parents at her side, and just a few steps away—his own family. His mother beaming, his father watching with quiet approval. Everything they had wanted. Everything they had expected.

Hannah’s eyes met his, and without missing a beat, she smiled—bright and effortless, like this wasn’t all a lie.

Liam exhaled and walked toward her.

As soon as he was close enough, Hannah reached for his hands, intertwining their fingers like it was second nature. Like she’d done this a thousand times before.

And Liam? He let her.

He squeezed her fingers just enough to make it look real.

Hannah leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, lingering just long enough for their families to see — a mark from her lipstick being left behind. “Welcome home, baby,” she murmured, her voice sweet, perfect.

Liam barely stopped himself from flinching. “Missed you,” he said instead, voice steady, smooth.

Her nails dug ever so slightly into his skin, a silent reminder. This is what you chose.

Hannah turned to his parents, her smile never faltering. “He looks exhausted, poor thing,” she said lightly, squeezing his arm. “We’ll get him home, let him rest.”

His mother beamed. “He’s lucky to have you, dear.”

Hannah laughed softly, tilting her head to rest against his shoulder for just a moment before pulling back. “I’m the lucky one.”

Liam forced himself to smile, to let the words sit even though they made his stomach twist.

They made their way through the airport together, their hands still linked, their families walking beside them. The perfect couple. The perfect lie.

Liam didn’t check his phone.

Didn’t let himself wonder if Jack had texted.

Didn’t let himself think about soft hands on his skin, whispered words in the dark, I don’t want you to leave.

He just smiled.

Pretended.

And let himself be owned.

The car ride home was quiet.

Liam sat in the backseat beside Hannah, his body heavy with exhaustion—not just from the flight, but from everything. The moment they were settled, Hannah tugged gently at his arm, guiding him down until his head rested in her lap. He let her.

She didn’t say anything at first, just started threading her fingers through his hair, slow and gentle. The way she always had, ever since they were kids.

It wasn’t fake. Not entirely.

Because Hannah did care about him. Maybe not in the way their parents wanted, maybe not in the way he wished he could return, but she did.

Liam exhaled, staring up at the ceiling of the car. The soft hum of conversation drifted from the front—his mother and Hannah’s parents talking about wedding plans, about venues, about dates. It was set. The end of the month.

Liam didn’t react.

Didn’t argue.

Didn’t fight it.

Hannah’s fingers trailed lightly across his scalp. “You okay?” she murmured, so quiet that no one else could hear.

Liam swallowed, his throat tight. He didn’t answer.

She sighed softly, her nails scratching lightly against his hairline. “I know,” she whispered. “I know, Liam.”

And somehow, that was worse than if she’d been angry.

Liam closed his eyes.

He let her play with his hair, let her soothe him like she always had. And for now, he pretended it was enough.

hannahstjohn

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kkofficial 💛💙 liked by hannahstjohn

user is this insane to anyone else??

user yeah is fucking crazy

user liam leaves australia 2 days early and is posted up with some CHICK?? HELLO??

user girl do u not know what he posted..?

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The moment they got to Hannah’s house, Liam went straight to their bedroom, shutting the door behind him like it would somehow keep the outside world out — Hannah followed close behind. He collapsed onto the bed, face buried in his hands, his chest tight with something he didn’t want to name.

He still hadn’t turned on his phone.

He knew what would be waiting for him and he wasn’t ready.

Instead, he lay there, staring at the ceiling, willing himself to shut it all out.

Then, a soft chime.

Liam frowned, slowly sitting up. The sound hadn’t come from his phone — it was still powered off on the nightstand.

It had come from Hannah’s.

He looked over to see her sitting on the edge of the bed, scrolling, her expression unreadable.

Liam exhaled sharply. “What did you do?”

Hannah didn’t look up as she tapped at her screen one last time. Then she turned it toward him, showing him exactly what she’d done.

An Instagram post.

A picture of Liam’s head resting in her lap from the car ride home, his face turned away but still unmistakably him.

Liam’s stomach twisted.

Before he could even process it, Hannah nudged his arm. “Comment something.”

Liam blinked at her. “What?”

She raised an eyebrow. “People are already going crazy. Just comment something simple. Keep things normal.”

Liam clenched his jaw. He knew what she was asking.

He turned his phone back on, watched as the screen flooded with notifications. Some of them were hers — people liking and commenting on her post. Some of them were from Jack.

He ignored Jack’s.

Instead, he scrolled to Hannah’s post, forced his fingers to move, and typed:

💛💙

Yellow for her. Blue for him.

A stupid, meaningless thing they had done since they were kids. Something their families loved. Something that made it look like everything was fine.

Hannah’s phone buzzed. She looked down, saw his comment, and nodded approvingly. “Good.”

Liam set his phone down, ignoring the ache curling in his chest.

Then it buzzed again.

Not from Instagram.

From Jack.

Jack:

Liam what the fuck was that

Are you seriously just leaving without saying anything?

Answer me.

Liam.

You really fucking left??

Wow.

You’re a fucking coward.

Why did I even think you felt the same.

Hope she was worth it.

Liam inhaled sharply, his stomach twisting painfully.

He clenched his jaw, forcing his breathing to stay even.

Then, without reading them again, he turned off his phone.

Liam let it fall onto the nightstand, his hands still curled into fists. His chest felt tight, like something was pressing down on him, something too heavy to hold, something clawing at his ribs from the inside.

He had done the right thing. He had fixed it.

So why did it feel like he was breaking?

His shoulders started to shake before he could stop them. He gritted his teeth, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes, forcing himself to keep it together.

But then Hannah shifted beside him, pulling him gently toward her, wrapping her arms around him like it was the most natural thing in the world. It was the most natural thing in the world.

That was all it took.

Liam broke.

A shaky breath, then another. His chest hitched, his body caving in on itself as he buried his face in Hannah’s shoulder. She didn’t say anything. Didn’t ask. Didn’t press for words he didn’t have.

She just held him.

Her fingers stroked through his hair, slow and steady. “It’s okay,” she murmured, soft and real. “I’ve got you.”

Liam clenched his jaw, his breathing uneven. He didn’t let people see him like this. He wasn’t allowed to be like this.

But Hannah had always been the exception.

She didn’t try to fix it. Didn’t tell him it would be okay, didn’t lie to him. She just let him exist.

Eventually, the exhaustion pulled at him, his body sinking heavier against hers. He let his eyes slip shut, his breathing finally evening out, his grip on her hoodie loosening.

Hannah shifted slightly, adjusting so they were both more comfortable, still curled together on top of the blankets.

“Get some sleep,” she whispered.

Liam barely registered it before everything faded to black.

For the first time in hours, his mind quieted.

And in the silence, he let himself forget — just for a little while — what he had left behind.

#sorry..!#f1 #formula 1 #ll30 #liam lawson #jack doohan #jd7 #hannah st john #rpf #fanfic #fic #smau #socmed au #mixed media #social media #ao3 #lawhan #uh #yeah

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