#nothing personal against the actor or anything

[ros3mari3]

Problematic Stunt Double

Bucky Barnes x reader

AU : Stunt double ! Bucky x director ! reader.

3rd Person POV.

This is sort of inspired by the movie Fall guy !!

The movie set was buzzing with the usual frenetic energy, a sharp contrast to the atmosphere that had settled into Bucky Barnes's life over the past year. Once, he’d been in the heart of it all, pushing the limits of his body with each death-defying stunt, always striving to make the impossible look effortless. But that was before the accident.

Before everything changed.

A year had passed since the accident. A year since he’d stepped away from the adrenaline rush, the thrill of taking on impossible stunts. Since the moment when his body had betrayed him, leaving him with a broken back and ribs. The injury had been a wake-up call that he wasn’t invincible. And so, he had left the world he knew, cut ties with the people who once called him family, and disappeared into the shadows.

But the world, as it always did, had moved on. And now, after months of introspection, Bucky found himself on a familiar movie set once more, only this time, it wasn’t for a stunt—it was for a comeback.

The call had come unexpectedly, an offer to return to a big-budget action film, and against his better judgment, he had accepted. Maybe it was the desire to feel useful again. Or maybe it was the longing for the adrenaline, that high that had become a part of him. But what he didn’t know was that the director of this new film was someone he hadn’t seen in over a year.

Someone he had left behind.

The set was massive, more extravagant than anything Bucky had worked on before, but there was no mistaking the feeling in his chest as he walked toward the familiar scene. The smell of the stage, the hustle of the crew—it all felt like home. Until he saw her.

Y/N.

She stood on the opposite side of the set, clipboard in hand, directing the actors through the scene with the sharp focus he remembered all too well. She was wearing black cargo pants, a loose top, and her hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail. The sight of her took him by surprise, like a punch to the gut.

Their eyes met for a brief moment, and he could see the flicker of recognition in her gaze, but there was no warmth behind it. No smile. She stood stunned for a moment, before turning back to the crew, as if nothing had happened.

Bucky felt a pang of hurt. He hadn’t expected a warm welcome, but the coldness stung.

The last time they’d seen each other, it had been a bitter goodbye. He had pushed her away, knowing that his world was falling apart and he didn’t want to drag her down with him. He couldn’t bear the thought of her seeing him break.

But now, as he stood here, so close yet so far away, he regretted it.

The first few days on set were nothing short of awkward. Every time Bucky tried to speak to Y/N, she deflected him, her professional mask firmly in place. She didn’t want to talk about the past. She didn’t want to talk about why he left without a word or how he cut off all contact.

Her focus was on getting the stunts right. And Bucky? Well, he was struggling. His body wasn’t what it used to be. Every time he attempted a stunt, he faltered. There were cracks in his confidence that hadn’t been there before, and every failure felt like a personal blow.

"You’re going to need to redo that," Y/N said, her voice steely as she glanced over at him from the director's chair. The words didn’t sting so much as the way she said them, as though she expected nothing less than perfection from him.

Bucky clenched his jaw, fighting the frustration that simmered under his skin. He knew he wasn’t the same, but the way she kept pushing him made him feel like he’d never left.

He stood there, chest heaving, sweat dripping down his face, trying to steady himself. His body was sore, but he wouldn’t admit defeat—not yet.

He nodded sharply, the words caught in his throat. "Again."

The stunts continued like that for days—one attempt after another, with Bucky failing more than succeeding. Each time, Y/N's voice cut through the air like a whip.

"One more time," she said, her eyes hard and unyielding. "That was better, but your timing’s off. Again."

Bucky had been thrown from a car, leaped off a building, and narrowly avoided being hit by a speeding truck all within the span of an hour. And now? Now, he was running through the same damn scene over and over, and it wasn’t getting easier.

"Come on, Bucky!" Y/N yelled from her perch, her arms crossed as she observed. "This is the seventh time!"

Bucky let out a loud groan, standing up slowly, his body stiff with exhaustion. "You’re killing me, Y/N. You know that, right?" he called back, his voice full of dry humor.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, never one to back down. "You wanted to come back. Remember that when you’re crawling out of here in a body cast."

Bucky shot her a look of pure exasperation. "You know, some directors give their actors water and breaks, not... eternal suffering."

Y/N smirked, her eyes sparkling with that same sharp wit he’d missed. "If you wanted a break, you should’ve stayed retired, Barnes."

Nightfall came, and after another grueling day of filming, the crew finally wrapped up for the night. Exhausted and frustrated, Bucky retreated to his hotel room, his mind still reeling from the day’s mistakes.

His body ached, a constant reminder of why he had retired in the first place. He’d been living on borrowed time, and now he was paying for it.

But then, there was a knock on his door.

He opened it to find Y/N standing in the hallway, her arms crossed over her chest, looking as weary as he felt.

"Can we talk?" she asked, her voice low, almost vulnerable.

Bucky didn’t hesitate. He stepped aside, letting her in. The door clicked shut behind her.

She lingered for a moment, unsure of what to say. She hadn’t come here for answers, not really. But she had to understand. She had to know if the man who walked out of her life a year ago was still the same one standing before her now.

Bucky, for his part, wasn’t sure how to begin either. The silence stretched between them, both of them unsure of how to break it, how to fix the cracks that had formed.

Finally, Y/N spoke, her voice softer now. "You’ve been struggling with the stunts. I can tell. I am partially for my actions today, I guess I just wanted you to feel the same pain you left me to deal with, alone." She paused, her gaze meeting his. "You’re not the same as you were before."

Bucky swallowed, his throat dry. "I know. I thought I was ready. But I’m not."

Her eyes softened, a flash of something that resembled sympathy crossing her face. But it was quickly masked by her professional demeanor. "Then why come back? Why put yourself through this?"

Bucky’s jaw tightened. "I didn’t have anything else," he confessed, the words slipping out before he could stop them. "I thought… I thought maybe if I came back, I could prove to myself that I wasn’t broken."

Y/N’s expression faltered. She stepped closer to him, her voice quieter now. "You’re not broken, Bucky. You never were."

His breath caught in his throat. She was so close now, her warmth radiating off of her, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he let himself feel something other than pain.

"I pushed you away," he said, his voice thick with regret. "I didn’t want to drag you down with me, but I didn’t know how to handle it. I couldn’t… I couldn’t let you see me like this."

She reached out, her fingers brushing against his arm. "You don’t have to be perfect. Not for me. Not for anyone."

Bucky looked at her then, really looked at her—the woman he’d loved, the woman he’d left behind. She had every right to hate him, to hold onto the anger and disappointment. But she didn’t. And that was all the answer he needed.

Without another word, he closed the space between them, his lips finding hers in a kiss that was tentative at first, as if they were both testing the waters of their long-lost connection. But then, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, the kiss deepened, the years apart fading into the background, leaving only the raw need to feel each other again.

When they finally pulled away, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting against each other.

"I missed you," Bucky murmured, his voice hoarse, every word soaked with longing. "I missed you so damn much. I… I thought I could handle being without you, but I was wrong. I can’t."

Y/N smiled softly, her hand resting against his chest. "I missed you, too, Bucky," she whispered, her voice just as full of the ache he felt. "But I never stopped believing in you. I never stopped waiting."

And for the first time in a long time, Bucky felt like maybe, just maybe, he was ready to try again. Ready to heal. Ready to be the man he used to be. With her by his side.

[omega-red]

liev schreiber sabretooth disgusts me 😖

[unrestrainedbalderdash]

By the way, I'm changing my Dano Slander tag to D*no Slander, just a quick heads up so you can block it for if it ever comes up

[drdemonprince]

The conversations about accountability & apologies that we've been having in social justice circles these last few years have basically trained everybody to fawn.

We've been telling people that if they are accused of any wrongdoing or of hurting anybody's feelings, it is their obligation to apologize immediately, and never to hedge, disagree, or to explain their rationale what they've done.

In their apology, we expect them to articulate every single thing that they have done that was damaging in the strongest language possible and to declare outright that they have harmed someone, often multiple groups of people, even if they are not sure of the impact (or could not even possibly be sure).

If a person's apology is anything but immediate and entirely self-excoriating, we accuse the person of downplaying the damage they have done, failing to be accountable, and manipulating others.

In this way, we've made it impossible for a person to ever take their own side lest that be taken itself as a form of wrongdoing. We have trained our fellow social-justice-minded people to believe that if they do anything but worsen the case against themselves, they are being irresponsible.

I say we, in all of this, because I have partaken in all of this rhetoric, made these kinds of criticism, given accused people this type of advice.

And I have followed it myself, often to a damaging effect.

I have taken responsibility for problems in which I truly did not believe I played a part, I've overstated the damage that I've done so as not to risk understating it, I've ascribed malice to my intentions when I knew it wasn't there, I've agreed with people's most negative, bad-faith narratives about conflicts involving me that they were not even present for, offered up information about myself that was not a third party's business in the name of transparency, apologized for things I haven't done -- and in doing all of this, I have denied my loved ones the opportunity to really hear me about what I was going through and my motivations when I was in conflict with them, things that any true friend or close associate would obviously want to hear about if they cared about me.

This aim of giving the perfect apology and taking perfect accountability has been nothing but an isolating force in my life, because it has barred me from openly entering into necessary conflict with people when our needs were incompatible or they had hurt me just as much as I'd hurt them. The fear of being a manipulative, unaccountable DARVO-er has led me to roll onto my back and expose my belly, falling over myself with panicked apologies and the most unflattering information possible cast in the least explicable light, almost outright begging for others to become angrier at me and believing that it was only way I could ever possibly be accepted back.

We've drilled into people that the way to be good and responsible is to allow people to view us as negatively as possible, to even arm others with information that will confirm that point of view, and to never insert our own perspective or needs on the matter at all.

And yeah, there are a lot of shitty people out there who dodge accountability easily because their power ensconces them from any consequences. but the primary problem with that was never that they wrote a shitty notesapp apology that used the unforgivable phrase "I am sorry if you felt XYZ." The real problem was that there was no community that held enough influence to hold them to account, and for their victims there weren't ever adequate supports or protections.

instead of addressing any of that in a remotely systematic way, we have taken to picking apart every accused person's every word and deed for evidence of inner moral failure and created a culture in which we think we can determine a person's safety by how artfully they put words together when they are under threat. and what do you know, plenty of bad faith actors and conflict avoidant cowards and people who just dont understand what they are even being accused of can do that just fine.

[melminli]

Dirty Cash (Money Talks)

summary - you had nothing against your colleague, but you weren't stupid enough to be fooled by his innocent smile and appearance since you knew exactly what kind of corrupt person was hiding behind that costume. after all, you were wearing the same one.

pairing: (gong yoo/ji-cheol) the salesman x fem. recruiter reader

word count: 1.4k

contains: talk about gambling + death and murder, sexual tension?, crack and just evil morals tbh

a/n: i watched maybe the first fifteen minutes or so of bullet train, but i thought of the two funny dudes from it while writing this bcuz their dynamic was funny af. also, i will use the actor's name in this fic since the character itself doesn't really have an official one that was mentioned in the series!

You straightened your tie with your free hand while watching your train approach from the side. The station was always pretty empty at this hour, which saved you the jostling and squeezing as you entered. After that, you sat down comfortably with a light sigh - next to the free seat beside your devilishly handsome colleague. “Are you alright? Don't tell me that you had a exhausting day?” he asked you worriedly with his typical innocent smile on his face but you've known the guy for a while now and you knew exactly how dishonest he sounded right now.

You returned his gaze for a second, uninterested, before turning it back in front of you to observe your surroundings from the window. “Exhausting day? Don't make fun of me or I'll punch you in the face,” you replied monotone and Gong Yoo didn't doubt your statement for a second - or Ji-cheol as you preferred to call him since you weren't a big fan of nicknames. “I had a great time punching those bastards in the face one by one. It feels kinda therapeutic, so I'm actually feeling pretty good right now,” you told him, talking about the subject as if you were talking about the weather.

Your colleague grunted with delight at your good news. “And I would never disagree with you on that.” he said and then just watched your figure silently for a while before speaking up again. “Since you're in such a good mood, would you be willing to play a more private game between the two of us?” he suggested, making you look at him in utter disbelief.

“A private game? With you?” you repeated, amused and laughed in his face. “Hell, no. But don't worry, I'll let you know next time I want to get totally screwed by a freaky pervert,” you added, your voice dripping with sarcasm. Which will be, never.

“Come on, don't be like that,” he asked you sweetly. As sweet as the wolf who pretended to be the mother of the seven little goats before he ate them all one by one. “It's just a tiny, harmless game. It's been so long since we've played anything together.” he complained to you earnestly as if you actually cared, and you didn't.

Yeah, you remembered the last time very clearly, even if you would much rather prefer that you didn't. You hummed. “Is that so? Huh. I mean, it could be because you almost killed me in a fucking game of tic-tac-toe the last time, but that's just a theory.” You said with a shrug, clearly still resenting him for that. However, he just rolled his eyes unaffected by your grudge. “But you didn't, right? It was the other guy who got the bullet in his head.” He replied, not even remembering his name. Not that he had to.

You just glared at him while you rubbed your forehead. “Yeah, maybe. But I'm tired of risking my life just because it makes you horny and you can jerk off to it.” You made your feelings on the matter clear. “You know that the whole living on the edge of death thing isn't really my cup of tea. At least try to understand me a bit here, too.”

I suppose she's not entirely wrong, I could give it a try. I never thought about it like that before, did I? He thought to himself in his head as he ran his tongue over the back of his teeth while he pondered. How selfish of me. “So what exactly do I have to do, to convince you?” He asked you while he already had a few ideas in mind.

You grinned. “You know that very well, don't play dumb.” You demanded as you leaned closer to him so that he could hear what you were singing softly. “Money talks, money talks - dirty cash, I want you, and dirty cash, I need you, oh ~”

He raised an eyebrow, not particularly surprised. “So you want to play for money?” He repeated it, not outright rejecting your request. “Don't you have enough of that already? You're really insatiable when it comes to cash and now you want mine, too?” he joked just to get you worked up.

Though, you didn't get the slightest bit offended by what he said. “Can you ever have enough money? Besides, I'm not forcing you to give it to me, am I?” you said with a smile, already knowing that he would agree to your terms. “But if you want me to play with you, I want eight million won for every round I win.”

She's so greedy for someone who is already more than wealthy. “Aren't you exaggerating a bit? Most people don't earn that much in a month,” he continued his act of - whatever this was - because he just loved arguing with you.

“So? We both have the same salary, I know you can afford it,” you said, holding a hand in the air as soon as you felt that he wanted to stretch this unnecessary conversation even more. “You have to decide now what you want to do or I withdraw my proposal again.”

Gong Yoo closed his mouth and started grinning even wider. “You don't even want to know what kind of game I want to play?” he asked curiously, nodding and accepting whatever you wanted as soon as he saw that you actually weren't interested. You couldn't even imagine how gladly he gave in to you at this moment. “All right, I agree with your request.”

You stood up with your briefcase in hand after your station was announced. “Good. Text me when you have something in mind, I'll be there as long as it fits timewise.”

Your colleague continued to watch you with a look on his face that used to make you more than just uncomfortable back in the day - though, it didn't even bother you in the slightest now. “You don't want to accompany me to the...office?”

You smiled while the train started to slow down. “Au revoir, Ji-cheol.” you just said your goodbye to him and stepped out of the doors. You didn't even spare the poor guy a second glance when he waved his hand at you from the window. She can be so heartless sometimes, he thought to himself, even if you were like this pretty much all the time. I'll have to think of something good to ask for in return should I win. I'm definitely not going to hold back when there's this much money at stake.

You didn't give a second thought to anything as you made your way home after a day's work like any normal citizen would do. However, your steps slowed considerably when you noticed a beggar in your field of vision and even though the rest of the crowd ignored the man and his entire existence, you couldn't help but focus your full attention on him. You looked at your watch, I've been off work for a while now. But even then, you couldn't help but notice that he was one of the people on your list to recruit for the game. He'll still be here tomorrow, but I don't mind another round of Ddakji. I love money more than anything - but I'm not doing this job for only that.

“Excuse me,” you spoke to the man with a polite smile on your face, and he only submissively avoided your gaze as he listened to you. After all, one rarely approached people like him and why would they? He held his cup of loose change out in front of him, probably expecting you to give him a small donation, but you wanted to give him so much more than that. Even if the guy didn't know it right now - you wanted to give him another chance in life, so that he wouldn't continue to be just a miserable failure.

You ignored his donation cup. “I was wondering if you might have a moment because I'd like to make you an offer,” you continued politely and the man met your gaze at that. Yeah, you were really looking forward to what was about to happen - after all, you were known for letting your opponent only win if you allowed them to.

[shotmrmiller]

a little prologue before i eventually write the schmeat.

pornstar au!

f!reader

Simon retired from the adult entertainment industry at 38 years old, but he'd been in it for a decade and a half.

He left his mark, going down in history as one of the greatest of all time in pornography. Simon was a living legend, and his cock was equally legendary which even attracted the attention of famous personalities. In fact, he made sure they signed an airtight NDA just to have the privilege of having his phone number.

It eventually became dull, however, and decided it was time to call it quits. He'd had his fun and now explicitly works behind the scenes with the casting and directing.

Not for the lack of trying on his hires' part though. He cannot recall how many times he's had actors trying to entice him into bending them over the black leather couch or fuck them against the walls of their dressing rooms.

Simon had retired and meant it.

That was, until you.

A fresh face, a rookie in the business but he's completely mesmerized by the video he's watching featuring his protege, Johnny. The scene itself was nothing special, just a dad's best friend script, but you...something about you was extraordinary.

He felt his manhood stir as he watched your lips parting in a silent scream as a climax washed over you, causing your toes to curl and fingers to dig into Johnny's biceps as he split you open on top of a kitchen counter.

Your eyes clenched tightly in bliss; head thrown back in pleasure. You weren't faking it in the least, not that it was ever in question— there was a frothy, milky cream around the base of Johnny's cock, your body twitched with the aftershocks of it, and he's had more than a lifetime's worth of women and men underneath and on top of him to know what a real orgasm looked like.

You looked delectable. His mouth watered as he thought of getting a taste of you— he wanted to eat that pretty pussy of yours like it was to be his last meal, push his thick fingers into your slick hole and make you ride his hand until you hunched over and gushed arousal down his wrist and forearm.

Simon palmed himself roughly outside of his trousers and hissed when Johnny covered your mouth with his as he rubbed your slippery clit under the pad of his thumb until you broke away to let out a choked scream— another peak that Johnny takes as his.

He fucks you through it with a slow undulation of his hips, just like Simon taught him, and only when your limbs are loose, syrupy, does he finally relent and in a few thrusts, he's pulling out and covering your glistening slit with his spend.

Simon grips his phone so hard, it makes a cracking sound. He's had A-list celebrities with unrivaled beauty begging for him to see them again. He's had Aphrodite in his bed and Adonis on his knees.

And yet none compare to the sight of you, skin dewy with saliva and sweat, damp hair sticking to your forehead, and another man's cum dripping out of you.

He's enthralled.

Simon tosses his cell and briskly walks toward his kitchen island, where his laptop sits. In a matter of minutes, he's sent an email to the company you work for and told them to name their price, he'd pay anything to get you in his studio.

They readily agreed, of course. No one denies Simon anything.

Simon runs his tongue over his teeth in anticipation; he's gonna lift you to the very stars.

Ghost is about to make his long-awaited return and only for you.

[thisisntmyrightera]

Park SungHoon Head Cannons x Fem Reader

Pairing: Park SungHoon x Fem Reader

Headcannons about your relationship with SungHoon. Type: Fluff, some Angst Beware: Messages of hate, racism, sexism.

Note: I wanted to do something different and since I couldn't find anything about Park Sunghoon anywhere, I decided to bring something to the lovers of this great actor. It had been on my mind for a long time and I had to express it. I hope you like it.

-SungHoon and you met back in March 2023 when you were both recruited for the cast of Squid Game 2, with you being the foreign addition of the season

-As soon as you met, his kindness and tenderness resonated a lot with you, you were used to only knowing his roles but meeting him in person surprised you, he was a totally different person than usual.

-He, on the other hand, didn't last a single second without getting to know you before he was enchanted by your beauty. You seemed so delicate and different from what he was normally used to that he couldn't get you out of his head. As soon as he had the chance, he approached you and introduced himself, and quickly you both became good friends. Your first friend from the cast.

-A couple of weeks later, he invited you to eat at a place that wasn't fancy. In fact, he surprised you when he asked you to dress comfortably, something not at all formal. You both wore sweatpants, baggy sweatshirts, and caps. The date took place at a local gimbap restaurant, his favorite, which you loved as soon as you tried the first bite.

-The date was unique, like none you had had in years. There were no prejudices or anything false to impress. No one approached to bother you or you felt pressure around you to run away. On the contrary, everything around you was calm and the conversation you both had flowed as naturally as if you had known each other for years.

-Your friends (who you've told absolutely everything to) were initially hesitant about your relationship, he was much older than you, almost 40 and it could be harmful, but when he was with you he seemed like nothing more than a teenage boy in love, giggling and blushing, something about him made you feel like he was the one, but no one made the first move… or so you thought.

-The second date was shortly after, this time at your apartment, you both wore comfortable clothes again, ate instant ramen and fried chicken that he brought from his favorite restaurant, even though they had a movie on Netflix in the background neither of you paid attention, again you spent hours chatting laughing at stories and telling anecdotes.

-It was almost in October when during a walk along the banks of the Han River he took your hand, you didn't even notice, everything was so natural as if both of you were made for each other that his hand simply became part of yours

"I'm cold" you told him trembling with your cheeks blushing a little from the cold autumn wind, he didn't mention anything, he just smiled surrounding you with his arms while both of you leaned on each other looking at the river current

-In November, one of his best friends was getting married and he didn't miss the opportunity to invite you, he didn't spare his feelings either when he entered taking your hand, greeting his acquaintances and introducing you as his girlfriend, it was the moment when someone took a photograph which quickly traveled through the networks divulging your relationship

-Your name and his were everywhere, some portals referring to you as "the girlfriend" not even bothering to publish your name, many fans and followers began to share messages misogynists and racists against you.

''She's probably an easy one, she's a foreigner that's why they come to our country''

''She should have slept with him, aish she looks so fake''

''I don't understand why they keep bringing foreign celebrities to our country, now she'll dirty their legacy''

-Message after message made your heart ache, you spent hours crying and feeling like you weren't enough, to the point of asking him not to contact you anymore so as not to ruin his career, he had enough dramas in his life being hated for his controversial roles and now you would cause him more problems

-This only lasted a couple of weeks, one day he came to your door knocking with a small bouquet of flowers, subtle but with your favorite flowers, it was impossible not to let him in with his kind and warm smile, after talking for hours where he comforted you and apologized for not acting quickly against all the people who hurt you he took out of his pocket a small box, it was white and inside it two rings, one thicker than the other which made you overthink and panic a little making him laugh at your innocence.

''These are promise rings, I'll wear this one and you'll wear this one, we'll always wear these rings, no matter where we go we'll always wear them and when people see them they'll know that you and I have something that they can't break, because we've promised to love each other''

-From that day on, wherever you went, you always wore your ring on your left hand, which fans were quick to compare and realize that you and SungHoon shared the same design and quickly began to demand answers.

-For the fans it was something sick, despite being far past the age of majority, you still looked young and this made you earn roles as a student or teenager in popular kdramas, while he continued to receive the hatred of the public by playing mature villains without scruples, how could a sweet teenager have a relationship with a mature man, it was unforgivable.

-Despite this, there were thousands of people who loved both of you and respected your privacy, who supported you in your work and understood that you were both adults with your own decisions, that made you feel better and motivated you to move forward every day.

-His favorite dates were still at home, either at yours or his, they were always dates to eat fast food or recipes that he prepared to introduce you to Korean cuisine, then they watched movies until both of them fell asleep, almost always you sitting on his lap asleep on his shoulder.

-The next day you woke up in his bed or yours and he slept next to you always taking the necessary distance so as not to bother you or inconvenience you, but that didn't last long, as soon as you woke up you climbed on top of him hugging him to sleep some more time.

-A couple of months later both of you began to have more serious talks, would you sell your apartment or his? or would you both sell and buy a better one?, would you like to get married?, have children?, how would we work when the children were born?, talks that didn't sound uncomfortable at all, on the contrary it was comforting to know that you had a responsible and dedicated man at your side.

-At the beginning of 2024, both decided to sell both apartments and buy a better one, with enough space, which they decorated in neutral colors, which they inaugurated by inviting both their families to dinner, both cultures came together to welcome a new family which announced that their future plans included getting married.

-The families of both could not be happier than ever, your mother loved him like a son and his mother hugged you and squeezed your cheeks whenever she saw you, you were the girl she always wanted to have.

-In June 2024 while you were working on a series where you finally played a more mature girl than your previous characters, you felt a strong pain in your stomach, something like a colic and then you vomited the coffee and breakfast you had eaten before.

-They quickly took you to the hospital, everyone feared that you had suffered some kind of intoxication or poisoning, but everything was fine, your blood was clean in almost all the tests until you got to the bottom of the exam

-"Congratulations, you're pregnant" the doctor told you smiling while you looked at him in shock without knowing what was happening, you clearly knew what had happened, you were both already a formal couple and had thousands of plans for the future, but you had forgotten one thing in particular, to take care of yourselves when having sex.

-That night you told him, both of you sitting on the couch where many other nights you had had dates (and possibly where you had also gotten pregnant) he seemed worried at first, but when he realized he was very happy, he was going to be a father, he was going to have a little being with the woman he loved and it had been created by the love you both felt

-You cried at first, you were scared but as soon as he hugged you and comforted you with his words you knew that everything was going to be okay.

-From that day on, he started making thousands of plans, how they were going to decorate the baby's room, how they would protect the house so that they wouldn't suffer any accidents, that you would wait for them to be born to find out if it was a boy or a girl or they would like to know before, it seemed like he had had an adrenaline rush.

-At night, he liked to lie down next to you and talk to your belly (still flat) while he told the baby how his day had been, he told them how he had met you, how the weather was, insignificant things for everyone but for him, it was important that his baby knew that he was already part of the family.

-As the months went by, as soon as your belly began to show, he loved taking pictures of you in all the landscapes they found, he wanted to save even the smallest detail of your pregnancy.

-One day while you were both drinking cold coffee on a bench in front of the river, Han took your hand and talked about the future. From his pocket he took out a small box, carefully opening it and showing you a ring like the one you had always dreamed of (and the one that your best friend surely helped him choose).

"After our baby is born, I would like us to get married in a beautiful wedding like the one you deserve. It can be big or discreet, you decide that, or it can be just you, me and our child. I will be happy with the simple fact that our family is formed.

-It wasn't long before someone again leaked a photo of you where your belly was noticeable and again your name was all over the gossip tabloids, this time accompanied by rude comments against you and your unborn child.

-By then your last series had already ended and you were at home resting when your agency sent you a statement telling you that SungHoon and his agency wanted to make a joint statement, you gave your approval without thinking.

''I appreciate the support shown by our fans, im so sorry if some feel offended by our private life, I would like to announce that after knowing each other for a long time and realizing that we both felt the same way about each other, Y'N and I decided to formalize our relationship which has flowed healthy and happy, we are currently expecting our first child which we are very excited to welcome in February of next year who will be born in a home full of respect and love. Our relationship is better than ever, having already decided to get engaged to be married after our firstborn comes into the world. We appreciate the love and understanding of those who feel happy with our happiness, we treasure it in our hearts.''

-With that, SungHoon made sure to make everything clear, if that was what they wanted to know, he gave it to them by clearing up all the rumors.

-In December of that same year, Squid Game 2 finally premiered, taking you to the premiere on the arm of your future husband and adorning your dress with your beautiful belly.

-Your co-stars were happy, Ae-Shim (Geum-Ja) who had become a motherly figure for your character in the series kept caressing your belly repeating how beautiful you looked and how bright your face was.

-''It's a little squid, it will be my godson or goddaughter'' Jung-Jae repeated laughing whenever he saw you

-SungHoon never left your side, wherever you went he would accompany you holding your hand or resting it on your back, always making you feel protected

-This time the tabloids mentioned how pretty you looked, how happy you seemed and how adorable you seemed with your round belly, as well as how pretty your engagement ring was and how in love you both looked.

[lackadaisycats]

I'm not trying to bug you with this, and you don't have to answer this if you don't wanna, but I heard a lot of people were against moving to Bluesky because apparently it's rampant with Nazis, but I haven't really found any proof of that.

Just wanted to share. Maybe inquire if you knew anything about that?

I have not personally encountered any Nazis there. Bluesky isn't perfect, but the noise machine of bots, trolls, disinfo accounts, and the aura of extreme negativity just really isn't present in the way it is on Twitter. So being there is just....nice. I'm sure there are some unsavory people there, and many who will try to make inroads as the platform grows, but for now, the people interested in making Bluesky a good place to be seem to vastly outnumber the bad actors. Also, Bluesky's block function is more robust and thorough, and you can block entire curated lists of people you want nothing to do with, if you so choose. (Be warned that who you have blocked is public information, though, if someone should go and check the repository.)

On a more pleasant note, there are also entire lists ("starter packs") of people to follow - indie creators, comic artists, illustrators, activists, journalists, writers of different genres, etc. You can also follow specific feeds of topics that interest you, and you can make your own feeds.

As an added blessing, posts that include outside links are not (currently) throttled like they are on other platforms. It's hard to overstate how meaningful that is for creators trying to get eyes on their portfolios and other work that can't be shared directly within a post.

[venusandsaturnsrings]

you sighed heavily, zoning out on some of the elaborate wallpaper in front of you as your friend chattered on enthusiastically at your side.

last week, they had burst into your workplace with an expression so anxious you had thought something was seriously wrong. they went on to elaborate that famous director mr. reca was on penacony and having a surprise casting call and, as a member of the iris family, they just needed to go and audition but the idea of standing in front of such a well known face in the cinema world had them more panicked than they’d ever been before. whining endlessly about how they were so very nervous but couldn’t possibly miss such an opportunity, you easily picked up what exactly they wanted; you to go with them. sighing you offered your companionship partially as a good friend and partially to make the other workers stop glaring daggers, you finally chased them out the door as they promised to meet you at the studio on the weekend.

now in a long line of other actors and actresses hoping to finally get a breakthrough part, the number pinned hastily to your chest was starting to irritate you on top of not wanting to be here in the first place. agreeing so quickly was looking more like a mistake as you were realizing you had no experience or anything prepared and you’d soon be standing in front of a man who’d scrutinize your every move; a real nightmare in the dream.

it took a surprisingly short amount of time for your friend to be whisked away into the audition room with its heavy soundproof doors and you had to stand alone coming to terms with how much of a fool you’d look like. a brief thought of running flitted through your brain as you nervously tapped your foot but before any commitment to bolting could arise, you were ushered in.

the room was elegant but felt unbelievably sterile with the marble floors and delicate chandelier. behind a large wooden table stacked with folders, notes, and expensive looking pens was the man you dreaded explaining this predicament to. with piercing eyes and a predatory smile, mr. reca seemed unnervingly interested in what you’d go on to show him; nothing, unfortunately. you took your place in the centre of the room and awkwardly cleared your throat before dumping a word vomit of an apology and explanation filled with ‘i can’t act for shit,’ and ‘i’m sorry for wasting your time.’ he nodded with a low hum and seemed almost sympathetic as he tapped a finger against his lips while thinking.

“you’re here now and your… appearance… seemed perfectly suited to a personal project of mine i can’t seem to get out of my head,” his smile was unnerving in a way, “humour me and try out a couple poses at the least. such a role would come with magnificent compensation.” not the response you expected but you figured he was owed something for such a fumble. upon your agreement he had you shift into numerous positions that made your face flush with embarrassment but mr. reca seemed beyond pleased if his praise meant anything.

“magnificent. please, i’d love to have you star in a this minor film of mine. such a project will only take a few afternoons and i’ll make sure it’s worth your time.”

it’s the next week when you’re at his home. he welcomes you with a neat suffocating hug and offers numerous snacks and drinks as a show of good will. it’s quite charming until he takes you to where he’s set up for the first scenes.

the room is dim, lit by ambient lighting only and silk ribbons drape across the room. in the middle is a bed covered in luxurious sheets and soft blankets with a table on each side holding a variety of lewd toys; your face is warm. mr. reca cheerfully points to every object explaining the purpose and how it’ll be used after fiddling with all the different locks on the door to successfully trap you in. suddenly you feel sweaty and your chest is tight as you shiver uncontrollably. his personal film was an adult film. he dangles the previously signed contract over your head with a promise to publicly humiliate you if you don’t, “strip and put on these pieces,” a lacy pair of panties and a bra that hides nothing. he’s throwing a pair of stockings at your chest as well before making some adjustments on his camera. with no choice, you change and pray that this will be over soon but the sinking feeling in your gut says otherwise when you see he’s undressing as well.

[vangbelsing]

I know it's been said before by many different people, but, and I truly cannot stress this enough: DO NOT harass the Dragon Age cast, DO NOT push parasocial behaviors or expectations on them, DO NOT objectify them and treat them as if they are there solely for your personal entertainment.

I have seen people - especially in the bg3 fandom - harass people over their "treatment" of a character, only to then violate the boundaries of the actor that portrays them. There are so many instances of the character being treated better than the person behind them.

Keep in mind that these are REAL PEOPLE who have their own lives, thoughts experiences and values, and their feelings matter a lot more than someone's need to feel sexually gratified at their expense. So let's not conflate sexualizing a person against their wishes with "appreciating their work".

Remember: the fictional characters they portray are not real, they have no thoughts, agency or feelings, so you can say whatever you like about them, because they don't exist and don't have boundaries to cross. But the actors who play those characters are real and you cannot treat them as you would the character themselves.

Andrew Wincott, the actor for Raphael in bg3, had to deal with fans acting as if they were entitled to his time, his promotions and overall his general attention. And Neil Newbon, who has been nothing but lovely and very kind to his fans, repeatedly told people how uncomfortable they had started to make him before taking action after it went too far for too long.

So, in closing:

DON'T BE PARASOCIAL WITH THE DA:TV CAST, DON'T SEXUALIZE THEM, AND RESPECT THEIR BOUNDARIES BECAUSE THEY ARE REAL PEOPLE AND THEY DON'T OWE YOU ANYTHING!!

[haikyu-mp4]

You're not actors

Fluffy workplace romance as a streamer with your secret husband Kenma for my workplace romance event <3

requested by @dira333. word count; 837 – f!reader

Kenma loves his wedding ring. It’s just a piece of metal, but the matching one on your finger makes him giddy whenever he sees it, even if he doesn’t usually tell you that.

Unfortunately, he has to take it off for work. Your relationship wasn’t public, so he would rather not awaken any suspicions by showing his ring on camera. He’s a private person, preferring not to have everyone asking questions about his personal life.

You have separate streaming rooms on either end of the house so no noise would overlap, and so far everything ran smoothly. Sometimes, you would have to remind him about the ring as he kisses you before heading to his streaming room, and sometimes he remembers it himself. 

And sometimes you both forget.

This time, Kenma started the stream with his ring sitting snug on his finger and as time passed, he simply couldn’t move past this one level. It frustrated him to the point of running his hands through his hair and groaning at the seemingly impossible task. As the light from the screen hit metal, it glinted in the camera.

That’s how the speculations started. Is Kodzuken married? He never answers questions about his relationship status…

You’re a streamer too, often seen doing collabs with Kenma but never in person. You worried either of you might forget to act not in love while the viewers are literally observing your every move.

This time, you streamed alone. You recently started a Stardew Valley series where the viewers got to follow the progress with your fun commentary. It was very entertaining and gained you many more followers.

And Kenma knew you were streaming, so it was difficult to hide your surprise when a shattering sound ran through the house and someone hissed “Shit!”

Pausing the stream, you ran into the living room to find your husband surrounded by broken glass and spilt soda with a sheepish look. After sweeping some of it away and making sure he was okay, you hurried back to the stream and started it again to keep playing.

You pursed your lips, trying to act as if nothing happened. Unfortunately, you’re a YouTuber, not an actor.

That’s how the speculations started. Who does she live with? Is she in a secret relationship?

Following these two unfortunate events, you had no choice but to do the collab you had planned, as skipping it would seem suspicious. So just like normal, you both opened the shooter game and acted like you usually would while playing together, as if the comments weren’t bombarding you with these different rumours and some suggested your rumours were related to each other.

While you swore like a sailor at anything disadvantageous during the game, Kenma fell into the bad habit of watching your stream instead of his game, heart eyes evident to anyone who had eyes themselves. He would eventually sober up, getting revenge on anyone who went against you and then killing you so he could win alone.

His soft voice in your headphones made a shiver run down your spine and you wished the watchers were lying when they said Kodzuken is the only one you don’t curse at.

There were several heart eyes during this stream, and it was not just in the comments.

You both stood in the kitchen a couple of days (read nights) later. Kenma had accidentally woken you up by stubbing his toe on the bed and you demanded snacks so he pulled you along to the kitchen. The two of you talked about your latest work adventures or friend gossip while tapping your feet on the cold floors, a plate of apple pie in each of your hands.

“I’ve been thinking about something,” Kenma said, holding his hand up when he knew you were about to say something like I’m happy you told me or else I’d miss it. “Maybe we should just tell everyone.”

When you looked confused, he flipped his hand around, wiggling his fingers to show off the wedding ring as emphasis. Your eyes widened. “That’s a pretty big thought, buddy, good job.”

He snorted, scooping up another piece of cake and feeding it to you. “I’m serious.”

“But I kinda like watching you try to keep it a secret,” you teased again before stepping closer and pressing light kisses along his jaw. Kenma sighed, pusring his lips and looking away with something that looked an awful lot like guilt.

“I might have just said I have a wife on livestream.”

Flashback to a couple of hours before, when some, probably thirteen-year-old, boy commented on Kenma’s apparent lack of rizz. A gen-Z concept Kenma had no interest in taking part in, but felt weirdly offended by.

“Bet you dont even pull, all the marridge rumors are so stupd.”

He would never admit out loud that it hit a nerve, but you wouldn’t need him to. It was evident. “You should see my wife, noob. She’s fucking gorgeous and plays better than whatever you pull.”

masterlist

/thank you @cottonlemonade for brainstorming with me<3

[crushpunky]

actress!reader helps drew rehearse a scene

masterlist | actress!reader masterlist

based off this ask <3

“‘Their lips touch hesitantly, they pull away, then they continue intensely. It looks as if the two are trying to eat each other’?” Drew reads, an exasperated expression on his face from the opposite end of the couch. He had been reading through the scene he was supposed to begin rehearsal for next week. When he auditioned for Queer, he knew that it was going to be something intense, like Luca’s other projects and unlike anything else he had worked on. Sure, he’d done explicit scenes in the past, but nothing quite as intimate or personal as the ones Luca had written for Queer.

“So like biting or…?” Y/n quirked a brow, looking up from her book as she listened to Drew��s occasional comments on the script.

“I think it’s more of a like… consumption thing, y’know? Like wanting to have the person wholly, I think.” Drew nodded, adjusting his glasses as he looked over the words again. Y/n nodded, biting her bottom lip as she watched Drew, her book now long gone on the coffee table in front of them.

“‘The two hit back and forth, almost a dance of push and pull. It’s messy and intense, but beautiful and clean’. How are you supposed to act messily and cleanly? With fuckin’ Daniel Craig, let alone?” Drew sighed, running a hand through his hair as he tossed the script down. 

“I think it’s like the act itself is messy and intense, but it’s also a beautiful and almost perfectly clean and serene moment of realization.” Y/n propped her elbow up on the back of the couch, her other hand coming to rest on one of Drew’s legs that stretched across the couch. She soothed her hand along the skin of his calf, watching as he looked off into space as he thought, running the scene through his head. With a sigh, he ran a hand down his face before slinking down into the couch.

“I get it, I just… it’s gonna feel strange showing that level of intensity with someone else...” Drew chewed at his bottom lip before his eyes fell back on y/n, who had a sort of smirk on her face. 

“I think you’ll do just fine, Drew.” Y/n tried to stifle a laugh. Drew shook his head, a light chuckle leaving his lips as he sat up, his arms reaching out around y/n and pulling her to sit against his chest.

“With someone else that isn’t my girlfriend.” Drew clarified, running a hand along her side as she looked at him.

“Well, what would you usually do? Let’s start there.” Y/n sat up, across from Drew, their legs entwined as they looked at each other.

“Well, it says they touch hesitantly so—” Drew pressed his lips quickly to hers before pulling away slightly, his eyes looking down at her lips before flicking up to meet her own gaze.

“Then…” Drew mutters, a hand coming up to rest on her neck as he hesitantly leaned in before opening his lips wide… too wide. He pressed his lips to her face, his mouth open as he nearly took a bite out of her nose which caused her to sputter a laugh into his mouth. He pulled away quickly, his eyes wide as he looked at her with a slight cough.

“What are you doing?!” Y/n laughed, wiping a bit of slobber off her mouth.

“I don’t know! I panicked! I– It said ‘like the two are trying to eat each other’ so I just went for it and—” Drew groaned. How was he supposed to do this? Let alone with a highly regarded actor and director? Why was he having such a hard time kissing his fucking girlfriend? He was usually a professional at that.

“You’re overthinking it, baby.” Y/n said, taking one of his hands. “Just… relax. It says it’s a dance. Just feel it.”

Drew nodded, running a hand through his hair quickly before straightening back up again. He took a deep breath as he brushed his lips across y/n’s lightly before pulling away. He only pulled far enough away to look at her through his thick lashes, his breath fanning across her lips before he cupped her jaw with one hand. He pulled her lips to his in a searing kiss as his other hand wrapped around her torso, pulling her flush to his chest.

The two of them continued, pushing back and forth as the kiss grew more intense and sloppy. Y/n’s hands rested on the back of Drew’s neck, her fingers burrowing in his hair as he opened his mouth widely, practically consuming each movement of her lips. Drew squeezed his eyes tightly as he continued, focusing on the moment and each and every movement the two of them made in their intricately beautiful dance. With a sudden gasp, the two of them finally pulled away from each other, gazes low, lips swollen, and cheeks flushed.

“I think you’ve got it.” Y/n whispered breathily before the two of them broke out in laughs and wide smiles. Drew pressed a quick kiss to the top of y/n’s head before falling back down on the couch, both of their chests heaving as they came down from the high of the intense moment.

“Yeah, me too.” Drew sighed.

[etherealmelodys]

Choi Su-Bong/ Thanos

NSFW Alphabet

Warning: Talks of oral, penetrative sex, squirting, dacryphilia, mentions of drugs, Thanos just being himself.

A/N: ong I'm sick of ppl writing Thanos like he's abusive, my purple haired king would never!! But tbh he's lucky he ain't real or I'd suck the skin right off his dick ykwim

A - Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Contrary to popular belief, I don't think he'd be that bad at aftercare. He's not amazing at it don't get me wrong, but he's not gonna just leave you alone with nothing. He definitely might offer you some sort of drug he's got on his roster, but I believe he'd clean you up and make sure that you're feeling okay and get confirmation that he wasn't too rough with you.

B - Body Part (Their favorite body part on you and themselves)

Nobody can tell me that this man isn't obsessed with his tongue oml. To him, it's a gift from the gods that he gets to use it to taste every part of you. From your soft lips to your breasts, all the way down to your cunt. He's an ass man oh my. He loves the way it jiggles when he fucks you from behind, how soft and smooth it is when he grips it while you ride him.

C - Cum (Anything to do with cum)

You cannot tell me this man doesn't love cumming all over your back or ass. He's obsessed with the way it slides down the curve of your ass, coating his thighs in the substance. He adores how messy the whole process is, wanting to see you covered in just him, it could get him higher than any drug he's tried.

D - Dirty Secret ( Self-explanatory)

He just wants one night where he can do whatever he wants to your tits. Whether it be playing with your nipples, leaving hickeys on them, massaging them, or more importantly squishing them together and fucking them, his tip going between your plump lips every time he thrusts up into them.

E - Experience (How experienced are they?)

Did y'all see all the people that swarmed him once they knew who he was? Imagine what it was like outside the games. He is well-experienced when it comes to fucking someone, but not having an intimate moment with another person.

F - Favorite Position (What positions do they like the most?)

He loves any position that puts him in a position of control. He loves reverse cowgirl especially because it gives him full access to the sight of your ass. He's also a fan of doggy style, again due to the sight he gets of your ass but also because of how deep he can get in that position.

G - Goofy (How serious are they in the moment? Do they tease you?)

He is teasing the shit outta you I'm so sorry. I don't think he has the capability not to tease you. It just gets him so worked up seeing your eyes well up with tears at his comments, it just makes his cock throb.

H - Hair (What’s the hair situation down there)

I honestly cannot decide with him. For one he gives off the vibes that he's bald down there, finding the hair to be an annoyance. But also I don't think he'd care enough about it to shave it and just let it grow. For the sake of the argument, I'm just gonna say he shaves his shit bald.

I - intimacy (How romantic are they in the moment?)

I feel like there are some times when he can be very romantic if you need it. Usually, he's the type to go rough and fast. But occasionally he can be slow and sensual, giving you gentle kisses and touches, treating you as if you were the most delicate thing he's ever handled.

J - Jack Off (How often do they touch themselves?)

He jacks off very frequently, about every other day tbh. I don't think he'd do it to porn often, and if he did it would be to an actor who looks like you. But most of the time he does it to the memory of you, whether it be you grinding down on his face making those pretty noises he loves so much, or him fucking into you, your whines the only thing he can hear besides the slapping of your skin against his.

K - Kinks (What are their kinks?)

You cannot tell me this man isn't into Exhibitionism. He loves the idea of you guys almost getting caught in the middle of the act, he swears he feels himself get even harder at the sight of you trying to quiet yourself down in an attempt to not get caught. He's also into dacryphilia, seeing you cry from the overwhelming amount of pleasure he's causing you makes him cum right on the spot.

L - Location (Where do they prefer to have sex?)

He would be into anything public, bathroom stalls, fingering you under a table, having you bounce on his dick in a dark crowded club, he's into it all.

M - Motivation (What turns them on?)

Seeing you in any type of revealing clothing, especially skirts, immediately gets him hard. Seeing you in lingerie is by far the sexiest thing you could wear in front of him. He'd want you to keep it on as he bends you over, pulling the lingerie to the side and eating you out to his heart's content.

N - No (What are some things they’ll never do?)

He's not really into the whole submissive role, he always wants to be the one in charge, at least during any sexual interaction. He's also not into doing anything that can seriously harm you.

O - Oral (How do they feel about oral? Do they prefer giving or receiving?)

I don't think he has a preference between the two. He loves the sight of you on your knees, trying to fit his cock in your mouth, tears in the corner of your eyes due to the brutal pace he's set fucking your face. But he also adores the feeling of your thighs wrapped around his head, unintentionally pulling him closer to your cunt. The feeling of it pulsing around his tongue when he finally makes you cum, the little whines and moans you let out from the overstimulation.

P - Pace (How fast/slow are they?)

He's fast with his pace, he swears he can't help himself. The feeling of your tight walls wrapped around his cock, practically begging him to pound you into the mattress with all the force he can muster. It's your fault for feeling so damm good.

Q - Quickie (How do they feel about quickies?)

He loves them so much! He's usually busy writing his songs or in the studio recording, so quickies are always a yes for him.

R - Risk (How willing are they to experiment? Do they take any risks?)

He loves experimenting, but he's usually the one to initiate it due to his impulsive behavior. If it’s something you're not willing to try he'd absolutely respect that. But if you brought something up? Oh baby he's down to do whatever as long as it doesn't put either of you in danger. Wanna try out bondage? Go ahead and get comfortable because you'll be tied up for a while.

S - Stamina (How many rounds can they do? How long can they go for?)

When he's not high out of his mind, he doesn't go that many rounds usually 2 will be enough to get him tired. But when he's off some? Ooh boy you better prepare yourself. This man is a beast when he pops a pill, you'll be so exhausted by the time he's finished. Expect around 4-5 rounds with him before he's all out of energy.

T - Toys (Do they have any toys? Are they willing to use any?)

I don't think he has that many to be frank, at most he has a vibrator or two, maybe a cock ring if you wanna be bold. I think he's so cocky and confident about his skills that he finds them to be unnecessary. Sometimes if you're having trouble cumming he’ll take one out and use it on you, but it always gets out of hand due to the fact that he wants to see you squirt from the toy. “Cmon baby, I know you can do it. Don't you wanna make me happy? I know it'll feel so good for you so just relax and squirt all over this toy”

U - Unfair (Do they tease you? How unfair are they in the bedroom?)

I fear this man is the biggest teaser throughout the whole show. He'd find a way to tease you about anything and everything. In the bedroom you are not getting a MOMENT of peace. This man will edge you and overstimulate you all in the same night. He’ll find a way to tease you about the noises you make, saying “Aww baby, you're being so loud! Am I making you feel that good? Don't be shy, you can admit that I'm the best at making you cum.”

V - Volume (How loud are they?)

He's not too loud when it comes to his noises, just occasional growl and grunt. He's definitely into dirty talk though, a lot of it. You'll hear him say stuff like “That's my good bitch, taking my cock up her cunt like the good girl she is. Don't worry baby, I'm gonna make you feel so good you won't know what to do with yourself.”

W - Weird Fact (Self-explanatory)

He's always wanted someone to do a line of coke off his cock while he was hard.

X - X Ray (What’s it looking like in those pants.)

He's about 5’11, a little on the thinner side, but he's still toned. I think he's a lot girthier than he is long, so about 5.7 inches, but his girth makes up for it. His tip color is a deeper pink color, around #E0676B. He has a slight curve down, with a thick vein running down the left side of his shaft.

Y - Yearning (How high is their sex drive? How often do they have sex?)

This man wants to do it with you every day. Not only is it the drugs that get him worked up, but just seeing you looking so damn sexy just being yourself, he could take you anytime anywhere, regardless of who's around.

Z - Zzz (How fast do they fall asleep after sex?)

I feel like he falls asleep very fast. After he's done making sure you're okay, he's slumped. He is not the type to wait for you to sleep first before he does.

(I've cooked with this one guys I cannot even lie. Thank you all sm for the recent support! I truly appreciate all the attention my work has gotten!)

Taglist:

@xera4170

[calumfmu]

sugar coated melting.

Being assistant to the famous Steve Harrington wasn't an easy task, he was demanding as ever and made sure he was nice to everyone but you. But a job was a job, and it was the cost of working in Hollywood.

Famous!Steve Harrington x Assistant!reader (modern!au, with 40's Steve) 7.5k+ words

cw: older Steve Harrington, smut, loss of virginity, inexperienced!reader, AFAB reader, angst (what's new), mentions of death, swearing, 18+, mdni

Working with one of the most famous actors in the world was draining, exhausting, taxing, everything you could negatively describe. He was such a high maintenance person, he made your job seem like a constant boot camp run for the Navy Seals. Your best friend had cackled at that supply of information.

Steve wasn’t a bad person, no. He was handsome (obviously, he had been voted most handsome of the previous 2 years in a row), kind (to most people—who weren’t you), and compassionate (he let you eat his leftovers that one time you had gotten stuck on set for 16 straight hours). You were getting paid to say nice things about him if anyone had asked.

Life working as his head assistant was just a drag. It was everything you had dreamed of doing when you were a kid, working in Hollywood with big A-listers, attending red carpets, seeing the way movies worked. The job wasn’t the problem, it… was him.

A script was shoved into your hands as you thought of giving it to the man. The look on his face was burned into the back of your mind, irritation crossing his features as you imagined giving him the bad news. He always took things out on you, attitude forward as he said some slick remark.

Last minute script change, typical of productions like these. Something that anyone could expect while working on these things. Anyone with a normal level of patience would handle it well, take it with stride.

Your fingers rapped against the trailer door, aluminum warm to the touch from the sun beating down on it. Movement sounded behind the door, mumbling a few words out at you.

The door swung open, Steve rubbing at his eyes with his hair sticking in every direction. Fuck, he was asleep. It made it so much worse delivering the news.

“Heyyy, boss,” you beamed, voice raising a few octaves. You held out the script to him, cringing slightly. “Nothing too crazy, just a sliight chan-”

“No,” the door slammed in your face, your eyes closing as the bright reflection shone on you. Your smile immediately dropped, the reflection of your face on the white aluminum door looking back at you.

Red seethed through you, frustration prickling at the back of your neck. You knocked again, this day becoming even longer with each passing second.

“Mr. Harrington.” You were met with silence, ear pressing to the door to hear any movement. You waited a beat, knocking more urgently.

“Don’t want it, tell them no,” he grumbled behind the door, his voice sounded across the trailer, muffled through the closed door.

You took a deep breath, trying to find the patience to not go off on him. You were his assistant, not his agent, not the director of the film, not anything else. What did he realistically think you were going to do about a script change?

“‘M just delivering it, Mr. Harrington.” Your voice was level. “I don’t even think it’s your lines that changed.”

A faint note of music came through the door, Steve deciding to tune you out. Looking towards the sky, you squinted, finding prayer between the clouds.

“Mr. Harrington!”

Another PA walked by you, speaking into the earpiece she had with a clipboard in hand. You raised a hand to greet her, faux smile crossing your lips as you pretended everything was okay. She waved back, making her way in between the trailers and out of your eyesight.

As soon as she disappeared, your fist came up to bang at the door, louder than before.

It opened in the middle of your fit, you nearly stumbled into the trailer. You cut your eyes at your boss, biting your tongue at the swear words that threatened to come out.

The man was well past 30 years old, but still acted like a spoiled brat.

“Fine,” he said through his teeth, grabbing the stack of papers from your hand. He barely glanced at it before tossing it on the small couch behind him. Your eyes followed it, noticing the mess of bottles on the floor around it.

He followed your gaze with his own eyes, stepping into your eyesight as he closed the door slightly.

“Anything else, Yn?” A pinch of attitude at your name. Typical.

You smiled at the man, frustration disappearing as you were just grateful this episode of his didn’t last as long as it did last week.

“No, sir, that would be it for me,” you gave him a slightly bow, clasping your hands in front of you before swiveling on your heel. Descending the mini set of stairs, you rolled your eyes, back to him as you descended. “Fucking twat.”

“I heard that!” His voice was far behind you, your feet moving fast across the blacktops. You smiled back at him, waving as confusion crossed your features.

“Sorry sir, I said it was fucking hot!” You lied straight through your teeth. “Outside, you know? Pardon my language.”

You rolled your eyes once more, turning back on your mission to get back inside the building. You and him both knew what you said, but you didn’t have it in you to care. Nothing you did would get you fired, trust, have you tried.

It was like you were in your own personal Purgatory. You assumed Steve liked you, he wouldn’t fire you even on your worst days. You had fucked up many times, forgetting things, slipping up on his to do list, calling the wrong people for the wrong events. More recently, he had heard the rude nicknames you had for him, and he just didn’t seem to care.

You had heard him one time, whisper under his breath about “best help in Hollywood”. It was sarcastic of course, his eye roll you’ve been well acquainted with to follow.

The last few weeks have been more of a hell for you, Steve becoming more temperamental and moody, you becoming the worst employee on planet Earth. You begged to be fired at this point, your shot at unemployment looking more and more appetizing.

A sudden ring cut through the air, your back pocket buzzing. Pulling it out, you nearly ripped your hair out, Steve’s contact popping up on the screen. I could ignore it, you thought. This could finally be my chance at escaping him.

Your thoughts were cut short, the phone ringing again as Steve's name popped up. He didn't even let the first one finish before trying you again.

"Oh, Mr. Harrington," you breathed, hand pressed into your brow as you answered. "Hi, sorry, sir. Did you need me?"

"Need you to come back," you heard him say, voice muffled as he seemed to be doing other things on the other side of the line. Your feet responded before your brain did, autopilot in motion. "Script's not fucking working, and I just-"

Something fell in the background, and your footsteps faltered. You ignored it, rolling your eyes yet again at his antics.

"Are you okay, sir?" You asked, seeing his trailer in the distance. One of the trailer windows had its blinds half up, he paced back and forth.

You approached it, listening to him as he rambled on the phone, speaking about how much he hated this director and his damn agent for giving him these roles. Fighting back laughter, you cosigned with him, not choosing to mention that this stupid role was worth $13 million.

You raised your fist to knock at the door, it swinging open before you could even make a noise. The three dial tones of the phone call ending rung in your ears, Steve grumbling at you to enter.

"A-are you sure, sir?" Hesitation filled you, you weren't used to stepping into his trailer. You think you'd been in it once during the last seven months of production, grabbing his left behind cell phone before they traveled to location.

Steve didn't look at you the whole time, just muttering words under his breath as he held the brand new scripts in his hand. He was pacing, feet burning holes in the carpet of the trailer.

You slowly stepped in, apprehensively closing the door behind you. Hands clasped in front of you, you stood in close proximity to the door, eyes shifting over the large trailer.

He had clothes thrown over one end of the vehicle, previous scripts sitting on the makeshift table, and a half full glass of a dark colored liquid next to it. You eyed it, brow furrowing as you swore this man had been sober for the past few years--or at least, that's what the news outlets said about him. Not like you kept up.

"Sir," you interjected his thoughts, causing him to stop in place. He still didn't look at you. "Why am I here?"

Curt answers were the easiest way for you to pretend to be nice to him. You knew you couldn't be outright rude, this was your boss after all. Saying stuff under your breath and if he accidentally heard was another thing.

He ignored you.

"How is this supposed to be the Oscar nomination when they have me acting like this?" He exhaled a small shout at the end of his words, your eyes squinting at the volume. "Does this make sense to you? It's like they want me to make a fool of myself, no?"

You shifted uncomfortably, glancing at the floor. "I'm not sure how you want me to answer that, sir."

He waited a moment, sighing loudly as he collapsed on the couch, arm thrown over his eyes. You looked at him then, seeing the way his chest heaved as he shook his eyes. The sun was setting now, golden hour lighting inching through the windows over his figure. His bed head was still wild, even more messy than it was previously.

"W-what would you like me to do, sir?" You asked, arms crossing over your chest as you felt the awkwardness creep into the air. This was the longest you had been in a room with him, at least, with no one around.

Glancing at the watch on your wrist, you took note of your 'shift' being almost over. It was a quarter to seven, your freedom lingering in the distance.

"Sir?"

"Enough!" He cut out, breaking his silence. You jumped at the words, ducking your head as his outburst came. This was the Steve you knew, the short tempered boss who was always so moody whenever things didn't go his way.

You opted for silence, not daring to speak as you awaited his next choice of words.

His arm left his face, palm running down his features as he stared into the ceiling of the trailer.

"Sorry, I just," his voice was significantly lower. He sat up on the edge of the couch, his palms resting on his thighs. "I just need you to take me home."

Your eyes closed briefly, irritation quickly crossing you as you realized this was going to be a longer day than you imagined. If Steve had needed you longer than you were scheduled, then so be it.

"Why?" The word wasn't supposed to come out, replacing the 'okay' that sat on the edge of your mouth.

His gaze cut to you quickly, searching your face as you stood there. Eyes burning slightly, you felt tears prickling. The pint of Ben & Jerry's ice cream, and Friends rerun marathon looking further away from you could bring you to tears.

"Because I employ you, do I not?" The harshness in his words did nothing but fuel the 'Hollywood Tell All' feature you planned for the day you quit.

"You do, sir, yes," You muttered, hands dropping to your side in defeat. "I just thought you'd drive yourself like normal. You know, day ends, and I'll see you here the next day, eight sharp like normal."

"I can't--no," he answered, standing up as he gathered his things. "I don't have to explain myself to you. You just need to take me home. You can drive my car."

The words to protest him were lost in your throat. You complied with his actions, eyes to the floor as he finished gathering his things. Following him out of the trailer, you sighed, feeling like you were walking into a lion's den.

The walk to the private lot was silent, Steve grumbling to himself as he texted someone on his phone. You noticed his phone ringing several times, his thumb finding the red button to end it each time. Curse words came out of his mouth every few seconds, a few from your own mouth being added to the mix as you thought of ways to leave.

As the two of you came across an old school beemer sitting deep in the parking lot, he threw the keys at you, settling into the passenger seat. Reluctantly, you slide in the driver's seat, feeling the leather interior beneath your fingers.

"Nice car, boss," You whispered, checking out how the car didn't even look a day out of 1985. Steve side eyed you, nodding at the compliment before returning to his phone.

"Get us there in one piece, yeah?"

You sucked your teeth as his comment, shaking your head before starting the car. It was like it was impossible for him to be a decent person. Here you were, doing something for this man which may or may not be in your contract, and he couldn't even say thank you to a compliment about his car.

The ride was silent save for an old tape that played in the car. Some band from the 80's you noted, a little too old for your taste. Steve's fingers tapped away at his phone, not focused on the LA traffic you sat in for most of the drive. He gave you directions to his swanky high rise, ignored you as you struggled to keep up with him.

You pulled into an underground garage, valet men coming immediately, opening the door for you as they took the keys. Everything happened in such fast motion, you barely noticed he was half way to the elevator. Jogging to catch up with him, you turned your own attention to your phone, thumb hovering over the Uber app.

Steve took a call, fingers rapidly pressing the elevator button as he spoke (yelled) at the person on the other end.

"No, Robin, I'm not doing that, okay?" He said, voice gruff as he glanced at you. You heard the static voice of the person on the other line, seeming to be yelling at him too.

The elevator dinged, the two of your bodies stepping in as the doors opened. The transportation app on your phone lagged, loading bar stagnant on your screen.

"No, I get it, it's been years. Fine, I-" Steve groaned in frustration, eyes repeatedly shifting over to you as you tried to tune out the phone call. You stared at the numbers the elevator passed, the first floor blinking by before you could say anything. Your phone remain in your hand, screen dimming as it began to time out.

"Robin. I know."

The voice on the other line picked up, the woman's voice growing even louder. Steve pulled the phone away from his ear slightly, grimacing at the volume. The elevator stopped at a floor labeled 'P', doors opening to a mini lobby that ended in double doors. He went over to unlock them, key fob in his hands as a beep sounded through the empty room.

As he stepped through them, phone balanced on his shoulder with his ear pressed to it, he looked at you. You stood right outside the elevator, doors closing behind you as you didn't know what to do.

He held open his front door, hand waving at you in frustration. "Well, are you coming in?"

You pressed your lips together, another wave of irritation pulling at your teeth. Eyes half rolling, you nodded, entering the doors as he closed and locked it behind you.

Steve moved fast, throwing his jacket over a couch that lay in the middle of the giant room, toeing off his shoes by its side. You stood in place, not sure what to do as your boss made his way around his home.

You took note of the place, not picturing that he would live in a place like this. It was modern, with a touch of old school fashion. Retro furniture, expensive nonetheless. Floor to ceiling windows, overlooking the city. However, not a touch of life, no personal pictures, no sign of family, or anything personal that may shine light on what type of person he truly was.

You stepped in further to the place, watching as Steve made his way to a cabinet in his kitchen. Observing him over the breakfast bar, you saw into the open kitchen, watched him as he grabbed a rocks glass and a bottle of something pushed far back into a cabinet.

He continued on the phone, placing it on speaker as he began to open the bottle. He struggled at first, face turning up as his hands twisted on the cap.

Slowly making your way around the room, you glanced around, expecting him to yell at you for even being here, despite inviting you in.

"Steve," you heard the voice on the other line say. His eyes drifted towards the phone, pouring a hefty shot. "All I'm saying is, I miss you. And care for you. I love you. I want you to be okay today, alright?"

Steve grunted in response, not noticing your proximity to him. You cleared your throat slightly, wanting to gain his attention.

The woman on the phone waited for more of a response. Once it was clear she wasn't going to get one, she sighed. "If you change your mind, you know where to find us."

"Yeah sure," his tone was rude, eyes boring into the glass of dark liquid that sat in front of him. His fingers danced at the rim.

"Eddie would've wanted you to come."

Steve's body language immediately stiffened, finger moving to hang up the phone before throwing back the shot of liquor. His face grimaced at the taste, slamming the glass back on the table.

You didn't know what to say, looking anywhere but at your boss.

"Fuck, I forgot you were even here," he suddenly said, hand running through his hair. His hand was on his hip, eyes glossy as he looked at you. You chewed at your bottom lip, nodding as he stared at you. He pointed to the alcohol, shrugging. "Drink?"

Declining, your head shook. "I don't drink, sir."

"Ahh," he said, grabbing the glass and bottle as he headed towards the couch. "Good girl."

He threw himself down on the furniture, exhaling loudly as he stretched out. His eyes were closed as you stood across the room.

"Hey, I-I think I'm gonna go," you said, beginning to walk towards the exit. "I'll see you tomorrow."

As you crossed the room, Steve's voice called out to you. Your movements stopped, turning on your heel to look at him.

"Stay?" He asked you, eyes huge as they looked in your direction. You took note of his features, blinking at him as he awaited your response. Your boss was approaching his 40's, however, in this moment, he looked just like a little kid. Pictures of him in his teen years you had seen on the Internet were pushed to the forefront of your mind.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Mr. Harrington," you muttered, wanting to leave the scene.

His eyes fell to the floor briefly before he spoke out, "Steve."

"Huh?" You were confused, this sudden change in his attitude.

"You can call me Steve," he said, shifting his body as he relaxed into the couch. "We've known each other for a few years now, figured we should might as well be on a first name basis."

Fighting back the eye roll, you were reminded in the ways your boss had made your life into chaos.

"I bet you a million dollars, you don't even know my name, sir."

His gaze softened, laughing out loud as your hard exterior slowly came back.

"Yn." He muttered, smile dancing at his mouth.

You didn't know what to say, stuck between dashing out of his apartment or staying and seeing what type of Steve Harrington you were going to get today.

"I figure I should apologize for the way I've acted today," he said, turning forward as his gaze left your way. You didn't know why, but your feet followed it, walking closer so you could sit next to him. Lowering your self on the couch, you felt self conscious, like he was going to snap any second.

You snorted, "Today?"

He was staring at the bottle of alcohol in front of him, smile still on his face. Laughing at your comment, he shrugged.

"I have been a dick, haven't I?" He whispered, shaking his head as the smile slowly dropped from his face. His voice dropped to a whisper, eyes unfocused as he stared in front of himself. "Such a fucking dick."

You didn't know why, but you felt the need to comfort the man. He was clearly going through something at the moment, if the look alone on his face was any tell.

"Hey, not too bad of one," you wanted to reach out to grab him.

"Don't lie," he laughed, head turning your way. His eyes met yours, deep brown staring into the color of yours. You noticed moles dotting his face, slight lines of aging covering his features. He was still youthful, his eyes telling the tale of a once young boy who was within. "I've been terrible. And you don't deserve that."

A pang hit your heart, feeling the weight of his words. You didn't really deserve his treatment. No matter if he paid you or not.

He continued his words, eyes staring past you. "And yet here I am, sitting here with my assistant. Drinking for the first time in years." A laugh bubbled out of him, hands running down his face as he leaned further back into the couch. "You know I'm supposed to be in Indiana right now?"

You shook your head, not wanting to interrupt him. Making yourself comfortable, you took off your shoes, slipping your feet underneath yourself.

"Well, I'm supposed to be in Indiana, it's the 20th anniversary of, uhm," his voice cracked, eyes welling up with a tear that was blinked back. "It's the anniversary of one of my friend's dying, and I'm not there."

Breath catching in your throat, you didn't know what to say.

"I'm sorry, sir," you muttered, hand reaching out to rest at his thigh. The touch was inappropriate, but so was this interaction you could say.

He looked down at your hand, watching your thumb as it brushed over his jeans.

"It's okay," he responded, eyes finding yours again. "It's been so long."

You nodded, eyes scanning his face as he forced the corners of his mouth to be turned into a smile. You saw right through it, recognizing the pain of a lost loved one straight through. "I don't think that matters."

His face dropped, sincerity crossing his features as he dipped to glance at your hand once more. Silence over took the two of you, the faint sounds of the streets of LA below you, Steve's staggered breathing as he willed himself not to cry. You were patient, finding comfort in the air as he found his words.

"We were all so young, and it feels so long ago, almost like it doesn't exist anymore," he finally said, voice even. "But I know it does. I just have to face it, I've been running from it ever since it happened."

He gestured to his surroundings, and the puzzle clicked into place. This fame and jerk persona that Steve carried himself in, hid the real him. He ran from all of his problems, like anyone else would, especially when dealing with something as traumatic like he had.

You didn't know the details, didn't care to ask, since it seemed to affect him so much. All you knew was that person who had passed so long ago did matter to him, in ways that you couldn't imagine.

Letting him continue his mumblings about the person he used to know, you found out that his name had been Eddie, the one you heard on the phone before. Robin, long time best friend of his, was trying to get him to come out to reconnect with everyone, he hadn't seen much of them since the 'accident', as he had called it. He kept in touch with everyone over the phone, but seeing them in person was a whole different story. It opened up old wounds that he was afraid of what it might bring out.

The story was slightly confusing, him mentioning something about how they all had nearly lost their lives, details that would leave you wondering what this man had gone through. None of this information was available about him in the public, his childhood always being a vague story that never connected.

"So you have kids then?" You questioned, confused on how you never picked up on this detail. There had to have been at least five of them, names you had never heard before now.

Steve laughed suddenly, shaking his head as his hand rested on your own thigh. The two of you were much closer now, as his story unfolded. Your thighs were touching, each other's hands on resting upon each other, mere inches away from your faces.

"No, I don't have any. I guess, I should stop calling them kids now, you know?" His laugh was low in his throat. "They have kids of their own at this point, so they're far from it."

"Oh..." You were dumbfounded, all of this information being at a loss to you. You weren't here to understand, just here to listen.

"You know what, I'm sorry," he suddenly said, removing his hand from your leg. You wanted to whine at the absence, cold replacing his warm touch. "Maybe you should go, actually. This is pretty, uhm..."

"Unprofessional?" You supplied, inching closer as your boss sat there, wide eyed looking at you. In the dark light of his apartment, you could see the way his brown eyes glimmered at you. "I guess we're even then, me calling you a twat earlier."

Steve cackled, pinching the bridge of his nose as he thought of the events earlier.

"I knew you said that!"

You blushed, fighting back your own smile.

"It's not my fault, you were acting like one." Your lips pursed together, observing the older man in front of you.

Silence crept over you, the first break in conversation since his phone call ended earlier. Steve stared at you, eyes darting over your features as his teeth scraped over his bottom lip. You felt shy under his gaze, not knowing what to think of the moment as your boss was closer in proximity than he had ever been in your life.

"Can I make it up to you?"

His voice was low, and you were nodding before you even knew what he meant. Grabbing your cheek in his hand, the man leaned forward, capturing your lips into his. The gasp in your throat was lost in his mouth, a shuttering moan coming out instead.

His lips were soft, slightly chapped as they moved against yours. Fluttering your eyes closed, you leaned into the kiss, moving your hand so it rest at the curve of his hip, belt loop curling in your fingers.

He tasted of whiskey, the remnants of the few shots he had earlier lingering on his tongue. Steve pulled away slightly, muttering, "This okay?" against your lips as you nodded, pulling him in by his hair with your other hand.

Your breath grew more shallow as the kiss continued, leaning back as Steve began to tower over you. He shifted in his seat, covering your body with his own as he began to push you back into the couch. His figure was large over yours, scent of vanilla and cedar nearly suffocating you.

With your back flush against the couch, Steve removed himself from your lips, pressing a slight kiss against your jaw. You arched into the touch, palms running over the tight muscle of his back.

"S-steve," you moaned, squeezing your eyes shut as his lips kissed over your neck. Each press of his mouth sent fireworks down your spine.

He returned his lips to yours, moving with a passion that was lacking previously, confidence replacing the apprehension he once felt.

Your legs spread, inviting him to nestle in between, the thick material of his jeans rubbing against your own. A bulge was present, the thought of what lay underneath sending goosebumps over your skin.

Steve was lost in the kiss, his mouth nipping at yours as he reached down to unbutton your pants, slipping a hand to run over the front of your panties.

"W-wait," you muttered, grabbing his wrist as you pulled away from the kiss. He was confused, mouth red and swollen. His fingers pressed at your covered clit, a small shot of pleasure running through you.

"What's wrong, Yn?" The hand connected to his elbow that propped him up, ran through your hair, tucking a strand behind your ear. Concern crossed his features, searching your face as doubt crossed it.

"I just, uhh," you felt shy, avoiding his eye contact as the words stumbled out. "I've never really done this before?"

His eyes bulged out, sitting up suddenly as he leaned over you. Closing your eyes in embarrassment, you pressed the palm of your hand to your forehead. Way to ruin the moment.

"Oh," he breathed, eyes wide as he scanned you. "We don't-- fuck, sorry. I'm so, uh, wow."

He stood up suddenly, leaving you laying on your back as embarrassment colored your cheeks. You didn't know what to say as the older man panicked.

"Maybe, uh, maybe this was a bad idea," he shook his head, hand reaching down to palm at the front of his pants. Your eyes followed his hand, noticing the prominent bulge.

You spoke out, shaking your head as you didn't make any effort to move. The turn of events tonight made you realize how much you did want the man who stood before you.

"No, we can, it's okay," you said, reaching out to grab his hand that hung by his side. He looked down at your grasp before bringing his eyes to meet yours. "It's alright."

He hesitated, sputtering over something to say.

"Steve, it's okay," you pulled him down, his knees straddling the sides of your hips as he reluctantly settled into the couch. His eyes ran over your body, lingering at the spot where your pants were unbuttoned, cotton panties exposed.

"A-are you sure?" He questioned, moving to lean back down over you. You nodded, leaning up on your elbows to press a chaste kiss to his lips. His tongue darted out, wetting your bottom lip.

A breathy moan escaped your mouth, palm caressing the front of his shirt.

"I want to, it's fine."

You knew it was now or never, this moment with your boss being an opportunity that you couldn't have passed up. You always had a crush on him growing up, the face of Hollywood you would see in your teen magazines, posters covering the room of your friends. Working for him would've never had you imagining that it would lead to this moment.

Steve took control of the situation, kissing down your neck as his hand returned between your legs, pants thrown across the room somewhere. It had happened so fast, you barely noticed the cool air that pulled goosebumps from your skin.

"Tell me if you want to stop, okay?" He muttered, freshly shaved stubble prickling against your chin. You could barely get out a moan as your underwear was pulled down your legs, catching at the crook of your ankles.

You felt his fingers brush over your folds, pressing lightly at the slick entrance. His thumb rubbed in small circles over your small bundle of nerves, an eye-rolling feeling that spread your legs apart. His fingers pushed inside, his own moan coming out over yours.

The feeling of the intrusion had you panting, spreading your legs wider while his thick fingers worked you.

"M-more," you begged, throwing your head back as his fingers found a rhythm. He stretched you out over two fingers at this point, thumb collecting slick as it rubbed over your clit.

Steve's fingers curled inside of you, brushing against your sweet spot deep inside. The look on his face was one of admiration, mouth slack as he looked down at you falling apart under his touch.

"That's okay?" His voice was husky, deep with arousal as your hips began to move in time with his fingers. Your orgasm was approaching, hips moving on their own accord as you chased that high.

"God, yes, Steve."

Pushing your shirt up past your bra, Steve gaped at the sight before him, your fingers dipping inside your bra to toy at your own breasts.

"You look so perfect, angel," he muttered, leaning down to capture your lips into his as you fell apart. That white blinding of your orgasm crept in, starting at the base of your spine and blossoming through your entire body. Against his mouth, you shouted out, squeezing your eyes shut as he fingered you through the high.

It took a minute for you to catch your breath, legs spasming from the shocks of the orgasm. You hissed at the over stimulation, Steve pressing into your clit one last time before removing himself from you.

You felt shy suddenly, the haze from the orgasm clearing as you realized you had just done unimaginable things with your boss. Seeming to read your mind, Steve pressed small kisses around the perimeter of your face.

"It's alright," he said, hovering over you. Against your thigh, you could feel his bulge rub against you. "How are you feeling, good?"

You nodded, words at a loss in your throat. You reached up to place a hand on his neck, the other at his waist as you played with the hem of his shirt. His eyes fluttered close briefly before glancing down at where you were slightly tugging his shirt up.

He made eye contact with you, chewing on his bottom lip. "I need words, angel. Gotta make sure everything is 100% okay, okay?"

"I'm alright, Steve," you gasped, looking down where your own hand rubbed at the exposed part of his abdomen. You needed more, wanted to feel him all over you. You began to pull his shirt over his body, watching as he glanced down at you with hooded eyes. "Just need more of you."

He slowly nodded, sitting back on his knees as he unbuttoned his own pants and slid them down his legs. You giggled at him as he struggled to get them off, the smoothness he had previously disappearing as he nearly toppled off the couch.

You pulled your own shirt and bra off of you, dropping them on the floor next to the couch. "Nice own, old man," you laughed, returning to your spot against the couch.

He frowned at you, lip jutting out in an over exaggerated pout. "Heeyy, I still got it."

You were left breathless, the laughter disappearing at the tip of your tongue as his figure returned to cover your body. The tip of his cock nudged at your entrance, the wetness pooling at the head leaving you gasping.

Steve reached down to rub his cock against the length of your cunt, spreading the slick all over as you arched into him.

"Fuuckk, Steve." You hooked your ankle over his hip, warmness pooling in your belly at the thought of him being inside you. His eyes raked over you, lingering on your nipples as they shook with each moan you gave.

"You sure about this, Yn?" He asked, leaning down to dart his tongue over the skin of your breast. It sent shivers down your spine, another wave of heat rushing to your core. "I don't want to do anything you'll regret."

"'M not gonna regret this," you gasped, feeling the way the head of his cock slightly pushed at you. It burned, fuck, he was big.

The slight intrusion had you gripping at his back, leaving crescent moon marks in the skin. Your breath came out ragged, a whine scratching at the back of your throat.

Steve grunted at you, pushing in slowly as he buried his head into your shoulder. He stopped every few inches, hips stuttering slightly as he fought back to urge to fuck back into you full force.

Being an all new feeling, you couldn't help but mewl at every burn of the stretch, a fullness you had never experienced before.

He pressed to the hilt, hips flush against yours as Steve gasped for air in tune with you. He pulled his head back to make eye contact with you, forehead resting against yours. You felt the slight grinding of his hips against yours, the fullness becoming too much as you were stretched over him.

"You gotta bare with me, baby." The nickname had you moaning, fingers reaching down to dig at the plumpness of his ass. You could barely keep your eyes open, senses overwhelmed with Steve. "'S been a while for me."

Nodding, you gasped as he reared his hips back before they stuttered into you again. The movement sent a wave of slick between your thighs again, pleasure blinding you.

He found his rhythm, hips fucking into you slowly, languidly as you fell apart beneath him. You rocked with every movement of his hips, hands running over the tan skin of his body above you.

Finding his lips, you moaned against his mouth, savoring the feeling that was building up in your abdomen as the two of you moved in sync.

Steve gave you words of affirmation, hips drilling into you over and over as his cock brushed over your deep bundle of nerves. Bliss approached you once more, wetness dripping all over him as you were brought to that high again.

"Gonna cum, Steve," you whispered against his mouth, back arching into him. He reached down between you, fingers toying at your clit as they began to rub in small circles.

"Cum for me baby," he breathed, voice low as your eyes rolled back. His voice brought you over the edge, high shout escaping your lips as that pleasure took over you again.

As he fucked your through your orgasm, his own approached, hips losing their rhythm as you felt his release deep inside you. A low groan of his came out, a breathy fuck being the last thing you remember before you closed your eyes.

Your body felt light, head foggy as you came down from your orgasm. It was pure bliss what you felt, heart pounding in your chest as sleep took over you.

You shot out of bed, frantically searching for your phone as you realized the sun was creeping through the curtains. Crisp, white sheets were pooled around you, swallowing you up whole.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you muttered, trying to search for your device in the darkness of the room. The dark curtains were drawn, only allowing a sliver of light in, but enough for you to realize how late in the morning it was.

As your eyes adjusted to the darkness, anxiety crept over you, realizing you weren't in your room. A tossing figure lay next to you, his body half covered as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. In that moment, everything from last night came crashing back, embarrassment flooding your cheeks.

"Hey, Yn, what's wrong?" Steve's voice was groggy, as he blinked in the darkness of the room. He glanced towards the curtains and then to you, noticing the way you covered your frame with the corner of the sheet.

"What time is it?" You half shouted, looking on the bedside table for your phone. Steve was no help, slowly stretching out his limbs as he yawned.

"Too fucking early for you to be that loud," he muttered, sitting up on his elbows. The sheet pooled around his waist, exposing his bare abdomen and a deep V that cut below his waist.

You quickly looked away, blush deepening on your face. "We have to go, Ste-Mr. Harrington. We're gonna be in so much trouble."

You heard him chuckle at you, sighing as he relaxed once again in the bed. His arms circled your waist, pulling you down into him as you continued to panic. He lay behind you, your head resting on his chest as he buried his face into your shoulder.

"Shhh," he whispered, tightening his grip on your waist. "Called in today, came down with something apparently."

You shook your head, resting your hands on his where they rested on your stomach. "Can you even do that?"

"What are they gonna do? Fire me?" He laughed, pressing a light kiss to your shoulder. The anxiety that built up in your spine disappeared at his touch, the familiarity of his body replacing it. You turned in his arms, now chest to chest with the man.

His eyes were closed, sleepiness still evident over his features.

"Are you going to fire me?" You whispered at him, watching as his brow furrowed before he squinted open his eyes at you.

"What? No, what are you talking about?" He seemed genuinely confused at your question, hand rubbing at your waist. Relief took stake in your chest.

"I slept with my boss last night," you laughed at yourself, voice dropping even lower as you saw a smirk cross his face. He was smug, shaking his head with laughter as you playfully slapped at his chest.

"Pretty sure I'm the one with a lawsuit pending if anything," he said, laughter dying as you placed a small peck to his lips.

As you pulled away, he leaned into it further, tongue darting out to lick at yours. A wave of arousal pooled in the pit of your stomach.

He towered over you, mouth nipping at you as you sighed into the kiss. The two of you moved in sync, you moving onto your back as Steve leaned over your figure. A breathy moan escaped your lips, only to be cut off by his phone ringing.

"For fuck's sake," he grumbled, separating himself from you as he reached for it on his side of the bed. He answered it quickly, realizing it was his publicist as he placed it on speaker. "What d'you need, man?"

His lips returned to yours briefly, before kissing down your neck. The sheets were slowly pulled off of you as he made his way down, nipping at your chest, then your nipple, and soft kisses pressed to your stomach.

Your mouth fell open in a silent moan, trying to stay as quiet as possible as his publicist droned on about some appearance he had to make in the next week. Steve was staring up at you, making small confirmation 'mhm's' in response to the phone call. A coy smile was on the corners of your mouth as you looked down at him wide eyed.

'Stop' you mouthed through gritted teeth. He nipped at your hip bone in protest, shaking his head at you.

You couldn't tell if it was Steve's mouth pressing to your heat or the next word's of his publicist that made your stomach drop.

"While we're at it, Steve, how about we talk how Page Six has pictures of you with a mysterious somebody in your apartment building?" They grumbled, voice staticy as it came through the phone. You felt Steve smirk against you, tongue lapping between your legs. "Aren't we a little too old to bring people back to your own place like that?"

A moan escaped you as you gripped at his hair. Steve looked up at you, wide eyed as he reached up to slap a hand across your mouth. 'Shhh', he mouthed, his own laugh threatening to spill out as his publicist's voice faltered at the noise.

"St-steve?" It said, apprehension in the tone. "Are you doing what I think you're doing? Really, man?"

Steve laughed as his hand remained over your mouth, muffling the sounds of your own laughter. They would recognize it if they heard it. He grabbed the phone from where it lay abandon, speaking into it as his thumb hovered the 'end call'.

"Something came up, gotta take care of it," he grimaced at you as you licked his hand. "Bye!"

He hung up right as the voice protested, tossing his phone aside as he leaned over you once again. His long hair hung in his face, eyes raking over your naked body.

"Now... where were we?"

an: I had to sneak in a line from All of Us Strangers because that movie was so moving. If you know, you know. I promise one of these days, I won't make Steve an asshole right off the bat, he'll be lovable.

masterlist. inbox and requests are open!

[insidekatmind]

The End~Jude Bellingham x reader (feat.Jonathan Daviss)

You’re sitting on the bed, your hands trembling as you clutch your phone. Jude is across the room, his face locked in an expression you barely recognize. The love that once united you feels like a distant memory, suffocated by glittering nights, applause, and trophies.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you whisper, your voice breaking as you try to hold back the tears threatening to spill.

Jude runs a hand through his hair, his gaze evasive. “What do you want from me? I’m doing my best!”

“Your best?” you repeat, incredulous. “You don’t even look at me the way you used to. All that matters to you now is football, Real Madrid, your image. I... I don’t exist in your life anymore.”

He scoffs, as if your words are a burden. “That’s not true. But you don’t understand the pressure I’m under. I have responsibilities.”

“And me?” your voice rises, pain spilling out. “Don’t I matter? When was the last time you asked me how I was? When did you actually listen to how I felt?”

Jude stays silent, and that silence speaks louder than any words could. There’s nothing left to say. You stand, gathering your things with shaky hands.

“Goodbye, Jude,” you say, your voice breaking. You expect him to stop you, to say something, anything. But he doesn’t.

---

Six months have passed. You’ve changed. You’re no longer the insecure girl who needed approval. Now, you’re a singer the world is beginning to notice. The success of your latest single, Older, has catapulted you into the spotlight, and the lyrics are a gut punch to anyone who knows how to read between the lines.

“All I needed was someone who truly saw me, someone who treated me the way I deserved. Were you ever really that person?”

The song is everywhere. Jude can’t avoid it, no matter how hard he tries. Every time he turns on the radio, he hears your voice, each word a dagger to his chest. But what’s eating him even more are your social media posts.

In one of your latest photos, you’re with Jonathan Daviss, the actor from Outer Banks. The two of you are close, his smile radiant, his hand casually placed on your waist—a proximity that seems too natural to be accidental. And the caption doesn’t help.

“A man who knows how to treat a woman. 🌹”

Jude sees the photo, and it sets his blood boiling. Jonathan.He can’t get him out of his head.

“I can’t stand it,” he mutters to Vinicius, sitting next to him during practice.

“Who?” Vinicius asks with a smirk. “Ah, you mean your ex? I saw the photo. Nice shot, don’t you think?”

Jude shoots him a glare that could kill.

---

You’re at an event, a music awards ceremony. You’re wearing an elegant black dress that hugs every curve with class and grace. Jonathan is by your side, his arm casually draped across your back. You’re there to accept an award for your song, and the entire room is watching you with admiration.

But among all the eyes on you, there’s one gaze you feel the most. Jude is there. He wasn’t invited, but someone brought him as a special guest. You notice him immediately: he looks flawless, but there’s something in his eyes that makes you feel vulnerable.

After the ceremony, as you make your way to the bar, you find him there. He’s leaning against the counter, a glass of something amber in his hand. You approach him, not because you want to, but because you feel like you have no other choice.

“Congratulations,” he says, his voice lower than you remember. “Your song... It’s powerful.”

“Thanks,” you reply coldly, trying to maintain your composure.

Jude looks at you intensely, the pain evident in his eyes. “It’s about me, isn’t it?”

You smile, but it’s a bitter smile. “If you think it’s about you, maybe you should ask yourself why.”

He takes a step closer, lowering his voice. “I know I messed up. I know I lost you because I was... blind, stupid. But I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“This isn’t the time for those words, Jude,” you cut him off, searching for Jonathan in the crowd.

But Jude doesn’t back down. “He doesn’t know you like I do. He doesn’t love you like I do.”

“And how would you know?” you challenge, feeling anger rising. “Jonathan treats me like a queen. Something you never did.”

Jude stays silent for a moment, then takes a deep breath. “Maybe you’re right. But I can’t accept it. I can’t accept that it’s over between us.”

His words hit you, but you’re unsure of what you feel. All you know is that you’ve changed, and maybe, just maybe, you no longer want to be the girl who needs saving. Perhaps this time, it’s up to you to decide what you really want.

[glamourscat]

TAKE ONE | actor! TIM DRAKE x actor! reader

rivals to ..? | pt 1? | gn! reader

“How can you not understand?” Tim yelled at you, his voice rising above the relentless rain pouring down on both of you.

“I love you. I am so madly, pathetically, in love with you. And yet, you keep running back to him. Back to that damned jerk, over and over again. While me— I’m… your stupid best friend,” his voice cracked, raw and vulnerable.

“I’ve always been here, and you know that. Every late night holding you while you cried, every single t—” His words broke off as your lips collided with his, cutting him off with the force of something long overdue. Something he had dreamed of for months, no, years.

His hands moved instinctively to your waist, pulling you closer. The kiss was hungry yet soft, an overwhelming intensity that sent shivers down his spine. Goosebumps on his skin.

“And… cut!” the director’s voice broke through the moment, followed by an applause from the crew. “Great job, everyone. That’s the last scene for today. Go get changed. Meeting in room 2 in an hour.”

The crew began dismantling the props, the artificial rain stopped and the two of you stood there, still drenched, now with an awkward distance between you.

It wasn’t that he hated you. But he couldn’t stand you either. He’d been in this industry since he was a kid, nepotism, some would say. But haters will always be haters. Not his fault he was born loaded. Still, now at 23 he found himself needing more substantial roles. Filled with drama and twists. And, of course, his on-screen love interest had to be you.

The same person who keeps stealing Golden Globes right out of his grasp. Award after award, casting roles, and even his damn agent. So, no. He didn’t hate you. But, if he had to describe you, he would probably say you’re that annoying itch under your skin that not matter how much you scratch it, never really leaves.

Yet… there was something about you. Maybe it was the constant bickering that spilled from the script into your daily interactions. Maybe it was the fact that this kiss scene had taken six exhausting takes, but he couldn’t stop thinking about your lips on his.

And though he refused to admit it, he was beginning to crave this feeling. That terrified him.

“Why are you following me?” he asked flatly, his back still to you as you trailed behind him. “Your trailer’s on the other side,” he added, his tone deliberately detached.

“I told you this morning, but you never listen,” you scoffed. “My trailer’s out of order. There’s a leak in the bathroom, so they moved some of my stuff into yours for now.”

He stopped, turning to face you. His expression flickered between annoyance and disbelief.

“And there was no other trailer they could put you in?”

“Obviously not,” you replied, sarcasm dripping from your tone.

He scoffed, resuming his pace as you followed. When he reached his trailer, he stepped inside without a backward glance, immediately peeling off his soaked clothes.

“Come in, close the door, but don’t lock it otherwise we get stuck in.” he said nonchalantly, walking around in nothing but his boxers

“You have no decency,” you muttered, rolling your eyes as you stepped in.

He smirked, glancing over his shoulder. His blue eyes trialing over your figure. “You’ve seen me in far less, considering the other scenes we had to shoot. Don’t be such a prude.”

“It’s not about being a prude. You’re just…, never mind. Jerk.” you grumbled under your breath, pulling off your drenched clothes too.

He turned, and his smirk widened. “Well, that’s a choice,” he teased, eyeing your Batman underwear, barely concealing his laugh.

“If you say anything, I swear, you’re done for,” you warned, trying not to laugh yourself.

He raised his hands in mock surrender, a chuckle slipping past his lips. “Whatever you say,” he hummed, turning back to dry himself off.

But in his mind, he was already storing this moment away for future need. Oh, he was absolutely going to use this against you one day.

Pt2? 👀

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