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honeyedmiller · 2 months

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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

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satubby · 6 months

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◇Yandere Concept◇

•○ 《Ryu Shi-Oh》 ○•

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

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

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

》☆ Obsession:

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

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

》☆ Obsessive Control:

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

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

》☆ Dark Gifts:

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

》☆ Intense Jealousy:

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

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

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

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

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

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

》☆ Demonstrations of Power:

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

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

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

》☆ Hidden Insecurities:

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

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

》☆ Future plans:

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

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

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

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

》☆ Violence as a last resort:

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

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

》☆ NSFW

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

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

》☆ In the end, you will end up tired but satisfied (Unless you have done wrong and Ryu is angry when making love, there it is not smooth and he could even take it out on you due to his jealousy) Afterwards, the care he gives you is soft and sensual, always apologizing for breaking some bones.

In general, having a yandere like him can be a double-edged sword. Ryu Shi-oh can be so kind or cruel depending on your reactions and treatment towards him. It's like swimming on nails, you have to watch where you're going or you'll end up getting hurt.

This is all independent of the K-drama "Nam soon Super Strong Girl" since it is merely my interpretation of this beautiful villain who, from my perspective, didn't deserve so much pain even though he brought it on himself in the end.

[For those anons who asked me for something, I promise that as soon as I get my ideas together I will start writing because I am a mess at this. I could barely do anything right with this yandere concept.]

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sstan-hoe · 2 months

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𝑷𝒂𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒛𝒛𝒊

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — actor!aemond targaryen × fem!reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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rooftopbeliver · 10 months

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┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　　° CILLIAN MURPHY x f! reader

┊age gap ; fluff ; cillian is so babygirl

. . .

YOU were getting ready for an oppenheimer premiere; it was your first time being by his side in public. it makes you happy that you can finally announce to the world that cillian is your boyfriend. it was controversial because of the age gap you guys have because you were in your late twenties, and he is in his late forties. for you, it wasn't a problem, obviously, but you know how people would react. but you didn’t care; cillian makes you the happiest person in the world, and people’s opinions cannot change it.

“you look beautiful.” you heard cillian’s voice behind you and smiled at his compliment. even if the dress were from a thrift store, you loved it, and in your opinion, it was the perfect outfit for this movie.

“thank you, darling, you look so handsome,” you said, turning to him and smiling. cillian was wearing a black suit with a sheer shirt. he was looking too good in this outfit.

he just chuckled, put his arm around your waist, and kissed your lips. cillian was admiring everything in you — he cannot imagine his life without you innit. he loved how humbled you were and how positive you were always, even if circumstances didn’t make you the happiest. but most of all, he loved that you made him feel young again.

and you were admiring everything about him. you loved how clueless he could be when it came to technology and trends; it was always so funny and sweet to you. you loved how he cared about his sons and his friends. he was your dream man and your safe person. he never judged you or the things you did; he was understanding and caring.

“are you stressed?” his question woke you up from daydreaming.

“to be honest, i am not. i know that people are going to talk about us, but i don’t care. it’s your day, and i want to celebrate with you,” you simply said, kissing his nose with a smile.

. . .

STANDING among all the celebrities and paparazzi, you started to feel anxious, even if you thought that you would be fine. cillian felt how your hand clenched on his arm. he kissed your temple and whispered some words that made you feel better. you weren’t a celebrity, so it’s obvious that you didn't feel comfortable and confident in this kind of situation, but you were dating an actor, so you needed to get used to it.

when the time for photos came, you stepped on the black carpet. you weren’t hiding that you weren't feeling the most comfortable posing for photos. but when cillian told you to look at him and not at the paparazzi, you felt a little better seeing him smiling. you were so proud.

people were a bit surprised that cillian showed up with a woman next to him, but they didn’t scream hateful comments, but the opposite. they complimented your look; you could even hear comments like, ‘she is so beautiful’ ‘wish i was her’ etc.

after done the all photos you leave the carpet happily smiling. it felt nice made your relationship public and it was comforting that people weren’t hateful about your relationship.

“you have done so well, love. i love you so much,” cillian said, kissing your lips. he doesn’t care about people around anymore.

yes, you are the happiest person in the world right now.

- ͙۪۪̥˚┊❛ thank you for attention!! ❜┊˚ ͙۪۪̥◌

#cillian murphy #imagines #actors #cillian murphy x reader #x female reader #reqs open #oppenheimer #premiere #red carpet #oppenheimer 2023 #oppenheimer movie #oppenheimer premiere #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy x y/n

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lieutenantfloyd · 10 months

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A few of my favorite photos + gifs of Tom Cruise! ♡

#tom cruise #tom cruise fanfic #tom cruise imagine #tom cruise x reader #tom cruise x female reader #mission impossible #Ethan hunt #actors #tom cruise icons #top gun #top gun maverick #pete Mitchell #pete maverick mitchell

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writing-for-marvel · 1 year

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Everyone’s Watching Him (But He’s Looking At Her) Series Masterlist

Warnings: body insecurity and mention of reader sucking her stomach in, idiots in love, shy & insecure reader, anxiety around being in crowds, hurt comfort, crossing Bucky’s boundaries (not reader), soft fluff, jealousy, miscommunication, angst, implied sex

Main Masterlist | Ask me anything! | Taglist | Library

Actor!Bucky Barnes x Assistant!Fem!Reader

Summary: The entire world’s eyes are on movie star Bucky Barnes, what he’s wearing, who he’s dating, even the mystery behind why he needs a prosthetic arm - but Bucky doesn’t care about all that, he’s only got one thing on his mind, you.

Series Completed: 6th February 2023

Part One (1.2k)

Part Two (2.4k)

Part Three (4.6k)

Part Four (4.0k)

Part Five (1.9k)

Moodboard by @treatbuckywkisses

#em writes #masterlist #Bucky #Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes x reader #bucky barnes masterlist #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au #Sebastian Stan #sebastian stan characters #actor!bucky barnes #actor!bucky

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jamneuromain · 2 months

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🧚🏻‍♀️✨Bippity boppity bow chicka wow oww! You’ve been visited by the Shameless Hoe Fairy, and now you must share a hoe drabble about:

Ari + chest hair + purring like a cat

Thank you dear Hoe Fairy<3

Damn! Ari with his chest hair... a hell of a combination that I can't resist

I present to you:

Lazy Morning

Warning: Dub-con (since they are married); Actor!Ari Levinson, somno, oral (mentioned just a little), fingering, p in v, fluff and smut.

W/C: ~1.5K

A/N: ...shit I totally forgot about the chest hair part

A Work in Progress Masterlist

"And the Oscar goes to -" The host paused dramatically, before opening the envelop in his hand and pulling out the sheet of paper that contained the name of the winner for tonight.

"-Ari Levinson, from The Feud!"

The first action, out of sheer surprise, was to look into your soft eyes. Ari saw you gasp and cover your mouth in shock, when your eyes dampened in happiness.

He headed to the stage after kissing and hugging you, shaking hands along the way.

"... I want to thank the director Frank Adler, and our team for making The Feud to happen." He choked on his words, on your name, tears rolled heavy beneath his eyelids, "And to my beautiful wife. You mean the world to me. I love you."

...

Your wet mouth engulfed him inch by inch. Words were a slur of moaning coming out of his lips.

"F-Fuck, honey-"

His cock reached the back of your throat. So soft. So warm.

"Feels good, baby?" You whispered in your sultry voice, "Come down my throat. I want to taste you..."

His hand grabbed the back of your neck, pushing you down on his cock. Pushing you down until he was fully seated in your mouth. Until he was on the verge of exploding-.

The sun peeked through the window and the slim creek of the curtains, landing on his skin.

Among the soft incessant buzz of his phone, the faintest of stirring of you in his arms, and the sun, he woke up from slumber.

It took him a moment to recall his memories from last night. Last night was a combination of alcohol, chatting up, and tiring ceremonies.

Right. Ceremony. The Oscar.

Ari scratched his bearded chin. He might have a little problem distinguishing reality from his dream.

The ceremony and the speech, that he remembered. But the fact that you were fully clothed in pyjamas reminded him that the blurry vision he just had - the one where you took him in your mouth - was a dream.

He sighed softly into the back of your neck. The afterparty lasted until three in the morning, and both of you had been too tired to do anything besides getting ready for bed in the early hours. Which led to the fact that he was hard as fuck, and there was nothing he could do about it while you were still sleeping.

You were practically glowing in your sleep, which could be the sun kissing your skin, but still, glowing, peaceful, and he could not believe his luck, marrying you and spending the rest of his life with you.

... on second thought, maybe there was something he could do about it while you were sleeping.

Ari shamelessly slipped his hand beneath your sleeping shorts, prying it down in slow motion, until it was pulled to your knees. His fingers danced around your entrance, carefully rubbing your pussy lips and capturing your clit between his fingers.

You let out a small whine in your sleep, your back pressed to his front a little tighter.

Slick began to gather at his fingertips as he continued his motion of rubbing circles at your most sensitive parts. Ari couldn't help himself but murmur by your ears. He knew you couldn't hear in your dreams, but that didn't stop him from whispering, "So wet for me, honey. I bet you want this as much as I do, yeah?"

As if you could hear him, your walls convulsed and your thighs tightened, before your knee moved higher up on the bed, as if you were granting him access in your sleep.

"Honey..." He murmured, his gaze unwavering, landing on your slick-coated pussy, "if I didn't know any better, I'd say you're awake and wanting. Such a pretty invitation for me, won't you say?"

He pumped his shaft with the slick on his fingers. The tip slowly sunk itself into your velvety walls, as he grunted due to the tightness.

"Fuck, honey, fuck." Ari panted into your neck. His lips pressed into your soft and smooth skin, trailing his kiss to the point where your neck met your shoulder.

You mewled, clawing his arm that circled your waist, moaning in your sleep: "Ari..."

"Yes, honey, I'm right - umph - here." Ari pushed himself all the way in, his legs wedged between your knees, forcing them to open wide as he bottomed out.

"Ari...?" Your eyelashes batted before blinking your eyes open. Half of your consciousness still drowning in the peaceful sleep you had, and the other half bathing in the wet dream - the wet reality where you woke up with the twisted coil of desire burning in your guts.

The thought of your husband taking you in your sleep only added fuel to the fire. You can feel your pussy clenched down hard on his thick cock when his slow but hard thrust hurt your cervix in the most delicious way possible.

A throaty moan was pushed out of your lips when another thrust rearranged your insides. Your hand clung to the iron clad he had to your waist, preventing yourself from slamming into the headboard.

"Love you so much, honey," He groaned loudly as your body responded to him by moving along the rhythm he set. The filthy squelch as your dripping pussy took all of him in hungrily, pounding the life out of you.

You chanted his name like a prayer when he had you come on his cock, when his cum pumped into you, coating your walls with his spend.

Catching your breath and your mind gradually, your fingers intertwined with his, before turning your head and looking his way: "For a second, I thought it was my birthday."

Ari huffed out a laugh. His beard scratched your jaw as he kissed every inch of your skin he could reach. With the morning sex as a wake-up call, he sure could turn this into a habit for your mutual celebrations. A small smile crept up his lips as he spoke, "I think we have some left-over pie in the fridge, 'course we could make it your birthday."

His phone buzzed again, making him curse under his breath.

"Take it." You teased him softly, tapping your knuckle on his chest, "Otherwise the headline tomorrow would be The Disappearance of Oscar-winner Ari Levinson."

Ari reached his long arm to grab his phone. Scamming through the messages and phone calls, he picked a few to answer briefly before tossing his phone aside, burying his face into your neck, and inhaling deeply.

In a few hours, he would have an interview with Variety, and later iMDb. After that, he would be shipped off to Norway via airplane for his new movie which still needed a few weeks in a god-forsaken forest. While you too had your work later tonight, he couldn't help but ask, "Can you stay with me before I go?"

"Sure." You combed through his hair with your fingers. He grew his hair and beard for his new caveman movie in Norway, and now he was fuzzy all over. Sometimes you wonder whether you have a man for your husband, or that he is merely a werebear that loves to pin you under with his weight, "how much time do we have before you go?"

"My flight takes off at 4:45pm." He grumbled into your neck, "Four, five hours...? When are you needed for work?"

You turned to look at him, "Five-ish."

"Good." His hand splayed possessively over your stomach, "That means we can spend some more time on..." He squeezed your tummy suggestively, "celebration."

You could practically imagine him wiggling his eyebrows as he said so. Chuckling, you placed his hands where they needed to be - your spine, "Celebration should wait," you laid comfortably on your stomach, "someone isn't getting any celebration until they fix my waist - bending me around and all that."

Ari sighed in defeat and started working on the stiff muscles on your back - the fact that he did bend your legs in your sleeping form left him speechless and somewhat embarrassed for springing out on you.

With his magical hands doing their best, it was not long until you started humming in content, and his dick twitched in excitement.

His hands began to descend lower and lower, closer to your ass every time he massaged your back.

"You know, I think the massage would perform one hundred percent if you take your sleeping shirt off." His hand glided dangerously close to your core, before shifting his position and muttering by your ear.

"God, you're awful." A breathy groan left your lips as the knots on your back untwined.

"Too bad, you're not going anywhere," Ari lowered himself to kiss your bare back - this smooth bastard had just flipped your sleeping shirt upwards to grant himself better access, "Mrs. Levinson."

#ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x you #ari levinson x female reader #ari levinson fanfiction #ari levinson fluff #Actor!Ari Levinson #Entertainment AU #the red sea diving resort #ari levinson smut #ari levinson

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the-traveling-poet · 1 month

Text

Coffee Shop

The day had finally arrived; in which you would meet your idol for a late lunch at a local cafè. And what a head rush just the idea of such a thing gave you.

Amidst the not so subtle interrogation and polite pleasantries passed back and forth between the two of you over tea, the spark that had started this whole ordeal grew into that of a flame.

A flame he seemed to take and run with…

Pairing: Actor!Levi x Fan!reader

Warnings: modern!au, language, fluff

Taglist: @21aurora @deepzombieyouth @braunsbabe @pelicanpizza (if you’d like added to the taglist for Levi Fic updates, just DM me!)

A/N: The long (somewhat maybe?) awaited pt. 3, finally posted!

I took much, much longer in completing this than I wanted to. But life happens; losses, injuries, illnesses, grievances…the list goes on. But since my motivation came back, I’ve returned to my most passionate hobby; writing Levi fanfiction. I would have finished this sooner but the added feature of the BOOP got me distracted for a full 24hrs lmao.

In this fic, I added in my own mix of hc’s for the sake of modern!au, and Levi’s a little OOC but…It’s a modern AU and I can do what I want :p

So without further ado, enjoy!~

Pt. 1 | Pt. 2

The day had come….

Steeling your nerves, you took in a deep breath and exhaled it slowly. The door stood closed before you, and only a gentle tug would open it up to the cafè inside; yet you paused with your hand hovering over the silver handle.

You’d already peered through the shop’s windows to see if he was here yet, and concluded he wasn’t. And with the lack of some shiny, expensive looking car parked near the curb out front, you figured you’d beat him here. You were early, after all. So why couldn’t you just make yourself go in and have a seat?

Relax, you thought to yourself as you finally grasped the handle in the palm of your hand. You’ve gotten this far already, you can’t mess this up…

Walking into the rather aesthetic looking cafè, you looked around with bated breath. The cafè was small, but very pleasing to the eye; menu boards written in cursive print above polished countertops, floors spotless and organized, windows without a single speck upon them.

Even the scarce customers sat strewn about the tables seemed poised and of a higher class than you were used to seeing on a daily basis.

Suddenly, you felt just a tad under dressed.

Shaking the thoughts away, your eyes continued to study the room around you, until you were met with the steady gaze of a man sat a table at the back wall of the cafè. And oh, how those silver eyes always managed to captivate your entire attention; in person even more so than from through a screen.

Stiffening your posture where you stood, you shook yourself out of your daze with a mental slap in the face.

“Shit…” you whispered, shuffling your feet forward to approach his table. Of course he would be early and beat you…to being early.

Once you stood only a foot away from his table, Levi took a stand. After subtly looking you up and down, he reached out and pushed back the chair opposite him and gave you room to take a seat, after silently motioning to hang your coat up on the back of your chair for you.

With a whispered thank you, you shrugged off your coat and let him place it on the back of your chair before scooting you forward and then returning to his own seat.

“You’re early,” you blurted out after he sat, still in a bit of a daze.

“I’m always early; though, I’m surprised to see you’re twenty minutes early. I’m impressed.” He commented softly, keeping his gaze firmly fixed on your ever shifting eyes.

Once you managed to hold eye contact with him, you noticed the worn leather jacket hanging off the back of his chair, contrasting the grey turtleneck shirt he wore. The look was quite dashing on him, and you had to refrain yourself from blurting out this observation.

“You’re extra early,” you pointed out, taking a moment to look out the window to your right.

“I didn’t see any overly expensive cars outside, so I had assumed I’d beaten you here.”

“I always am. And, didn’t drive my car,” he answered plainly as he too looked out the window. Before you could ask, he was already pointing to a sight just near the curb. Perched on its stand near the window was a bike; sleek black and shining in the dull spring sunlight.

“That’s the bike you drive?” You nearly gasped, ogling over the bike. Sure, you’d learned enough about him from your obsessive research to know he rode. But never once had you seen the actual bike he owned.

“No, stole it from a man a couple blocks back.” Levi scoffed, but not aggressively so. When you looked back over at him, he seemed more curious than sarcastic when he looked over at you from the corner of his eye as he continued to face the window.

“Though, I never told you I rode.”

Realizing you’d soon be found out about your obsession into his personal life, you decided to downplay the fact you knew with an absent smile.

“Oh…well, you mentioned it once or twice in interviews. I’d never seen the bike itself, though.”

“I seldom post to my socials, unless one of the guys naggs me to,” he shrugged, picking up a menu off the table previously stacked by the rack of simple condiments lining a thin rack at one edge of the table.

“You seem more informed about me than I had assumed you’d be. Are you one of those fans who obsessed over and took to heart every interview and discarded show clip they can get their hands on?”

Gulping down you nerves, you hastily waved your hand in a dismissive manner.

“Oh pftt, no. I just…liked the show a lot, and had some free time to binge its content.”

He regarded you with a deadpan expression, as though not fully buying your half truth. But after raising a brow, he seemed content to let the matter sit.

“Well, either way, it’s nice to be out of the spotlight for a bit and unwind. I’m still surprised with myself that I gave my number out to a fan, but…I can’t say I regret it after this past week. You’re entertaining.”

“Is…is that a compliment? Or should I take offense to being generalized?” You smiled, also picking up a menu to look through.

“Which would you prefer?” He hummed, already seeming to have decided what he wanted, as he folded his menu back up and set it aside.

“I’ll take it as a compliment. A compliment from my favorite actor seems nice,” you hummed, beginning to loosen up a little more now that conversation had moved along.

Levi only hummed thoughtfully, peering over the top of your menu to see your crinkled eyes as you scanned along the cursive print. Unbeknownst to you, he made sure.

By the time you decided and set the menu aside, a waitress came along to jot down your orders. Listing off the tea and pastry you desired, you glanced back at Levi, who had yet to speak.

“I’ll take the black tea. No sweeteners, please. Thank you,” he said softly, briefly looking up at the waitress with a nod.

The waitress sent him a dazzling smile, loitering by the table a moment longer than was needed, before scurrying off towards the kitchens behind the front counter. With a snort, Levi resumed his attention towards you.

“I have a funny feeling there’s not much about me you don’t know. Am I right? You seem the type to do your research.”

He murmured, propping his chin onto his hand as he leaned ever so slightly closer across the table towards you, with his elbow supporting him on the table top.

Blushing, you opted to stare down at the napkin holder to your right.

“That-that may not be true-“

“How old am I?” He interrupted, with a brow ever so slightly raised in amusement.

“Twenty five…but that’s common knowledge to anyone who has access to Wikipedia.”

You huffed, crossing your arms as you defended yourself.

“I suppose so. That was a silly thing to ask…alright then, I’ll test you further; what was my favorite shoot?”

“The ‘Royal Government arc’,” you answered immediately. Too fast, you realized, only a moment too late.

“Alright then, something not related to the show…What’s my cat’s name?”

“Eros,” you sighed, already knowing you’d lost. “But to be fair, you’ve brought up your cat numerous times in interviews-“

“Keep digging sweetheart, you’re just burying yourself further here,” he hummed, a hint of a smile pulling at the corner of his lips.

“Alright, alright…So I may have gotten a little obsessed.” You murmured, feeling your cheeks burn a tad hotter than before as you finally admitted to his claims.

“To the show, or my character? Better yet, perhaps me?” He lifted his elbow off of the table and leaned back in his chair with crossed arms. And for a moment, you could have sworn he was teasing you. It worked in flustering you, if that had been his angle. But before you could finish stuttering out a response to his cocky claims, he flashed a minuet smile your way.

“I suppose you do know quite a lot about me, so I’ll ask my own questions. Ones I didn’t ask over the phone already.” He stated calmly as his boot nudged your foot under the table.

Ceasing your poor attempt to stutter out any form of defense, you nodded with an embarrassed sigh.

"Alright, that sounds fair." You murmured, mentally bracing yourself for any kind of question he might throw your way.

Seeing your compliance, he started firing off his own questions.

It nearly felt like an interrogation; like last weeks interview role’s had been switched on you. Only, he wasn’t so shy in asking what he pleased.

Your place of employment, your college major, your pastimes, family, social life. Hell, he even asked for your favorite arcs in the show and which of the scenes he starred in you liked the most.

By the end of it, you’d relaxed significantly and opened up more than you had expected to. And in turn, he became a tad more expressive himself.

“Ever rode a bike?” He asked after finishing his cup of tea, with his unoccupied arm resting over the back of his chair as he raised a brow. His sudden curiosity threw you off a bit.

After calming down from a fit of giggles from his previous question, you raised a brow his way.

“No, I cant say I have.”

With a tilt of his head he regarded you curiously, as though coming to a a silent decision with himself. After a brief span of silence he sighed and placed his hands in his lap.

“Well…Perhaps I could make an exception and allow you to ride with me. I could use a backpack.”

“An exception? To what rule?” Furrowing your brows, you regarded him curiously.

A backpack? What rules?

Hiding his slight smirk with a tilt of his head, he replied; “The rule I have against anyone touching my bike. I’d hate for it to get dirtied or scratched, but I’m sure you’ll be carful.”

“You’re asking me if I’d like a ride?” You murmured, suddenly feeling as allert as you had the moment you wanking into the cafè. With a nod, he confirmed your suspicions.

“On your bike?” You asked, incredulously.

“Unless there’s something else of mine you’d like to ride?” He replied with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. Though after just a moment, he cleared his throat and looked away.

“I’m sorry, that was a bit…abrasive.”

“No! I-Id love to!” You grinned, unable to help but stare once more out the window towards his bike as you discreetly hid your blush.

“I’d be down for any kind of ride.”

Now it was his turn to appear surprised and maybe a tad flustered, for the first time this afternoon. He opened his mouth, then abruptly closed it; eyes darting about the table between you. Suddenly, two feet of table never felt so far of a distance before.

With a grunt he stood, taking his jacket in hand as he reached into his left pocket.

“Well then, unless you have plans this afternoon…My bike and I are free.”

Biting at your lip, you also stood.

“No, I’m free. If…If you’re offering.”

“I was under the impression I was doing more than that?” He grumbled back in responce as he fumbled out his wallet. Catching his movement, you went to do the same. That is, until his slender fingers wrapped around your wrist at your waist to stop you.

“Ah ah, I proposed this meet up. The least I could do is pay.” He scoffed, a click of his tongue to follow. Though you attempted to disagree, he placed your hand holding your wallet back into your back pocket; much to your stunned surprise.

“I’ve got it,” he whispered, placing down a check on the table top. Only seconds later, you found yourself standing outside near the curb, watching him mount his bike. And oh, what a sight that was.

Unexpectedly he pulled out a secondary helmet, similar in appearance to his own. Taking is hesitantly, you fumbled with the chin straps as you took a step closer to the bike as it roared to life.

“You just carry around a second helmet?” You questioned uncertainly as he reached out his hand to you.

“No…Stopped by a store before arriving here,” He mumbled, his voice becoming more muffled as he adjusted his own helmet. Swallowing down your growing nerves and hiding a grin behind the helmet, you allowed his hand to guide you into the spot just behind him.

Suddenly, he revved the engine, causing you to startle, only slightly. One look around the smaller bike showed you there were no handle bars to hold onto, causing your eyes to flick to his expectantly.

Oh shit…

“Well? Hold on, else you’ll go flying off the back.” He rolled his eyes before pulling down the visor of his helmet and slipping on a pair of leather gloves. Doing the same, you gave a nervous nod.

Hesitantly you reached out, your arms barely grazing his sides as color filled out your cheeks. With the noise of the bike revving, you missed the way he groaned to himself.

“Fuck’s sake…”

Suddenly the bike jolted forward, sending you crashing forward into his back with a muffled gasp of shock.

Behind the tinted visor, Levi allowed himself a smirk and a satisfied hum, as he used one of his gloved hands to hold yours into place at his abdomen.

“Like I said; hold on, stubborn brat,” he called out, barely turning his head to see you. Though you couldn’t make out every feature of his face through the shield, you gave a shaky chuckle and nodded back; tightening your grip around his middle. He was quick to look away, before fumbling with the kickstand and shifted gears a second time.

As he skillfully merged into the lane, you raised your chin up just slightly over his shoulder.

“Where are we going?” You called over the wind as it gradually picked up speed.

“I figured around a couple blocks; unless you have another idea?” He called back, still able to hear you surprisingly well.

You thought on this a moment, before an idea struck you. Humorously, you called back.

“Well, unless you have another photoshoot this evening, there is a nice city park a few blocks up.”

You never heard a response from him, until he pulled you both up pulled to a stop light. He raised the visor of his helmet after putting down his kickstand once more and raised a brow over his shoulder towards you.

“A park, huh? I can do that…but I’m taking the longer route.”

“The longer route?” You questioned uncertainly.

“The highway, yes. Wouldn’t you like for first ride to be memorable?” His eyes seemed to sparkle as he spoke.

“So long as you don’t kill us,” came your mumbled responce. Yet he seemed to hear it, as he only rolled his eyes.

“Don’t you fret, princess. I wouldn’t let my first ever passenger fall off or become injured. Cant let our first date become our last.”

“First date?”

He merely chuckled at your sudden squeak as he turned to face you better.

“Unless you’d rather not call it that. Would you rather this be considered a VIP backstage pass?”

Your heart twisted and flipped pleasantly in your chest as you quickly lowered the visor of your helmet once more to hide the expression of bewilderment on your face.

“You’d go on a date with a fan?” You managed to croak out just as the light turned green.

Tugging down his own visor once more and lifting the stand, he hummed thoughtfully before reviving the bike.

“I gave my number to one, didn’t I?”

Holding your hand tight to his chest, he used his free hand to push forward, rushing through traffic as you gradually increased speeds. All the while his hand stayed on top of yours, until the need to pull away became undismissible.

And you didn’t dare to let go. Not now, nor ever. Especially if he was promising a second date…

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k4mm · 9 months

Text

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲, 𝐒𝐞𝐭, 𝐀𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.

☆ - Fem Actor Reader X Tom Kaulitz

warnings : smut + maybe some degrading

☆ —— ——————————— ——

Tears in my eyes as I looked up at him, I reached out for his cheek. He sniffled, looking down at me, his hand on my cheek aswell.

“Do you really have to go?” My cheeks warm, my thumb rubbing over his lip. His breath hitched and he nodded slowly, kissing my forehead.

“I’m sorry, I have no choice.” He said, I could feel his warm tears falling onto my face.

“I wanna hold you in my arms one last time.” My voice shook and my heart heavy, and a lump in my throat.

“I wanna feel your lips one last time.” He croaked out, leaning down and kissing my lips. “I love you,” he said in between.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him close. And sinking into the kiss, “I’ll always love you,”

“SCENE,” The director yelled out.

I let out a sigh of relief as I threw my arms down to my sides and started to walk away from the green screen, wiping my lips.

“We might have to reshoot that later.” The director said, I grimaced and furrowed my brows, looking at Tom. He shot me the same disgusted look,

“Can we get a break first?” He groaned out, I rolled my eyes. The director let out a sigh and looked at the crew, before looking back at us and shrugging.

“Fine,” He breathed, “take five.”

I watched Tom disappear, removing my gaze from him and to the camera, “Could I watch a short clip?” I asked my director.

“Always,” He said, bringing the camera close to my face and clicking play.

I watched how we touched each other and listened to our dialogue. Soon I decided to pause the recordings and take a break, walking away from the set. I felt my head pound when I arrived to my room, jiggling the doorknob to enter. I yawned and shut the door slowly, walking to the sofa infront of me afterwards. I laid my head down on my shoulder and let out a long sigh,

“Are you comfortable?” He smirked, I shot up from the sofa immediately, staring right into his naked torso

“What are you doing in my room?” I questioned him, clenching my fists as I glared at him.

“No, what are you doing in MY room?” He glared back

“I think you’re on something, this is MY room.”

“You’re mistaken, it’s my room.”

“I think you’re the mistaken one,” I mumbled, lowering my head to take a quick glance at his abs.

“What was that?” I could see him smirking as he watched my eyes move down.

“I said it’s my room,” I stuttered

“No, I heard something else.” He took a few steps closer,

“Then maybe you’re just deaf?” I teased him, sweat drops falling down from my forehead as I bit my lip anxiously, still staring down at him.

“I’d agree if you weren’t the one staring.” He said, taking a few more steps closer, making us atleast inches apart.

I couldn’t reply, what was I supposed to say to that? I kept my head down as I thought of what to say until his voice interrupted my thoughts,

“You’re still staring, babe.” I shot my head up to look at him, finding his smirk even larger than before.

“I hate you.”

He roughly grabbed my face, making me look him in the eye, “Really? Doesn’t seem like it.”

“Fuck yourself,”

“Do it for me, yeah?”

I couldn’t help but turn red at his comment and he noticed, bringing our faces even closer.

“You say you hate me, but you blush whenever I’m in your presence.”

My chest felt heavily as he pulled me into a rough, passionate kiss. He held me close with one of his hands attached to my nape, as the other held my face. My hands still on my side as I tilted my head, letting myself melt into the kiss. He brought his hand from my nape and down to my waist, rubbing up and down in between. I felt more secure, letting me lift my arms and place them onto his face, I swear I could feel him smiling as we kissed.

———��———————————————————

part 1 ☆

Request by: @mygirlliddy

——————————————

I’m posting half of it so I don’t keep you waiting, but I’ll get started on part 2 whenever I have the time.

#tom kaulitz #tom kaulitz x reader #tokio hotel #smut #bill kaulitz #georg listing #gustav schäfer #request #x reader #female reader #y/n #x yn #actor #acting #wattpad

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yxami · 1 year

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Since my next work is genshin related , I wanted to feed y’all something yandere if you’re not interested in genshin stuff because my next request after that is yandere but that might take me a bit to finish.

description: yandere actor x fem actor reader, co workers working on a romance series, yandere intended drabble I’ve been thinking abt but never got to until now. If ppl like this then I’ll get more into his yandere habits next part.

Sweat dripped down your face as you heard the familiar stress relieving word “CUT!” You hastily got off of the set and went to your trailer. The scene was finished and you wouldn’t have to be on set until the next one.

You were an actor filming a new romance series between two people with a budding love. It was more focused on dated times rather than something more recent.

That’s why you were out shooting in a village rather than something like the streets of the busy city you lived in. It’s not like you were a busy famous actor or anything, you had decent shootings and movies every now and then. You could say the complete opposite about your co-worker though.

Sirius was a famous actor at his prime, making his way into a lot of shows, movies, anything and everything. He was likely so popular because of his looks, or maybe because of his sickly sweet personality that made anyone fall head over heels in love.

You saw well past that facade though, you knew every actor was a little fake but you never expected somebody like him. He often had what you at first assumed “lovers” come by to his trailer but they were just flings.

He had a tendency to get flirty with the writer of the show, making it easy for him to change anything he wanted about the show. If something didn’t fit his to his liking, he would mold it into something he would.

That’s why you strayed far away as you could from him, as much as you can when you’re so close to him in romantic scenes. You were really pushing your acting skills when you had to feign your love sick puppy eyes to its fullest. It was hard to even act like you loved him.

You honestly wondered why he was being partnered with you and not with a big time female actor as well. There was plenty of other cutely soft looking actors that would fit well with his looks and dominate demeanor. You just wondered why you were being tortured. At least it would get you more opportunities to get into bigger shows with much more pleasant people?

You heard a knock at your trailer door so you put your phone away into your pocket. Opening the door to see who was knocking, you assumed it was someone telling you that your scene was coming up soon.

“Hey love, what are you doing?” It was that familiar cheeky smile that Sirius showed to you often.

“Taking a break, what about you?” You smiled as if this was your lovely co-worker innocently checking up on you. Not someone you were trying to avoid as much as normally possible. You didn’t want to seem like you hated him so you just ran off whenever you could.

“Coming to check up on my favorite! Can I come in?” He held the door open wide so you didn’t have to anymore. Which was a sign itself that he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

“Sure! I wasn’t really doing anything anyways” You backed up to let him inside. Your trailer was cozy, but definitely not as spacious as his trailer. His trailer was giant like he would die without a greedy amount of space being taken.

“What do you think of the romance so far? We’re only 5 episodes in but it’s getting really high ratings! I honestly expected it to get a regular amount, but it might even be getting a season two with the way it’s going!” He gracefully plopped himself on your small couch.

You asked for one to be put in it, incase you wanted to take a small nap during shooting or just wanted to lay down for a bit. It honestly soothed your stress really well. Now the reason for your stress was sitting on it.

“I think it’s good that it’s doing really well, I’m happy people love it” You sat down in the other available seat which was your chair that had a vanity on the desk in front of it. You liked the makeup they put on you for this set. Simple, but very cute.

“Have you seen all the media freak out about our last episode? Apparently that scene at the end had everyone on the edge of their seat because we didn’t actually kiss” Sirius giggled, he always managed to see what his fans were raving about.

“Well yeah, she still isn’t sure whether she should fall for him or not so obviously they wouldn’t kiss right away” You grabbed your chapstick from the desk and applied it quickly. You didn’t want to go out there with chapped lips on set.

“Yeah but don’t you think she should just get over it and get with him already?” He got up and peeked at what you were doing while looking in the mirror. He wondered why you never seemed to look at him while the two of you chatted.

It always seemed like you weren’t interested in talking to him. Even if you smiled and giggled at his jokes. He could tell you weren’t actually enjoying his presence. Maybe that’s why he’s been intrigued and recently started poking at you often to see if you would break and start liking him.

“No, I think her uncertainty is admirable. She’s trying to find out if it’s the best for the two of them, even if it hurts her to push him away.” You admired the character you played because of the way she held herself.

“Hmm, you really seem to take after her” Sirius twirled your hair with his finger, admiring how it coiled around him. He always thought your hair was pretty. Just like your adorable face, you seemed like a cute little thing he could play with until he was bored.

“Really? That’s so sweet of you” You smiled pushing his hand away as nicely as you could. He could tell you didn’t like him being so close if he didn’t need to be. He wondered what it would take for you to fall for him. It seemed like you were certain on keeping him away but he could always handle a challenge.

“How about we go out for dinner after this? I don’t think we’ll be here for too long.” He gave you a little space so you wouldn’t immediately say no like you probably would if he tested your boundaries. He observed you enough to know that you would.

“I’m sure that’ll cause an unneeded scandal if someone were to see us, don’t you think?” You got up from your seat and beamed your innocence. You could tell from his eyes that he wasn’t falling for your little nice act. You hated him, the both of you knew it, and nobody else did. Simple as that.

“Wouldn’t that be interesting to see though? It’ll bring more attention to our series which will likely boost up our views.” He tried explaining it more logically so you wouldn’t run off thinking that he was totally hitting on you, he was just slightly doing that.

“So you’re trying to go to dinner to stir up trouble for more views? I think we should leave it to the writers to get us more views, not us.” You bat your lashes, trying to seem nicer then how your words were being said. He was honestly getting on your nerves for trying to get you into some drama that you didn’t need.

You hadn’t gotten in any scandals so far which you were relieved about. If you were to get into one with such a big time actor like Sirius, your career would surely plummet because of his aggressive fans that adored him.

“You’re right, I was just trying to have an excuse to take you out, is that too greedy of me?” He laughed, his eyes softening once they caught a glance at your confused face.

“I supposed we could, should we invite the other actors as well? A group dinner would be amazing, wouldn’t it?” You grinned, it was always fun to find difference ways to avoid his advances.

“That would amazing, if it weren’t me trying to take you out, not anyone else” He pouted cutely.

“That’s a little inappropriate, Siri, are you trying to take me out on a date?”

“And if I was? Would that be so bad”

Sirius didn’t get why you continued to shut down and question his advances. Why were you so adamant about avoiding him? Did you manage to see him flirting with other woman on set? Or were you afraid to fall for him?

All these questions made him intrigued, he wanted to get you to fall for him, more so then usual with other women. It wasn’t like he liked you or anything, he just wanted to play with you for a bit, but you still didn’t let him.

“Considering the fact you have many lovers to stay loyal to, I’d say yeah” You honestly were getting tired of his attempts to play with you. He was very focused on it too which made it insufferable.

“Hmm? Are you suggesting I’m disloyal? Is this why you avoid me so much?” His pout set on his face, he looked adorable with that face expression. But you knew better than to admire him for his looks.

“I would never call you a cheater, I’m talking about your fans of course!” You feigned shock from his question towards you. You knew it was obvious that you were calling him one, even he knew it.

“Ah, right. The ones that beg for us to get together?” He leaned towards you, making yourself push your lower back against the desk. Your hands grasp at the edge of it, nervous at the compact space between the two of you.

“They do that with every actor that you shoot romance’s with. I know you’re just trying to play with me, just like the other women that have fallen for you” You looked away, trying to avoid glancing at his face that was conveniently a kiss away.

“Oh? So you know about the other girls? Are you scared to fall in love with me incase I break your heart?” He smirked, a smirk that was teasing you for believing exactly what would happen if you did.

“You have no respect for anyone, I don’t need to involve myself with you out of work.” You huffed, staring straight ahead, finally getting confidence to look at him and his fixated eyes.

“Awh, you’re so cute when you—“

“Next scene in 5!” You heard loud knock against your door, you had a scene with him in 5 minutes. You knew exactly how it would go, which made nervousness pool in your stomach.

“It’s fine anyways, you’ll have to accept my offer soon enough” He kissed your cheek and backed up, leaving your trailer like nothing had happened.

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment at the fact that he had kissed you. You shouldn’t have let him in! Why was he so persistent on making you fall for him? Was it an ego boost? Or was he just upset someone in the world didn’t love him!

You laid against your soft couch for the rest of the 5 minutes you had to think. He was trouble for you, and the both of you knew it.

Sirius didn’t get why you felt the need to stay away from him. Sure he had fun with many women around him but that didn’t mean you had to run away from him. It made him more intrigued in you, wanting to see you more, needing to see you more. It pissed him off how much he would love to see you moan and squirm under his touch.

He wasn’t falling for you! He just wanted to play with you, and you kept denying him that! He definitely wasn’t falling in love because of how cute you looked, or because of your big puppy eyes during set, even if you were acting.

When you weren’t, it was the same effect, your stabbing insults and annoyed expressions made him smile. It was adorable how much you wanted him to go away, it only made him come closer.

The two of you were now on set, under a tree sitting down. This was the part where the two main leads kiss. You were anxious and uncertain whether to follow up with the scene. Maybe you could get out of it if the writer changed it? Shit, you forgot he had already kissed up to the writer.

“All I want is for you to open up, I’m begging you” Sirius cupped your face, eyes filled with love and worry. He brought you closer, you leaned into his lap, leveling up your face to his by looking up.

“I love you…” You confessed before kissing Sirius under the fake moonlight that the stage crew had created. Your soft lips touched his, it felt passionate, almost real. You tried pulling away sooner then required but he wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you into his lap.

You were confused and flustered, was this part of the scene? You kept your confusion inside your head, continuing to reciprocate his kisses. Your tongues intertwined, exploring every crevice available, you whined and whimpered until he let go of the kiss.

You panted, needing more air then you thought. You didn’t know about the kissing scene until today, which is why you were so anxious about it.

“CUT! What was that? You two were supposed to kiss only once” The director looked puzzled on why the two of you made out in-front of the cameras.

“That wasn’t part of the scene?” You huffed; getting up quickly. Your cheeks were flushed from the realization hitting you.

“Oops, we might’ve gotten ahead of ourselves” Sirius cheekily laughed, he planned to kiss you way longer then needed. He knew you would play along, believing it was a scene that was changed. Even if it meant to stay in his lap, lovingly kissing him.

You knew if you stayed longer then you’d yell at him in-front of the entire crew. You couldn’t believe he had tricked you! He was so annoying! You prayed that they wouldn’t use that scene in the show but that would mean you’d have to shoot the kissing scene again!

You laid down in your trailer, wondering what you did to deserve to be partnered up with such a scheming actor! He was like a sneaky little rat, trying to go through all your barriers! Only because you didn’t like him?

Your cheeks stayed red with anger and blush, remembering the kiss on the cheek in the trailer and the make out scene. He was gorgeous sure, but his personality made him rotten! He could never treat someone right, that’s likely why he’s never had a long relationship!

You swore you’d never fall for his antics no matter how much he tried.

You ended up having to reshoot the scene, after that, it was a wrap up. You grabbed all of your stuff and made a bee-line towards the exit doors. Until you saw Sirius and the writer talking, likely flirting; right in-front of the doors.

“Pardon me” You slightly smiled, trying to pass by in a hasty manner. He wouldn’t let you get away that easily though, he never would.

“Hey love, did you hear that we’re highly likely to be shooting a second season with the ratings we’re getting?” He pulled you in with no struggle, forcing you into a conversation you definitely didn’t want to have.

“Ah, that’s great! I’m glad” You responded happily. The writer seemed a little taken aback that he had you in his arms like nothing, his arm was draped over shoulder, pulling you right next to him. You would’ve pushed him off if it were just the two of you, but you didn’t want to seem rude.

You began to mull over whether the writer would get mad or even jealous with the close proximity in between you and Sirius. You hoped he would cool her off if she did get mad, because that definitely wasn’t your problem, it was his fault for putting you in these situations for god knows what, his pleasure?

“It’ll be amazing to work alongside such an amazing actor for even more time, isn’t that right?” He grinned, as if he was teasing you and he definitely was.

“Mhm! Unfortunately, I have to go.. so I’ll see you guys tomorrow!” You took his arm off your shoulder and hastily said goodbye. You glanced one more time at him and the writer. You could tell she was mad, so was Sirius for some reason? You didn’t wait to find out why.

You were planning to walk home since it was still afternoon and you were dropped off today by your friend. You sighed in relief that you were finally free from the shackles of your work environment.

Until what terrorized you, caught up. He ran to catch up to you before you started walking. He looked irritated for some reason, why would he be upset?

“How many times are you going to run away? Why can’t you just accept my offers? Do you think you’re better than me?” He towered over you, scanning your every move to see if you were planning to respond or just scurry away.

“Huh? I don’t think I’m better, I just believe you’re not a good person” You looked puzzled on why he was asking these questions. Did he leave the writer to go speak to you?

“Really? Just because I have fun unlike you?” He laughed, still looking handsome, even with his words being laced with his regular egotistical trait.

“I do have fun, it’s just that my fun isn’t playing with people’s feelings” You looked up at him, your serious expression still steady.

“I can’t help that people love me, it’s not awful to indulge in their fantasy’s. Although, for someone who supposedly hates me..“ Sirius held your hand, intertwining fingers, showing how it perfectly fit.

“You allow me to tease you, even getting close enough to kiss you” He brought your hand to his lips, kissing the back of it. He lovingly stared at you, waiting for your response. Yet you never did, you just stared back. Maybe it was confusion, or just genuine nervousness that he had you covered with affection again.

“Speechless? That’s rare of you. How about I take you for a date? And you can decide whether I’m genuinely interested or not” He smiled, finding it cute that you weren’t able respond.

“Fine, when?” You glanced away, avoiding the sight of his lovely smile, one that often was directed to you. Thankfully he let go of your hand after you agreed.

“Right now? My car is right here after all” His grin was cheek to cheek, like he had been planning his the entire time. He was glad you weren’t rejecting him for once. It made him giddy for some reason, as if he genuinely wanted you to like him, and not just for ego boosting.

“Alright, but if I decide you’re not being truthful, then you leave me alone and stop trying to bother me”

“Deal! But if you decide that I am, then you owe me a night over at your place” He shamelessly expressed his bargain. If the chance of him not being able to flirt with you were placed on the table, then he wanted the chance of a night with you. Not just for the accomplishment that he got you in bed, but more of proving to you how good he could make you feel.

“Okay, we shake on it then” You offered up your hand, one that was quickly shook by his. Now the deal was official, you just hoped you would win.

#yandere #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #male yandere #pls request #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #female reader #fem reader #yandere actor #actor yandere #actor reader #fem actor reader #male actor yan #yan actor #siriusmyoc

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elijahslittleprincess · 9 months

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satubby · 3 months

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Heyyy❤️ writer,Your yandere concept of Ryu Si O was amazing.I literally loved it. I request you infact beg😭you to write a hot smut between Ryu Si O & his S/O which would also serve as the 2nd part of the yandere concept.Hope you'll write more amazing stuffs.I'm eagerly waiting for your updates.

Hello my beloved reader, I'm sorry for answering your question... so late but you know, I have school exams in a few months so I stayed away from the Internet. But I hope you like this NSFW scenario of Ryu Shi-oh, something yandere hehe.

Author's Notice: As such, this is told from the POV of our beloved Ryu Shi-oh....

'Baby, eyes don't lie.... Cause I know I love you' — <Based on the song: Eyes don't lie by Isabel Larosa>

If we were honest, the first time I saw you, it was in the worst conditions, both prisoners of our environment. Your smile did not flank even though you will receive blows, I insulted you and kicked you in those cells of Pavel where darkness was our days.

I thought you were a fool, I cursed you for months when you gave me hugs or smiled like a stupid despite your wounds, I was years before you in this crappy cell I called home.... In fact, I don't even know if it could be called that. I did not understand in those moments that those feelings unknown to me, would be the ones that torment me to this day.

That at some point I began to love you, even though we lived like animals struggling to survive, at some point it was comforting to know that you would live another day by my side.

I don't know at what point we began to embrace each other.... I don't know at what moment I opened my shell to you that had been closed so as not to show weakness, at what moment we both began to long for each other? When emotions were forbidden in that hell where freedom was a luxury and living a necessity.

I thought we could escape, that we would be happy out of that place, so I followed the foolish plan of the one I considered my friend at that time, but he was not, a simple rat who betrayed me as soon as he could.

I remember that day when we ran away, we left behind that hellish past but still both you and that bastard were caught, you cried smiling while you pushed me to escape, I did not want to but you begged me.... I saw with my eyes how you 'died' and that ugly image remained in my memories.

Then I wandered aimless until I discovered that the bastard I once called a friend was alive.

Somehow I forced myself to return with the uncertain hope that you were alive... Until at some point, I became that puppet that Pavel wanted so much, all because I was tied to those feelings for you.

Looking for you, I managed to rise to a little stronger and more influential, until that bastard told me that in fact, if you lived and that only made me angry, all those years they could have sent you to me but you were my leash... A strap that was tightening me until it burst when I saw you again 12 years later.

Unfortunately, due to the trauma, when we met again, you had already forgotten about me, yet I did not give up and hugged you until I got tired because deep down, I had clung to the feeling of loving you ... This love that burned, crushed and tortured me with longing made me have mixed feelings.

But for you, I killed and crushed those who crossed my path, I swore I would make Pavel pay for the hell they had put us in, not for anything from now on you were living normally thanks to my efforts.

And now here, feeling your curves on my hands, our lips colliding in desire and despair. I have longed for you so much, I struggled to find you... At what point did your kisses become my addiction? I don't know, because at this point I only wish our paths don't separate.

Your tongue dances with mine, our clashing hips echo in the hot air of the luxurious room. Lust runs through me, my sweat mingles with yours, I know well that our love is a luxury, I know it's wrong to have feelings when I'm still Pavel's puppet, but right now I just want to be Ryu Shi Oh— That little boy who became more than a man, a hungry beast seeking to devour everything and become strong just to find you, the one who loves you and only lives for you. My revenge comes from loving you, I would make them pay for the cruelty they would have put us through.

Our hips echo in the air of the lustful room, your pussy presses against my cock and your juices only make me want to fuck you even more. My hips twitch as you let out gasping moans, your cheeks red with arousal make me smile possessively, I love you with passion and although for years I have been swallowing this bitterness for the feelings that I still did not have clear, I can't take it anymore... You are like the drug that makes me stronger.

"Ryu.... Ahhhh~ I love you so much, you know that... so don't suffer for me anymore, please already– Let's stop with this silly revenge" You let out an agitated sigh trying to find the right words in between lust laden gasps. I know you want me to stop this, but I don't want to be a puppet anymore, I don't want to see you suffer.

I don't want you to be the leash that ties me to Pavel, I don't want to know that you are not just mine, that those bastards could kill you if they wanted to and I couldn't rebel.

Because I know we both hang on the pendulum between life and death constantly under Pavel's strings.

"I love too," I whisper between gasps, feeling your warmth enveloping my cock, your lips tasting like peaches, almost feeling like I'm eating a forbidden but longed-for fruit.

Our bodies move in perfect harmony, fueled by desire and a deeper connection that transcends mere lust.

And despite your pleas that sound more like moans, constantly begging me to stop my erratic movements— I can't help but revel in the pleasure coursing through my veins.

It's as if every caress, every moan, brings us closer to some kind of resolution: an end to the pain and torture that has plagued us both.... Sometimes I think maybe I'm just selfish and that these fantasies of love are only to avoid facing my fears, especially that question that was running through my mind.

You felt the same way about me? I can't help but get angry at the thought that other men have looked at you while locked in that cell where you were treated like a sack of meat.

However, even though I lose myself at this moment, a part of me is still aware of the danger we face under Pavel's watchful eye. But for now, in the midst of this whirlwind of ecstasy, I choose to ignore that dark cloud hovering over me. Instead, I focus solely on you and the boundless love that keeps me sane.

Scratching your back with my nails and you equally with mine, I roll my eyes as I lose myself in the pleasure coursing through my body. Your moans ignite something primal inside me, fueling my lust. Feeling your pussy clenching around me drives me deeper, losing myself completely in the moment. The pleasure intensifies, erasing any sense of time or reason. I thrust harder, wanting nothing more than to give you everything you desire right now.

Our bodies are drenched in sweat and we writhe like dancers in an erotic ballet telling the story of our eternal connection. You whisper sweet words in my ear, filling my heart with warmth despite the cold darkness around us.

Your words pierce through my armor and reach parts of me I thought lost forever.You whimper asking me to stop, but it's not enough, I'm addicted to your scent.

Your breasts are like dough between my hands, my lips collide against your rosy breasts and my tongue plays with those hard buttons because of the lust that emanates from your body. I don't know how much time passed, but we reached our climax, both clinging to our hands.

Like a beast I devoured everything in you— I licked, scratched, bit and fucked you to exhaustion as our bodies became a sticky, sweaty mess. In the end I only know that I love you, that I am possessive and will not let others have you, you are mine and you .... you were fine with that. Years of suffering were worth it or at least that's how it feels to me.

We fell into each other's arms and before we fainted, you whispered an "I love you" and I can only answer you by looking into your sleepy eyes, running my hands through your hair and kissing your forehead. I love you, so much that a scale would not be enough to weigh my love for you ...

Because baby, my eyes don't lie when they tell you that you're mine!

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astermath · 9 months

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the premiere.

pairing: actor!steve harrington x actress!reader

summary: you're a recent addition to hollywood's up and coming promising actors. you'd recently scored the lead role in an emotional period drama, and you're more than surprised to see that top shelf douchebag and america's starboy, steve harrington, has shown up to your premiere. you’re soon confronted with his flirtatious attitude, and you feel the incessant need to put him in his place. it’s a first for both of you.

♡ landing page. ♡

word count: 4.9K

tags: some cursing, mentions of sex, steve is a cocky asshole and will continue to be one, regular font below!

notes: man I do love me some actor!steve because let's be honest, joe keery easily transfers his star power over to all his characters. it's not exactly hard to believe that steve would be a respected actor. let me know what you think and / or if you’d like to be added to the tag list! ♡

They always say life moves fast in Hollywood. Back in your audition days, you wouldn’t believe it. You could practically feel the hours eating away at you as you waited for calls to be returned and scripts to be sent.

Even when you started filming your first big movie, working with such a well respected director and incredible cast, you felt like you were dragging along most of the time. Sure, it was an amazing experience, but the set hours are long, and the time spent overthinking is even longer.

Thinking about if this would be it, if this is what would put you on the map as a talented actress.

You only realised how fast time really moves in Hollywood when you’re discussing the premiere with your manager. Your first big reveal. You’re in the spotlight, everyone will be there to see you. And not just reviewers and fellow cast members, no, people you’ve looked up to before, people you’ve only ever seen on the big screen.

“Are you listening?” Your manager’s voice pulls you right out of your hazy cloud of thoughts. She’s sat across from you, glasses pushed down onto the bridge of her nose, cappuccino in one hand, the other on her laptop.

“Yeah, I’m— I’m here. I’m, uh…” You lean back, clasping your hands together. “You’ve got my attention, sorry Miranda.”

She sighs, readjusting her glasses and bringing her attention back to her screen.

Miranda has been your saviour since day one. She’s got plenty of experience, once having been an actress herself, and now works on managing mostly young women like yourself. She’s a bit tough, stern, but she’s amazing at what she does. Besides, she usually knows what’s best for you before you even know it. She’s got that motherly intuition about her, despite being unmarried without kids.

Your eyes drift over the interior of her apartment. It’s modern, sleek, like her. There’s not much personality shining through it, unless you look hard enough. Then you’d notice she likes orchids, since she has multiple of them potted and well taken care of. Or the numerous photos of the same town in Italy.

She keeps herself busy with scrolling through the list of attendees to the premiere. A bunch of yes’es, a few maybe’s, and the occasional “sorry, however, congratulations on the movie”.

She stills her movements when she gets to the bottom of the list, scrolling up again to see if she’s looking at the right column and then scrolling back down to see if she saw the name right.

“Hm,” she purses her lips, “that’s… Peculiar.”

“What is?” you perk up. Peculiar. That could mean a lot of things. Peculiar as in “your movie is scrapped, actually” or peculiar as in “you’re already nominated for an Oscar”?

“This name. I’ve never seen it on the attendee list before. At least not for my clients.”

“Miranda, you’re killing me with this suspense, please.” You lean forward, your elbows resting onto your knees.

"Steve Harrington." She pauses, and you don't know if she's doing it to be dramatic, or because she's waiting for some kind of elaborate gasp or shocked response.

Instead, you raise an eyebrow, head quirking slightly to the side. "Who?"

You can tell in your manager's eyes that she didn't expect that. Not in her facial expression, of course, she doesn't want wrinkles.

"Christ, sweetie, you're kidding right?" She lets out a dry chuckle, setting down her now empty coffee cup on the end table next to her. sofa. "We've really got to touch up on your media knowledge if you don't know who that is."

"No clue, sorry. What, is he some big deal or something?" You snatch a cookie off the coffee table and start nibbling on it mindlessly.

"Only one of the most popular up and coming actors in the industry." She starts click clacking away on her laptop, pulling up a picture of him and turning the screen around so you can see.

You raise your eyebrows. Damn, not bad. He looks to be around your age, a little older, and you can tell from just that one picture that he knows he's all that. The confidence is practically oozing out of that million dollar smile of his, expensive sunglasses tucked away in his somehow perfectly styled hair.

"So what, he's going to be there. Not like there aren't any other big celebs showing up, I'm sure I can handle myself."

"It's not that I don't think you can behave, starlight, although we'll have to go over some of the red carpet etiquette again later." She takes off her glasses and runs a hand through her short but chic hair.

"Then what is it?"

"He doesn't really... Show up to premieres, usually. Well, none that aren't for his own movies, at least."

Oh, so he is that kind of guy.

You wrap up with Miranda not long after, heading to one last fitting of your premiere gown before returning to your apartment. That's when you start to do your own research on this Harrington fella.

You sit onto your bed, leaned back against a few pillows propped up against your headboard. You open Google and start by what seems the simplest; typing in Steve Harrington.

Steve Harrington age?

Steve Harrington height?

Steve Harrington movies?

The third one seems obvious, but you click it anyways. He doesn’t have a bad track record. A few nominations, one Golden Globe, he’s not slacking for sure.

Most of his stuff paints him as the type of guy you’d expect; undercover agent, the bad boy, the mob boss’ son… Makes you wonder even more why he’s showing up to the premiere of your movie. It has virtually nothing to do with the types of movies he stars in. You’re wondering why he even got an invitation to begin with, Miranda doesn’t seem like the type of woman to be sending those out to every C lister in America.

You type in his name again, curious to know more about his reputation.

Steve Harrington parents?

Steve Harrington dating history?

Though it is cliché, it does intrigue you. You’re not exactly surprised when a handful of names pop up, even one you recognise. Nancy Wheeler. You know that girl, she used to do interviews when you were still starting out. Apparently she went more into the crime journalist route, wrote a book… Pretty interesting stuff.

Almost as interesting as the breakup you’re reading so much about.

“Harrington broken in half? Did Nancy Wheeler finally have enough of his ego, or was she just looking for the next thing to report?”

“Geez, talk about a harsh headline…” You mutter to yourself. Besides her, there’s no mentions of other women he’s been confirmed to date. There’s been pictures, rumours, but you’re guessing he… Gets around.

Steve Harrington controversies?

You feel bad for clicking on it, but then again, you’re already in too deep now.

Something about nepotism, but that’s soon debunked when you realise his parents don’t do anything in the movie industry. Then there’s the Nancy thing, and something about him being difficult to work with. You could have guessed as much just by looking at the guy. You just know he flashes that smile like it’s a method of payment, and he probably gets away with it too.

You reach out and shut your laptop before you go too far down this rabbit hole. Your schedule is packed, and the premiere is only three days away. You've got better things to do than go all Sherlock on this random actor that's showing up.

Though it is unusual.

And he is handsome.

Yeah. It is true. Life does move fast in Hollywood.

Now you know for sure. Because not long ago, you were looking up Steve Harrington's name, like some deprived fangirl, and now you're on your way to the event he's supposed to be at.

The car seems packed, almost claustrophobically so. Miranda sits right of you, on the phone with someone who you can only assume to be too important to interrupt. On the left is your makeup artist, giving you some final touchups before your big entrance.

You don't know if this is the best or worst part about your rising fame. On one hand, it's all you've ever dreamed of. Of being recognised, making a name for yourself, getting to show the world what you can do. You're appreciated, celebrated, but on the other hand, you feel a bit like a product. The way you're sitting in this car, getting all dolled up, rehearsing what you'll say in the interviews... Miranda tells you you'll get used to it, but you're honestly not too sure.

Soon enough, you’re ushered out of the car by your manager. The same way you’ll never get used to the feeling of fame, is the same way you’ll never get used to having your name called out as you’re bombarded with camera flashes. This is only the entrance to the premiere, and you’re already overwhelmed. But you know that this is the worst part, so instead, you put on a smile and greet everyone.

Although you're having a little trouble walking in your gown, and not to mention those godforsaken heels, you soon make it to the actual red carpet for some photos. Your attention is called by several photographers, some asking who you're wearing, some just wanting you to look into the camera.

You look beautiful.

Your dress is a powdery blue, a close match to the dress you wear for most of the movie. It flows beautifully with your body, the silk catching the light in all the right ways. Your accessories and hair are adorned by white gold and pearls, classy, chic, but not boring. You feel like you're dressing up. Not a "let's go out somewhere fancy" dressing up, more like a "putting on your mom's heels" dressing up.

Part of all of this feels like you're playing pretend. Like you're not really supposed to be there. Like everyone's doing you a favour by being here, celebrating you and your movie. Though nothing could be further from the truth, the impostor syndrome somehow still gets to you, every time. You try not to let it show on your face, striking a casual pose, and smiling softly.

You look beautiful.

Steve thinks so too.

Only now he's reminded of why he came to this event. It's made the extra hoops he had to jump through all worth it. The extra questions by his management, the raised eyebrows when he arrived, the interviewers he, for once, has been trying to dodge.

He thought you looked pretty on the big screen, but no camera does you justice as much as the naked eye does.

He recognises something in you. Something nervous. Not necessarily innocent, just... New. It excites him a little, his mind already wandering to you allowing him to show you all the corners of the showbiz. Because he's a seasoned professional, of course. At least he likes to think so. He might only have a few years up on you, but he knows he's made for this. To act, to be famous. He knows you'd look amazing doing it next to him too.

"Mr Harrington!"

Some photographer calling his name catches him off guard, and so he brings his attention to the lens, flashing a cocky smile.

It catches your attention, too. The name more than the callout. You knew he'd be there, but for some reason you figured you'd have a bit more... Mental preparation. But what do you care, right? He probably wants you to gawk at him, be the little innocent newbie, borderline groupie, who can't believe it's really him.

You know better than to feed into his ego.

Which is why you have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes when he smiles at you instead. You know he won't come up to you, he knows better than to embarrass you in front of all these people. You just don't know if he can resist himself later.

Then again, maybe you've got it all wrong. Maybe he just happens to really like 18th century period pieces about a girl finding a connection with her long lost mother. But somehow you'd find that hard to believe.

You go inside the theatre, and you finally get to enjoy the best part. This is when you try to disconnect from your job for a second, from the image you've built for yourself. When you're in front of the big screen, seated with all these people, you're 12 years old again.

You go watch a movie with your mom, it's your favourite time of the month. You share a large popcorn, and you can barely contain your excitement when the lights dim. Somehow, every emotion feels bigger like this. You've watched countless women pour their hearts out in movies, give their everything for their art, their passion. You've always been determined to be like them. To make other people resonate with a character so much it brings them to tears.

When you watch your own movies, you're not watching yourself. You're a little girl again, admiring the performance like you always used to. It makes this career more worth it than anything else, than all the glamour and money anyone could offer.

You bite your lip in anticipation when the theatre goes dark, toying with the bracelet on your wrist. You've seen it before, but not like this. Not like how it's meant to be watched.

Everything fits right. The music immerses you perfectly, the environments are meticulously chosen and everyone plays their part like they were born to do so.

And you're starstruck. By yourself, no less. You've always stayed humble, that's something you'd never give up. But you're also proud. So proud. This is something you've worked so hard for, everyone on the crew has, so you feel no remorse when you admit it's perfect.

The movie is emotional, and nearing the end, the melancholy of it all reaches its climax. Your character runs through a field of poppies, all blooming as she passes each one, chasing what she thinks is a vision of her mother when she was younger. The girl being chased giggles, as the main character keeps calling out her mother's name in tears. She's brought to her knees at the end of the field, the edge of a cliff, reaching desperately to hold onto the memory of her long lost mother.

You let out a tear. Hell, most people do, even Miranda can't hold it. It's one hell of a scene, the orchestral soundtrack alone could make someone cry. It makes your heart swell.

Out of the corner of your eye, you can tell someone else is really letting the waterworks go.

Wait-- That's not just someone.

That's Steve Harrington. Crying. Because of your acting.

You can tell he's trying to hide it a little, hiding his lower face behind a clenched wrist, the tears leaving little stripes of wetness on his skin. Running past his stubbly jaw, dropping onto the fabric of his tuxedo.

You can't imagine this is normal for him. Apparently it was already a rare apparition to see him at your premiere, and now he's publicly crying too. Well, you don't know if anyone else is observing it, but you know what you're seeing. That's pure, raw emotion right there.

You bring your attention back to the screen, hoping he hasn't noticed your staring.

The movie comes to a close, and the audience arises in a standing ovation. You get up, giggling a little coyly at all this sudden attention. The director comes up to you, taking your hand and bringing you along with the rest of the crew to the front so you can take a bow. Your face beams with happiness, and it's contagious.

It makes Steve return the smile, even though it's not even necessarily directed at him. You're just so pretty, all excitement and modesty, so untouched by fame's worst sides. It pulls him straight to you in a way he hasn't experienced before, there's just something so... Sincere about you. Something so gorgeous.

He makes eye contact with you as you come back up from your bow. The smile he gives you is nearly a copy and paste from the ones you saw online, where you can tell exactly what he's trying to say just from his expression. It's like his face just reads "atta girl".

It's really hot. And you hate how it makes you feel.

You exit faster than you probably should. You mutter to Miranda that you just need some fresh air, but really, you need to get away from this Harrington man before you fall head over heels for his stupid tactics. He hasn't said a word to you yet, and you already feel yourself slipping into the enthralling arms of his charm.

You change your mind, earlier was not the worst part. This is. Because now you have to pretend like you're not mentally having a crisis while still answering questions and mingling.

You deal well with most of the compliments and praise. You get a bit of butterflies every time a household name or someone you look up to acknowledges you, and you practically feel like ascending when they say they like your work.

You're in the middle of speaking to one of your co-actors and your manager, when she's suddenly giving you the eyes. With Miranda, this can mean two things;

There is a fire happening, or--

There is someone important behind you.

She's done this before when Robert De Niro was getting interviewed just a meter away from you. But you have a feeling you know who it is this time. Though you're not sure how excited you are by it.

You look over your shoulder, and surely, there he is.

All suave and charm, smooth tuxedo, freckled tan skin and perfect hair. He encapsulates the entirety of Hollywood so well, and you're not quite sure how to respond.

"I'm a little starstruck, I gotta say." he says, and you're not sure why you're even surprised that his voice is that nice.

"Really?" You give Miranda your "help me" eyes for a moment, but she's already off to get more champagne. With no lifeline to hang onto, you figure you might as well entertain him for a moment. "Guess I could say the same about you."

"Hey, I'm not the reason we're all here, am I?" He chuckles, and you're unsure if it's a rhetorical question or not. From what you can tell, maybe he does think everyone's here for him. You try your hardest to fend off those preconceptions of him, but although you are new to all of this, you’re not stupid. You know how men can be once they start getting attention.

“I just wanted to congratulate you on the movie.” He says, voice dripping with honey, placing his large warm hand over your arm. It would surprise you, if it didn’t feel so nice. “Truly a great performance, and I mean that. I’m not even usually one for period pieces.”

He doesn’t realise that makes him look even more suspicious for showing up here at all. Why would you go to a premiere for a movie of a genre you don’t like?

“Thank you, I appreciate that, Mr…” You pretend not to know his name, for multiple reasons. To make yourself seem a little more nonchalant, or maybe you just want to give his ego that little chop it so obviously needs.

“Harrington. Though I assumed you knew, my bad.”

You refrain from rolling your eyes. Of course he would.

“I’m surprised to see you here.” You implore, and Steve’s eyebrows raise a little. He was hoping you wouldn’t ask that, but he supposes it was bound to happen eventually.

“Ah, well, the director is a friend of mine. I figured I’d show up for support, you know, keep the connection up.” He’s lying through his teeth, and you both know it. But part of Hollywood is pretending like you’re all not just lying to each other the whole time. You’ve gotten more used to it over time.

Neither of you mention what you saw inside. Partly because you’re unsure if you were imagining it, and partly because you wouldn’t even know where to insert it. Yet the sight of him getting emotional lingers in the back of your head.

“I thought you uh, didn’t know who I was?” Steve remarks, and you catch your own slip up now too. Why would you care if he showed up, if you didn’t even know his name?

“Oh, I do, your uh… Your name just slipped my mind.” Your nonchalant façade starts to falter, and you’re hoping it doesn’t make you look as much of a fool as you think you do.

Instead of pressing on, he chuckles. It’s a warm chuckle, low, smooth, it sends a shiver down your spine. He seems amused by you, for a reason you can’t quite make out.

He presses a hand to the small of your back, leaning in closely to your ear, and you think you might start seeing stars. He smells so incredibly good, you nearly melt into his touch, whether you mean to or not.

“Well, make sure to make it stick this time, hm, honey?”

You’re pretty sure your entire body has heated up just from hearing that. You hate how well his charm works on you, that silky voice and smug demeanour.

He pulls back, and just as you expected, he’s smiling like the cat that got the cream. “See you around, princess. Enjoy your premiere.”

You’ve had a lot of mind blowing shit happen to you already. The fact that you’re standing at your own movie premiere, surrounded by people you admire is insane to you on its own.

Now you’re getting flirted with by one of Hollywood’s golden boys, and you just have to play it cool. Pretend that you don’t feel like giggling like a teenage girl and getting all flustered. It makes you sick to your stomach. It makes you mad. That he can walk off, just like that, all cocky and confident. You don't want him to think of you like the innocent debutante that he can just play around with for a bit, before he moves on to the next young thing. You've seen that movie before.

Before you have a chance to let it get to your head, one of your costars, the younger girl that plays your little sister, comes up to you. "Geez, you okay? You look a little... Pressed."

"'M fine. Just-- a little frustrated. Sorry I haven't said hi yet, this is all... A lot, you know?"

"You'll get used to it." She sips her glass of champagne, and you want to say something about it, before you remember she's only two years younger than you. She's been an actress since she was 6 years old, she knows the industry so much better than you, and yet you feel protective over her.

"I don't think I ever will, to be honest. God, my shoes are killing me." You groan, hoping no one's close enough to hear you complain. The last thing you want is to come across as ungrateful for all this.

"Have some more champagne, that usually does the trick." She looks off to the side for a moment, and you can tell she's a little tense too. "Me and the rest of the girls on crew are going to get drinks and food later, wanna join?"

Her invitation brings a smile to your face. Though you're constantly surrounded by people, Hollywood brings a profound sense of loneliness into your life. You have trouble fitting in, connecting. Everyone is all smiles and compliments, yet no one talks, no one calls. Anything is rarely personal. And making friends is hell.

"I'd love to, seriously. Tell you what, it's my treat. To celebrate our premiere, hm?"

She smiles back, leaving her empty glass on the tray of a passing waiter. "Cool. I'm off to the bathroom, cab's gonna be out front around 8."

She leaves you shortly after, and suddenly it's there again. That profound sense of loneliness. It's got you left thinking about what Steve said to you. How he talked to you. That tone.

It makes you feel small. Yet you hold on to every word.

How infuriating.

The rest of the premiere is a dazed flurry of conversations and pictures taken in your memory. You've got too much on your mind now to enjoy most of it, and you damn that smug asshole for being the reason for that.

You walk outside, the sky being a lot darker than you expected. You sigh, the air you breathe out coming out in little clouds. April shouldn't be this cold, not in California, at least.

You look around, no cab to be seen yet. Your eyes catch sight of a familiar man smoking. He flicks open an expensive lighter, his hands shielding the flame from the wind.

The fire frames his face in a special kind of light. It shows both the pretty freckles scattered on his skin, and the bags present under his eyes. The strange dichotomy of his personality, represented so simply on his face.

It just pisses you off even more how handsome he is.

Before you realise it, your legs are taking you closer to him, heels clicking onto the pavement as you strut over. He only seems to notice your presence when your shadow casts over him, taking away the yellowish glow of the streetlight.

"Missed me already?" He smiles, lips still wrapped around the cigarette before he takes it between his fingers.

"You can't talk to someone like that. At least not to me." You don't know where this sudden surge of confidence sprouted from, your words even surprising yourself.

"I'm sorry?" He stands up straighter, and though his stature is definitely taller than yours, you try not to let it phase you.

"I know what you're trying to do. I'm not dumb. Maybe you think I am, but I'm not." You cross your arms, partly to shield yourself from the cold, partly to feign courage.

"And what do you think I'm doing then, hm?" The smile on his face makes you want to desperately smack it right off. He really is exactly like people say.

"Don't act stupid with me. You think you've got me all figured out, huh? You randomly show up to my premiere, and the first time we talk, you try to butter me up. Did you expect me to drop to my knees for you or something? Thank you for gracing me with your almighty presence, which for the record, I did not ask for?"

He's speechless for a second. This is a first. Usually, when a woman is cussing him out, it's after they've dated, not before.

He chuckles, dropping his half smoked cigarette onto the ground and stamping it out with his shoe.

"Sounds like you think you've got me all figured out, doll."

"Don't call me that."

"It's not a bad thing."

"I decide that. Not you."

He sighs, shoving his hands in his pockets and leaning his head back for a moment. "Geez... So much for first impressions huh?"

"I'm not the one trying to get into the other's pants now, am I?"

"Coulda fooled me."

"God, you're fucking insufferable." You laugh dryly, rolling your eyes. "You think I'm some stupid showbiz newbie, that I'm supposed to be grateful you're even talking to me. Maybe have sex with you and see what opportunities I get out of it."

He just looks at you now. You don't know if that's better than a response, because he's neither confirming nor denying it. Or maybe he realises nothing he says will save him in this. He'd be right about that.

"Do me a favour, if you’re just going to treat me like a ditz, don’t talk to me again. I’m already forced to deal with enough guys like you on the daily, so go bother someone else.”

As if called by some higher being, the cab, along with the girls you were supposed to meet, arrive outside. You gave Steve no time to respond, instead offering him a cold shoulder and some time to let all of that sink in. Though you doubt your words are going to make him change that attitude any time soon.

He leans against the wall outside, watching the dark car you got in drive by and away into the nightly city. He’s not sure what to do with what’s just been given to him.

No woman has ever figured him out this early on. Or maybe they have, and they just never told him this outright. It’s not like he tries to hide the type of person that he is, it’s just that it usually never blows up in his face this much. You’ve taken his flirting, turned it around and served it right back at him to make him think it all over. You‘ve practically rendered him speechless, and it’s only your first time meeting.

It’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen.

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waynes-multiverse · 26 days

Text

Plastic Hearts – Part 22

Pairing: Director!Dean Winchester x Actress!Reader

Series Summary: Los Angeles, 1985. Y/N’s a young actress without any success, hopping from one failed audition to the next until one desperate mistake brings her to her breaking point. Dean Winchester, on the other hand, is a grade A asshole and washed-up director at the end of his career, known for his godawful slasher movies in the 70s and his love for blow, booze, and women. Lost in the toxic Hollywood life, their paths cross when one hopeless little wrestling show changes their trajectory.

Chapter Warnings: +18, language, injuries, hospitals, jealousy, drug use, angst, smoking everywhere 'cause it's the 80s, girl fights, a whole lot of FLUFF

Word Count: 6.9k

A/N: Thank you guys so much for all your comments last week! So happy to bring these two idiots back to your screens of choice and give them an ending they deserve! Now, buckle up! We have some bitchy moments in this one 👀😇

<< 21 || Spotify Playlist || Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

22. Girls, Girls, Girls

The gym smells of blood, sweat, and tears tonight. More so than ever before. The tensions run high.

It’s the first live taping since the show’s official cancellation. The first three matches have already run their course, the rest of the women joining Dean in his office, using the platform as the perfect viewing room. It’s like an NFL suite at Super Bowl. Everyone’s drinking, celebrating, and has gathered here to watch the biggest match of the night:

Red Sparrow vs. Liberty Bell

Usually, the green-eyed director would be bothered by the constant chatting, shrieking, and yapping. But tonight, he could care less as he passed the director’s crown on to his spawn, leaving Claire to man the booth and direct the show on her own, putting her AV skills to the test.

After all, the show’s already canceled. What’s the worst that could happen? Might as well let a rebellious teenager call the shots. Who gives a shit! Isn’t it awesome to be this carefree?

“Can you guys keep it down?” Claire hisses with an annoyed roll of her eyes, her shoulders tense with stress as she tries to concentrate on the monitors. “I’m trying to direct a show here! I can’t fucking hear anything!”

Amused, Dean chuckles. Now, his daughter finally knows what it’s like to be in his shoes. He’s tried telling everyone for ages that these women are fucking annoying and that being a director ain’t easy.

While the women are busy talking up a storm and pay attention to the match, Dean sneaks to his desk and opens the first drawer. He pulls out his pack of cigarettes, but it’s not a smoke he’s in the mood for. To his surprise and shock, however, the little bag of white powder he hides in there is gone.

Did he put it somewhere else?

Frantically, he starts opening every drawer, moving stuff in and out of them. He rummages through his folders on his desk, sees if he placed it there somewhere, but it’s nowhere to be found. His green eyes then dart to his kid and an eerie feeling settles in his stomach. Surely, Claire didn’t take it, right?

Like father, like daughter, it echoes through his mind.

He always loved the fact that his kid was so much like him – the love for good movies, the humor, the sass, the sheer unabashed talent. But not in that regard. God, does he hope she didn’t inherit his drug addiction, too.

“Claire?” Dean knows he has to be careful in his questioning, not wanting to alert the other women in the room to the pressing issue. But his daughter skillfully ignores him, too focused on her current task. “CLAIRE?!” he barks loud enough to rattle the entire office.

Yeah, okay, that wasn’t as smooth and inconspicuous as he had hoped, but he’s fucking panicking on the inside, alright? He has entered worried dad mode.

Don’t act so fucking surprised, okay? He has evolved like man is supposed to do.

In all honesty, Dean wanted to get completely clean two weeks ago. As soon as Y/N waltzed into his office and slept with him, he swore he’d never touch the toxic and nasty stuff again. He was done, and this time, it’d be final. No going backsies. But he had one teeny-tiny baggy left, and well, he hates to be wasteful. So, his plan was to slowly stop and keep the withdrawals at a minimum. And it worked great so far. It hasn’t snowed in four fucking days.

“What?!” his kid grunts back, audaciously annoyed.

“Did you snoop through my drawers and take my smokes out?” Dean asks her in his best dad voice. He’s gotten quite good at it since he practiced it over the last few weeks.

Do your homework!

Eat your vegetables!

Tell that fucking boyfriend of yours to stop sneaking in through the window, or I’ll get my gun!

“No, I don’t smoke!” Claire huffs without missing a beat and doesn’t take her eyes off the monitors even once.

Dean believes her. Usually, when she lies, there are a few seconds of thinking that pass by before she comes up with a reasonable excuse. Not that he buys any of them, but whatever. This time, though, she answered right away, and he knows she has no idea what he’s even talking about.

So, did he misplace it? You’d think he’d be more careful with drug storage, but sometimes it’s a glass of whiskey too many, and stuff gets lost. Did he leave it in the car? Is it at home?

But then it dawns on him. Joanna.

The blonde storms into his office, forcing the director to look up. Her mascara is smeared across her cheeks, her hair disheveled and overall she seems upset and out of breath.

“I need my own goddamn dressing room,” Barbie demands. “I can’t get ready and in the right head space with all of these women down there. I’m the star of the show. Some of us need peace and quiet to wash the shit of the world from us before they have to fucking perform!”

“Whoa, whoa, easy, alright? Sit down,” Dean tells her calmly and gestures to the seat in front of him, where the blonde immediately plops down with an exhausted huff. “You can get ready in my office tonight, okay? You want a drink? You look like you need one.”

Jo nods with a sniffle and accepts the flask he’s offering her, almost downing the whole thing.

“What’s going on? You good?” Dean checks. Usually, he wouldn’t care about the blonde’s feelings, but since she’s up against Y/N tonight, he wants to assure himself nothing goes wrong.

“Yeah, it’s just… Sam.” She scoffs and takes another swig. “He’s got a new girlfriend. His secretary, Jessica.” The blonde rolls her eyes at the name. “Who knows how long he’s been fucking her. Our divorce isn’t even final.”

Dean nods understandingly as he rises from his chair and pats the blonde’s shoulder. “I know. Divorce is shitty. You’ll get through this. Trust me.”

“Shit…” Dean mumbles.

He left an emotionally vulnerable woman alone in his office with a bunch of booze and drugs. How could he be this stupid and reckless? He doesn’t even suspect Jo took the coke on purpose. She was probably looking for a smoke and stumbled upon it, thinking, “What the hell? My day is already shit, maybe this makes it better.”

Dean knows because it’s usually what he thinks as well when he’s at his lowest. How do you think he got addicted to drugs in the first place, huh?

Here’s how: two divorces and a failing career.

“Boss?”

“Dean?!”

“Dad!”

The green-eyed director snaps out of his thoughts and turns to the room full of women upon their calling, all of them looking quite panicked and worried. It’s like a fox got loose in the coop.

His brow furrows as he approaches the booth and big windows, trying to see where the concern is coming from. “What? What’s going on?”

“I think there’s something wrong, boss,” Donna informs him. “That’s not the fight they’ve practiced during training. They’re going off script.”

Fucking shit…

“Dean, what the hell is going on?” Billie cocks an eyebrow at the director, but he can’t get himself to focus or reply as his green eyes are glued to the match downstairs.

Dean’s too cynical to believe in a God and has certainly never prayed before, but tonight he can’t help it and utter a quiet prayer, hoping for a goddamn miracle.

His heart is racing as he watches the match unfold. There’s nothing he can do about it. Nothing can stop it. It’s like watching a fucking car crash as a bystander on the sidewalk.

Looking at Y/N’s face, he can see that she’s panicking as well and getting scared. It breaks his goddamn heart. The actress tries to talk to the blonde and get through to her but to no avail. Killer Barbie is on a mission, and her target is clearly Y/N.

And then, it all happens fast. Jo throws Y/N onto the mat and grabs her leg, raising it up by the ankle. There are tears in Y/N’s eyes before an audible crack echoes through the gym. Y/N screams out in pain. Jo drops her foot and backs away in shock, hands high in the air. The entire gym becomes mum, only a few quiet gasps uttered by the audience bounce off the tall walls.

Dean’s heart is about to explode as he bolts down the stairs and almost takes a fall. He hasn’t even reached the ring yet and assessed the damage, but he already blames himself. This is all his fucking fault. Donna warned him, and he didn’t listen. Y/N was obviously not fine, and neither was Jo. How many goddamn warning signs did he choose to ignore? And for what? For fucking ratings no one even cares about?

Y/N’s agonizing scream rings in his ears as the director makes his way to her. Rufus is already there in his referee costume, trying to help her as best as he can. Dean’s so close he can practically count the steps to the ring. Has this gym always been this huge? It feels like he’s been running a mile.

But then, he’s abruptly stopped by Cas’ announcer voice and what his green eyes find unfolding in front of him.

“And here comes a camera guy to save our Russian warrior!”

Oh hell, no!

Dean should probably be glad that someone is helping her and not let his jealousy win. But does that someone really have to be fucking Benny of all people? The green-eyed director truly thought he was done worrying about that guy. Now, however, he has to watch that douchebag heroically carry Y/N out of the ring while the audience cheers and claps.

It’s his worst goddamn nightmare. Well, that and Y/N getting hurt in the first place.

“Put her down,” Dean demands fiercely as he faces Benny, his blood boiling as he watches the actress hold on to the guy’s neck and wince in pain. A bit of guilt mixes with his jealousy at that.

Don’t be an asshole. Focus, he reminds himself. Y/N’s more important than your fucking ego.

“What? No,” Benny denies his request with a confused and irritated frown.

“That’s an order,” Dean grits boldly.

“I don’t care. She’s hurt,” Benny snaps back with emphasis and acts like Dean doesn’t know what that means. “Fucking fire me if you have a problem with that. The show’s done anyways.”

That fucking little prick…

Dean purses his lips in frustration. What is he supposed to do now? Rip her from the guy’s arms? Start a fist fight?

“I can take her. I’ll drive her to a hospital,” the director insists with a little more reasoning.

“Let’s take my limo! There’s enough space for her,” Ruby chimes in as the whole pack of women flock to the rescue and worryingly gather around Y/N.

Great. More helping hands is what Dean needs right now.

“No, we’re taking my car,” Dean maintains, trying to remain calm amongst the concerned chatter. “Baby’s backseat got plenty of space, alright?”

“True,” Bela agrees with a dirty smirk.

Dean sighs, Billie rolls her eyes, and Y/N frowns at that. Dear God, these fucking women…

“How about we ask Y/N what she wants, huh?” Dean proposes, knowing the actress will surely pick him. God knows she’s picked him yesterday all night long…

Benny smiles as if he could win this battle. “Fine.”

“Y/N, sweetheart, what d’you want? Who do you wanna go with, huh?” Dean asks, lowering himself down to her with a gentle look in his eyes and a warm, caring smile.

“I don’t care!” Y/N whines with pained features and a high level of annoyance. “I just wanna go to a hospital! Any hospital in any car.”

Fair enough, Dean thinks dejectedly. Still, she could’ve done him a favor and picked him. He hates losing to a fucking camera operator.

“My limo it is!” Ruby exclaims and bolts ahead to the parking lot, keys jiggling in the air.

With a triumphant smirk, Benny turns and follows Valley girl outside, Dean swallowing down the urge to punch the guy as Y/N throws him an apologetic look over camera guy’s shoulder.

These fucking women…

Dean has floored the gas pedal of the Impala, but it’s fucking LA, so an hour was spent standing in traffic on the freeway. Moreover, he had to gather Claire and Cas as well and check on Jo, while Benny and the girls were already at the hospital with Y/N.

When Dean finally arrives, he rushes through the glass doors into the waiting area of the emergency room, Cas and Claire on his heels. His group is easy to spot, considering they’re all still in their fucking wrestling costumes.

His hands ball into fists when he sees Benny holding an ice pack to her injured ankle as she sits in a wheelchair, the girls scattered around Y/N on creaky hospital seats as they keep her company. He hates that camera guy is taking care of his girl. It should be him by her side, not some fucking footnote in this story.

“Hey, what the fuck is going on? Why is she still waiting?” Dean asks furiously, charging in full-throttle. His heart is burning for Y/N, and nothing can extinguish it.

Hell, if she isn’t getting help soon, he’ll burn this goddamn hospital down.

“Because she’s not a gunshot wound?” Ruby answers wryly, earning her glare.

But Dean supposes party girl has a point. It’s an LA hospital in a bad neighborhood.

“Want me to lick your wound? Saliva helps with blood clotting,” Meg offers as she holds Y/N’s hand tightly.

“She’s not even bleeding,” Cassie counters with a raised brow.

“She might be bleeding internally,” Meg argues and places her palm on Y/N’s forehead, taking her temperature.

“Stop it! You’re freaking her out,” Charlie scolds from the seat behind her.

“Why is this taking so long? My friend is in pain! Do you hear me?” Meg whines, calling to the nurses’ station.

Why are girls so exhausting? That question has been running around Dean’s mind for months now. He’s still lacking an answer.

Ignoring the female turmoil around him, Dean lowers himself down in front of Y/N and finds her eyes, smiling gently. “Hey, sweetheart. How are you doing, huh?”

“Dean!” Y/N smiles broadly when she recognizes him, her face lighting up and beaming brighter than the fluorescent lights above her. It warms his heart.

The director’s head then tilts slightly, inspecting her closer. She seems awfully chipper for someone in pain. Her pupils are gigantic, too.

Ruby leans in and whispers, “I gave her a Valium… and then half a Klonopin.”

Ah. There it is. She’s fucking high. That explains it.

Dean reaches out his hand and caresses her pink cheek, feeling her lean into his touch. “You feeling good, sweetheart?”

“I’m awesome,” she replies with a drowsy giggle.

He grins. “Yeah, I bet you are…”

Is it weird he’d like to fuck her in this state? Right, probably not a good time to ask those questions. (But he swears he wouldn’t take advantage of her. Just play with her and test her senses a little.)

“You’re so pretty,” Y/N tells him dreamily, making him blush hard as she touches a few strands of his hair and plays with them.

“And the first pill is kicking in,” Ruby notes, amused.

A nurse then finally walks into the waiting room with a tired gleam in her eyes and clears her throat to catch everyone’s attention. Dean can’t blame her. He knows it’s like a fucking circus in here.

“Good news. We have a bed ready, so I’ll take her back and all of you can leave?” the nurse explains and looks at the wolf pack hopefully.

Meg stares her dead in the eyes and replies flatly, “Not a chance.”

Yeah, Dean could’ve told that nurse those girls weren’t going anywhere.

Benny rises from his position and attempts to push Y/N’s wheelchair, following the nurse. But Dean will be damned if he lets him. Provocatively, he pushes the camera guy aside and scowls at him, making his territory and claim clear. The girls aren’t the only wolves in this waiting room.

“I got her. You can leave,” Dean growls with a deathly stare. “My show, my actress. I’m the director, and she’s my fucking responsibility, got it?”

Benny raises his palms in surrender and takes a step back. He already knew he lost when Y/N only had eyes for Dean as soon as the director showed up. A pill-high never lies.

The nurse helps Y/N into a bed in a small, quiet room. As they wait for a doctor, Dean impatiently paces the room, fuming away on his smoke. If you can’t tell, he’s far away from relaxed.

A man in a white coat with a friendly smile then finally strolls in and introduces himself. “Hello there, Y/N Y/L/N. I’m Dr. Gabriel Piccolo. Are you with the circus?”

Dr. Sexy, as Dean refers to the guy, lifts an eyebrow at Y/N’s unusual costume. You’d think as a doctor at a hospital in Hollywood, he’d see more people like this.

“I’m an actress on a wrestling TV show,” Y/N replies, not offended by his question in the slightest.

“Oh, uhm, I’ll have to watch it,” Dr. Sexy says politely and then gets straight down to business, cocking his head at her injured leg. “Okay, so left ankle. We’re gonna have to cut off this boot.”

“Oh! No, no, no. Sorry, these are important.” Y/N protectively throws herself over her knee-high army boot.

Dean sighs a little. Even high on pills and in unbearable pain, Y/N still prioritizes her silly job. “Alright, Doc. I got it,” the director relents and shoots the man a look.

Carefully, Dean unties her laces, loosening the shoe enough. “I’m gonna go slow, sweetheart. Just take it easy, alright?”

Dean flashes her a smirk and watches as she bites down on her lower lip, nodding. She inhales sharply and whimpers when he slips the boot off her foot. His fingers smooth over her leg, soothe the skin, and elicit a shudder from her. He can tell the action turned her on, can see the goosebumps rise on her arms as she presses her thighs together. He can practically hear her drip.

He smirks devilishly. Y/N sends him a knowing frown.

Dr. Sexy clears his throat and interrupts their heated moment, causing Y/N’s cheeks to flush furiously.

The doctor then assesses her ankle. It’s swollen and the skin a purplish-blue. Dean knows it doesn’t fucking look good. He guesses it’s not a simple sprain.

“Can you feel your toes? Can you wiggle them?” the doc checks. Y/N does as asked and moves her toes as best as she can. It’s not much though before she winces in pain. “How does that feel?”

Dr. Sexy touches the swell on her ankle, and Y/N squeezes her eyes shut and locks her jaw, a tear rolling down her cheek.

“Fucking hurts,” she grits through strained teeth.

“Okay, we’re gonna take some X-rays. See what we’ve got,” the doc finally says and disappears out of the room.

Y/N exhales an exhaustive breath and looks at the director. “Distract me,” she prompts with desperate eyes.

“Well, I’m not gonna be my regular chipper self,” Dean quips, making her laugh. He smiles, too, and leans in closer. “How about this?”

He wiggles his eyebrows and then dips his head, claiming her lips in a blistering kiss that makes her legs quiver. His tongue slips inside her mouth, swipes deep as teeth scrape her lower lip. Upon her first moan, he draws back with a smug smile.

He leans close to her ear, whispering against her shell, “You know if curling your toes didn’t hurt, I’d make you come so fast on my fingers right now, baby girl.”

Her eyes widen. She gasps and gently hits his arm in a scolding manner. “Dean!”

“What?” He chuckles and pecks her crown. “It’ll be alright. Don’t worry so much, okay?”

The girls then soon flood the room, one by one providing endless entertainment that surely no other patient at this hospital receives. Y/N’s a fucking star here, although she always is to Dean.

First, there was Claire, who practically emptied the vending machine, buying sweets and snacks for every taste (with Dean’s money). He’s nothing more than a wallet to that girl.

Meg, on the other hand, stole more pillows and blankets from other patients, making sure Y/N was as comfortable as possible. Ruby read Cosmopolitan to her and filled out the magazine’s sex quiz, intriguing Dean a lot.

Every girl pretty much brought their unique sense of entertainment, making Y/N laugh and smile so much she almost forgot why she was here. Only one woman was missing from the wolf pack – Joanna.

As Y/N is finally wheeled away to her X-rays, Dean decides to join the other women in the waiting room. He’s more than happy to discover that Benny actually left when he can’t catch sight of the guy anymore.

Guess the director is the true winner, after all.

Donna then approaches Cas, who’s nervously sucking on a cigarette in the corner by the vending machine, and hands him a clipboard with a hospital form.

“Y/N doesn’t have insurance, and we don’t know what to fill out,” the blonde tells him and meekly saunters back to her seat.

Cas frowns and looks at the women in disbelief. “How could she not have insurance? She’s a professional wrestler.”

Billie arches a sarcastic eyebrow at that and replies wryly, “Yeah, employed by Novak Productions, who doesn’t provide health care.”

Cas swallows guiltily and purses his lips. “How many of you don’t have insurance?”

Almost every woman in the room raises their hand, except for Jo, Billie, and party girl.

That tracks, Dean thinks and is not the least bit surprised. Judging by Cas’ shocked expression, though, this revelation clearly shatters the privileged rich boy’s world.

The producer nods earnestly. “This is my responsibility, and I will take care of it,” he promises. Dean gives him a pat on the back, letting Cas know he’s doing the right thing. If the producer hadn’t footed Y/N’s bill, Dean surely would have.

The director then glances around the waiting area, noticing the sad faces and depressed mood. “Alright, she’s not dying, okay?” he tells them and catches their attention. “You guys did a great show tonight. Why don’t you go back to the motel?”

“Great?” Donna cocks a brow at his word choice. “We were amazing.”

Charlie looks up at him, a hopeful look in her eyes as her red hair shimmers in the fluorescent light. “You think we get our old time slot back, Dean?”

Dean smacks his lips, scratching the scruff on his chin. He then shakes his head. He can’t lie to them. Knowing what he knows, he also knows it’s over. “No, I don’t. I think we’re gonna die at 2am… But we’ll die on our own terms, alright?”

Nodding, Ruby sighs loudly. “I’ll drive everybody home. And then, we get drunk while we ice our knees.”

As the girls start to gather their belongings and rise from their seats, Jo rushes through the glass doors. The women punish her with little glares on their way out. No one buys it was an innocent accident. In fact, Dean’s pretty sure the wolf pack believes the blonde tried to murder their beloved leader.

Dean, however, doesn’t.

“She’s in room 3,” he tells Jo without further comment.

The green-eyed director didn’t know what he had expected when he sent Joanna into Y/N’s room. Maybe that they’d talk like adults, get it all out in the open, and finally make amends. Be best friends again.

But maybe that was a little naive of him.

It all started out innocently. Dr. Sexy entered the room with a set of X-rays and left happily a few minutes later. Meanwhile, Dean and Cas smoked in the hospital’s corridor and drank the most awful-tasting coffee out of plastic cups.

Then, the mood started to shift. The guys could hear the girls arguing with slightly raised voices, just loud enough for it to drown out into the hallway.

“Eight to ten weeks? It’s not that long,” Jo could be heard saying.

“It’s the rest of the season. I won’t be on the show,” Y/N threw in through gritted teeth. Dean could hear the upset in her voice.

Jo scoffed, brushing it off. “Well, we’re getting canceled anyways, so… It’s just a job, you know.”

“No, it’s not!” Y/N’s voice went up a notch in volume. Dean knew she was close to reaching a boiling point. This wasn’t good.

“Okay, geez, you don’t have to lash out at me. I did not mean to break your ankle, okay?” Jo countered, pushing all blame off her.

“I don’t fucking believe you!”

And that was the turning point. That’s when the yelling started. The one that could be heard throughout the hospital, spilling into every room and probably several floors.

“No, no, no…. See, that was an accident, Y/N,” Jo says with a jittery voice. “Unlike the time you accidentally fucked my husband! TWICE!”

“You made out with my prom date on prom night!”

“That is not the same thing, and you know it!”

“Oh? Is it the same thing when you hooked up with your co-star at your stupid soap wrap party one week before you got married? And coincidentally, Sammy was born nine months later! Is he even Sam’s? ‘Cause he looks a whole lot like what‘s-his-face!”

“How dare you!”

“You didn’t even love Sam! You only married him for his money!”

“You don’t have the fucking right to say anything about my marriage!”

Cas swallows down a big gulp of coffee, sharing a nervously concerned look with Dean. “Should we, you know, go in there?”

Dean’s eyes widen as he vividly shakes his head. “Fuck no! Are you nuts? We stay right here. Look, men are simple. They throw a few punches and then share a drink. And women… Well, women do fucking this. Bottle everything up, even for years sometimes, till it fucking explodes. Trust me, they need this. Let ‘em get it outta their system.”

Fucking women…

“Oh, do I have the right to talk about your power complex?” Y/N yells. “Or do I have to schedule a meeting with all the producers?”

“I’ve earned my title!”

“Right, your fucking work ethic is legendary! I’m so sick and tired of apologizing about Sam! I don’t care anymore! I have eaten shit for months! I have done everything I can think of to make this right!”

“You can’t make it right!”

“Great! Then I’ll stop trying!”

“Fine!”

“Yeah, fine like you telling me I should get raped to save our show! The show you don’t give a shit about!”

“God, you’re so melodramatic! I just figured you’re already screwing our director for attention, what’s one more network executive!”

Cas blinks at Dean with wide eyes and a raised brow. “Are you-… Are you and Y/N dating?”

Dean averts his eyes to the blue wall opposite him and wordlessly sips his coffee. He has a feeling the girls’ fight is about to take a turn, going into a direction he doesn’t particularly care for. Why can’t they just leave him out of it?

Cas, however, takes Dean’s silence as what it is – an admission. The producer’s face lights up with joy. He excitedly rubs Dean’s shoulder and gasps giddily. “That’s so great! You haven’t dated anyone since Amara! I’m so happy for you! I love Y/N! Are you guys getting married? Did you buy a ring? Can I be best man? You know what they say, third time’s the charm!”

Dean scowls at the producer and heaves a deep sigh. “Calm the fuck down, would you? No one’s getting married.”

“Go to hell! I’m not fucking Dean, okay?” Y/N denies Jo’s accusation loudly.

Dean thinks she’s a hell of an actress. If he didn’t know for a fact that he was balls-deep inside her last night, he would’ve bought that little lie.

“Oh please! It’s so obvious!” Jo counters. Dean can practically hear the exhaustive eye roll that followed. “He’s following you around the gym like a lovesick puppy!”

That’s what Dean was afraid of. He does not like where this conversation is headed.

“He is not! Shut the fuck up!”

“Are you really trying to fucking lie to me, right now? I’ve known you since middle school!” Jo snaps. “And he certainly fits your glorious dating choices! Drug addiction? Check! Asshole? Check! Commitment issues? Check! He’s perfect for you. I’m surprised your slutty ass didn’t jump him the first day!”

“Oh, fuck you, you fucking bitch!”

“Slut!”

“Whore!”

Then, more yelling, more accusations, and more tears follow before Jo storms out of the room and bolts past the boys down the hallway.

Fucking girls…

“I’ve never felt so guilty about anything,” Cas mumbles next to him, completely distraught and shaken.

Dean scoffs. “Geez, you’ve lived a charmed life.”

“Thought I was gonna have a wrestling show, and no one was gonna get injured?” Cas shakes his head at his own nonsense. “What the fuck is wrong with me? I destroyed our little family! I mean, Y/N is a gimp.”

The director rolls his eyes and sighs. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. She’ll go on to have a full life, okay?”

Somehow that causes Cas to smile cheekily. He nudges the director’s shoulder. “With you?”

Dean sends him a thundering glare and dumps his burning cigarette bud into the producer’s coffee cup as he walks past him and returns to Y/N’s room.

Dean sat quietly next to Y/N as a nurse put a cast on her leg. The ankle, much like the women’s friendship, was broken, and the actress was out of commission for the foreseeable future. She hadn’t spoken a word yet, only sniffling and crying silently to herself. Dean left her alone and only handed her a tissue every now and then, figuring she needed some time to calm down and think. But he still wanted her to know he was there in case she needed him.

As the nurse finally leaves, Dean reaches out his hand and takes hers, drawing comforting circles on the back of it. Patiently, he waits till she’s ready to look at him.

“Well, I won’t be needing these anymore,” Y/N mutters with a pout and dumps her army boots on the little bedside table. “You should give them to Claire. She’d make a great replacement Red Sparrow.”

Dean purses his lips. It takes a lot out of him not to roll his eyes at her dramatization. He supposes that’s what he gets for falling in love with a goddamn actress – fucking theater no less. But he knows she’s really going through it right now, so he’s willing to cut her some slack.

“Relax, I’m not giving your part away,” he assures her with an easy smile.

“Well, you have to, if you want to keep the storyline moving forward,” she mumbles grumpily.

“Who cares? It’s just a TV show,” Dean argues.

However, that particular line seems to anger her. “Everyone keeps saying that. It’s not to me,” she contends and finds his eyes, her teary-eyed and desperate look boring into him. “I have people now. People who come with me to the ER. People who care if I’m hurt.”

Dean nods his head in understanding. He knows Cas and Y/N are essentially right, as much as it hurts him to admit it. They are a little family – a weird and incredibly dysfunctional one, but a family nonetheless.

“I know. I’m sorry. It’s just the easiest thing to say, you know?” he says and lets out a sigh. He rests his palm on her thigh and squeezes reassuringly. “How’s this? I don’t wanna make this show without you. I’m not gonna make this show without you.”

Y/N sucks in her lips, forming a tight line as she stares at her hands in her lap. “I thought we were all replaceable.”

Dean’s lips twitch with a smile. He lifts her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Well, you’re not, sweetheart.”

He leans closer and kisses her ardently till her toes curl. When she hisses slightly in pain, he pulls back, both of them chuckling.

Then, Dean swallows the heavy lump in his throat. He knows he has to come clean, literally and figuratively. He takes her hand in his again. This time for his own comfort.

“Listen, uhm, tonight was kinda my fault… on some level, at least,” the director starts.

Y/N’s brow creases, but she brushes it off with a disbelieving snort. “Why? Did you tell Jo to break my ankle?”

Dean chuckles lightly, although he doesn’t feel like laughing, considering he’s scared to death she’ll dump him in a few seconds once she hears the truth. “No, uhm, but she might’ve found something in my office that caused a lack of judgment on her part. I-, uhm, I might not have been as clean and drug-free as you believed me to be.”

“Oh. I see…” Y/N bites her lower lip and averts her gaze back to her hands, her fingers fumbling in a nonsensical pattern like a nervous tic. And then, she doesn’t say anything for serval minutes, while Dean slowly feels himself go crazy.

“So, uh, where do we stand? Are we mad? Disappointed? Disgusted? Sad?” Dean pries and pokes for an answer.

“I guess, uhm, disappointed,” she says finally. Dean sighs internally as his heart tightens. He had hoped it wouldn’t be that one. It’s the worst one. “And sad,” she adds.

Strike that. This is the worst one.

“Okay, uhm, good,” he replies before noticing her cocked brow at his answer. “I mean, not good-good, obviously. Just good to know where we are… So, where are we? Is this-, you know, is it over? Between us?”

Y/N glances at him slightly and takes a thoughtful breath. “No,” she says, and his heart rejoices with relief. “I kinda already knew you’re not perfect.”

Dean’s brow furrows momentarily before he smirks cockily. “Agree to disagree.”

Y/N tries to hide a smile at his joke. She’s unsuccessful in her endeavor. She squeezes his hand in reassurance. “It’s not your fault. It was still Jo’s choice,” she tells him. “Are you, you know, still…?”

Dean vehemently shakes his head. “No, no, I’m not. I haven’t for a couple of days, and I won’t anymore. I promise. Especially after tonight. I learned my lesson. I’m done with it. For good.”

“Okay,” she accepts.

Dean frowns a little because her forgiveness feels too easy, but he doesn’t get a chance to prod some more, her soft lips on his shutting him up for now. The kiss is fervent and sweet all the same. It makes his head spin and provides him with a completely different high – a much better one.

“Well, looks like we’re gonna have to get creative with this thing, huh?” Dean grins smugly and gently pats her cast.

Y/N throws him a raised look that borders on amusement. Of course, all he ever thinks about is sex. But she doesn’t mind a little sexy goofiness in her life right now and leans in for another kiss. He is a pretty fantastic kisser, after all.

“I got markers!” Cas hops cheerily into the room with a few pens held high in the air, watching the two of them quickly pull apart with red-tinted cheeks. The producer smiles adoringly at them. “You guys! Look at you! This is so exciting!”

“Oh, uh–”

Dean sees the panic spread on Y/N’s face and quickly swoops in, sending Cas a friendly but threatening look. “Hey, uh, buddy? Keep this between us, alright?”

“You got it! My lips are sealed.” Cas winks and locks his lips with his fingers, but his excitement isn’t even close to disappearing. “And I paid your bill, by the way!”

“Oh, Cas, you didn’t have to do that,” Y/N tells him sweetly and seems clearly flattered by his care.

“Yes, I did, ‘cause you couldn’t possibly afford it,” Cas says bluntly and uncaps a marker, signing his name on her cast. “And I felt so guilty.”

A knock on the door makes the three look up and watch Jo hesitantly amble inside, her head lowered in resignation and guilty admission. She holds up a duffel bag with a nervous smile.

“I thought you might wanna leave the hospital with pants on, so I brought you your favorite sweats from the motel,” she says and hands Y/N the peace offering. Y/N accepts it with a small smile. Jo then glances awkwardly at Dean and Cas. “As you may have heard, Y/N and I got into a big fight,” she explains the general tension in the room.

Dean nods curtly. “Oh, yeah, everybody heard.”

“Yeah, the cashier at the gift shop couldn’t stop talking about it.” Cas chuckles, causing Y/N and Jo to blush in embarrassment.

“So, what’s the plan, Dean?” Y/N looks expectantly up at him like he’s an oracle with all the answers.

Lucky for her, though, he’s cocky enough to provide them.

“You know what? We got four episodes left, right? Fuck it. No one’s watching. No one cares. Y/N can’t even walk. So I say we do whatever the hell we want,” the director suggests and grins broadly. “Let’s just set the weirdos free and see what the fuck happens.”

“I hope you guys have fun,” Y/N mutters with a hint of bitterness in her voice.

“Oh, you’re not getting out of it,” Dean interjects her pouting and self-pity. “You’re like a one-woman idea machine. I need you. Where we’re going, you don’t need legs.”

Jo smiles encouragingly at her and sits down on the edge of the bed as Cas hands her a marker. The two women then chat as if nothing ever happened, while the producer and the director share a confused look over the sudden ceasefire. But they take it as what it is – a gift from above.

Girls…

“Hey, uh, there’s something I need to do,” Dean says then. “Are you guys okay here to keep Y/N some company? I’ll pick you up right after.”

The three of them nod, and Dean feels confident enough to leave Y/N’s side. After all the emotional turmoil and chaos over the last week, the director direly needs an appropriate outlet.

The Impala pulls into the parking lot of H-ELLTV in Anaheim. It’s early in the morning, the sun barely up but still powerful enough that the beams sting his green eyes. Maybe it’s also the lack of sleep that causes it to hurt more.

Drugs aren’t an option. It’s too early to drink, even for him. And sex would’ve been possible, but he doesn’t want to be the ass that asks for it while his not-girlfriend is suffering in the hospital.

So, here he stands, next to Dicksuck Roman’s spot, where a beautiful dark blue Aston Martin V8 is parked.

Ever since Y/N told him what that creep tried to do, Dean’s been raking his brain with different revenge fantasies. Sure, he could cut off the guy’s dick and make him eat it, or cook his balls over a BBQ grill, or chop his head off and dunk it in acidic cleaning supplies. But Dean knows the only way to truly hurt a man is through his car.

The green-eyed director then pops open Baby’s trunk and hauls out a golf club. It was a gift from Cas that came with an invitation to hit the green in Pasadena for “networking purposes.” As if. Cas eventually accepted that Dean would rather kill himself before setting foot in that country club. (He might’ve also threatened to kill everyone else in it, which scared Cas enough to drop it.)

Dean’s heart soars high to the cloudless sky above as he administers the first few blows, shattering the front window and thoroughly denting the scratch-free and glistening hood.

Not anymore, Dean thinks with sinister joy.

He stops mid-swing, though, when Crowley walks by. The two men look at each other for a moment. Will the manager call the cops? Will Cas have to post bail on top of paying hospital bills?

But Crowley only bobs his head in acknowledgment. “He pisses off a lot of people,” he offers as an explanation and strolls ahead into the building, not paying Dean any more mind.

So, Dean continues hitting and swinging and batting until his lungs burn and his arms hurt. Only then does he drive back to the hospital across town to pick up his friends with a lightener heart.

23. Every Breath you Take

*sighs blissfully* Aah, some sweet fluff before all the drama starts... (And yes, I consider this chapter less drama and lots of fluff. That's how far we've come 😂)

Let me know how you've enjoyed this part! Are we rid of Benny for good? Is Y/N going to break Dean's plastic heart? 👀

TAGS:

Jensen: @alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey @deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies @agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @iamsapphine @globetrotter28 @mxltifxnd0m @lacilou @feyresqueen @suckitands33 @onlyangel-444 @syrma-sensei @perpetualabsurdity

#plastic hearts #dean winchester #director!dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female reader #dean winchester reader insert #director!dean winchester x actress!reader #dean winchester series #actor au #dean winchester au #supernatural #supernatural reader insert #supernatural au #supernatural fanfic #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester x y/n

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