#actor fanfic

[commander-writergirl]

Cuddles and Good Food

Synopsis: You get your period and Pedro comes home from all the touring. 

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Jewish!fem Reader (vague description. I mention her having curly hair)

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: sexual innuendos, cursing, talk of menstruation

Word Count: 1,717

Note: This is super self indulgent cause I just want to cuddle this dork. Also this wasn’t beta’d and please let me know if any of the Spanish is incorrect. 

------------------

I sighed and curled up on the bed as the next episode of Stargate started up. I didn’t have the energy to watch anything else and to be honest after getting the “I’m coming home” text from Pedro, I didn’t really want to put anything on that required my full attention.  

I looked at my phone as it buzzed again. I picked up and read the text from my friend.  

F/N: Did you watch the new episode of TLOU yet?

I sighed and turned my phone upside down. I had been working on keeping up with the series but had fallen behind when I met up with Pedro during his London premier red carpet.  

And of course, the universe decided to laugh at me and bestow my period on me the moment I got home.  

I groaned and curled up more as a wave of pain went through my back. PCOS can be a real bitch.

“Baby? I’m home.” When I hear Pedro yell, I realize I should have just put the Mandalorian on just to fall asleep to the sound of his voice. Or the video of interviews I had saved on YouTube.

“Bedroom.” I yelled out. I sat up and ran my fingers through my hair hoping to tame some of the curls.  

When he stepped into the doorway, I couldn’t help holding my arms out and making grabby hands towards him. It may have only been a few days since we saw each other last but I always got needy while on my period. He chuckled softly and walked over climbing into the bed next to me before pulling me into his lap.  

“What’s wrong with my sweet girl?” he asked as I nuzzled into his chest.

“My period started yesterday.” I mumbled as I felt strands of my hair get caught in the stubble of his beard.  

He hummed and gently messaged my lower back. I whimpered before sighing as the pain passed. He kissed my temple and nuzzled his nose against my cheek making me giggle. “What can I do to make you feel better?”

I turned my face to nuzzle my nose against his. “You’re already doing it,” I wrapped my arms around his neck.  

He held me close and fell back making me giggle.  

“I’ve missed that giggle.” He mused nuzzling his nose into my hair. “I’ve also missed this bed.”  

“Well, that’s what happens when you have two shows premier less than a month apart and have an SNL guest appearance and decide to meet up with all your friends while traveling.” I looked up at him.  

He sighed, “The price of fame.”  

“I saw your Graham Norton interview; I know you are enjoying the attention.” I smirked at him.  

He pouted, “Okay, maybe a little.” Pedro rolled us so he was hovering over me, caging my body between his legs. “Doesn’t mean I don’t miss you or our bed.” He moved my hair back.

“I did enjoy watching you break character... twice while watching SNL.” I grinned. “Oscar even called me the next day to ask about my thoughts.”  

Pedro dropped his head on my shoulder. “Of course, he did.”  

I cleared my throat and let my tongue settle on the bottom of my mouth. “Ya know,” he peeked at me as I mimicked the LA voice. “That LA voice, was the best.” I moved my jaw. “God how did you do that for that long.” I said in my normal voice.

He laughed and kissed my cheek. “Eleven months on the set of The Last of Us gave me great practice.”  

I hummed and pushed his hair back. “Yes, and I now get to have nightmares because my friends convinced me to start watching it.”

He hummed, “My poor bebe.” He kissed the tip of my nose.

I wrinkled it up and squirmed a little. “At least you make good eye candy.”

He smirked, “Is that so?”  

I hummed, nodding my head. “Tumblr is all about Joel right now.”  

“Anything good?” He asked settling next to me and gently messaging my stomach.

I bit my tongue to keep from moaning when he pressed on a specific spot. “Um a lot of smut.” He laughed at that and shook his head. “One account had polls of your characters of ‘who does it better’ and many are Joel vs. Frankie.” I whimpered and squirmed as he pressed down on another sensitive spot.

“Anything of interest to you?” he asked, letting his finger lazily trace the band of my panties.  

I knew his hand wouldn’t go further; he was simply trying to distract me. We both learned quick that sex on my period was a very bad idea. In any form.  

I hummed, “I’ve actually been reading a mix of your other characters. Joel just gives my brain too much horror.” I thought, “Some people have even written about your SNL characters which is quite interesting to read.”  

He chuckled. “Of course, why am I not surprised.” He kissed my temple before shifting me to my side with him tucked behind me. “I’m gonna guess you didn’t sleep well last night.”

“José,” I looked up at him. “Are you giving me permission to take a nap while you spoon me?”

He rolled his eyes. “Only person outside my family that even uses that name on me anymore.”  

“You didn’t answer my question.”  

He reached over me and grabbed the remote. “I’m going to watch my dumb shows while you nap against me, yes.”  

I hummed and wiggled into him. He grunted making me smirk before I settled against my pillow, feeling comfortable for the first time in the last 24 hours.

----------

I slowly woke to the smell of beef cooking. I sat up and stretched ignoring the cramping in my lower back. I climbed out of bed and walked towards the kitchen.

The sight I found was one I didn’t see often. I could hear Spanish music coming from the stereo and Pedro moving to the beat while cooking. He didn’t always cook but when he did it usually stemmed from a form of homesickness, he couldn’t place.  

I walked over and wrapped my arms around his waist. “What’s cookin’ good lookin’?”  

He chuckled and looked at me over his shoulder. The upside to being only a few inches shorter than he was. “Cazuela, though taking your advice I cooked the beef before adding it to the stew.”  

“That US versus Chile snacks got to you huh?” I’d watched the interview and having been dating Pedro for a few years now, I have tried each item that was set before him.

He shrugged and went back to cutting up the corn on the cob to make it more manageable. “You just make all these great meals from your childhood.”

I moved to lean on the counter next to him. “Pedro, I’m Jewish. My people learned to carry our recipes with us wherever we ended up.” I nudged his hip with my own. “If you want, I could message Javiera and see if she has any Balmaceda family recipes.”  

He gave me a soft smile. “I would actually like that.”  

I stood on my tip toes and kissed his cheek. “You do so much for me. From not eating bread around me during Passover to making sure I keep to my fast on Yom Kippur. The least I can do is learn some family recipes to make you feel as happy as you make me feel.” I stroked my thumb against the V tattoo on his wrist.  

He kissed my head before scrapping the corn into the pot next to him. He set the knife and cutting board down before grabbing my hand and pulling me to him and swaying us. “It may just be my age catching up with me, but I’ve been craving the meals I had as a kid more and more.”  

I wrapped my arms around his next as we swayed. “José Pedro Balmaceda Pascal, there’s nothing wrong with a little nostalgia.”  

He groaned, “I love when you say my whole name.” He dropped his head to my shoulder and rested his hands above my ass. I rolled my eyes. “Makes me tingle all over.”

I lightly shoved him away. “Such a weirdo.” I smiled as he gasped and laid his hands over his heart.

“I’ve been wounded mi amor.” He leaned against the counter.

“Aww poor baby.” I pouted at him.

He glared at me, “Alright Dinah Rachel--” I quickly covered his mouth.

“Okay, okay. No need to pull my Hebrew name into this.” I sighed. “You’re getting better.”

I moved my hands from his mouth. “Well, I did work with Gal, picked up a few things.”

I tilted my head at him. “You started learning to pronounce Hebrew when we were just starting out?” I felt my pulse pick up.

A light dust took over his cheeks and he rubbed the back of his neck. “It was important to you, and I know Spanish is much easier.”  

I bit my lower lip to keep from crying. “That-” I sniffled.

“Oh no,” he quickly moved and hugged me close to him. “I’m so sorry baby.”

I nuzzled his chest and gripped the back of his shirt. “That’s so sweet.” I whimpered out.  

He rubbed my back. “Aw baby.”  

I looked up at him. “You really are the best.”  

He smiled and I stood on my toes pressing my lips against his. He hummed kissing me back and gripped my waist. I wrapped my arms around his neck letting my fingers tangle into his curls.  

His tongue brushed against my lower lip and as we began to explore each other’s mouths, a sizzling sound pulled us apart. We looked over at the stove to see the broth for the soup overflowing.  

“Shit,” he reached over and turned the burner down. He shook his head and grabbed two bowls from the cabinet. “Let’s eat and then we can continue.”  

I hummed and grabbed the spoons as Pedro filled the bowls. “I like the sound of that.”  

He smiled and we walked over to the couch before settling in.  

It was going to be nice having him home, even if only for a few weeks before his next project.

#pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x jewish!reader #sammi writes #pedro pascal #actor fanfic #real life fic #this was super self indulgent #hopefully someone enjoys it

[sexlapis]

[◉°] … Y/N & TOJI BEING A COUPLE FOR 10 MINUTES STRAIGHT… 537k views

⌦ 🎬 ⁺　　　.　　　　❀

꩜ actor! toji x actress! reader

⤷ synopsis : you & toji deny the dating rumours, but you’re both being a little bit too comfortable with each other for your relationship to be just “platonic”.

sfw, fluff, toji is a little ooc <3

. art credits to deltapork on twitter

.. inspired by this post

… part 2, part 3, part 4

masterlists

actor!toji masterlist

꩜ first clip

you & toji are in an interview, one to promote the upcoming release of the action movie you both star in where you’re the main love interest. it is bound to be a huge success, judging by the interest and how everyone loves the chemistry you and toji have both in and out of film!

the interviewer asks you a question and while you’re responding you can feel someone staring at you. you turn to your left where toji is sitting, and he has his eyes dead set on you, not looking away for one second. you turn your focus back to the interviewer to continue answering, but you can’t help but turn back and see that he is still staring at you with his intense blue eyes. you repeat this a few times before cutting off your own sentence with a giggle and covering your face with your hands.

toji chuckles in confusion, looking at the interviewer and then back at you, bewildered. “what-whats so funny?”

you look at toji with your hands still covering your face. “toji, i can’t concentrate when you look at me like that!”

toji tilts his head, swiftly shifting his chair in your direction and leans closer to you, practically nose to nose at this point. “like what?”

“like that!” you laugh, covering your hot face once more as he and the interviewer laugh at your actions.

the interviewer chimes in. “i do have to say, your eyes can be quite intimidating..”

“see?!” you say to toji and then look to the interviewer. “thank you.”

toji huffs and just looks at you. and you look back at him with a small grin on your face.

you speak. “as i was saying…”

you repeat your response to the question and toji exaggeratedly stares at you and you attempt to ignore it (and fail).

꩜ second clip

this was a behind the scenes clip, where your cast member is speaking about his characters relationship with the other main characters but sadly for him, that is not where the viewers’ attention was.

in the background, they see toji sitting on a couch looking at his phone and then you walking into frame. toji looks up from his phone, and if you look very closely, he can be seen smiling at you. you walk over and plop down on the couch right next to him. you both talk to each other for a few moments, faces close together and then you lay your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes and taking what appears to be a nap. toji, moving as slowly as he can, takes a blanket that is already on the couch and drapes of over you. you snuggle closer to him, prompting toji to rest his head on top of yours. he does just that.

꩜ third clip

during an interview with you and the cast members, including toji, in front of a live audience, you somehow found yourselves on the topic of the types of cars you all have. you then remember how toji had told you about a motorcycle he owned, but you forgot which kind.

“i think i wanna ride on toji’s..motorcycle! i think-”

you hear the audience laugh and hear a few wolf whistles and you turn to your fellow actors, who are also laughing, especially gojo. you seem confused, but then you think back to what you said a second ago and feel your face heat up in embarrassment.

“oh, no no nonono-” shaking your head vehemently, “that is not-”

“toji’s motorcycle eh?” gojo teases while raising his eyebrows and wiggling his fingers, which only encourages the mockery and your desire to punch him.

you cover your face with your hand and sigh. “oh my god.”

while everybody in the room makes fun of you, you look to the left to see toji’s reaction and the camera pans to his smug smirking face.

“i mean i’m free friday night so..” he trails off, winks at you and the audience goes crazy and you shove your face in your hands.

“forget i even said anything!”

꩜ fourth clip

you and toji were recording a little vlog like video for the fans, talking about what it was like on set when you get onto the subject of what working with the other cast members is like.

“yeah gojo’s is pain in the ass.” toji states and shakes his head, fondly almost. “never stops running that big mouth ‘a his.”

spits of laughter fall from your mouth at his frankness. “uhh..yeah that’s true, gojo if you see this don’t be offended!”

“yeah we still like you we just..wish you’d shut the fuck up more often.”

“toji!” you gasp and slap his chest, “you’re no spring chicken either you know.”

toji scoffs and looks at you with a raised brow. “yeah, you’re a handful yourself.”

“what? no i’m not!” toji tilts his head and blinks. “everyone says i’m great to work with. you’re such a liar.” you roll your eyes with a laugh.

toji chuckles and moves closer to you on the sofa, and leans towards your face. “no ‘s alright. i have big hands.” he places a kiss on your cheek.

“ew, you’re so corny!” you lean away and wipe away his kiss, trying not to smile and look flustered.

꩜ fifth clip

this was a big day for y/n x toji lovers, when a movie you were both in won an award. now, neither of you were the main characters, but the fans made sure to make you both the most popular ones.

while the director is accepting the award, fans zoomed in on you and toji standing near the back of the group of cast members, where you’re tearing up and trying not to cry. you’re wiping your tears and toji looks at you and does a double take when he realises that you’re crying. he looks down at you and hugs you from the side, which makes you lay your head on his chest and wrap an arm around his waist. toji accepts this invitation and full on hugs you, kissing the top of your head softly and rubbing your back.

꩜ sixth clip

toji posts workout videos on his instagram stories. they’re mostly of him lifting weights and they’re rare, so fans cherish them.

and then theres a short video of you laying on top of toji’s back while he does pushups like it’s nothing. you’re smiling, spreading your arms out like you’re flying. toji suddenly starts going fast as fuck, making you bounce and almost fall off. you gasp and start hitting the back of his head while the person recording starts to laugh (most likely gojo).

you fall off toji’s back and lay on the floor like a starfish. the camera pans to a proud looking toji before you kick his face.

a/n: thank u for reading ^_-

#pls lemme know if you liked i feel like i could’ve done a little better <3 #actress!reader #actor!toji #toji x reader #toji x you #toji x y/n #toji x self insert #toji fluff #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro x y/n #toji fushiguro x self insert #toji fushiguro fluff #toji fic #toji fanfic #fushiguro toji x reader #fushiguro toji x you #fushiguro toji fluff #fushiguro toji x y/n

[turtleblogatlast]

AU where Leo is trapped in the Prison Dimension for months instead of minutes and the only way he gets by with his sanity intact is through recording himself talking to his wrist comm.

When they finally manage to get Leo back and make him rest up to heal, Donnie can’t help but listen to the recordings left behind.

He’s not sure what exactly he’s expecting, only that his subconscious is screaming at him that it has to be heartbreaking, that it has to be torturous.

Instead, what Donnie is subject to is a full thousand hours’ worth of Jupiter Jim and Lou Jitsu crossover fanfiction. More than one part in the series. Spanning well over a million words.

(The worst part is that it’s actually good.)

#rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt headcanons #donnie keeps the comms going on in the background as he works #when he gets to the end he’s like what the hell…where’s the rest #donnie: leo where’s part nine #leo barely cognizant after not needing sleep for months: whuh- #donnie: you can’t leave it at a cliffhanger. leo. leo where’s the next part. #listen leo has a great memory for his special interests this is CANON plus he’s a great talker so he would totally be able to do this frfr #whenever he needs to be quiet he’s SILENT but otherwise he’s regaling the exploits of his idols to the captive audience that is The Photo #sometimes Krang sneaks up on him and just listens to him talk like ???? #it starts both as leo trying to comfort himself with his favorite things PLUS comfort himself with thoughts of his father #as splinter makes his own crossover fanfiction when sick lol plus he’s Literally Lou Jitsu #and yes krang ALSO gets a bit invested #leo notices the reduction of Ouch but hey more time for rambling fanfic for him 👍 #idk leo’s a damn good actor/liar/planner/schemer and I genuinely think that can pivot into storytelling so well #the literal second mikey’s hands heal donnie zooms to his side with hand stabilizers and a request to draw ‘scene 82 from recording 3’ #mikey’s like what #so obvs now HE needs to listen as he works #he too gets invested #he comes across raph who mentions having trouble sleeping #mikey: have I got the podcast fanfic for you! #it only somewhat helps raph sleep #somewhat bc sometimes he forces himself to stay awake to hear the rest #yes these recordings go to the whole fam and leo is none the wiser #they don’t even mean to hide it it just never comes up lol #it’s only when donnie FINALLY makes it to the end of the recordings that he confronts leo to continue the story #leo: oH YOU HEARD ALL THAT HUH-

[jomarch-wannabe]

Sold (Tommy Shelby x Fem!Reader)

Pairings: Tommy Shelby x Gold's daughter!Reader

Synopsis: The coin lands on tails

Warnings: Smut 🔞(implied age gap, dubcon/noncon, virginity loss, p in v sex, rough sex, cursing, praise kink, sir kink, choking, overstimulation) Angst (anxiety, crying, manipulation, blood loss)

Author's note: I thought of this on a whim one day and went with it. Definitely a darker portrayal of Tommy.. read at your own discretion.

CH. ONE CH. TWO

——————————————————————————

“I’m gonna spin a coin for your yard Charlie.”

“You goin’ what?”

“If it’s heads, Abe here takes all this,” Tommy explained with an extended hand, “with my blessing.”

“Tommy!”

“And if it’s tails,” Tommy paused, flicking his eyes to Aberama's cocked brow. “I fuck your daughter Mr. Gold.”

His face fell stone cold at the proposition.

“What’ll it be?” Tommy asked with a smug expression, dragging a cigarette across his lips. “Heads or tails?”

“Heads.” Abbie spat, straightening his posture to assert dominance.

Tommy’s expression remained unchanged as he twirled the coin between his fingers before tossing it in the air, catching it on top of his hand.

His pale blue eyes glinted as he uncovered the coin, facing tails up. In an effort to contain his amusement his tongue poked the inside of his cheek as his eyes flicked up to Abe.

“A deal is a deal.” Abe coughed, adjusting the collar of his coat, clenching his jaw.

Tommy nodded in acknowledgement as his face cast aglow from the flame of his cigarette. Behind the orange glare you could faintly make out the edge of his lips tugging into a smirk.

——————————————————————————

Expensive shoes crunched lightly against the gravel of Thomas Shelby’s driveway as you exited your lift. Your breath hitched in nervousness as the car rolled away behind you, disappearing into the darkness.

With a few hesitant steps you made contact with the door, knocking lightly against the wood. After a few moments a maid named Frances let you in, granting your chilled limbs a satisfying warmth in the lit up foyer.

Her hands fell open out of habit, prepared for your coat. The fabric fell off your shoulders with the shrug of your arms, exposing your skin.

She smiled warmly as she received it, turning from you to place it on a rack. With her back to you, you were granted the privacy to unhide your expression. The heaviness of shame dragged the corners of your mouth into a frown.

She turned to you, attentive with her posture and eyes. “Are you here to see Charlie? A sitter perhaps?” Her brows raised in a sort of put on friendliness.

You blinked, thumbing the beads hanging off your dress. “N-no,” you replied shyly, lifting your eyes to meet hers. “I’m here to see Thomas Shelby.”

Her warm expression melted at the realization, the falling of her lips communicated an unspoken sympathy.

You took in a breath, shaky with anticipation. “Might you direct me to his room?”

“Right, of course.” She shook her head in embarrassment, forcing a smile and guiding you with an extended arm.

As you followed behind her and up the stairs, your eyes flicked over the many paintings on the walls. A blonde woman caught your eye. She was beautiful; framed in a circle of moonlight pouring through a nearby window. Your neck craned, following her eyes, as they did you grew nauseous.

“It’s just down the hall there dear,” The maid directed with a pointed finger, dissolving your trance.

Your eyes scanned over the many doors, stopping at one furthest down the hall. An orange glow spread from under the door, illuminating a path on the embroidered carpet.

“Thank you.” You murmured, keeping your eyes down, and starting down the vacant hall.

She hummed as she departed, disappearing carefully down the stairs.

Hesitant steps carried you down the dark corridor. The shaking of your breath broke the stillness of the air as you grew closer to your fate. A throbbing commenced in your head as you stopped, hovering inches from the door.

Black shadows moved at your feet, indicating activity on the other side. Swallowing thickly, you raised your fist to hover against the wood. With a heavy breath you knocked lightly, 2 times. A stirring of bed sheets came through the door, making you freeze.

“Come in.” a masculine voice called out, increasing your heart rate.

With his instruction, you turned the knob, twisting it’s cool handle and pushing it open with a creak. Candlelight lit up his figure as you entered the room.

Your chest rose as your eyes flicked over his shirtless form, sprawled under white bed sheets with a drink in his outstretched arm. He was otherworldly. His taut chest was covered in ripples of muscle, decorated with a tattoo. His firm forearms twitched slightly as he thumbed the glass in his hand. Your posture stiffened as you closed the door behind you, not removing your eyes from him.

“So you’re Gold’s daughter eh?” He asked, although already knowing the answer. His eyes hungrily scanned your body as he awaited a response.

“Y-yes.” You subconsciously played with the hem of your dress as his piercing blue eyes drank you in.

“What’s your name?” The bed springs squeaked as he swung his legs over the side of the bed, reaching to sit his drink on the nightstand.

Your breath hitched at the quiet thud against the wood. “Y/n, sir.”

He was quiet for a moment, suppressing a groan at your pet name. “That’s a lovely name.”

Your eyes wandered to his shifting hips as he neared you, growing taller with every step. The thin white fabric of his boxers scarcely hid the print of his length.

“Y/n.” He repeated to himself, admiring you with parted lips. Your attention moved to him as your name dripped off his tongue. In closeness you could smell his cologne, almost taste it.

I’m curiosity he extended a finger out to brush your cheek, tracing your soft, youthful skin.

The contact made your face burn, unfamiliar with the feeling of a man’s touch.

He pulled away in surprise, studying you with furrowed brows.

His gaze was dominant, powerful, making you feel small and submissive in his presence. His proximity was arousing, close enough to feel his body heat warming yours.

“Are you a virgin?” His voice was low and gravely, making your stomach sink.

You couldn’t help your eyes from watering, both in embarrassment and fear. “Y-yes sir.”

“Fuck.” He groaned, clenching his jaw.

You shifted your weight on each foot, unsure if he was aroused or regretful.

“I’ve never taken a man Mr. Shelby.” With wide, innocent eyes you studied his face. His captivating crystal eyes, his prominent cheek bones, then down to his pink, plump lips, glistening with saliva as he pulled his bottom lip into his teeth.

You mimicked him subconsciously, growing in desire as you studied his masculine features.

His eyes met yours making you gasp softly.

Without warning he closed the gap between you, capturing your mouth in his.

The impact pushed you back slightly, if not for his hand on your back you would have stumbled over.

His breath fanned your cheek as his lips hungrily caressed yours, sucking at your mouth with his.

Your heart pounded with adrenaline, both in arousal and fear.

Your neck craned as you clumsily kissed him back, steadying yourself with your fingers against his shifting jaw.

He groaned at your touch, pulling away from you with a pop. Your eyes fluttered open at his retreat, finding his lust blown pupils, glistening in the amber light.

His hand slid up your back in eagerness, though not rushed, reaching for the top zipper. The feeling of his hands on your body send chills down your skin.

Your dress loosened as he pulled down, nearly exposing your chest if not for your hand catching the falling fabric.

“Wait..” your voice trembled, blinking in fear. His fingers loosened from the zipper at your protest.

“It’s just,” you breathed in, chewing your lip as to not grow upset, “I’m afraid.”

In amusement his mouth curled into a half smile, exposing his teeth, intrigued by your innocence.

Don’t worry love,” he leaned into your ear, muttering lowly with a gravely tone, “I’ve got the best cock in England.”

There wasn’t sarcastic tone in his voice, rather a seriousness, a confidence that rolled off his tongue. The thought made your stomach twist.

“Let me see you.”

You obliged, knowing it was a command and not a suggestion. Slowly, your hand lifted from your chest, allowing the gown the fall down your body.

It hit the floor with a soft thud, exposing your youthful figure. A chill raised on your skin at your bareness, causing you to shiver slightly.

He pulled back from your ear, taking time to admire you. His mouth fell agape as he took you in. Your slender shoulders, narrow hips, and pink nipples, erect in the cool air.

“Christ.”

Instinctually you covered yourself, hiding your breasts and core with trembling hands.

Your couldn’t face him, instead finding your gaze on the floor, watching your feet shift against the velvety carpet.

He shook his head, stepping towards you, bumping into your arms with his abdomen.

Your head tilted at the new angle, finding him looking down at you past his nose. “Don’t hide from me love.”

Your skin warmed as his large hands grasped your wrists, making your heart pound as he easily pulled them from your body.

“I need to fuck that little cunt.” He breathed to himself, exploring his hands up your skin, leaving goosebumps in their place.

Anticipating his cock inside of you made your stomach twist in knots.

His hands stopped at your shoulders, making you stumble backwards as he maneuvered you to the bed. The wood frame met your heels as you met the edge.

“Lay back love,” the force of his hands gently pushed you backwards, lowering you onto the mattress.

You sucked in a breath as the soft comforter swallowed your small frame, leaving you sprawled open. His eyes flicked over you with a predatory gaze, clenching his jaw in arousal as he scanned your body, ready to receive him. Your hair spread underneath you, rippling in soft waves across his sheets.

He worked his boxers down with his thumb, causing your chest to rise as he shuffled the fabric down his thighs.

A patch of dark hair exposed itself at the movement, before finally revealing his half hard cock, bobbing towards his toned abdomen.

Your lips parted in intrigue as he fisted himself a few times, growing hard as his thick fingers stimulated his reddened head.

He let out a withheld breath, dipping the mattress with his weight as he crawled on top of you, trapping you in with his outstretched arms.

Your heart was pounding at a dizzying pace as he closed the space between you. His body heat evaporated his scent, cool with lingering cigarette smoke and whiskey. You breathed him in, foreign to the musk of a man.

“I’ll take good care of you love,” he reassured, pulling your attention to him with a hand in your hair. “don’t worry..” he spoke against your lips, pulling you in for a long kiss.

Your eyes fell closed at the contact. His breath fanned your cheek as he tasted you, groaning lowly as he worked his soft lips against yours.

Imagining his skill made your thighs clench, knowing the amount of women he has been with.

Your squirming under him caught his attention, causing him to break the kiss, hovering inches from your face.

“Are you ready?” He asked, scanning over your face with an eagerness in his turquoise blue eyes.

“I have to be.” You mumbled in an uncertain tone, chewing the inside of your cheek.

He let out a heavy breath as he diverted his eyes from you, reaching for his length. You watched him attentively as he grasped himself, lining up with your open legs.

His other hand pinned down your thighs, making you stuck in a breath as he spread your soft flesh with his firm fingers.

With knit brows he pushed himself into your entrance, making you both gasp.

You fisted the sheets at the unfamiliar pressure, growing in intensity.

“Fuck…” He groaned as he worked into you, stretching out your tight walls with his thick cock.

You whimpered in pain as he buried himself inside of you, not stopping until his thighs touched yours.

He pulled out slightly, making your breath hitch as your insides burned.

The sheets wrestled as he changed positions, resting on his elbows to close the gap between you. His length bumped further into you, making you clench around him.

“Mr. Shelby.. I- I can’t..” you whimpered, writhing under him, looking to ease the feeling of fullness.

“Shh..” he soothed, hovering against your ear “It’ll feel good love, I promise.” His lips met your cheek softly, making you let out a breath.

With a concentration in his brow he pulled out slowly, making you gasp, empty and clenching around nothing.

His thick traps impeded your view, only giving you access to his shifting jaw and taut chest pressing into yours.

He plunged into you again with the bucking of hips, quicker this time, forcing himself inside of you.

You squeaked at the movement, feeling a pressure in your walls as he claimed you.

He began a steady rhythm, chasing pleasure with shaky breaths as he rocked in and out of you at a quick pace.

Your eyes squint shut as he stimulated you, sheathing you with his cock. The hair of his thighs tickled yours as he pounded in and out of you, rocking the bed.

He groaned lowly as you squeezed him, and began to pick up his intensity, harshly colliding with your body.

“Oh fuck..” he groaned with knit brows, fucking you hard. “Good girl, squeeze me like that.”

His praise withdrew a whimper from your throat, encouraging you to slide your hands over his back. Your fingers explored the muscles of his shoulders, shifting with his movements.

The continuous intrusion of his length nudged a spot inside of you, making your toes curl.

“Mr. Shelby..” you whined, holding onto his shifting shoulders for leverage. His body was warm and tough with muscle.

Your sounds encouraged him, and he rutted into you harder, repeatedly hitting that spot inside of you, sending bursts of pleasure down your legs.

Your nails dug into his flesh subconsciously, kneading his skin damp with sweat. He groaned, aroused by the pain of your nails in his flesh.

His breathing labored as he fucked you, fanning your face as his forehead fell against yours. You were spilling in arousal, squelching with his every movement.

Rapid breaths escaped your parted lips. Chasing the feeling, you arched your back, bumping into his chest. His sweat covered skin rubbed against yours as he fucked you.

“Are you close?”

Numb with pleasure your head nodded, unable to form words.

“Good girl..” he praised breathlessly, “good girl..” He rocked into you forcefully, moving your body back and forth on the mattress.

“I’m gonna-“ you paused, stunned by a wave of pleasure from his calculated thrusts, “Mr. Shelby..” your whimpered, helpless as your muscles tensed underneath him.

“Come for me sweetheart,” he panted, burying his head in your neck, “come for me.” His deep gravely voice pulled you over the edge.

“Oh fuck!” You yelped, convulsing as waves of pleasure wrecked through your body.

Your eyes squeezed shut in euphoria, mouthing incoherent words as he fucked you through your high, murmuring against your skin.

He moaned deeply as your spasming walls squeezed his length, making his pace waver for a moment.

“Fuck..” you moaned, wrestling the sheets with your squirming.

He didn’t stop, relentlessly fucking your overstimulated entrance with his thick length.

“Mr. Shelby.. it’s too much..” your nails dug into his back in pain.

“I’m almost there love,” he panted, red in the face as he neared his high.

His length continued to pry into you, deeper and harder as his desperation grew.

You squirmed instinctively, pulling yourself away from his cock.

He intercepted your resistance with a firm hand sliding up your throat. His grasp caught the breath in your lungs, making your eyes water.

“Fuck.. stay put love..” he groaned lowly, nudging his nose against your neck as he rutted in and out of you.

Your eyelids drooped at the pressure, lazily following the shifting muscles in his back.

“Ahhh..” he groaned deeply, flexing his core against yours. “Oh fuck…”

He came undone at last, emptying himself into you with a loud groan. “Christ..” he cursed with an open mouth, bucking his hips against yours as his warm seed filled you up.

His grasp tightened slightly as he tensed, unleashing a tear down your cheek and onto his hand.

His pace slowed to shallow rocking, as he came down from his high. Once satisfied, he pulled out with a slick wet noise, making your thighs shake.

His hand released from your throat as he caught his breath, lifting his head from yours to hover above you. His forehand fell against yours in exhaustion, leaving a bead of sweat on your face.

Without saying a word he leaned in, kissing your damp skin, removing the wetness with his lips.

You clenched your jaw, trying best to keep your emotions as bay as you turned your head from him, softly sniffling.

He pulled away from you, rolling to his back with a satisfied sigh as he reached for a cigarette on the nightstand.

While he was occupied you sat up slightly, pulling the covers over your exposed limbs.

As you did so your eyes caught a glimpse of red on the sheets. They wandered to your open thighs, widening at the sight of smeared blood.

You held a hand to you face, blinking in shock and turning to Tommy, “There’s blood!”

Your hand on his forearm turned his attention to you. “It’s okay love,” he took a drag of his cigarette, inhaling a fair amount of smoke, “It’s normal.” His free hand reached for yours, smoothing over your knuckles with his thumb as he let out a puff of smoke through pursed lips.

His touch unleashed a flood of tears from your eyes, which you quickly covered with your hand as they trickled down your face.

You sucked in short breaths, crying against your hand as your body shook.

“Eh, what’s the matter?” He asked softly, reaching for you.

You shook your head, refusing to speak the truth, instead letting it out in the form of tears, forming dark circles on his sheets.

“Talk to me love,” His voice held a tone of sincerity as he kept his eyes to your frame. “Please.”

You took in a shaky breath, swiping your face before letting down your hand. “I’m just a body to you.”

Your gaze was emotionless, frozen on the yellow wallpaper in front of you, dancing over each flower design.

With enough courage you turned your head to face him, pulling your watery eyes to his. “I don’t want to just be a body Thomas.”

The sound of his name on your lips made him freeze. It was vulnerable. Desperate. His cold expression fell, replacing with one of sympathy and warmth in the flicking of his eyes.

“You’re not.” He shook his head, putting his cigarette down and smoothing his other hand over your arm. You leaned into his touch, sucking in a shaky breath through your mouth and rolling onto his chest.

“You’re not just a body to me love.” He spoke against your hair, smoothing over your back with firm strokes.

You nestled against his chest, focusing on the sounds of his shallow breathing against your ear, slowing your tears.

“I’ll make you more than that.”

#thomas shelby #tommy shelby #cillian murphy #aberama gold #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #peaky blinders #tommy shelby fanfic #thomas shelby fanfiction #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby angst #fan fiction #x reader #x you #x you smut #daddy issues #oldermen #british men #british actors #peaky fookin blinders #bbc #netflix

[honeyedmiller]

The Hills | Joel Miller

pairing: actor!joel x f!reader

rating: 18+, minors do not interact.

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

word count: 6.1k

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

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

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

Right?

Sort of.

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

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

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

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

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

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

So you hated him right back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Perfect.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Motherfucker.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re such a fuckin’ brat.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck you, Miller.”

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

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

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

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

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Joel—”

“Turn around.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.” You whisper.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Well, check fucking mate for him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“IUD.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fucking let them hear.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Get a grip.

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

Maybe one wouldn’t hurt.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were so fucked, you think.

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

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

tags: @ilovepedro @nostalxgic @punkshort @endlessthxxghts

-

dividers by @saradika-graphics

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

[henneseyhoe]

Princess.

Trevante Rhodes x BLACK!FEM!reader

WARNINGS: SUB!reader, DOM!trevante, thigh riding, size kink, breeding kink, rough s*x, reader and Tre are married but it isn’t implied, daddy kink, no protection(wrap it before ya smack it), just really nasty chile…

SUMMARY: how Trevante acts with his pretty princess <3 (I was in heat writing this, sorry in advance)

Ps. Inspo from @notapradagurl7 recent fic <3

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He’s so exhausted when he comes home from his big boy job but seeing her gives him so much energy. He just wants to pull her into his lap and hold her, letting her ramble about her day and tell him all about the new things she learned and all the things she bought when she went out shopping.

“Tell daddy what you got” He’d say as she bounced excitedly on his thighs, innocent and unknowingly waking up a demon that was kept under wraps since early that morning. He just didn’t wanna wake his baby so early. She’d go on and on about all the cute clothes she found and the purses she bought online, the good food she ate and the nap she took before he arrived. He’d listen and pretend his dick wasn’t growing hard under her ass.

How he’d run baths for her when he was home, adding her favorite scent and bubbles to the water as she’d put her hair in a ponytail to avoid wetting it. She’d ask nicely to be carried to the tub because her legs were just too sore after being fucked until she blacked out and forgot her name. Her knees also aching from being on them for so long, taking his dick deep down her throat until she choked and a strong gag forced him to pull out before he was painting her face with his cum. She already felt so full of him even with his essence leaking out of her and dripping down her thigh, there was no way she would make it to the bathroom.

When she’d do something that was on the “no-no” list and he’d make her pick her own punishments. He’d ask if she deserved an easy one and she’d nod with teary eyes, already having a stinging bottom from the spankings he gave her earlier for touching herself while he was at work. He’d shake his head with a ‘tsk’ and simply throw her over his shoulder, carrying her to their playroom.

And that time she had made him play with her, forcing a game of hide and seek before he’d give up in frustration from not finding her for over ten minutes. She’d giggle and reveal she was hiding in the coat closet the whole time and as obvious as it was, he still hadn’t found her.

He wasn’t always a nice daddy. He had his limits when she just wouldn’t listen. Those were the times where he either made her cum back to back with no break until their sheets were soaking wet or he’d refuse to let her cum at all, watching her cry and beg as he’d take the vibrator away from her swollen and overstimulated clit any time she made that face.

He loved when she was desperate for him. She was just too cute. There were times where he’d go on business trips for days and come back to her needy than ever. She’d do anything for him just to have a simple touch.

When he suspected her to have touched herself in that time of need and he’d refuse to give her what she wanted, but he’d let her ride his thigh like the needy crybaby she was. Her panties were so damn wet that when she rose up off of him she left a wet spot on his slacks, proof of how much she had came just from that little bit of release.

“You miss daddy? I know you did, princess” He smiles, those pearly whites shining at her. She melts from the sight.

He loved her reaction when he’d fill her up unexpectedly. He slams into her with that last rough stroke and she’d let a small gasp fall from those plump lips that were once glossed before Trevante had basically kissed it all off. She could feel the liquid threatening to drip from her entrance and she could only hope that was what would get her pregnant with his baby.

She couldn’t help but think of carrying his seed and getting turned on. Sometimes she’d purposely make him cum inside of her so he’d go to work with empty balls and she’d get to run errands filled to the brim with him. Sometimes she’d even stop by a few maternity stores while she was at it too, just out of curiosity(not) before scurrying off to do something else.

He was so sweet. He’d buy her gifts she had been wanting for a long time, no matter how useless or weird it was to him or anybody else, he knew she wanted it and anything princess wanted, princess got. She even had her own room, decorated how she liked with her favorite colors and favorite things.

He was only ever rough with her when she wanted him to be, which was most of the time, but there were times where she wanted to be soft too, and he supplied that also. Some small gestures like fixing the bow in her hair or helping her reach something on the top shelf….or slowly fucking into her as he cradled her head in his large hands, looking into her soft eyes while she pouted, her tummy feeling butterflies every time he’d hit her special spot. He was so tired and fucked out, but he couldn’t stop until he and his princess was drained completely.

The way he ate her out alone was soft. He licked and slurped on her pretty little pearl, complementing her on how good she tasted and how daddy could eat her for hours. She would try not to close her legs and push him away.

✮✮✮✮

🏷️ @thatone-girly @notapradagurl7 @swavydadon @miyahmaraj @planetblaque @msinterludee @milkiboo @bloodripleygal @stevelacyballs @naj-ay444 @blackelysian @shaolyninferno

#black fanfic writer #black fanfiction #black!reader #black reader #black!fem!reader #masterlist #black!oc #black actors #trevante rhodes fan fiction #trevante rhodes smut #trevante rhodes imagines #trevante rhodes fic #trevante x reader #trevante rhodes x reader #trevante rhodes #actor smut #smut masterlist #black smut #smut blog #smutty #henneseyhoe

[unfinishedslurs]

eddie's flat ass (steddie)

Dustin whips around as soon as they’re alone. “Steve!”

“I’m Eddie.”

“No, I mean you and Steve. You like him.”

“Of course I like him, Henderson,” Eddie says flatly, pressing a little harder on the gas in hopes of getting to Dustin’s house before he admits something he regrets. “We’re friends. Best buds. A couple of dudes being bros.”

“You’re full of shit,” Dustin says. “I’m not stupid. I saw that. I wish I hadn’t, but I saw it. You’re, like, stupidly into him. I don’t know how I didn’t see it before.”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie mutters. His street can’t come soon enough. 

Dustin pushes through. “When are you gonna ask him out?”

“Uh, never?”

“What?!”

“Close your mouth, you’ll catch flies,” Eddie rolls his eyes. “Nothings going to happen, Henderson. Yeah, I’ve got a stupid fucking crush on your babysitter, it doesn’t mean that Steve’s interested in me. He likes girls, Dustin, did you miss that part in the dossier? He thinks we’re a couple of straight guys horsing around, if he found out I was flirting with him I could be thrown into Hunt the Freak 2: the thrilling sequel.”

Dustin’s mouth snaps shut, and he laughs nervously. “Right,” he agrees. “He likes girls. But, uh, hypothetically, if he was into guys…”

They roll to a stop sign, and Eddie turns away from the road to tell the little shit off. But Dustin’s fidgeting, staring steadfast at the road and refusing to meet his eye. 

“You know something,” he realizes. 

“Uh…”

Eddie’s about to shake it out of him. “You’re hiding something, you little shit. What is it? Tell me.”

“I’m not,” he squeaks. 

“Bull-shit you aren’t. What is it? Is it about Steve?” Eddie pales. “Shit, does he know about me?”

“Well…”

“What the hell?!”

“I didn’t tell him!” Dustin yelps. “If you didn’t want him to know, maybe you shouldn’t have been so obvious!”

“Check your tone,” he snaps, hand shaking as he pulls on his hair. “Shit, shit, shit, okay, it’s fine, I just need to flee the country—“

“Why?”

Eddie is this close to throttling the kid. “What do you mean why?”

“Why is this such a big deal?”

“It could get me killed!” He shouts, banging a hand against the steering wheel. “He could—he could fucking tell somebody, and—“

“He wouldn’t do that!”

“How the fuck am I supposed to know that? You think someone’s a good guy until you’re interested in them, and then it’s all ‘You’re fucking disgusting,’ or ‘Freak,’ or ‘Don’t touch me, you fa—‘“

“Stop!” Dustin shouts, white knuckling the armrest. “Eddie, stop. He’s not going to tell anyone. It’s gonna be okay. It’s fine.”

“It’s not.”

“It’s fine,” Dustin stresses. “Steve doesn’t care if you’re gay. He definitely doesn’t mind you flirting with him.”

“You don’t know that,” Eddie says. 

“Yeah I do.”

“How?”

There’s that deer in headlights look again. Then Dustin takes a deep breath, and his expression turns guilty. 

“I know you’re not supposed to tell people this,” he says, “but you’re freaking out really bad and I’m, like, 99% sure Steve thinks you already know.”

“Steve thinks I know what?”

Dustin tells him. 

Two hours later, he’s still laying on the floor in the trailer, looking up at the ceiling. 

Bisexual. Steve Harrington, the man Eddie’s always hailed as the patron saint of heterosexuality, likes men. 

Might like Eddie. 

“Are you flirting with me?” Eddie blurts out, and immediately tries to bolt. 

He runs face first into a wall and ends up on the ground, wishing the demobats had just killed him. 

Steve appears in his line of vision, standing over his sprawled body. Eddie is treated to a wonderful view, eyes moving from his long, athletic legs to his crotch to his chest and broad shoulders, and finally reaches his face. His very amused face. 

Eddie’s entire body lights on fire. 

“What the hell was that?” Steve asks, laughing. 

“Uh…”

“Wile E Coyote over here. Seriously, man, that was some Loony Toons shit. I’m embarrassed for you.”

“Oh my God, shut up,” he groans. “Just let me die.”

“No way in hell. Sorry, Munson, I put too much work into saving your flat ass to throw it away like that.” Steve grins, holding a hand out for Eddie to take. He ignores it, rolling over so Steve can’t see how red his face is. 

“My ass isn’t flat,” he mumbles into the carpet. 

“Oh, it is,” Steve says cheerfully, nudging said ass with his foot, because he’s a bastard. Eddie doesn’t know why he likes him so much. Everything he does is catastrophically bad for his continued survival. “It’s cute though. I like it.”

“Henderson said, uh, that you were…umm…maybeflirtingwithme?” Eddie finishes in a rush. 

“What?”

Steve’s face is open, automatically tilting his right ear towards Eddie. Eddie doesn’t know if he’s aware that’s something he does. Robin says it’s because of all the concussions, his left ear just isn’t what it used to be. 

Eddie sags, unable to lie to his wide-eyed confusion. “Dustin said you're flirting with me.”

Steve stares at him. 

Eddie fidgets under his incredulous gaze, growing more anxious by the minute. Oh God, Dustin was wrong. Dustin was wrong about everything. Steve probably doesn’t even actually like boys, Jesus. The whole thing is obviously a bust. Eddie needs to cut and run, maybe make some bullshit excuse about his uncle needing him home even though Steve knows Wayne’s working right now—

“You needed Henderson to tell you that?”

#eddie's flat ass au #i tried to come up with a name for two whole minutes and that's what i landed on #eddie munson #steve harrington #dustin henderson #steddie #sorry to all the thicc eddie truthers out there but that man is a board #idk what his actors ass looks like and idc. some things surpass the physical #stranger things fanfic #listen technically dustin is outing steve but in his defense steve fully thinks eddie knows he's bi #and if eddie wasn't told he was going to do something drastic

[muffinlance]

Do you get the impression the live action is treating us like utter morons?? Like I thought that making it aimed at an older audience would open the doors for more subtle story telling, but no, they're just using monologues to tell us eveything! Like in the second episode Katara's like 'oh his power isn't that he's the avatar, it's that he ~connects~ to people'. Girl we're not idiots we can see that!! And the first episode with Aang's goddawful 'I don't want this responsibility' monologue

THIS, YES. The word that keeps coming to mind is definitely "subtlety". The show for literal children? Had it. The remake for adults? Not so much.

#This is literally Storytelling 101: Show Don't Tell #I'm sorry scriptwriters I know you were working before your union won minimal staffing in writers' rooms and decent pay and all that #but You Know What You Did #Also cgi artists plz unionize #A few more hours on Momo would have maybe taken him further out of the nightmare monkey puppet category #I know some people are reporting him as cute #But all I can see is a creature from the Magnus Archives #that thing is the skin of Momo being worn by something that doesn't quite move right underneath #And maybe it is looking for a better fit #Don't let it touch you adorable child actor Aang #avatar the last airbender #atla #natla #Anyone looking to block the live action posts I'll be tagging all of these with that natla tag going forward #But yeah not going to post about it much #I came I saw I deemed it not worth the hours of my life it asked #I can literally write a better Avatar AU than this #Anyway back to Toph beating up Blind Zuko! #*write write write" #(their big budget fanfic can't hurt me it can only introduce more fans to the original)

[creedslove]

BETRAYED - PART ONE

Pedro Pascal x f!reader

Summary: Pedro invites you to be his plus one for the night but his attention is caught by another woman and leaves you with a broken heart

Warnings: angst, age gap, established friendship, unrequited love/one sided feelings, Pedro being kind of a dick, drinking

1.2k words

PART TWO is here

You bit your lips when you saw your own reflection in the mirror, twirling softly as you analyzed yourself in the high couture dress the stylish team had picked exactly for you. After weeks of insistence, Pedro finally convinced you to be his plus one in an event. You'd been close for a long time and you always made sure to support him, attending events and premieres with special invitations he gave you, but never walking down the red carpet. You both knew it would just send everybody the wrong idea, and as his popularity was really high, you all agreed it wouldn't be a great idea to spark rumors and gossip, especially at how private he'd always been about his personal life.

However, after all the support you gave him, Pedro knew you deserved some of the glamour he was living and without exposing you to the media and all the lack of privacy that could lead, he picked a smaller event, a magazine cocktail ou gala, something like that, you weren't so sure. One there wouldn't be a red carpet per se, but rather a gala with a real nice dinner for the guests and a nice party to enjoy afterwards. There would be photographers, sure, but once inside, there was no way to point fingers at whoever was each other's plus ones.

The man really wanted you to have the whole experience, so he required his team of stylists to treat you like a real princess. He knew you deserved it, not only for the friendship you two had, but also as a way of trying to forget the guilt he felt every time he thought of how he probably broke your heart.

Pedro wasn't blind, ever since you became really close friends, he knew the affection, the words and the actions you had towards him meant something else, but he always chose to pretend not to notice, after all, no matter how incredible you were, he didn't feel the same. Yes, you were gorgeous, you were smart and amazing, but he just didn't feel that sparkle, and the fact you were a lot younger than he was didn't count on your relationship's favor. He was able to act as if he didn't know your feelings for him grew each passing day, until you being a lot braver than he could ever be, decided to come clean and open up about how you really felt. He hated himself for being honest and telling you in the best way he could find your feelings were one sided. It took you a couple of weeks to let it sink until you were able to act normal around him again. You loved Pedro and you would rather be around him as only friends, keeping your hopes high than being away from him. It wasn't healthy, but that was the way. Pedro also got relieved when he saw he didn't lose you, just because he didn't love you romantically, it didn't mean he didn't love you as a friend and cherished your friendship.

Once you were ready, he knocked on the door and walked in, smiling big at the sight of you in your pretty dress and took a step closer

"You're gorgeous Y/N… a real princesa"

he said in his accent which made you blush. You also took a look at him up and down and nodded, approving the look that was picked for him

"You look great as well, Pedrito" you smiled at him, though the butterflies in your stomach never stopped, no matter how hard you tried to pretend they did.

He offered you his arm and both went to the car together.

The event went smoothly, way better than you anticipated, there was no red carpet and though the photographers snapped pictures of him, no one bothered you. You didn't pay much attention to the theme of the gala and nor the speeches delivered, you paid attention to Pedro and how well he got along with people, always friendly and bringing smiles to everybody's face when he was around.

By the time the party was going on, the music was loud, people were dancing and you and Pedro were not sparing any drinks from the open bar, it was your turn to leave the dance floor and get yourselves another drink, so you interrupted your dance and smiled at him before going to the bar. You sighed at the amount of people in front of you and had no other choice but to stand in line to pick your beverages. You knew you'd take a while to return, but once you had the two glasses in hand you didn't expect to see him dance with another woman. Hell, you didn't expect to see him dance like that with another woman. Her body was glued to his and it was obvious to everyone they were just humping each other than doing dance steps. His hand was on her hips as she moved against his body, leaving no space between them. You stopped dead on tracks, watching the grotesque scene, as a hole formed in your chest. There wasn't any other word that could describe it better. At the first sight it was an intense pang, jealousy, sadness and anger heated up your body and raced your heart, but then, no matter how you didn't want to watch the scene, you also felt unable to look away, you became numb. There was just an emptiness inside of your heart and then you were able to turn your back to them and head back for the table.

It took all your willpower not to cry, but you wouldn't give him or anyone the taste of shedding tears over that, let alone in a room full of people you didn't know. You just finished the two drinks and remained in silence, wondering if you should just go home or drink more.

You were about to head for the bar another time when Pedro rushed to you, he was panting and smiled at you clueless, there was a soft flush on his cheeks and he held his suit jacket strategically on front of his lap, probably hiding the tent he got there.

"Hey, Y/N… honey, listen, I told you I'd take you home but something came up…" he scratched the back of his head "so if it's alright if you, maybe you can go home on your own? Text me when you get there so I know you arrived safely, okay? We'll talk tomorrow" he said in a rush and left a quick peck on your cheek, before turning your back to you and walking to the woman he was dancing with, taking her by the hand and quickly disappearing out of the door.

Only when your Uber arrived, you finally allowed yourself to let those tears fall, not even when he straight up told you to your face he didn't love you back, you felt as rejected and humiliated as that night. You hated that woman without even knowing her and you hated him for doing that to you.

In the early morning, Pedro left you a text asking if you'd arrived home safely, to which you didn't reply, you just silenced your phone and tried going back to sleep, so you'd forget about everything that happened.

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A/N: I hope you liked it!!!

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal headcanons #pedro pascal headcanon #pedro pascal smut #actors #male actors

[jeanbie]

IF I LAY HERE (WOULD YOU LIE WITH ME?) ★ masterlist.

pairing: eren x reader

genre: best friends-to-lovers-au, actor au, fluff mostly | warnings: fem!reader | wc: 2.6k

note: hey. i still love u guys and i am still pining over aot. will never stop probably. anyway, this was an older fic i wrote but i'm handing it down to eren! title is taken/inspired from chasing cars by snow patrol (my fav song)

⏤ Eren has had enough - it's been four months since he's last seen you, and he's not going to let his fame status keep him from seeing you any longer. He just hopes that you feel the same way when you see him again.

Eren was taking a pretty big risk, he knew that.

It was risky taking any step out of his apartment at any moment; he’d think he was safe until he made it to the end of the road, earphones snug in his ears, and the flash of a camera behind the bushes in the corner of his eye blinds him back to his front door in a twisted shame. 

Granted, he’d expected it to be worse now that he'd booked a plane ticket and made a rather hasty, in-the-moment journey to the airport and on a plane with no layover. Usually when Eren takes a journey overseas, there’s at least one or two fans hiding in the corner of the suites waiting for him, or someone on the plane who’d recognise his face.

For this, he’d suck it up and take a photo. It was better to have good PR and be a little bit pissed off that he’d been discovered, than to have bad PR and to be known as the actor from Attack on Titan who didn’t give a damn about the people who essentially made him and his friends famous.

But Eren thought the risk was worth it this time. The plane touched down in a different country, and from there, it was an hour long train journey to a station he didn’t know anything about to meet a friend of yours he’d only seen in Instagram pictures.

You were at university now, a face he saw on a screen rather than a face he quite literally saw every day months before. It had been four months since Eren had seen his best friend, and fuck anybody who was going to make him wait a second longer before seeing you again.

You were his greatest risk, but it was worth it. You were worth it.

“Fuck, it’s insane to actually be meeting you right now.”

Frank is a good guy, ginger with circle glasses resting on the end of his roundish nose. He led Eren out of the train station, offering to pull his suitcase for him. “I mean, I’m a huge fan.” Followed by a sigh and a quiet, “Who isn’t…?”

Eren smiled at him, squinting in the sun as it hit his eyes in the direction of Frank’s face. “Thanks. I hear a lot about you, too.”

Frank grinned, whipping his head towards Eren. “All sexy and scandalous things, I hope. You know, none of us believed Y/N when she said she knew you. We thought the pictures were Photoshopped, you know how she is.” They both paused by the side of the road waiting to cross, “Shit, she’s gonna freak out when she sees you.”

That was three minutes ago, but Eren's still playing that sentence on a loop in his head. She's gonna freak out when she sees you.

He walks alongside Frank down one of the streets, past a redundant furniture store that quirks his brows. He’s missed it here, and how unbelievably, shockingly awful it all looks when you’re not looking at picturesque photos of it online.

“I thought you’d know that Y/N’s my best friend,” Eren says thoughtfully. He pauses as Frank does as a car zooms past when they’re about to cross. “I mean, people know. The photos got leaked, all of them.”

“Hey, give me a break,” Frank says dramatically. “I only really became a super fan three months ago. I'm more into Levi, you know how it goes. And yeah, I figured it out eventually. Finally, I understood why so many people at this uni wanted photographs with her and to be her best friend…”

Eren frowns. “Is it bad? She doesn’t tell me this stuff on the phone. I mean, they go crazy online when she posts pictures and we interact, but I didn’t…”

Frank shakes his head and grins at Eren as the words die out in his mouth.

“Nah, don’t panic. It’s not that bad. If anything, she might get a kick out of the fame. Trust, there’s always gonna be the girls who hate her because she’s friends with you and that’s like, what, threatening to their fantasy? But she loves you a lot, and a friendship like yours…it’s kinda like family, you know?”

Eren feels his stomach flip, butterflies going haywire. These butterflies are bitter and relentlessly fast, his heart racing that extra bit quicker. He likes the sound of family. He doesn’t like the way Frank implies it, because if Eren is ever going to consider you as family, it won’t be as his sister.

You’ve never been his sister, even when you became part of his family growing up on special occasions, or even just on a daily basis when you came to visit. There were times his family called you their own, but you were never his sister. It was different than that; you both knew it but never dared acknowledge it.

Frank makes small talk until they make it to the student accomodation you currently live at, and because Frank knows basically everybody, a student comes to the gate to let them both in. They’re nice and tall, wearing an Aston Villa shirt that Eren remembers looks a lot like your dad’s back in the day. Might be the same kind, might be a vintage.

He smiles at him, because maybe this guy knows Eren, but then the guy just turns back into the common room and doesn’t come out again. Frank doesn’t live here - he lives in a flat of his own around the corner, but Frank might as well be a resident here. He lets himself in towards the lift and shoots a text to one of your flatmates.

“Apparently she’s in the shower,” Frank says casually. He locks his phone, taps his foot as the lift rises, “Let’s hope she doesn’t stride out completely stark naked as you’re in there.”

He almost blushes, “Ha, yeah.”

He declines to mention the times you two have showered together, the time you went skinny dipping together when you were seventeen. Those were things that might end up getting misunderstood, and those are his memories he’d like to keep a secret. He says nothing, nothing but a thank you when he enters your flat with Frank and takes a different turn to the left whereas Frank goes right, towards the kitchen.

Your room is at the very end, your name on the door in stickers from a set you got from the market, and from inside, he hears the music in the bathroom. The door opens silently and closes with the same volume, and Eren manages to wheel his suitcase to the end of the bed and plonks himself down.

As expected from pixels on the screen, your room looks better in person - white walls and a bed set that’s white and covered with little peonies. Above your desk, Eren recognises all your photos together, new polaroids of you and the friends you’ve made at university who Eren always felt kind of threatened by. He smiles to himself, and rests his head against the wall your bed is attached to. From here, he can see the bathroom door in the mirror on the opposite wall, but he knows you’ll only see his feet when you come out.

Speaking of which; the song playing in the bathroom ends suddenly and the shower water has stopped running. Eren hears the toilet flush and his heart starts to race.

Four months of falling asleep on Facetime and texting when there was no time left in the day, and now, here he is, on your bed, waiting for you to step out and… And, then what?

Maybe you wouldn't even want him here. Maybe you were happier now that Eren was travelling the world with his other friends and film crew while you were still here, in a new city with new friends and a new life. Maybe the memory of Eren was burdensome to you. Worse - maybe he was something you felt you had to remember but didn’t really want to.

Eren's always been scared of the rejection he might receive from you. He might be a dream for fans across the world, but there’s a split second where Eren feels like he might not be good enough for you. He’s the world to other people. But you deserve the whole galaxy, and he’s afraid that’s something that he might not ever be able to give you, even with all the money and the fame.

The bathroom door opens and in two seconds, the light is shut off and he hears you sigh.

“Jesus, Frank, you gotta stop letting yourself in here without telling me,” your voice says. “Good thing I’m semi-decent. Usually I’m not.”

“No fun,” Eren teases, and silence follows. There’s a pause, and Eren cocks his head, his left cheek on his shoulder, waiting for you to click and appear in front of him.

Suddenly, he hears small but quick thuds across the carpet and Eren feels his chest tighten with a nostalgic feeling when you come into view with wide eyes, damp hair and nothing but a bra and those stupid black worn leggings you refuse to throw out.

The grin that reaches Eren's eyes now aches as he laughs at you, at the way you gape at his presence. It takes a moment, a moment of what feels like could be the rejection that Eren absolutely fears, but then you smile so wide that Eren feels it in his stomach.

“Holy shit!” you exclaim loudly, bringing a hand to your mouth as you hurry towards the bed. It dips beneath your knees and Eren rises up to a more comfortable position. “What the fuck!”

He laughs out loud, and when Eren wastes zero time in bringing you into his arms, hugging you tightly.

“Careful, my hair’s all wet,” you squeak.

“Don’t care.”

He really doesn’t. There’s probably going to be a damp spot on his clothes after, but that’s okay. You groan loudly with happiness as you hug him in return as tightly as he is hugging you, your weight on his lap and your arms around his neck.

Eren smiles so wide, sighing with content into your neck. Here, he smells the marshmallow body wash on your skin, the fragrance of your hair that kind of reminds him of Cabbage Patch babies.

“You smell good,” he mutters. You laugh quietly, squirming when his nose sniffs across your neck like one would kiss. “I don’t.”

“You do, you always smell good,” you reply. One sniff, he laughs, “See!”

“Mmm,” he plays along, “the sweet smell of planes and trains and jet lag.”

That makes you laugh, and at the mention of jet lag, Eren realises he could probably fall asleep like this given the chance. He has missed this, missed you, so fucking much. The emotions are overwhelming. 

Eren kisses behind your earlobe, and then just underneath your jaw. That’s new. Eren was always a cheek-kiss kind of best friend, but never this.

You’re not complaining. Your head drops to one side, almost giving him more access to the space free, and he occupies it. Those fucking butterflies; Eren feels sick with nerves as he kisses you, under your chin and across your neck, on that spot on your collarbone you found out tickled after Seven Minutes in Heaven in Year 8.

Maybe your fingernails in his hair are a way of you telling him to stop - it’s something he can think about tonight if he can’t fall asleep, something he doesn’t care to think about when he kisses on your actual jawline, to your cheek and the corner of your mouth, your cupid’s bow.

He moves away with a blush that matches your own, but maybe you can’t see his in the colour of your fairy lights. He plays with the dazed confusion on your face as he moves the hair from across your face to around your ears, smiling and raising his eyebrows.

“Your hair is so fucking wet,” he sniggers boyishly.

“I told you,” you shrug. You shrink, relaxed, “Fuck, why are you here? I mean, I’m literally so happy, but… Are you gonna get in trouble for this?”

“I dunno,” he admits. “Maybe, probably. I mean…the guys know I’m here. Jean drove me to the airport with Armin.”

“That’s not what I mean, though.”

Eren sighs loudly. “Yeah, I know. Frank told me all about the girls.”

“Little fucker. Is he here? I’ll punch him for mentioning it to you. It’s honestly fine. It's only a few. Most are really nice!”

“You’re my best friend for life, it’s important to me that you’re not uncomfortable by--”

“I’m not,” you assure him, hands trapped in his hair. You frown and try to change the subject, “Damn, this got long. Didn’t look long over the phone.”

“I've been growing it out,” Eren replies. “Heard you fancied Keanu Reeves, couldn’t handle the competition.”

“Ha!” you retort. “Simp.”

“For you,” frowns Eren dramatically.

Conversation fizzles comfortably, to the point where you both forget that Eren's underneath you and your legs are wrapped like a koala around his middle.

The fact that this is normality for you both is ignored. You’ve done worse things together. Eren even knows that the bra you’re wearing now is one he bought for you, half as a joke, half not. That could be why Eren feels the way that he does, why the confusion wraps around his body and traps him.

Eren knows that the butterflies in his stomach don’t just appear because you’re his best friend he hasn’t seen in a while. He knows what they mean when they flutter when your name pops up when you’re calling him, when an interviewer tries to catch him out by bringing you up in another interview that you don’t need to be mentioned in.

Eren knows that coming here was worth the confusion, and the nerves, and the fact that this will be a headline when it gets out. EREN YEAGER GOES TO VISIT HIS BEST FRIEND…BUT ARE THEY MORE? Or worse, NETIZENS HAVE PROOF THAT A.O.T EREN IS DATING HIS BEST FRIEND Y/N…

He doesn’t want to hurt you. That’s why he feels scared. For you to be scandalised by an article online that caught him out in his feelings, he knew it wasn’t fair. Eren might be too afraid to say he’s in love, and too afraid to find out if you feel it too, if all those years of confused relations and flirtations meant anything, but he’d risk those feelings and the headlines if it meant being able to spend one more day with you.

Eren's got a week and a half with you. Something’s gotta give within this week. He doesn’t want to go back to filming with more regrets than he came here with, and so for now, he’ll just have to swallow those butterflies back down when they pour out of his mouth.

Right now, he can’t afford to be caught out. It has to be said on his own terms, when the timing is perfect. It has to be perfect, because it’s what you deserve. It has to be perfect, because if it isn’t, then Eren doesn’t think it will be worth it.

Losing you to a headline and a butterfly is out of the question. You hop off him and shrug on a jumper from out of your wardrobe. If you noticed his unease, then you didn’t mention it. He almost wants to cry, wants the confusion to go away for the night so he can enjoy being here.

Fuck.

For now, he thinks as he follows you with an arm around your shoulders out of your bedroom and towards the kitchen to meet the others, he’ll just have to fake it 'til he makes it. Just like always. Put on a face, put on a show, until it all feels worth the spillage. He can’t let the butterflies escape yet.

It has to be perfect, and until then, he’ll just have to be patient, even if it breaks his heart more by pretending.

#eren #eren yeager #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger #eren x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren fluff #attack on titan #aot #eren fanfic #aot fanfic #attack on titan fanfic #snk #shingeki no kyojin #aot imagine #snk imagine #ittojean #eren actor au #aot actor au #jeanbie

[sstan-hoe]

𝑷𝒂𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒛𝒛𝒊

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — actor!aemond targaryen × fem!reader

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — life with aemond is always risky...but not just because of his status in society. No, more because he likes doing risky activities...

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 — smut, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, getting caught, public sex

𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 — well, what more can I say besides the fact, that the new trailers awaked something in me? Team black forever, I'll just take aemond as a prisoner

A happy sigh left your mouth as you leaned your back against Aemond while his fingertips graced along your arms.

He had found a cinema with the opportunity to watch a movie while laying comfortably in your seat and god was it amazing.

And another plus point, the cinema was rather outside the city and as a result not as crowded, meaning no paparazzi or fans were around.

You and Aemond were in the last row, giving your man enough privacy to trail his hand from your arm down to your sweats. “Aemond!” You whisper-shouted trying to slap his hand away but instead he gripped your wrist with his free hand, caging you in between his arms.

“Come on love, live a little…” He chuckled, his lips lightly gazing your cheek.

You rolled your eyes at his words, Aemond lived for those risky sex moments. While you did enjoy them, you often come too close to getting caught.

“Aemond, we almost got caught last time!” You complained as his finger slipped into your panties, and that gods forsaken pussy of your betrayed you once again by getting wet just from his voice.

“Quite a tone you have there...you are really serious huh?” He asked with amusement dripping from his voice.

“You’re soaked for me, my little whore is turned on by getting caught,” Aemond drags his fingers through your folds, rubbing your clit gently. A whimper left your lips as he put pressure into his movements.

Suddenly a white light filled the cinema and it surly wasn’t the movie.

Aemond looked around, his eye scanned his right side and locked with the ones of a paparazzi. The actors face was filled with rage, he pulled his hand away from you and gently pushed you to the side.

“What the actual fuck man? How much of a perv do you have to be, taking a photo of my girl and I? You better get your ass out of here before you don't feel your face anymore, sick fuck!” He yelled at the paparazzi who scrambled out of the theatre.

“Come on, we’re leaving and tomorrow we will go to the police, and I will call my agent.” Aemond promised you softly, taking your hand to help you stand up.

Tears threatened to leave your eyes as you walked out of the cinema. A crowd of paparazzi were waiting outside, all of them making photos of Aemond and you. “Shut those fucking cameras off!” the blonde snapped at one of them who held the camera close to your face.

You could hear them ask questions, but you didn’t know what they said, too focused on getting out of there.

When you were finally inside the car you took a deep breath, though your exhaling was shaky. Aemind grabbed your hand giving it a gently squeeze before starting the engine, “we will be home any second love, I promise,” he whispered while stroking the back of your hand with his thumb.

You nodded at him to let him know that you were listening. He always wanted to here you say that you were with him in situations like this, however at the moment was all you could offer him.

The car came to a stop in front of your apartment, Aemond walked over to your side and opened the door for you helping you out of the car. “I’m gonna make you a hot chocolate, how does that sound?”

His thumb graced over your cheekbone as he smiled at you. You didn’t answer his question, instead you slowly realized what happened. “They saw us…that man took a photo of us, while you had you hand in my pants…oh god they caught us! What are we going to do?”

“Tomorrow I will go to the police, make an indication, call my agent and we will sue them yeah?”

“But what if they use it against us? I don’t believe it's allowed to do that,” your eyes were filled with fright as your mind imagined all the possibilities, on how this could be used against you.

“Maybe, but what that man did was far worse than our little adventure and even if they use it against us do you know how many people are on our side? Aegon, Rhaenyra, Daemon, Haelena and those were only a few!” He tried to reassure. You wanted to believe him so bad but a voice in your head told you the oppisite.

“And they won’t think I’m a…slut?” “Oh, god my love no! You are not a slut, it was my fault we got caught, okay? I made you do this, it's all my fault.”

His large rough, but gentle hands cupped your cheeks as the tears you tried to hold back streamed down your face. Aemond lead you to the couch and brought a tissue up to your cheeks, drying your tears.

“It's you and me against the world, yeah? We did that and it was okay, you are not a slut, and that man is a sick perv who will get at least liberty punishment and with our lawyer he will end up in prison.”

The tears slowly stopped, your vision was still blurry, but you could make out how Aemond looked at you, with so much love and care. “I love you and I’m sorry we got caught my beautiful girl,” he whispered against your lips.

“I love you too,” you replied sealing your lips in a soft, slow kiss that was filled with passion.

“I’m going to make sure that paparazzi gets what he deserves,” Aemond promised you as he carefully pulled away from your soft lips, giving you one last kiss before he stood up.

“Hot chocolate?” “With marsh-“ “Marshmallows I know,” he gave you a cute smile before vanishing in the kitchen.

He knew that by tomorrow the whole internet would be flooded with the picture, but with you by his side he knew that he could go through hell and back, with smile as if you just told him, you loved him.

#prince aemond #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen au #actor!aemond #actor au #my one eyed prince 💫🐲 #aemond targaryen fluff #aemond targaryen fanfic

[rosewaterandivy]

girl crush

Summary: there’s more than two beds, but of course you sleep in his.

W.C.: 2.5k

Warnings: y’all know me - it’ll be the usual! Smut, idolatry, devotion, unprotected sex (wrap it up!), pussy drunk Steve— I don’t make the rules 😤‼️

a/n: aka your first time with Steve, who may or may not be your boyfriend?

🎶 I’ve got a girl crush, I don’t get no sleep, I don’t get no peace, thinkin’ bout her 🎶

“Wish I could babe,” his voice sounds distant over the phone, wind whipping every other word through the mic, “But we just started production out here, we won’t wrap for a while yet.” You’d caught him during a break in filming, miraculously.

Several dates in LA after an introduction from Eddie, and here you are trying (and failing) to plan another. He’s back in California after a press tour and you were fresh off of recording your latest album.

“Well,” you drawl out, “I could come to you?” The question is rushed, breathless, you screw your eyes close in fear of fucking it all up.

A pause.

“You sure?”

“S’easier than dealing with your schedule, Harrington,” you say lightly, “Palm Springs is doable enough.”

He’s working on some indie picture out in the desert, you were murky on the details. You hear shuffling from his end and ‘psst’s trying to get someone’s attention.

“Rob… Rob! Can you– yeah, the address?”

A moment later your phone dings with a notification.

“So,” you say, throwing clothes haphazardly into a bag, “What’ve you got planned for us?”

Three or so hours later finds you in the desert and absolutely ecstatic about it. Dressed down in cut-offs and an old merch tank–or, as dressed down as you could get–you breathe in deep, thankful to be out of LA. Little to no paps and tabloids to be worried about–or worse, Deuxmoi acolytes–so you could finally relax.

Steve met you out front with the fattest joint you’d seen in years, he nearly dropped it when you all but tackled him to the ground. You were so happy to be with him again.

“Little soon to be proposing, no?”

“Think I’d do better than some hydro from Arglye,” he grouses, but you take it from him anyway with a deep inhale, “Says ‘hi’ by the way.”

“Tell him I accept and we’re registered at Tiffany’s,” you say finally, exhaling slowly.

He rolls his eyes, “Okay, Material Girl,” he helps to hoist you back up, “Tour time.”

After the grand tour, which was impressive–“Holy shit, do you have Robin on retainer? ‘Cause if not...”--Steve entertained you in the kitchen, making what he called the ‘secret sauce.’

“Oh, that?” you scoff, pouring some wine, “Had that on date number two, if you’ll recall.” You take a sip and continue with a waggle of your brows, “My compliments to the chef, as ever.”

Steve blushes at that, recalling how pretty you had looked with your glossed lips around his cock, all warm and soft under the dim light from the setting sun. A groan rumbles from his chest as he braces himself against the countertop, knuckles turning white.

“You’re a menace,” he said, voice low and gravelly, before he turned his attention back to the pots and pans on the stove.

You shrug and drink some wine, savoring the crisp tart taste against your tongue. Steve flits from one spot to the next while he cooks, stirring the sauce one moment and blanching veggies the next; all the while, remaining loose enough to pour a second glass of wine for you and another for himself.

Infuriatingly attractive that.

The sun had gone down in the desert while Steve finished with the pasta. You’d assigned yourself the task of setting the table and doing the dishes after dinner. Plates and cutlery arranged, you helped yourself to some salad while Steve served the pasta.

You mouth had already been watering at the mere scent of whatever was bubbling away on the stove, and all it took was one bite to have you audibly moaning at the dinner table. His eyes met yours, mischievous and curious, as he sipped his wine.

“Fuck me, that’s good,” you say with closed eyes, savoring the taste.

Steve laughs quietly across the table.

Dinner goes on, you try to reign in your vocal appreciation of the meal. He fills you in on some details of the shoot, set gossip, and the like. You offer up the scant information you have about the upcoming tour and album release. Clearing the table is easy enough between the two of you, knocking hips every so often as you washed and he dried the dishes.

You ended up in his bedroom, collecting the duffle you’d packed from the guest room down the hall. It was a kind thought, that you would opt for a separate room and your own space; he was hesitant like that, never wanting to assume.

Electing to change in the ensuite bathroom, you step out of the denim cutoffs and fold them neatly on the counter. Shoes had been kicked off at the front door earlier in the evening, leaving you now in an ancient Corroded Coffin shirt that had seen better days. He’s sat on the bed, looking all soft and sweet–tousled hair and wire rimmed glasses framing his face nicely, skin flushed from the wine.

He bit his lip when he saw you come out, hair a mess and legs, legs, legs, but a vision nevertheless. He can’t help himself as you step between his splayed knees at the edge of the bed, his hands coming to rest against he curve of your hips.

“Hey honey,” he murmurs as your arms wrap around his neck.

“Hey Steve,” you greet in return, lips pulled tight in an embarrassed smile.

Gently, he tugs you closer to him, the fabric of the shirt rucking up against your skin. His finger skirts against the back of your thigh, the skin shivering involuntarily. “Missed you,” he says, voice raspy and low.

His soft gaze lingers on you, warm hazel eyes looking up through long lashes. “Missed you too,” you say quietly.

“Yeah?” he asks, fingers grasping at the flare of your hips before he leans back on the bed, “C’mere then.”

As you clamber onto the bed, he lays back against the cool cotton of the duvet pulling you down with him. Substantively seated in his lap, you rest your head against his chest and let out a sigh.

“Comfy?” he says, a hand trailing lazily up and down your back. You nod, fingering the fabric of the shirt between your fingers. Softened by time and wear, paint and lettering disintegrating each time you wore it. It smells comforting like you–cardamom and sandalwood with a hint of something boozy–smells like home.

“I’ll keep you close then.”

His other arms falls against your hips while he continues to trace shapes against your back. You feel his lips leave at the crown of your head before his head falls back against the mattress. It’s quiet and he can tell from the rhythm of your breathing that you’re a few minutes from falling asleep.

The nation’s favorite spitfire in his bed, face nuzzled into his chest, bit by bit chiseling your way into his heart.

Steve lets his teeth worry his bottom lip, willing his nerves not to get the best of him. “Y’know, I really like you.”

“Mmm,” your drowsy moan comforting, the lazy smile tugging at your lips setting off the butterflies in his stomach. “I really like you too.”

Fuck, he hadn’t been this nervous in a while. And yeah, you’d been seeing each other for a minute but not long enough to have the ‘what are we’ conversation.

His hand tangles in your hair, loose and windswept from the drive, fingers scratching lightly at your scalp. A muffled moan pours from your lips and vibrates his chest.

“Sorry, sorry” you slur sleepily, “M’not normally such a lightweight.”

Steve, for his part, doesn’t think anything of it. You’d had, what, one glass of wine at dinner— maybe two? But you could be tired from the drive.

Maybe he’s misreading this thing entirely. A brief flicker of panic licks up his spine; maybe it’s too soon, maybe you just want to sleep—

“Can hear you thinkin’ up there,” you mumble and pull him from his downward spiral. A brief movement as you settle your chin to his chest and glance up. Your eyes are half-lidded and sultry, lips pulled in an enticing fashion.

He grunts when you shift your weight until you’re practically sitting on his chest to keep him breathless. He’s smiling up toward the ceiling, one side of his lips curled upward, jaw slack, easy and yielding because Steve offers himself to everything like this: headfirst and wide-open.

It’s be infuriating if he wasn’t crashing headlong toward you. It’d be irritating if he wasn’t so damn earnest about it.

After a while of feeling out each other's atmosphere, eyes catching every so often before flitting away to focus on something else, Steve arches up to request a kiss, all warmth and need.

You lean down to touch your lips to his gently, brushing your nose with his along the way— a wholly delicate gesture he never would’ve expected from you, but has grown to adore.

“We can go slow,” you breathe against his lips. “Don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

Steve’s stomach swoops. He reaches up to cradle the back of your neck, drawing your forehead to his. “That so?”

You're smiling— so big and beautiful it hurts. And his heart is so loud he thinks you must hear it.

The kiss was clumsy, you chalked it up to too much drink, but the touch of your lips to his burned down his throat, like whiskey and joy— warm and smooth and cataclysmic as his hand cupped your face. You kiss him and Steve hears himself sighing into your mouth. His cheeks flush in excitement because you’re not letting go, so he presses his lips to yours a little slower, a little firmer, learning all the ways you like to feel him there.

“Steve,” you breathe, and it lights him up. “Steve,” you say again, and his eyes slip shut. Even now, he’s crushed with longing.

You press the heat of your core into his groin, grinding your hips into his.  

When your tongue touches him again, he thinks he might go blind. His eyes flutter open as much as they can, to savor the moment of your face so close to his. Your eyes, shut. Your skin, flushed. Your hair, a silky, folded curtain against his chest.

You are straddling Steve’s thigh now, sitting on your knees and moving against his thick limb in slow orbits. The underwear sitting against your hips is still there but does nothing to keep the slickness between your legs at bay. His thigh is moist from it, and it catches a shine in the fading light.

“Need you, baby,” you plead. “Any way you want.”

You glow like a full moon in the night, divining his animal desires with phosphorescent eyes.

Too eager now with permission. Too eager now with the fiercest kind of lust—of love—he lets it go. All for you, and you all for him. He nips at your collar, drowning deeper and deeper. Fingers meandering to hook into the gauzy and damp fabric hiding you from him and pulls. Wants you bare and shuddering beneath him. Hip bones against hip bones, the noises you make—ragged and hoarse—sending tremors down his back.

Steve grips your waist and moves you from his leg. A whimper escapes before it turns into a gasp as he turns you around, back meeting the cool of the sheets. “You call it, sweetheart.” Comes his husky voice in your ear. You know he means it completely.

A moan slips forth when he dives into the back of your shirt and tears it off, does the same with his. He wants to hear that noise again. The two of you are entwined like real lovers, pulling apart only to breathe and whisper to each other.

He falls onto his forearms, touching foreheads together, noses together, lips hovering until you meet him in a sloppy half-kiss, tongue slipping over his, spit and sweat shimmering across your mouth.

Steve doesn’t bother taking his boxer-briefs off completely, crumpling them down just below his cock is enough for him to slide in like he was created for you. He tells you as much, as you whimper and cry out beneath him.

“Look at me,” He prompts, tilting your face so you see where he’s connected to you. He’s searing hot as he thrusts upwards. “You were made for this.” He’s delirious with it, the heavy thrum that flows through the union of your bodies, “You were made for me.”

Like a prayer, he repeats your name.

Inside of that deafening miasma, Steve is still awake and a part of him knows that this is what he’d been longing for. His cock is throbbing inside of you and every time he pulls out and thrusts back in, your cunt wipes any shred of doubt from his mind.

Your head tips backwards and he catches the base of your skull in one giant hand. “So good,” you praise, “You’re so good, Steve.”

God, he’s so hard. Cramming himself inside your body, torso to torso, as close as he can get because he needs it—he needs it so bad.

He’s blind with it, drunk off it, beginning to rut like he’s in heat, surprised at the confessions he burns into your neck g’na marry you, fuck— that have you gasping and clenching in equal measure. Catalogues and litanies of honey, baby, fuckfuckfuck, god—growling devotions sinking into your throat, your shoulder, your chest. Sucking inscriptions in the common tongue of love as they slip past his lips.

You take all of him again and again, matching his pace, eyes squeezed shut, opening briefly but dazed. Panting and pleading his name, sudden waves of orgasm making you shake and shiver. Then he starts again— easier, kinder, letting the beast work its way back through his skin. Tongue sweeping lines. Canines pulling flesh.

You sigh and smile. A sacred dream of flesh and blood wrapped around him. “Wanna see you, baby,” you say, “Let me see you, sweetheart.”

So he does, blinking through the darkness and finds you like a beacon, as you always are, as you always will be. His hair falls to one side, lighter from the summer sun, suspended and rocking along.

“’S that good? Like this?”

“Yeah. Yes,” he babbles, “Wanna give you everything.”

“Come with me, Steve—come on, baby.”

And it’s all so fast. Your words. His words. Your hands. His hands. Hips moving in heavy thrusts and hair falling over his face and endless moans of god, fuck, 'm gonna come at the last minute before his eyes roll back behind his lids.

Steve buries his face into your neck, groaning. “Mine,” he whispers finally coming back to himself. Raspy and slow and again when you gasp. Your nails dig into his back reflexively, thighs squeezing him tight.

He’s smiling like an idiot because he doesn’t know what else to do about it. His heart is fluttering and filling up. He looked at you for too long, thought about you too hard even though you’re right here and his, and maybe that’s what launched itself into his dizzy head.

A hard kiss that makes you whimper. Mine. Another to the line of your open jaw. Mine. Your throat. Your collar. Your chest. Mine. Mine. Mine.

You smile into his temple, rubbing your cheek on him, too. 

“Keeping me all to yourself?”

He nods eagerly, heart full, then overflowing. “Keeping you forever.”

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fan fiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington smut #modern!actor!steve #fic: hmlhr #Spotify

[sexlapis]

[◉°] …TOJI & Y/N BEING A COUPLE FOR 10 MINUTES STRAIGHT PART 4 … 764k views

—̳͟͞͞♡

ᰋ actor!toji x actor/actress!reader

synopsis: your fans truths delusions about the nature of you & toji’s relationship continues.

a/n: actor!toji is still here guys! ૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა

sfw, fluff, crack, ooc toji, mentions of smoking

masterlists

actor!toji masterlist

part one, two, three

*

ᰋ first clip

“hi guys! welcome to ‘baking with y/n, episode two’!” you yell at the camera, grinning, “and today i will be cooking with…” waving your hands out to the side, you announce your guest, “toji fushiguro! come on toji!”

toji’s big stature strolls into view with his hands in his pockets. he makes the entire kitchen area shrink around him due to his domineering size and overall presence.

“alright, alright..” toji chimes, “not too much now.”

“toji. don’t big yourself up too much. this is still my show,” you smile at his dumb, flabbergasted face and turn your attention back to the viewers, “today, we’ll be making cinnamon rolls! mmhmm!”

meanwhile, toji is tying a too-small apron around his torso, tightening it around is cinched waist. his seemingly intimidating demeanour is nullified by the pink, frilly gingham fabric that graces his body.

“‘don’t happen to have any other aprons, do ya?”

“no, why-” you choked on your own spit when you look at the state of toji - wearing a tiny, delicate apron on his large frame.

“toji, wow…you look so nice…”

“you be quiet.”

ᰋ second clip

as a fashion show attendee, and a significant one at that, you were given some of the best seats in the venue. coincidentally, you are placed right next to your friend, toji fushiguro.

when a member of staff leads you to your seat, you seem surprised and happy to find toji there, smiling broadly. toji’s face cannot be seen in the video, but from the way he stood up to greet and hug you, it appears that he reciprocated your feelings!

you both settle in your seats and before long, the show begins. the models walk by. and more models. and even more models.

before you know it, your eyes grow heavy, your head occasionally dipping and shooting back up again. you seemed so tired…

toji looks at you and rubs your knee, speaking a few words to you. in response, you yawn and nod gently. toji leans in a little, whispering words unheard to onlookers and you in turn. you then rest your head on his big, pillowy shoulder, holding onto his elbow as you try not to fall asleep. he rubs his hand over your smaller ones.

you do end up falling asleep. at the fashion event that you were specially invited to by the designer themselves.

luckily for you, the sweet moment between you and toji overshadowed your sleepy behaviour!

ᰋ third clip

when walking on the red carpet of the season two premier of ‘jujutsu kaisen’, you are dragged around for pictures and interviews and speaking with other actors. but one interview with you and toji has everybody talking.

as you answer the question you have received from the interviewer, toji stands beside and he is…not paying attention to your words per say.

his eyes wander from the top of your perfectly styled hair and down to your sharp tailored clothes that fit on your body so nicely.

toji is not at all subtle as he full on checks you out.

“look at their outfit…” he mumbles, shamelessly interrupting the interviewer who was speaking, just to talk about how good you look.

“yea-yeah! they look great!” the interviewer compliments you, a little thrown off by toji’s interruption.

“so, so beautiful…”

you laugh shyly at toji’s words, brushing down your clothes and looking down at yourself, “toji, are you even listening to the questions?”

“what questions?”

ᰋ fourth clip

you are a famous and respected actor. of course you must do a ‘what’s in my bag’ video with vogue.

after going through a couple of your obscure items, you come across some of the more treasured ones that you carry around with you.

“and this-,” you giggle, holding up a small, soft brown stuffed deer toy in the palm of your hand, “this is the little toy that toji got me! i liked the brand that makes these, so we got a toy that reminded us of one another…and he got me a deer.”

you are asked what toy you got for toji.

“i got toji an angry looking white bear. it suits him.”

later on through the video, you pull out a silver, vintage lighter.

“right. so…toji gave me this lighter too,” you flick it on and off a few times, “i told him i don’t smoke and he just say “you say that now but you’ll feel differently after doing this job for five years”” you cackle loudly at the memory, “…yeah, he’s not exactly wrong about that…”

ᰋ fifth clip

blurry footage emerges of you and toji at the after party of an awards show.

the dance area is filled with people dancing and commotion everywhere, but somehow, a fan noticed you and toji in the corner of the room.

a sensual r&b song plays in the background as you dance imperfectly, in between toji’s spread legs, looking at him and promoting him to join you.

he stares at you and takes a swig of his drink. the tie he wears is loose and his hair ruffled.

as you dance along with the song, toji stands and tames your hand in his, spinning you around and pulling you right against his chest and sways the both of you. toji rests his face on the side of your head and closes his eyes as you laugh at his antics.

that one video confirmed every single suspicion that your fans ever had about you and toji.

*

tag list: @tiredslepz | @hayatslife | @shxyxyxxxx | @snowprincesa1 | @laylasbunbunny | @mimiemie | @ncentic | @rosesored | @imover-18 | @gintokhi | @suzuperstarr | @lostgxrlblog | @jallie10 | @nnsav | @bunnyx-sakura | @bubbabobabubbles | @ladytamayolover | @keiva1000 | @morgyyyyyyy | @studiecoherence | @earth2fae | @ce-namonreads | @ib4ryuguji | @hisjaegerist | @basiloverthyme | @sweet-kiwi | @sayitowshi | @iovemytoru | @thecompletechaosmaster | @sugutoad | @inumakiiz | @uzxotic | @1meshugge1 | @kunikuzushisbeloved

a/n: an actor!toji fic after 2 months. he lives!

#actor!toji #toji x reader #toji x you #toji x y/n #toji x self insert #toji fanfic #toji fluff #toji fushigro x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro x y/n #toji fushiguro x self insert #toji fushiguro fluff #toji x gn!reader #toji zenin x reader #toji zenin x you

[satubby]

◇Yandere Concept◇

•○ 《Ryu Shi-Oh》 ○•

『This is just my own concept but not the general and true view of the character as a yandere, although canonically he may or may not present these... behaviors』

〔Warning ⚠️: This may or may not contain Spoilers for the show in question, please do not read it if you have not yet seen the mentioned K-Drama. In addition, somewhat sensitive topics such as child abuse, drugs, mentions of sex and among others will be included.〕 Postscript: There may or may not be spelling errors, misplaced character pronouns (I'm dyslexic) so I'm sorry for the inconvenience because this was written at night and I was sleepy, and I'm not a fan of English, so this might be bad.

A puppet of the Russian mafia, Ryu Shi-oh is ruthless and unscrupulous. Depending on how you have met him, he will treat you differently. He would most like a Darling who is as lively, positive and almost like the protagonist of the K-drama where he comes from.

》☆ Obsession:

Ryu Shi-oh will take quite a while to trust you, since he has the police and other enemies after his head. However, if you're the gentle type (if you go all in with this yandere, it would be best for both of you), he'll see you as his emotional refuge, the only source of light in his dark life, though that doesn't mean it won't take a little effort for him to be open to you. Despite his yandere tendencies, he feels a desperate need to protect that vulnerable part of himself by sometimes seeming distant (or perhaps he is at first).

Once he is aware of his feelings for you, then things will change (not much but at least he won't always be on guard with you). You will see him as shy, loving (in his own strange way). Of course, he will be somewhat slow in his feelings but VERY loyal once he is sure of them.

》☆ Obsessive Control:

Russian mafia upbringing has instilled in him either consciously or unconsciously, a need for absolute control and even to the point of violence. Ryu Shi-o monitors every move you make (that's only in his facet of having just met you), from his daily interactions to his friendships. Since if it's at the beginning of getting to know you, he wants to make sure there are no betrayals or double-crosses on your part.

On the other hand, if you've known each other for a while, then his vigilance will be more about getting to know you in depth since he is somewhat clumsy in interactions (other than about his work or murder). He will know everything about you, even things you may not even remember. What kind of flowers you like, X item you've been lusting after and so on.

》☆ Dark Gifts:

To express his love, Ryu Shi-oh tends to give you expensive and luxurious things (When he is getting to know you they are more like decoys) But then he gives you things that you might like, as I mentioned in the previous post, but often these carry a hint of double interactions (He stressed, Ryu Shi-oh doesn't trust people much, he has traumas.... Someone get this man some therapy for god's sake!!!).

》☆ Intense Jealousy:

The thought of losing you arouses a fierce rage in Ryu Shi-o. He can become possessive and jealous, going to extreme lengths to keep you tied to his side. His traumatic past contributes to his constant fear of being abandoned or betrayed, he horribly hates lies (This is Canon by the way, he said so himself).

Since he grew up in a precarious and horrible environment, his concepts of love are null to say the least.... he doesn't know anything about the real meaning beyond what is written in books or Google. So when his jealousy is present, he usually lashes out in anger because he doesn't understand or know how to handle his emotions well, that's why he is always stoic and avoids emotional contact with others.

He thinks at the beginning that these emotions are a weakness (because of his upbringing obviously) so you will understand his attitudes and actions at the beginning.

Back to the scenario (depending on whether you work for him or otherwise were Nam Soon's sister, so to speak). However it was, before and after he met you until he gained your trust, his jealousy is powerful and terrifying.

For example, if you deny him or are somewhat alien to his feelings (ahem! Nam soon) then Ryu Shi-oh may or may not threaten those you hold dear or end up killing the subject of his jealousy if provoked enough.

He may or may not send you videos of it, who knows, he's a fucking mafia-bred man.

》☆ Demonstrations of Power:

As CEO of Doogu, Ryu Shi-oh uses his influence and resources to protect you from his enemies, though also to investigate you, but often does so ruthlessly. He uses his position to eliminate any perceived threat (whether real or not, as in the case of being jealous), regardless of the consequences.

When it comes to, for example, demonstrating how happy you could be (excluding that he is a mobster and has a front business for the real thing, drugs) he can afford a whole restaurant for just the two of you or go on trips when he is not busy.

Also when it comes to dealing with you, depending on whether or not you agree to go out with him, he will use his resources. Either way you will end up with him (if you don't want innocent people hurt).

》☆ Hidden Insecurities:

Despite his confident facade, Ryu Shi-o harbors deep insecurities. Fearful that the reader will discover his dark side, he struggles not to show his vulnerability. This can manifest in moments of emotional self-isolation. More common when they are getting to know each other, refusing to accept their emotions more as a passing interest.

When he already falls for you, he refuses to see you leave him for someone else (Or when you don't want more than a friendship) He clings to the feeling you give him or your kindness/courtesy. He has never felt the comfort you give him, you treat him as human and not the tool the Russians used.

》☆ Future plans:

Although his methods are questionable, Ryu Shi-oh looks for love in you. He sees in that relationship an opportunity to find peace and redemption for the sins of his past, even if his actions may be morally ambiguous. He really is a yandere who would give everything for you, though of course after fulfilling his goals.

Since he has experimented on himself, his strength is inhuman and that may or may not lead to use on special occasions... special occasions. Going back to his plans with you,if you behave just by staying out of it, you will have a dream life.... On the other hand, if you are a treacherous liar like Nam Soon (Ryu's own words) Even if he loves and cherishes you, he won't go easy on you.

He will first take it out on your loved ones, then ruining your life until everyone forgets you even exist.... Only then he can stop being angry with you, he is cynical about it.

He will tell you: "But Honey! You did that to yourself... You shouldn't have betrayed me, I gave you everything, I trusted you with my secrets and you were a spoiled whore..... Accept the consequences, only then can we forgive each other."

》☆ Violence as a last resort:

Although he doesn't hesitate to resort to violence towards his subordinates (regarding the real drug business) He never uses it with you as he doesn't want you to see him as someone bad, he tries to keep it as a last resort (We already gave vast examples of which situations can lead him to that) The contradiction between his desire to protect and his ability to be brutal reflects the complexity of his character.

You will always see him as the suave and polite gentleman although distant in his interactions, but as you get to know him better he is just someone traumatized and hurt by his past (He doesn't justify his current actions but he explains why) He never touches a hair on your head if you treat him well (Ryu Shi-oh has the philosophy that his enemies he treats harshly and his allies worse or something similar, what do I know I am just a brat of 18 years old).

》☆ NSFW

》☆ This will be short, but having sex with Ryu Shi-oh is the most sensual thing you could imagine. I won't add much because I need to learn more about the character, well he likes to bite and scratch. He will be slow and very gentle with you when starting this, but when he gets excited like every man he loses his mind and you may or may not end up with whippings or broken bones given his superior strength (literally).

》☆ Ryu loves when you suck his cock or his neck, his favorite parts of your body are those where he can squeeze (female breasts or buttocks). He likes to suck your breasts and play with your neck. His cock is introduced slowly so when you are ready, he gives you everything he has.

》☆ In the end, you will end up tired but satisfied (Unless you have done wrong and Ryu is angry when making love, there it is not smooth and he could even take it out on you due to his jealousy) Afterwards, the care he gives you is soft and sensual, always apologizing for breaking some bones.

In general, having a yandere like him can be a double-edged sword. Ryu Shi-oh can be so kind or cruel depending on your reactions and treatment towards him. It's like swimming on nails, you have to watch where you're going or you'll end up getting hurt.

This is all independent of the K-drama "Nam soon Super Strong Girl" since it is merely my interpretation of this beautiful villain who, from my perspective, didn't deserve so much pain even though he brought it on himself in the end.

[For those anons who asked me for something, I promise that as soon as I get my ideas together I will start writing because I am a mess at this. I could barely do anything right with this yandere concept.]

#nam soon #Nam soon a strong girl #yandere K-drama #k drama #yandere boy #ryu shi oh #my tumblr #yandere x reader #reader insert #my fanfic writing #my blog #yandere headcanons #female reader #yandere x you #byeon woo seok #yandere concept #idol x reader #actor x reader #yandere kpop #kpop x reader #south korea #anime x reader

[jomarch-wannabe]

Good girl (Priest!Tommy x Fem!Reader)

Pairing: Priest Tommy Shelby x Female Reader

Synopsis: Reader confesses her sins, admitting her fantasies about men

Warnings: Smut 🔞(dubcon, implied age gap (reader is over 18), coercion, degradation, swearing, size kink, corruption, oral (m receiving), daddy kink, choking, virginity loss, p in v sex, rough sex, no plot honestly, just porn)

Author's note: Tommy being a priest is an amusing concept considering how far he is from holy, so I wanted to experiment with this idea

——————————————————————————

You cleared your throat, shuffling on the edge of the wooden bench as the masculine voice behind the screen asked once more, “What sins have you committed?”

You took in a heavy breath, searching for the courage to speak. The silence of the booth amplified the thumping of your heart, pounding in your ears.

“I- I’m not a good girl.” Your face burned at the confession. “I only pretend to be.”

“Not a good girl, eh?” He asked curiously, urging you on.

“No.” You stated shortly with a shame in your voice, subconsciously fidgeting your fingers.

“How's that?”

You swallowed thickly, knowing his question was more of a command than an option to answer.

“I.. have impure thoughts.” You admitted, peeling the skin of your fingers as the pressure began to sink in. “Fantasies.. about men.”

“Fantasies?”

“You know, sexual fantasies. I’ve never done anything with a man. I suppose it- it keeps me sane.”

Your eyes watered as heat rose to your cheeks, no doubt a result of the embarrassment creeping up your skin.

“Describe to me your fantasies.” He urged with a low intrigued voice, scarcely hiding his thick Birmingham accent.

Your heart was pounding at the proposition, shaking your small voice, “Um, well I-I imagine an older man, much older, using me.” You took in a breath, eyes flicking in the darkness as you imagined the scenario. “Dominating me.” Your stomach sank with guilt but your body betrayed you, unconsciously squeezing your thighs together.

He hummed in acknowledgment, doing little for your nerves with such an objective response.

“I want a man to fuck me-“ a lump rose in your throat as you imagined the scene playing in your head. Your fingers pulled at the pendant around your neck, searching for air, “Hard.”

A heavy exhale left your lips as you finished, awaiting his response with a dizzying pounding in your head. Through the other side of the booth you could faintly make out a groan.

“Is that all?” You asked, searching the darkness with curious eyes, growing uncomfortable with the silence as you chewed the inside of your lip.

As your eyes shifted in the dark enclosure the curtain in front of you slid open. The metal rings scraped against the pole harshly, causing you to flinch.

A wide and muscular frame came into view, shifting on both feet. As your eyes followed up the man’s torso, a pair of turquoise eyes met yours, staring intensely through his brows.

“Would you like to make that a reality?” He asked with a voice dripping in lust, evidently turned on by the growing tent in his black trousers.

“I-“ you swallowed, shrinking into the wooden bench. “What?” Your head spun with confusion and fear as you replayed his offer.

His lips parted as he began to speak, curling slightly on the end into an amused smirk, “Want to be fucked by an older man?”

The deep baritone of his voice made your cheeks burn. He could sense your neediness. Knew what made you tick. As he inched towards you, you felt increasingly weak under his dominant gaze.

“I- I don’t know how.” You stuttered, heart pounding as your eyes blinked nervously.

“Don’t worry love, I’ll teach ya.” He whispered in a reassuring tone, extending a finger out to trace the side of your cheek.

The contact sent chills down your skin as he explored his finger down, stopping at your chin. The push of his digit tilted your head up with ease, having you completely at his mercy.

With parted lips you watched him, awaiting his next move with fear and intrigue. Heavy footsteps dragged against the floor as he closed the space between you, darkening the already dim space with his wide frame. The proximity wafted his scent towards you, cool, with a musk of cigarettes and whiskey. You enjoyed breathing him in, foreign to the smell of a man.

Your neck craned at his height, submitting to the wanting in his eyes; the desire behind his turquoise orbs.

“How about I fuck that dirty mouth of yours? Hmm?” He hummed in a low, gravely tone, chewing his lip at the thought of taking your innocence.

Your core throbbed with heat as his offer. Imagining him using you. Knowing that even if you wanted to run there was no escape now. You were his.

“Would you like that whore?” He leered, poking the inside of his cheek as he scanned your squirming thighs.

You nodded weakly in his touch, overtaken by lust and anticipation. There was something in the roughness of his voice, an assertiveness that commanded every limb in your body to obey.

“Alright,” he turned his head back, scanning the vacant cathedral. “I’ll show you how it’s done yea?”

With the coast clear he wasted no time lifting his hands from your face, eagerly working his zipper down. The tendons in his fingers twitched with his movements. His hands were large and firm, the thought of them touching you made your stomach sink.

The fabric of his trousers fell softly to the floor with his guidance, followed by his white cotton boxers.

Your eyelids fluttered as you took in a breath, studying his manhood, swollen in need inches from your face. He was thick and long, bigger than you imagined.

The sight of you beneath him made him throb. Your wide, innocent eyes boring into his. The softness of your thighs under your twitching fingers. The cross pendant clutching to your heaving chest. How he wanted his hands around your throat, to see you whimper and cry. To corrupt you. To use you. He couldn’t deny himself the pleasure of fisting his cock a few times, taking you in as he ejected small pearls of precum from his tip.

“Alright,” He groaned in anticipation, backing you into the wall as he inched forward. “Be a good girl and open your mouth for me yea?”

You hesitated for a moment, taking in short breaths as his length stood before of you, before temptation took over, parting your lips slowly, giving him access to your wet entrance.

The rough pads of his fingertips raised goosebumps on the back of your neck as his fisted a hand through your hair. The sensation made you involuntarily whimper.

His self control vanished at your noises, and without hesitation pushed himself into your mouth, the force causing you to gag. He was heavy on your tongue, making you salivate quickly as your lips adjusted around him.

“Christ.” He cursed in pleasure, throwing his head back as your fingers squeezed his muscular thighs.

Instinctively you pulled back, but he had no remorse and tugged at your strands, holding you still for him.

“Don’t fight it love,” he breathed, mouth falling open in pleasure. “You feel so fucking good.” He moaned deeply as he began a steady rhythm, evoking wet gags from your throat.

Your eyes watered as he repeatedly nudged the back of your throat, causing you to moan around his length.

“Good girl- ah- good fucking girl.” He cursed with knit brows, pumping himself in and out of your squelching mouth.

A trail of saliva pooled down your chin at the intrusion, dripping on your chest.

“Fuck I’m close.” He grunted, grabbing hold of your head to pull you closer.

Your nose involuntarily nudged against his trimmed pubic hair as he fucked your face, chasing his release. Your eyes rolled upwards to the contortion in his face, his plump pink sex lips parted and groaning, to the flush in his cheeks. The sight made your thighs clench.

He treated you like an object to be used, paying no mind to your noises as he rapidly bucked his hips, pushing your head back against the wall.

“Fucking hell..” he groaned loudly as he came undone. The thick muscles of his thighs shook under your hands as he climaxed, unloaded ropes of cum into your mouth.

Your eyes squeezed shut as the foreign substance hit your tongue.

“Shit.” He rode out his high with shallow rocking, mouthing incoherent words.

Once satisfied he pulled out, leaving you gasping for air with a string of cum between your parted lips.

The sight alone could make him come again.

With wide watchful eyes you followed his finger as it traced the corner of your mouth, gathering his ejaculation with his thumb. As you caught your breath your lips parted open, granting him the opportunity to push it inside, smearing his cum over your tongue. You moaned at the intrusion, submitting to him with wide eyes as you wrapped your lips around his thumb.

After licking it clean you opened your mouth, freeing his digit with a pop.

“Want me to fuck that cunt of yours next?” He suggested with a cocky smirk, chest rising as he scanned your squirming legs.

“Please.” You begged with a whine, squirming in search of friction.

He took your neediness as an opportunity and grasped your shoulders, easily maneuvering you to the ground. Your breath fanned the cool floor as it made contact with your skin. Impatiently, your head turned back to watch him, but his firm hand intercepted your plans, pinning you down by your upper back.

Your eyes darted in anticipation as his hands raked up your thighs, sending chills down your spine.

“Please..” A desperate moan left your lips, you were throbbing at the thought of him using you, having his weight on top of you.

His hands explored underneath your skirt, hooking a finger in your panties and eagerly shuffling them down your skin. The cool air swept over you at the bareness, exposing your glistening folds.

“Christ.” He swallowed as he thumbed your folds with thick fingers, lustfully exploring your untouched body. “So fucking wet for me love.”

Your eyes rolled back at the contact, reveling in the sensation of fingers that weren’t your own.

“Please fuck me..” you whined against the floor, grinding your hips against his hands as your patience ran out.

Your noises were enough to send him over the edge; with a shaky exhale he lined himself up, pushing into your entrance in one firm thrust.

“Oh fuck!” You squeaked with squinted eyes, digging your nails into the floor as he stretched your clenching walls.

He grunted behind you as you sucked him in, stimulating his already swollen head.

“You’re so big- ah” Your eyes squinted shut at his girth, burning at the unfamiliar pressure.

“It’ll feel good love, be patient.” He spoke against your ear as he leaned down, pressing his chest into your back. The new position made your eyes roll back, stimulating your clit against the floor with his weight. His hand slid on the back of your neck for leverage, squeezing his rough fingers around your pulsing veins. The pressure made you whimper.

He began an eager rhythm, flexing his core against the skin of your back, fanning your ear with heavy breaths. His deep, erotic moans sent shivers down your skin, knowing you were causing them.

“Fuck..” He groaned loudly, lips falling open in pleasure as he rutted in and out of you, coating himself in your arousal.

His force was intense, creating waves of intense pleasure building in your core. Every thrust was powerful and skilled, making your toes curl.

You let out a muffled moan, stifled by the pressure of his hand around your neck.

The vacant cathedral echoed with the sound of his skin slapping against yours, pulling wet squelching noises as your arousal spilled out of you, claiming you.

“Gonna come love..” he panted, sloppily bucking his hips against your ass.

“Please come.. come inside of me..” you whimpered, feeling your walls contract with pleasure as you neared your own climax.

Your desperate noise sent him over the edge. With a loud groan he released inside of you, tightening his hold of your neck as waves of pleasure washed over him.

The feeling of his warm arousal inside of you triggered your own release. Reaching your climax, your body tensed up underneath him, overwhelmed as waves of intense euphoria crashed over you, rendering you speechless, moaning incoherent words.

“Christ.” He sucked in a breath through his teeth, overstimulated by your spasming walls.

“Oh my god..” you moaned, holding onto the feeling with squeezing thighs.

As your breathing leveled he pulled out of you with a slick wet noise, holding himself up with a hand on your lower back. You subconsciously squeezed at the feeling of emptiness, pushing his seed down your folds.

“Holy shit,” he gasped at the sight, admiring you with lust blown pupils. His hold on your neck loosened, granting you air as he grasped your waist, turning you on your back to face him.

Your heart pounded in intimidation as he towered above you, core flexing with his breath. He admired you with dark eyes, glinting with a predatory satisfaction.

The space closed between you as he leaned down, brushing his lips against yours. He took in a breath as he captured your mouth in his, tasting himself on your swollen lips.

You moaned against him, lifting a hand to explore his chiseled jaw shifting against your fingers.

Your chest rose as you submitted to him, colliding your tongue against his, so close you were breathing the same air.

His mouth shifted around yours, releasing your tongue and peppering small kisses against your lips.

Once satisfied he pulled back, licking his lips before whispering, “Better tell me about your fantasies more eh?”

“Mhmm..” you nodded with wide doe eyes, pulling your bottom lip into your teeth.

#thomas shelby #tommy shelby #cillian murphy #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #peaky blinders #tommy shelby fanfic #thomas shelby fanfiction #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby angst #fan fiction #x reader #x you #x you smut #daddy issues #oldermen #irish men #irish actors #peaky fookin blinders #bbc #netflix

[the-kr8tor]

First time request!

Hobie reading thirst tweets on buzz feed 🙊

Why did this idea randomly 💭into my head? IDK DONT ASK

Thank you for requesting! 😘😘

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing) Famous AU/ Band AU (?) Actor AU, CW suggestive, Fluff.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

“‘I wanna live in his knickers’ alright, how would you fit inside though?” You laugh loudly as Hobie reads a comment printed on a tiny slip of paper. “Think of the logistics, love” you guffaw, the sound echoing in the studio, you kind of feel bad for the audio people in the back.

You choke on your own spit from laughing so much, Hobie pats your back gently while he chuckles. “Bloody hell, look what you've done–” he squints at the username on the paper, his eyes widen at the crude name, he folds it in half to put it away. “‘m not even gonna read that out loud”

“What? why? Is it that bad?” You try to reach over him to try and sneak a peek.

“Not for your innocent eyes, lovie.” he flicks the paper away, it swishes away, slowly falling down on the carpeted floors.

You see the camera crew stifling a laugh from your peripheral as Hobie puts his whole hand over your face. The sheer size of it covers your entire face.

“This is why the last comment says your hands would look great as a necklace.” Your voice is muffled by his hand, now you feel bad for the audio editors.

“Well that one is more logical” he takes his hand off your face, wiping his hand on your too expensive blouse, pretending that your drool is sticking on his palm.

“This is vintage, Hobie” you say in between giggles. He rolls his eyes while he takes a piece of paper from your bowl.

He rests his chin on your shoulder as he holds the comment in front of you to read. You reach behind to gently scratch his nape.

“‘Please step on me, Y/N. Oh and Hobie can join too’” you two laugh simultaneously. Your stomach hurts from all the laughter.

Hobie leans too far back, too engrossed in his laughing. With a thud he falls off the stool, his legs raised like a cartoon character that slipped on a banana peel.

You gasp, hearing loud laughter from the crew that makes you laugh too as you see him put up a thumbs up with a goofy smile on his face.

“You look bloody fit in this angle” he flirts, the only comment from today's shoot that made butterflies fly in your stomach.

“Charmer” you're surprised that you managed to say a word as your cheeks heat up. Lending him a hand, you raise him back to his feet awkwardly.

His hand stays on yours, holding it tenderly, squeezing it three times while he looks at you longingly. “Let's get this over with so you can step on me right after.” He whispers.

“Hobie!” You hope they stopped filming because of his blunder.

#request done #hobie brown x reader #spider punk x reader #the kr8tor's creations #x reader #atsv fanfiction #atsv fanfic #atsv x reader #hobie brown x fem!reader #hobie brown x you #spider punk x you #spider punk x fem!reader #famous au #band au #actor au #hobie fluff #fanfic