#actor fanfiction

[everythingacotarbxm1012]

They're Mates Pt 2

Summary - Feyre learns about Azriel and Vee's story as she and Rhysand make their way to the prison

Warnings/Other Notes - Blood, injury, and physical abuse mentioned in this part. None of it graphic but please proceed with caution; 1.3k words; Again, these lines/plot points are inspired by, or directly quoted from, ACOMAF

Part One

✨💫

Even days after the dinner, Feyre still had questions about Rhysand and his Inner Circle. Specifically questions about the spymaster, about the emissary. What was Azriel’s story? What was Vee’s story? What were those burns from? If Vee was Illyrian, why did she still have her wings? And the shadows…? Feyre shuddered at the thought. She fell asleep repeating those questions in the back of her mind.

The following morning, Feyre jolted awake to find Amren standing at the foot of her bed. She rubbed her temples as Amren made some comment about vomiting her guts up before throwing something onto the bed. “That got me out of prison. You wear it in––they can’t keep you.”

Feyre didn’t so much as move.

Amren leaned forward slightly. “Let me be very clear. This is not some toy. I do not give it lightly, but I’ll allow you to have it while you go to the prior and do what must be done. When you are finished,” Amren took a breath, “return it or suffer the very unpleasant consequences.” Amen was gone the moment Feyre had her fingers against the cool metal.

Feyre quickly dressed for her visit with Rhys to the prison. The questions still mingled in the back of Feyre’s mind, but the prospect of the prisoner dulled the curiosity.

“What?” Feyre asked when she noticed the High Lord looking at the amulet around her neck for the tenth time.

“She gave you that amulet,” Rhys stated.

“It’s serious, I suppose,” Feyre responded. “I, well, the risk––”

“You don’t want to say something you don’t want the others hearing,” Rhysand warned. “Those inmates have nothing to do but listen through the earth for information to trade for food or sex or even some air.”

Feyre didn’t respond as he offered his hand to her to help with a particular steep bit of rock. “I’m sorry about yesterday,” Feyre said as she took Rhysand’s hand. She referred to the inability to get out of bed after seeing the prison for the first time.

The High Lord shook his head. “There is nothing to be sorry about, Feyre. You are here now. And don’t worry.” He winked. “Your pay won’t be docked.”

They continued their climb until the upper face of the mountain was a wall before the pair. Below, Feyre and Rhysand could see the flow of the grass. Feyre’s gaze quickly shifted to Rhys when he pulled out a sword. He noted the look on Feyre’s face.

“Oh, don’t look so surprised,” he said.

“I’ve just never seen you with a weapon before,” Feyre responded.

“Cassian would laugh until he couldn’t talk if he heard that. Then make me spar with him.”

“Could you beat him?” Feyre asked. “Cassian I mean.”

“Hand-to-hand combat? Certainly.” Feyre noticed the lack of pride and arrogance in Rhys’s tone. “He wouldn’t win easily, but he would win. He is the best warrior I’ve ever met, ever. The reason I’ve entrusted him to lead my armies.”

There were a few short moments of silence as Feyre thought. The other two. Azriel and Vee. “Azriel, his hands,” Feyre questioned. “The scars, I mean. How did he get them?”

Rhys’s face darkened, a flicker of pain in his eyes as silence stretched for a moment. “His father, a lord, had two legitimate sons who were both older than Azriel. Spoiled. Cruel. Learned traits from their mother, the lord’s wife. For the first eleven years of his life, he lived under his father’s keep. The lord’s wife saw to it that Azriel was kept in a cell with no window or light. They let him out for an hour every day…only let him see his mother for an hour once a week. He was not allowed to train, fly, or doing anything else his Illyrian instincts screamed at him to do.” 

Another pause ad Rhys’s voice softened. “When Azriel was eight, his brothers thought it would be fun if they mixed an Illyrian’s quick healing oil and…and fire. His father’s warriors heard his screams, but they found him too late. He was left the scars from the burns.”

The image of Vee gently kissing Azriel’s hand when she had met everyone flashed through Feyre’s mind, the action having a whole new meaning to her. But Vee. She said she was Illyrian, but she also said Illyrians have a habit of ridding females of their wings. “And Vee, her wings.” Feyre searched for the right words for a moment. “She is Illyrian, but still has her wings?”

The most subtle sigh escaped Rhys. “She is, she does. Her story is intimately tied with Azriel’s. She was born to an Illyrian family, who trained her from a young age to attract the attention of males. Illyrian females are seen as nothing more than breeding stock. When they were both eight, a few months before Azriel’s hands were burned she was out and about when he was having his allotted time with his mother. His shadows took it upon themselves to go and say hello to the young girl. In hindsight, they likely realized the connection between Azriel and Vee before either of them even considered it. Vee interacted with his shadows before they returned to their master, whispering what she had shared with them.”

The image of the his shadows weaving through the edges of Vee’s hair came into her mind’s eye.

“At some point his shadows starting sharing secrets about Azriel to Vee. The shadows became a lifeline for the both of them, using his shadows to share messages with each other. She was the one to keep him company during those last three years of confinement. Despite there being no windows or light, the shadows found a way. When he was brought to the training camp where Cassian and I were, I suspect their messages to each other continued. Soon after my mother took Cassian and Azriel under her care too, Azriel’s shadows informed him that Vee was in distress, in danger during the night. He didn’t have to think twice, he was flying out of our home in an instant.” Rhys shuddered at the next thought, the image of Vee, bloodied and injured in Azriel’s arms that was long since buried came rising to the surface. “Azriel walked in to see her father in the beginning moments of cutting her wings up, to permanently destroy them. It wasn’t enough for her father to just cut off her wings and be done with it.”    

The thought setting a nauseating feeling into the pit of Feyre’s stomach.    

“I suspect that if Vee was not so badly injured, Azriel might have had a go at her father, maybe even tried to kill him. My mother took her in too and by miracle saved Vee’s wings. Azriel helped her learn to fly again after she healed. One of his shadows was always with her if he couldn’t be with Vee himself. He taught her to how to defend herself. He adopted the name Vee after she declared she did not want the name her father had given her. Vee, derived from Velaris. Their mating bond snapped about a year later. Neither of them hesitated to accept it. During the war they rarely saw each other, using the bond to communicate, to ensure the other was alive. She managed a few short, brief meetings. Azriel is my spymaster because he can infiltrate courts undetected, gather information, keep tabs on our allies and enemies. Vee is my emissary because her ability to take the information Azriel has gathered and use that charm she has to gather allies is, invaluable.”   

The truth that Rhys would not share, at least not yet, was Azriel and Vee’s story was the one that gave him an inkling of hope with Feyre. Both Azriel and Vee were scarred, beaten down by the world, torn apart, but they always found their way to back to each other. All Rhysand could do was hope that the same would eventually be true for himself and Feyre.

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #actor fanfiction #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #acomaf #rhysand #feyre #rhysand x feyre #cassian #3rd person pov

[darylsgirl]

Norman Reedus Fan Fictions

Missing Him

When Norman goes away to Georgia filming the walking dead, You find yourself frustrated missing him more than ever. Deciding to give the 50 shades books a chance. He comes home early catching you in the act. 

Word count: 2.7k

Georgia Livin

After a clumsy mistake sent you head first into a walking dead set and into his arms. You were surprised that they had loved it and used that as the new season ending. Going back to work and pretending that it didn’t happen you Run into Norman again. Unable to keep your hands off each other this time.

Word Count: 11k

Chapter Two

After becoming Norman’s love interest on the walking dead, You had received a distressing phone call from home, Were your secrets about to be revealed? You thought Norman would never speak to you again after that one night of passion but another guy making a move forced him to come and admit his feelings for you.

Word Count: 9.9k

Chapter Three

You and Norman had managed to keep your relationship a secret even with him making love to you on camera, When your secret finally comes out live on air the past comes back to haunt you.

Word count: 9.2k

Chapter Four

This was it, Norman was finally showing his love to you by making you his wife. You had to do some damage control once you found out someone had leaked your history to the press. What you didn’t know was who had done it. After a huge shock he seems to betray you.  

Word Count: 10k

Chapter Five

After breaking some big news to Norman, The temptation of the fans almost causes him to betray you. Hurt you leave going home to England. When you have to go back to Georgia for Filming your past comes back to haunt you.

Word count: 10.5 K

The Assistant

Summary: When Norman gets a new Live in assistant who seems set on keeping you apart, Feeling hurt and rejected after not hearing from Norman you decided to confront him. Smut

Word count: 6k

Back to Master list

#norman reedus #smut fanfiction #norman reedus smut #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon #daryldixon #twd daryl #twd #norman reedus fanfic #love norman reedus #american actor #actorslife #actor fanfiction #norman reedus imagines #norman reedus x reader #norman reedus fanfiction #norman reedus icons #norman reedus imagine #melissa mcbride

[fandomnom]

Batman: I always knew it was you

Warning(s): sexual tension, slight smut, death, violence

You ride your motorcycle all through Gotham City when you run across Wayne Manor. You knock on the door when you hear a somewhat familiar voice. “Who is it?!”

You look around when you see a camera and you wave with a smirk on your face. “I’m Y/N, Y/L/N. Is that you Alfred?”

Alfred ecstatically says, “Ah, one second!!”

You see the gates of Wayne Manor open up before you and you drive your motorcycle to the front of the mansion. You park your motorcycle and walk up the stairs to the door. Before you can even knock Alfred opens the door with a smile on his face. Alfed says and asks, “Hello Ms. Y/L/N. How may I help you today?”

You say, “I know Bruce is Batman...”

Alfred says, “No h-”

You interrupt Alfred and say, “I know Alfred. I know you want to protect me but it was only a matter of time. You knew this whole time. You couldn’t help it Alfred. I know you did it for my well being.”

Alfred looks at you in your eyes and says, “Thank you for understanding. I assume you may want to know where Bruce is. Well, he is downstairs. I shall walk you to the elevator.”

You hug Alfred tight and say, “Thank you dad.”

He smiles a little and hugs you back. You both walk together and Alfred waves bye as you go down. You walk down the long hallway and finally see the light when you see Bruce and you say, “Hello... Bruce or should I say Batman.”

Bruce stares at you with intense eyes. (photo above)

Bruce says, “Who told you??”

You say, “Nobody. I know you knew that I would have figured it out eventually.”

Bruce says, “I never wanted to know.”

You ask, “Why?’

Bruce says, “I don’t have to explain any of that to you.”

You look at him and says, “Explain it to me Bruce.”

Bruce ignores you and you say “Wow Bruce, I didn’t even think I was someone you couldn’t speak to anymore. I guess we aren’t close anymore. That explains a lot of why I haven’t seen you in years. You know what... whatever Bruce.”

You roll your eyes and walk back to take the elevator. Before you take the elevator you say, “See you at my mom’s funeral tomorrow...”

You look at Bruce and he keeps his back to you. You get on the elevator and tear up a little in the eyes.You swipe them swiftly and see your dad. You hug him tight and say, “I’ll see you tomorrow dad.” You leave and drive off.

The next day....

You look out the window remembering what happened with Bruce when you feel a tight squeeze on your hand. You look at your dad and smile weakly as your eyes are red from crying. Albert says, “Everyhting will be alright. Your mom loved you and you know how proud I am of you. You will alawys be my little paw child.”

You smile and kiss your dad on the cheek. You guys finally make it to the funeral entrance when you get out with your dad. Alfred says, “I’m gonna be in there okay?”

You nod and look at all the people who came to see your mother but Bruce wanlt there until you hear a car door close. You look over to see Bruce closing his car door. (gif below)

You look at him and he looks over at you, but you turn away. You walk into the funeral and sit next to your dad. Everyone is settled and listens to the service.

2 Hours later...

You hold your father’s hand as everyone gets up and leaves the funeral service. He says, “I’ll see you later tonight or at least give a call okay?”

You nod yes and Alfred walks away. You look at everyone leaving when you see Bruce standing there looking at you. When Bruce starts walking toward you a car crashes through the building.Bruce snaps his concerned look back at you  (gif below)

Bruce starts running towards you and shields you. When you both look up you guys see Alfred’s dead body attached to the vehicle. You scream, “NO!!”

You try to run to the body when Bruce stops you and says, “It’s a trap. Riddler striked again.”

You start to bretahe heavy and Bruce sits you down as he runs toward the vehicle. He reads the note “I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the lover’s tree huh?? First, its mommy. Then, it’s daddy. I wonder whose next Bruce?? Do you know her?” 

Bruce looks on the back of the card to see your face on it and he suddenly hears your muffled scream. Your taken from henchmen before Bruce could get you. You are dragged to a warehouse when you are drugged. You eye seem heavy when you finally knock out.

4 hours later...

You open your eyes slwoly with a dazed look within your face when you see a man with Leather stretching tape. (Gif below)

You look at him and looks at you. He says, “Ah, Y/N. You’re finally up sleepyhead. You know I’ve dreamt of that face between my palms for such a long time. I see Bruce has your attention, but why not go for someone smart?”

He walks up to you and rips the tape off your mouth. He says, “I know you like it aggressive.”

He starts laughing maniacally and says, “I know you found out that Bruce is Batman. A- a so called hero. You were supposed to be mine, but since you won’t listen maybe just maybe you will. Since you love Bruce so much now you’ll both have dead parents. Now you’re just like him.”

You start to cry when you hear a beeping sound. Riddler starts to laugh when he hears a knock at the door. Riddler hears a music box play a familiar tune when you see Bruce behind the door in the dark as Riddler opens the door. You both make eye contact. Riddler says, “What a stupid pla-.” 

Bruce knocks Riddler out with multiple hits, swipes his leg, and knocks riddler out. The police barge in. They put Riddler in handcuffs and take him out. You look at Bruce and befor he can say anything you kiss him. You feel him kiss you back. When you both pull apart you say, “I forgive you.”

Bruce puts his forehead against yours. You walk outside and to see Jim Gordon. You tell him all the details and they drive you home. You sit on the couch and try to process everything when you see a note on the TV stand. You feel uneasy when you see the Batman logo. You open the note and start to read it.

The next day...

You walk up into the higher floor of a mysterious building where you see Batman. You walk up to him when you stnad in front of him. “Bruce”

He makes eye contact with you and you stare back at him. He says, “Y/N.”

(Gif Below)

You say, “ I love you Bruce.”

Bruce looks at you and says, “I lo-”

He stops and then says, “We can’t”

You say, “Bruce, I don’t care about the danger.”

Bruce says,” I will never forgive myself for what happened to your father. I will never ever forgive myself if something happens to you.”

You say, “Well you’re not the only one with a background. Who do you think is Catwoman?”

Bruce eyes widen when he realizes. You smirk and say “Remember my dad called me paws. It’s for a reason. I’m working with you and you have no other choice.”

You start to smile and Bruce shows a hint of a smile. You start to laugh a little when you ask Bruce, “Are we in this together or not?”

Bruce sighs and you put your hand out. Bruce shakes your hand. You pull him close and say, “I’ve always had my fair share of fantasies about you. Wanna make it come true?”

Bruce picks you up and your wrap your legs around him and you guys make it to his manor and make love onto his bed. As you both brethe heavy and kiss with passion you start to moan. Bruce sticks it in deeper and you gasp. Bruce bites the nape of your neck and doesn’t stop until he hears you scream for more. You scratch his back and leave marks. You both continue to make love...

3 hours later...

You and Bruce are cuddling and looking up at the night sky through his seeing ceiling. You guys smile and he caresses your face. Bruse says, “I love you Y/N.”

You smile and say “I love you too Bruce.”

You peck him on the lips when an alarm goes off and the Batman ligh signal is shown in the sky. You both get dressed and take the elevator up. You look at Bruce and ask, “You ready?”

Bruce does one nod of yes and then both run to the Batmobile. Bruce turns on the Batmobile and both drift off into Gotham to beat crime...

THE END. END PER SAY??

#fanfic #batman #robert pattinson #robert pattison fic #batman fanfiction #catwoman #gotham #batman imagine #batman fic #smut #robert pattison fanfic #robert pattison fanfiction #imagine #imagines #batman fandom #actor imagine #actor icons #actor imagines #actor fanfiction #batman x reader #batman x catwoman #alfred pennyworth #bruce wayne #bruce wayne fic #bruce wayne fanfiction #bruce wayne imagine #dc fanfic #dc imagine #dc fanfiction

[stylusmusings]

A series idea?

Hey guys, So an idea for another series involving Tom Holland getting railed by various celebs. The issue is, I need help with ideas of celebrities with big dick, alpha male vibes. Feel free to comment or message me ideas!

#tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fic #spider man no way home #mcu fanfiction #mcu smut #actor fanfiction #peter parker #spiderman #mcu spiderman #no way home #spiderman no way home #nsfwabc

[buckyalpine]

Actor Bucky and actress reader

He cums accidentally while trying to hold it together during a sex scene.

Imagine a gorgeous but shy beefy Bucky nervous as hell filming an intimate scene with his co star because hes harbouring the most massive crush on her.

He in nothing but a tiny cup covering his most private parts, his perky sculpted ass barely covered by the thin sheet laid on top you both.

“You okay?” He whispers, always checking in on you, his large mass covering you entirely. You give him a shy smile, nodding, the feel of your hands moving to drape around his shoulder making him blush.

“Alright! Get ready to sell it Barnes” Tony calls out, hushing everyone before he starts rolling, signalling a thumbs up to sam to start filming “and action!!”

Bucky braces himself on his forearms keeping his body off yours, moving forward instead of actually thrusting. The lewd sounds you start to make make his hips involuntarily buck forward more than necessary and he nearly stutters.

“Oh God! Please, slow down” you cry softly, portraying your role as a shy house wife perfectly, nervous to consummate her marriage.

Bucky doesn’t think he can take your delicate pleading, his cock straining, desperate for some relief. He can feel it leaking the more you moan, his knuckles turning white gripping onto the sheets.

“So good to me” Bucky whispers back, swallowing thickly as his mind starts to wander over how you’d sound it he was actually stretching you out. Would you moan about how he was too big? Would you beg for him to keep going till he dripped right out of your sweet cunt? Would you want to lick and taste how wet he got for you, moaning over how fat and thick his dick was, worried over how you’d fit all of him inside you? His massive size carried all over, the blush on his face spreading to his neck when his erection nearly brushes against your covered core.

You blink up at him, staring into his baby blue eyes feeling his hardness press against you as it grows, nearly wetting the sheets. Your eyes are locked together and Bucky’s sure he’s not going to control himself, not when you’re looking at him like that. Not when you’re biting your lip, he could’ve sworn he felt your hips buck up, your thighs spreading slightly.

You let out a whimper, his warm breath fanning over your face and he can smell how fucking wet you are. He’s humping the air, just centimetres from where he really wants to be, fuck he wasn’t going to hold it, his balls felt tight, his cock was going to fucking burst-

“Kiss me My love” you say your final line before pulling him down for a heated kiss, letting it get more hot and heavy that the script intended. As soon as he tastes your tongue on his, he moans into your mouth, eyes rolling back, his back muscles flexed and tensed as he soaks the with his cum. He doesn’t pull away, tearing the sheets with his grip as he cums hard, his cock throbbing, till he can feel the front all warm and damp, whimpering till he’s all empty.

“AND CUT! FANTASTIC” Tony cheers, over the moon with how it turned out, “that was great and nice touch ripping the sheets Barnes, made it look real. Everyone take 5 and we’ll shoot that diner scene”

Everyone starts to pack up to get ready for the next shoot and Bucky swears he hears you let out a little giggle as you pull away, smiling at his flustered state.

“You okay, Buck?” You coo while he bites back a whine, his softening cock now sensitive and aching. Your assistant runs over to slip you into a robe, dragging you off to hair and makeup while he holds the sheet to the lower half of his body.

He grabs the robe Steve hands to him, smirking at his best friend with his head cocked to the side.

“You sure that was acting, Buck?” Steve snorts, nodding to the wet patch on the sheet while Bucky groans, grabbing it and stuffing it away before running off to his room.

“Shut up”

#actor bucky #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky fan fics #Bucky actor au #james bucky buchanan barnes #marvel au #marvel smht #Bucky barnes x actress reader #bucky barnes x f reader #bucky barnes x smht #Bucky barnes x fluff #beefy Bucky #shy beefy Bucky #beefy bucky smut #beefy bucky barnes #beefy bucky barnes fluff #beefy bucky fluff #beefy bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #beefy bucky x reader #shy bucky barnes

[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

[tetragonia]

#rafe cameron #drew starkey #outer banks #obx #rafe obx #rafe cameron obx #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron gif #rafe cameron fanfiction #drew starkey gifs #drew starkey obx #tetragifs #tetrapost drew starkey #tetrapost obx #tetrapost actor

[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

[j3nmy]

Because i'm a good Old-Fashioned lover boy .

#my artwrok #good omens ineffable husbands #good omens headcanons #good omens 2 #good omens #good omens season 2 #ineffable husbands #crowley x aziraphale #crowley #aziraphale #aziracrow #go2 fanart #good omens fanart #good omens fanfiction #good omens fandom #actors #david tennant #michael sheen #fanart

[melaninpov]

Trevante Rhodes aka Daddy in Candy Cane Lane (2023)

#Trevante Rhodes #Candy Cane Lane #Amazon Prime #St. Nick #Black Santa #Talented #Black Actors #Fine Black Man #Daddy Rhodes #Mr. Fleece #Christmas #Happy Holidays #Eddie Murphy #Tracee Ellis Ross #Healthy Snack #Beard Game Strong #Boss Man #Dark Chocolate #Melt in your mouth #trevante rhodes fanfiction

[oncomingnight]

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐀𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫

ᵀʰⁱˢ ᵖⁱᵉᶜᵉ ᵒᶠ ʷʳⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ ⁱˢ ᵐᵉᵃⁿᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᶠᵉᵐ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳˢ

You were a prop designer for several well-known shows and movies. This job allows you to meet and speak to multiple actors and actresses, some even award winning. But, on the set of an incredibly advertised and anticipated movie, you formed a friendship with one of the actors.

The producers of the movie were able to snag some of the best musicians for the soundtrack, the most unexpected collabs along with incredible actors in the cast that would most likely cause traffic on the way to the box office.

Ahmed, his name was. You'd always found him immensely attractive and even... alluring. These thoughts of yours were never shared with him because you didn't want to embarrass yourself with the possibility of a one-sided confession.

What you would come to acknowledge was that Ahmed shared your feelings, if not stronger. He was enamored with the passion you had for your craft, speaking of it even outside of work. The absolute care and attentiveness that leaked out of you was enough to make his pupils morph into hearts.

After a long day of filming, he decided to invite you to his room in the Airbnb that all of the film stars were stationed in. You didn't expect to see all of the food he had prepped for you, most were cooked in memory of his homeland. Whilst you spent your unconfirmed 'date-night' laughing and talking about your personal lives, he cut through the conversation and made room for his confession.

"Y/n, by your face when you walked into the room, I know you're confused as to why I did all...this. Well, I find you incredibly pleasant to be around, and I want more of you and of this. Moments where it's just you and me without the bustle of meetings, calls, press tours, fittings. You make me feel as if I'm so much more than what I've imprinted onto the world, so much more than what people judge me for. The thought of you drives me absolutely crazy and to think about the fact that you're not mine drives me even crazier, in an extremely self destructing manner. So, if you'll have me, I'd love to be able to be the one you call 'mine'. Will...you have me?"

Despite being shocked about the feelings you had oh, so, desperately tried to hide from Ahmed being shared, you were able to find your words and stammer a "yes".

After this incident, you could hardly bite back your smile when you saw him around the set. He would follow you around on his breaks as if you had him on an invisible leash. He'd memorize your coffee order from the days you spent together and hand you the caffeine filled cup first thing in the morning.

When the movie had finally been released, the two of you decided to move in together.

This was his idea.

You hardly noticed his obsessive tendencies as he would indulge in them when you had your back turned towards him. But if you did notice, you didn't say anything...I mean, how silly would you look if you accused him of something false? Plus, it felt incredibly reassuring and nice to have someone so willing to love you and protect you under any circumstance.

Like, murder.

When Ahmed was there to witness someone flirting with you, he would dig his nails into his shaking palms with beads of sweat sprouting onto his sun-kissed forehead. Who did they think they were? They seriously thought they were good enough for you? As if you'd stoop so low.

Ahmed would use his reputation as an A-list actor to make sure that person never has the chance to talk to you again. He's got connections that would shock you, but it's all a normal evening stroll to him.

Let's cut to the chase, yeah? You and him have quite the age gap but he doesn't use this as an excuse to degrade you and your intelligence. I can't say the same for some of the press, though. During the press tour, he'd get asked questions about your relationship that were quite insulting.

How convenient is it that right after the interview, the journalist just so happened to lose their job...huh. anyways!

He'd kill for you, alright? He's admitted this to you several times during intimate moments. He's even said this during interviews, just not flat out.

Int: "and your most recent girlfriend, would you like to speak about her?"

Ahmed: " of course I would. I mean, yeah, she's truly amazing, I couldn't believe it when she said yes to being with an old man like me. I'd do anything for her, absolutely anything. We're stuck with each other."

Int: "oh, come on! Your age gap is barely anything, and it sounds like she's got you wrapped around her pinky, huh?"

Ahmed: "Thank you, not many would agree with that, sadly. And, oh yeah, she's got me hooked."

Before you, he never even thought of the word 'marriage'. His past relationships were absolutely nothing compared to you. Your presence practically engulfed him into a warm, tight, quilted hug. He's never going back.

He hopes you haven't noticed his search history for a shiny rock to put on your finger, after all, it's supposed to be a surprise!

In interviews, absolutely nothing can stop Ahmed from speaking about you and how you make him feel. It leaves interviewers questioning their own relationships.

Ahmed regularly goes shopping for gifts to surprise you with, he stores it in his memory what your likes and dislikes are. Do you like sweets? Gold jewelry? Lacey clothing? Silk? Jade jewelry? He'll buy it all.

"and how much is this necklace?"

"1,500."

"Eh, I could do better. Show me another one."

He takes you out to the most expensive and incredibly well renowned restaurants, trips and events. You've given him such an incredible amount of joy that he'd never thought he'd ever feel, but you proved him differently. You deserve to be constantly rewarded and reminded of everything you're worth.

His co-stars and long life friends have noticed the feelings you ignite within him, how he now has an extra pep in his step when he walks onto set. Now, they may be a little overprotective of you as well. Whenever some rando on the internet accuses you of being a golddigger despite you constantly overworking yourself, him and his friends are always the first to defend you. On and off camera.

Ahmed understands that everyone has off days where they don't feel so great, he acknowledges that you'll go through that. But he'll never let you go through it alone. He'll put your favorite movie/show on, stroke your cheek and kiss the side of your head, cook up your favorite meal and station himself by your side with his arms around you.

At times, you'll feel self conscious, having horrible thoughts that Ahmed will leave you when you inevitably age, as older men enjoy younger woman and you have an age gap yourselves.

He tells you that he'll never leave you for doing something that everyone does, it'd be silly and just plain wrong. He's not Leonardo DiCaprio, so don't you worry.

#yandere oc x reader #yandere #yandere oc #yandere oc x you #yandere oneshot #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #yandere x y/n #yandere x willing reader #yandere actor #yandere actor x reader #yandere headcanons #yandere fanfiction #yandere fantasy #headcanons #x reader #x yn #yandere movie

[imaniwriting]

Rafe Cameron having a soft spot for innocent, crybaby reader (like she gets injured or something like that) please 🙏

𝐒𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐭 (please send in requests they will be answered in 1-2 days)

Warnings: mentions of blood, swearing, super short

Summary : making dinner for Rafe and yourself you accidentally cut yourself

Genre : fluff

You were humming in the kitchen while cutting up some peppers when you accidentally cut yourself because you were watching an GRWM.

But it wasn’t a light cut it was an essentially deep one where the knife had stuck a little bit in your finger. You let out an intense scream and your eyes soon started tearing up.

When Rafe was in the living room, heard you he immediately took off in panic. Hundreds of thoughts ran through his mind when he made his way into the kitchen ready to be met with the worst.

He let out a sigh when he saw you clutching your finger. He slowed down and knelt beside you. “Baby,” he cooed gently taking your hand into his “what happened sweetheart?” He asked softly frowning at the tears running down your cheeks.

Rafe’s hand clutched her face gently wiping the tears with his thumb. “Come on let’s get you a bandage” he suggested picking you up by your thighs and sitting you down on the kitchen island. He went through the drawers looking for the hello kitty bandage he had bought for you early this week.

You sniffed staring at the man in front of you wrapping the children’s bandage around your finger. “Thank you” you said staring at your finger. “ No problem baby.” He replied kissing your lips. “Rafe?” You asked.

“Yes?” He had answered his face still oh so close to yours. “I love you” she said softly, making a smile grow on his lips. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before grabbing her jaw and connecting their lips once again. “I love you too baby.”

#rafe x you #rafe smut #rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe fanfiction #rafe outer banks #rafe imagine #rafe cameron #soft!rafe cameron #fluff #jj maybank #outer banks #rafe cameron imagine #outer banks rafe #rafe cameron thoughts #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron fluff #actors #celebrities #movies #netflix

[uzurimisery]

chapter 4: the bluff. / coriolanus snow / nsfw

Rating: Explicit

WC: 6746

Warnings: MDNI, rough sex, he's still insane and possessive, PIV, unprotected sex (this guy is never wearing a condom ever), angry sex, he's not a good guy but he's hot, not beta read

AO3 version | Series master

You slammed the dressing room door shut. “What the hell was that , Coriolanus?” pacing the length of the room, anger seeping out of you. “Did you forget what we were supposed to do? We were supposed to play it off, say we were too young. That was not playing it off! That was proposing!”

In your rage, you stumbled in your heels. He watched you curse under your breath, undoing the strap on them and throwing them across the room. Coriolanus didn’t move, cemented in his spot just past the door.

“Listen to me Y/N,” his tone was stern, like a parent scolding a child. “I didn’t mean to.”

“Of course you did!” you interrupted your voice tinged with sarcasm. “You always do whatever you want, don’t you? Here, the gala, the dinner. Always regardless of the consequences!”

Your words were sharp, digging in the fact that whatever was going on between you two there was meant to be a unified front, a single storyline. You were meant to be partners in the power play, both of you using each other to further your positions. All the work that went into constructing the next five years of the act was undone in an instant.

“I thought we were on the same page, Coriolanus. There was a plan for what we were going to do, but you just fucked it up!” He was always hypercritical of himself, internal monologue pointing out his every mistake, but you doing the same set him off.

“Can you shut up for five seconds! Or are you so self-obsessed that you can't let anyone else get a word in.”

“How dare you try and talk to me about being self-obsessed you narcissistic, unthoughtful-”

“There you go! Proving my point. You can’t even get off your high horse for a minute so I can explain why I did that.”

“You want to explain? Fine then, explain.” you spat.

Coriolanus’ jaw clenched. You were so hot and cold with him. He could never gauge what you really wanted in all of this, and you would never just tell him either.

“I saw an opportunity.”

“For what?”

“To play the part, to make the story so much better. Picture it, Coriolanus Snow, a man who has always been so organised and timely there are articles on how to put your life together like him, rushing into something. He’s so in love with his mentor’s daughter that he proposes to her on stage in front of all of Panem, and he doesn’t even have a ring on him because at that moment he realises that he can’t live without her.”

Your eyebrows were drawn, scanning over his face like you were looking for a fault in what he said, as you dissected it. There was nothing wrong with it though. The show was exactly how he described it. It painted him as a kind and caring man, beyond his known abilities at game making.

“You should have told me ahead of time.”

“I didn’t have a chance. I thought of it while getting ready.” he was lying, and you could tell. Seeing through lies was your speciality. He hadn’t thought about it while getting ready.

You called him on his bluff. “Bullshit. You didn’t have any plan, that was all impulse.” you were digging your finger into his chest to make your point. “You could have ruined everything we’ve been working on, made the past year pointless. What if I hadn’t followed along? What if I lost my composure for your little outburst? It’s not just your future on the line here Coriolanus. I’m leaving.”

Your shoulder bumped into his as you moved to walk out of the room, but his arm wrapped around your waist pulling you back and lifting you off the ground.

“Y/N,” he started.

“Let me go!”

“You don’t get to walk away from me. You need to listen to me.”

“I’m done listening to you, put me down!”

“Well, I’m not done talking!” Coriolanus pushed your back against the wall, pinning you in place.

Why couldn’t you just listen to him like you normally did? Why were you so upset with him? What he did was off-script but it still looked good, and it still achieved your shared goals. You didn’t get to walk away from him when he was right.

You slapped him, still able to move your arms. “I told you to let me go.” He tasted blood in his mouth. When he smiled at you, you felt your blood run cold.

“Are you done?” His teeth had traces of blood on them.

You weren’t about to be intimidated by him. You didn’t cower or beg anyone, and that included Coriolanus Snow. “Let. Me. Go.” your demands fell on deaf ears.

His smile only widened, eyes glistening with a sinister light. You thought he’d be furious with you, and hated that you were out of control, but it seemed more like he enjoyed it. That he liked it when you fought back.

“I told you Y/N, I’m not done talking.”

You moved to slap him again but were met with your wrists being grabbed and pinned above your head, utterly defenceless for whatever happened next. The expectation for him to strike you back weighing in the air. But he didn’t. Instead, his lips met yours, forcing your mouth open and letting his tongue in. You tried to fight back but he bit down on your lip and stopped you. His tongue only became more insistent. Copper on both your tongues.

You didn’t hate it. You were still mad at him, obviously, but the sexual tension that always between the two of you beckoned, its tendrils wrapping around you. Who said some angry sex wasn’t the solution to your being mad at him?

Your teeth clacked against each other as you jumped up, wrapping your legs around his midsection. Coriolanus’ free hand moved to support you. Standing like this he was able to grind his hips against yours, the friction delicious. The kiss was messy, both of you trying to prove something to the other with it.

When you pulled apart for air you spoke. “Let me go.” His breath was laboured, just as yours was, the rough makeout session leaving the both of you breathless.

“Not a chance, sweet girl.”

His grip on your wrists loosened, letting you slip free to pull at his hair, connecting your mouths once again. Your moans mixed with his own, body rolling to press your clothed pussy over his erection. Even though he had picked you up a multitude of times, it was always surprising how strong he actually was. His slim build did not give away how strong he actually was.

Everything between you was primal, driven by lust and anger.

Coriolanus brought you over to the couch, dropping you on your back. He liked you best like this, on your back and needy. Your high horse forgotten, and the only thing you rode him. The both of you took care to remove your clothes carefully, neither wanting to deal with a lecture from Tigris as well as knowing you had a dinner to attend in them after this. But that was where the caution ended.

The moment you were naked he had his fingers stretching you open with his thumb toying at your clit. His mouth was all over your skin, biting your breasts, adding to the marks already covering you. He was so rough with you and made you feel so small. But god did he know exactly what to do to you.

Your moans were sharp as he brought you to an orgasm. Everything you did drove him up a wall. Every time he thought he could move past it, ignoring the feeling, your pussy sucked him back in. It was your fault he made a mistake, that he lost his composure, that he went off script. He wanted access to your warmth whenever he wanted.

No matter how much he consumed you, he was still hungry, the type of hunger he hadn’t felt since the war. The one with claws that tore at his insides, teeth grinding into his bones. A bottomless pit that could never be filled. It clouded his mind with thoughts of you, your breasts and hips, the pout of your lips. He could almost always feel the sensation of you against him, biting into your soft flesh. It made him emotionally volatile, willing to risk everything for just a crumb. But every time he got a bite it filled him with dread.

Your perfume, boozy and peachy, a reminder that the only thing that would ever fill this hole was you. That when he was on the brink of death, starving and empty, it was you who would nourish him. Your being the very source of all his problems and all his solutions at the same time. A double-edged sword driving into his heart with every step he took towards you.

“See? Look how good you have it when you just behave.” you weren’t out of it yet, still able to spite back in vitriol.

“Fuck you.”

“Already have.” Coriolanus flipped you on your front, positioning you on your knees with your chest pressed against the couch.

Like this, he got to spread you open, look at what your body could offer him. Why did you have to be you? Why did you have to rival his mind and have such a perfect body? It ruined everything.

His fingers pressed back into you. He could watch you drip down them for hours, whiny and whimpering from his actions. Begging him to fuck you. No matter how you tried to act like you weren’t. You were just like him. Hungry and waiting.

Coriolanus lined up his cock with your entrance. Instead of easing into you, he thrust in fully, jolting your body forward. He wanted it to hurt, to make you feel sorry for blowing up at him. To show you that no matter how you acted out he could fuck you back into place.

He fucked you hard and fast, pulling your head back by your hair. It forced you up and to put your hands on the back of the couch. Your back arched, your shoulders almost against his chest. His other hand pinched at your nipples and tugged at them. It hurt, the perfect mix of pain and pleasure.

Moving his hand out of your hair, his fingers hooked into the side of your mouth. “Your mouth can be used for better things than being disrespectful.” your drool pooled around them, dribbling out the side of your mouth as you spoke.

“I’m gonna cum.” your speech altered from his fingers.

“I don’t care.” he did care, but he couldn’t let you know that, not right now. The biggest ego death to him would be if he was unable to make you cum. It fed his ego every time you clenched down around him, pussy fluttering from your orgasm. He didn’t slow down or let up, fully intent on taking his frustration out on you.

The air between you was hot and heavy, thick with the smell of sex. With his hands free, your waist became his new hold stone. Coriolanus didn’t even have to pull your hips to meet his, you were doing that for him, bucking backwards in time. Each trust had you panting little praises for him.

He wanted to see your face. You felt him pull out of you and then sit down on the couch next to you. “Ride me.”

You shifted, placing your knees on either side of him as you sunk down on his length. When you got to the base, you took a moment to recollect yourself, head tucked into the crook of his neck. Coriolanus’ lips found the crown of your head before he even recognised what he was doing. It was odd. This intimate act in the midst of all of this. He wanted to show you that he cared, that he wasn’t mad at you anymore. Why wasn’t he mad at you anymore? He was the type to let his anger fester, angry with infection. He waited until the moment was right and then he spread his sickness, cutting down whoever upset him. You were more useful than being cut down; however, he felt strongly towards you. The one thing he wouldn’t do is name those feelings.

The drag of your hips cut off his line of thought. He watched as you rode him, your thighs shaky but not letting it stop you. When you pulled your head out to kiss him he met you, enjoying the feeling of your lips against his. Hair and makeup would have a hay day with the two of you but the way you went all the way up, his tip the only thing inside you, to then your ass flush with his thighs made their annoyance worth it. Wanting to feel you cum around him again, his thumb began circling your clit, working you up to another orgasm.

“I’m close.”

“I know.”

Your hips slowed as you came, exhausted from riding him. But Coriolanus wasn’t done. His hand wrapped around your waist, moving you to an elevated position with his dick still inside you, and he began thrusting up into you. “Hold yourself just like that sweet girl.” You did as he told you, your head lulling to the front pressing your forehead against his. With a few final thrusts, he came inside you. You were winded, your eyes closed as he guided your bodies apart and grabbed a disposal west wipe to clean the both of you up. Finally, with that done, he could lay down and settle you on top of him, both of you naked and sweaty.

Neither of you spoke for a while, just listening to each other breathe, your head on his chest.

“I’m sorry.” apologises always felt like he was trying to speak a foreign language, his tongue struggling to make the sounds. “I shouldn’t have acted impulsively.”

“I'm sorry too. I shouldn’t have blown up on you.” his fingers traced your hairline as you lay on top of him, still reeling from the sex. “I just don’t like when things don’t go to plan, and they’ve not been going to plan between us.”

He couldn’t argue against that. Everything was so fuzzy between you. He didn’t know what you were feeling, but his feelings were you weren’t something he could ignore. When he said that he couldn’t picture his life without you it was true. He thought that speaking it out to the world would alleviate the pressure, and make it something he could keep inside himself, but he didn’t. He needed you to know that it meant it.

“Would it be so bad, marrying me?”

You picked your head up. “No,” you sighed. “It wouldn’t be.” He watched you find your original position, ear over his heart.

“We could be allies.” his heart pounded as you traced patterns on his skin. “You’re the first person I’ve met I’d consider that with. I could make you the First Lady of Panem.”

Being the First Lady was an appealing idea. You’d be able to do so much more in that position. It was a core belief of yours that the games were only the first step in binding the loyalty of the country, to furthering the control over the populace. Aid programs needed to be doled out in the Districts. People who were content were less likely to look behind the curtain and see what was really happening.

“What happens when you fall in love with someone? Would we divorce and I’d lose everything, both the games and my position?” there was uncertainty in your voice.

There could never be someone after you. You were it for him. Sure he could find a docile wife and marry her, leave her be and just have kids with her. But she could never truly know him. But you could, and you were learning the true him. And you wouldn’t make him separate his work and home life, you’d dive into it with him, lethal and cunning.

“That won’t happen,” he was blunt with his statement. “You’re the only one I could do this with.”

It felt like the weight was finally lifting off him some. The pressure that had been building and threatening to blow, to whistle like a kettle. As much as he had intended for your relationship to be a temporary political alliance, he wanted it to be permanent. He didn’t trust people, but he was growing to trust you, knowing that your goals were ultimately the same.

“But what if it does?” He had never seen you so worried about his feelings, genuine concern. “Or what if I fall in love with someone else?”

“Y/N,” his thumb brushed your lips, making you face him again. “I promise you that is never going to happen. Okay?”

“Okay.”

With a final look of determination, kissed you, his lips bruising against your own. He was hoping that it conveyed that he meant it with all his heart. He was never going to fall in love with someone else, the home you made in his heart was always going to be yours. The decor exactly how you left it if you ever walked away, waiting for you to come back. You’d never get the chance to walk away but that was the sentiment, that he could forgive you for leaving him if he took you back and you stayed with him. A dove with a broken wing was still a dove. It might not be able to soar in the slides, free from the gravity of the world, but it was still a dove. Even if he broke you and locked you up, you’d still be you.

He could never love another, not when he loved you. Coriolanus loved you. The realisation shook him, a tempestuous collision of the man he was and the man he wanted to be. The crack formed by Lucy Gray was broken open once again by you. He had convinced himself that love was a weakness, that it was something to be exploited. Over the past year of getting to know you, getting to be with you, you had challenged his core beliefs, forcing him to confront the fact that he loved you.

It was hard admitting it to himself. Just hours earlier he had told Tigris off for even suggesting the idea of it, vehemently denying it. He didn’t want to love you then, terrified at the idea of you finding out and leaving. But you had said it wouldn’t be so bad to be married to him, that you’d be willing to be allies for the rest of your life. The truth was there though, written into every interaction he had with you. The glaring reality that he could no longer ignore, lingered in his eyes like a burned-in image.

It was terrifying, the exact opposite of the control he wanted to have over those around him, to have you control his heart. The practised emotional detachment he had led his life with failed in his darkest hour. The fear that you’d be just like Lucy Gray and run. It didn’t matter that you both worked on the games, that he had seen you develop new ways to punish the Capitol’s enemies, that you had just as much darkness within you as he did. That you were as ruthless as he was. The betrayal he had once experienced at the hands of a District dog had him petrified of it happening again.

Could he erase your existence like he did hers if something happened? The thought was both horrifying and tempting. He didn’t want it to come to that, to erase you, to discard you like a broken toy. You were better than Lucy Gray, you wouldn’t betray him. He wouldn’t let you. But he couldn’t come to you with this, not yet. Coriolanus Snow needed you to break down and beg him to tell him that he loved you. When he could see you, lost in your feelings for him, then he could tell you. Not before, not after. But at the moment when you are in desperate need of him, he could tell you. Only then could he believe that you loved him too.

______________________________________

Things have been busy since then and luckily you have been able to avoid conversation with your mother too. Coriolanus and you had no time to talk about your game plan and what would've happened next as the games started. Every day you were at the Citadel, ensuring things ran smoothly. He was there too, doing his own work, but the amount you had to do kept you from each other. It wasn’t until after the games ended that the two of you got a moment alone. Of course, you had been to several events together but you couldn't talk about things there. So when the last person left the production room, you were finally alone with him.

“Did you mean what you said that night on the balcony, that it was hard pretending that you loved me?”

The two of you were in his private lab. You were sitting on the edge of his desk instead of a chair, something he noticed you liked to do. After the cameras had been turned off you had taken your hair down from the pinned updo made of a braid, letting the braid hang loose.  The heels you were wearing off your feet and lost in the room. Coriolianus’ head was in your lap as your fingers brushed through his hair. The slight stubble he’d grown over the last two days catching on your tights.

His voice was muffled by your thigh. “No.”

“No you didn't mean it or no it isn’t hard pretending that you love me?” Your fingers were putting him to sleep. It had been so long since he had been touched like this. He only had one strong memory of his mother. They had been sitting before the fire, her belly full with his younger sister, her finger running through his, much like your own, singing a song he couldn’t remember now, the melody lost with time.

“No,” he finally replied, groggy. “It’s not hard pretending that I love you”

There was a flicker of hope within you when he first confessed to you that night on the balcony. You had convinced yourself that he was being vulnerable with you then, letting you in. Was this him adding kindling to that fire or dousing it?

“Is it easy then?” Each word was laced with intrigue and tinged with trepidation. The question wormed itself into the conversation, hanging in the air like the hum of the machinery. He tensed under you like he had been unprepared for this conversation, a betrayal of how he normally was.

Coriolanus’ response was slow, deliberate and weighted, with every individual syllable chosen carefully. “No, it’s not easy either.” The threading of your fingers felt so good against his scalp, it was criminal. “It’s neither easy nor hard, it’s necessary.” He shrugged with that statement, drowsy from the long day and your actions.

It was strange seeing him like this, his head in your lap as he was half asleep. The Coriolanus you knew was a man of fronts, never betraying his persona of unwavering composure and unyielding strength. He was smart and capable, bringing the Snow family back from the brink of destruction. But now there was no front present. He was relaxed and open, the tension in his shoulders finally released as he rested on your thighs. You could see every pore of skin, every hair out of place. There was a faint scar above his lip, so blended with his skin that you had never seen it before. It had access to the same medical and cosmetic treatments as you did meaning that he had left this one there on purpose. A reminder of something that had happened to him.

You chewed on his words as you watched him. It was neither easy nor hard pretending that he loved you, it was necessary. It was a non-answer, a refusal to tell you his feelings on the matter, that itself a revealing statement. He was used to his words working on others, his honied lips spinning the sweetest lies. But you had watched him, seen him change over the years. Coriolanus was a man burdened with his own demons that sat at the table with him. There was an understanding in that. You had your own demons that sat in the corner of your room every night, watching you sleep and whispering dangerous things. Neither of you were innocent good-hearted people, both of you violent and deadly.

But his cracks were showing, and that night under the stars with too much to drink, he had let you see just how much they were cracking. You were willing to pick up the pieces and help him put them back together. Your own feelings were the same as his, you were just better at hiding it.

“My father wants us to have an engagement party.”

“When?”

“In two weeks at my family estate,” knowing your father, it was going to be a spectacle. He doted on you. “But he wants to have a private dinner before that, just your family and mine.” His only family was Grandma’am and Tigris. If you wanted to, you could count the Plinths as family, even though he hated the thought of having any relationship with them.

“That’s fine. I’m sure Grandma’am will be excited, she’s been pestering me about marrying you while she’s still alive to see it.”

“She wants you to marry me?”

He murmured some form of agreement, still out of it. “She says you make me smile like I haven’t since I was a boy. It’s annoying actually, she keeps demanding that I bring you around for lunch.” This was news. Your interactions with Grandma’am had always been under the pretence of public events, you never thought much of them, but apparently she had. More than that, she thought more of your effect on her grandson.

“You should be kinder to her, you don’t know how long she’s got left.”

Coriolanus’ head lifted from your lap, rubbing his eyes as he propped his head up on a hand. “I know,” it wasn’t nice to have to think about the fact his Grandma’am was up there in age, that she maybe had another 15 years left. If that. “I’ll tell her we’ll do lunch then.”

Your smile was irresistible. “Good. The least you can do for her is let her think that you’ve found someone you genuinely love, and who loves you just as much. She’ll never know that it's just an act either. It’ll let her rest easy knowing you’re taken care of.”

His heart sank, and his stomach dropped out and onto the ground.

“Yeah, it’s a good act too.”

______________________________________

Coriolanus paced in the foyer, stopping every so often his fingers fidgeting with the knot of his tie, loosening and tightening it. His outfit was simple and smart today. His father's button-up with a red tie, a grey pinstripe waistcoat and matching trousers. The black leather of his oxfords had been polished earlier in the morning. He felt antsy, just wanting to get this luncheon over with. He shouldn’t have told you that Grandma’am wanted this, he must have been out of his mind when he did.

“Coriolanus my boy,” Grandma’am had snuck up behind him, making him jump as she put her hands on his shoulders. “You look as handsome as always, you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

His smile was weak in the mirror, not reaching his eyes. “Thank you Grandma’am.” She fiddled with the shoulder of his shirt, lining it up properly as it had been moved from his walking around.

“You must really love her if it’s got you like this.”

“I do.” The words were heavy. This was the first time he had acknowledged his feelings for you to another person. The vulnerability threatened to consume him.

“I’m glad,” her eyes became teary as she spoke. “Your mother loved your father so much. I remember their wedding day. She was so nervous, running around like a rabbit. You remind me of her sometimes.” she threw her hands up like the statement was outlandish. “But of course, you’re more like your father than anything else. Strong Coriolanus Snow.”

They rarely talked about his parents, or Tigris’ parents, like this. It was easier for them all to let the dead stay dead. A bittersweet ache spread through him.

“I’m glad.” He reached out and took Grandma's hand, offering her some comfort. Talking about her dead children always set her off. They stood in silence for a beat, hand in hand, each processing their own feelings before he shattered the quiet.

“It’s easier to let the dead stay dead.”

Grandma’am nodded, her handkerchief to her eye to clean up the tears she had spilt. “Sometimes,” she acknowledges, “the past is too painful to revisit. But it’s important to remember Coriolanus. To remember the love, the laughter, the life that was lived. To honour those who came before you.”

But he didn’t want to remember the past. The past made everything worse.

The ring of the elevator cut the conversation short. You were here, and he was nervous. This was no different than a public event, you both knew the parts to play, but it was so different at the same time. You were in his family home, eating with him and his Grandma’am, and doing it purely because you thought she deserved to think someone loved him. Doing it because you cared for her. It was here that his history echoed, ghosts of the past hanging on every wall. Remnants of the boy he once was tucked away in boxes, now dusty with age.

As the elevator doors opened, revealing you standing there, those boxes came out of storage and were placed on the table for you to sort through.

“Oh! Miss Gaul! Please come in.” Grandma’am rushed towards you, excited to have you over.

“Grandma’am,” you chided, pulling her into a hug. She had shrunk in her old age and your heels didn’t help the equation, making you bend down to do so. “I’ve told you a thousand times to call me Y/N. Plus soon enough I’ll Mrs. Snow.”

“I know, I know, I just forget sometimes. Perhaps I should just call you Mrs. Snow!”

“Now I think that’s a wonderful idea!” You took a second to greet Coriolanus with a kiss and then went back to chatting with Grandma’am taking her hands in your own.

You were so delicate with her, it pained him to watch you be so kind to her. You nodded along diligently to whatever she said and were actively engaging in the conversation. He could tell that you weren’t pretending to care and that you actually wanted to speak with his grandmother. She was so animated with you like years had been removed from her. He had spent so long trying to protect her from all that had happened, and all that he had done. His actions had severed parts of their relationship, and with Tigris not living in the apartment anymore, she must have grown lonely. But you brought her back, the vibrant woman who could connect with the world.

Coriolanus sidled up to you, arm wrapping around your waist. “I hate to interrupt your conversation ladies, but I do believe Y/N came here for lunch.” It felt so right to have you like this.

“Yes, yes, Coriolanus,” Grandma’am started, “I’ll go make sure the cook has prepared everything. Why don't you show Y/N into the dining room.”

“Of course, Grandma’am.”

Alone, he nipped at your ear, his breath making your heart skip a beat. His hands were warm, one placed on your stomach the the other on your arm. You could smell the mint on his breath when he uttered a whisper in your ear, his voice low and husky. “You look stunning today.”

You were wearing all black today, something that went against the average Capitol woman. It was a high neck mini dress, stopping a few inches above your knee. The sleeves were long, longer than your hands and instead of normal holes, the fabric was spliced up to your elbow. Your heels were lower than they normally were from press events, no doubt more comfortable. The splash of colour came from your earrings. They were red, with a velvety coating on them, and shaped like rose petals separated and hung on a chain. You had remembered Grandma’am’s love of roses.

“It’s not for you, you know.” you took every opportunity to tease him. “But thank you.”

You had no idea what you did to him. “If it were for me it’d be on the floor by now.”

“Well then, it’s a good thing this is for Grandma’am and not you.” You patted his cheek. “Now are you going to show me to the dining room Coriolanus?” When you said his name you mirrored the way his Grandma’am said it.

A crooked grin rose on his face with a small laugh. “With pleasure, my dear,” he replied biting your ear again before leading you through the grand hallways of the apartment. His hand never left your back until you were sat down. You were on Coriolanus’ right, with his chair being at the head of the table.

The table was smaller than the average dining room table in the Capitol, unsurprising given the number of Snow family members there were left. It looked to seat about 10 people maximum. It was a dark-stained wood, a style that was popular in the prewar days. The walls were a pale blue, covered in a patterned wallpaper. The signature tile flooring of the apartment was carried into the dining room, laid in a geometric style with the table in the centre. It was all a testament to the family’s long history and enduring presence in the Capitol, a microcosm of the Capitol itself.

“Have you told her about the dinner?”

“No I haven’t had a chance yet-”

“What dinner?” Grandma’am sauntered into the room, waiting for Coriolanus to pull out her seat so she could sit. “The cook prepared quite a  lunch today,” she listed out the menu after she sat down, Coriolanus returning to his own seat, arms resting on the table.

“That all sounds wonderful Grandma’am. Corio’s told me how wonderful your chef is.”

“Yes, I do agree. It took me ages to find one that I liked, so many of them are lacklustre these days.”

“Well I hope my family’s chef won't disappoint you then.” you grabbed his hand on the table. “My father wanted me to invite you to a family dinner on Friday evening. It’s just a small get-together to introduce everyone to each other properly. After all, we’ll be one family soon.

“Oh, that is a wonderful idea! I’ve always had such admiration for your father’s interior design work.” Grandma’am's voice faded out for Coriolanus as she spoke. Rambling about how your father had ‘brought back the elegance of the Capitol’ through his job. Coriolanus was focused on one thing.

You were wearing the ring. He had gone in between rings for what felt like a millennium till settling on a custom made. It was reminiscent of the one he remembered his mother wearing, covered in diamonds and made of gold. Your was made of platinum, far more durable than gold and less like the be damaged by your time in the labs and only plated in gold. The centre stone was large, 1.5 carats, an emerald cut diamond. The style of the ring was similar to an ornate mirror. There were 22 stones in total, each one glittering from the chandelier's light. He hadn't stopped with just the one ring either, he needed to decorate you in the finest jewels he could buy with the Plinth family fortune. That's why your index finger had a stack of thinner, geometric, stack complimenting the engagement ring.

It thrilled him. Wedding rings were no more than a shackle connecting you to him. A show of his authority over you. Marrying you wasn’t about companionship, it was to own you. To change your last name to his own and let everyone know that he would never leave you alone. Maybe he’d let you hyphenate your last name, and you’d like that, it went against the norm.

His thumb rubbed against his own engagement ring. His was simpler, he didn’t enjoy the over-the-top couture and showmanship of the Capitol, a think gold plated platinum band with a matching kite cut diamond flush set into it. The kite shape echoed by etchings around the placement. You had picked the ring out for him after seeing your own, saying that you wanted it to match with yours. It was ironic that you chose a kite shape. They flew high in the sky, a symbol of freedom and soaring ambition.

The luncheon was nice, you had to admit. You didn’t have a living grandmother and it was nice to talk with Grandma’am as you ate. She kept telling stories of Coriolanus’ youth, much to his chagrin. The stories, and how he treated her, were different than what you had expected. He was cold towards Tigris, but he had so much warmth towards Grandma’am. What had happened between the two that caused a rift? Grandma’am spoke as if the two had been thick as thieves growing up.

When the plates were cleared, you joined Grandma’am in the kitchen as she made coffee for the two of you, Coriolanus somewhere in the apartment answering a message on his communicuff. You had offered to do it but she insisted on doing it herself, telling you that the machine was too complicated for a guest to use. But you know exactly how to use it, but that was a secret.

When she sat across from you, both your mugs steaming, her eyes were sombre. “Can you be honest with a foolish old woman?”

“I don’t see any old women here, but I can be honest.” her chuckle was wethered and dry, telling of someone who had lived through too much.

“I know my Coriolanus is a difficult man,” she always insisted on using his full name. “He’s much like his father in that regard, and I would know having raised them both. But you’re good for him. When I see him with you it's like all the horrible things he had to live through are forgotten, and that he’s that smiling boy  running around the apartment with his mother chasing after him again.” Grandma’am’s voice broke as the spoke, teetering on the edge of crying.

You grabbed her hand and squeezed it. She loved him so much.

“I love him Grandma’am, I really do.” candour in every word you spoke. “With him, I feel like I can do anything, be anything. Sometimes I think it’s all too good to be true and that one day I’ll wake up and this was all a dream that I had. Every day I pinch myself to make sure it's still real.”

“Will you always?” 

“There’s no future in which I don’t love him. He’s my now and always. And even if one day we weren’t together anymore, I’d still love him and I’d still support him. Just like he’d do the same for me.”

As you spoke Grandma’am’s tears flowed freely, but they weren’t tears of sadness, they were tears of gratitude. She saw in you that she didn’t have to worry anymore, that someone other than her would love him unconditionally. Be a sanctuary to his troubled heart.

“Thank you.” as the older woman bawled you got up to hug her, rubbing her back as she sobbed.

Coriolanus had heard the whole thing but he couldn’t tell if you had said it for her or it was a confession of your true feelings. You were always perfect at playing your part.

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[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!!!

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