#the director x reader

[emeritus-fuckers]

Ohhh the Direct headcannons were so good!!Thank you for feeding me,but I would like to know what do you think he would be like if he was a yandere

The Director as a yandere

TW: mentions of suicide.

He/him pronouns used for the Director.

You know how in DND vampires can't love, the most they can do is obsess? (All my DND knowledge comes from people explaining things in Baldur's Gate 3 with actual DND lore on TikTok btw)

Yeah, he's no exception. He might only be a dhampir, but it's still a thing with him. He doesn't love.

In all fairness, he doesn't really obssess at first, either. You're just one his many puppets.

He pulls on your strings, ruins you, has fun.

And then he plans to discard you, just like all the rest.

Somehow, though, you managed to keep his attention. Not on purpose, of course, but you've made yourself... entertaining.

And so he decided to keep messing with you until he got bored of you.

Except... he didn't. He just got more and more into messing with you.

Eventually, he just... becomes a prominent figure in your life. A life that he chose to make very... entertaining.

Entertaining for him, naturally. For your side of things, a better term would be fucking miserable.

He basically pushes you to the very limit, almost driving you to end it all because of how bad he made it.

And then he actually makes an appearance. He allows you to see him. Not as your tormentor, but as a savior.

He builds you up, just like he burned you down.

And he still pulls the strings behind your back, making you miserable.

Naturally, you end up clinging to him more and more.

And he'll keep it that way, as long as your reactions are amusing enough.

If they stop keeping his interest, he relishes in destroying you completely.

He even visits your funeral, just to chuckle and leave you in the ground.

In a few weeks, he won't even remember your name.

~

Written by Nosferatu.

[ibelieveinvillainsupremacy]

Slithers in here....Hello I heard Halloween Horror Nights fandom....can I maybe get some director x reader headcons :0

OF COURSE YOU CANN

Here's a bunch of headcanons of the pretty boi <33

🎥 As soon as he realises his feelings for you, he will be absolutely obsessed, the type to either accidentally or on purpose (knowing him, most likely the second one) talk of you any time he has the chance 🎥 Even when interacting with "his actors"? Even when he's making a new movie, scene or just spending time without you close? 🎥Yes. He wouldn't explicitly say your name, but either call you my darling, or even better my masterpiece. 🎥Because even if you never participated in one of his productions, Paulo definitely thinks of you like the best thing to ever exist. 🎥Not very touchy in public, but he would be more clingy when you are alone. 🎥He's a flirter. Always been, always will. Gets atleast once a day very flirty, and would try to make you a blushing mess when you two are together, across the room 🎥While you are watching him doing what he loves the most, seeing those cold and unnerving eyes shine brightly is something that you always love to see. 🎥Loves holding hands with you, because he finds your warm touch against his icey skin one of the best feelings in the world. 🎥He could also let you touch his camera, if you ask nicely... 🎥But he would always say yes, because he absolutely adores you, and there's nothing that could make him say no to you. 🎥Very good kisser. Do I know it for sure? No. But just look at him and tell me he's not a good kisser! Come on! 🎥If he ever has to go to another studio, like he did some time ago, will find a way to get you there too, because he can't stay alone with you for a whole day, imagine for more time? No, he would get another fake Id, or simply put you in a giant suitcase (Imagine the scene lmaooo), or he wouldn't go. 🎥Doesn't get flustered very easily, but you are probably the first one that could make him blush 🎥And lastly... making out in the bathtub UHMM- 🎥He wouldn't stop avoiding eye contact with you for nothing, not even if he finds the perfect subject for his movies. He is the definition of 🎥"Stop looking at me with those eyes." 🎥"What eyes, my masterpiece?"

[adalwolfgang]

Ok so this maybe suuuuupeer ooc but I currently been sick/ been through a really shitty situation recently and was wondering some director hcs of him taking care of someone in his own weird backwards way LMAO

The Director [Paulo Ravinski] | Uzdrav sa skoro

"Do not worry, moja hviezda. You will shine bright again."

Translation (from google): "Uzdrav sa skoro" → "Get well soon"

Tag list: @lonleydweller

Instead of offering sympathy, he sees your pain as a compelling story. He might document your suffering with his film camera, muttering about “raw emotion” and “genuine distress”, not out of cruelty, but because he believes hardship creates true art. However, after a while, he lowers the camera and, in a rare moment of sincerity, murmurs, “Do not worry, moja hviezda. You will shine bright again.”

If you’re sick, he demands you stay in bed, not out of kindness, but because “the body must be preserved for its final performance.” He’ll pace around your shared room like a neurotic director, making sure you “follow the script” (aka resting). If you try to get up too soon, he gives you an unimpressed look, forcing you to lay back down and warns, “Uzdrav sa sko.” It sounds like an order rather than encouragement.

Expect strange herbal concoctions, foreign medicines, or even unsettling treatments like cupping therapy because he read somewhere that “suffering must be drawn out like poison.” He watches you drink the odd-tasting brew with the same intensity as when he’s waiting for the perfect shot, nodding when you finally swallow it. “Good,” he says. “You are committed to the role.” He’ll also go to Albert for advice if he notices you aren’t getting any better.

He’s not the comforting type, but he’s always nearby. Sitting in a chair in the corner, watching with that unsettling intensity, taking mental notes, making sure you stay alive and well. It’s creepy, but oddly reassuring.

If you refuse to eat, he won’t take no for an answer. He won’t spoon-feed you (unless you physically cannot feed yourself), but he places food in front of you with the ominous expectation that you will eat it. Maybe it’s simple soup, maybe it’s an elaborate, foreign dish he says is good for “endurance.” Either way, there’s no escaping it. He won’t move until you take a few bites. “Even the strongest actors must sustain themselves,” he reminds you.

At some point, he sits beside you and reads to you a cryptic, philosophical book about how suffering forges the strongest individuals. “The weak perish. The strong endure. Like you. You… you are meant to endure.” His voice is firm, unwavering, like he’s willing your survival into existence.

If someone else hurt you, oh boy, he sees that as an unforgivable offense. Not because he’s particularly sentimental, but because “only I control the suffering in my productions.” Whoever wronged you? They just became the next star of his next film… and that’s never a good thing.

If you’re vulnerable, he becomes oddly territorial. He won’t outright say he cares, but his actions, subtly positioning himself between you and others, ensuring you’re not disturbed, keeping an eerie watch over your surroundings, speak volumes. No one gets near you unless he allows it (Surprise, he doesn’t).

If you can’t sleep, he might put on old, eerie orchestral film scores, claiming “this is the soundtrack of the subconscious mind.” It’s not exactly relaxing, but hey, it’s better than silence. If that doesn’t work, to his minor disappointment, he’ll climb into bed with you and let you cuddle into him. He’s surprisingly warm even though he’s been undead for nearly 19 years.

He won’t admit it, but if you start getting better, there’s a shift. His stare lingers less like he’s observing a specimen and more like he’s… relieved? He won’t acknowledge it, though. Except maybe a chaste kiss on the forehead or a lingering touch on your face.

Being cared for by Paulo is an experience, equal parts unsettling, intense, and strangely protective. Would he ever outright say he cares? No. But in his own eerie, backward way, he makes sure you shine bright again.

[euphoriesx]

gojo satoru eats pussy like he eats kikufuku. he loves sweet treats, so who is he to reject this one, the sweetest of them all? he laps at it softly like he’s trying to savour the taste of his favourite dessert, teasing you, nipping at you, and when you cum he acts like a child getting a gold star from their teacher.

geto suguru eats pussy like he swallows his curse balls. with just as much fervour, but much less of the .. disgusting aftertaste. you’re a heavenly alternative. sometimes after missions he’ll get home and immediately dive straight between your legs, the taste of you nullifying every single curse he’s had to consume.

nanami kento eats pussy, as expected, like a gentleman. he’ll part your legs gently, asking you for permission before slowly diving in. maybe not as messily as the two before, but god, just as good. but on bad days he doesn’t spare a second, eating you out like his life depends on it. oh, what a duality you are, kento.

toji fushiguro eats pussy like it’s the only meal he’s had in three weeks. (which is plausible.) you’re throwing your head back, gripping his hair with one hand, the other hand digging your nails into his beefy shoulder. and he’s not sorry about it at all, suffocating himself in your folds and occasionally coming up to lick his lips and wipe slick off his face with the back of his hand.

ryomen sukuna eats pussy strangely casually, like a millennia of experience has led up to this very moment. he knows his way around you, knows how to make you feel good. he’ll press one of his four arms at your puffy clit as he sucks greedily, and he’s a biter. please don’t question anything if you feel the sharp of a fang in your delicate folds.

higuruma hiromi is much like a variation of nanami kento, but his nose makes it so much better, somehow. you’re in love with how it presses against your tight cunt, how his eyes flutter shut the moment he comes to meet your folds. he eats you out like an obedient dog, in a way. but give him the signal and he’ll surprise even himself.

[pythonmoth]

cw: post-traumatic stress disorder. paranoia. anxiety. panic. overthinking. reader is traumatized and unreliable. explicit suicidal thoughts. mentioned depersonalization. the voices. jealous simon. kissing the homies pt2. author was angry while writing.

simon x f!reader. poly tf141. father figure price.

text is heavily styled to show reader's panic. if it's difficult to read, I can share the normal version tomorrow. ♡

First | Last | Next

Slow.

That's the only way you can describe how the progress has been for you.

Ever since you fell asleep with Simon on a call, you've been feeling so calm. It's like all the problems disappeared. Your therapist is confused, but glad to see you all happy and content, like never before. Your appetite has come back, your nails have been growing nicely. You give yourself a chance to try on comfortable shoes, a little hesitant to make your toenails hurt, but you can actually walk with them now. They're still a little sensitive, but you're running your errands on your own now. No need to be dependant anymore.

To feel like yourself again has given you so much comfort that you find yourself texting the team properly. Even Gaz has been taking your calls when he's available, which has been great for your mental health, and your heart. Price has been mostly quiet, but you're not surprised, as he's always busy; he mostly just shares updates on missions, like Simon. Johnny has been incredibly funny on the phone, sharing silly things and your mutual hatred towards a new movie has been helping you bond again.

Simon, however...

"Hey, I'm serious! Don't you dare using that fucking tea bag!" Simon grunts from the phone.

You turn to him, laughing as you see him frowning. Simon's unmasked face covers your phone screen, his distaste for the cheap tea bags completely clear. His eyebrows are furrowed together, his mouth curled in a little disgusted snarl. You can only grin, mocking him, lazily patting your hands dry on your pants.

"I've no energy to prepare anything else!" you sigh, dropping the tea bag on the mug, getting closer to the phone to turn the volume up.

Your phone is fighting for it's life resting against a little cookie jar on the isle, your hands still a little damp from doing the dishes.

"Well, if you didn't try to do everything at once, you would" Simon voice retorts. His forehead is covering nearly half of your screen, making it hard to take him seriously.

"I can perfectly do multiple things at the same time".

"The stove".

You turn around to see the stove still on. With a grimace, you turn it off, ignoring his little chuckle as you reach out for your tea and your phone, walking over to the living room. The couch is cozy and fluffy, making you sink into it as if it were a cloud. You drag a blanket over your legs as you smile at the screen, staring at Simon.

"Whatever. Now, what did you have for dinner?"

Ever since that night, this has been your new normal. He has time off, you have a videocall. Really, it's a win-win situation, and it makes you happy, so that's fine. He tells you all about everyone, he tells you about how much he misses you and how much he wants to see you. It makes you smile, genuinely so.

The therapist isn't convinced you're okay yet. She says you're still jumpy, still flinch around people, and she even said you're hyper vigilant. But there's nothing wrong with being precautious, so you don't understand how that's a bad thing. However, you can admit it's a little hard to do things with your hands. It's not that you can't use your hands, because you can, but it makes you feel as if you were in a simulation, as if you were part of a game and you're the point of view for someone else.

Perhaps you should've kept that to yourself.

That's probably why the therapist refuses to allow you to go back. She probably thinks you're crazy, when it happens to everyone. She just doesn't understand.

It's no matter, because they're coming.

Price told you a few days ago that they're finally free, and will be having a few months off unless they're strictly needed. It's been nine months since you last saw them in person, so it makes you feel excited, content!

Tomorrow. They're coming tomorrow.

The best part is that you don't even need to ask what they feel like eating. You know them well enough to know just how much they love meat, so you just have to go out and buy everything.

The air is a more than chilly now, your birthday month coming right up, so you decide to put on your favorite jacket and take your car keys. The drive to the store is calm, the music absolutely blasting your ears, though, your enthusiasm sky high with how much you've missed them these past few months. It makes you giddy, to welcome them, to see them again.

Your therapist has been helping you to identify your emotions, helping you to understand how you are genuinely feeling. And having them over... it makes you a little anxious. Only because you haven't gotten any visitors outside your family and friends, really. Of course you want them there, it's just gonna be new.

In just a few minutes, your car if parked and locked at least five times just to make sure, canva tote bags in hand and then you're walking in the store. You're always making sure to come at a time when there's less people, and you're glad it's keeping up the same. Headphones over your ears, music gently playing on then, you move with practiced ease.

Meat. Vegetables. Pasta.

Meat. Fruit. Meat.

And meat.

They would die if you gave them anything but meat, truly.

You smile to yourself as you carry your things back to your car, your headphones now curled around your neck so you can pay attention to your surroundings, your eyes slyly looking around, turning smoothly whenever you feel someone is looking at you from your back. Your eyes wide open, you fill your car with the groceries, quickly closing it once you're done.

Just for precaution, you look around again before looking inside your car, and as soon as you open the door, you're inside and lo ck in g the car.

Just precaution.

It's dangerous out the re.

You're home the rest of the day, preparing the meals you'll be giving them tomorrow morning. Price did say they'll be arriving at 2pm, so you make sure everything is perfect before going to bed.

That night, you sleep with Simon's breathing next to your ear again, your heart pounding in your chest. The an xie ty keeps on growing, but you're sure it's just giddiness. Really, you're just too excited you can't wait.

The next morning, you almost don't want to get up. The woodpeckers are going crazy with the tree just outside your window, the sunlight hitting your face perfectly from between the curtains and it feels peaceful. Your bed is empty, except for your pillows —and a big plushie of a dragon Johnny got for you a few years ago—, and it's so, so warm you just don't want to get up.

With a sigh, you stand up and quickly get ready to welcome the day, and your friends. You're thankful you made sure everything was ready the day before, because just as you're done blow drying your hair, there's a firm knock on your door.

Surprised, you turn to look at the clock. You didn't even realize you spent so long just staring at yourself in silence. You lost so many hours, when you could've been doing something else!

"Coming!" you yell from your room, jumping down the stairs to the kitchen and turning the stove on.

When everything is already getting heated up, you stand in front of the door, your body suddenly frozen. You're sweating, your heart slowing and then racing in your chest as if it couldn't choose what to do. Your throat is closing up.

You can't move.

Don't open the door.

Run.

Why?

What is happening?

Run.

Another knock makes you snap out of it, but your hands are still shaky as you finally open the door. Your shoulders relax as your eyes fall on Gaz, strong arms instantly wrapping around your middle as Price, right behind him, presses the door against the wall so they can all get in.

Gaz lifts you just enough to make room for the rest.

"Hey, sweetheart. Looking good" Gaz says, beaming, pressing a soft kiss to your cheekbones before letting go of you.

However, you're instantly shutting off again. You don't understand why your legs feel like jelly, why your healed fingernails are throbbing. You don't understand at all why the sudden urge to run, far, far away.

Leave.

Price grins down at you, patting your head and gently gripping your shoulder before side stepping you. "Thank you for having us, kid".

When you look up at Johnny, he's grinning down at you, but you can see the way he quickly catches on your reaction, the way your forehead is covered in sweat, and the way your lips are pursed.

Danger.

"It's good to see you" Johnny says gently, nodding down at you and moving past you very carefully, trying not to touch you.

It feels odd. It feels incredibly off. And there's something weird in the air.

Your stomach is twisting and churning. It's confusing. It's weird. Sulfur? Acid?

Fully focused on trying to understand what happening to you, you're suddenly aware that the burning smell you can perceive is coming from your deep in your stomach.

Fear? Pain? Panic?

Your throat is so closed up you can barely breathe. The fear is making your sight turn a little blurry, your breathing shaky.

Bile. You want to throw up.

When you look up at Simon, your hands clench on your sides, swallowing thickly. It feels so, so wrong to look at him like this, especially when you two are supposed to be okay again, but for some reason, you can't handle looking at him. It's making you feel... off. Odd.

You give him a tight smile and a nod, the giddiness turning ice cold in your stomach.

You bring your hand to your mouth, nibbling on your fingernails.

As soon as they're all inside, door closed behind them, Simon takes his mask off, his eyes fixed on you, frowning.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah. I'm okay. Yeah, come on" you reply, maybe a little too quickly, but you don't give him, or any of them, a moment to think about it as you move to the kitchen.

You check on everything by the stove as Johnny fills glasses with wine. It's too early for wine, but with your teeth destroying the growing fingernail on your thumb... you don't really care right now.

"It smells amazing" Price comments, inhaling deeply. He's sitting at the head of the table, looking ready to sink his teeth in anything. If he's oblivious to the tension in your shoulders, or if he's choosing to ignore it, you can't tell. "This is what having a wife at home feels like. All we're missing is a little one".

That manages to make you smile slightly, your shaky hands relaxing at the friendly tone. You reach out to mix the pots, turning to look at him.

"The only little one any of you will be seeing from me is my knee on your balls. Now, be useful and set the table" you grunt. Price raises his hands in surrender and pats Simon's shoulder so they can do as you asked.

It's not the first time they've come, anyway, so they don't have to ask you where you keep things. Johnny stays by the table, claiming he already poured the wine, but he ends up helping Simon and Price with the plates anyway.

Gaz leaves the table to stand right next to you, suddenly smacking the hand on your mouth firmly.

"Stop that shit" he whispers angrily. He's quiet, even gentle with it, so rest don't hear.

"Sorry. I'm... feeling weird" you mumble, forcing yourself to stop.

"Go sit. I've got this" he hums, nudging you with his shoulder until you let go.

You make sure to sit by the isle, just because that ridiculous anxious feeling isn't getting any smaller. If anything, you can jump and cover yourself with the isle, so this place is fine.

As Gaz serves for everyone and they start sitting down again, you nearly jump off the chair when you realize Simon's sitting next to you, instead of where he was sitting on the opposite side of the table.

"Hey, that's my chair. Go sit over there".

You look up to see Simon glare at Gaz, the two of them staring each other down, a silent conversation between the two of them. In the end, Simon simply let's go of the chair and sits away from you again. It helps you relax, but you keep quiet, reaching out to grab your glass of wine.

"Really, though. If you had a kid running around..." Price starts again, his mouth filled with food.

"Back off" Johnny complains, nudging Price still. Price rolls his eyes, waving a dismissive hand. "What a prick".

Simon, however, can't look away from you, paying attention to all of your movements, the way you lean on Gaz, the way you barely seem to be listening.

"If she's marrying anyone here, that's me" Gaz says, suddenly wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "Y'all stand no chance".

It makes you relax, but only a moment, feeling suffocated by their eyes on you, especially with the way Simon's gripping his fork. You hit Gaz on the ribs with your elbow, only to make him let go. He grins, his eyes gentle. You know he doesn't mean it like that, but it's making you uncomfortable again.

"Oi, watch your—" Simon starts, his eye twitching.

"Not playing house by choice, I've been forced to. I'm pretty sure we don't wanna talk about it, so eat up and shut the fuck up" you snap, your tone just shy from screaming at them.

That makes Price's teasing smile die, nodding solemnly, and finally shutting up. You refuse to look at the way Simon and Johnny's faces drop, both of them staring at their plates, suddenly feeling no appetite.

It's an awkward meal, everybody afraid to make a single noise. You can hear the way Simon's munching on the vegetables, you can hear Price's breathing slowing down just the way he does when he's on a mission, and Johnny... he's only mixing his food together, stabbing an innocent carrot.

After a while, when nobody's chewing and nobody even dares breathing, Gaz breaks the silence.

"So..."

The rest turn to him.

Gaz grins.

A movie.

The sun is still high up, but Garrick suggested to watch a movie, and you said yes. In a heartbeat. Really, Simon shouldn't complain if he gets to see you for a little longer. Whatever that means, anyway, because you don't want him near you at all. Fuck, you didn't even let him sit next to you.

All these months, he thought he'd been helping you, he thought therapy was going well, because during the constant videocalls you've been cheerful, your old self. You smiled at him, you laughed. He had made you laugh at his fucked up jokes again.

But this?

Johnny went with Price to buy crisps, soda, more drinks, and sour candies for you. Those two bastards really couldn't handle a single comment and bolted immediately. Pair of cowards. Simon wasn't stupid, he had seen the way Johnny nearly burst into tears, the way Price's jaw clenched, felt his own heart break inside his chest, but he has to sit here and take it. Because he wasn't a coward.

And this?

You're leaning on Garrick. Heavily.

Simon eyes the way Garrick interlocks your hands together, checking on your fingernails. His eye twitches as he hears you talk, both of you fully focused on each other, as if he wasn't there. It's not that that's a new concept for him, he often only talked so much.

But this?

His heart pounds in his chest when Garrick grips your jaw with a hand, kissing your cheek loudly after you pout at him.

It makes you smile.

That's it, he thinks. I'm getting up and I'm beating him up. Who the fuck does he think he is? Stealing my girlfriend right in front of me.

In the end, he only shifts, his face betraying nothing, looking down at his beer, hoping the other cowards arrive soon so he doesn't have to see the way he keeps losing you.

Losing you, all over again. Over a fucked up mistake, for following an order. And the worst part is that he genuinely gets it. Garrick is the only one who didn't hurt you, of course you're okay with his touch and not the rest.

Fucking hell. He wants to stab himself in the gut to end his misery.

But no.

He did that.

There's no changing it.

Simon looks up at the two of you.

His anger dissipates when he hears your soft laugh, Garrick's hand on the back of your neck, keeping you steady as he pokes your side, clearly sharing a silly moment. Simon grimaces and turns away again, sipping his beer.

It takes Price and Johnny half an hour to come back, and Simon couldn't be happier to see them.

With the snacks covering the coffee table and their laps, Simon genuinely tries to ignore the fact that you're still pressed against Garrick's side, happily munching on your sour candy. Johnny's sitting on the floor right between his legs, occasionally feeding him orange gummy bears or crisps. Price, between Garrick and himself, is staring at the movie, seemingly content with sipping on his beer, and stealing some of Simon's gummy bears.

Every time he hears your low laugh, Garrick's hands on you, Simon wants to die. He grips Johnny's shoulder, his nails digging slightly into his skin, trying his best to pay attention to the movie, but he isn't able to understand what it is about. He doesn't know what's happened in front of him for the past hour. He knows how many times Garrick's lips were pressed to your cheek. He knows how many times you laughed with Garrick. He knows how many times you've shifted, closer and closer to Garrick.

He can't do anything but dwell on his own regret, on his anger. His pain.

He doesn't blame you, he doesn't blame Garrick. Hell, he doesn't even blame Price, or Johnny, or anybody else. Just himself.

He could've done this so much better, but there's not much he can do. He needs to be alone with you so he can talk properly, apologize again, but every time he looks at you, even without the mask, you flinch. It doesn't matter how hard you try to hide it, he can see it.

Johnny gets up, snapping him out of his thoughts. He sees him take the empty plate, walking towards the kitchen.

Not even a minute later, Johnny's cursing and there's a shattering sound echoing on the house. Simon stands up, moving to go check on Johnny, but he freezes when you stand up abruptly, your face in complete shock as you walk away, your arm bumping onto the walls as you rush away.

He's torn for a whole second too long, thinking if he should follow you or check on Johnny first, and that's enough for Garrick to beat him to it. Simon can only stare at Garrick follows after you, sprinting.

After a moment of hesitation, he walks over to Johnny. Simon finds him picking up the shattered plate, grimacing when he sees someone walking in.

"Ah, it's you. I tripped" Johnny grumbles, rubbing the back of his neck.

"You hurt yourself".

"Just a tiny cut, 's nothing. Where did she go?" Johnny questions, bringing his thumb to his mouth, sucking a little on the blood.

"I don't know. Practically bolted when you dropped the plate".

Johnny stares at him, blinking. "And what are you doing here? I must've scared her" he sighs, standing up. "Where to?"

"Garrick already went after her".

"So?"

"They're getting along. A lot".

Johnny blinks again.

Smack.

"What the fuck? What was that for now?" Simon growls out, rubbing his head. Johnny shakes his head, still expecting an answer. Simon sighs. "Over there. Come on".

Simon guides Johnny, their feet barely making any noise, used to being quiet and, also, because they don't want to spook you any longer. He finally spots you, the door of the guest bedroom ajar.

He freezes.

Johnny's hand grips his arm, his whispered curse falling on deaf ears.

Simon stands there in complete silence, his blood, and stomach, and his heart and his brain falling to his feet as he can only stare.

Your cheeks are wet with tears but it's barely visible because Garrick's hands are covering them, his lips on yours.

It looks peaceful.

And Simon wants to die all over again.

Johnny quietly shuffles away, but Simon can't look away. Not now.

Garrick pulls away and kisses your cheek, then your forehead, then grips your nose, making you huff, a small smile on your lips. He's grinning, rolling his eyes, as if that kiss didn't just happen.

Simon isn't breathing. He's not even sure he's here anymore. Perhaps he did die, and this is his personal hell.

Must be.

chingue a su madre emilia pérez y todos los involucrados. I was pissed writing this and I wanted chaos.

anyway, so there's that ♡ thank you so much for reading!!!

taglist: @euphoricn @lilg101010 @enfppuff @carolchaotic @silas-fanfic-favs @nina-from-317 @an-ever-angry-bi @kittygonap @dorothy-rainbird-deactivated202 @adventurerabby @defronix @sheepispink @iambuttwodaysold @blackhawkfanatic @malevolentghoul @thriving-n-jiving @literallegendicon @echo9821 @angel-bugz @ssc7514 @clickbait-official @hades--baby @blackhawkfanatic @sirbonesly @saki---chan @skeletonsucker @nnsissys @kukavittu @tessakate @honestlymassivetrash @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @rayrayyio @diseasedclitoris @alex1011sdzfgh @thebumbqueen

[ramp-it-up]

Fade to Love

Summary: You and Bucky go way back. Way back to when you acted together 20 years ago. You had a crush on him then, but you were too young. Tragedy and artistic passion made you best friends. Will your history make you lovers?

Word count: 4.3 K

Pairing: Actor!Director!Producer! Bucky Barnes x Reader

A/N: I've been dreaming about this ever since I got my #BuckyBarnesBirthdayBingo by @avengers-assemble-bingo. This fulfills the square: Best Friends to Lovers. As always, I crave feedback, so please let me know how you feel in asks, comments, reblogs and likes. TIA! ❤️

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. Smut! Best friends to lovers. All of the reckless behaviors that come with growing up in Hollywood, teenage crush, small age gap, young love, tragic loss, idiots in love, cigarette smoking, mutual pining. Then comes the smut. :)

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———

This was deja vu all over again.

The paparazzi swarmed the studio as you and Bucky arrived for your meeting at the studio. After all, you'd spent your teen years under the camera’s glare, a co-star in an ensemble drama series, Idol’s Ridge, that captured the hearts of millions 20 years before. 

During those five years portraying Sophie Randall, you’d met the people who’d become your best and enduring friends. Sam Wilson, who played your older brother, Peter Randall, Carol Danvers, who played your best friend, Morgan Blair, and James “Bucky” Barnes who played Sam’s Best friend and Morgan’s older brother, Jack Blair. 

There were several other actors from the show with whom you’d remained cordial and friendly, but this was your core group. 

But today? Today was different. Today, you were meeting in a creative capacity, not just as an actress. You were going to control the narrative. 

The past twenty years had been a whirlwind. A marriage, scandal, and a career that had taken unexpected turns. You'd left the acting world long ago, but here you were again, standing next to Bucky Barnes, one of your best friends. Someone who’d been through it all with you.

Bucky, with his model handsome looks, dark hair and true blue eyes, was more than just a pretty face. His career had been varied, lucrative, and meaningful.

He was now reaching phenomenal heights. And he was the one the tabloids still associated you with, before, during, and after your marriage, even after all these years. 

The shipping of the characters was inappropriate at the beginning, but toward the end of the run when you were an adult, Idol’s Ridge fans were calling for Jack to notice Sophie, and wanted you and Bucky together, even though you never dated.

It was others pushing that narrative, always trying to create drama where there was none, not you two. 

You and Bucky were just friends.

But if you were being honest, that “what if” had been curling around your mind since you were a kid with a crush on a co-star who was too old for you. 20 to your 15 when you first started the show, Bucky didn’t spare you a second glance in a romantic capacity, but he took you under his wing and protected you, calling you his “Little Star.” 

He decided that nothing was going to ruin your innocence, lecturing you all the time about the pitfalls of fame at a young age, even as he was reveling in those pits. If he knew you wanted him to ruin you, he didn’t let on.

Bucky’s decency did nothing to sway your heart away from him. In fact, it only made him more appealing. You always had a soft spot for Bucky Barnes.

If Bucky noticed you growing up and becoming a woman, he didn’t let you know. You were always his little sidekick, not quite a sister, but definitely not a romantic interest.

Perhaps it was because his best friend, another rising star in tv and film, did. 

Steve met you briefly when he was filming in LA and hanging with Bucky. They were roommates in New York and best friends, having known each other as child actors from Brooklyn.

After he met you when he was 24 and you were 19, Steve talked about you all the time to his best friend and begged Bucky to give you his number. 

Bucky refused, citing the fact that you were not ready for the likes of Steve Rogers, the golden boy heartthrob actor who partied harder than he did. Yes, that was the reason.

On the night of your 21st birthday after Idol’s Ridge was over, you had a get together in Manhattan, because you were filming a movie in New York City. You invited Bucky who was now based out of Brooklyn, and Steve was not going to miss this opportunity to get next to you.

That night, 25 year old Steve Rogers bought you a drink, and the next morning, Bucky heard you two in the room next door, cursing his, and Steve’s, timing. The rest was tabloid history: the whirlwind romance, the young, impetuous marriage, the substances, the breakout films, the nominations, the miscarriage, the rumors, the tragedy. 

You were a widow at the age of 26, the caretaker of the legacy of one of the most talented young actors of your generation. Gone too soon.

Bucky was there for you, and you for him, feeling the loss as no one else could. When you were ready to get on with life, you and Bucky created Valkyrie Production Company as a tribute to Steve.

While you slowed your acting career way down before 30 years old, only taking on about one indie film project a year, Bucky’s career had taken off. 

He’d transitioned from actor to actor/director, and of course, actor/director/producer. You watched him get engaged to Natasha Romanov, one of the older Idol’s Ridge alums, break up, and then date a string of actresses and models, but nothing ever stuck.

You didn’t understand. He could be a bit intense, but Bucky was such a good guy. He deserved happiness. Now, he was a 40 year old single successful actor slash slash with no family to speak of but you.

“Ready to roll?” 

Bucky’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

You blinked, taking a step back into the moment. You smoothed your pencil skirt down your hips, which were wider now than they were 20 years earlier. You wondered what production would think of you at 35, no surgical augmentation, just naturally you in a sea of plastic.

Bucky was the same way, his dark hair and beard peppered with gray and crows feet framing his striking eyes. But on him they were ‘sexy.’

Women were held to a different standard.

You missed Bucky appreciating your curves and your looks as you bit your lip and looked up at him with those big eyes.

Bucky’s heart clenched when you smiled at him. So fucking beautiful.

“Yeah. Let’s make magic, ” you murmured.

Bucky was a goner. 

He loved your voice since you developed the lower register of your tone. It was one thing that the critics and fans raved over in anything you did.

He chuckled at how you’d trashed his trailer when he’d tried to hide your cigarettes from you that one time. It was all for naught, since you quit 18 months after you started. 

He didn’t know that you’d just done it to hang out with him outside the soundstage door, stealing time. But it had permanently changed your voice into something that cemented your icon status in the present day, despite your limited career.

Bucky grinned that boyish grin, the same one he’d flashed a thousand times when you were on set together all those years ago. It made your heart do that little flip it always did, despite everything.

You had a meeting with the studio execs to discuss the next project, a reboot of the very series you'd starred in all those years ago, Idol’s Ridge.

It was too perfect, too full of nostalgia. But it also felt strange.

You glanced over at Bucky as he started talking to the execs. He was charismatic, confident, everything he had always been. But there was something in the way he kept glancing at you. His eyes were more intense, more aware of your every movement. 

It was unsettling, especially the premise he pitched. 

You finished up with the execs and stepped outside the back entrance for a quick break and Bucky lit up a cigarette, something you hadn’t seen him do in years. 

“You’re quiet today,” he said, leaning against the wall. You inwardly railed at him smoking again, but he was grown. You watched the smoke curl around him through narrowed eyes. Then you grabbed the cigarette from his fingers and took a drag.

“Don’t do that, Star…”

You raised an eyebrow at him and then inhaled, Bucky watching you closely. Too closely, you might have thought if you noticed the way he watched your mouth after you removed the cigarette.

Bucky put the cancer stick in his own mouth and closed his eyes as he took his own drag, tongue chasing the filter as he removed it to exhale. He peered at you through the smoke, licked his lips and then dropped the half smoked bone on the ground, extinguishing it with the sole of his brown Ferragamo.

“We quit.”

You laughed and leaned on the stucco wall with your hand, staring up at him while he smiled down at you. This was your thing, this unspoken language that was understood but not explicit.

You worked together, but it was always more than that. 

You were waiting for him to speak, but Bucky could always wait you out.

“James.”

You punched him on the arm. Hard. 

“Ow!”

He laughed and rubbed his arm as he looked down at his shoes, smiling.

“You can do it, Star. I believe in you.”

You rolled your eyes at the old nickname. He always told you that you were the brightest little star on the set. 

“But Bucky…”

You thought you lost it when Steve disappeared. But you couldn’t lose that feeling, so you took small roles, just to have permission to be someone else for a time.

Your films were critically acclaimed, but your confidence was shot.

“You can do it.”

You appraised Bucky. Something had shifted. Maybe it was the project, or maybe it was something more. Bucky looked right back at you, his expression softening. 

“Are you in or are you out, Star?”

“I’m in,” you said, your voice steady and sure.

He tilted his head, studying you. 

“Good. Because I need you.”

“You’ve always needed me,” you said, half-joking, half serious.

Bucky chuckled. 

“Yeah, well, this time it’s different.”

You could feel your heart pounding. He was looking at you like he’d never looked at you before. Like he was really seeing you. But you were reading too much into things again.

You took a deep breath.

“You know, I’ve always trusted you, right? With everything. You’re the only person I’ve never felt like I had to pretend with.”

You took his hand and Bucky looked down at you tangling your fingers with his. 

He should tell you. 

“I know, Buck. You’re my best friend.”

There it was. The friend zone. Bucky sighed, but held on to your hand.

“Although we didn’t talk about that one plot point.”

You released his hand and crossed your arms, pushing your breasts up in your sweater. Not that Bucky noticed that sort of thing.

Bucky looked at you, one eye closed, squinting from the LA sunlight. Or was it because you were so gorgeous? 

To you, his glance felt loaded, like there was something you couldn’t ignore anymore. But of course you tried.

“Which one?”

You smiled at his evasion.

“You know. The one where our characters are married now?”

Bucky smirked.

“We discussed this being centered around the children of the cast from 20 years ago.”

You huffed, frustrated.

“Yes, Bucky, but our characters were never a thing.”

He stood up and walked two steps toward you, into your space.

“Not true. Sophie always had a crush on Jack, but he blew you off. It’s 20 years later, he’s grown up and finally appreciates the beautiful woman who was always right there in front of him.”

You looked up into his clear blue gaze and had a scorching comeback for him.

“Oh.”

He reached for your face, palm resting on your cheek, thumb brushing at the side of your nose.

“Hold up…” 

Bucky moved even closer and brought his face close to yours, warm menthol breath hovering over your own. He pulled his hand back and looked at it, showing it to you briefly. You didn’t see anything.

“Eyelash.”

He opened the door and held it for you as you tried to get your soul back into your body.

“Break time is over.”

—--

The next hours were a blur.

The production meeting went long as you brainstormed for the reboot, and you and Bucky worked seamlessly together, bouncing ideas off each other and firing on all cylinders. The dynamic was amazing and reignited your old crush.

You went to Bucky’s LA home after the meeting, excited at the preliminary greenlight for the project. You both decided to work on an outline that weekend to deliver to the studio Monday morning.

You’d gone home to pack a bag and get your essentials, as Bucky said you could bunk in one of his guest rooms. 

It would be like a sleepover with one of your girlfriends, sweet, innocent and fun.

But after eating takeout tacos from Leo’s, you got to work in Bucky’s home office, and the vibe was thriving, but different. Every time your hands brushed as you passed papers or exchanged a glance, it was electric.

The air arced between you, but you couldn't tell if it was just you, or if Bucky felt it too. 

As you sat looking at the whiteboard with the preliminary outline of the pilot episode, Bucky leaned back in his chair and regarded it, a smirk playing at the edge of his lips.

“This shit is fucking brilliant. It’s going to be better than the original.” 

You looked at him, excitement coursing through you. You smiled at him and got up to walk behind his chair to lean on it and admire your ideas, as if you could see better what he meant from his perspective.

“I can’t believe it’s really happening.” 

You leaned down and whispered in his ear, afraid to voice it too loud. Bucky swiveled around in his chair to look at you. You were still in your outfit from this morning, too excited when you pack to change into something more comfortable. You looked gorgeous. 

He stood up and grabbed your hands in his.

“Better believe it, Star, we’re going to do this thing big.”

You squeezed his hands back and looked up into his beautiful blue eyes. Bucky’s hands were on your arms now and he was drawing you closer.

“Couldn’t do this without you, Star. I love… working with you.”

Your stomach flipped as he murmured at you. You inhaled the spice of his cologne and savored his touch while listening to his voice.

But your stomach dropped when you heard the ‘L’ word and you didn’t know what happened; just like Sophie and Jack all those years ago, you didn’t know what came over you when you pressed your lips to Bucky’s.

You had every intention of ending the contact before it began, but Bucky’s hands were now in your hair and tugged you close. He turned and lifted you onto his desk, stepping between your thighs, pressing them wide enough so that your skirt fought the movement.

It only made everything hotter. 

Bucky used his hold on your hair to tilt your head so he could kiss down your neck. You arched your back, needing his mouth all over you, needing him to rip you out of the clothes that had the nerve to create a barrier between you. 

For some unknown reason to your cunt, words emerged from your lips,

“We shouldn’t.” 

“Why not?” 

He pushed your cardigan off your shoulders and nudged your tank top lower so that he could mouth at your cleavage. Your panties flooded with wetness. 

“We’re both grown, Star.” 

The acknowledgement in Bucky’s rumbling voice sent a bolt of pleasure straight to your core. He skated his hands up your thighs, pushing your skirt higher until you had to lift your hips to allow it to bunch around your waist. He fingered along the edges of your panties. 

He looked down.

“Black lace. Fuck.” 

He cursed low enough that you had to strain to hear him. He licked his lips, his saliva making them look so delicious. 

“Can I touch you, Starlight?”

You shivered at the nickname and nodded, breath caught in your throat.

“Need your words, Baby. Need that beautiful voice.”

“Yes, Bucky. Please touch me…”

Bucky’s fingertips traced your clit through the fabric. 

“Fuck, I’ve wanted you.” 

“Me too,” you whispered, and he met your gaze, which threatened to stop his heart. 

His blue eyes were fire, bright enough to make your whole world glow. If you let him, he’d sweep you away and ensure you enjoyed every second. You wanted it. To be swept away by him. 

Bucky started the torturous slide of his thumb over your clit. You threw your head back and whined, caught up in a nirvana you’d only dreamt about.

“Bucky! Dont…”

He stopped what he was doing, stilling his hand over your cunt.

“Don’t?” 

His voice was broken, and pleading. You used your free hand to cover his where he cupped your pussy. 

“...Don’t stop Bucky….” 

Still he didn’t move, searching your face for answers you didn’t have. You drew in a shuddering breath. Bucky’s slow smile sent your stomach into a dizzying flip. 

“Naughty girl. You want to use me for your pleasure. Your own personal sex toy.” 

You dragged your gaze over him, from his dark hair, to those wicked blue eyes, to his sinful mouth, down to the pants clearly sporting a huge hard-on. You grew bold in the knowledge that he’d started this. 

Bucky Barnes wanted you, too.

“I have a sex toy. In fact, I have several. None of them look a thing like you.” 

His laughter rolled through you. 

“I guess I have work to do. Need to retire some sex toys. Check.” 

“You’ll have to work real hard. I’m kind of attached to them, especially Arthur. Haven’t had real cock in 2 years.”

Bucky arched his eyebrow and hooked his fingers through your panties and dragged them down your legs, stepping back so you could kick them off. 

“I’m disturbed that you named your vibrator.”

“Dildo,” you corrected.

He chuckled and shook his head.

“But I’m up for the challenge of making you scream my name…”

Bucky went to his knees between your spread thighs, looking at your pussy so intensely you could feel it like his touch. 

“And I won’t tell you that I’ve jacked myself to the thought of you countless times over the years.” 

“Bucky…”

He pressed a painfully gentle kiss to each thigh and then his breath ghosted over your clit. 

“I sure as hell won’t tell you that when I fucked my hand, and imagined being inside you, that I came so fucking hard, Star, just from thinking about being buried in you to the hilt.”

You tried to focus past the pleasure of his mouth, his big hands holding your thighs wide as he devoured you. But his words had you floating.

“I… You fantasized about me?” 

Bucky licked up your slit and then kissed it, looking up in your eyes before he answered you.

“Hmmm. Yes. I did.” 

He sucked on your clit hard enough to make your back bow. 

“Eating you out...” 

Another long lick and a smile that he was accomplishing that very thing. 

“You on your knees for me...” 

The image in your mind of looking up at Bucky made you clench down and Bucky smiled at your pitiful pussy.

“...Bending you over something, like this desk, and fucking you hard…”

You whimpered, your pleasure building as much from the fantasy as from Bucky’s mouth. 

“... Maybe taking that ass…”

He rolled his tongue over your clit, working you in just the way you needed. 

“....cuming inside you, or all over your back. I’ll let you choose.”

“Oh! Bucky!”

You were practically screaming as you tried to slow your pleasure, to make it last, but Bucky drove you to the brink and you couldn’t resist him. You came with a cry that filled the room around you.

Bucky didn’t give you a chance to recover, though. He stood and stepped back between your thighs to take your mouth. You tasted yourself on his tongue and it made your toes curl. 

You wrapped your legs around his waist and he lifted you off the desk easily and walked you down the hallway, still kissing you, never missing a step. 

“You’ve done this before,” you murmured. 

“Not like this. Never this.” 

He kept you pinned to him with one arm around the small of your back and used his other hand to pull your tank top off. You ran your hands down his muscled chest. He really was too beautiful. It almost hurt to look at him and touching him only magnified the sensation. 

He spun and pinned you between his body and the wall next to the door, thrusting against you. The seam of his pants pressed against your clit and you cried out. 

“More.” 

Bucky dragged his mouth up your neck and set his teeth against your earlobe and that set you on fire.

“You’re so needy, Star. I get it, I really do. Been wanting to show you how I feel for 14 years…” 

You gasped and Bucky’s teeth scraped against your lip, making your nipples tighten in response. He let you down and stepped back, running his hand through his hair.

“Strip.”

There wasn’t much left to take off, but you obeyed and his grin made your heart stutter. 

“On the bed.” 

You crawled on the mattress and reclined among the pillows. You were rewarded by Bucky stripping out of shirt, and his pants and underwear in one go, shoving the material down his strong thighs and kicking free of them, leaving him naked. 

The sight of his large cock straining against his stomach had you biting your bottom lip.

You knew what came next.

You craved it. And you forgot all about Arthur. You reached for him. 

“Don’t make me wait any more, Bucky.” 

He pulled a string of condoms from the nightstand and tossed them on the bed next to you. You counted six and raised your eyebrows. Bucky gave you an unrepentant grin.

“One condition.” 

“Damn it, Bucky.” 

Of course there were conditions. 

“Stay in my bed tonight. Another fantasy of mine.” 

You melted. Why not? It was finally time to have what you wanted. And you wanted Bucky.

You met those intoxicating blue eyes and nodded. 

“Yes.” 

“Thank fuck.” 

He was on you in seconds, shoving your legs wide and he ground the base of his cock against your clit. He tangled his fingers in your hair and took your mouth like you were the sweetest fruit and he’d never get enough. 

You reached blindly over and grabbed a condom. You tore the wrapper with your teeth and you rolled it over his cock. He allowed it, shifting back to give you the room to work.

Your body cried for him; you needed him inside you and you needed it at that moment. You lay back and  guided him into you and he thrust in slowly, inch by inch, until he had sheathed himself completely. 

Oh god. The stretch. Bucky broke free of your mouth and pressed his forehead against yours, your breath mingling between you. 

Each of your exhales came out as, “Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.” 

He gentled his touch, stroking your hair as if you were a wild animal he was taming. 

“Stay with me, Starlight. I’ve got you.” 

As if this was something that was forced upon you, rather than what you grabbed with greedy hands because you wanted it so badly. 

You smiled, blissful. Fucked out, enjoying the feeling of Bucky’s cock pouding inside you. You needed more.

“Please move, friend. Fuck me, Bucky.” 

You hitched your leg around his hip so you could take him deeper and leaned up until your lips brushed his ear.

“I need it hard.” 

Bucky squeezed his eyes together and bit his lip as the pounding of his cock increased. You both thought he would cum right then.

“‘M not your fucking friend…”

He pulled out and flipped you onto your stomach, pulling your hips up even as he impaled you again. 

“You want me to fuck you hard?” 

“Yes!” you moaned. 

“Knees wider, Starlight. Let’s go.”

Bucky slapped your ass and then grabbed a handful of your thick hair, tugging at just the right amount of pain to go with the pleasure.

The first stroke was slow.

“Fuck, you’re gripping me like a fucking vice. Almost had me cumming a few minutes ago.”

You could tell that Bucky’s teeth were gritted when he spoke. He had to brace against the urge to rut into you like a wild animal, but his pace and intensity increased. 

For long, mind-blowing minutes, he thrust into you, paying attention to your sounds and movements to know that he was hitting that spot inside you. You meet him thrust for thrust as Bucky began to fuck you like his life depended on it.

He made the mistake of looking down at how your ass took the shock waves of his back shots and the evidence of your arousal left on his cock as he pistoned inside you and he cursed.

“Fucckkkkk! You should see the beautiful cream you’re leaving on my cock, Star. So fucking hot.”

The way you moaned set him on the road to orgasm and again and he reached for your clit, rubbing his thumb over it. Almost as soon as he did, you screamed his name and shattered beneath him. Bucky followed you headlong over that cliff and collapsed beside you, dizzy.

He looked over to see you already falling asleep, exhausted. He kissed your temple and went to the bathroom to dispose of the condom, coming back with a washcloth for you.

When he was done cleaning you up, he gathered your boneless body in his arms, pressing kisses to your forehead as you curled into him, your head on his chest and leg thrown over his. 

It was like you didn’t want to let him go.

“I know the feeling, Star,” Bucky whispered as he closed his eyes.

A feeling settling in his chest that he’d almost, but not quite, ever felt before.

[notafunkiller]

not made of glass

Summary: After shopping for your Christmas tree and running into an old acquaintance, Bucky's mood completely changes.

Pairing: director!Bucky Barnes x actress!reader

Warnings: 18+, age gap (r is 24, Bucky is 36), degrading, praising, chokíng, teasing, dirty talk, language, pet names, come eating, jealousy, a little metal arm kínk, daddy kínk, no condom (but they are both clean and r is on birth control), implied aftercare, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 3.3K

story masterlist

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: An extra thank you @lavenderhaze967​ for her help and support!

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

He’s sulking. You don’t know what happened since you came from the tree shopping, but he’s been like this for hours.

“Are you sure you’re okay? I can try to take over,” you offer for the fourth time from the living room.

You don’t know how to cook. And even if you tried, you wouldn’t be as good as him, but you don’t want him to do it if he doesn’t feel alright.

“No, no, it’s fine.”

You sigh when you hear his voice. He sounds so off... but he refuses to tell you what’s happening, and you can’t push him more. Maybe it’s work.

“Bucky, you know you don’t have to do anything, right? We can order something. If you don’t feel like it, I can even...” But you pause, knowing better than to continue the sentence. Both: give you some space or leave you alone for a bit would be wrong. “Did something happen? With the project I mean.”

You drop the ornament on the couch and make your way to the kitchen.

Without waiting for him to answer, you wrap your arms around his waist from behind, pulling his back even tighter against your chest.

The Christmas tree and the food can wait. And you definitely don’t care about his covered in flour apron. You just want him to know you’re there.

You feel him tense for a few seconds, but you don’t move, instead you place your palms on his chest and hug him harder. That’s when he melts, his shoulders dropping a little. You smile before leaving a small kiss below the back of his neck.

“Who made you mad? Who do I kick?”

“I’m not... I told you I’m not mad,” he murmurs, but you don’t buy it.

“Ever since we bought the tree, you’ve been acting strange. You’re so tense, bubba.”

Bucky sighs, shaking his head at the same time as he decides to cover your hands with his. They’re warm and a little sweaty.

“I am just nervous about the food. I don’t want to screw it up.”

“Did I do something wrong? Tell me, don’t lie to me when I clearly want to solve this.”

You take a step back, upset, dropping your hands. This is not going to be a good conversation if he isn’t going to really talk. You don’t even know what you did wrong.

“Hey, hey! You didn’t do anything wrong. I am so sorry, but it’s really-”

“If you say it’s nothing one more time!” You snap, unable to keep your voice down. You don’t want to fight with him, you never do. It’s the worst feeling in the world, but he refuses to share. He is so stubborn!

“I am sorry.”

“Just tell me what happened. What made your mood change like that?”

“It’s silly,” he says, wiping his hands on his apron. “Nothing happened. Just... you know, it happens.”

Of course mood changes can just happen, but, in his case, unless it’s something that is really bothering him, it doesn’t last for so long. And he always talked to you about it, so it must be something you did.

“Did I do something Bucky? Did you,” you bite your lip when you feel yourself starting to get teary. You’re not going to be a cry baby. “Feel embarrassed by me?”

He jumps, bringing his hands to cup your face gently. You don’t move, enjoying his touch so much. “Bubba, no! No, no, no. I told you, you’re perfect. Fuck,” he curses, looking away. “I should be the one asking you that... if you feel embarrassed to be seen with me”

“What?”

“When we met with your... friend. I know we talked about our age difference before and all of that, but-”

You interrupt him before he can finish that sentence, still shocked. He was sulking for hours because he thought you’re unhappy to be seen with him all of a sudden? “When have I ever been embarrassed to be seen with you, bubba? I thought I made my feelings quite clear from the beginning. Did I say something today to make you feel this way?”

You’re trying to remember anything that could have triggered this type of thought, any gesture... anything, but you genuinely can’t find anything.

“This is the thing... you didn’t. You were just yourself: sweet, funny, and amazing. You reunited with your friend and all I could think was how much I want to...” He closes his eyes as if he’s fighting something inside his mind.

“Wanted to do what?” You push him to continue, happy he is finally opening up. You hate when you don’t know what he’s thinking about because you can’t reassure him like this.

“I’m a jerk, baby. I wanted to wipe off the smile on his face and take you to the car to fuck you. It’s immature, I know.” He brings his hands to his hair and he pulls. And pulls. “But I’ve never had this urge before. It was eating me alive.”

“You were jealous of Mickey?”

“I was, yeah,” he admits immediately. “The way he looked at you, the familiarity, the jokes... you giggled at his comments, and I thought I am gonna make a scene right there and then fuck you until you’re so full with my come you start dripping.”

That surprises you even more. You didn’t expect him to be jealous, especially not on this level since he’s always calm and collected, and you’re the one going crazy. And him wanting to fuck you with this urgency? It makes it even more interesting.

“He smiled quite a lot, didn’t he?” You bring your hand casually to his chest again. “Well, we know each other after all. He was one of my professors’ assistant, remember?”

Oh, how can he forget?

“Yeah, I remember very well, baby, trust me.”

“Should I tell you a little secret?” You move your fingers up until they reach his bottom lip. You want to distract him, to push him to get what he wants, ao you can see more of this side of him. “I kinda had a crush on him. He was like the hottest guy in my classes, you know?”

She immediately notices a flicker of darkness in his eyes, as if she’s just touched a nerve.

“You had a crush on him, huh?” He asks through his teeth, but not aggressively at all, more like challenging. He probably knows what you’re trying to do, but he still responds.

“Yep.” You grin playfully. “A huge one. My first real crush to be honest.”

“You’re enjoying this.” Bucky shakes his head, smiling.

“I don’t enjoy you thinking I’d be embarrassed to be seen with you.”

Surprisingly, he grabs your waist, pulling you toward him. You whimper when your breasts crush against his chest but stay still.

“You know exactly what I meant, don’t play.”

“And I see your mood changed all of a sudden.”

“Are you horny because I got jealous? Is that it, baby? You want me to-”

You groan, interrupting him, as you move your hips a little to meet his.

“I am horny because you were so close to going feral on me.”

Bucky smiles in a way you don’t think you’ve seen him smile before. It’s playful in a different way, as if he’s hiding something, and the fact you’re in the dark brings him endless satisfaction. Then he grabs your cheeks with his left hand, the coldness making you jump a little.

“You wanted me to go feral on you, huh?”

You don’t let him enjoy the moment for too long as you cover his hand just to move it lower until it rests on your neck, nothing you’ve never done before. But he surprises you again by actually squeezing the sides teasingly without taking his eyes off you.

You can’t help but whimper. You’ve wanted him to choke you for so long, but you didn’t want to push. It looks like he did too.

“Want you to go feral on me now too.”

You expect him to tease a bit longer, maybe even make you beg for it, but he doesn’t. He quickly rips your shirt in half, buttons flying eveywhere in the room, but he doesn’t give a fuck.

At least you aren’t wearing a bra, otherwise it would be ripped, too.

He’s not gentle when he turns you around by your hair, and you groan, the pain bringing pleasure, when you feel his fingers close to your roots. Your knees are suddenly weak too, but his grip on your waist as he pushes down your pants and panties at the same time keeps you on your feet.

He’s never been so fierce with you... always so careful. But you wanted this. You craved this.

“You’re gonna get it, don’t worry.” He pulls your hair again, and you moan. “Gonna make you my comeslut in a sec. Walk.”

You don’t say anything as you move to the living room quickly, with his hand still in your hair. You step out of pants and panties right before you reach the threshold. You don’t him to slow down, you want him to fuck you the way he craved it when you ran into Mickey.

“Hands and knees.”

You turn your head as much as his grip allows it and smile. “Ask me nicely and maybe I’ll consider it since you held back today. Why should I-”

But he doesn’t let you even finish your sentence as he is pulling your hair to guide you down. He’s not even doing it hard, but it makes you so wet. You love this side so fucking much.

“I’d advise you to do what you’re told.”

Even his tone is more demanding and deeper. You close your eyes and, despite your urge to be a brat again, you get on hands and knees as he told you. You want his cock more than anything.

“Like this?” You tilt your head enough so he can see your smirk, knowing the patronizing tone will drive him crazier.

“Need to fuck the attitude out of you, don’t I?” He smiles back, lowering his sweatpants. You turn your head, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing you blush.

“You can try, but we both know that’s-”

He’s not just at your entrance, he’s pushing inside you.

You gasp, surprised he did this without warning you.

“You okay?”

You nod, hoping he can see you, when he grabs your ass. He pushed only a bit, waiting for your approval.

“Bubba?” He whispers, and you can sense the worry in his voice. But you’re really wet and horny, and you want to be fucked.

“F-fine. I’m fine, keep going. Please.”

“Who?”

“James?” You try, unsure, feeling him getting inside you deeper and deeper.

“Sweetheart, that’s not what you usually like to call me, is it? Don’t lie to yourself.”

“W-what?” The way he’s filling you makes it impossible for you to focus. You can barely breathe properly.

“Aren’t you a comeslut for daddy? Why do you prolong your suffering?”

“I’m not...” you whimper, playing around. “I’m not a comeslut.”

“You’re right, you’re not. Yet.”

He starts thrusting pretty slowly, probably wanting to make sure you’re getting used to it, but his hand in your hair shows you that things aren’t going to be so tame for long.

“God, look how fucking wet you are, doll. Taking me so well, hungry for my cock.”

You whimper, thrusting your ass back because, as he speaks, he slips out of you completely, letting you empty.

“Daddy, please.”

You don’t care if your neediness is evident in your voice, Bucky already knows you’re desperate for him. And after he’s been sulking and refusing to tell you why, he owes you this.

“What?”

“Come on, fuck me. Gimmie... gimmie your cock. Pound me. Didn’t you say you were gonna go feral?”

He doesn’t need another invitation, and you realize immediately he is not going to hold back as he grabs your hips with more force than before and slams inside you. His balls hit your clit over and over again, and you moan even louder, tilting your head so he can get the hint you want him to pull your hair. But he ignores it.

He continues to fuck you without stopping, making sure to almost pull out completely a couple of times just to push back in hard, driving you crazy.

“A crush, huh? Your first real crush.” He sneaks his metal arm under your body and squeezes one of your breasts.

Jesus!

“B-Bucky!”

“Try again or I stop right fucking now. I’ll use your mouth, and you won’t get to come.”

You gasp and almost tell him he wouldn’t dare, but wouldn’t he?

“D-daddy, please. I love you.”

Even though you can’t see him, you know he’s smiling.

“Do you?”

“So much, please don’t stop.”

He’s slowing down a little so you can speak, matching his thrusts with the way he is playing with your breasts.

“You’re so adorable when you’re cockdrunk. But should I-”

“Please, I had a crush on you too.”

When he frees your breast, you want to scream. You didn’t lie, and he knew it. You had a huge crush on him as you were filming, but it was innocent and cute. The dirty thoughts started after, so why is he so annoying?

He doesn’t drop his hand, though. He moves it higher, wrapping it around your neck.

“That’s it?” He playfully squeezes the sides of your neck, and your eyes roll back in pleasure. He knows exactly what buttons to push, and the more you fuck, the better it gets. “Just a crush?”

“I love you, daddy. And I need it faster, please.”

He doesn’t just fuck you faster as you want, he also somehow fucks you deeper, his fingers tightening instinctively on your hips. You’re a moaning mess at this point, unable to say anything else but his name, and even that comes out stuttered.

You can barely keep your head straight when he starts really choking you. You expect to feel like you’re suffocating, some panic or discomfort, but his cold grip on your neck only makes it hard for you to focus on anything... impossible to think, and a little dizzy.

“You’re a fucking tease, aren’t you?”

Tears. You feel many tears leaving hot trails on your cheek. You can’t even open your eyes.

“You just wanted to be pounded so hard that you taunted daddy with his jealousy. Bad girl.”

You’re so, so close, you can barely even hear him. Your ears are ringing and you moan loudly. You have no idea how he even can speak.

“Fuck,” he whimpers when you unconsciously move your hips back to meet his thrusts, desperate for more before he slaps your ass twice. The moan you let out is so high pitched even you are surprised. “That’s what you want, isn’t it? You’re a whore for a bit of pain.”

You are. You love it with him because you trust him. You know he’d never go too far even when he’s wild and crazy like this. And that only turns you on more and more. You’re so close that you can almost taste it.

“But you’re my little baby, aren’t you? I’m the one y-you need. Fuck!”

You’re screaming before he can even finish speaking as the strongest orgasm you’ve ever experienced takes over your body. It’s a blinding pleasure you can feel everywhere: from your pussy to your head and even fingers. And the way he keeps thrusting in and out of you at the same speed prolongs it.

“D-daddy, please,” you groan when the pleasure turns into sensitivity. You want him to feel at least half as good as you do. You try to open your eyes as you tilt your head back so he can see you, but the tears make your sight blurry. “Please... c-come inside me. Give me your come, fill me up, I neeeed it.”

And while he moans your name, he does, making you realize he’s been really holding back his release all this time. He drops his hand from your neck just to grab a handful of your tit and squeeze as he comes. And comes. And comes.

“Jesus, d-doll. Take my come. Got so much for you. So, so much.”

You love how feral he is, how it feels to be used like this. You want to be his toy.

“Thank you, daddy. Thank you for your come.”

You feel the pressure and weight of his chest pressing against your back, but he doesn’t let go of your breast, fondling it gently.

“Fuck, this was...” He doesn’t even finish his sentence, trying to catch his breath. You are both sweaty and warm, but you don’t care. You love being so close to him.

“This was so fucking good, bubba. Why did you hold back all this time?”

He doesn’t answer straight away, instead he leaves a trail of kisses from your neck to the middle of your back, rising at the same time.

“Didn’t want to hurt you, bubba.”

“Told you I am not made of glass!” You try to stand up, too, but your knees are so wobbly that Bucky has to help you, wrapping his metal arm around your waist. You feel his come start to drip out little by little and you moan, scooping some of the come with two fingers and then bringing it to your lips.

You whimper the moment you get a taste, looking at Bucky to show him exactly how you feel about it. Quickly, you bring your index finger that is still covered in come to his lips, wanting to share with him.

Without hesitation, he opens his mouth, letting you smear some come on his tongue before he cleans it all by lapping at your finger.

You smile. “Promise you won’t hold back, and that you’ll talk to me the next time you feel like this. I could never be embarrassed by you or to be seen with you, bubba. You’re my baby, okay?”

Bucky smiles too, letting your finger out of his mouth with a pop. “I’m sorry, you’re right. And you’re my baby, too.”

“I know, but I was scared I did something really wrong and I didn’t...”

You don’t know how to continue, but you don’t have to as he pulls you into a tight hug, your head resting against his chest.

“I am sorry. I let the jealousy blind me because I felt insecure. I sometimes wonder if I’m enough for you.”

“Enough?” You sigh, kissing him all over his chest T-shirt. “You are everything, and you make me so happy. Please, don’t ever doubt that!”

“I’ll try, bubba, and thank you.” You feel his lips on top of your head, so you close your eyes, enjoying this moment. You’re gonna show him how much he means to you even more. “Do you feel sore?”

“A little,” you snort. “But it was soooo worth it. We have to do that again. Gosh, and the way you choked me, Mr. Barnes!”

He starts laughing at your tone, which makes you laugh too. This is your Bucky. You love him so much that you wish you could take away all of his fears and second thoughts. He is yours, and you are his.

“Noted, baby. You’re not made of glass.”

“Nope.” You break the hug just to take a step back and look around. You made a mess, and you haven’t even finished with the Christmas tree.

It’s gonna be a long evening.

“Gonna run you a bath, then we can continue with,” he waves around. “Deal?”

“Deal.”

[pinkeos]

MDNI. this was supposed to be very short but i got a little carried away😭

i can't stop thinking about amab!actor!reader and afab!mr reca practicing bed scenes😮‍💨

cause like you're not necessarily a virgin but it's your first time getting filmed doing the do so you can't help but feel nervous

fear not, though! mr reca, ever the reliable director he is, will help you practice!

he even set up a camera, with your consent, to make it feel as though it's a real shooting session. he promised the recordings won't be published, of course— the videos of you pounding him into oblivion will be for his eyes only

he gets to be fucked by one of his actors he's totally got a thing for and you get to practice, it's a win-win!

he doesn't know why you're nervous when you clearly now your way with fucking someone dumb. he get turned into a ragdoll with how relentless you are, the bed shaking with the force of your movement as you hold him and pull him down to meet your thrusts

the way you snake a hand down to rub his clit in circular motions has his back arching, his ankle hooked over your shoulder as his toes curl. he's supposed to deliver a few lines in between moans like how it was on the script, but his brain's already reduced into a mush that the only thing he can call out is your name and a mantra of ‘more!’

and you can't stop, not when he looks so good and ruined underneath you. as a director, he was in control of the set. but you felt a sense of pleasure at how he's completely under your control whenever you were balls deep inside him

your hand held onto his hip, the other delivering slaps against his clit that has him squirming— a mix of yours and his cum gushing out of the puffy lips of his cunt enveloping your cock

and of course, the camera was capturing everything. from the way you grabbed his jaw to connect your mouths, to the way his eyes rolled back when he came again, and to the way your semen leaked out of him when you pulled out, his thighs twitching

mr reca has a maniacal grin on his face when you moan out his name on the actual filming set instead of the actor's you were doing it with

[corrodedcoffins-blog]

'It Couple'

masterlist

note: my first andrew ask!!!

warnings: none!

word count: 850~

♡ summary: Where Andrew and Y/n are the 'it couple' of Hollywood

♡ Andrew Garfield x actress/director!reader

request ✓

The loud clicks as well as the bright flashes only got louder and brighter after Andrew and Y/n stepped out of their car, heading into the venue. It was understandable, both were up for very prestigious awards tonight, Andrew for best actor and Y/n for directing as well as writing. But of course paparazzi didn’t care about that, they wanted what sold, and pictures of the couple sold.

The couple was also making their first appearance since their ten year anniversary, they had co-starred in Spider-man together. They were twenty-eight then and both in that place in life to settle down with someone, while still putting their best foot forward for their careers. They fit together like pieces of a puzzle, like she was the espresso and he was the milk to a cappuccino.

It took them a while to get married, only being three years of marriage in a ten year relationship, many people at the time pushed for them to take that step. But they knew what was right for them, and they both grew tired of saying ‘boyfriend’ and ‘girlfriend’ when they could be saying ‘husband’ and ‘wife’.

It took them a while to get married, only being three years of marriage in a ten year relationship, many people at the time pushed for them to take that step. But they knew what was right for them, and they both grew tired of saying ‘boyfriend’ and ‘girlfriend’ when they could be saying ‘husband’ and ‘wife’.

Throughout the carpet they whispered sweet nothings and little jokes only they would understand. It was something the internet loved, how, unlike some celebrity couples, you could see the love in their eyes. After ten years it has never left, forever stuck in the honeymoon phase while knowing each other like the back of their hand.

After what felt like an hour, they finally made their way into the venue, venturing out of their seats to mingle, but mostly enjoying the night out together in peace. Not trying to think about the awards they were nominated for.

-

It was now the end of the night, both a little tipsy, Y/n already won for best original screenplay. But now was for the big awards, two of which the couple were nominated for, only making it all the more nerve racking.

“And best directing goes to…” The booming voice on stage spoke, of course stalling as they always did for dramatic affect. It was as if a Y/n was no longer there, like she was merely watching at home on a screen, dreaming she was the director to win.

The only indication it had been announced, is the warm and firm hug Andrew brought her into. Leaving a kiss on her forehead in congratulation, but also of pride. His wife won best director.

“Love, I am so proud of you. You deserve this.”

His words brought her back to life, as they always did, looking up at him she left a kiss on his lips, herself and him whispering ‘I love you’s against each other's soft lips. They didn’t care that they were on live TV, they were celebrating. After quickly getting hugs from the cast and crew that were there, Y/n made her way up the stage, accepting the award.

“I truly just had an out of body experience. This has been a dream since I was- god like thirteen, when I took my first film class. Mrs. Goldstone, thank you for fighting for that class to be given at my school. If it wasn’t I wouldn't be here. And to my husband, Andrew, I wouldn’t be here if you didn’t push me to pursue directing six years ago. I love you.”

After thanking the cast and crew, as well as the academy, Y/n made her way off the stage. Only to run backstage to her seat, not wanting to miss the best actor award.Coming back to her seat she was huffing and puffing from all the running, “What? Did you run here?” “Yes, actually.”

Turning his head, left another string of kisses from the woman’s forehead to her check, “I’m so proud of you.”

“And the nominees for best actor!” The camera panned to the respective actors as the man on stage read off the names, “And the award for best actor goes to… Andrew Garfield! Tick, Tick… Boom!”

Both rose from their chairs, smiling widely, and bringing each other into a tight hug, “My turn to be proud. You deserve this, I love you.” “I love you.”

Andrew made his way to the stage this time, accepting the award, shaking the hands out everyone on stage before he made his way to the microphone, “I just can only say thank you. I know everyone says it, but I did not see this coming. I want to thank every member of the cast as well as the crew, you made this movie possible. And Lin, thank you, I love working with you. And my wife, who lied to Lin when he asked her if I could sing. Without you immediately lying for me, this wouldn’t be possible. I love you.”

[emeritus-fuckers]

Hello 👋😄

I've been thinking how would the director ask you to marry him and the wedding?

The Director proposing and marrying his s/o

He wouldn't.👍

~

Written by Zenith and Nosferatu.

Taglist: @charlie-is-a-menace @copias-fluffy-asscheeks @randodummy @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @calliedion-dungeon @randominstake @callmeicaro @thecuriouss @nuntia @dio-niisio @mamacarlyle

[ibelieveinvillainsupremacy]

AWWW THANK YOU!!! I LOVE YOUR ACCOUNT ASWELL! That makes me so happy 😄,

But back to the request,

If it's alright, could I ask for The Director x Reader who is one of the guests who signed a waiver for his infestation show? I know this might be a cringy situation but perhaps reader is his s/o and when he gets the list of participants he sees their name and is like, “🧍wtf starlight?" because they wanted to watch him perform and see how he interacts with guests.

I apologize if this is all over the place and doesn’t make sense so feel free to ignore this 😭

OMG I LOVE THISSS I HAVE SO MANY HEADCANONS-

Thank you for loving my account,, it makes me so happy 😭

Here's your idea written with my headcanons, hope you like it <3

🎥 It started as a normal day, as normal as Paulo's day could be. He was reading the list of participants for his newest performance, one of his most iconic ones, that took him a lot of work, restless hours of time, and finally he had the chance to just find a good subject, a perfect victim for his work. 🎥Nothing was different from all the other lists he got during all his years, until he saw someone. 🎥He saw non-other than his love, his masterpiece, one of the very true things that he loved more than filming (Shocking, insn't it?) 🎥And you were in the list. Your name was in the list. Of the partecipants. Of his show. Either you had completely lost it, or you just wanted to see the love of your life once again being the most incredible directors of all time. 🎥Turns out it was the second one. Because you lost it, you were head over heels for Paulo since you two first met. 🎥And it was shocking that you never, EVER, saw him perform. 🎥Not even once. 🎥Although he wasn't truly convinced on letting you see his process, (mainly because he was afraid of being completely distracted by you and your eyes, your face, your li-) he eventually gave up, and let you see him. 🎥Needless to say, you fell even harder. 🎥The way he simply moved, spoke, and showed how much he truly enjoyed giving himself fully to his passion left you speechless and whipped 🎥You were even more whipped when he slowly got close to you, and he moved his camera softly across your face, and you were so close to literally get on stage and give him the show of his life uhhh and even put yourself inside his bathtub and become one of his actors, because he just was so beautiful, smiling brightly at the crowd. 🎥Giving them- and you- one night they would never forget. 🎥And the best thing of all? As soon as he finished his performance, blood on his clothes and some even splattered across his face, he and you went into a quiet and alone place, 🎥While brushing a wild strand of pitch black hair from his face, he pulled you close to him, giving you a quick and soft kiss, and after smearing red while trying to clean you up, he said 🎥"Starlight, what do you think of a solo show? I still have some drafts that I would like to let you see."

[adalwolfgang]

Slithers in here. Can I request some romantic hcs for The Director,,,,like how he would treat his partner :0

The Director [Paulo Ravinski] | Romantic Headcanons

"You oughtta be in pictures..."

𝘏𝘦 𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘯𝘦𝘳. 𝘏𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘶𝘱 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 (𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘭 𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴), 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘴. 𝘐𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘯𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘗𝘢𝘶𝘭𝘰'𝘴 𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘭𝘮𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴. 𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘧 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥.

𝘐𝘯 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘯 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘥𝘦𝘱𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘭𝘮𝘴. 𝘏𝘦'𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘧𝘭𝘢𝘸𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘭𝘮𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘦 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘴. 𝘏𝘦 𝘪𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘴𝘮 𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘺, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘢𝘥𝘷𝘪𝘤𝘦, 𝘩𝘦'𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘵.

𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘗𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯. 𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘩𝘦'𝘭𝘭 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘰 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦𝘥. 𝘚𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘭𝘢𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦'𝘭𝘭 𝘨𝘰 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘭𝘮. 𝘈𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘭𝘮 𝘴𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸.

𝘋𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘩𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘏𝘏𝘕 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘗𝘢𝘶𝘭𝘰 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘻𝘰𝘯𝘦, 𝘪𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘵𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘮 "𝘢𝘤𝘵". 𝘈𝘴 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥, 𝘩𝘦'𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘨𝘰 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘖𝘯 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘤𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘸 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘤 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶, "𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘵𝘢 𝘣𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘴…", 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘢𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 "𝘧𝘪𝘭𝘮 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘢" 𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘋𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘴 𝘩𝘦'𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢�� 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴.

𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵, 𝘗𝘢𝘶𝘭𝘰 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘶𝘱, 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘣𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘢𝘸𝘬𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴. 𝘏𝘦'𝘭𝘭 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘩𝘦'𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘻𝘦 𝘢 𝘧𝘦𝘸 𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦. 𝘐𝘵 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘭 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘤 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘐𝘧 𝘪𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘩𝘦'𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘭 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘭 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴.

𝘏𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘣𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘪𝘴.

[euphoriesx]

smau - your baby takes HIS phone!

ft: gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, toji fushiguro

warnings: reader is referred to as mama

notes: rahhh i litt cooked to get this second part out

victim no1: gojo satoru

victim no2: geto suguru

victim no3: nanami kento

victim no4: toji fushiguro

[cheralith]

— these violent delights

feat ; director!nanami kento x assistant director!reader | word count ; 1.9k contains ; gn!reader, no pronouns used, angst, pining (men who yearn are men who earn), mild making out (suggestive) a/n ; some minor errors possible sorry! (シ_ _ )シ

RENOWNED WORLD CLASS DIRECTOR KENTO NANAMI commands his production teams of every movie he creates with an iron fist, and his hard work pays off considering the majority of his films and their actors have been nominated for tonys, BAFTAs, golden globes, you name it. and when it's rumored that he'll be directing his largest project yet—a modern re-enactment of romeo and juliet. it's no doubt that many people are anticipating for its arrival, considering that despite shakespeare's most famous production having multiple versions, but nanami's style of production is distinct that it will for sure stand alone as its own film that isn't just another lazy and cliche remake.

which is why the production studio figures that he may need some extra aid, which is why they hand-pluck an upcoming creative genius that may just rival his own—a young filmmaker a few years fresh out of grad school. your short films have won some minor awards since you earned your first degree and the studio thought that your mind with his would be a perfect match.

and ultimately, they're right. introductions were a little awkward, of course, it was clear you were trying not to burst at the seams when you met one of your all-time favorite directors, but you eventually prove yourself worthy and dependable. your input proves to be the most valuable out of everyone's on the team. nanami seems to only listen to you whenever he needs a second opinion, blatantly shooing away anyone else in line.

you work with nanami privately at times, joining him at his townhouse to discuss the next project on the movie. others that have worked with him for a while have never seen the normally stoic and stern director be so... warm to another person before. even his closest colleagues often don't see nanami so unbelievably attentive when someone suggests for him to do something even the slight bit different from what we original had in mind.

"i don't know," you murmured to him once, shifting the different panels of the storyboard around. "i think we can have this scene first, it'd build more suspense."

from behind you, nanami grew quiet, scanning the order of the frames before nodding and agreeing and gently cupping your smaller hand that grips the plastic frame, shifting it backwards. "i agree, i think having a pause between romeo and juliet's first interactions will keep the viewers on their toes just a while longer. especially since that's what they're all waiting for."

it was clear to everyone—except you and nanami—that there was something more between you and him. it was difficult to hold a conversation with nanami that wasn't about the film production, but when you spend the first few shy hours of the morning yapping about a new restaurant you visited over the weekend, it shocked everyone when he showed you a soft smile and said he'd like to visit it sometime (he says the "with you" part in his head).

his affections for you were rather apparent, considering he'd always ask aloud, "where's my AD?" before shooting every single scene, like your approval was the only one that mattered. at some points in time during the production, some of the crew members witnessed you and him alone at certain moments both in and out of the studio. you ate lunch with him, went out with him for a seemingly casual dinner, usually worked on him alone in his trailer that was always locked to him and him alone, until one stage manager discovered you had a spare key to it when you fetched a spare script for him that he left on his desk.

rumors spread fast, but when interrogated about it, nanami simply told them that he just wanted to help out an aspiring young director out by his own means.

"a potential like that must be nurtured in the best possible way," he'd retort. "rest assured that everything is professional between us. teetering that line benefits no one."

but oh, how nanami despised saying that. how nanami wish those rumors of you being his secret lover were true, that you and him had a relationship beyond just mere co-workers. how you and him consistently teeter the lines between what is appropriate. how he so badly wants to cross it with you, envelope you in his arms and kiss you just as passionately as romeo and juliet did when they first met at the ball.

you're a more free version of him, more passionate, more loving—all the things he wishes he was more. his ideas and ways of going about were traditional, but he found a spark with how rambunctious and spontaneous you were. he adored how you would do something on the whim and how so utterly unique your ideas were. he'd never met anyone like you before.

he caught himself staring at your back when you carefully direct the actors in such a way that accomplishes his vision in one-go, how you weren't afraid to try new things to see what would happen. you were poised and meticulous about your craft, despite your disposition. and it proved to be more difficult than it seemed when nanami tried to fight his affections off for his assistant director.

because at the end of the day, he knew you and him were much too different. he knew that it would be unprofessional to be running about behind scenes with a fellow, esteemed co-worker, knowing how that may look to everyone else; a younger, amateur director fooling around with a distinguished, honored one. while you were only a sparse few years younger than him, from the naked eye, you could just simply be another young creative using their charm to get ahead in the game, despite nanami knowing all too well you had more than just charisma to you and that there was no such flattery involved between your relationship.

and even though his own films their actors have been nominated and won a plethora of awards, he has yet to receive a credential of his own name. all of nanami's work and energy was pouring into this project to prove himself as a director worthy of one of the highest titles the film industry could offer—the academy award for best director. love is distracting, relationships are distracting. and he can't be having distractions for his most highly-anticipated film yet.

he can't afford to ruin his and your reputations at the cost of his pleasure, for these violent delights and have violent ends.

he knows he should put a distance between you and him. that the line of professionalism and personalism should be kept strictly at bay.

until it all comes tumbling down one night. choosing to film the most tense scenes last so the actors had proper time to get comfortable with each other, you and him are quietly rehearsing a very loose version of act two, scene two—the famous balcony scene—to properly get a grasp of what he was looking for before the official shooting.

you're seated beside him on the couch, a script for each of you, rehearsing the lines of a longing juliet. "how camest thou hither, tell me, and wherefore? the orchard walls are high and hard to climb."

your eyes flicker up when you pause, your former diction faltering a bit when you notice his hazel eyes staring at you so... warmly through his reading glasses, as if he's hanging on to each and every word despite hearing these lines a plethora of times.

"um," you clear your throat, feeling a slight shiver go down your spine when you and him bump knees on the couch, neither of you moving. "a-and the place death, considering who thou art, if any of my kinsmen find thee here."

nanami adjusts his script before speaking his lines as romeo.

"with love's light wings, did i o'erperch these walls," he begins and you quietly admire at how punctual his delivery is when he delivers his lines. his eyes go up to share your gaze again and he curses himself when he briefly looks at your lips, plump and almost inviting.

suddenly he remembers how close you are to him, that only a hairs breadth lie between your body and his. amidst the yellow light of the lamp and the quiet night that stirs outside the trailer, suddenly you appear a little more beautiful than usual.

"... kento?" you call out quietly, tilting your head oh-so charmingly to the side when he falters from his continuing line. the way you say his name startles him, even though he's been allowing you to call him on a first-name basis for a few months now. but even though, it stills feels so right when you say it.

"sorry," he coughs, adjusting his glasses and returning his gaze back to the script. "for stony limits cannot hold love out; and what love can do..."

he can't help himself. his head doesn't budge, but his eyes still return back to your visage, where a look of what seems to be yearning is painted over. he swallows. although he's reading these lines as romeo, something about them seems so sentimental that he feels like he's saying it to you directly, not juliet.

without looking back at the script and instead, meeting your eyes, he mutters, "... that dares love attempt."

it's your turn to swallow thickly, trying your absolute best to regulate your shallow breathing as his body nears yours.

he knows, he knows damn well that there's still the line between you and him. it wears down with every interaction he has to you to his dismay, and it still stands before you and him, but it's thin. it's so thin that it's barely there. akin to a strand from a spider's web, all nanami has to do is wave it over and it's knocked down—it's just his decision whether he wants to leave it alone and let it stand as it or destroy it down completely from his urges.

his body moves on his own. with the only border separating you two being the space between the two couch cushions you and him sit on, he crosses it with his arm that is moving on its own to the warmth of your cheek. his mind is screaming to not go further, to respect the line, to ensure no distractions, to secure that academy award, but his heart's longing overpowers it, and nanami isn't so sure if he wants to silent it. not when you look this ethereal from the light of the lamp.

you don't seem frightened. you're actually allowing him to do what he wants, and that you don't move away when his hand gently cups your cheek, his thumb stroking the cusp of your cheekbone so tenderly, so lovingly.

"therefore," he whispers, his skin on fire when your own hand goes to hold his that holds your face in the same manner. your eyes hold a certain longing, one that he mirrors from behind his reading glasses.

the line reduces to an invisible, flimsy string.

"...thy kinsmen," he brings your face closer to his and he drops his script entirely on the floor, your own following shortly after. the distance closes in; it's still there, but it's so small enough that you're able to feel his breath on your lips, and the gap between you shrinks with each millisecond. up until your hearts conjoin as one with each other through your chests.

"... are no stop to me."

the line is now nothing but a concept.

and he kisses you so deeply, hungrily, ardently. until his lungs are pining for air other than your own. parting is such sweet sorrow, indeed, because when you disconnect from him for a brief moment, it only takes a short second before nanami pulls you into him again.

[creamecafe]

GUYS HIDE YOUR FANFICTIONS. ALL THE SMUT AND HEADCANONS HIDE IT. THE DIRECTOR KNOWS OF THE EDITS

[imdoingsortagay]

I have been having some thoughts about film director! Agatha who sees actress! Reader performing a sex scene with the lead actor of Agatha’s film. So Agatha makes Reader get alone with her at the end with the excuse that she wants to help Reader to improve her scenes and takes advantage to have sex with Reader. I would like to request it, if you're okay with the idea

Director Agatha Harkness x reader

Warnings : daddy kink , top agatha and mention of Bucky Barnes

18+ plus

Also I’ll write a part two if people like this

“ Cut “

The crew and everyone else on set groaned after you yet again messed up during the sex scene.

The upper executives really wanted to cast someone else but Agatha had seen something in you when you auditioned for the role of the innocent protagonist. Coming in with the script with as much confidence you can muster, perfectly dressed for the role.

“ I’m so sorry -“ is all your costar can hear , nerves getting the best of you as he tries to kiss you. It’s not your fault that his demeanor is making you mess up.

“ can you just suck it up y/l/n and do the fucking scene you little bi-“

“ Barnes get the fuck outta my set” Agatha screams at your costar while you watch, both in awe and a bit of fear.

“ Harkness we need this scene to be done with in 2 days , kicking out Barnes isn’t gonna help out the situation-“ Steve blurts out but the woman stops him from saying anything else that’ll piss him off.

“ Everyone take their lunch “ you see the direction point to the door “ and then we’ll start where he left off”.

The room is empty within seconds, Agatha composing herself as she notices you had some time to put your shirt on at least. God you looked to sweet and innocent in bed like that.

She was gonna ruin you for anyone else.

“ do you mind if I sit next to you honey ? I wanna help you out” and you immediately nod.

Agatha slowly creeps onto the big king size bed, giving you a couple of feet away as to not scare you away. She was once in your spot once , an innocent little thing in Hollywood who just wanted to be the best she could be.

“ I don’t know why Barnes is so mean to me ,” you start off ,” he kept making jokes when we met with the sex scene cordinator”.

“ he forgets he was once starting off sweetheart, you just need someone with more experience to give you that confidence right darling?”

You would be lying if you said that the way Agatha was treating you didn’t make you head over heels in the moment. Nobody in Hollywood had shown you this much helpfulness since you got here, you did need help with your sex scenes.

“I just wanna be good ms Harkness,” you pause ,” all I hope is that I’m not interrupting the filming schedule”

“ oh baby I’m the fucking director of this movie , not to mention the studio gave them a good amount of time to film so we can take all the time to work on this”.

Agatha takes your hands , helping move you from the spot you were sitting on to her lap. To be honest, it felt a bit nice to sit on her lap and not Barnes lap as he never seem to know how to be as gentle as the woman who’s laps your on.

“ baby ,” you hear Agatha say to you ,” all you have to do now is listen to daddy okay ?”.

You nod

“ Daddy knows what’s best for you baby “ the woman mumbles. You’re an innocent little baby in her arms and her main goal was to not make you more nervous that you had to be.

All you can do is quietly sit in the older woman’s lap as her hands move all around your body, never daring to move under your oversized shirt.

“ ms harkness what are you doing?” You ask the woman who only smiles.

“ I just wanna get you comfortable with my hands all over your body okay doll ? Also when it’s just the two of us you call me daddy” and it would be a lie to say you didn’t blush at the name she gave herself.

“ Okay ,” you hesitate for a second,” Daddy , just wanna be good for you “.

“ I know you do doll, is it okay if I kiss you now ?”

Agatha smiles when you imminently nod, trying so hard not to groan when your soft lips land on hers. What surprises the director is when you put your hands around her neck, pushing yourself into the kiss like a desperate little thing wanting her to use her.

“ fuck baby,” Agatha groans as you pull away a blushing mess,” you can kiss me with so much need but not your costar baby ? Does he not make you comfortable enough?”

“ Barnes is mean to me daddy,” you mumble,” he thinks cause I only know how to kiss that im unexperienced”.

Agatha grabs your chins and tilts your head so that you’re looking at her, plump lips with doe like eyes who wants to be a good little bunny for their daddy. Oh Agatha was gonna have so much fun with you .

“ Daddy’s gonna help you get comfy okay bunny?”

This was not the right time for your head to feel like it’s spinning, floating or whatever you can think as the older woman gives you the pet name. It feels nice

“ you’re only allowed to think about Daddy and nothing else bunny,” Agatha starts off as she lays you down on the bed, groan quietly when she realizes that you have no shorts under the oversized shirt.

“ just let me kiss you all over bunny,” Agatha mumbles as she kisses your neck , one of her arms moving in between your thighs but daring not to go anywhere near your aching heat.

Slow and steady wins the race Harkness, you can’t fuck you like the rest of the girls you do out of work.

The feeling of her hands make you squirm under her. You’ve only had two partners in the past who never went past sloppy make out second , who never made you feel as good as Agatha is at the moment.

“ take your shirt off for daddy sweet bunny,” and without a second thought you swiftly take off the shirt, a grunt coming out of the older woman’s mouth when she sees you aren’t wearing a bra underneath that.

“ fuck daddy,” the woman hears you mumble , too afraid to make a noise as she sucks in your nipples. It was going to be a challenge for you not to be loud considering where the both of you were.

“ can daddy start touching your pussy baby ?”

“ you gotta be good for daddy baby,” you feel one of her long fingers makes patterns on your left thigh,” cmon baby! Just let me make you feel good and then once you film the sex scene then the two of us can head over to my place , can I darling ?”

“ yes daddy “

Oh this is gonna be fun