#but actor x crew I’m fine

[sexlapis]

Ho! I loooooooveeee your actor toji fics! Is it possible to get added to the taglist? Thank you ~

Also an idea: a bts scene of reader getting sick on set(perhaps even collapsing) due to fatigue and toji taking care of them- I feel like that'd be such a hit ship moment irl :D

thank you for liking my fics <3 you can be added to the tag list 🩵.

and omg yeah i love that idea of reader overworking themselves and toji looking after them :’). and yeah i didn’t make it a behind the scenes clip i made a short fic abt it bc i do not know when to stop.. like give me an idea and i will fly away w it like a bird liek..i don’t even think this is what you asked for srsly…i hope you don’t mind (but i’ll add it to my tojiyn headcanons hehe)

cw: actor toji x actress reader, hurt/comfort, angst to fluff, swearing, petnames (‘kid’, ik people don’t like this one but i think it’s so sweet & so toji :)), collapsing, mentions of skipping meals/not eating, poor sleeping habits, feelings of loneliness & inadequacy, crying, toji taking care of reader, i made this way more angsty than you asked sorry :(

wc: 2k+

you dragged yourself through the doors of the studio, immediately bombarded by directors, stylists, scrip writers and other cast members on your way to the dressing room, only fuelling your fatigue and stress.

sleep was a foreign concept at this point. five hours at most. so were healthy, filling meals - the last time you ate was yesterday at noon, and for breakfast today all you had was a cup of coffee, not helping your nervous, exhausted state.

admittedly, you were not doing very well. you felt that your acting was subpar and you felt lonely and isolated on set. while everyone went with their friends for a break or lunch, you sat by yourself in your dressing room, your only company being the silence.

sure, toji was also on set too, but he played a very minor role, so he wasn’t always there. and even when he was sometimes, he would hang out with the other crew members, which wasn’t a problem of course, but it did sting a little when he chose them over you.

you just felt so lonely, anxious and quite frankly upset at yourself and the circumstances you find yourself in.

there are a few knocks at your dressing room door and you weakly tell them to come in.

toji peeks is head in. “hey, kid. we start in five..” he takes a look at your weary face, dark eye bags prominent even through the makeup the stylists caked on and the frown on your lips and just knows something is wrong.

“are you ‘right?” he asks quietly, like you’re a deer who’s about to run away at the slightest of sounds.

“yes, i’m fine.” you lie, a voice in the back of your mind wishing he’d just ignore you like everyone else on this damn set does.

“‘you sure? ‘cause you don’t look-”

“i said im fine! just get out.” you snap, heart beating and breathing heavily at your own outburst.

fuck. you didn’t mean to say that.

but toji doesn’t look offended. he just nods and walks away footsteps fading as you put your head in your hands and sob.

so there you are, acting in front of the camera with your colleague in a scene where toji appears in too and you just seem off. everyone assumes it’s just not your day today and they’re not exactly wrong. you lines were slightly forced, tired and you were jittery and clearly apprehensive, like you didn’t even want to be here.

“cut!” the director calls out, more than annoyed with your behaviour. it was the sixth take and you’re really trying to make it believable, but it’s futile.

“this is the sixth take _____. this is ridiculous. get your act together. let’s take five.”

you look down at your shoes, face hot and chest thudding with embarrassment due to the director calling you out in front of everybody. tears well up in your eyes and you sigh, blinking them away as everyone starts talking again, walking away leaving you standing there like an idiot.

it all becomes too much for you. your empty stomach, oncoming headache, exhausted body, dry mouth, furrowed eyebrows, sweaty palms-

you let your script fall out of your hand as you stumble off the green screen, trying to get to your room before a hand is grabbing your arm. you turn around and it’s toji again.

“hey..” he leans down slightly to your height, scanning you over once. “you don’t look so good, _____-”

you shrug him off, vision becoming blurred with black static and limbs heavy and shaky. “i-i jus’ need to go. to my..uhm-” you stop, rubbing a hand down your face harshly. “i just-”

and then there is black.

౨ৎ

you come to and realise that you are laying on your dressing room couch, staring up at the ceiling. reaching up, you feel a wet, cool cloth on your head. you take it off. still fuzzy and body essentially lethargic, you try to sit up.

“hey, hey, hey.” toji whispers.

oh, toji’s here.

“take it easy.” he helps you sit up on the arm of the couch. he hands you a bottle of water and you drink it like a god.

“wait, what happened?” you ask, still confused and disoriented.

“you fuckin’ fainted that’s what,” he states bluntly. “scared the fuckin’ dogshit outta me.”

“oh.”

toji sits beside you on a chair, looking at you closely. you look down.

“the med team checked you out.” he tells you. “said you fainted, collapsed-whatever the fuck. ‘cos of stress and exhaustion. they even checked your blood sugar and said it was low as fuck.” he pauses. “not dangerously low,” he adds at the sight of your worried expression, “but.. low enough.”

you sigh, falling back on the couch. you think back to how the director shouted at you, how annoyed he was, and how humiliated you felt. tears start to form again and you cover your face with your hands, not wanting to cry in front of toji. you felt like you’ve had enough embarrassment for today.

toji leans forward. “what’s happening with you?”

the way he said it, so soft and concerned, makes the tears fall down and cause sobs to escape your mouth, hiccuped breaths falling from your mouth.

“hey, hey, hey..” toji coos. he reaches to you and makes you sit up again so he can take you into his arms. you let him, sobbing into his shoulder and sucking up all the comfort he gives you. toji’s big hand strokes your hair and the other caresses your back softly.

“shh, sh, sh…” he calms you down a little, you sobs turning into sniffles. he leans back and gives you space but his hands stay planted on your back. “tell toji what’s wrong.”

you hum sadly, looking down and gulping. “i’m..i’m tired. i wanna sleep..”

toji waits for you to continue. he can see you want to say more so he doesn’t hurry you along, he just rubs your back and nods to let you know you’re listening.

“i..” you take a breath, “i dunno what to do..i can’t do this fucking role.. i’m fucking tired half the fucking day and my so called colleagues don’t even like me!” you try to calm yourself down, taking another shaky breath. “and i just feel..lonely all the time..” you cry out the last few words, feeling another sob session coming up and toji pulls you close, letting you ruin his shirt with your tears as he rocks you back and forth in his arms.

“it’s okay, it’s okay..” he coos, resting his face in your hair.

you both stay like that for a few moments, you weeps dying down before toji talks.

“you can play this part, _____. ‘you have any idea how good your are, huh? you can act circles around half ‘these guys.”

you scoff, pulling your lips together. “i dunno about that..”

“‘m serious. _____, you can act, okay? ‘wouldn’t have made it this far if you couldn’t.”

“yeah but..this one’s hard..” you sigh, voice cracking but toji doesn’t let you start again.

“yeah, acting’s hard. but i can help you,” toji cups your wet face with his hands, wiping the tear streaks that paint you face, “we can all help you. the crew, your friends, that bitchass director. i’ll put a gun to everyone’s head to make them fuckin’ help you with this.”

you giggle at his seriousness and he huffs, relieved that you’re relaxing a little.

“they don’t hate you, y’know. everybody on set. the cast. they just think you’re a little shy and quiet. they don’t hate you, okay?” toji reassures you. you nod absentmindedly and he shakes your head from side to side to make you pay attention, making you smile, eyes crinkling even though they’re still tear stricken. “there she is..who the fuck could hate you, huh?”

“ugh, toji.” you roll your eyes, sniffling and rubbing your face. you pull away from him. “ugh..i just want my bed right now.”

“yeah..i know it ain’t my place but told the director that you’re taking a few days off. you need a break, kid.”

you didn’t even argue with him. you couldn’t.

“yeah, i do.” you agree.

suddenly, a loud rumble from your stomach erupts, it was like an earthquake.

toji laughs. “someone’s hungry.”

you groan. “‘m starving. haven’t eaten since yesterday.”

“we’re getting you something to eat.” he states, leaving no room for objections.

toji stands, holding his hand out for you to take. you do, his large, calloused hand dwarfing yours as he helps you stand up. “can you walk?”

“i will if there’s food involved.”

“that’s good.” toji chuckles, “how’s takeout sound?”

a/n: had to write a whole fic abt this i apologise 🥸 will add the tag list later i just keep forgetting the users </3

#📫.toji #📫.answered #toji x reader #toji x you #toji x y/n #toji x self insert #toji fluff #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro x y/n #toji fushiguro x self insert #toji fushiguro fluff #toji fushiguro fanfic #actor!toji #actress!reader #toji zenin x reader #toji zenin x you

[blurredcolour]

II. "Just Had To Trust You."

"Trust" Series Masterlist

John "Bucky" Egan x WAC!Female Reader

The second half of August brings with it the horrors of the Regensburg/Schweinfurt mission, Bucky's absence in Africa, and two smaller missions in France. With this as the backdrop to your blossoming relationship, the pair of you find creative ways to connect with one another.

Warnings: Language, Alcohol Consumption, Death, Grief, Minor Bucky Injury, Blood, Scars, Minor Reader Injury, Hospital Setting, Inevitable Historical and Military Inaccuracies, Mature/Explicit Themes [thigh riding, inexperienced reader, allusion to male masturbation] - 18+ ONLY.

Author’s Note: Thank you all so much for the warm reception you gave part one. That combined with my evil brain has given us a full series! Just a reminder that reader has been given a brother for sake of plot. This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the Apple TV+ series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.

Word Count: 6713

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

The day of August 17th dawned so thick with fog, it was difficult to tell it had even dawned at all. The walk from your quarters to the mess and then onto the control tower was fraught with anxiety – the fear that a vehicle might suddenly appear behind you through the milky atmosphere driving you to constantly glance back over your shoulder. Eventually, you decided to walk just alongside the road through the damp grass, listening to it squeak against the leather of your shoes, the only sound around you once you parted ways with your friends.

Cutting across the field in front of the equipment hangar, you gasped as Bucky stepped out of the mists in front of you like some kind of apparition from a ghost story. You gulped harshly at the way your stomach dropped in response to that mental imagery.

“Morning, doll. Seems like someone left the soup on the stove a little too long.”

You managed a chuckle, taking in his flight suit, his life jacket – or Mae West as the boys called them. He was flying today then. “I’m sure it’ll clear up soon, Major Egan.”

His lips twitched fondly, and he stepped closer to murmur in your ear, the fine hairs of his moustache tickling the delicate skin there. “See you in a few days, doll.”

“Take care, Bucky.” You whispered emphatically in return, and he stepped back to reach into his flight bag, producing the book you had lent him.

“I’ll have that answer for you promptly on my return, Lieutenant.”

You grinned softly. “I expect you will, Major.”

You turned to watch him go as he took long, easy strides to join his crew waiting on the truck to be driven out to their plane, disappearing in a swirl of persistent, pervasive fog. “I’ll see you soon.” You murmured after him.

Seven days.

Seven agonizing days of little news and empty skies passed as you impatiently awaited his return. The decision to send the group destined for Regensburg nearly five hours ahead of those bound for Schweinfurt had been catastrophic. It took almost seventy-two hours for the 12th to reach those who had made it to Telergma, and when numbers and names finally made their way back to Thorpe Abbotts, the cost of it all sunk in like a stone.

Rather than wasting the return trip to East Anglia, it was decided the survivors would undertake a retaliatory strike against some Luftwaffe bases in Bordeaux, one more hurdle to clear before they made it back to safety. It was mid-afternoon on August 24th by the time the droning of plane engines filled the air once again. Taking a steadying breath, you grit your teeth and forced yourself to focus on the keys of your typewriter as the brass all hustled outside to count the number of returnees.

‘Please let Bucky be among them. Please let him be unharmed.’ You had closed your eyes briefly to send up your silent prayer before launching back into your work.

It was nearly an hour later when, report finished, you tucked the neatly typed sheets of paper into their folder to deliver to Colonel Harding and stood only to meet the eyes of one Major John Egan through the window overlooking the Operations Room. He looked weary, sunburnt, with cuts and abrasions adorning his face and neck, unsteady on his feet, but nevertheless flashed you a brilliant, devil-may-care smile.

‘Thank you…thank you for bringing him back to me.’

You exhaled deeply for the first time in over a week, the folder nearly slipping from your fingers, contents nearly scattering across the floor. Mercifully, you managed to avoid that outcome, albeit with a fair bit of fumbling, tucking it securely against your side to prevent further mishaps. The next time you looked to Bucky he was smirking at you, eyes twinkling knowingly, before he gestured with his head toward where the washrooms were. Glancing at your colleagues, heads bent diligently over their work, you looked back to him and raised a finger to beg for one moment.

He nodded in silent understanding, sauntering toward the hallway casually. You took a moment before letting your desk mate know you were delivering a file and then taking a bathroom break. She nodded vaguely as you headed across the room to place the folder in the outbox before making your way to the washrooms. Furrowing your brows in confusion as you found the corridor empty, you barely managed to smother your startled cry as Bucky poked his head out of the janitor’s closet and pulled you into the cramped space with him.

“Bucky!” You hissed as he pressed you back against the door, his lips pressing tightly against yours, silencing any further admonishment you might have been able to summon.

Clinging the to straps of his harness, you rocked up onto the balls of your feet, pressing flush against him, a wordless expression of the gratitude you felt for his safe return. He had barely parted his lips when you mirrored the movement, welcoming his tongue with your own. A soft grunt of pleasure left his nose, his fingers digging into your hips tightly. The telltale tinge of copper seeped into the kiss, making you pull back sharply, groping for the pull string on the lightbulb dangling from the ceiling behind him.

You frowned deeply to see his lower lip was oozing blood. “You should go to the hospital, Bucky, you’re still bleeding…”

“M’fine.” He rumbled tiredly, cupping the back of your head gently as his thumb traced your left eyebrow.

You sighed softly, leaning into his touch as your eyes slid closed.

“My definitive answer is Blood Pressure.” He spoke in a hushed tone and your eyes fluttered open in confusion.

“What?”

His other hand left your hip to dig into the pocket of his flight jacket, producing the borrowed book, holding it out to you with a satisfied grin.

“You’ve already read the whole thing again?!” You gasped, eyes wide.

“Couldn’t very well keep you waiting now, could I?” He smirked and stole another kiss.

“I’m going back to my desk and you’re going to the hospital, please?” You looked to him pleadingly.

He sighed heavily. “That look is utterly unfair, doll…particularly in my condition.”

Your lips twitched slightly as you fought the urge to smile, doing your utmost to hold the plaintive expression until he huffed and pressed one last, copper-laced, sloppy kiss on your lips.

“Fine.” He conceded and you pressed your lips to his forehead tenderly.

“Thank you, Bucky.”

Slipping from his arms reluctantly, you peered out into the hallway before making a dash into the washroom, cleaning your face of his blood and tidying your hair and uniform before rushing back to your desk, hoping he would hold up his end of the bargain.

Judging from how well he healed over the next few days, you were fairly convinced he had done as you asked. His lips had healed to their normal supple perfection, though it seemed he would be left with a few scars across his nose, cheek, and forehead. Unfortunately, you had not been able to sneak a moment to confirm if he had indeed gone to visit the hospital or not. When your duties did not occupy you, it seemed that his did and vice versa. Passing glances or encounters while surrounded by colleagues seemed to be all the fates afforded you the rest of the week.

The effect it had on your mood was something that did not escape Mary, Vi, and Ruth – for despite your best efforts to conceal your activities, they had been onto you since you had returned from that eventful trip to the pub.

“We’ll just have to make sure you’re simply irresistible at tonight’s dance, then.” Mary grinned darkly upon your return to your shared quarters that Friday, a dangerous gleam in her eye as she closed in on you with Vi at her elbow.

“Oh yes, Mary, a little feminine revenge ought to remind the Major of his priorities.” She drawled, arms suddenly loaded with supplies – from where they had appeared, you were not entirely sure.

You landed heavily on your bottom upon your cot, staring up at them warily as Ruth laughed from her perch across the way.

“Just give in, darling, it’ll be less painful that way.” Came her friendly advice, though her words did not prove at all true.

There was next to no consideration for your comfort while your hair was combed and restyled, hisses of pain escaping your lips as a plethora of pins scraped along your scalp as they were pushed into place to secure the style they were creating.

“Beauty is pain, darling.” Vi pursed her lips in mock sympathy, but you were altogether relieved when they declared their creation stable and moved onto your makeup.

Somehow, despite their dedication to perfecting your look for the evening, and then freshening up a little themselves, the four of you still managed to arrive at the officer’s club before Bucky and many of the men. Securing a martini and your favorite spot along the wall, you forcefully shooed them off to dance with the early arrivals who quickly approached them. You glass was roughly a third empty when Bucky arrived with his best friend Buck and their tight knit group. All eyes turned toward him, as always, that infectious grin and magnetism making him ever popular.

Now that he had arrived, the party would truly begin. Taking a deep sip of your drink, you nearly choked as his eyes met yours and he made a beeline straight for you. Swallowing roughly, your eyes widened as he plucked the glass from your grasp to set it on a nearby table before holding out his hand to you expectantly.

“I’m not very good at this…” You warned him softly, voice a bit thick from your battle to swallow your drink.

“All you gotta do is hold on, doll, I’ll do the rest.” He winked and wrapped his fingers around yours once you finally set your hand in his.

Leading you onto the dancefloor, he pulled you close, one hand at your waist, the other holding yours out to the side. Bucky grinned at you warmly as he began to lead you across the floor confidently, and you clung to his shoulder, feeling the eyes of almost everyone on you. His actions were so public in contrast to the moments you had shared previously. So very declarative. It took a lot of strength not to hide against his shoulder from all the attention the pair of you were receiving. Even your friends were shooting you grins and nods and little victory signals from behind him.

“You got all dolled up tonight, is there a mission I should know about?” He teased gently, immediately pulling you from your thoughts.

“I was ambushed.” You huffed ruefully.

“Ah, so this mission has already been carried out.” Bucky smirked, lips stretching wider as you laughed softly, relaxing somewhat in his arms as he continued to lead you confidently. “You look gorgeous…can’t wait to get that lipstick all over my face again.” He hummed against your ear, and you smacked his shoulder playfully even as your pulse jumped at your throat, feeling his laughter shake through him.

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long, Kidd thought it was the perfect moment to launch into an excruciating meeting about…well I wasn’t listening, quite honestly.” He smirked, making you shake your head fondly.

“You ought to listen to the man, he is your Air Exec you know…” You teased gently.

He hummed thoughtfully before shaking his head. “I was too busy thinking about how I’d rather be doing this, right here, right now, with you.”

You met his eyes briefly, startled by the transparency of his statement, before glancing away, teeth buried in your lip in a vain attempt to moderate your rapid heartbeat.

Bucky kept you on the dancefloor for at least five more songs, until your feet started to hurt, your legs getting heavy. “Let’s get you another drink.” He kissed your temple and slid his arm around your waist, leading you to the bar. He ordered a whisky for himself and another martini for you, finding a table in the corner and sitting in the chair right beside you. “For someone who claimed to be not very good at dancing, you held your own, doll.”

You smiled at him shyly. “Just had to trust you.” His resulting grin made you bow your head in response to its brilliance, shivering as his hand squeezed your knee beneath the shelter of the tablecloth.

Taking a steadying sip of your drink, you glanced at him through your lashes, biting your lip at his eyes had never left you, his fingers tightening where they still rested over your skirt. You glanced to the side, suddenly afraid you might forget how to breathe under the intensity of his gaze, sucking in a somewhat ragged breath as you watched another couple canoodling in the opposite corner of the room. There was nothing subtle about the way they were pressed against one another, despite the very public place in which they found themselves, and you averted your gaze yet again to watch the bartender mixing drinks as you sipped yours steadily.

The resulting loosening of your muscles as the alcohol reached your extremities gave you the courage to look in Bucky’s direction once more, taking in his profile as he eyed the dancefloor, toe tapping to the beat. His arm was slung over the back of your chair, an action you had no memory of, and he was slouched low in his seat, legs spread wide. His posture was altogether too inviting, and had you gnawing on your lip once more, yet unable to tear your eyes away despite the alarm bells ringing inside your head.

“See something you like, doll?” Bucky’s voice in your ear made you jump. Made you wonder when he had closed the distance.

You hoped, briefly, that the Luftwaffe might indulge you by dropping a bomb directly on your head right then. No such luck. Bucky’s hand slid higher on your leg to squeeze your thigh, forcing you to raise your gaze to meet his. His normally stormy blue eyes were notably darker, pinning you to the spot as his tongue darted out to wet his slightly parted lips.

“Come on.” He spoke suddenly, sliding to his feet and holding out his hand again.

Following him back to the dancefloor, you gasped audibly as he pulled you improperly close, his hand splaying against your lower back as his cheek pressed against yours. “After this song, meet me at our bench. I’ll be five minutes behind you.” His lips brushed against your skin as he spoke, making your feet clumsy.

Bucky simply pulled you closer in response, bearing more of your weight to keep you dancing smoothly as you somehow managed a nod in agreement, heart hammering in your ears. There was no mission tomorrow, the control tower would be relatively quiet, and therefore so would the bench outback where you had shared your conversation about Runyon’s book. As the band wound down their tune, Bucky shuffled the pair of you to the edge of the floor, kissing your cheek softly.

“Goodnight, doll.”

You exhaled shakily, nodding as you mentally reached down to the bottom of your toes to summon your voice. “Night, Bucky.”

He gave you a crooked smile and one more kiss on the cheek before releasing you gently, watching patiently as you lurched into motion, heading toward the door and out into the relatively cooler night air. Making your way along the road, you swallowed back a curse as your eyes met those of your Captain who was standing watch over the route to the women’s quarters.

“Evening, Ma’am.” You saluted quickly.

“Lieutenant.” Captain Miller nodded crisply watching you continue on before you cut around behind the barracks and circled back toward the control tower to meet Bucky.

Due to the necessitated detour, he was already there, waiting, hands on his hips, shoulders slightly raised with tension. You frowned guiltily and crept up to gently set a hand on his arm, feeling him jump.

“Sorry, I had to appease the dragon-lady, she saw me leave and I–”

He nodded once before kissing you fiercely, making you sigh heavily against his lips. Sliding your arms around his neck, you allowed your fingertips to brush against the curls at the nape of his neck. His chest rumbled happily, his tongue tasting so sharply of whisky as it slid along yours that you wondered if he had taken those five extra minutes to have one more drink before following you.

“Thought you’d changed your mind, doll.” He grinned against your lips before he began to nibble along your jaw, sending ripples of gooseflesh down your neck.

“Uh-uh.” You breathed, gripping the skin of his neck as your knees felt about ready to give out.

“Just hold on tight.” He tilted his head to suck at your earlobe, gripping your hips as he slowly sank down to sit on the bench behind him, pulling you with him.

His hands slid further down your legs, guiding them apart to straddle his thigh, pushing your skirt higher to allow you to settle snuggly against his broad quadricep. Your jaw dropped open as your core pressed tightly against him, a mortifying squeak-like sound escaping your throat.

“Yeah?” He smirked, kissing back towards your lips. “Figured by the way you were staring you might want to give it a whirl.”

If you had been able to speak, his mouth would have swallowed any reply that you could have summoned as it sealed tightly over yours once more. As it was, you brain was filled with static like a wireless that could not quite be tuned to a frequency. Your predicament only worsened as his fingers curled into your hips, ever so slowly rocking them forward against him, making you whimper raggedly. The sensation was only outdone by the feeling of him dragging you backward, the friction causing an unspeakable reaction to roll through your body.

“That feel good, doll?” Bucky rasped against your lips, and you nodded rapidly, mewling as he repeated the motion, though you also began to move of your own volition, chasing the feeling needily. “Sorry, didn’t quite catch that.” He teased and you tugged at the hair peaking out the back of his cap.

“Yes!” You gasped sharply before kissing him hungrily, your leg accidentally brushing against the bulge at the apex of his thighs, shuddering at the groan you earned from him in kind.

Perhaps it made you a wicked woman to take satisfaction in giving him pleasure, but it went to your head faster than any martini you had ever consumed. Digging the toes of your shoes into the grass, you shuffled closer to him so your thigh might brush against his length with each of your self-serving motions.

“Christ, doll.” He growled under his breath.

“Feel…good?” You panted teasingly, biting your lip at his ragged laugh.

“People underestimate you at their own goddamn peril.” He nipped at your chin, breath fanning hotly down your neck as you worked your body against his thigh with increasing need. “Try…this…” He grunted and tilted your pelvis forward.

You slumped forward against his chest, mouth gaping in a silent moan at the intense pleasure radiating from the new point of pressure. Legs nearly giving out from the blinding power of it, you were immensely grateful when Bucky obligingly kept on guiding your hips, continuing to pull the strings of tension tighter and tighter within your body.

“B…Bucky…” You gasped against his neck as your thighs began to tremble, on the precipice of something, wondering if this is what it felt like just before a B17 lifted off the runway.

“Go on, doll, it’s gonna be great.” He rumbled, pace not slackening, though his arms must have surely been aching by that point.

Inhaling sharply, you pressed your face tighter to his neck, desperately trying to smother your cry of pleasure as every string of tension snapped inside you with the force and brilliance of a fireworks display on the fourth of July. Melting against him, you were naught but a shuddering mess, underwear ruined, struggling to satisfy your body’s demand for oxygen as you gasped for breath. Bucky’s grip eased on your hips, his hands shifting to caress your back tenderly as he kissed down your temple to your cheek.

“As promised?” He cooed and you shivered at the feeling of his breath against your skin, every sensation still heightened.

“Better.” You licked your lips and dropped your hands to his chest, slowly pushing yourself up to sit properly, shuddering at the pressure against your still throbbing parts.

“Here, doll.” He carefully lifted you up to swing your legs across his lap carefully. “Take it easy.” He kissed your cheek tenderly, squeezing your side.

You sighed softly, swallowing thickly as you lifted your eyes to his. “People underestimate your sweetness at a great loss to themselves, Bucky.” Cupping his cheek, you guided his mouth to yours to place a gentle, appreciative kiss on his lips.

Feeling the curl of his smile, you could not help but echo the expression, breaking the seal of your mouth against his.

“Our little secret.” He teased, voice still raspy.

Hearing the crunch of footsteps on the gravel path leading up to the control tower, you tensed against him, frowning as you became acutely aware of the persistent problem that remained in his trousers.

“We should go.” He whispered and you nodded quickly.

“Sorry you’re still…” You trailed off, sliding onto oddly unstable legs, grateful for his bracing hands on your hips as he rose to his feet.

“Don’t worry about me, doll, I can take care of myself.” He pressed his lips to your ear after uttering his quiet statement, making you swallow almost painfully as your mouth went dry.

You lost all ability to function for a moment, swept up in the lurid possibilities contained in that simple phrase, before the sound of a door opening cut through the night, and your stupor.

“Night.” You whispered sharply before sprinting off towards the barracks, keeping to the edges of the field and hoping to stay out of sight.

Luck, it seemed, was not on your side, as Captain Miller called your name just a few feet shy of your quarters. You had been so very close. Turning quickly to face her, you scrambled for some excuse as to why you were not on the other side of the door behind you.

“Lieutenant, did you get lost on your way over here?” She arched an eyebrow coldly and you had to remind yourself the mechanics involved in a proper breath.

‘Inhale. Pause. Exhale.’

“No, Ma’am, I just…realized when I got back here that Vi had asked me to be sure she didn’t stay out too late, and that I had left without her.”

Captain Miller’s eyes narrowed skeptically. “And where is your Georgian, troublemaking friend now, hmm?”

The lie had come so naturally, had been so plausible, but now that you were wrapped up in it, it felt like it might just drag you down to the bottom like an anchor.

“I’m here, Captain Miller, Ma’am.” Came a cheery call from further up the path, you friend still cloaked by darkness but by some miracle, arriving just in time to save your hide.

An exhale of annoyance escaped Captain Miller’s nostrils as she whipped back to see Vi, arm linked with Ruth’s, sauntering over to your shared quarters.

“Thank you again, darling, for reminding me to come back on time.” She gave you a tremendous, edging on comical, wink and it was all you could do not to grimace.

You may have been off the hook with Captain Miller, but Vi would surely exact a price for this rescue.

“To bed with you all, then, ladies.” Your Captain grunted and the three of you delivered a set of sharp salutes before ducking into your hut quickly.

“All the gory details, now, darling, or Captain Miller will learn just what you’ve been up to, and I’m certain it’s far from innocent.” Vi grinned wickedly as she dragged you to sit on her cot between herself and Ruth.

You were reticent to share the gory details, wanting to keep the taste of him on your lips, the way it felt to be pressed again him, as just yours. But there was a part of you that revelled in the telling of the simplified, polished version of your encounter on the bench behind the control tower the pair of you called ‘yours.’ And it certainly seemed to satisfy your debt, both Ruth and Vi grinning, crowing in glee by the time you got to Vi’s rescue.

“Our darling dark horse, unexpected champion at taming the rogue Major Egan.”

You scoffed and shook your head shyly. “I doubt that I’ve tamed him, Vi…” You protested but she just smirked with a tilt of her head.

“I’m willing to bet money on that fact, but I suppose time will tell.” She winked dramatically and you just rolled your eyes.

Within four days, Bucky was on his way back to France. The target was an aircraft factory in Rouen near Paris. Of those chosen, you undoubtedly preferred the targets closer to England. The flying time was shorter and thereby so was the period of wondering and waiting. Strategically, you absolutely understood the importance of the targets deep in Germany, but if the Regensburg raid had carried any lessons, it was that those targets were invariably the costliest.

Hoping to catch a glimpse of him before he went up, you retraced your steps, following the same path you had on the morning of the seventeenth, cutting in front of the equipment hangar. The feeling of a leather-clad hand seizing yours and tugging you behind the building had you gasping in surprise before you laid eyes on your target, grinning slightly at your success.

“Morning, doll.” Bucky murmured and kissed you quickly.

You allowed his lips to linger on yours for several seconds before pulling back quickly to glance around, checking if you had been spotted. “Be safe up there, Bucky.” You swallowed and he nodded.

“Think you could wear that lipstick again for me later? It sure looked nice all over my neck.” He smirked broadly as your jaw dropped in response, lifting a hand to smack his shoulder.

“Don’t push your luck.” You chided, wagging a finger playfully, and he laughed brightly in reply, lips meeting your cheek before he strolled over to the waiting crew truck.

You watched him go from your obscured vantage point, waiting until the vehicle had pulled away before you turned to continue on your way to your desk.

“Lieutenant?”

You jumped and turned to see the post clerk, Petty, hurrying towards you with a letter in his hand.

“Letter for you, Ma’am.”

“Thank you very much, Sergeant.” You smiled. “Did you manage to get the boys first?” You asked curiously, and he nodded so quickly you were worried his head might fall right off his shoulders.

“Yes Ma’am, got ‘em at breakfast.” His boyish grin of pride was infectious, tugging at the corners of your mouth, briefly easing the tension that seeped into your bones on mission days.

“Well done, Sergeant. Have a good day!” You returned the quick salute he gave you before he hurried on his way, heavy bag hefted over his shoulder.

Glancing over the envelope you swallowed as it appeared to be written in your father’s handwriting rather than your mother’s – unusual. She was often the one to manage the letter writing and mailing process and he would add a paragraph or two depending on what was happening back home that he thought would be of interest to you. Swallowing down your sense of unease, you slid the envelope into your pocket to focus on the mission. The letter had already taken several weeks to reach you, a few more hours would not make any difference.

Shortly after noon, they were already back; Colonel Harding walking past the office muttering about Major Egan’s displeasure in the weather. It seemed only one plane had been able to drop their bombs, and not even on the primary target. Exhaling deeply to hear confirmation of his return, the ever-present feeling of the envelope in your pocket suddenly took on an immense weight. Claiming an upset stomach, which only garnered a knowing grin from your desk mate, you excused yourself to step out back, wandering to the edge of the field to tear into the flap with somewhat savage impatience. Heart in your throat, your shaking fingers pulled the folded paper from within its confines and your eyes began scanning across the page rapidly, your sense of unease cresting like a tidal wave.

I need you to be very brave for me now, dear girl…

Your father’s words blurred in front of your eyes behind a sudden influx of tears. You did not even need to read the rest of the sentence to know. Perhaps you had known all morning – since Petty had set the envelope in your hand. Your brother was gone. Most likely had been for weeks, for all the time it had taken the news to reach you, across one ocean and then another. An agonized sob clawed its way up your throat, and you quickly pressed a hand over your mouth to smother it, taking off running towards your quarters, trying desperately to keep your grief at bay until you could be alone.

Eyes barely open, running across rough ground, it was no surprise when your foot snagged on some unseen obstacle, wrenching your right ankle and sending your sprawling across the grass and partially onto a pathway. Your right knee dashed against something sharp, your hands flying forward to catch your body, the letter you had been clasping fluttering to the ground beside you. The gravel bit angrily against your palms as it chewed its way into your tender flesh, and you could feel the warm trickle of blood soaking into your ruined right stocking. The shock and pain of your collision with the earth overthrew your ability to control your emotions and a strangled sob of anguish, frustration, and loss flew from your lips.

“God…dammit…” You gasped out, suddenly furious with the universe at large.

You had never known a world without your brother. His existence was a constant you had apparently come to rely on, and now that he had been wrenched from this plane, you were not certain what you could believe in at all. Allowing just a few tears to escape began an unstoppable chain reaction, your shoulders shaking as you remained sprawled across the ground, clenching fistfuls of gravel as you gave into your grief. It was utterly self-indulgent. You were not the first woman to have lost a brother to this ugly war, but he was yours and he was gone.

‘Get. Up.’ The lone, rational part of your brain chided. ‘Your father needs you to be brave. You’re making a goddamn scene. Get. Up. You petulant child. What if someone sees you.’

Like some kind of prophecy, you heard the quizzical call of your name. You could only hope the owner of that voice was still far enough away for you to make your escape. Sniffling sharply, almost painfully, to try and stem the flow of tears, you tried desperately to struggle to your feet. Your knee throbbed in protest, your ankle wobbling unsteadily, your palms stung in pain, and all you managed was to roll onto your backside.

A pair of strong, familiar arms slid around your waist, pulling you back into a warm chest, the fleece of his collar brushing against your damp cheeks.

“I’ve got you doll.” Bucky murmured into your hair, and you shuddered, fighting back the urge to simply break down sobbing once more.

Holding out your hands awkwardly in front of you, trying to minimize the transfer of blood onto your respective uniforms, you leaned back into his warmth despite the fact that it was a sunny August day.

“Let’s get you to the doctor.” His voice was tense, wound tight with concern, and absent his usually playfulness as he slowly eased you to your feet.

“I’m fine.” You tried to protest, but an inadvertent whimper escaped your mouth as you tried to bear weight on your right leg.

“The hell you are.” He growled a little, pulling your arm over his shoulders, sliding his own arm around your waist, practically hefting you against his body.

As he turned to begin walking you down the path, you gasped to see your abandoned letter tumbling through the grass on the breeze.

“My letter!”

“I got it.” He grunted and set you down, fetching it quickly and shoving it in his pocket before lifting you up against him once more, helping you towards the hospital.

“I’m sorry…” You whispered, keeping your gaze on the ground as you hobbled along beside him, not wanting to meet the eyes of anyone you may have passed along the way.

“Got nothing to apologize for, doll.” He shook his head, assisting you through the doors and into the building that smelled sharply of disinfectant.

“What about the blood on your clothes?” You protested.

“Probably mine.”

You looked to him quickly, frowning at the mirthless smile he delivered – an empty attempt at his usual humor. You noted he did seem to be in one piece, thankfully.

“What on earth…” Gasped the nurse on duty at the front desk as she hurried forward to slide your other arm over her shoulders, leading the pair of you to a bed in triage where she quickly began to remove your ruined stocking and deal with your still-bleeding knee. “This is probably going to need stitches, Lieutenant.”

You nodded silently, frowning down at her as she began to pluck the debris from your hands.

“What’s happened, Lieutenant?” A new voice joined the conversation, and you looked up to see one of the doctors, denoted by his white coat, had come to stand beside the nurse while Bucky loomed in the background, arms crossed, brow furrowed as he watched on intensely.

“Got some bad news, sir.” You replied, seizing the inside of your cheek between your teeth to deliver a sharp, steadying bite to your flesh as your lower lip wobbled traitorously. “It made me clumsy, and I tripped.”

You watched Bucky’s face somber even further than it already was, his arms unfolding to fall at his sides, though his fists remained clenched. You looked away quickly as you were certain he had been able to do the math. To figure out just what terrible news had driven you to your current state and you could not endure his look of sympathy – not and remain collected.

“We’ll take good care of her, Major.” The doctor said in a kind yet obvious dismissal and there was a moment of silence before you heard Bucky approach the side of your bed, pressing his lips to your temple.

“I’m going to let that terrifying Captain of yours know that you won’t be working the rest of the day.” He spoke softly, for only you to hear, and your head whipped to look at him, startled that he would dare take on Captain Miller.

Your eyes fell on the lingering marks on his cheek and nose from the Regensburg raid, wanting to protest, but on finding you simply did not have the energy to fight him, you conceded with a nod. By the time he returned, no more than thirty minutes later, you were cleaned, stitched, and bandaged with a tensor wrap on your ankle and a set of crutches.

“You need to keep off that ankle as much as possible, Lieutenant.” Doctor McLean, it turned out his name was, instructed.

“Yes, sir.”

“Shouldn’t be a problem, Doc, I’ll make sure she gets where she needs to go.” Bucky chimed in and you looked to him, surprised he had returned so quickly.

“Thank you Major, with that in mind, you are free to go young lady. Keep to the pathways moving forward, please?”

“Yes, sir.” You repeated and used the crutches to rise to your feet, tucking them into your armpits to make slow progress toward the door.

Bucky followed along, patiently, removing any obstacles from your path before gesturing at the waiting jeep out front.

“Your chariot, doll.”

You looked to him skeptically. “I highly doubt this would be considered an appropriate use of army property, Major Egan.”

He shrugged. “No one else was using it, come on.” He guided you around to the passenger’s side, helping you onto the bench seat before taking your crutches to stash in the back. “You really, ok?” He asked quietly as he came to sit in the driver’s seat.

Nodding softly, you squeezed his hand as his fingers laced briefly with yours until he was forced to take it back to drive the vehicle. The trip to your quarters was markedly shorter thanks to the jeep, and you were unspeakably relieved to not have had to face it on crutches alone. Turning to thank Bucky, you blinked as he was already climbing out, bringing your crutches around.

“If you get caught in this area…”

“I’m assisting you to your quarters after an injury.” He insisted stubbornly and held them out to you.

You glanced around slowly before taking them, sliding to your feet carefully before making your way inside, once again grateful for his assistance as you hobbled over to your cot and sat heavily.

“Thank you, Bucky, you’ve been a really big help, but if you’re caught in here someone is going to murder you…”

He came to rest on his knees beside your bed, clearly choosing not to hear, or simply not caring about, your continued warnings. You pressed your lips together tightly, tucking them between your teeth as he produced your father’s letter from his pocket, setting it on the blanket beside you.

“I’m real sorry about your brother, doll.” He said quietly, forehead creased with unmasked sympathy. Your defences promptly crumbled, tears welling in your eyes and promptly spilling down your cheeks. “Hey, hey, shhh.” He shifted to quickly sit beside you, cradling you across his lap, holding you close as you turned your face to sob into his chest, fingers twisting into the fleece lining of his jacket where it hung open.

You lost all track of time in his arms, feeling safe enough to simply let your emotions run their course, have their way with you, in the privacy of your quarters. Thus, it was a surprise when you heard the gently clearing of Mary’s throat, lifting your head quickly to see her holding out one of her immaculate hankies while politely keeping her gaze on the rustic ceiling above.

“I have it on good authority that Captain Miller will be checking in on our darling Lieutenant shortly, so you may want to make yourself scarce, Major.” Her tone was warm and conspiratorial.

“Thank you, Mary.” Bucky spoke for the first time in a while, voice somewhat roughened by disuse. “I’ll see you for your ride to breakfast, doll.”

“Bucky, that’s really not necessary–”

“She usually eats at 0545.” Mary cut you off, clearly allying herself with him and against you. “Now I’ll take it from here.”

You huffed affectionately as he pressed his lips to your forehead. “You rest.”

“You, too.” You insisted stubbornly, feeling somewhat encouraged when he bestowed a smirk on you in response, sliding you from his lap onto the cot carefully and making his way out to remove himself and the jeep before your Captain could find him where he ought not to be.

“What was that you were saying to Vi and Ruth about not having tamed him?” Mary smirked, grabbing the hanky to begin dabbing at your cheeks with motherly roughness.

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

Read Part Three - "Trust Me, He's In Good Hands."

"Trust" Series Masterlist

Tag list: @gretagerwigsmuse, @precious-little-scoundrel, @rubyfruitjungle, @storysimp

#john egan x reader #bucky egan x reader #john egan fic #john egan imagine #mota fanfic #masters of the air fanfiction

[syd-vixious]

“I Need a Big Boy!!”

now 

(Picture credit to @akavendeta on twitter)

Pairing: König x gn!reader; “Simon “Ghost” Riley x gn!reader; König x gn!reader x Simon “Ghost” Riley

Warnings: Groping, language, strong men being strong (not proofread)

2nd Person POV

A/N: Hey everyone! I’m so, SO sorry that this took so long. I’ve been having a lot of stuff going on and haven’t gotten the chance to finish this. Sorry if this sucks too. Also I was thinking about instead of doing just the biggest, sweetest boy, I figure I’d add the other big boy. This is definitely gonna be cringe but whatever, I need to get this out of my brain. My apologies if there’s any spelling mistakes, it’s been a minute since I’ve written anything lol. Also this is going based off of my personal headcannons for these guys, which I do plan on posting in the future. For now just a heads up König is Pansexual and goes by he/him pronouns. Simon is Bi and goes by both he/him and they/them pronouns. Obviously they’re in a poly! relationship with the reader. I’m going to try my best with making it gender neutral and not have it just be non-binary!afab!reader, which is fine on my end but I’m trying to be as inclusive as possible.

Anyway, enough of my ranting, I hope you enjoy!

(Btw italicized words is anyone thinking unless it’s in quotations.)

It’s been about two weeks since your partners have come home from deployment. Simon was out running errands for the house while König was getting the kitchen set up for dinner. Thankful for both of them letting you relax on your day off, you were watching the most recent episode of SNL that you missed last weekend on the sofa in the main living area. The episode had Keke Palmer as the host and SZA as the musical guest. After watching the episode for about 20 minutes, SZA and the other actors that were a part of the SNL crew began singing a song about wanting a “big boy,” or “big girl,” for the holidays. A brilliant idea popped up in your mind while you were reaching for your phone during the commercial break.

If I recall my bluetooth speaker should still be in the kitchen from this morning. Hm, let me check.

You went to the settings on your phone to see of the speaker was on to connect, even though it was on the charger.

It was.

You smirked, hitting the button to connect your phone to the speaker. König was still preparing everything when he heard the noise from the device. 

“Schatz?”

Shit... “Yeah..?”

“Were you connecting to the speaker?”

You quickly turned down the volume on your phone in case it accidentally played anything. “Uh no, why?”

“It just made an odd.. boodoop noise? I guess you could call it...? I’m not really sure.”

You smiled softly at the curiosity in his voice, even though he couldn’t see your face from the other room, “It just makes that noise sometimes when it’s charging, babe.”

He shrugged and continued prepping any veggies that he wanted to add to dinner.

You sighed in relief and quickly pulled up Youtube on your phone and found the video within typing the artist’s name in the search bar. You turned your volume back up and began playing the song. 

He jumped from the sudden song playing on the device, startled by the heavy beat it was erupting. 

“Uhh... Schatz...?” He asked as he heard voices and heavy bass coming from the speaker.

You walked into the kitchen on the beat of the song singing out loud, “It’s cuffing season and now we got a reason,

To get a big boy,

I need a big boy,

Gimme a big boy!~”

You slowly made your way towards him while pointing at him whenever you lip-synced “big boy.”

Meanwhile König froze and looked at you with wide eyes. You could begin to see red spread across his face as he started to get flustered. “(Y-y/n)... w-what’s happening...?”

You smirked and continued “singing” the song,

“It’s cuffing season and all the girls are leaving to get a big boy, I need a big boy, gimme a big boy.~”

You couldn’t really remember the rest of the lyrics but kept on dancing as you made your way to him on the other side of the kitchen. He was flustered and began stammering, “W-What’s all this about..?”

You pulled a cheshire cat grin and simply hugged him, resting your head on his torso with your arms around his slutty waist. “Just singin’ about one of my big boys is all,” you slowly slid your hands down to grab his ass, causing him to yelp and jump slightly in your arms. 

You could hear his heartbeat racing, it began pumping even faster when you two heard the front door open, signaling Simon was home. “Ohhh Siiii.~” You sang from the kitchen. 

He heard you call and walked into the kitchen, not really paying any mind to the music, until you pointed it out...

“It’s cuffing season and everyone is leaving to get a big boy, I need a big boy, give me a big boy.~”

Needless to say he was confused, “how and where did they find a song like this?” he thought to himself as you sauntered over to him, once again wrapping your hands around his waist and slowly moving them down. He glanced up at König for some sort of answer, but the gentle giant only shrugged, red still tinting his cheeks.

“Love, have you been drinking? Are you horny? If so, it’ll have to wait because we haven’t even had dinner yet.” He asked, pulling off his face mask from running to the store earlier. 

You sighed and smirked a little, pinching one of Simon’s cheeks, “No, it’s just a song that I heard on a show and it reminded me of you guys.”

He quickly snatched your hands off his ass, “Oi!”

He quickly picked you up and placed you on an empty part of the island countertop. He leaned over to your ear, “Love, you better watch it, or you’re just gonna have to watch us eat dessert tonight...”

#simon riley x reader #könig x reader x simon #konig x reader #könig x ghost x reader #cod x gn!reader #cod x reader #call of duty mwii

[starlight-library]

Opposites attract | MV1

pairing: max verstappen x technical theater!y/n (they/them)

summary: you visit max after a long tech weekend, which is in time for the miami gp

warnings: fluff, google translated dutch (so sorry), me geeking out about my profession, maybe accidental OOC??, suggestive

a/n: reader is AFAB gender neutral! request open! sorry in advance cause there's no proofreading, im dying like a man. also first time writing don’t kill me ❤️

wc: 1.3K

Tech was the best and worst time of the year. The best time since the actors, director, crew, and creative all come together to finally put the show together. The best time because the show is officially handed over to the stage manager. It was also the worst time because of such long hours, lots of hold, and the stage manager’s sanity is holding on by a thread.

The first day wasn’t so bad. You arrived at the theater at 8am. You found your table and laid everything out. Your ASM and PA, your life line and team members, made sure everything else was set up. The other technicians arrived at 9am as they stated on the schedule and finally actors arrived at 10am. You had everyone in a circle introducing themselves to the new group: name, pronouns, role, fun fact. Then the director stated you guys would be going from top of the show and this was your time and your rehearsal. It was long but quick.

The second and third day were killer though. It was painfully slow as techs were. You spend most of your day here. Stage managers were the first ones in and last ones out and this tech was a 10 out of 12 (breaks for lunch, obviously, but you spend literally 12 hours in a dark theater just stopping and going while they add lights, sound, props, costumes, etc.) What’s worse is because you’re running the show you have to stay on top of everything, unless an emergency of course.

That includes not being able to really talk to your boyfriend.

You and Max were very keen on communicating and checking in since both your jobs were so demanding. Sometimes you guys could talk for hours while others it was a simple ‘hi dear, hope you have a good day’ ‘hi schatje, hope you’re sleeping well’ but when you were in tech it was a miracle if you sent a good morning text to inform him you were alive.

It’s around one am when you arrive back to the housing provided by the theater. By the time you get ready for bed it’s one thirty. You’re exhausted and your body is so desperately craving the sleep it’s been lacking but you will yourself to check your phone.

10 am:

Good morning, schatje ❤️. I hope you have a good day at tech today.

12pm:

Make sure you eat something today, please. I know how busy things can get sometimes. I’ll send you money to eat. I cannot believe the theater isn’t providing food for you or the crew. I can call them and give them a piece of my mind.

3pm:

Why did tech have to land on this weekend? It’s different with you not here. Are you watching at least?

…you know I can pay for you. You don’t have to work if you don’t want.

5pm:

Practice was okay. The random rain shower made things interesting for sure. Not my best time but I managed.

I miss you.

10pm:

I love you Schatje. I’m going to head to bed. Wish you were here with me. ❤️

Your heart pulls reading the messages. You quickly type out a few replies to Max:

Hi darling, I’m okay Yes, I made sure I ate today. No you don’t have to call the theater. It’s fine.

That’s called a sugar baby, darling. Not that I wouldn’t mind… I miss you too. I wish tech was over already so we could talk more :(

Well that’s Florida for you. But I’m sorry. I bet you still did amazing. I love you too. I’ll talk to you soon love, sleep well ❤️

You put your phone down after and let yourself drift off to sleep.

—————————————

“Alright Jonathan, I’ll talk to you later…bye now.”

Pocketing your phone when the conversation ends, you shuffle around your room as you get dressed. You’re thankful practice and qualifiers are late in the day giving you the extra sleep you need. Checking yourself out in the mirror, you do a spin. Sneakers, skirt, and one of the many fan designed Red Bull shirts you bought. This one was based off of Taylor’s Swift ‘Eras Tour’ but instead had pictures of your boyfriend and said ‘Verstappen’ instead. Grabbing your sunglasses, bag, and paddock pass you triple checked everything before heading off on your adventure.

Arriving to the paddock you easily scan in and navigate your way through. You keep your head down eyes glued to your phone and nobody really bats an eye to you. Thank god. You didn’t want the surprise to be ruined. Your eyes scan before you find the Red Bull garage. You slow your steps as you scan the garage not spying your boyfriend. A frown pulls to your lips as you step in, sunglasses being pushed to rest on the top of your head as you find Christian.

“Christian,” you call out with a smile as the principal turns. You make your way over and give him a quick hug.

“Oh Y/N,” Christian says and you see relief wash over him, “thank god you’re here. Max has been a fucking terror so far.” The remark makes you laugh, “I’m serious! He’s been extra grumpy since we arrived. I had to threaten to ban you from the garage to get him to tone it down. Handle him. Please.”

“I will when I find out exactly where he is.”

“Driver’s room.”

“Thank you. Promise he’ll be ready for tomorrow.”

“He better!” You hear Christian call out as you leave the garage. It does not take you long to find Max’s room and you know on the door.

You hear some shuffling and swearing in Dutch before the door swings open. You’re met with a “what?” and a scowl which causes you to smile brightly. “Fancy seeing you here,” you tease and watch Max’s scowl fall as it takes him a moment to process before you’re yanked forward.

You crash into his chest and laughs. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you bury your face in the crook of his neck as he hugs you tightly. He pulls away as he cups your face.

“I—schatje! What are you here? I thought you were working all weekend?”

“Between rehearsal and tech, we reached 42 hours. Jonathan said it wasn’t worth calling equity up to try and get overtime. So, he gave us the weekend off,” you beam and burst into laughter as he smothers your face in kisses, smiling widely.

“I’ve heard you’ve been very grumpy these past few days,” you remark through giggles.

“I have,” he replies bluntly, “you’ve been so busy and this Grand Prix has been testing my patience,” it’s his turn to bury his face in the crook of your neck. Your eyes flutter close and you let a breathy sigh escape feeling his lips leave feathery kisses along your neck.

“Max..”

“Missed you,” Max mumbled through kisses as he works his way up your neck to your jaw, “missed my good luck charm on my arm,” he kisses along your jaw, “missed having you wait for me in my driver’s room,” he makes his way up to your bottom lip and nips, “we have so much catching up to do..”

Turning your head away, giggling, “you have practice and qualifiers to get through first, mister,” You say earning a very small pout from the Dutchman, “how about, you place top five for qualifiers and I’ll spend the night at your hotel.” You let a finger gently trail long his jaw, down his neck, and to his chest before he drops.

Max follows your finger eyes darkening as he sticks his tongue out slightly to lick his bottom lip. Looking back up at you, “and if I get pole?”

Smiling innocently, you bat your lashes, “why do you think I wore a skirt?” A voice rings out for Max. Max groans as he squeezes you. He leans down to kiss your cheek before murmuring in your ear, “I expect you back here after qualifiers, bent over, skirt up for me.”

A shiver runs down your spine. He smirks and you want to wipe that smirk off his face. The voice is closer and you quick Max a quick peck with a grin, “good luck, sweetheart.” You purr softly and turn out of his grasp and disappear to the motorhome to enjoy the last few hours of your ability to walk.

#starlight library presents; #mv1 imagine #mv1 x reader #mv1 fic #mv1 x theater partner #starlight library fiction #max x technical theater partner #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 reader #f1 fanfic #max verstappen smut #mv1 smut

[seeingivy]

the softest kind of love

actor!eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting series

content: this is what we call fluff no plot. eren kissing reader every five seconds, me in my easter eggs era. eren and y/n enjoy your last days of your love struck bubble before I ruin your life.

an: you guys had me feeling like the devil incarnate after last chapter. anyways, I put that evilness away for 5k ish words before I unleash my true form again. enjoy <3

song of the chapter: invisible string!!!

previous part linked here

--

The second Historia walks into the room, Eren pops out of his seat, nearly running to the door to poke his head out. The hallway is empty - except for the crew members setting up the new costumes and fittings for filming next week. 

No sign of you. 

“You know, you could at least pretend you’re excited to see me.” Historia says, pinching Eren’s arm. 

Eren gives Historia a swift hug and a kiss to the cheek before pulling back, his hands resting on her shoulders. 

“You okay? How was the reception to the entire thing?” 

“Good. More people are coming out. Backing me up.” 

“I’m glad, Hisu. It’s nothing short of what you deserve.” 

“Tell Y/N thank you, I couldn’t do it without her. Your girl has been bigger than life these days.” 

He smiles, squeezing her shoulders once. 

“You know. If you told me where she was, I could do it right now. Shouldn’t she be coming for the table read anyway?” 

“She isn’t feeling well. She stayed out in the cold to talk to all of the fans that were lined up and then she was stuck in the airport for so long that she didn’t sleep. Levi and Hange gave her the day off to rest.” 

Eren immediately runs over to his seat, directly across from Levi and Hange and gives his best smile. 

“No, Eren. You can’t have the day off to hang out with Y/N.” 

“I’m not going to hang out with her, Levi. Just let me take care of her, she spent two days in the airport after performing and interacting with people all weekend with Historia.” 

“Eren. She’ll be fine. She just has to sleep it off.” responds Hange, the two of them scribbling through each other’s scripts. 

“I’m not even in these scenes. And you owe me, Levi.” Eren says, narrowing his eyes. 

Levi narrows his eyes, flitting his line of vision to the name card next to his seat, and then back to Eren. How was Levi supposed to know that Eren was all but estranged from his half brother? 

“If I do this one thing for you, you can’t hold it over my head again.” Levi says, glaring at Eren. 

“Thank you!” 

Eren leans over the table to give them both a hug before running straight out of the room to the townhouse. Levi brings his hand up to his cheek as he grumbles under his breath. 

“Is it just me or is he more touchy lately?” 

“Poor, Y/N. He’s probably strangling her to death up there.” Hange responds, laughing. 

--

After speed running through making a bowl of ramen, Eren all but runs up to your room, to find you nestled in your sheets, with a pink nose. You have your lines propped up against your sheets, your face embedded in the pages of your script. 

Eren sets down the bowl and snatches your script before he leans down and presses the sweetest kiss known to man to your lips. He can feel you smiling against him, your cold hands coming up to cup his face. 

“Eren. I’m kind of sick you shouldn’t-” 

He rolls his eyes as he presses his lips to your palms, leaving two soft kisses on where you’re still cupping his face, before he climbs into the sheets with you.  

“Tease. I’ve been waiting for a month now.” 

“I’m going to get you sick. And then you’ll have to take a day off like I am.” 

“I’m already taking the day off today. For you. So just try really hard to not get me sick okay?” 

Eren reaches over to your nightstand, where the bowl of ramen is still steaming, and hands it to you. You give him a grateful smile - and Eren’s heart skips a beat - before cupping your hands around the bowl, the steam making your glasses fog up. 

“How was it? The entire thing?” Eren whispers, his breath tickling your forehead. 

“Good, Eren. They-they really believed Hisu.”

Historia had decided that she wasn’t going to be quiet about what happened with her agent. In fact, she was going to be loud about it.

And she asked for your help, because she wanted to use music to do so. Eren was immediately disapproving, not because he didn’t want Historia to do it, but because he didn’t want you to help her. It’s not that he didn’t believe in you, that he didn’t think the work was important. But what you guys were doing was the equivalent of putting a target on your back and there’s only so much he can protect you from. 

You told him you had to do it, that you had to help her and he dropped all his protests and helped you both. The three of you wrote The Man in six hours and then you and Historia immediately went and performed it in New York. 

Eren brings his hand up to cup your cheek, his fingers soft against your skin. 

“You-you know it doesn’t usually go this way right? I-I don’t want you to-” 

“Get my hopes up. I know, Eren. That’s why I’m glad it did work out for her of all people. She-she deserves her spot at the table and roles because she’s a good actress and she-

“I’m not trying to bring you down, Y/N. I-I just want you to be careful. Did you see what happened with Sukuna and Hyla? She’s basically dragging his good name through the mud. I was worried that if it didn’t go over well, they’d start coming for you. And they can be ruthless. And mean. And throw bricks through your bedroom windows and-” 

You bring your hand up to Eren’s cheek, his eyes fluttering closed as he sinks into your touch. 

“Is it weird having Zeke here, Eren? Does it remind you of-” 

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess.  Seeing him pisses me off. I like being here because it feels like home. We do other roles and movies but this is always where we come back to. It feels weird to have him intruding in on something like that, you know?” 

“This is still our place, Eren. Him being here doesn’t change that.” you whisper. 

You rest your head against Eren’s chest, his heart rapidly beating under your ear, as he brings his hands up to your hair. He’s messily braiding through the ends the way you taught him, his hands swiping through your tangled locks.

“We should come up with secret codes. We-we still haven’t told them all we’re dating and I-I’m not embarrassed but we should when it’s-” 

“When it’s right, Eren. Maybe when we’re done filming this season, because knowing us I feel like people will catch on the second we start doing press.” 

Eren nods, squeezing your shoulder once.  

“That one. It means I’m here and I’ve got you.” 

You take your elbow and jab it straight into his side, making Eren squirm. 

“Ouch, Y/N.” 

“That one means that we need a second. To talk to each other, without anyone else around.” 

Eren shifts over to your side, reaching forward to secure the loose strands of your hair around your ear. 

“And that one. It means I want to kiss you right now but I can’t.” 

“God, Eren. We won’t even last a week without them finding out.” 

--

You and Eren amble down six hours later to find all of them milling around in the kitchen and Armin standing there, camera in hand. His polaroids are well littered and taped to almost every wall now, barely an empty patch on the wallpaper. 

You make your way over as Eren stops to talk to Armin, Jean and Miksasa giving you quick arm hugs and kisses on the cheek as you run your hand on the wall. You and Eren are smack dab in the middle - the pictures from season one and two at the forefront. Eren comes up at your side, tucking your hair behind your ear. 

“Already?” you whisper. 

“Can’t help it.” Eren whispers, giving you a smile. 

Armin comes up behind you, slinging his arm around your shoulder and standing in between you two as you rest your head against his. 

“Hey ‘Min. I just got to the end of the script, you’ve got some really big scenes this season. I thought we were going to have to put you on the death wall there for a second.” 

“I’ve got a feeling that I’m going to be the victim of Levi’s insane standards this season instead of Eren.” Armin grumbles. 

“Thank god. He’s ruthless.” Eren says, as he gives the both of you a pat on the shoulder before walking away. 

“I heard that, brat.” Levi says, walking into the kitchen with Hange and Erwin in tow. 

Armin gives Levi a sheepish smile as he walks away, finishing his season pictures. Levi beelines to your side, placing his hand flat against your forehead to check your temperature. You swat his hand off as you give him a smile, the two of you leaning against the wall to watch everyone. 

Bertholdt and Sasha are fighting over a very lazily played game of Scrabble while Eren and Hange play a very intense game of ninja around Reiner and Mikasa’s cookie frosting. 

“So are you guys dating?” Levi asks. 

“Are you going to give me some unsolicited dad advice if I say yes?” 

“Obviously. That’s part of my job description.” 

You look over at him and give him a sheepish nod, confirming his suspicions. You don’t miss the way his face breaks out into a smile, which has your cheeks burning with the mushiest, sweet feeling you’ve ever felt. 

Levi may not actually be your dad, but his approval means the world to you all the same.

“Good.” he says, looking over at the two of them - aggressively arguing over who won their game of Ninja. 

“That’s it? Good?” 

“I’ll save my unsolicited dad advice for Eren. Give him that whole ‘hurt my girl and I’ll kill you spiel’” he says. 

“Spoken like a true father, Levi.” 

Levi squeezes your shoulder once before tucking you into his arm, his embrace warm. He clears his throat as he talks and you swear his eyes are watering. 

“Hange and I are doing a vow renewal at the end of this season. We haven’t told anyone yet because we’re just going to do a small thing in the backyard on the last day. But if you and Eren could write a song for us to do the first dance to, I’d really love it if you-” 

“Shut the fuck up. You want us to write a song?” 

“Language. It’s a surprise for Hange, they’re really into that whole music, serenading thing.” 

“Really, Levi? You’d let us do something that important?” 

“Eren is Hange’s favorite. You’re mine. And I’ll kill you if you tell anyone I admitted that out loud.” 

You can feel the tears welling in your own eyes as you look over at Eren and Hange laughing near the sink and Levi smiling at you, every little part of your heart touched by the sentiment. 

“Permission to say something cheesy?” 

“No, Y/N.” 

“I love you, Levi.” 

He rolls his eyes, a deep sigh leaving his chest, before he responds. 

“Yeah, yeah. Love you too, kid.” 

Eren and Levi switch places, Armin pushing the two of you closer together to take the last season start polaroid. 

“Okay, guys. What’s the pose this year?” 

You and Eren give each other a look, before pulling up your sleeves at the same time. Armin gives you two a shocked smile as you stand to the side, pointing at each other's matching tattoos for the picture. 

The second Connie catches sight of it, he immediately runs over with his camera, the bright light flashing in your face. 

“This is part like ONE HUNDRED of the L/N-Jaegers. I-they have matching fucking tattoos oh my fucking god.” 

--

You shuffle through the mess of letters Levi gave you - the ones he wrote Hange when they worked on La La Land together - to piece together the lyrics for your song. You and Eren agreed that it should definitely be a soft piano ballad, which is more their speed for this backyard vow renewal they’re having. 

The letters are enough to bring tears to your eyes alone - the line between Levi faking letters for their method acting to really falling in love with Hange crystal clear. Because he went from writing her fake prose, soft flowery poetry to sharing memories with them, about himself. 

Which is saying a lot, because Levi’s like a book glued shut. 

Pictures of him from when he was younger, in Centennial Park with his parents. Him working a stupid job at a yogurt shop in between roles in Los Angeles. Him trying Hange’s favorite restaurant and sending her a very scathing review back. 

That’s what love is, isn’t it? Sharing every little part of yourself and every feeling you’ve had - ecstatic, overwhelmed, happy, sad, bored, and soft. 

You start scribbling the broken fragments of lyrics swimming in your mind into the notebook, your hand not moving fast enough for the places your head is running. 

“Time, mystical time, cutting me open than healing me fine? You’ve got a weird mind, kid.” 

You look up to find Zeke peering over your shoulder, before settling into the seat at the table right across from you. You immediately drop your pencil right into the book, instinctively looking to the left. 

Right. Eren already left for set. 

“Ah. They’re song lyrics.” 

“That’s right. You’re the singer.” 

There’s a tone in his voice, one you can’t place that sends a wave of discomfort down your spine. 

You’re trying your best. To give Zeke a clean slate, to not let what Eren said taint the view you had of him because you should form your own opinions. But god does he give you the shivers, his entire aura ice cold - the complete opposite of the warm, fireplace Eren reminds you of. 

“I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you.” 

“Zeke. I’m Eren’s brother.” 

“He mentioned. Welcome to the cast, I hope you’re liking it so far.” 

He gives you a smile as he readjusts in the seat, sinking down into the chair. 

“So what did he tell you? You’re looking at me like I’m the figment of your worst nightmares.” 

“He didn’t say anything to me. You-you just caught me off guard because I was in the zone and stuff.”��

“I haven’t talked to my brother in a while. But I still know him. What did he tell you?” 

You swallow hard as you start gathering Levi’s letters, tucking them back neatly into their corresponding envelopes. 

“Just that you guys don’t talk. Aren’t very close. It just came up once, he-he’s met my brothers before and just said you guys aren’t like that.” 

“And you hate me for it?” 

“No. No, I don’t hate you.” 

“But he does?” 

“Eren doesn’t hate you, Zeke. You just hurt his feelings, that’s all.” you respond, whispering the secrets he told you in confidence into the air.

Zeke sits back in his chair, his legs spread across the length of the seat as he gives you a smile. 

You can already feel your heart sinking, irritated at yourself for even giving Zeke a sliver of information Eren wouldn’t have wanted you to mention. 

“You love Eren, don’t you?” 

“No, I don’t. I was just saying that because-” 

“Would you believe me if I told you I had to stop talking to him? For his sake?” 

“No. Who does that? He’s your brother. I can’t even imagine going a day without talking to my little brother, he’s literally my entire world.” 

“Would you do it if it meant protecting him?” 

He gives you a look as you ponder the question, the dilemma he just presented you with. Would you stop talking to Falco if it meant protecting him? 

“Of course, I would. I love my brother. I-I’d do anything for him.” 

“And I would too.” Zeke responds, giving you one last smile before walking out of the kitchen. He passes Eren on the way in, the two of them giving each other an ice cold look before Eren takes the seat next to yours. Eren pesters you about the conversation and you tell him all except for the last part. 

You’re not sure if that’s something Eren should know. It would probably just piss him off more. 

--

You watch as the makeup team takes Eren up to the top of the set, the crystal caves they made for the scene glittering in the light. You run your hand against the painted material, each sparkly crevice nearly blinding your eyes. 

“They really went overboard with this one.” you murmur, walking with Mikasa. 

“They got a bigger budget after last award season. I think they spent it all on this entire scene.” 

You both snicker as you run to the sidelines, joining Sasha on the sides. You all sit in your respective seats as Eren, Historia, and Rod take their spots. Levi gives Eren a thumbs up from the directors chair and Eren quickly slips his shirt off, readjusting his hands into the arm restraints. 

“Eren! Share the workout routine! I’ll lick those abs.” screams Connie, earning a fair amount of laughs from the cast and the crew. 

You can see Eren turning red at the comment, the crew adjusting the last of the microphones and the props onto the set as Levi starts rolling the cameras. Connie leans over, whispering in your ear. 

“How does it feel to see someone else living your dream?” he says, a laugh falling out of his mouth. 

“What the hell are you talking about, Con’?” 

“Historia and Eren are about to be the new couple of the show. I can see the edits already.” he says, poking your sides. 

You swat him off, giving him the finger as you focus back on the scene as Eren and Historia start acting in the scene. Your reaction only goads Connie and Reiner on more, the two of them just trying to piss you off now. 

“Look at how they look at each other, Y/N. You wish that was you, huh?” 

“Shut up, Reiner. We’re literally the main couple of the show. You’d be stupid if you shipped Historia and Eren after the Thank You scene.” 

“Feeling territorial over your man, Y/N?” Bertholdt says, the group of them laughing. 

“Bertholdt. I thought you were above stupid shit like this.”   

“You make it too easy. You’re-you’re looking a little green.” Bertholdt responds, pressing his hands to your face. 

“And you’re looking gray. Like a half dead loser who gets eaten by Armin of all people at the end of the season.” 

They all laugh at your response as you feel your cheeks burn with irritation, the thought of the entire thing pissing you off. You look up at Eren and Historia, the two of them sitting on the ledge as Eren gets caked in the red makeup for the scene before they start filming again. They’re both smiling, looking down at you guys. 

When you make eye contact with Eren, he gives you a wave which you halfheartedly return. Which only fills Connie and Reiner with more delight, because now they’re mimicking you, all of them laughing with tears in their eyes. 

“Imagine losing a two season lead to Historia.” Connie says, poking you in the sides.

“Imagine being one of the only characters without a romantic interest. At least my character can get some.” you respond. 

“You think they’re method acting? Looks pretty real to me, don’t you think, Y/N?” Reiner says. 

You stomp off to the other side of the set, to the snack table, where you’re angrily chewing down one of the pastries when Hange walks over. You can still hear them joking over there, tears flowing out of Connie’s eyes. 

“You frown any harder and you’re going to get wrinkles, kiddo.” Hange says, poking the soft of your cheek. 

“Sorry.” you respond, your tone harsh. 

They give you a laugh as the crew starts pulling Eren and Historia down from the ledge. Historia and Eren are wiping the makeup off each other’s faces as they laugh, chasing each other off the main set as they join the rest of them on the sidelines. 

You turn to the side, angrily biting into another pastry on the snack table as you hear them giggling behind you. 

“Where’s Y/N?” you hear Eren ask, as he slips his jacket back on. 

“She’s moaning and groaning by the snack table.” Jean says, smacking Connie on the back. 

“You guys are being mean. You’re obviously hurting her feelings by insinuating there’s something between Eren and Historia.” Mikasa says, shaking her head disapprovingly at them. 

“What?” Eren responds. 

“We were just joking with her and she got all mad for no reason. You and Historia just looked really romantic up there for a second and we were teasing her about it, saying you’re going to forget all about her.” Connie explains. 

You can feel your cheeks burning, the entire situation mortifying as you feel your face turn red. Because them saying it is one thing but telling Eren is another. The crew starts working on getting your harnesses attached for the next scene as Eren walks over, politely asking them if he can have a second with you. 

“Hi Y/N.” 

“Hi Eren.” you grumble, crossing your hands across your chest. 

He gives you a smile as he snakes his left hand around your waist and uses his right hand to cup your face and kiss you straight on the face. He’s pulling you closer with his hand, your cheeks burning at the sounds of them all cheering and screaming a few feet away from you. He lets go after a few seconds, his forehead resting against yours. 

“What happened to telling them at the end of the season?” you whisper, a smile making its way across your lips. 

“They were pissing you off. Had to set the record straight.” he responds, pressing a kiss to both of your cheeks before pulling back.  

Sasha and Mikasa run over, crushing the two of you in a hug as they all excitedly squish you in their embrace, hundreds of questions falling out of their mouths. 

How long have you been dating? Are you in love? Have you done it?

“Connie. You’re disgusting, you know that?” Armin says, snapping a picture of everyone crushing you in a hug. 

“Guilty as charged.” Connie says, smirking. 

“Connie. Bother her again and I’ll make it a point to do it in your bed.” Eren says, cupping your face in his hands as everyone laughs. 

--

Eren joins you at the piano, two steaming cups of tea in his hand. He sets them both at the head of the piano before pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

“Hey.” 

“Hi. I-I think it might be done.” 

“We’re sticking with invisible string?” 

“Seems right, don’t you think?” 

Eren leans forward to press a kiss to your cheek again before settling his hands on the keys as he starts playing the tune, your voice filling the empty air of the set. 

Time, curious time Gave me no compasses, gave me no time  Were there clues I didn’t see?

You give Eren a nod to join you on the melody as you play the notes on your side of the piano, your cheeks hurting from smiling. 

And isn’t it just so pretty to think  All along there was some invisible string  Tying you to me?

Eren stops playing the keys as he leans his head against your shoulder, pressing a kiss to your shoulder before talking. 

“Maybe we shouldn’t sing right now. Your voice is sounding tired, love.” 

“We just did so many takes of that scene yesterday with Armin and Erwin. And then we all spent a good twenty minutes crying after we realized it was Erwin’s last scene, so I’m all spent out.” 

Eren plays a loose melody on the piano as you press a kiss to the top of his head. 

“Where’d you come up with invisible string?” 

“It’s one of those old folktales, Eren. About soulmates.” 

He gives you a confused look as he keeps playing, the piano singing in the air. 

“Basically, when you’re born, there’s a little string tied around your pinkie and one around your soulmates. And no matter how far you are, you’ll eventually find the other end of your string and your other person because you’re tied together.” 

“Do you ever think about stuff like that? About soulmates and other lives and stuff?” 

“Sometimes, it can be fun. Like what we’re doing in another life, how we ended up together.” 

“You think we’re together in other lives, Y/N?” 

“You don’t, Eren?” 

You give him a fake angry look which has him back pedaling really fast, the words spilling out of his mouth. 

“I-no. Of course, we’re together. We’re meant to be together, every universe and every time-” 

“I’m teasing, Eren. You don't have to think that just because I do.” you respond, smacking your fist against the piano and sending a shred of discordant notes in the air. 

“Ouch, princess. You’re no musician.” 

“Oh?” 

He laughs, taking your closed fist off of the keys and lifting your hand to his mouth to press a kiss to your knuckles. 

“We have hundreds of love stories out there, Y/N.” 

“Oh yeah? Like what?” 

“All the classics, of course.” 

“Like? I need concrete examples, Eren.” 

“There’s one where we fake-date and fall in love. And then there’s one where you somehow end up being my roommate and-” 

“Roommates? That’s so fucking corny, Eren.” 

“Roommates. Like you somehow end up having to live with me against your will and then obviously start liking me because I’m so charming.” 

“Ew, Eren. You would hate being my roommate. I’d probably piss you off by singing in the shower every morning.” 

“See that’s the thing. I’d hate it at first but then it becomes super endearing to me. It’s part of the romance, falling in love with the little things.” 

“Okay, Cupid. I didn’t realize you were an expert here.” 

“Let’s go home, yeah? We need to wake up early for the vow renewal tomorrow.” 

Eren starts packing your notebook into the bag and handing you your cup of tea as you slide around on the bench. He walks down the length of his set before realizing you’re not next to him and trails back, bending down to sit in between your legs.

“Hey. What’s up?” 

You put your hand against his cheek as you look at his green eyes, round and full, staring into yours. It’s on the tip of your tongue. You love him. And you miss him when he’s not even gone. 

“Nothing, Eren. I just thought about how after this week, we won’t be coming back here for another three years. When am I gonna see you?”

Eren jumps off the ground and takes his seat on the bench again, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. He presses a kiss to the top of your head before murmuring against your hair, his voice soft. 

“I’ll come where you are. You can come where I am. We-we’ll see each other, okay?”

“Okay, Eren. You’re right. I-I’m just being silly.” 

He leans forward to drag you up on your feet and the two of you stroll your way back to the townhouse together in the dark. And the confession still burns on the tip of your tongue. 

--

You and Eren stay seated on the piano bench, well after you guys finish singing your song for Hange and Levi, to watch everyone from your perfect vantage point on the front of the dance floor. 

Levi and Hange are still swaying in the middle, the two of them laughing into each other’s faces as Hange steps on Levi’s feet for the sixth time. Sasha and Reiner are doing some very serious tango dancing, and destroying anyone who makes it into their pathway, and Jean and Mikasa brushing noses as they softly smile into each other’s faces. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been as happy as I am right now, Eren.” you say, looking over at his green eyes. 

He’s all dressed up, in a nice black suit and his hair nicely styled against his forehead. He’s wearing a pink tie, intended to match the pale pink long dress you borrowed from Mikasa. 

“Why’s that?” 

“I don’t know. There’s so much love in the room.” 

“Connie getting seconds for the tenth time is love?” 

You laugh as you lean your head on his shoulder, laughing into the fabric. 

“No. But look. He has an extra plate that he’s piling onto for Sasha. Her feet have been hurting all night and instead of making her get up with him, he’s doing it for her. That’s love, Eren.” 

“You always notice things I don’t, sweet girl. Tell me more.” 

You smile as you place your chin up on his shoulder, pointing out each little thing in the room. 

“Mikasa and Jean have been in the back corner all night. And when we were singing, Jean pressed the softest kiss to Mikasa’s cheek and her face turned all pink, even after all this time.” 

Eren places his hand around the small of your back, rubbing small circles into your back as you go on.

“Armin is the most competitive Monopoly player known to man. Marco’s been sliding all his extra money to Reiner so he can stay in the game.” 

“Erwin took a picture of Levi and Hange during their first dance from the back side, because he knows Levi wants the view of the picture to be Hange and not him.” 

“And Levi and Hange, they’ve been swinging in the middle of the dance floor since we stopped singing and the orchestra started playing. Which was like forty-five minutes ago. They-they’ve been talking this entire time, never running out of things to say to each other, with the biggest smiles on their faces.” 

Eren looks over at you, the soft, sweet look in your eyes as you look at everyone in the room and it makes his heart melt. 

“Levi and Hange are really in love, aren’t they?” Eren asks, drawing his eyes that give away too much from you. 

“The softest kind of love. I-I’ve never seen two people so in sync before. I feel like every time I look at Levi when he’s with Hange, he looks like he’s never been more at peace.” 

And Eren can see it - the way Levi’s shoulders are relaxed, the smile on his usually blank face, and the wrinkles near his eyes. 

And when he looks over, all he can see is it on your face too. The marks of love. Full, pink cheeks - which he’s sure is from the makeup Mikasa helped you with. The softest, most excited smile on your face as you scan the room, only pointing out more and more of the tiny little signs of love he’d never even see on his own. 

“I love you.” 

You look over at Eren, his green eyes gentle and heartfelt as he takes your hand and squeezes three times. 

“Eren, you-” 

“I love you. The three squeezes - that’s what they’ve always meant.” he whispers, his hand warm in yours as me mimics the motion you’ve done a hundred times. 

You can feel the tears stinging in your eyes as you bring your hand up to his cheek, memorizing the way he looks, bathed in the golden lights strung from the ceiling to the end of the backyard. 

“There’s love in the room. And it’s right here between you and me.” you whisper, before Eren closes the space between you and leaves the warmest, softest kiss against your lip - so deep you can feel it tingling all over your skin. 

The softest kind of love.

--

next part linked here

taglist:

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#seeingivywrites! #method acting #eren x you #eren x reader #eren x y/n #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger x y/n #eren jaeger x you #actor eren #actor eren x you #actor eren x reader #actor eren x y/n #aot #aot x you #aot x reader #aot x y/n #snk #snk x you #snk x reader #snk x y/n #aot actor au #aot fluff #eren fluff #eren jaeger fluff #eren yeager #eren yeager x y/n #eren yeager fluff #eren yeager x reader #eren yaeger imagine #eren yaeger headcanons

[august126]

⁎˚ ﹒ ✿﹒ ⁎˚  ⁎˚ ﹒⁎˚ ﹒ ✿﹒ ⁎˚  ⁎˚ ﹒⁎˚ ﹒ ✿﹒ ⁎˚  ⁎˚ ﹒⁎˚ ﹒ ✿﹒ ⁎˚  ⁎˚ ﹒⁎˚ 

*ੈ✩ summary:when you tease Jack just a little bit too much before the Scream VI movie premiere, making it difficult for him to stay grounded in the theater, especially with your lingering hands.

*ੈ✩ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 :Jack Champion x reader

*ੈ✩ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬:Established Relationship,Making Out,Public Sex,Grinding, and Overstimulation

⁎˚ ﹒ ✿﹒ ⁎˚  ⁎˚ ﹒⁎˚ ﹒ ✿﹒ ⁎˚  ⁎˚ ﹒⁎˚ ﹒ ✿﹒ ⁎˚  ⁎˚ ﹒⁎˚ ﹒ ✿﹒ ⁎˚  ⁎˚ ﹒⁎˚ ﹒

It had been the Scream VI movie screening, the room packed with casting crew and lucky chosen fans littered throughout the Los Angeles movie theater, the movie you had starred in alongside your boyfriend Jack. 

Having the privilege to cram in the front once the lights had dimmed, the very touchy and needy Jack could keep his hands off of you, your armrest folded up so his arm could drape comfortably over your shoulder and hold you close. 

"Try not to get too handsy in front of our coworkers, honey." You whisper into his ear, watching him squirm in his seat in your peripheral vision.

He was a great actor, amazing even for being able to cover up the massive fact that he was close to breaking a sweat in his tight black and red suit from how worked up he was from having to interrupt the very heated makeout season you had teased him with the minute you had to leave.

It had been like modern day torture having to stride through a crowd of fans and familiar faces, taking pictures, and signing autographs at the entrance as if he wasn’t sporting a massive boner. 

Jack prayed to whoever was watching above that he wouldn't see his name trending on Twitter with the discourse of his massive bulge being the main topic for the night. "I know, I know," he shuddered, curling closer into your side.

There was no point in paying attention to the trailers that lit up the massive screen when a much more entertaining performance was being shown right beside you.

You caught Jack nervously covering his erection with the large bucket of popcorn he had bought to cover up the fact that he was trying to relieve some of his tension with the pick up of his breathing and his lashes fluttering, his eyes struggling to focus on what was being shown on screen.

"Are you doing okay over there?" You asked, watching as his eyebrows frowned and his lips pressed together. Once his alluring, blown dark pupils met yours, the environment around you two had shifted into something dangerous.

He didn't even have to answer you, already telling you from the clear of his throat and his slight panting that the bucket of popcorn was his greatest enemy, pressing almost too perfectly against his dick. 

"I’m fine." was all that he could manage through his fake gummy smile that had fallen quite quickly after his words had departed, seeking out outside comfort with his other hand moving to the plush of your thigh and giving you a knowing squeeze. 

"You sure?" You were teasing him again, smirking at the bob of his Adam's apple as your breath fanned against the sole of his ear.

Speaking in a lower tone than necessary, it was clear what side of the battle you were on, and it certainly was not his.

Unleashing your most hard hitting attack with the slight grope of your hand on his thigh, replacing the weight from the popcorn with your own fingers, to any curious lurking eyes, it would have looked like you had been resting in the bucket. 

It was all a front that allowed your fingers to go under the front buttons of his pants. Jack let out a long exhale through his nose with his neck slumped back at the small moment of mercy.

The hiss from your palm grabbing him straightforward by the hilt was covered up by a fake slight cough, his hand covering his mouth now to cover the small noises that threatened to slip from his lips as your touch did nothing but make him tenser as his muscles clenched over this suddenly entrapped feeling fabric of his fancy clothes. 

You weren't as helpful as he’d thought you would be, the sloppy work of your wrist stroking him and loose hold around his length had him taking matters into his own hands.

Jack reached down and wrapped his hand over yours, guiding your continued strokes up and down to hold him just tight enough to make him work up enough to start pathetically trembling around your fingertips.

The fiction was starting to become deadly, and the much needed handjob seemed to be making him more worked up, knowing what a risky place he had chosen to have his dick out. Only the popcorn bucket in his lap rustling covered the lewd, slick sound of your hands picking up pace.

His breathing became more labored, and his body heat was starting to turn him into a personal heater as he struggled to muffle his reactions with every grace of his sensitive veins that you would purposely make pulse with a gentle brush or squeeze, sending shivering white sparks of pleasure to surge through his worked nerves. 

You heard Jack release with a shaking, trembling breath, his panting slowly subsiding as the warmth of his mess coated your hand, and you had not let go of your pace, drawing a genuine, sensitive gasping reaction from him as you continued to push him over the peak he had already dropped from.

"One more for good luck?" You smirked, finding your own enjoyment in watching your boyfriend struggle to keep his score, knowing that he would have to struggle for the rest of the entire movie with you teasing him.

#jack champion x reader #jack champion #jack champion x y/n #jack champion smut #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry #Scream #scream 6 smut #ethan landry x y/n

[voguescapes]

h. styles | vanity fair

pairings. harry styles x famous!reader

about. harry and (y/n) are guest on 'vanity fair' to do a lie detector test together, revealing multiple secrets from the pair.

warnings. not edited so disregard any errors, jealous harry cause why not, not my gif, kind of bad writing, a little cursing here and there. lmk if i missed something!

note. hiii everyone! i don’t know if i’m beck yet but i’m just going be leaving a quick fic because it’s been a little over three months which is outrageous!

She rolled her eyes and shook her head sarcastically. "You're supposed to save the best for last, you should go first." Harry placed his hand over her and kissed the side of her head. "My girlfriend, everyone."

"Are you ready? I came up with some pretty interesting questions these past few days that I've been dying to ask you." She grinned.

“I was born ready. Plus," The singer smirked, looking at his girlfriend with sparkling eyes, "I get to ask you some questions after, so be careful with what you ask, babe, because it might come back to bite your ass." He winked and her face flushed a bright red.

Harry turned back towards the camera and clapped, "Let's get started!" A crew member laughed and instructed (Y/N) to move to sit at the other side of the table so they could attach Harry to the machine.

"Arms up." The man demanded sternly. Harry observed her blank, emotionless face and then turned to his girlfriend with furrowed eyebrows. She shrugged and wiggled her eyebrows at him causing him to break the silence and lightly chuckle. The man silently sent them glares, which they both ignored and continued making silly faces and giggled as quietly as they could.

"We're ready." A crew member called out from behind the camera breaking (Y/N) out of her daze and she looked at the man controlling the polygraph machine to ask a few questions.

"Alright, I'm going to ask you a few short, straightforward questions to calibrate the machine." Harry exhaled loudly and wiggled his fingers before nodding, gesturing for the man to proceed.

"Is your name Harry Styles?"

Harry nodded making the woman command him to answer verbally. His girlfriend snorted and stifled a laugh while he mustered out apologies.

"Yes."

"Are you 28 years old?"

"Yes."

"Finally, are you nervous?" He looked up with squinted eyes, something he did frequently whenever he was thinking about something.

"Uh, knowing (Y/N/N), kind of." He chuckled breathily. The woman nodded and laughed along while the polygraph operator gave her a thumbs up to begin.

"Okay, Hazza, first question! Have you ever fallen in love?" The man visibly laughed at how simple her first question was. "Of course. With you." She smiled at his kind words, practically feeling her heart melting. She looked at the polygraph examiner, seeing him throw up a quick thumbs up.

"You're too cheesy sometimes. You guys,"

(Y/N) spoke towards the lens, "pray for me. I have to deal with him every. single. day."

"Hey!" Harry exclaimed, lifting his hands in the air with an offended expression etched on his face. She turned to the camera and rolled her eyes in a jokingly manner before moving on to the next question.

"We watch Marvel movies quite often together. I work for Marvel, am I your favourite marvel actor?"

"Bubs, you're an actress." Harry spoke. (Y/N) shook your head and he tilted his as he awaited her response. "Haz, knowing you, I’m surprised that you of all people would say that! Anyways, women should be considered as actors too and not just actresses. After all, male and female doctors are both called doctors, not doctors and doctresses." She stated in a practical manner.

His voice changed pitch as he tried to imitate her. "Fine." He replied dramatically, pretending to flip his hair back with his hand.

"So, out of all the Marvel actors, am I your favorite?" She smirked and fixed her gaze on his middle and index finger, already tapping nervously on the metal table.

"Yes."

She touched her heart dramatically.

"That's a lie." The man behind the machine called out. (Y/N) dropped her hand and her smile fell. "Harold!"

"Okay, it's RDJ. I'm sorry, love." Harry cringed, shocked that the machine picked up on his lie so quickly. She narrowed her eyes and looked back down at her phone. "That's fair. He's everyone's favourite." She mumbled grumpily.

"Does Gemma actually like me?" Harry confidently nodded his head. "Absolutely. She adores you." He responded sweetly. She turned her head to the operator. He nodded towards her, "That's true."

She swiped her hand across her forehead, wiping imaginary sweat. "Good to know."

"Would you consider yourself to be an overly affectionate boyfriend?" She questioned. It was a question she thought of frequently. Harry loved to cuddle, hug, kiss, hold hands, and essentially shower her with love whenever he had the chance, but she wanted to know if he knew of his actions or if he would just do it subconsciously.

"Um, no. I think I'm just about the right amount of affectionate." And it was true, he actually thought that he wasn’t overly affectionate. She choked back a laugh and covered her face with her hand, quickly looking back down to her phone in hopes of finding a different question to quickly move on to.

"Hey, hey, wait! I saw that! You think I'm overly affectionate?" He inquired, his voice going at least 3 octaves higher. "I'm the one asking questions here, Hazza." She winked and scrolled for a question in her notes app.

"Do you think our children would be cute?" She questioned as a sweet smile prominently appeared on her face. She decided against asking if he wanted kids because he had already confessed he did a few months back. It was the purest, most heartwarming conversation she had ever had.

Harry looked at her as if it were crazy of her to ask that. To him, the answer was obvious. "Absolutely. I mean," he pointed in between the two of them, "look at us." He replied cockily. She eyed him, but eventually shrugged, realising that even though he sounded like such a dickhead in the moment, he wasn't wrong.

"Next. Does size matter?" She giggled, watching her boyfriends face contort.

"You're asking me that? What I think? Or what I think you think?" He questioned, waggling his eyebrows.

"Answer however you'd like." The corners of her lips lifted and her face contorted into a mischievous grin. Harry pondered for a while, furrowing his eyebrows as he searched his brain for a good response. "No, I don't think it does." He answered. “That’s true.”

"Okay! Next, Do you think if we met on The Ellen Show, we would have never gotten together?" She inquired. This was a question that she would often ask herself, however, she never had the courage to actually ask him in fear of some form of rejection, so she’d only ponder it while Harry was sleeping soundly beside you.

"Yeah. I think I would've seen you on instagram and slid in your DM’s or something." He admitted. The examiner nodded.

"Moving on. Have you ever lied to me?" She inquired. Harry pursed his lips and sighed. "Yes." He answered honestly.

"Elaborate, please." (Y/N) said, looking at him expectantly. "I’ve know you for over three years now, I’ve lied to you thousands of time." She nodded and moved onto the next question.

"Would you consider yourself to be a heartthrob?" She asked. She was aware of the huge fanbase he had developed since One Direction, people adored and swooned over him and his lovable characters in some of the roles he played.

"Yes." She turned to the polygraph operator and she nodded, "he's telling the truth."

"Damn right, my boyfriend's a heartthrob and he knows it." She said proudly as she looked into the camera.

Harry chuckled and rubbed his eye as he anticipated her final question.

"Last question. Frankly, the most important question. Does pineapple belong on pizza? This could determine the future of our relationship, Haz. I want you to really think about your answer." She warned dramatically. Harry pursed his lips.

"Yes. I think. I like pineapple on pizza, actually." (Y/N) clapped happily and puffed out a small breath of relief. "That's my baby!"

"Alright, my turn, loser."

Harry scoffed loudly and switched his attention to all the cords wrapped around his body parts. He frantically begged the man to remove all the 'gizmos' and 'doo-dads' as quick as possible.

Once he set the singer free, he pranced around the tiny room and threw his arms around his girlfriends body, giving her an enormous hug. "Love you." He mumbled in her hair.

The man then instructed her the same way she had done to Harry. "I can do this." She repeated for the millionth time in the last 5 minutes while a member of the crew hooked her up to the machine. They attached a series of different wires and cords around her chest, fingers and arm.

"I'm scared." She laughed, placing her hand where her heart was. She could feel it pumping quickly.

"Just to let you know, your questions were shit. Mine are actually spicy." Harry teased, excitedly scrolling through the questions on a page in his notes.

He would finally be able to ask some questions that he'd been dying to know about her that he was just too embarrassed to ask on a normal occasion. He hoped some of his questions/some of her answers would reaffirm some things for him.

"Shut up, Styles. I can see you were sweating through your shirt. You're not slick." She smirked, making him lift his arms, where there was a tiny yet noticeable wet patch on the fabric of his expensive shirt.

"Okay, Harry, you can begin asking your questions." The man called as Harry embarrassingly lowered his arm. (Y/N) facepalmed and giggled quietly at his foolishness to herself.

"Okay. Is your name (Y/N) (Y/L/N)?"

"Yes."

"Are you 26 years old?"

"Yes."

"Am I your boyfriend?"

"No." She lied.

"It jumped." The man called, "We're all good."

"Okay," Harry sighed, "I don't know what I would've said if that came out as true." He laughed. "Imagine?" She giggled.

Harry shook his head and read his first real question. "Do you think I'm overly affectionate?" Harry raised his eyebrows while he stared his beautiful girlfriend down. She chuckled and shook her head at his expression, "You're seriously still hung up on that?"

"Just answer the question!" He demanded over-dramatically. "Yes." He gasped and the crew members behind him attempted to cover up their laughs with coughs and sneezes. "But I like that about you. I enjoy your cuddles. That should be considered a compliment." The man confirmed her statement and Harry grinned like a toddler who'd just been told he was going to Disneyland.

"Do you want to get married someday?" He inquired, hope laced in his tone. Although the both of them had spoken about this before, he wanted to make sure. She hesitated for a second, but eventually nodded.

"Yes. As long as it's you." The man blushed and they could hear members of the crew letting out small 'aw's' as they watched them both intently.

"Or Tom Holland, to be honest."

"You just had to ruin the moment." He said moving on while (Y/N) giggled quietly at his disappointment. He swore he heard the serious, monotoned man laugh too.

"The internet made several memes about me after I gushed about your tattoo you got with Emma during our autocomplete interview. Would you get a matching tattoo with me?"

"Of course." Harry’s mouth dropped and turned to the operator for confirmation. He looked up at Harry’s hopeful eyes and nodded. She was telling the truth.

"It's official, everyone, we're getting matching tattoos first thing tomorrow!" Harry deadpanned into the camera, making her publicists laugh in the background.

"You write poems, a lot. I can confirm that," She let out a giggle and nodded her head. "Would you ever write and a poem about me?"

"Um, here’s the thing. I already made a poem or two about hot." She pulled her hair behind her ear nervously. Harry shook his head, his earrings bouncing side to side.

"Which one?" Harry asked childishly, causing her to nervously smile. "Dandelions.” She smiled at the excited boy.

He looked at the camera and mouthed “I knew it”.

"Next… you're known for being a very private person. You've never been public with any of your relationships before me." She nodded. "Out of all these relationships, am I the best boyfriend you've had?" (Y/N) rolled her eyes, expecting to hear the question sooner or later. "Yes, you idiot."

"She's telling the truth." Harry pumped his fist in the air and internally congratulated himself. "I'm so proud of myself, sorry." His cheeks turned red as he noticed everyone waiting for him to get over himself and get on with the next question.

"Before we met, did you listen to any of my songs other than from One Direction?" He rested his head in his palm as he watched her quizzically.

"Um, Duh! I was literally obsessed with you!" She said confidently, thinking back to her fan girl era.

"I already knew the answer to that, I just like hearing her say that she was in love with me." His response made her giggle softly.

"Do you think about the future a lot?"

"All the time."

"Am I in it?" She blushed lightly, "Always."

Harry smirked, repeating one of her previous questions. "Does size matter?"

"You really just took a turn in the opposite direction." She laughed, sending a 'Jim face' towards the camera. "Answer the question! Or else I'm gonna..."

(Y/N) leaned back in her chair as she awaited his answer along with everyone else on set, who was very entertained with the sarcastic couple.

"I'll hit your funny bone. Three times."

"You're adorable." The woman cooed at him while he grumpily pursed his lips. If she were closer, she would've already pinched his cheeks and dramatically rambled on about how cute, soft and innocent he was in front of the camera purposely.

"No, I don't think it does." She repeated his answer from earlier. It was Harry’s turn to roll his eyes. She threw her head back in laughter at his expression and shook her head.

"She's telling the truth." The operator spoke, snapping Harry out of his thoughts. He sent her a skeptical look, while she continued to laugh heavily.

He looked back down at his phone and continued on. "Do you find this man attractive?" Harry had attached a picture to his notes and set his phone flat on the table so the cameras could catch a glimpse of the photo.

It was a photo of Tom Holland at the premiere for his Spider-Man sequel, Spider-Man: Far From Home.

"Duh." She smiled cheekily, blood quickly rushing to her cheeks. Harry groaned as she grabbed his phone and zoomed in to get a better look at all his features. He could practically see her pupils dilate as she stared at the photo.

"Do you think he is more of a heartthrob than me?" She cringed, wondering how she should go about answering this question.

"Yes."

"That's true."

Harry’s jaw went slack. "What!" He shouted with wide eyes. She giggled and raised her hands innocently. "What? Tom Holland is one fine man. You can't get mad at me for that, I mean… look! at! him!" She handed him his phone, zoomed in on Tom's face.

Harry scoffed at her fangirl side coming out as he swallowed heavily.

"Would you leave me for Tom Holland?"

No. (Y/N) thought, holding back a laugh. She thought for a moment. "Yes. Absolutely. 100%. Definitely. No. Questions. Asked." She responded nonchalantly, shrugging her shoulders and leaning back, still being mindful of all the equipment attached to her.

Harry looked down at the metal table and his jaw clenched. She could see his body physically tense as he waited for the polygraph operator to confirm or deny her answer.

"The machine jumped. She's lying."

Harry’s head shot up and he met his girlfriends gaze. She had a small smirk on her face and lifted her hands up to her face as she felt a blush creeping up to her cheeks.

Harry clenched his hands above his head and tilted his head back in his chair, letting out a small yell in triumph. He jumped our of his seat and sized up the camera, getting awfully close.

"You all heard that! I'm done! That's the last question, this couldn't have gone better." He dropped his phone and quickly made his way around the table, being careful not to trip on any wires or break the polygraph machine in any way.

He crouched down and wrapped his arms around her torso, burying his face into the crock of her neck because he couldn't stop his raging smile. "I knew it!"

She looked into the camera, still in her boyfriends embrace and gazed into the camera. She jokingly motioned a 'no' with her hands and mouthed 'Tom, call me', sending the camera a wink and bringing her right hand out with her pinky and thumb sticking out, making it look like a phone and bringing it up to her ear.

Harry felt her movement and looked up at her eyes. She quickly brought her hand to his shoulder and looked down at him as if nothing happened. He placed multiple tiny kisses all around her face, making her crinkle her nose and eyes.

He turned back to the camera for a spilt second. "You heard it here first, (Y/N) (Y/L/N) wouldn't leave me, Harry Styles for Tom Holland! Goodbye! Subscribe to Vanity Fair!" He saluted, still smiling uncontrollably as they both waved at the camera.

#request #afab reader #imagines #reader insert #famous!reader #harry styles x famous!reader #harry styles #harry styles imagine #vanity fair #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles x fem!reader

[k4mm]

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

[tetragonia]

Midnight Repair Shop

John "Bucky" Egan x Female!Mechanic!Reader

Blurb: In the middle of the night, accompanied with the choruses of men from the Officer’s pub afar, Bucky saw the hangar light was on. He peeked and found Jerry to his Tom—(Y/N), one of the mechanics whose side job apparently was to annoy him. It was that one time when Bucky and (Y/N) repaired not only the plane, but somehow their whole dynamics all these months.

warning: inaccuracies especially with the mechanical terms because I'm not used to them and just looked em up from the internet. also, maybe weird phrasing or grammatical incorrect since English is not my first language. pls let me know what I could do better <3

note: pure fluff and giggles, some arguments but all is good with our Bucky. this is my first mota fic out there and why shouldn't i choose our antic Bucky as the main character? ;) also, this is based on the portrayal of the actors from Masters of the Air. all respect to the veterans and family

words: 3160 (sorry!)

It was a sunny day as the sun was casting a golden hue over Thorpe Abbotts, the distant hum of aircraft engines signaled the approach of returning fighter planes. Among them was Major John Egan–”it’s just me, Bucky’s fine”–his B-17 streaking through the sky and leading the squadron. It was not an easy mission, but it was nothing they couldn’t handle. The route was clear and the enemy’s cover was minimum.

With steady hands, Bucky guided his aircraft toward the runway as his eyes scanned the horizon for any signs of trouble. The roar of the engine filled the cockpit as he made minute adjustments to his altitude and speed, preparing for the critical moment of touchdown.

As the wheels of his B-17 made contact with the tarmac, Bucky maneuvered and smoothly brought it to a stop with. The plane rolled to a halt, its engine purring contentedly as Bucky taxied toward the waiting ground crew.

You were one of the ground crews, a skilled mechanic around the base. People knew your work ethic and they damn respected you out of it. And that clearly gave some benefits around here.

“Back from another joyride, Major?”

You emphasized the rank as Bucky made his way out from the cockpit. His flight suit was slightly disheveled, his hair was a bit scruffy but his smile was as bright as the summer sun. Brady jumped out, his eyes scanned you and Bucky.

“Hey, (Y/N).”

“Capt,” you tilted your chin and raised your eyebrows slightly to acknowledge his presence.

“Joyride?” Bucky pulled your attention back at him. “More like a death-defying adventure, (Y/N). You know, I like to keep things exciting.”

“That ain’t exciting, bud,” you sighed, rolling your eyes. “Let’s see what kind of mess you’ve gotten yourself into this time.”

You wasted no time inspecting the plane, your expert eye quickly picking up on any signs of damage. Still locking your eyes to the plane, you said, “I swear, Bucky, if next time you come back with another dent in your plane, I’m going to start charging you for the repairs. And trust me, it ain’t cheap.”

“Did you just threaten me?” he let out a dramatic gasp, putting his hand in front of his chest. “You know, I think I’m starting to rub off on you. After all, it truly takes a special kind of person to keep up with a pilot like me.”

Your hands ran through the plane’s body, bullet holes were scattered and some flak damages were tattooed to the metal skin. You suspected there were some engine reduction from the enemy’s fire, as well as control surface damage.

“You’re not the only one keeping me busy. I have plenty of other pilots crashing their planes too, creating these cute little bends and missing some rivets,” you couldn’t help but to roll your eyes again.

“You know, (Y/N), I’m starting to think you have a thing for me crashing. How else do you explain always being there to fix up my messes?” still in his dramatic tone, he raised an eyebrow at you.

You turned your head to him, trying to mimic his dramatic gasp earlied, “Oh my God! Weird thing is, I can’t imagine having this thing called a job! Have you ever heard of that?”

You lost count on rolling your eyes at him. He laughed faintly and started to walk away from you. 

“Hey, (Y/N), if I had a penny for every time you gave me that look of disapproval, I’d have enough to buy myself a damn new plane. One that doesn’t need fixing every time I fly it.”

“Spare your voice for the interrogation, Bucky, you’re just talking shit right now,” you said dismissively. You could hear his ragged breath from your place, that man clearly needed to at least have a good hot chow.

“Ouch, that stings.”

Despite your dismissive tone, you couldn’t help but to let a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

As the darkness draped itself over Thorpe Abbotts like a heavy cloak, the Officer's pub emerged as a sanctuary of warmth and light. The air was buzzing with the low hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses, faint laughters could be heard from afar. Bucky Egan was bathed in a warm, golden light from the row of lanterns that lined the walls. Wooden beams crisscrossed the ceiling above him, their darkened surfaces reflecting the soft glow of the fire roaring in the hearth.

Around the room, Bucky found himself gathered at wooden tables with other airmen as the air was thick with the scent of pipe tobacco and the familiar aroma of alcohol, mingling with the lively strains of a piano being played in the corner.

“I don’t know, man. You seem pretty tipsy already,” Buck Cleven shook his head with a chuckle when Bucky offered to buy them another round of drinks. “I don’t want you stumbling into any trouble, you know.”

Hearing what his buddy said, Bucky laughed. “Me? Trouble? Com on, Buck, you know me better than that. I can handle myself just fine! Look at this.”

Bucky tried to jump from his seat to buy another round, but then he stumbled and let the men laugh as he landed in a weird position.

“Alright, alright,” he said, laughing with them too. He was just too damn charming to be ashamed, it’s alarming.

“No more drinks,” Bucky said, God knows to Buck or to himself.

“No more drinks,” Buck hummed the same chorus. Bucky laughed, shook his head faintly.

“I’m gonna head back,” he eventually reached a decision. “And I don’t want any of you to take me, feel like flying solo tonight. ‘Kay?”

“Sure, Bucky, whatever you want,” Brady laughed as he sipped his glass. With that, Bucky stumbled out into the cool night air, leaving the sounds of laughter and conversation that faded behind him. He took a deep breath, the crisp night air helped him clearing his muddled mind as he made his unsteady steps back to his barrack.

Humming sporadic notes from Bing Crosby, he noticed a faint flickering light shined through the windows from a hangar nearby with its door ajar. Curious, and perhaps a little tipsy, he decided to investigate.

Who the hell works at this hour, he thought to himself. With a curious tilt of his head, he veered off course, his feet guiding him toward the source of lights. Peeking a bit, he was greeted by the sight of your back, working on his plane.

Bucky sauntered in, his flight jacket slung over one shoulder, a cocky grin plastered across his face. He squinted against the sudden brightness, his eyes struggling to adjust to the harsh contrast after the darkness outside. Blinking rapidly, he stumbled forward, laughing at his own stupidity. And he might or might not realize that he always felt way more stupid around you, throwing all those flirts and banters like a loony.

“Hey there, (Y/N)! Patching up the old birds, are we?” Bucky slurred slightly. 

You turned your head at him, still on your workbench raising an eyebrow at Bucky’s disheveled appearance.

“Looks like someone had a bit too much to drink tonight,” you made a remark as you continued working gunning the rivets. “Too much liquid courage at the pub?”

Bucky chuckled, he leaned against a nearby box for support. “Liquid courage? More like liquid genius! But hey, I couldn’t resist the chance to see your pretty face before I hit the hay.”

Bucky grinned stupidly at your back as he heard you replied monotonously, “Oh lucky me. The pleasure is all mine, I’m sure.”

He laughed at your dry response, stepped in. “Nah, just needed a little pick-me-up after a long day of saving the world. You know how it is.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t suppress a smile at Bucky’s antics. You’ve gotten used to all that now, working side by side for a couple months.

“Yeah, yeah, the brave pilot routine. I’ve heard it all before. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got work to do.”

As Bucky watched you expertly finish tinkering the body, you couldn’t help but admire your skill and determination. God knows since when you had worked on his plane today!

He leaned against the nearby workbench, his grin widening. “It’s your touch that keeps her purring, (Y/N). Without you, she’d be just another hunk of metal gathering dust.”

You rolled your eyes. "Flattery will get you nowhere, flyboy. You’re not fooling anyone with your smooth talk.”

“Hey, I’m just stating facts!”

“Yeah, and Hitler’s a good man. Now do me a favor, hand me the rivet gun over there,” you asked, tilting your head to the tool box.

Your hand brushed with his as he handed you the rivet gun. The wind suddenly swirled around the hangar and you shuddered at the chills down your spine. You took the gun swiftly and placed it over the exposed end of the rivet shaft. You securely fastened patches of those new aluminum sheets metal onto the wing, covering the bullet holes.

You’d been fixing the engine with Ken all day, finished just before the curfew. To clear your mind, you decided to fix the panels tonight as you asked Ken to get a hot chow. After some good arguments thrown from you, Ken gave up and walked away.

And here you were, in the hangar with the famous Bucky Egan. You’d been working with him for months, yet you didn’t know if he made all those compliments and flattery to other women as well. There weren’t any female mechanics around here and you knew he had his own way with women.

Flattery didn’t get him anywhere, but it got you somewhere. 

You decided to break the silence, “You know, Bucky, I’m starting to think you pilots have a secret competition to see who can wreck their plane the most. Am I right?”

To hide whatever feelings that tried to surface, you put your familiar mask–strict, to the point, and sometimes a bit offensive. That way, you could protect yourself.

“Am clearly the best,” from the corner of your eyes, you could see him nodded and smiling. Suddenly it was so infuriating, how smiley he always was, how cheerful and friendly he was to you. How easy he was to throw compliments, and how easy he was to look at her with such adoration.

“Yeah, I've always thought you were a great pilot. Shame you're not quite as good at keeping your plane in one piece.”

You were unable to keep your feelings now. It was bottled up all this time. You were tired, hungry, and thirsty. You were vulnerable.

“Hey, hey, now,” Bucky might be a bit drunk but he wasn’t stupid. Something in the air shifted, your tone was harsh. Too harsh for his liking and your own good. Your tone was aggressive and he felt like you tried to hurt him with your remarks. Usually, they were all harmless, he even found you funny. But what was with the sudden change of tone?

“Come on, now. Why do you always pick on me?” Bucky tried to remain calm.

Forgot being calm! You were raging all of sudden. “Why would I pick on you, stop being so full of yourself.”

That’s it. That was the last straw.

“Hey, that stings!” Bucky was flustered, he walked closer to you, gaze piercing your back.

You sighed. You’re tired. You’ve been working all day and haven’t eaten since 8 am. It’s somewhere over 12 am now.

Fuck, you muttered to yourself. You need to shape the replacement panels to match the contours of the wing’s surface before riveting them. You got up and walked to the sheet metal bender, but Bucky stopped you.

With the faint hangar light on top of you both, now Bucky could fully take a look at your current state. You knew you looked terrible.

“Okay, you need to stop,” Bucky sighed. “Go to your barrack. You need to sleep.”

“I need to work.”

“She can wait. I’ll ask Lemmons to patch her up early in the morning,” Bucky said, his voice was authoritative. “Now, let’s get you some sleep.”

“No,” you tried to walk to the metal bender but his grip was strong.

“Come on, or I’m gonna abduct you.”

You almost rolled your eyes at that, but he quickly swept you off the ground. “Hey! Put me down!”

Despite the serious and cold air surrounding you both earlier, you could see how Bucky giggled. You always acted all tough, but you were just a girl for him. Your strength couldn’t even match him.

She’s cute, you didn’t know Bucky thought that right now.

He thought this was all just a joke, your mind stated.

“Nah, I’ll put you on your bed myself.”

You huffed in frustration, your attempts to free yourself only serving to make Bucky hold on tighter. "This isn't funny, Bucky! Put me down right now!"

But before Bucky could respond, his foot caught on a stray toolbox lying on the floor, sending you both tumbling to the ground in a tangled heap of limbs. With a yelp of surprise, you landed on top of him, your bodies pressed together in an awkward and unexpected embrace.

For a moment, you lay there in stunned silence, the only sound filling the air was the pounding of your hearts. 

With a stupid grin on his face, Bucky smiled surprisingly sweetly, “Hello.”

As the realization of your predicament sunk in, your cheeks flushed crimson, maybe with anger or maybe with something else.

"Are you kidding me, Bucky?" you exclaimed, pushing yourself off him with a scowl. "I told you to put me down!"

Bucky winced while grinning sheepishly, rubbing his head where it had collided with the floor. He was fully sober now, thanks for the thud. "I'm sorry, (Y/N). I didn't mean for us to fall."

You crossed your arms over your chest, your expression still stormy. "Well, it's not funny. You could have seriously injured yourself. You’re one of the best pilots we’ve got, what would happen if you got hurt?!"

Bucky sighed, his earlier amusement fading as he met your angry gaze. He got up, walked a step closer to you. 

"You need to be worried about yourself. What is it, (Y/N)? You’re not usually this… tensed. Is something bothering you?”

Bucky put his hand on your shoulder. You stiffened at his touch, jerking away as if scalded. 

"I'm fine," you snapped, your tone once again sharp and defensive.

Bucky's brow furrowed in confusion, hurt flickering in his eyes. "Hey, I was just asking. You don't have to bite my head off."

You didn’t want to meet his gaze. Your eyes wandered to the floor that suddenly became so interesting.

But you knew that Bucky wasn't about to let you off the hook that easily. "I don't buy it, (Y/N). You've been acting strange lately, and I want to know why."

You scoffed, rubbed your eyes slowly, “It’s nothing.”

“Hey, tell me,” Bucky now grabbed your arms and once again you stiffened at his gesture. You looked up as your gaze fell to his, eyes blinked rapidly. Your cheeks flushed as you once again broke eye contact and looked at the new interesting thing: the metal bender.

And a realization hit Bucky like a lightning. The way you laughed or rolled your eyes at his jokes despite being known as a serious fella, the way you looked at him before he took off, the way you always kept some distance…

“Hey,” Bucky’s voice softened. “I’ve never been this straightforward, but we don’t have much time… Do you like me?”

He could feel your muscles tensed under his touch. You still refused to look at him.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. Where did the tough, no-nonsense (Y/N) go?

“Hey, (Y/N), look at me,” Bucky asked you gently. He knew for sure that you held a feeling for him and he was too damn stupid to realize. He tried so hard to suppress his smile.

You looked up, his expression was soft and his eyes fixed on you with a gleam that made the butterflies crazy inside your stomach.  You thought about every possible reaction: rejections, lots of yelling, a broken respect and trust, no more jokes and friendships… But you didn’t expect when he leaned closer and brought you in, when his lips touched yours with a gentleness you could only imagine.

Bucky’s lips tasted like a good amount of mint and alcohol mixture. You were intoxicated. He put his hand on your hip, the other caressed your cheek. His touch was a gentle yet firm anchor, drawing you closer to him in a silent declaration of desire. Your fingers traced the curves of your hips with a tender reverence, his touch sending shivers down your spine as you melted into his embrace.

He’d never imagine touching you, grabbing your crinkled jumpsuit as he kissed you deeper, his hands wandered. You felt a rush of warmth spreading through your body, igniting a fire within you that you couldn’t ignore. His hands, strong and sure from years of training, held you as if you were the most precious thing in the world. His touch was both possessive and protective all at once.

When you both pulled away, trying to catch a breath, you saw Bucky smiling. His hands were still on your hips, now the right one stroke your cheek and your lips.

"You know, (Y/N), I've always admired you. The way you always know your way around an engine, your work ethic, your remarks, your replies to my jokes… I've always thought you were pretty amazing,” he whispered. “The way you handle those machines... it's something else. That’s why I always send my plane to you."

Your cheeks flushed slightly at the unexpected compliments, and you cleared your throat awkwardly. You were anything but flushed and fluttered.

"Well, I guess someone has to keep you flyboys in the air. Can't have you crashing and burning without us, right? You better treat her right up there or I'll make sure your next landing isn't so smooth."

Bucky grinned, feeling a surge of confidence after a heavy cloud towering you both  earlier.

"Hey, what do you say we had a drink tomorrow? I’d like to discuss tonight's matter, after you had a good rest of course.”

Your heart raced at the thought of spending more time with Bucky outside of work. You were exhausted, but after what happened tonight, you knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep.

"I suppose one drink couldn't hurt. But don't think this means I'm going easy on you, Bucky. I've got a reputation to uphold, after all."

#masters of the air #bucky egan #john egan #callum turner #mota #mota bucky #masters of the air bucky #masters of the air fanficiton #masters of the air imagine #masters of the air x reader #bucky egan x reader #bucky egan fanfiction #bucky egan fluff #bucky egan fic #mota fanfiction #mota x reader #masters of the air imagines #callum turner imagines #callum turner x reader #john egan x reader #john egan fanfiction #tetrapost mota

[httpknjoon]

eagle-eyed | ksj

plot | That time Jin saw you arriving on set with someone else.

word count | 805

genres | fluff(?)

pairing | actor!jin x famous!reader

note | my first drabble about them in their pre-relationship era! this one's short but enjoy reading!

main masterlist | the a-listers: confidential masterlist

It was around the first week of your filming for your second movie together, Lonely People.

Jin was just having a small chat with one of the crew guys from the sound department when he noticed an unfamiliar car arriving at the set. It’s not like he knows every vehicle in the set but this one caught his eye. It’s one of Bentley’s latest releases. So, whoever it is in that car does have a thick pocket. But he could not tell who it was. The glasses were tinted very dark.

Additionally, it was a very early call time, before four in the morning to be exact. The skies were still in deep shade of blue.  The scene he is about to shoot with you includes a beautiful sunrise, that’s why.

When the car stopped in one of the less crowded spaces, a bit distant from where was Jin standing. he was surprised to see you got off the passenger side of the car. You were wearing a loose white button-up shirt, tucked in your high-waist jeans. Your hair was tied in a messy bun, which is fine since you still have to go in the makeup chair before getting in front of the camera.

He watched your back leaning in inside the car once again, as if talking to the mystery driver, before closing the door. Even though it’s a little dim, Jin catches a small glimpse of the driver. With a medium-sized coffee in hand and a shoulder bag on the other, you walked in the direction of the parked trailer. Jin said goodbye to the crew member he was talking with before following behind you. 

“Hey, bub.” he greeted you.

“Oh, hello, Jinnie. Good morning.” Turning around, you smiled before leaning in to give him a friendly cheek kiss.

He didn’t mean to be weird. But that short interaction gave him a small sniff of a strong scent in your hair. It was familiar and he could tell that it was men’s shampoo. He tried to shake off any thoughts bubbling in his mind. Instead, he asked,

“Where’s Hailey?”

“She’s coming. We came with different cars, a friend drove me here,” you replied while typing in your phone before sipping in your coffee.

Jin reiterated, “A friend?”

His strange tone made you turn around to look at him. You stared at his face like you were studying his expression. He simply grinned.

“Yes, Jinnie. A friend,” you repeated, squinting, before walking again.

Jin continues to follow behind you until you stop in front of your trailer. He spoke again, “Well, your friend looks like the popular Kim Taehyung.”

Kim Taehyung is another well-known name in the industry. He is one of Hollywood’s favorite heartthrobs. Other than his works, he is also popular in gossip magazines with his ever-changing dating rumors. He is often captured by paparazzi hanging out with various actresses and personalities. His rumors often paint him as a womanizer.

As if the name was something illegal, you immediately looked around before pulling Jin, by his shirt, inside your trailer. You locked the door and eyed him.

You sighed, “Okay, it’s him. We’ve been seeing each other for like weeks now.”

Jin never knew how hard it was not to slump his shoulder until now. He didn’t want to look like he was disappointed or jealous because he wasn’t. He wasn’t. He. Wasn’t. 

“And I really like him. He seems very nice and sweet too. Plus, we are enjoying the company of each other. But it would really suck if the media gets their hands on us. So, I’m begging you, Kim Seokjin. Please, don’t tell anyone about this.”

Pleading, you looked at him.

And your eyes. Your eyes were doing those things on him. Again. Every time you look at him, he always sees those sparkles that he cannot see with anyone else. It does things in him that usually include a million butterflies playing around in his stomach. 

Feeling something stuck in his throat, he cleared his throat. The anxiety is written all over your face and he can understand why. Dating is hard in Hollywood. Privacy doesn’t exist for everyone here. But if you manage to keep a relationship secret, it can be really nerve-wracking to maintain it. And you saying this to him meant that you truly trust him. So, Jin exhaled through his nose. He raised his hand and acted to zip his mouth before throwing the imaginary key away.

He spoke, “I saw nothing, bub. What are you saying?”

Your expression relaxed while the corner of your lips turned upward. You wrapped your arms around his waist,

“Thank you so much, Jin. I appreciate it. A lot.”

“No problem, bub.” Jin hugged you back as he whispered, hoping it would hide whatever he was feeling.

THE A-LISTERS: CONFIDENTIAL TAGLIST

@xiumo @joonsbvtch @firesighgirl @qualityjoonie @txtlyn @yoontaethings @zwiehe

PERMANENT TAGLIST

@dunixxd @cixrosie @jksjx @embrace-themagic @buttvi @starbtslove @missseoulite @vanntaesworld @kenqki @imajinthis @stopeatread @seolaquotes @greyrain23 @chimchimmarie @petalsofink @jayhope88 @moonchild1 @laylasbunbunny @nikkiordonez12 @misshale21

#jin x reader #jin fluff #bts jin #jin fic #jin au #seokjin x reader #seokjin fanfiction #seokjin fluff #bts fluff #bts x reader #bts imagine #bts series #the a listers ksj #the a listers: universe lol

[dietmountaindreww]

the interview

Part 1

Drew Starkey x Female Reader

warnings: none!! fluff, slightly suggestive.

Y/N and Drew are in the back of the taxi which he politely ordered for them, sitting across each-other. Drew knew Y/N had anxiety and her leg can’t help but shake slightly with nerves. This would be her first press interview ever.

“Hey, you okay?” He asks and placed his hand on her leg softly over her skirt, helping to calm her shaking, not making a big deal out of the situation. “We will be there in no time, you are going to be amazing, i’m sure of it.” Drew promised, looking into Y/N’s eyes. She looked at him, before calming down; something about his touch was so soothing. “Yeah, i’m just nervous. But i’m sure i’ll be fine with you there.” Y/N replied calmly. “What’s it like? Being interviewed?”Drew smiles. “At first it’s weird, you aren’t sure how to answer questions sometimes. It sort of feels like being put on the spot, but it’s all part of being an actor.” He explained, wanting to help take some pressure off her as he could tell she was nervous. “After a few times it won’t be as weird anymore, trust me.. we will be fine, I know that.” Y/N smiled and nodded in appreciation of his gentle reassurance. “Thank you Drew.”

She looks out the taxi window to the busy streets of Downtown New York, before realising his hand was still resting on her leg.. she didn’t react physically of course but her heart and mind was racing at an unbelievable speed. “No worries.” Drew winked playfully, taking her hand from off her leg as he sets it on the window bar, he glanced over to see if she was okay. He didn’t want to make it awkward and all he wanted to do was comfort Y/N.. he’s also looking at her because she looks absolutely beautiful.. drawing his eyes away quickly before it was noticeable.

The taxi stops and they arrive at a reporters building, where their interview is. Although Drew had been in Outer Banks since season one, Y/N was joining him to do a dual interview seeing as she played the Drew’s character’s love interest.. essentially a main part in the show. “Is this the place” Y/N asked Drew as she stepped out the car after he insisted on holding the door open for her. Drew looked back at the building, slightly nervous now too. But he plastered a smile just for her. “Yeah, i think so.” He takes her hand softly, walking inside the building and heading to reception. Drew whispered to Y/N as a woman escorted them down a corridor. “You’ll be fine, the press will love you.” He’s a good friend and he knows how terrifying it can be in the limelight. Y/N returned a soft smile of gratitude before entering a small room where she and Drew shook hands with the Female Reporter and the Camera crew. Drew gives Y/N a professional nod as they sit in two chairs opposite the reporter, about to start live-streaming.

The reporter sits down, direct to them after hearing the command; “ACTION!” Y/N is happily giving the woman her full respect and attention, Drew admires this before doing the same.

“Drew, what is there to expect from your character, Rafe Cameron in season four of Outer Banks?” The woman shuffled her cards before listening to his response. Drew smiled, speaking as a natural. “I can promise you season four is going to be amazing. You are all definitely going to see me more in action, viewing Rafe at his best and his worst.. he certainly has some big choices to make and definitely some hard ones. For himself, and those who he loves.” Drew motioned to Y/N playfully, “A lot more action and drama, as if there wasn’t enough already.” The three of them chuckled at this. Nodding in agreement, the reporter turned to Y/N. “Y/N, as a new character how did you settle in with the cast? How was filming?” Y/N smiles and replied surprisingly with immediate confidence. “Working with the cast and filming crew has been such an honour, and i’ve made such great friends in the past few years of filming. The cast are like family to me already and we’re more than welcoming.” Drew smiles at her reply, he is more than happy she feels so comfortable and he knows how important it is to have the support of your friends and colleagues on set.

The reporter looked at both of them. “How did you find playing each others love interests, was it awkward?” Y/N giggled slightly before responding on her half, “I’ve loved working with Drew, honestly it was a dream. He’s so good at what he does and he makes everything fun, so nothing was ever awkward. I don’t think i could’ve done it with anyone else.” Drew chuckled, she was really doing well and it made him feel more at ease somehow. “I completely agree with Y/N, she’s so talented and definitely has her moments where she lights up the room.” Y/N blushes slightly before turning back to the reporter who has her next question ready.

“Will we be seeing buzzcut Rafe or curtain bangs Rafe this season?” They answer several more questions before the reporter was on the final two questions.“The fans want to know.. are you two a thing?”

The camera man looked in confusion at the reporter, seeing this question wasn’t on their set list. Y/N blushes profusely before smiling uncomfortably. “No.. just friends” she awkwardly replied. Drew feels quite awkward and doesn’t know how to answer this. “We’re just really good friends, nothing more.”

The reporter nodded. “Final question is selected by the viewers watching this live stream right now.. What’s each of your dream roles in a movie?”

Y/N smiles at the camera and waves cutely. “Hi everyone, thanks for your support!” Before turning back to the reporter, “I’d love to be in a marvel movie. I always loved the comics growing up.” Drew smiles. Y/N could definitely land a role in a marvel movie with that beauty and that body. “I can see that Y/N, As for me I would just love to be the lead in any sort of action movie, it’s really fun and i think i’m pretty good at it too. I would love to be in something like that.”

The reporter thanked them and Y/N and Drew are walking out to exit the building. “That was so much better than i thought it would go.” Y/N giggled as they walked out into main street. Drew shrugged, “That went pretty smoothly, i’m so proud of you.” Y/N blushes before Drew spoke and hugged her tightly with a friendly smile. “Do you want to celebrate your first interview success?”

Y/N felt a little flustered in his arms as she remembered a few weeks ago when he held her like this when they hooked up. It was like they never mentioned anything that happened.. friends with benefits with a full stop. “Sure , How were you thinking we celebrate?”

Drew pulled away, hands in pockets. “I thought we could have dinner and maybe some wine too.. or if you prefer we can just go to mine and watch a movie.. or we can go to town.. you choose. How does that sound?” He wants whatever she would like to do, and Y/N nodded, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Wine sounds nice.”

#outerbanks rafe #rafe angst #rafe x y/n #rafe obx #rafe x reader #rafe smut #drew starkey smut #drew starkey #drew starkey imagine #drew x y/n #dad! drew

[hollygracesworld]

Lover | Patrick Wilson x fem!Reader

Summary : You and Patrick had a one night stand a few months ago. And now you’re 6 months pregnant. You don't expect to meet the father of your child because you’re a woman who prefers to be alone. But fate said otherwise, you meet again with the father who made your stomach grow big.

And you stupidly didn’t know that he was an actor.

A/N : Just like the tittle, it’s a fluffy story :D the most romantic fanfic that i ever write tbh. There’s no warning :))

*Patrick didn’t have a wife in this story*

CHAPTER 1/2 ➡️(Chapter 2) sequel 18+

masterlist

CHAPTER 1.

Today is the most hectic day. You have to wake up at dawn to go to the airport. When you arrive at the airport you have to take care of your aunt’s two twin babies, then when it gets to noon you take the babies to go to the talk show.

When you arrive at the shooting location, you hope that your uncle will at least meet you and help you take care of his own children, but apparently not. That annoying old man even just looks at you who’s taking care of his 2 babies, nods, then goes back to minding his business as host.

Now the babies are quiet and asleep in their own stroller- after they cried for a long time and you have held them one by one so they fall asleep. It’s really tiring work for a 6 month pregnant mother. Actually it’s not a job, more like a favor to a relative in your family. No one else can help them except you, you actually don't mind because you don't want your family to think that pregnant women like you can't do any work.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Talk About It!” You heard your uncle’s voice from behind the screen.

You don’t care about things like that, but when your gaze accidentally looks at the huge Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom film poster displayed, you look confused. Your feelings are mixed. You seem to know the blonde man on the film poster. But deep in your heart, you deny it. Maybe you’re just hallucinating because you are very hungry and tired.

You try to peek through the window to see who is the guest star at the event. But you gasped when you saw who was there.

“…it is our guy Patrick Wilson… Patrick welcome back TAT.” the audience applauded then Patrick said there, “thank you..” with a big smile

You feel like this is like a dream. You’re confused, this is all very difficult for you to digest. You walk away from that place feeling dazed, your body is getting weaker, not only because you haven’t eaten, but because you know that the man who had a One Night Stand with you and impregnated you until your stomach was this big… is a famous actor.

When you walked backwards, your body almost fell, a crew member swiftly held your body and helped you. “oh my gosh, who are you, why are you here?” She grabbed your arm and led you to a seat beside the stairs.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.. I’m fine...” you said while looking at Patrick from afar, “he’s my uncle, today I'm taking care of his baby. His wife told me to go to this shooting location and after this event finished he immediately invited us to hang out. You know… it’s a holiday.” you said while pointing at your uncle who was the host.

“You look really pale, and you're pregnant,” she looked really worried about you. Then he stood up and invited one of his teammates to chat. After a short chat, he came over to you again and said, “please come with me. You haven’t eaten yet, right?”

You shook your head weakly.

“But… what about the babies? I have to keep looking after them... otherwise my uncle will get angry...”

“Don't worry, my friend will look after the babies.” She said with a sincere smile. She is a stranger who works there as a crew but she seems to have a motherly heart.

That kind crew helped you to stand up. You carry your very big stomach to walk out of that very crowded place. Somehow you can feel that your stomach is very big, even though it’s only 6 months, but your stomach looks like it’s more than that.

“Andrew is so mean,” she said in an annoyed tone, “how can he and his wife tell you to look after their babies? Don’t they see your condition?”

“Thank you,” you smiled faintly, and grabbed the water bottle she had given you, “I’m fine. Besides, this isn't the first time. Sometimes I help them whenever they need my help.”

“Yes, but it’s the same. They should know that you are pregnant with twins and they shouldn’t be bossing you around like this.” she said irritably then stood at the end of the room and took her lunch.

“Wait, how do you know I'm pregnant with twins when I haven't checked myself?” you asked in confusion.

“I don't know… just look at the shape,” she said lightly then sat back down next to you and handed you his lunch, “please eat. I know it's not much, but if you want to wait for Andrew, he's still very long and you You have to fill your stomach now.”

“Thank you,” you said then accepted the food, “Sorry for bothering you, I...”

“Please don't apologize. You’re a pregnant mother. I have seen that you are tired from taking care of the babies. I have been wanting to meet you for a long time, because I was afraid that something would happen to you." She said worriedly.

While you were eating, someone knocked on the door of the room and told him to go back to work.

“I'm sorry, I have to go, you can stay here to rest as long as you need.” She said with a smile.

After you finish your food. You grabbed your cellphone that was on the table and opened your Google. You are a woman who likes gardening and raising livestock. You don't even have social media, only send messages to your family and neighbors. The only reason you were going to a nightclub and losing your virginity to a guy you didn’t know is because you’re really stressed. You have just lost your older brother who is the only biological family who is still alive and lives with you.

And now you’re pregnant with someone's baby who took your virginity off in a nightclub and it turns out that person is a famous person. You’re typing “Patrick Wilson” in Google and it turns out...

You gasped in surprise. you still don’t know what to say. You think to yourself that maybe Patrick already has a wife or girlfriend, and maybe Patrick doesn’t know you anymore...

In the middle of that daydream, suddenly the door opened wide and your uncle was standing near the door with a guilty face.

“Y/N... I'm sorry. I'll take you home...”

You smiled, “it's okay, I'm just late eating.”

Your uncle smiled as he looked at your stomach, “how old are you in your pregnancy?”

“6 months... but it looks bigger, don't know why...” you whispered.

“You haven't seen a obstetricians recently, have you?" your uncle asked then you shook your head, “come here, before I take the twins to the park, we can check them first--"

“Let me." said a man mysteriously behind your uncle.

Your uncle turned and gasped, “Patrick-uh Patrick what are you doing here?”

Patrick laughed softly, “I know I shouldn’t have done this behind the scenes, but I am the man who got your niece pregnant,” Patrick’s words suddenly shocked your Uncle, so shocked that it was even difficult to digest everything.

“Y/N... is that true?"

You inhale and exhale. You find this situation very difficult to digest. “Yes, Uncle Andrew. He is the father of my child.”

Patrick smiled at you. But you can see that he feels guilty for all this. He didn’t know that all this time there was a woman who was pregnant with his child but he wasn’t there.

Your uncle turned to Patrick then turned to you. He massaged his forehead, then exhaled. “Okay, I’ll give you some time. Please...” said your uncle while patting Patrick on the shoulder.

You got up from your seat when Patrick had closed the door to the room. The two of you face each other and stand now.

“I’m sorry..”

“No, this is not your fault. We were strangers having a one night stand. I understand, this is not your responsibility, please don't feel that you have to do all this. I could have aborted the pregnancy from day one, but—"

“But you don’t have the heart to do that. You have a very kind heart to raise the child of someone you don’t know. And regarding responsibility, I have full responsibility for my child.” Patrick said in a firm voice. He sighed, then walked over to you.

“You thought I didn’t see you from far away, right?”Patrick took both of your hands and held them, “the moment I saw you, I knew that you were the person I slept with that night. And I had a strong feeling that the child you were carrying was mine.”

“Y/N... thank you…” Patrick said in a very low tone. His blue eyes looked very happy, “I’m the happiest man in this world…. the most important thing of all is, I want to really get to know the mother who is carrying my child.”

#patrick wilson #patrick wilson x you #patrick wilson x reader #fanfics #orm marius #orm marius x reader #aquaman and the lost kingdom #josh lambert #patrick wilson x fem!reader #patrick wilson x female reader

[holylulusworld]

Taped on video - Kinktober 30

Summary: You end up crowded by three men...

Pairing: J3 (Jensen, Jared, Jeff) x fem!Reader

Idea by: @moosekateer13

A/N: This is pure fiction. For the sake of this story all three a single.

Warnings: dom J3/sub reader, breeding bench, dirty talk, slut-shaming, unprotected sex, smut, oral (male rec), double penetration (oral/vaginal), voyeurism, cum play, sex tapes, a hint of dub-con, mentions of anal sex (nothing happens), taking turns, implied extortion/extortion, a hint of Dark J3

Kinktober vs Flufftober 2023

“Guys,“ you crack your neck. “I know you are excited and giddy like schoolboys because you can work together on the show, but please, give me a break.”

Jeffrey cocks a brow at your comment. He was falling out of his role once again, and you had to yell cut once again. “What’s the matter, doll?” He drawls, flashing you an irresistible smirk. You assume Jeffrey is used to being in control, but you won’t have it.

“I’m not your doll,” you snap at the actor. If you don’t set boundaries right away, they will walk all over you in no time. “You ruined the scene for the fourth time. We all love bloopers and gag reels, but we need to get this scene done. All of us want to go home before dusk.”

“We are on in, sweetheart,” Jensen makes you the Dean. He grins and winks at you. “Let me handle them. They are a bunch of schoolboys.”

“Fine. We are going to make another break. Fifteen minutes. Calm down and relax,” you glare in Jared’s direction. You don’t need him to pull another prank on you or one of the crew members.”

“Action!” You call out, hoping the three will finally get their shit together so you can finish the scene. It’s getting late and you’ve got a date with your bathtub, your vibrator, and a glass of wine.

You watch Jensen and Jared fall into their roles. They run toward the Impala, fighting their way through monsters. The scene unfolds and you pray, they won’t fall out of their roles again.

“DEAN!”

“Sammy!”

“Doll!” Jeffrey snickers as you angrily fling your phone across the set. You huff and get out of your chair.

“What is wrong with you today? We are all tired and want to get out of here. Guys, it’s the night before Halloween and I want to get some rest before I attend the annual Halloween party tomorrow.”

“We are trying, doll,” Jeff smirks darkly, looking more like his alter ego Negan than himself. He licks his lips, eyes trained on your chest. “What can I say? We are distracted by your beauty, boss.”

You shudder at the roughness of his voice. He looks like a predator spying on his prey. Hazel eyes follow your every step as you get out of your chair once again.

“Everyone, we call it a day. It’s getting too late. The light is wrong,” you look at your crew. “Go home and enjoy your evening. We come back to the scene the day after tomorrow.”

“Are you sure?” One of the cameramen asks. “We can try to get it done today. No problem.”

“The scene is almost finished.” Rubbing your temple, you sigh. If only these guys didn’t mess with you today. “We can get back at it next time.”

You clap your hands at the rest of the crew, ignoring Jensen, Jared, and Jeff. “Thank you all for your patience and professionalism today. I know it was an exhausting and long day. We will call it a day. Get home safely.”

While the rest of the crew says their goodbyes and leaves the set, the devilish trio looks in your direction. They smirk and whistle as you stalk toward them.

“What was that?” You throw your hands up, and huff. “Why did you fuck the scenes up on purpose?”

“Well, tomorrow is Halloween, and we are in the mood to play,” Jeffrey dips his head to look you up and down. He smirks, revealing pearl-white teeth.

The trio crowds you like a pack of wolves. You gasp as Jensen wraps his arms around you from behind to whisper in your ear. “We’ve got a proposal for you, sweetheart.”

“What Jensen tries to tell you is, that we fucked up the scenes on purpose,” Jared smirks darkly. He cups your face with his large hands, causing a whimper to escape your throat.

“Why?”

“Daddy wants to play, doll,” Jeffrey purrs. “If you let us play with you, we are going to be so good for you next time. Say yes and be ours for tonight.”

“You try to extort me into fucking you?” You chuckle darkly. “Christ, are your balls blue or something? I thought you could get laid any time of the day.”

“We could have any woman but you. And we want you,” Jensen whispers in your ear. “Give in and let us have control over your body and mind tonight.”

You press your thighs together, wiggling in Jensen’s embrace. “I can’t fuck a member of my cast.”

“Not one,” Jeffrey tuts. “You’ll bend over the hood of the Impala and let us all have a ride. You are going to be our whore tonight. We all know that you act so innocently all the time, but in secret you want to get this pussy pounded and called our slut.

“I-“ you swallow thickly. “I’m not…no…I…”

“I want to cream this cunt, and make it sing for me,” Jared pats your head. “I bet you’d look good with all of your holes ruined, cum leaking out of your broken body.”

Fuck, Jared always acts so innocently and sweet but right now, he looks at you as if you are his latest meal. “What Jared tries to tell you is, that he’s got a boner he wants to shove up your cunt. He wants to cum inside of you and ruin your pussy.”

“We all want to ruin you,” Jeffrey nods at Jared, silently telling him to get out of his way. “Be ours, and we will show you heaven and hell in one night.”

“My safe word is pumpkin,” you batt your eyelashes, acting innocently. “Maybe daddy can show me a good time while his boys watch.” You challenge. “Can his dick keep up with his potty mouth?”

After you agreed to let the trio have their way with you, they did a great job securing your body to a breeding bench at Jeff’s sex dungeon.

“How is that, huh? We built this nice room only for you.”

“What?” you whimper involuntarily. “I don’t understand.”

“You’re always a hardass, and try to order us around,” Jeff stands behind you, hands groping your ass. He spreads your cheeks, humming. “We will ruin all of your holes and make you our whore.”

“And after we are done with you, you’ll agree to be ours forever,” Jensen steps in front of you. He looks at your parted lips, smirking darkly. “Yeah, I dreamed of watching you choke on my cock while Jeff fucks you into submission.”

“Oh…God…” you whimper. “You planned all of this? For how long?”

“Months, doll. We dreamed of getting our hands on your ripe body. I can’t wait to be inside of your cunt.”

“Come on, get started. I want to watch you both ruin her holes. I will record every second, and then, you will film us,” Jared stands next to Jensen. He cups your face and forces you to look at him. “I want you to scream for us, sweetheart. If you do, I’ll cum all over you.”

“Jared loves to watch, doll. He always cums so hard after we ruined a whore,” Jeffrey grips your hips, driving balls deep into your dripping cunt. “That’s a whore’s cunt.” He exclaims feeling you clench tightly around him.

You moan loudly as he spreads your walls out. The sudden and hard penetration makes you whine. “Relax, whore. We will loosen your holes,” Jeffrey laughs devilishly as you helplessly struggle against the restraints holding you bound to the breeding bench. “What’s your color?”

“I-green,” you breathe out. Jeffrey took you by surprise, but damn his cock feels so good inside of your cunt. “Please fuck me.”

Jeffrey doesn’t need to hear more. He starts to pound into you, filling the room with the sound of flash clapping against flesh. “Fuck, she’s tight and warm. A dream.”

“You better take a deep breath,” Jensen grins darkly. “I’ll fill that throat now, sweetheart. Open up and welcome my dick in your mouth.”

“How can I?” You squeak with every deep thrust. “Please…I…”

“Blink twice to make me slow down, and thrice to make me stop,” Jensen runs his hand over your head. “Be good and open up. I’ll take good care of you.”

“Fuck, Jeff,” you groan loudly as he grips your hips tighter. He slams his hips into your ass, having the time of his life. Jeff hammers into you, causing you to shamelessly moan.

“Hurry up, Jensen. I want to cream this cunt. Stop talking and shove your cock down her throat.” Jeffrey angrily grunts.

“Shut up, old man,” Jensen grips your chin. He runs his thumb over your lips, smirking cockily. “Open up for me. Let’s show them how good you can suck cock.”

Jensen unzips his pants, exposing his throbbing length to you. He’s as perfect as you imagined, and you lick your lips. “Open up for Jensen!” Jared taunts. “Now!”

You part your lips, and stick your tongue out, moaning loudly as Jensen pushes the tip of his cock in. “I want you to suck me like the whore you are.”

As you start bobbing your head, Jensen gently pats your head. “Good girl, taking our cocks. I love watching you suck cock.”

Jensen smirks as you struggle to take him deeper down your throat. He nods, encouraging you to keep on going while Jeff’s thrusts become frantic. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum in her. YES!”

“Hold onto her cunt! I want to see her cunt filled with Jeff’s cum,” Jensen starts moving his hips. He cups the back of your head to control your movement. “Fuck, use your tongue, sweetheart.”

“Shit, you should see her cunt all spread out by Jeff’s cock,” Jared groans. He zooms in to record your spread-out pussy getting stuffed with Jeff’s length. “Fuck…yes…ruin her cunt.”

“I’m gonna…shit…yes…” Jeff shoots his load into your abused cunt. He immediately pulls out and steps away to let Jared film your still pulsing pussy. “Shit, that’s a sight for sore eyes.”

Jeff switches places with Jared. He grabs the camera to film Jensen using your mouth.

“Harder, make her jaw hurt.”

“Shut up. I need to watch her eyes,” Jensen struggles to hold back. All he wants is to ruin your throat, and cum in your mouth. 

You blend the others out and focus on bobbing your head up and down Jensen’s cock. He twitches in your mouth, and you smirk around him. Men are so easy. If you want to hold power over them, give them a cunt to fuck and they are putty in your hands.

Spit and pre-cum run down your chin, tainting your skin as you choke around Jensen.

“SHIT!” Jensen growls loudly. He presses your head into his crotch, holding you there as he shoots his cum down your throat. “She’s perfect. Fuck…”

“My turn,” Jared grips his cock, thumb brushing over the head. “I can’t decide if I want to stretch her ass out or her pussy.”

“Breed that cunt,” Jeff orders. “Come on, boy. Be a man and fuck her cunt. We can share her ass later.”

“Fuck, yes.”

You feel another cock push inside your quivering cunt. Jared doesn’t waste time. Watching you get fucked was nice, but he wants to conquer your holes too.

Jeff and Jensen cheer Jared on, joining the sound of Jared’s flesh slapping against yours. Unlike Jeff, the younger man doesn’t hold back. He thrusts in and out of your already dripping cunt, making you gasp with every powerful thrust.

Jared is on the edge. He’s so close to cumming that he rams into you without restraint. You whimper but don’t tell him to stop. “Would you look at this perfect slut taking Jared’s cock. I knew she was the one.”

“Fuck, she’s going to cum,” Jared grunts as he spills into you. “So…fucking…good…”

“Do you think she learned her lesson?” Jensen watches you sleep soundly on the soft bed. “What now? She wanted us to get fired more than once.”

“Well, if we cannot be the star of the renewed Supernatural season, she will be the newest porn star on social media. I bet everyone wants to see her holes all stretched out…” Jeffrey grins darkly. “If she’s a good girl, she can be our whore by night.”

#jensen ackles #jared padalecki #jeffrey dean morgan #rpf #smut #moresome #spn #Taped on video - Kinktober 30 #kinktober vs flufftober 2023 #supernatural rpf #tw: daddy kink #tw: dubcon

[dimepdf]

★  𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒. + 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐎𝐍

masterlist. / taglist. / any request? synopsis. when you tease Jack just a little bit too much before the Scream VI movie premiere, making it difficult for him to stay grounded in the theater, especially with your lingering hands.

─── ☆ notes. hopping on the Jack Champion train even though I hated his character Ethan Landry lmao, but @evethestargirl’s work has raised me from the dead. I think I scrolled through their entire x reader tag AND YOU SHOULD TOO! | — feedback is always welcomed & don't forget to reblog 🤍

─── ☆ genre and warnings. +18 nsfw under the cut. minors dni | actor!reader | needy!jack | porn with barely any plot | established relationship | making out | movie theater sex | public sex | exhibitionism | grinding | overstimulation | handjob | i hated the new scream movie lmao

It had been the Scream VI movie screening, the room packed with casting crew and lucky chosen fans littered throughout the Los Angeles movie theater, the movie you had starred in alongside your boyfriend Jack. 

Having the privilege to cram in the front once the lights had dimmed, the very touchy and needy Jack could keep his hands off of you, your armrest folded up so his arm could drape comfortably over your shoulder and hold you close. 

"Try not to get too handsy in front of our coworkers, honey." You whisper into his ear, watching him squirm in his seat in your peripheral vision.

He was a great actor, amazing even for being able to cover up the massive fact that he was close to breaking a sweat in his tight black and red suit from how worked up he was from having to interrupt the very heated makeout season you had teased him with the minute you had to leave.

It had been like modern day torture having to stride through a crowd of fans and familiar faces, taking pictures, and signing autographs at the entrance as if he wasn’t sporting a massive boner. 

Jack prayed to whoever was watching above that he wouldn't see his name trending on Twitter with the discourse of his massive bulge being the main topic for the night. "I know, I know," he shuddered, curling closer into your side.

There was no point in paying attention to the trailers that lit up the massive screen when a much more entertaining performance was being shown right beside you.

You caught Jack nervously covering his erection with the large bucket of popcorn he had bought to cover up the fact that he was trying to relieve some of his tension with the pick up of his breathing and his lashes fluttering, his eyes struggling to focus on what was being shown on screen.

"Are you doing okay over there?" You asked, watching as his eyebrows frowned and his lips pressed together. Once his alluring, blown dark pupils met yours, the environment around you two had shifted into something dangerous.

He didn't even have to answer you, already telling you from the clear of his throat and his slight panting that the bucket of popcorn was his greatest enemy, pressing almost too perfectly against his dick. 

"I’m fine." was all that he could manage through his uncombable fake gummy smile that had fallen quite quickly after his words had departed, seeking out outside comfort with his other hand moving to the plush of your thigh and giving you a knowing squeeze. 

"You sure?" You were teasing him again, smirking at the bob of his Adam's apple as your breath fanned against the sole of his ear.

Speaking in a lower tone than necessary, it was clear what side of the battle you were on, and it certainly was not his.

Unleashing your most hard hitting attack with the slight grope of your hand on his thigh, replacing the weight from the popcorn with your own fingers, to any curious lurking eyes, it would have looked like you had been resting in the bucket. 

It was all a front that allowed your fingers to go under the front buttons of his pants. Jack let out a long exhale through his nose with his neck slumped back at the small moment of mercy.

The hiss from your palm grabbing him straightforward by the hilt was covered up by a fake slight cough, his hand covering his mouth now to cover the small noises that threatened to slip from his lips as your touch did nothing but make him tenser as his muscles clenched over this suddenly entrapped feeling fabric of his fancy clothes. 

You weren't as helpful as he’d thought you would be, the sloppy work of your wrist stroking him and loose hold around his length had him taking matters into his own hands.

Jack reached down and wrapped his hand over yours, guiding your continued strokes up and down to hold him just tight enough to make him work up enough to start pathetically trembling around your fingertips.

The fiction was starting to become deadly, and the much needed handjob seemed to be making him more worked up, knowing what a risky place he had chosen to have his dick out. Only the popcorn bucket in his lap rustling covered the lewd, slick sound of your hands picking up pace.

His breathing became more labored, and his body heat was starting to turn him into a personal heater as he struggled to muffle his reactions with every grace of his sensitive veins that you would purposely make pulse with a gentle brush or squeeze, sending shivering white sparks of pleasure to surge through his worked nerves. 

You heard Jack release with a shaking, trembling breath, his panting slowly subsiding as the warmth of his mess coated your hand, and you had not let go of your pace, drawing a genuine, sensitive gasping reaction from him as you continued to push him over the peak he had already dropped from.

"One more for good luck?" You smirked, finding your own enjoyment in watching your boyfriend struggle to keep his score, knowing that he would have to struggle for the rest of the entire movie with you teasing him.

tap here to be added to taglist.

#[ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ ★ — t.wrks. ] #jack champion #jack champion x reader #avatar the way of water #avatar neteyam #avatar #scream 6 #scream 6 smut #scream

[psychedelic-ink]

𝑨𝑳𝑳 𝑶𝑼𝑹 𝑪𝑨𝑵𝑫𝑳𝑬𝑺 𝑨𝑹𝑬 𝑩𝑼𝑹𝑵𝑬𝑫 𝑶𝑼𝑻

pairing: dieter bravo x stunt coordinator f!reader x frankie morales

genre: romance, smut, minors dni

word count: 4.6k (this kinda got out of hand whoops)

summary: dieter needs helicopter lessons for an upcoming role and santiago finds you the perfect man for the job.

warnings: established relationship between dieter and reader, threesome, a very messy blowjob, edging, teasing, mlm dynamics, vaginal/anal fingering, piv, creampie, single dad!frankie, competency kink

a/n: A birthday gift to the most amazing @jazzelsaur 💖 I love and appreciate you so so much. I'm glad tumblr brought us together, thank you so much for always being such a light and so supportive 💜💜💜

You and Dieter make your way through set, the sun shining down on your skin as you navigate the crowded fake streets. The set is alive with activity, the air thick with the sounds of chatter and whirring machinery.

As you walk, you take in the sights around you, the hustle and bustle of the extras and crew members going about their work. A group of extras huddled together, deep in conversation, their faces etched with concentration while discussing their lines. 

Meanwhile, a camera crew scurries past, their equipment whirring and beeping as they move. The director is shouting instructions and the actors are preparing for the next take. Props litter the streets, adding to the illusion of a bustling city. The attention to detail is impressive, and it's clear that the production team has put a lot of effort into creating a believable and authentic world.

Everyone is working together to bring the story to life, and you thrive on the chaos, feeling at peace and at home. What seems like a disorganized mess is actually in order, everything is as it should be.

You’re startled from your thoughts when Dieter’s hand finds yours, slowing you down so your steps would fall into synch. Warmth spreads from your tailbone. You still aren’t used to the PDA even though it’s been a year since you two had started to date. It wasn’t easy at the time, you being the stunt coordinator and Dieter being an actor, it was difficult but in the end, there was little you could do when you kept on pining him to the ground while trying to teach him how to do it. 

He squeezes your hand tight, lips brushing your ear. “So who were we meeting again?” 

“The helicopter instructor, I think his name is…Frankie something? I talked to him once on the phone but he has great references,” 

“And what references might those be?” 

The two of you stop when the prop department carrying a huge mirror walks past you. You take this opportunity to squeeze Dieter’s hand and pull his gaze back to you, it’s rare to see him so openly nervous— usually, he just bottles it all up, which makes you happy that he trusts you enough to show this side of himself. 

“Santiago,” you grin when Dieter rolls his eyes. “Come on, I know you like him. Everyone likes Santi,” 

“I didn’t say I hated him,” he tugs you along, the mirror finally gone. “It’s just sometimes the people he finds for you can be a bit…intense?” 

“Look I’m sure it’ll be fine,” you say dismissing him with a wave of a hand. “Besides, you’re just supposed to learn how to fly it a little bit. Just so you look like you know what you’re doing in front of the control pad.” 

“Yeah I guess,” he suddenly perks up, smiling from ear to ear. “And helicopters are the shit. It’ll be fun to learn how to fly one,” 

“Well…you wouldn’t really be learning how to fly it more like keeping it in the air and learning what all the buttons do kinda stuff.” 

“I love you but why do you always have to take away my fun?” 

You ignore the heat creeping up your cheeks from the spontaneous declaration of love. He does that a lot. Just blurting stuff when you least expected it. The helicopter slowly comes into view, stationed a bit further from the main set. You see a man with a ballcap rounding the helicopter and going inside. 

“If I didn’t, you would probably be dead.” 

“Fair point.” 

Dieter's hand tightens in yours, both of you looking up at the helicopter. It’s rather large, larger than you initially expected. There must’ve been some extra money laying around if the production managed to score such a fancy-looking vehicle.

"It's even more impressive in person," Dieter says, his eyes wide.

"I know, right?" you respond, feeling a flutter in your stomach at the thought of flying in it. "Are you ready to become a helicopter pilot?"

Dieter grins, "I'm ready to pretend to be a helicopter pilot, at least."

Peering inside, you find yourself looking into a surprisingly spacious cabin. The seats are made of smooth, black leather, and the walls are lined with various buttons and controls. You can see a large display screen at the front of the cockpit, displaying flight information and navigation data. The dim lighting gives the space a sense of intimacy and allows you to see the details of the instruments and controls.

Then your eyes move towards the man sitting at the controls, his feet kicked up on the dashboard. He jumps up when he notices you. 

"Hi there," he greets you. There’s a scratchiness to his voice that makes you suspect he was sleeping before your arrival. “I’m assuming you’re the stunt coordinator Pope told me about?” 

“That’s me,” you grin and take a large step inside. “Frankie, right?” Frankie squeezes your hand and nods. He turns his soft gaze to Dieter. 

“And you must be the famous Mr. Bravo—” 

“Dieter’s fine,” he quickly interjects, squeezing Frankie’s hand as well. You raise an eyebrow, noticing the way Dieter averts his eyes, a rosy glow peppered across his cheeks. 

As Dieter takes a seat in the front, you place a hand on his stomach and stop him mid-step, a smug grin directed at him.

“And here I thought you didn’t like Santi’s friends,” you whisper with a hint of amusement. For a moment he struggles to understand what you mean, then he swipes his tongue over his bottom lip.

“It’s not my fault he’s hot,”

“Should I be jealous?” you tease, and he leans in, pressing his lips to your forehead. 

“Never,” he says moving away and taking his heat with him.  

Honestly, you can’t really blame him. Frankie’s wearing a loose tee and a green flannel, probably two sizes too large. But after years of working with bodies that came in every shape and form, you can tell he has a firm one underneath. You and Dieter aren’t strangers to inviting people you enjoyed the company of into your bed, it was rare, given Dieter’s fame. But it did happen. 

And it already looks like Dieter had taken quite a liking to the handsome pilot. 

"So, first things first," Frankie begins when Dieter settles. "This is the altimeter, it tells us our altitude. And this is the airspeed indicator, it tells us how fast we're going. And this is the attitude indicator, it shows us the helicopter's pitch and roll."

Dieter nods, trying to take it all in. "Got it, altitude, airspeed, attitude."

"Exactly. You’re a fast learner I’m impressed," Frankie grins, patting him on the back. "Now, let's get this bird in the air."

It’s a smooth lift. You barely felt it. 

Frankie begins teaching Dieter how to fly the helicopter, you listen in, taking note of the instructions and procedures. Much to your surprise, Dieter actually asks some questions, which you notice helps Frankie ease into the role of a teacher. 

After a while Frankie allows Dieter to take the controls. You look outside, swallowing when you notice that the three of you are actually quite high up. Briefly, Frankie’s gaze lingers over yours. They quickly scan over your face, a subtle and barely there look. He must’ve seen your worry because he smiles. Parting his lips, he mouths slowly; don’t worry.

You’re pretty sure your heart stops then. 

Dieter becomes increasingly tense. You can see the tension in his shoulders, the way his grip on the controls becomes tighter, making his knuckles turn white. Frankie notices and places his hands on top of Dieter's, guiding him through the maneuvers.

"Relax," Frankie mutters, gaze fixated ahead. Clearly oblivious to Dieter’s not-so-innocent thoughts. "You're doing great. Let her fly."

The touch is electric, and Dieter's pulse quickens, his heart beating like a drum in his chest. His face flushes a shade darker, and you hear the way his breath hitches in his throat. Frankie's touch is confident and sure, Dieter relaxes under his guidance, letting himself be led.

"You see," Frankie says. "You were made for this."

Frankie's hands are steady, and as they move over Dieter's, you can see the way Dieter's fingers loosen on the controls. He starts to breathe more easily. Frankie's touch is soothing him like it would a stray animal. Dieter’s shoulders drop and the lines of tension on his face smooth out.

“That’s it, bring us home movie star.” 

You bite back a giggle hearing Dieter’s small whimper. But despite it all, he does manage to lower the helicopter without a problem. Dieter’s head falls back with a loud exhale when it’s done. “Fuuuuck— that was stressful.” 

“Good job movie star,” you grin, knowing that repeating Frankie’s words would frustrate him. “You managed not to kill us, that’s a plus.” 

“He did great,” Frankie nods. “We should go again.” 

Dieter makes a sound and both you and Frankie turn to look at him. An understanding smile tugs at Frankie’s lips and he tilts his head towards the door. “Maybe after a ten minute break?” 

Frankie is sweating due to a multitude of reasons. 

He’s invited to dinner, which would mark the first reason. When Dieter offered to buy him a drink as a thank you, he didn’t think much of it. And he would never say no to a cold one after a day of teaching. But then you suggested that Frankie should come over instead and that you would cook him something instead. 

He was confused. At first, he thought you two were dating. Then after noticing some lustful gazes from both sides, directed at yours truly, he thought maybe you weren’t. 

However, now it seems like you two are indeed an item and living together. 

The entire thing was a huge clusterfuck and he’d gotten very close to calling Pope to ask what their situation was but decided against it. He didn’t need Santiago calling him rusty. 

The second reason why he was sweating is due to the fact that tonight was ridiculously hot. Screw LA. Honestly. 

He’s wearing a light red button-up shirt, which he’s now realizing might’ve been a mistake. At the time wearing one of his signature worn-down T-shirts didn’t seem like a good choice. 

Frankie stops and looks around. There’s a series of fancy-looking houses stringed back to back. He’s assuming one of them is Dieter’s. With a sigh, he looks down at his phone and up again. Narrowing his eyes, he heads for the house that has a series of colorful porcelain animals scattered around the garden. The text you sent him said to look for the Zebra. 

And lo behold there it is. 

Standing in front of the door, Frankie goes to adjust his cap but his fingertips brush against his slicked-back hair instead. 

That’s right he left it at home. If this get-together isn’t what he thinks it is…this whole night is about to get a whole lot more embarrassing. 

Letting out a deep exhale, he holds his breath in his lungs and pulls down the ends of his shirt. While he exhales, he finally knocks. 

It’s you who opens the door. Your smile is bright, confident, and not at all what his insides are mirroring. Stepping aside, you invite him in. 

“Welcome,” you say with a grin. “Hope you found it easily?” 

“Yeah, it was…” 

Fine, is what he was going to say before he trailed off. He lifts his head and sniffs the air. 

Was that smoke? 

You’re closing the door when he shoots you a puzzled look, “Is everything alright?” 

The question makes your smile falter. Your eyes peer above his shoulder towards, what he assumes, the kitchen. His gaze follows yours, he sees the faint trailings of gray smoke. 

“Okay full disclosure we might’ve accidentally burnt everything,” you speak in quick breaths. Frankie’s brows furrowed, he didn’t want to be the cause of any trouble. “We managed to salvage the salad but that’s pretty much it—sorry,” 

You look genuinely troubled. Frankie feels that he should place a hand on your shoulder, and he does. You’re quick to relax into his touch and he smiles. “It’s alright. I’m somewhat of a decent cook, I’m sure we can put together something,” 

As Frankie enters the kitchen, he's met with the sight of Dieter cursing and throwing burnt pans into the sink. The smell of smoke fills the air. He's seen his fair share of kitchen disasters, he's not one to shy away from a little bit of chaos. You clear your throat, drawing Dieter’s attention away from the mess. 

The actor stills for a moment. His eyes flit between you, Frankie, and lastly the sink full of charcoal dark pans. He swallows, hard. “Welcome?” he croaks, unsure. “Sorry about the…mess. We tried our best I promise,” 

“I believe you,” Frankie smiles, stepping inside. You follow. “You two shouldn’t have gotten into so much trouble for me. I would’ve been just as happy with sharing a drink,” 

He doesn’t miss the way you two exchange a brief glance. You scratch the back of your head, the tip of your shoe hitting the floor. “We thought cooking would be more meaningful as thanks—Well, I did at least.”

“You guys got pasta?” Frankie asks, eyes falling to the pans. “What were you guys trying to cook anyway?” 

Silence follows and Frankie turns to look at you both. He raises an eyebrow, coking his head to the side. Giving them a look he learned that could be quite persuasive. 

“Don’t be mad,” Dieter mutters, eyes moving from Frankie to you. His gaze turns with Dieter’s, now firmly fixated on you for answers. 

“I…I might or might not have called Santi to ask for your favorite meal,” you answer, averting your eyes.

Frankie’s eyes widen at that. His pulse skyrockets, deafening to his own ears. Once again forgetting he left his hat at home, he looks down to hide his smile. 

He’d find himself some interesting people it seems. 

You sit at the table with Dieter’s knee pressing against yours. You’re both admiring Frankie as he effortlessly moves about the kitchen. He has his sleeves folded up, revealing his strong and tanned forearms, and he’s wearing the apron Dieter had bought as a joke that reads "Kiss the Cook." The pasta water boils at the stove while he makes marinara sauce from scratch, and the aroma is tantalizing.

You watch him chop the tomatoes and garlic. He has his tongue sneaking out of his lips while he concentrates. It's a small detail but it makes him look even more charming. Dieter’s hand finds the soft flesh of your thighs, squeezing slowly. A shiver settles at the base of your spine.

You take a sip of your red wine, savoring the rich flavor, watching Frankie work. He moves with a certain grace and precision, like a master chef, his movements are fluid and natural.

“You cook a lot Frankie?” you ask, breaking the—what you had dubbed— the horny silence. 

Dieter’s fingertips round the outline of your knee. A bit of wine slips from the corner of your lips. 

“I wouldn’t say a lot,” Frankie muses, pouring a generous amount of olive oil into a pan. “I rarely cook for myself but I like cooking for my daughter,” 

“You have a daughter?” Dieter asks, his movements stilling. Your stomach drops, did you read this whole thing wrong after all? 

Frankie nods, a smile tugging at his lips. The oil heats up, he turns to you both, placing the heels of his palms against the kitchen counter behind him. “I do, that’s why I moved here. To be closer to her.” 

“Divorced—” You pinch Dieter from underneath the table. “Ow!”

Dieter turns to you with a puzzled look— a look that is telling you he has no idea what he’d done wrong. 

Frankie catches your gaze and smiles. You feel a flutter in your stomach. “It’s okay really. I’m used to it by now,” his gaze shifts back to Dieter. “Yeah, I’m divorced. But there isn’t really an interesting story to go along with it, we just…sorta drifted apart,” 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” you reply with the urge to touch him somehow. Instead, you curl your fingers around Dieter’s hand which still lingers on your knee. 

Frankie shakes his head and turns back to the sauce, adding the herbs and spices with a practiced hand. There's nothing sexier than a man who can cook— which probably isn’t an appropriate thought to have. 

“What about you two?” Frankie suddenly asks, reeling you back to reality.“You two are…dating, right?”

You realize that you and Dieter probably had confused the hell out of this man. You part your lips to speak but surprisingly Dieter beats you to it. 

“We are,” he states, twirling his wine glass. “But we’re always looking for some kind of trouble to get in,” 

Your skin erupts in goosebumps at Dieter’s tone. It’s low, a soft gravel hidden behind it. You know that tone well, a tone that had made you come multiple times in a mere half an hour. You shudder. 

Frankie’s ears perk up, shoulders rising and falling. You can’t see it, but you’re almost positive that he’s smiling. “Is that what I am?” he purrs, his voice also dropping. “Trouble?” 

Dieter smirks into the rim of his wine glass, “Only if you want to be.” 

The rest of the night goes on without a hitch. It’s a combination of talking about your jobs, your pasts, and the occasional flirty remarks. You enjoy watching Frankie speak. 

The initial stress that was locked in his muscles had dissipated with each forkful of pasta disappearing between his lips. The three of you continue to sit even when the pasta is completely gone, not even a lick of sauce staining the plates. 

Neither of you wants to disturb the moment. You find yourself scooching closer to Frankie. Dieter does the same. And when Frankie places a tender hand on Dieter’s waist, you put your hand on his thigh, squeezing it. 

You faintly hear Dieter murmuring something about heading to the bedroom, which Frankie doesn’t seem to have any objections to. Standing, you’re quick to realize that the wine had given you a familiar warm buzz. Before you take a step, Frankie’s arm sneaks around your waist. Solid and warm. You both follow Dieter to the bedroom. 

You and Dieter fall to bed with a fit of giggles, his lips trailing over your jaw. The journey ends ar your lips. The tip of his tongue slips out and licks the seam, sloppy hands moving over your body, squeezing and kneading the flesh. With a sudden jolt of pleasure, you moan into his mouth, rolling your hips into the air. 

Dieter dips to your neck, nipping the soft skin. Your head falls back and eyes open, your gaze meeting Frankie’s. He’s standing awkwardly at the edge of the bed, his hands balled into weak-looking fists. Your eyebrows knit together, your eyes drop to his front. 

Your mouth turns up in a subtle smile when you notice the thick outline of his cock. 

You pull at Dieter’s hair and gesture toward Frankie with the tip of your head. Dieter’s grin is devilish, brown eyes eating the other man alive. 

“Didn’t peg you to be shy,” he teases, pushing himself away from you. “But I guess we haven’t been the most hospital either.” 

You follow Dieter’s lead and get up with him, both of you taking quick steps toward Frankie. Dieter kneels down and starts to unbutton the pilot's pants while you curl your fingers around his neck and knead away the rigidness of his muscles. 

Frankie’s lips part with a soft gasp, hips thrusting forward. You shudder at the feeling of his hands finding your hips, pulling you closer, he presses his lips into yours. His tongue follows the same path as Dieter’s, licking the seam and slipping his tongue between your lips. 

But the rest is very unlike Dieter. He swallows the sounds that threaten to spill, licking into your mouth eagerly. The roughness of his mouth is unexpected but not unpleasant, you find your body quivering as the ache between your legs grows. 

It doesn’t last long, however. Frankie breaks the kiss with a sound between a groan and a hiss. His nails bite into your skin, body shaking. Looking down, you see that Dieter has his lips wrapped around the fat head of Frankie’s cock. Fingers curling around the base, Dieter starts to stroke him while he pushes himself forward and swallows him halfway. 

You drop to your knees, feeling the heat coming off Dieter in waves. His eyes are closed, his lips parted and glistening as he rhythmically strokes and sucks on Frankie's cock. You can't help but be mesmerized by the sight, and you can feel the ache between your legs become unbearable.

Frankie's moans fill the air, echoing off the walls as he throws his head back, his hips thrusting forward in time with the motions of Dieter's lips. Frankie’s fingers thread through his hair, tugging him closer. You can see his muscles go taut with every thrust.

Dieter’s lips part even more around Frankie, and you can feel the vibrations of his moans on your fingertips, brushing them over his spine. Dieter jerks at your touch, another moan ripping from his throat. His eyes find yours and he parts from Frankie’s cock, a string of saliva follows. He slides his lips down the lenght of him, allowing you to drag your tongue across the other side.

Frankie quivers and shakes. His fingers dig into your scalp and his cock swells and twitches. His eyes roll back in his head as Dieter expertly takes control. His tongue swirls around the sensitive head, and you feel the vibrations of his moans against your lips as he presses them harder against him.

You slide your hands up Frankie’s chest, the warmth and sweat of his skin gathering at your fingertips. Dieter slides further down his shaft and you dip your tongue into the slit, twirling it and swallowing him down. 

Frankie makes the mistake of looking down—Seeing you both licking at him eagerly makes something twists in his stomach. The skin there grows taut, thighs clenching as his orgasm shatters through him. He struggles to remain upright.

Before you know it your lips are replaced with Dieter’s. 

Dieter slides his hands around Frankie's back, pushing him forward as he takes him in deeper. Frankie's moans become louder, and his body trembles. His hips thrust forward as comes, and Dieter wraps his arms around him in a tight embrace as he releases the warm liquid over both of your lips. 

Frankie collapses against Dieter, panting and chest heaving. You slide your hands to his back, rubbing soothing circles as Dieter kisses his way up his stomach. 

Frankie's breathing gradually returns to normal. You take this opportunity to reach out and touch Dieter's face, feeling his soft skin beneath your fingertips. He leans into your touch.  

Your lips meet in a passionate kiss. His lips are soft, wet, and inviting. His tongue eagerly meets yours as you both explore each other's mouths, the taste of Frankie joining. 

“Wow,” Frankie says first, his chest stuttering. “That was…wow,” 

Dieter grins into your lips and your eyes move back up to meet Frankie’s. He’s stroking his cock, palm swiping at the head. You see a hint of something dark and hungry crossing his face. 

Your heart skips a beat, suddenly you’re very aware of how wet and sticky your thighs feel. 

“I want to see you two together,” he groans, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. “Want you guys to play and tease without letting the other come.” 

Dieter blinks in surprise. He finally parts away from you and allows his eyes to move over to Frankie. You notice the way his gaze becomes glazed over, breath catching in his throat upon seeing Frankie’s expression.

“Yeah okay,” he swallows. “We can do that—” he playfully pinches your side. “Can’t we sweetheart?” 

You smile, fingers finding the curve of his knee, you squeeze. “We most certainly can.”

Frankie sits at the end of the bed. Meanwhile, you and Dieter become a mixed tangle of limbs. You feel the slip of his fingers into your heat, curling his fingers. You burn from the inside out. 

His other hand finds your hip, fingers digging in as he moves inside you. You gasp, eyes shifting to Frankie who is standing at the end of the bed, watching you.

Frankie’s breathing heavily as he strokes himself in time with Dieter’s movements. You feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge and Dieter must be able to tell because he starts to pick up the pace, pushing you even closer. Dieter grins and you moan, eyes fluttering closed as the pleasure washes over you.

Frankie’s voice breaks through the haze of pleasure. “Don’t come yet,” he commands, voice low. “Let me see you both together.”

Dieter groans, his fingers tightening on your hips. His breath is coming in short, ragged gasps and you can feel his body trembling with need. You both reach for each other, Dieter’s fingers finding your clit and you moan as he teases it, drawing quick, short circles. 

When he draws back his fingers, you cry out, hips jerking toward him with the need to be stretched and filled.

You’re about to protest but the words quickly die on your tongue. Dieter drags his cock between your folds, gathering as much as slick he can before slipping inside. The sigh you let out is full of bliss. Your eyes flutter, the sight of Frankie now blurred around the edges.  

Your orgasm nears with each thrust. Your body alive with lust, pulses of heat radiating from your core. Your moans get louder, and your back arches, pushing your hips towards Dieter’s. He grunts, and you can feel his muscles tense as he drives deeper and deeper in you.

Your hands reach out to Frankie, seeking his touch. He takes them in his, and begins to stroke your skin. His touch is gentle, crackling electricity against your already burning skin. His hands move slowly, tracing every inch his fingertips can reach.

Your vision is blurred, and the room seems to spin. Dieter’s thrusts become more urgent. His breathing is ragged. You’re teetering on the edge of your orgasm, so close yet so far. 

Frankie moves behind Dieter, his hands finding Dieter’s hips as he kneels behind him. Dieter’s movements slow, another moan rippling through his chest. Frankie circles the tight muscle with wet fingers. He slips two inside, taking Dieter’s breath away. 

“Already so wet,” Frankie coos, lips touching his ear. “Were you already expecting this?” 

Dieter groans, pushing back into Frankie as he thrusts into you. You gasp, pleasure coursing through your veins and all you can do is hold on tight as you both move together.

Dieter lets out a deep moan, the slam of his hips erratic.  His body goes rigid, cock twitching uncontrollably with your cunt clenching around him over and over. 

Frankie’s voice is hoarse, his words barely audible. “Come now,” he whispers and Dieter follows his command, his body shuddering as he comes. You cry out, your orgasm crashing over you like a wave. You cling to Dieter, Frankie’s breath comingling with yours in the room.

You push yourself up to press a kiss into Dieter’s neck, at the same time Frankie pulls out his fingers, giving the actor’s hips a reassuring squeeze. 

None of you rush to clean, figuring you can do that together in the morning. Dieter pulls you to the middle, Frankie taking his place next to you and hugging you both. You feel the brush of Frankie’s lips first, then Dieter’s. Your eyelids grow heavy like lead.

“We should do this again,” Dieter murmurs, sounding equally as exhausted as you. 

Frankie nods, forehead touching yours. You smile. 

“We should,” he whispers. “We really should.” 

#frankie morales x you #frankie morales x f!reader #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #frankie morales x reader x dieter bravo #frankie morales #dieter bravo x female reader #dieter bravo #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #triple frontier fic #the bubble fic

[mvltiwritez1]

Breathe - Angela Giarratana x Fem!Reader

Requested by: @loverluzer - ‘A love confession with Angela but reader has really bad anxiety so it's kind more like a bunch of word vomit’

WARNING(S): little mentions of throwing up (in a jokey way), really mild swearing

I’m still taking requests! Just Dm me if you want one fulfilled! - August

————————————————————————

"You should tell her Y/n" Arasha said to her friend, taking a bite of her lunch after. Y/n sighed and pulled her gaze away from Angela talking to Amanda reluctantly.

"What if she doesn't like me back? It would be so embarrassing, especially since we're co-workers" Y/n explained, picking at her own lunch, losing her appetite due to nerves.

"If she doesn't then it's in the past, no hard feelings and certainly no awkward situations. You know Angela, she's very outgoing and understanding." Arasha replied, keeping her tone hushed when she mentioned the Italian's name.

"I know she is but what if she feels like she has to say yes? Or what if we can't act like we're just fine? I know we're actors for a living but sometimes it's hard!" Y/n whined slightly, making sure her voice wasn't as loud as well.

"I understand that sometimes it is but you're going insane dude. You're pulling your hair out over a crush, I'm saying this out of love and care but your mental health could really benefit from you just saying it flat out." Arasha gestured with her hands as she talked as she normally did.

Y/n stayed silent, she knew Arasha was right. Why did she have to be so?! Y/n rubbed at her forehead, pondering a way to tell her.

"It's not like I could just pull her aside for a few and be like 'hey I wanna kiss you'" Y/n said, oversimplifying her feelings. Arasha chuckled.

"Okay maybe you shouldn't lead with that but I'm just saying, maybe tell her off of company time like the weekend since it's Friday? Ask if you can come over or just tell her over text, it's really just about getting it out there" Arasha tried giving her best advice and Y/n nodded, appreciative of whatever guidance that could be provided.

"Now, are we finally done talking about your crush for a while? I don't want my lunch to come back up" Arasha joked lightheartedly and Y/n cracked a smile.

——

Y/n walked onto the games set for a Try Not To Win Mario Party video and sat beside Shayne on the couch, the man doing something on his phone before they started shooting. They acknowledged each other with a small greeting as they got mentally prepared to shoot.

Angela walked in after Y/n and sat right beside her.

"Hey Y/n! This shoot is gonna be so fun" Angela beamed at Y/n, a light rose covering her cheeks. Y/n chuckled along in response before talking back.

"Yeah I agree. I can't wait to beat your ass...by losing" Y/n put up a confident front but in reality, her heart felt like it would burst through her rib cage and onto the clean carpet below them.

"You wish" Angela spoke, her voice getting slightly deeper. No one barely paying attention could notice it but Y/n did and it made her all the more nervous that her hands started sweating. The rest of the cast for the video came in along with the crew at the right time, cutting their conversation short.

——

Y/n finally was able to sit on her own couch in her own apartment. She sighed and let her body relax for a second before having to get up and make something for a meal.

She got up after sitting in the quiet of her apartment for about 5 minutes and made a simple sandwich, her energy was down so she didn't want to stand at the stove for a while.

Her mind wouldn’t shut up about Angela, any conversation they had or any type of physical contact between them replayed in her head like an old movie. It was beginning to be unbearable.

Y/n tried blasting music through her headphones but that just caused the thoughts and daydreams to get worse and for her to get a headache. She even tried sleeping early but couldn’t as her mind kept thinking back to Arasha’s advice.

‘Just tell her’

Y/n couldn’t take it anymore so her body carried her to her running shoes and windbreaker and put them on quickly.

Before Y/n could talk herself out of it, she started running. Down the hallway and stairs of her apartment complex until she reached the outdoors.

It had been raining so the air smelled of Petrichor and clung to her skin as she continued running. Her direction seemingly random.

She heaved and puffed as her legs kept her steady, not stopping for a second.

Finally she found the very place she wanted to go, Angela’s front door. Since they were friends, they both knew each other’s address and had been to each other’s places.

Y/n knocked on the door and ran a hand through her - now wet - locks as she panted. The door opened to reveal Angela, dressed in a loose t-shirt, sweatpants, socks, and her glasses with her hair tied up.

“Y/n?” Angela asked before looking around for a vehicle of some sort. Y/n felt like she had to say it or else she would puke.

“Listen Ange, I really really like you and I have for months but I’ve been too afraid to tell you because we’re co-workers and I don’t wanna make things awkward at all but I’m done hiding my feelings from you because I’m afraid that if I do I’ll explode and if you’re uncomfortable I’ll drop it but I can’t handle hiding it anymore I like you a lot and—“ Y/n’s tired ramblings we’re cut off by Angela’s hands on either side of her face and her soft lips on Y/n’s.

Y/n’s eyes grew wide but soon closed and her hands moved to Angela’s waist when she realized what was happening. Angela gently pulled away and looked into Y/n’s eyes.

“I was afraid you were gonna turn blue…or yark” Angela said softly. Y/n exhaled, really processing what just happened.

“You…like me too?” Y/n asked, her voice laced with insecurity. Angela chuckled and looked at Y/n astounded.

“Of course, I thought I was being so obvious!” Angela exclaimed and Y/n blushed slightly while smiling, the information finally catching up to her.

“Thank goodness. I thought I fucked everything up” Y/n said and they both chuckled.

“Now come inside, you’ll get sick if you spend another minute out there” Angela pulled Y/n into the apartment and planned to take care of Y/n first and ask a million questions later.

#angela giarratana #angela giarratana x reader #fanfic #angela giarratana x fem reader #oneshot #writing #smosh