#actor fic
Text
home for christmas
pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader
summary: You had resigned yourself to spending this christmas alone, when a sudden visitor surprises you…
warnings: none, just teeth rotting fluff
wordcount: 1625 words
a/n: yes, i know the title is very kitschy, very cheesy, but i think that’s what christmas calls for! enjoy <3
You were home alone, about to spend christmas eve alone. Your boyfriend, Tom Hiddleston, was currently at his parents’ house, enjoying christmas with his family, hours away from you.
Being alone didn’t bother you. You never really celebrated Christmas and often only went to some Christmas dinners hosted by friends. This year though you got 0 invitations. But of course, you couldn’t tell that your boyfriend, because he would have insisted on bringing you to his parents’ house for dinner and you didn’t feel ready for that yet, so here you were.
You were currently laying on the couch, waiting for the frozen pizza in your oven to heat up and watching Love Actually for what felt like the 1000th time. It never got boring though.
You were about to check on your pizza when you heard a knock on the door.
Who the hell was at your door at this time on Christmas eve? With furrowed brows you went to the door, assuming it was the old lady from next door needing something.
But when you actually looked though the peephole, you couldn’t believe your eyes.
You threw open the door and saw your boyfriend and his trusty companion Bobby standing at your door.
Tom was holding wrapped packages and a bouquet full of fresh flowers in his hands. When you saw that he was wearing a Santa hat you couldn‘t contain the small giggle that threatened to surpass your lips
You didn‘t waste any more time and threw yourself into his waiting arms, making him drop the gifts as well as the flowers to embrace you. The two of you were enjoying this moment for a little while, just standing in the hallway holding each other.
"What the hell are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be with your parents?“, you asked in disbelief, pulling away a bit so you could look into his face.
„Oh, darling, when I heard that you were spending this special evening alone, I couldn’t let that happen.”, he explained to you and at sawing your puzzled expression he continued. “Ben told me, and I knew what I had to do. I wouldn’t be able to spend a happy and jolly Christmas with my parents, if I knew that you would be alone. And of course, I also brought Bobby.”
The dog was sitting next to you, waiting for you to finally acknowledge and pet him. But before you could turn your attention to the dog at your feet you still had something to take care of.
You turned your gaze back to the man in front of you and lurched forward again, to engage him into a passionate kiss. You hoped you could express everything you felt for him in this moment with this kiss. He returned the kiss with just as much passion, the presents and the flowers long forgotten.
After a moment you had to pull back for air, so you decided to actually go into your flat and not just stand in the hallway of your apartment building.
Bobby entered first, excitedly running to his designated spot next to the TV, while you helped Tom with the presents and entered as well.
Tom put the presents under the tree, next to the ones you put there, even though you both knew you were going to open them in the next minutes, your excitement taking over.
But before that happened, you both took a seat on the couch, cuddling up together, the noise from the TV falling into the background.
“What did your parents say when you told them you were gonna ditch christmas?”, you asked him, even though, secretly of course, you were glad he was here with you right now.
“Well, I didn’t really ditch them, darling. I was already there since the morning, as you know, and when I received the message from Ben in the afternoon, I couldn’t stay there.”, your heart grew warmer and warmer as he continued and you were sure he could feel your strong heartbeat against his ribcage, where you were currently resting, “I told them that you were alone and even though they were a bit sad, they knew that they couldn’t keep me from coming to you. So, I jumped into the car and went directly here. With Bobby of course.”
At hearing his name, the dog got up and plopped down in between the two of you, making a giggle leave your lips.
You turned your gaze to your boyfriend again, a sheepish grin making its way onto your face, before it dropped.
“Oh my God, fuck!”, you screamed before practically jumping up and running into the kitchen. Tom wasn’t far behind you, alarmed by your sudden action. When he entered the kitchen behind you, he could see you kneeling in front of the oven, taking out a burnt pizza.
You put it into the sink before locking eyes with your boyfriend. You both burst out laughing, taking the incident with humour.
“Well, I think we need to order some food.”, you said after you finally calmed down enough to speak again.
“Yes, darling I think we should.”, Tom answered before adding with a boyish grin, “But before we do that, I think we should check what Santa has put under the tree for us.”
You rolled your eyes but followed him into the living room, excitement starting to bloom in your chest again.
“Open yours first.”, you told Tom, unsure of his reaction. It had taken quite some time to find it, but once you did, you knew he would love it.
He kneeled in front of the tree, carefully removing the present that has his name on the tag.
He made a show out of shaking it, weighing it in his hand and checking to see if he could guess what it is.
“Now open it, I think I’m more excited than you right now, to be honest.”, you told him, crouching down next to him on the floor.
He gave you a smile before carefully opening the present neatly at the points where you put the tape.
He put away the paper now holding three old books in his hand. His brows furrowed for a moment before he realised what it was, and a grin broke out on his face.
He was now holding an antique and leather-bound trilogy of Shakespeare’s Histories, Tragedies and Comedies from 1899, which cost you a small fortune. But the sheer look on his face made ever penny worth it.
He was speechless for a moment, putting two of the books down into his lap before he carefully flipped through the first book. After he looked at the books for a few moments, he put them aside to face you.
“Thank you so much, darling. This means a lot to me and had to cost you a fortune. You really didn’t have to.”, he told you truthfully before placing a longing kiss on your lips.
“Don’t worry about it, I know you’ve been eyeing some of his older copies for some time, so I’m glad I could add to your collection.”, you assured him, glad he liked it.
“I really love it. And now open your presents.”, the almost childish grin appearing on his face again.
You took the first one and carefully opened the present, just like he had done it moments before.
“Are you teasing me?”, Tom asked you in fake shock.
“Me? I wouldn’t even dream of it!”, you told him in after gasping, making you both laugh.
You had finally opened it completely and where now holding a velvet box in your hand. You knew there was going to be jewellery in it, but that didn’t keep you from being shocked from what’s inside of the red box.
You let out a real gasp this time when you saw the beautiful gold necklace that sat on a plump cushion. The necklace was simple but had a charm on it that resembled one of your favourite books. You could even open it and there were small pages with some of the words from the book engraved.
You felt very flattered that he remembered such a small detail but weren’t really surprised as he knew you like the back of his hand.
Tom watched you in amazement as you observed the necklace and as you took it out of its box. You inched closer to him and held the necklace out to him.
“Would you put it on me, please?”, you asked him.
“Of course, darling.”, he answered while he took the necklace out of your hand. You pulled your hair up and turned your head around so he could clasp it properly.
You could feel his featherlight touches at the back of your neck as he adjusted the necklace. When he pulled away you turned around again looking at him with a smile on your lips.
“It’s beautiful, thank you so much!”, you assured him.
“Well, it’s a beautiful necklace for a beautiful girl. I think it fits perfectly.”, his words made a slight blush creep up your face, and you turned your attention to the other present to conceal it.
You unwrapped a special edition of the book on your necklace. It was a beautiful hardcover, with illustrations and gold details on the cover. Just like him you flipped through the pages, already excited for the next reread.
The smile still hasn’t left your face as you thanked him for the book and again for the necklace.
Now done with the presents, you ordered some food and decided to rewatch Love Actually, as he had disturbed your watching. Though, if you were being honest, you didn’t mind the distraction at all.
a/n: i hope you liked this, if so please leave some notes, likes, reblogs and comments! feedback is very appreciated!
please also consider supporting my ao3: @ softestqueeen
taglist: @silvermagnolias @milywatermelon @BigBananaa
#ao3#fluff#love#mcu#marvel#x reader#no y/n#reader insert#Tom Hiddleston#Christmas#Bobby#holidays#Tom Hiddleston fluff#xmas#actor fic#actor
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Can I request a fluffy Joe Mazzello × fem. reader long fic where reader is Joe's girlfriend and surprise visits him while he's staying at his mom's house and reader greets his mom at the door and Joe’s mom invites her in and they chat for a little bit and she tells reader where Joe is and when reader finds him, she finds him in his room sitting at his desk doing a live on his phone?
Good Interruptions
Fandom: RPF, American Actor,
Pairing: Joe Mazzello x Reader
Characters: Joe Mazzello, Virginia Mazzello, Reader
Word Count: 1201 // Rating: Gen
Summary: Joe's viewers get more than they bargain for.
Tags/ Warnings: Fluff, Christmas, New Year, Long Distance Relationship, Kissing, Established Relationship, Parents, Imagining Joe lives in queens no idea if thats right but we move, Live Videos, Vlogger, Requested Fic, Requests,
Notes: here you go @borhapgirlforlife19. 2nd one might take me a minute because I'm back to work tomorrow x
‘Just here is fine,’ I said as my uber driver pulled up to the kerb. I grabbed my bag and climbed out onto the sidewalk, watching as he drove off. I turned to look at the house. It was a midsize building, in a jam-packed neighbourhood, with houses close by on either side. Though the New Year had rolled in there were still Christmas lights hanging and a wreath on the door providing a bit of cheer to the otherwise drab January backdrop. I climbed the small steps to the front door and knocked awaiting a response. I could hear movement inside and I waited, trying not to shiver as the bitter cold started getting to my exposed hands and face.
Suddenly the door yanked open to reveal a slim woman. Her ashy blonde hair was hanging around her face, pushed back on top by a set of glasses that seemed to be out of use. Her face broke into a smile as she saw me.
‘Y/N! Hi!’ she said with a smile.
‘Hey,’ I said awkwardly as she leaned in to give me a hug. As she pulled back she shivered and gestured for me to follow her inside.
‘Come on let's get off the doorstep,’ she said as she led me into the house. The living room was conjoined with the kitchen which she walked to motioning for me to take a seat on the recliner. I dropped down into it as she pottered around the kitchen.
‘Do you want a drink? Coffee? Water? Soda?’ she said.
‘Waters fine,’ I said. She nodded and went to the fridge to grab me a bottle. As she did I took the chance to look around the room. It was very cosy. Books made up most of one wall but the others were all cluttered with pictures, mostly of her kids. Joe and his sibling's school photos made up a good chunk of another wall. I smiled at his young, cheeky face grinning back at me. I was pulled back to reality as she handed me a bottle of water and sat down on the couch opposite me.
‘You found the house okay then?’ she said. I nodded, ‘yeah, I just told the uber where to go. It was fine.’
‘Oh I hate that you had to even use an uber,’ she said, ‘getting here from the airport can be a nightmare, I wish you’d let Joe collect you.’
‘I don’t mind,’ I shrugged, ‘I wanted it to be a surprise so it’s not a big deal.’
‘He’s going to be so excited,’ she said with a smile, ‘he’s been such a grump with you apart for the holidays.’
‘Me too,’ I said glumly.
My holiday hadn’t been the best. We had planned to come to Joe’s mom's for Christmas and the New Year. Our tickets had been booked and everything. And then my boss threw a spanner in the works and wrecked our plans. I was stuck working for most of the holiday and even some of the new year. Joe had been heartbroken and offered to cancel his plans to go home. Knowing how much he loved Christmas and how tough his mother found the holidays I told him not to. After all, we’d barely see each other anyway it didn’t make sense for him to stay. That didn’t mean I hadn’t missed him though. So, as the new year rolled in I booked a spate of holidays and then a flight to New York with only his mother in the know.
‘Did you have a nice Christmas?’ she said. I nodded not wanting to let onto how it had been a quiet and if not boring day without her son.
‘We did too though Joey hasn’t stopped talking about you,’ she said with a fond smile.
‘I missed him too,’ I said.
‘I bet,’ she said before she looked at me with surprise and said, ‘gosh, listen to me rabbiting on when you probably just wanna see Joe.’
‘I don’t mind,’ I lied.
‘Oh sweetie don’t be silly!’ she said, ‘he’s in his room. Upstairs, last door on the left.’
I smiled and nodded climbing out of my chair. I didn’t want to appear rude but I also sort of wanted to run full pelt down that hallway and into Joe’s arms. I walked upstairs to the dimly lit hallway, to the door I was destined for. I smiled as I looked at the stickers on it that spelt out ‘Joe’s Room’ though they were somewhat faded, evidently having been there for some time. I didn’t knock. Instead, I unlatched the door and pushed it open.
Joe was sitting in his room, at a desk, his laptop and phone in front of him. His phone was on a stand and he was recording something. He seemed lost in whatever it was for a moment before his mind seemed to catch up and he noticed me standing in the corner of the room. He turned, forgetting the camera altogether as he leapt up and headed towards me pulling me into his so he could kiss me.
It was sweet and tender but I could feel the longing in it, the same longing I had been feeling. As I pulled back he was beaming at me.
‘What are you doing here?!’ he asked.
‘Surprise,’ I giggled, still in his arms.
‘When? How? I thought-’
‘I got some time off. And I realised I missed you so much and I didn't want to wait another few days before you come home so I messaged your mom and we arranged this,’ I said. He nodded and smiled though his face fell a little as he seemed to remember the camera rolling in the corner of the room.
‘Uh,’ he said turning back to the camera, ‘sorry about that.’
‘Why don’t you just pause it?’ I giggled.
‘Babe we’re live right now,’ he said laughing as my face went red.
‘So all of that?’
‘Yep,’ he said with a smug smile which he turned to the camera. He picked it up and threw his arm around my shoulders pulling me into him, ‘and all of my followers just heard you say how much you miss me.’
‘I didn’t say that,’ I cringed and buried my head in his chest trying to ignore the fact however many of his followers were watching. He pressed a kiss to my forehead and laughed.
‘No I believe your words were ‘I realised I missed you so much’,’ he said.
‘Okay okay,’ I said leaning up, ‘maybe I did.’
‘Good,’ he said, ‘cos I missed you too.’
We smiled at each other for a moment before I said, ‘now we’ve recapped that can we please turn the live off.’
‘I guess so,’ he said looking at the camera, ‘bye guys. I’ll be back again tomorrow.‘
‘With no interruptions this time!’ I said. Joe smiled and waved before he clicked the phone off and ended the video. Then he threw it on the bed and pulled me into him, looking at me with a smile. As he leaned for a kiss he whispered, ‘I’d say this is a pretty good one though.’
#my writing#good interruptions#joe mazzello#joe mazzello x reader#joe mazzello fic#actor fic#requests#requested fic#requested fics
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[◉°] … Y/N & TOJI BEING A COUPLE FOR 10 MINUTES STRAIGHT… 537k views
⌦ 🎬 ⁺ . ❀
꩜ actor! toji x actress! reader
⤷ synopsis : you & toji deny the dating rumours, but you’re both being a little bit too comfortable with each other for your relationship to be just “platonic”.
sfw, fluff, toji is a little ooc <3
. art credits to deltapork on twitter
.. inspired by this post
… part 2, part 3, part 4
masterlists
actor!toji masterlist
꩜ first clip
you & toji are in an interview, one to promote the upcoming release of the action movie you both star in where you’re the main love interest. it is bound to be a huge success, judging by the interest and how everyone loves the chemistry you and toji have both in and out of film!
the interviewer asks you a question and while you’re responding you can feel someone staring at you. you turn to your left where toji is sitting, and he has his eyes dead set on you, not looking away for one second. you turn your focus back to the interviewer to continue answering, but you can’t help but turn back and see that he is still staring at you with his intense blue eyes. you repeat this a few times before cutting off your own sentence with a giggle and covering your face with your hands.
toji chuckles in confusion, looking at the interviewer and then back at you, bewildered. “what-whats so funny?”
you look at toji with your hands still covering your face. “toji, i can’t concentrate when you look at me like that!”
toji tilts his head, swiftly shifting his chair in your direction and leans closer to you, practically nose to nose at this point. “like what?”
“like that!” you laugh, covering your hot face once more as he and the interviewer laugh at your actions.
the interviewer chimes in. “i do have to say, your eyes can be quite intimidating..”
“see?!” you say to toji and then look to the interviewer. “thank you.”
toji huffs and just looks at you. and you look back at him with a small grin on your face.
you speak. “as i was saying…”
you repeat your response to the question and toji exaggeratedly stares at you and you attempt to ignore it (and fail).
꩜ second clip
this was a behind the scenes clip, where your cast member is speaking about his characters relationship with the other main characters but sadly for him, that is not where the viewers’ attention was.
in the background, they see toji sitting on a couch looking at his phone and then you walking into frame. toji looks up from his phone, and if you look very closely, he can be seen smiling at you. you walk over and plop down on the couch right next to him. you both talk to each other for a few moments, faces close together and then you lay your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes and taking what appears to be a nap. toji, moving as slowly as he can, takes a blanket that is already on the couch and drapes of over you. you snuggle closer to him, prompting toji to rest his head on top of yours. he does just that.
꩜ third clip
during an interview with you and the cast members, including toji, in front of a live audience, you somehow found yourselves on the topic of the types of cars you all have. you then remember how toji had told you about a motorcycle he owned, but you forgot which kind.
“i think i wanna ride on toji’s..motorcycle! i think-”
you hear the audience laugh and hear a few wolf whistles and you turn to your fellow actors, who are also laughing, especially gojo. you seem confused, but then you think back to what you said a second ago and feel your face heat up in embarrassment.
“oh, no no nonono-” shaking your head vehemently, “that is not-”
“toji’s motorcycle eh?” gojo teases while raising his eyebrows and wiggling his fingers, which only encourages the mockery and your desire to punch him.
you cover your face with your hand and sigh. “oh my god.”
while everybody in the room makes fun of you, you look to the left to see toji’s reaction and the camera pans to his smug smirking face.
“i mean i’m free friday night so..” he trails off, winks at you and the audience goes crazy and you shove your face in your hands.
“forget i even said anything!”
꩜ fourth clip
you and toji were recording a little vlog like video for the fans, talking about what it was like on set when you get onto the subject of what working with the other cast members is like.
“yeah gojo’s is pain in the ass.” toji states and shakes his head, fondly almost. “never stops running that big mouth ‘a his.”
spits of laughter fall from your mouth at his frankness. “uhh..yeah that’s true, gojo if you see this don’t be offended!”
“yeah we still like you we just..wish you’d shut the fuck up more often.”
“toji!” you gasp and slap his chest, “you’re no spring chicken either you know.”
toji scoffs and looks at you with a raised brow. “yeah, you’re a handful yourself.”
“what? no i’m not!” toji tilts his head and blinks. “everyone says i’m great to work with. you’re such a liar.” you roll your eyes with a laugh.
toji chuckles and moves closer to you on the sofa, and leans towards your face. “no ‘s alright. i have big hands.” he places a kiss on your cheek.
“ew, you’re so corny!” you lean away and wipe away his kiss, trying not to smile and look flustered.
꩜ fifth clip
this was a big day for y/n x toji lovers, when a movie you were both in won an award. now, neither of you were the main characters, but the fans made sure to make you both the most popular ones.
while the director is accepting the award, fans zoomed in on you and toji standing near the back of the group of cast members, where you’re tearing up and trying not to cry. you’re wiping your tears and toji looks at you and does a double take when he realises that you’re crying. he looks down at you and hugs you from the side, which makes you lay your head on his chest and wrap an arm around his waist. toji accepts this invitation and full on hugs you, kissing the top of your head softly and rubbing your back.
꩜ sixth clip
toji posts workout videos on his instagram stories. they’re mostly of him lifting weights and they’re rare, so fans cherish them.
and then theres a short video of you laying on top of toji’s back while he does pushups like it’s nothing. you’re smiling, spreading your arms out like you’re flying. toji suddenly starts going fast as fuck, making you bounce and almost fall off. you gasp and start hitting the back of his head while the person recording starts to laugh (most likely gojo).
you fall off toji’s back and lay on the floor like a starfish. the camera pans to a proud looking toji before you kick his face.
a/n: thank u for reading ^_-
#pls lemme know if you liked i feel like i could’ve done a little better <3#actress!reader#actor!toji#toji x reader#toji x you#toji x y/n#toji x self insert#toji fluff#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro x you#toji fushiguro x y/n#toji fushiguro x self insert#toji fushiguro fluff#toji fic#toji fanfic#fushiguro toji x reader#fushiguro toji x you#fushiguro toji fluff#fushiguro toji x y/n
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Actor Bucky and actress reader
He cums accidentally while trying to hold it together during a sex scene.
Imagine a gorgeous but shy beefy Bucky nervous as hell filming an intimate scene with his co star because hes harbouring the most massive crush on her.
He in nothing but a tiny cup covering his most private parts, his perky sculpted ass barely covered by the thin sheet laid on top you both.
“You okay?” He whispers, always checking in on you, his large mass covering you entirely. You give him a shy smile, nodding, the feel of your hands moving to drape around his shoulder making him blush.
“Alright! Get ready to sell it Barnes” Tony calls out, hushing everyone before he starts rolling, signalling a thumbs up to sam to start filming “and action!!”
Bucky braces himself on his forearms keeping his body off yours, moving forward instead of actually thrusting. The lewd sounds you start to make make his hips involuntarily buck forward more than necessary and he nearly stutters.
“Oh God! Please, slow down” you cry softly, portraying your role as a shy house wife perfectly, nervous to consummate her marriage.
Bucky doesn’t think he can take your delicate pleading, his cock straining, desperate for some relief. He can feel it leaking the more you moan, his knuckles turning white gripping onto the sheets.
“So good to me” Bucky whispers back, swallowing thickly as his mind starts to wander over how you’d sound it he was actually stretching you out. Would you moan about how he was too big? Would you beg for him to keep going till he dripped right out of your sweet cunt? Would you want to lick and taste how wet he got for you, moaning over how fat and thick his dick was, worried over how you’d fit all of him inside you? His massive size carried all over, the blush on his face spreading to his neck when his erection nearly brushes against your covered core.
You blink up at him, staring into his baby blue eyes feeling his hardness press against you as it grows, nearly wetting the sheets. Your eyes are locked together and Bucky’s sure he’s not going to control himself, not when you’re looking at him like that. Not when you’re biting your lip, he could’ve sworn he felt your hips buck up, your thighs spreading slightly.
You let out a whimper, his warm breath fanning over your face and he can smell how fucking wet you are. He’s humping the air, just centimetres from where he really wants to be, fuck he wasn’t going to hold it, his balls felt tight, his cock was going to fucking burst-
“Kiss me My love” you say your final line before pulling him down for a heated kiss, letting it get more hot and heavy that the script intended. As soon as he tastes your tongue on his, he moans into your mouth, eyes rolling back, his back muscles flexed and tensed as he soaks the with his cum. He doesn’t pull away, tearing the sheets with his grip as he cums hard, his cock throbbing, till he can feel the front all warm and damp, whimpering till he’s all empty.
“AND CUT! FANTASTIC” Tony cheers, over the moon with how it turned out, “that was great and nice touch ripping the sheets Barnes, made it look real. Everyone take 5 and we’ll shoot that diner scene”
Everyone starts to pack up to get ready for the next shoot and Bucky swears he hears you let out a little giggle as you pull away, smiling at his flustered state.
“You okay, Buck?” You coo while he bites back a whine, his softening cock now sensitive and aching. Your assistant runs over to slip you into a robe, dragging you off to hair and makeup while he holds the sheet to the lower half of his body.
He grabs the robe Steve hands to him, smirking at his best friend with his head cocked to the side.
“You sure that was acting, Buck?” Steve snorts, nodding to the wet patch on the sheet while Bucky groans, grabbing it and stuffing it away before running off to his room.
“Shut up”
#actor bucky#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes smut#bucky fan fics#Bucky actor au#james bucky buchanan barnes#marvel au#marvel smht#Bucky barnes x actress reader#bucky barnes x f reader#bucky barnes x smht#Bucky barnes x fluff#beefy Bucky#shy beefy Bucky#beefy bucky smut#beefy bucky barnes#beefy bucky barnes fluff#beefy bucky fluff#beefy bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes fanfiction#beefy bucky x reader#shy bucky barnes
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"What the fuck did you do?"
Eddie wasn't expecting hostility when he answered Jeff's phone call, his best friend's usual calm demeanor replaced with open annoyance. And yeah, okay, the annoyance itself wasn’t new, but Eddie doesn’t think he’s actually done anything recently to earn it.
"Well-"
"Actually, no. I'll tell you what you did. You retweeted photos of Steve Harrington - internationally beloved heartthrob actor Steve Harrington - along with the caption 'not to sound like a subby slut but GOD I would be his puppy baby boy in a heartbeat'. So I guess the better question is, what the fuck were you thinking, Eddie?"
Eddie's jaw clicks shut because- yeah, he had done that. Had seen those photos of Steve smoking circling the internet and spent god knows how long just staring at them, had curbed the desire to shove his hand down his pants by posting a single thirst tweet about it.
“I was thinking, Jeff, that I'm allowed to post whatever I want to my private fucking twitter, man. I mean it's a free country, isn't a guy allowed to make a horny tweet about a sexy man every now and then?”
“You are, when you actually post it to your private account and not our award winning band's main account.”
No. Oh no. There's no way Eddie actually-
He rips his phone away from his face to open twitter, and realizes two things simultaneously. One, Jeff is right, he had posted it to the band's account. Not on his private, locked, personal account, but on the account that's actually open and free for literally anyone on earth to look at.
The second thing he realizes is that their notifications are currently flooded with responses to Eddie's tweet, somehow racking up into the thousands in the few hours it's been since.
Jesus Christ.
“Eddie?”
The metalhead jerks back into the moment and put Jeff on speaker so he can scroll through the horde of replies, says “Fuck, I fucked up. Are we gonna have to do damage control on this?”
In the mess is a reply from Gareth's own personal account: @ corrodededdie stop tweeting from the band account challenge 🙄🙄🙄
”Maybe. There hasn't been any type of response from Harrington or his people, but they might ask us to take it down if it blows up too much.“
Eddie hums, thinking they might be too little, too late about it blowing up too much, and flips over to his main account so he can reply to Gareth's little jab appropriately. He isn't surprised to see that he has a couple of new messages, probably from other people wondering just what the fuck Eddie was thinking, but when he goes to check them-
He's never been happier that he turned on messages from followers only, because then he would have missed this, missed Steve Harrington's little profile picture beaming up at him from the screen of his phone, along with a new message request.
”Jeff, I gotta go,” he says, not even realizing he's cut the other man off.
“Eddie, what-
”Harrington messaged me. I'll call you back.“
Eddie doesn't wait for a response as he hangs up on Jeff, and his hands definitely aren't shaking as he opens the message from Steve. And listen- Eddie is a fan of the guy, that much should be obvious.
Steve had grown in popularity around the same time Corroded Coffin had; he’d gotten some part in a drama film that had skyrocketed him into stardom, and Eddie fell in love the moment he saw that gorgeous face on the silver screen for the first time. He's never had a chance to interact with the guy, has been in the same place a few times but always missed him, like ships passing in the night, but Eddie's been fine with pining from afar, just like every other person on the planet that's even remotely attracted to men.
Besides, even with how popular Corroded Coffin has gotten over the years - a couple of Grammy’s here, a dozen chart topping metal songs there - Eddie doesn’t expect Steve to just. Know who Eddie is.
With all of this in mind, Eddie is expecting some kind of semi-casual request to take the tweet down, that it's not a good look for his image-
Anything other than what Steve actually sent.
'If you're puppy baby boy, does that make me Master? Or Daddy?'
And Eddie-
Eddie slides down, sinks into his couch cushion as all of the blood in his body suddenly shifts, rushing to fill his dick like it's a fucking race. The phone almost slips out of his hand and he fumbles it briefly before taking a deep breath.
Is Steve serious? He wouldn't send that if he wasn't serious, right?
This could be it, could be Eddie's one chance to impress Steve, to get his foot in the door of Steve's interest. He bites his lip and types out a reply, something quick that he sends before he can change his mind.
‘I’m open to either, actually. Do you have a preference, sir?’
He doesn’t expect the typing indicator to come up immediately, and just knowing that Steve is somewhere right now, typing out a response to Eddie, is enough to have him nearly vibrating in his seat.
‘I’m partial to Daddy, myself.’
Fuck fuck fuck.
Eddie takes a breath, tries to think of a response that isn’t just ‘Please, Daddy, can I sit on your massive dick that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about since that one indie film you did that just had all of your junk out in the open?’
Steve saves him by sending another message.
‘But maybe we could start with Steve, and possibly dinner? Though I’d be happy to see where things go after that.’
He- What-
Eddie must have stopped breathing, because the next time he takes a breath his lungs burn, his mid races because there’s no way Eddie’s long term celebrity crush just asked him on a date. He sits there long enough that the screen goes dark and he scrambles to turn it back on, sees the message still there, real and unchanged.
There’s no way he can say no to this, to Steve, and his hands shake as he types out a response.
‘Dinner would be great. Just name the time and place, Daddy.’
#like everyone else those new pics of joe keery left me kind of#feral. horny. slutty.#so i channeled my feeling a bit#i miiiight do more of this but no promises#steddie#steddie fic#steve harrington#eddie munson#steve x eddie#rockstar eddie munson#actor steve harrington#joey writes#ficlet#fun fact: eddie's tweet was my actual real life message to my friends about those pics
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Steve’s tired. He’s wearing a tux and his head is starting to hurt and this interviewer is nice but he’s just one in what it feels like an infinite line of them.
That’s what he gets for being nominated for the Emmy’s this year, it was what Robin said to him.
She’s right, of course.
He blinks and focus back on the interviewer. He’s asking him to explain that one scene on the show when he performed a long action sequence and Steve does it.
It wasn’t that hard, with his athletic background. He actually had fun.
The interviewer laughs. Steve isn’t funny but he’s glad he’s entertaining someone. Knows some actors can be real assholes out here on the red carpet.
He sees Robin on his peripheral waving at him to let him know it’s time to wrap this up and move on.
There’s still a few interviews to get through before the actual ceremony. And then a bunch more if he somehow wins.
Then he feels a presence on his back and Eddie Munson’s face pops in, smiling at him. One of his hands wrap around Steve’s waist.
“Isn’t he delightful?” Eddie says with that tone that makes Steve’s inside all mushy. The interviewer nods, fascinated by this interaction.
“You’re delightful,” Steve says, trying to look at him but it’s real hard when Eddie’s head is propped on his shoulder.
“Gonna save you a seat inside, sweetheart.”
Eddie winks at him and Steve cackle, throwing his head back a little.
He feels Eddie’s hand squeezing at his waist and it makes him lightheaded.
“Any plans on working together again? You two were brilliant!”
Steve has to give it to him. He’s fast with the questions. A good interviewer.
“I’m game if you are,” Eddie says.
Steve knows that. They talked about it. The show blew up because of their insane chemistry on screen.
Their agents, Robin and Chrissy, are already looking into other projects
“I’d follow you to hell,” Steve says. It’s a joke and Eddie laughs, pretending to be flattered.
“See you inside?” Eddie asks and Steve nods, suddenly feeling a burst of energy. Eddie has that ability. It was helpful during long days of shooting. “A kiss for good luck?”
Steve laughs but nods, thinking Eddie is going to kiss his cheek. But no, he goes straight for his mouth.
It’s just a peck, but Steve feels his cheeks burning and before he can react Eddie is moving, lost in the sea of people on the red carpet.
Steve turns his face to the interviewer and from the red dot on the camera he knows this is live. He sighs, has to stand his ground despite wanting to run away.
“Well. That was sweet. So are you two dating?”
Steve sighs, shakes his head.
“No. He’s just a brat.”
#Ali's Stuff#steddie#steddie ficlet#steddie drabble#drabble#fic#steve harrington#actor AU#eddie munson
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Broke: Dick hates being Batman because he’s his own vigilante and doesn’t want the responsibility of the cowl
Woke: Dick hates being Batman because he has to bulk for a few weeks beforehand in order to look convincing in the suit
I feel like Dick gets the heads up text from Bruce, groans, and turns around to hit Costco for chicken breast and greek yogurt.
Because he’s muscular as Nightwing, absolutely, but he’s not carrying as much muscle on a given day like Jason and Bruce are. He needs to be more agile than them, and as a result he’s a little leaner.
Taking on the cowl, even temporarily, means bulking up as quickly as possible. Because even if he pads the suit, the goons don’t know that. They’re still gonna hit Batman like he’s carrying the same amount of mass.
#thoughts#as I hit the gym thinking about a bulk#bruce wayne#batman#dc#batfamily#dick grayson#nightwing#me on my ‘Jason is a more convincing Batman in the suit but he would never wear it’ hc again#dick is phenomenal and a fantastic actor#but maybe he’s just a little short and lean#fic ideas#hmmmmm
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The Hills | Joel Miller
pairing: actor!joel x f!reader
rating: 18+, minors do not interact.
warnings: no outbreak!joel, joel miller au, use of marijuana (reader gets high and joel takes a hit), alcohol consumption, enemies to not-so-much-enemies, joel is on his freak shit in this one, smut (fingering, ass play, cum eating, rimming, unprotected piv, spitting, m & f oral receiving, consensual choking and breath play), reader is lowkey a brat but joel is also an ass, joel’s twitchy palm™, two (2) ass slaps, reader is described to be wearing a dress and heels, mentions of usage of cocaine (non-descriptive and it’s neither reader or joel using—just had to add the warning), no use of y/n. if there’s anything that i missed, please lmk.
word count: 6.1k
synopsis: drugs. sex. fame. joel miller—the very man you despise. something about hollywood or other. it all seems to become a blurred line when you get invited to an oscars after party at a house in the hills.
a/n: shoutout to @joelsgreys for keeping eyes on this for me, for beta’ing, for letting me rant about this continuously in our texts, etc etc. ily
Hollywood: the definition of glitz and glamor, celebrities galore, and wild parties.
Right?
Sort of.
You’d been to these afterparties before—chaos, laughter, and drunk or high celebrities every which way. The afterparties that showed the real side of Hollywood’s favorite people. The afterparties where secretive sex ensues in a hidden room tucked in the back of the mansion. The afterparties where people let loose, had fun, and celebrated their wins, or the wins of their friends.
That’s exactly why you were here. This particular multi-million dollar home was chalk-full of familiar famous faces that would get absolutely trashed without the public knowing a single thing about their rendezvous, celebrating each other’s wins.
It was like an unspoken rule amongst all the attendees: what happens at the after party, stays at the after party.
Tess Servopoulos, a well-known actress, was your best friend. She always invited you to the award shows when she could, and made sure you were invited to the afterparties. In this case, it was the after party for The Oscars, where her other best friend was celebrating his wins tonight, taking home three Oscars just hours prior.
And it’s funny, because to you, the devil wasn’t down in Georgia. He was in fucking Los Angeles, California, and his name is Joel Miller.
Arrogant, conceited, and a complete asshole as far as you were concerned. You’d never had a good interaction with the man, always seeming to have targeted hatred toward you for no particular reason.
So you hated him right back.
Because, honestly, who the fuck did he think he was?
You didn’t give two shits if he was an A-lister. Good for him. His arrogance and asshole-ish nature was enough to make you roll your eyes at the mere sight of him. He was one of those people that everybody seemed to absolutely adore, thinking he was doing everyone a solid favor just by being in their presence.
And you think, the fuck does it matter anyway? Your opinion of one man in a room full of elites is about as relevant as a speck of fucking dirt on the bottom of some Louboutins.
You inwardly sighed and drank from the champagne flute that was placed in your hand once you maneuvered your way into the house. Tess dragged you along to say hello to people you’ve met before, and introduced you to those you hadn’t. Most of them were fairly nice, some remembering you from previous parties or recognizing you in god-awful candid shots that paparazzi took of you when you were with Tess.
Tabloids were always a funny thing. There were multiple times where you’d see a photo of yourself in public with Tess, plastered in some stupid celebrity magazine claiming you were her ‘mystery lover.’ Or, there were the times where they’d call you a gold digger; someone who wanted fifteen minutes of fame and all the “luxuries” that came with being acquainted with a celebrity.
You always had a good laugh with Tess about them, and she’d tell you that one day she’d share the story behind you: a college roommate who was her total opposite, but it worked. You were there from the beginning—she’d get casted in parts for commercials, then extras for TV shows, and then bigger roles like a supporting character, and eventually the lead character in many blockbuster hits.
You were her biggest supporter, there for her through her wins and losses. She was truly your platonic soulmate, and you, hers.
You always plastered a smile on your face when making your rounds at these things. Got a little star-struck here and there, but you kept your cool. Celebrities are human beings, after all.
The party was in full swing, people plastered and laughing loudly over the thumping music. Sometimes you thought these parties got a little ridiculous, but you knew this was a rare occasion where these people—faces of the public, under a watchful eye of millions of adoring fans and the scrutinizing media—got the chance to loosen up and be their real selves.
You swirled the champagne around your flute, babysitting the same glass from when you first walked into this party. You leaned against a crisp white wall adorned with what you were sure were very expensive paintings, observing the crowd before you.
The familiarity that drifted through the room was almost unsettling for you. Friends with arms slung over each other’s shoulders, casual and comfortable conversation—and then there was you, who didn’t really know anyone but Tess. She didn’t want to leave your side, but she’d gotten pulled every which way for a conversation and you didn’t want to ride her coattail all night, so you told her you’d get yourself another drink, maybe.
And you were going to, but then the room felt a little too warm. So, naturally, you ventured down another long hallway adorned with paintings and expensive side tables with vases that held fresh flowers that probably cost more than you’d ever see in your lifetime.
Your heels clicked rhythmically against the marble flooring as you made your way to two French double doors that led out to a balcony that was unoccupied.
Perfect.
You opened the doors and sucked in a huge breath of air, admiring the lights gleaming throughout the whole of Los Angeles as far as you could see.
And then you wondered, with every house and apartment and business that was illuminated with a soft yellow light, what each individual occupying these spaces stories were.
People that weren’t famous. People that had regular nine-to-five jobs. People who were desperately trying to make ends meet. People like you, you think.
You loved Tess to death. You’d do anything and everything for her, but Hollywood was secretly a massive headache.
You sighed as you tore your eyes away from the soft lights, opening your clutch to find the joint you brought. Just something to take the edge off and ease the fucking nerves that started coursing through you, unwanted and untimely.
You fished the pre-roll and lighter out of your bag, flicking the lighter on in multiple attempts, but no avail.
You groaned as you kept trying, but the realization that your lighter was done for had swept over you quickly.
“Son of a bitch.” You mutter with a heavy sigh.
“Need a light?” A deep voice asked from behind. A familiar voice. A voice with Southern twang that supposedly charmed every person that was blessed to hear it. A voice you couldn’t fucking stand.
You look over your shoulder to see Joel Miller in the flesh, clad in a crisp white button-down with the top two buttons unbuttoned, exposing his tan chest. The shirt was tucked into some black slacks, accompanied by shiny black shoes.
You hated to admit that he looked good. Real good. But you wouldn’t ever dare to admit that out loud, even with a gun to your head.
“No.” You said, turning back around. His footsteps become closer, and you roll your eyes before you have to restrain yourself from physically shuddering at the proximity between you two.
“Stop bein’ a brat and jus’ take the goddamn light.” Joel rolls his eyes, and you turn to face him. He’s next to you now, leaning against the balcony while holding up a lighter.
You eye him conspicuously, and he looks annoyed as he flicks the lighter on and off. You grit your teeth before slotting the joint between your fingers, bringing it up to your lips.
He easily flicks his lighter on once more, bringing the flame to the end of the joint. The small flame illuminates the space between your bodies, and he looks good with the soft orange glow against his tan skin, you think.
The end of the joint crackles and you inhale deeply, turning your body toward the lights of the city once more.
You blow out the smoke slowly, tilting your head to the side. “Thanks,” You mutter.
“Hm,” He hums, “Would ya look at that. Not that hard to use your manners now, ain’t it?”
“Shut up, Joel. Christ.” You rub your forehead with your thumb, eyebrows pinching together. You came out here for some peace, not to be annoyed and antagonized by the very man you couldn’t stand.
“Hey, I jus’ did ya a favor. No need for that fuckin’ attitude of yours.”
“Jesus fuck, Joel, do you not have anything better to do? Shouldn’t you be fucking one of your whores by now or snorting coke in the bathroom with another beloved A-lister?” You roll your eyes and take another hit.
Joel didn’t like that one bit. He took a step forward, broad body hard to ignore with the heat radiating off of him. Your eyes trail up his chest and to his face, which was contorted with pure anger.
“Who the fuck do you think you are talkin’ to me like that? You’re pissin’ off the wrong person, doll.” Joel’s voice is gruff, full of patience that was smaller than a piece of thread at this point.
“I don’t need to bow down to you just because you’re famous, asshole. You’re the one who’s had the problem with me from the beginning. I only reciprocate the energy I receive, so you can fuck all the way off with the superiority complex you think you have over me.”
“Why the fuck are you here anyway? Hollywood ain’t a place for naïve girls like you.” Joel quirks his harsh brow at you, like he’s challenging you.
Motherfucker.
“And who said I was naïve, cowboy? You don’t know a damn thing about me.”
“I know that you’re annoyin’ and don’t fuckin’ belong here. God knows what Tess sees in you as a friend n’ why she keeps invitin’ you to these things.”
Your blood ran hot as you stared at the man in front of you. His jaw was set in a hard line, clenching his teeth every so often in pure annoyance as he looked at you with utter hatred and disgust.
“I may not belong in Hollywood, Miller, but at least my fucking morals are right and I don’t pull bitch moves like abandoning my friends when they need me the most.”
You were infuriated and quite frankly so fucking sick of this man berating you when he should be the last person on this green fucking Earth to talk. It was a low blow, your last comment to him, but what kind of a friend was he to choose a woman he was so pussywhipped over instead of being there for Tess when she was going through a rough time?
It broke your heart to see her so upset that Joel chose another woman he barely knew over her, icing her out when she’d been nothing but a good friend to him. She forgave him, of course, after he’d apologized to her months later.
She had a kinder heart than you would’ve at the situation. You don’t think you could ever forgive somebody for that.
You already thought Joel was an arrogant asshole before that even happened, but that situation was the last nail in the coffin to confirm that he’s exactly the person you thought he was.
“I apologized to her. We’re good now.” Joel’s harsh stare never wavered, but the annoyance in his tone did. He almost sounded…sad.
“Yeah. Whatever.” You roll your eyes, flicking the ash off of the end of the joint before taking another hit. Your mind was already starting to become hazy, and the proximity between you and Joel was starting to make your head spin.
Your gaze flickered up to his face once more, brown eyes still locked on you. You furrow your brows, but before you can speak, Joel plucks the joint from your fingers. He puts the filter up to his lips and deeply inhales, and you frown.
“Get your own recreational drugs, asshole.” You mutter, arms crossing over your chest. Joel’s eyes trail down to your chest before moving back up to yours. A small smirk evades his lips, and he blows the smoke into your face.
“You’re such a fuckin’ brat.”
“Fuck you gonna do? Spank me for not thinking you’re all high and mighty and shit?” The frown is permanent on your face as you assess him, not realizing the impact that your words had on him.
His cock stirred in his slacks at the thought of that.
He stubs out the half-finished joint before handing it back to you. You tuck it away in your purse before looking at him again, carefully studying him.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He’s got a knowing look on his face, and you have to force yourself to feign disgust.
Because, goddammit, you probably would. You’d probably be all over him if he wasn’t such a fucking asshole. The rage you’ve targeted toward him has made you see past his rugged looks and charm, the broadness of him and the veins that protrude from his hands to his forearms and—
You’ve wondered briefly what it’d be like to succumb to it. To be like every single other person who melts for him like lava seeping into the deepest cracks of the Earth. Untouchable. Destructive. And yet, a beautiful aftermath.
“Think I’ll take that as a yes.” His laugh rumbles from deep within his sturdy chest. For a moment he looks so carefree, so light and happy while he laughs. It might’ve been at your own expense, but for the slightest second, you saw through the harsh stares and the hateful demeanor.
“Fuck you, Miller.”
His mouth snapped shut and his harsh gaze settled on you again. His nostrils flared as he glared at you, a heat behind his eyes you’ve never seen before. His palm twitches at his side and he opens his mouth to say something argumentative, but closes it after a second.
Before you know it, he wraps his hand around your forearm, dragging you behind him.
You nearly trip over your heels as you try to keep up with him, wriggling in his strong grasp. He wouldn’t let up.
“Let go of me you asshole!” You seethe, but he pushes you into a room—tucked at the back of the mansion—secluded from everyone else. Oh.
Oh.
Oh, fuck.
You quickly realized you were in for it when he shut the door and locked it. Nerves buzzed in your veins and you inhaled a shaky breath.
He looked like he was some sort of predator stalking its prey with the way his eyes scanned your body as he moved around to the other side of the room.
“Real fuckin’ sick of your attitude.” He starts. You scoff at him and throw your arms up.
“Wouldn’t have to deal with it if you just left me the fuck alone in the first place.” You cross your arms over your chest once more, and Joel takes two large strides toward you before he’s standing so close that you can smell the whiskey and weed on his breath.
“N’ that’s the problem, darlin’, I can’t leave you alone. Been wanting to fuck that attitude right outta you since the first day we met.”
You swear your heart drops into your ass. “Wh-what?” Your eyes are wide as he walks forward, forcing you to move backwards until the backs of your knees hit the king-sized bed.
You didn’t even notice there was a bed in the room because the very man before you was insanely distracting.
“You heard me. You’re a brat, baby, n’ brats deserve to be punished.”
You swallow hard as a fire burns behind his eyes, mischievous and daring.
“Joel—”
“Turn around.”
You don’t even think twice before listening to his demand, turning around so you face the bed.
“Can’t hate me that much if you’re an obedient little thing for me, hm?” The amusement was oozing from his Southern drawl.
Your first instinct was to argue with him, but deep down you knew he was right. Maybe all the hatred you had for him had a little bit of desire sprinkled deep down in the depths of your core, unexplored and completely disregarded.
The thought of his hands on you excited you. You saw the way he touched women in the movies he was in. Regardless if it was just acting or not, you always ended up aroused after Tess would force you to watch any movie of his—especially the ones with erotica. She would tease you about not liking him, unknowing of the true abhorrence that stirred in your body. He was her best friend too, so you had to be cordial to him around her for her sake.
You tried to ignore him altogether, but where it got you now—pressed up against the bed as his large hands landed onto your body to tightly grip your hips—didn’t seem to pan out so well.
“Will you let me touch you?” His voice has a rough edge to it, the teasing long gone as he stares at your figure from behind.
“Yes.” You whisper.
He doesn’t say another word as his calloused hands slide around your thighs and to the front of your body. He presses himself against you, and the warmth he radiates off of his body alone makes you sigh.
He’s so sturdy and strong, just as you imagined him to be. You could feel his cock hardening against the plump of your ass, and you wiggle in the slightest to tease him.
He inhales sharply, one hand sliding underneath the hem of your dress while the other hand splayed out onto your stomach.
The skimpy panties you had on did a terrible job at keeping your arousal strictly within the confines of the lace fabric. The apex of your thighs was smeared with the neediness you refused to address, now completely on display for the man it was all for.
Joel’s hand skimmed your inner thighs, chuckling darkly as he traced the outline of your pussy with his thumb through the fabric.
You tried your hardest to hold back a moan, really. You fucking tried. As soon as the sound bubbled in your throat and glided past your lips, you could feel Joel’s smile in victory. He was always playing chess while you were playing checkers.
Well, check fucking mate for him.
“Didn’t know I got ya this excited, baby.” He grips the hem of your panties, sliding them down your legs. You step out of them and he immediately pockets them.
“You wouldn’t be the first.” You mumble, not wanting to feed into his already huge ego.
“Oh I’m sure I’m not,” He starts, breath hot on your neck. “Doesn’t mean I won’t ruin every other fuckin’ man for you. Bend over.”
You clench around nothing at his words, deciding that staying silent is better than digging yourself deeper into your own fucking grave.
You do as he says and bend over the bed, cheek resting against the soft silk sheets.
“‘M gonna fuckin’ make sure I’m all you think about after this. Fuck yourself with your fingers to flashbacks of tonight. Moanin’ my fuckin’ name all alone in your house, wishing I was there to take care of you instead. Fuckin’ brat.”
His words sound like a simultaneous threat and promise, but you just had to say something. You couldn’t let him completely have this without giving him some kind of shit.
“Oh please, I bet I’ll forget as soon as we walk out of this room. You’ve probably got a small dick anyway.”
And you know that isn’t true. He’s huge, and you know he’ll never let you forget about tonight.
A sharp sting blooms onto one of your asscheeks, the sound of him smacking your flesh reverberating off of the walls of the bedroom. You moan at the delicious pain.
“You n’ I both know that ain’t true, doll. Enough with that fuckin’ mouth of yours. Could put it to better use than talkin’ all that shit.”
His hands knead the flesh of your ass, spreading your cheeks apart to get a good look at all of you. You almost feel embarrassed, but decide not to get into your head too much about it because all you want him to do is fucking touch you where you need him the most.
Your core was aching. You were almost ready to put your pride aside and fucking beg him to touch you. Almost.
You were about to give in when you heard him shuffle behind you, and you craned your neck to see Joel drop onto his knees behind you.
His eyes locked with yours as he gave you a smirk before leaning forward to bite your ass. You let out a small yelp, and his hand was quick to soothe the pain.
“Gonna fuckin’ set you right once n’ for all.”
And he brings a hand up to your core, sliding his middle and ring finger through your dripping folds. You whimper softly at the sensation, a small flood of relief coursing through your veins. But it wasn’t enough. You needed more.
Your hips start to rock involuntarily, and Joel tsks at you.
“Greedy fuckin’ whore, aren’t ya? Patience is a virtue, baby.” He chides.
“Goddamnit Joel.” Your voice sounds breathy, even to your own surprise.
Suddenly, Joel slips his two fingers into you, and your hands fly out to grip the sheets beneath you. Your eyebrows furrow together and relish in the feeling of his thick fingers scissoring in and out of your aching cunt.
“So fuckin’ wet already. ‘F I woulda known I did this to ya…” He chuckles, working his fingers in and out of you expertly.
He leans forward and licks up your folds, swirling his tongue around your clit. You can’t help the strangled moan that leaves your mouth, and you can just feel Joel’s cocky ass smirk.
He continues lapping up your arousal, more dripping out around his fingers and down to his wrist. It'd been awhile since anyone touched you like this, so you presume you were extra turned on because of that reason.
You didn’t want to give all the credit to Joel.
His tongue slid up and he removed his fingers from you, replacing them with his tongue as he prodded it into your entrance and fucked you with it.
You were already a moaning mess, like you were on cloud nine with the way he was making you feel. He gripped both of your cheeks and spread them further for his own leisure, tongue dragging upward until it met your asshole.
“Holy fuck, Joel—” You choke out, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he swirls his tongue around the tight ring. Your heart is thrumming in your chest and your pussy clenches around nothing.
Joel lowly moaned around you, the vibrations shooting straight up your spine.
You don’t know how long he’s doing this for—your mind is still hazy from the high you’ve been riding, pleasure wrapped around every single inch of your body. You lose track of time and immerse yourself in how he’s making you feel.
Joel pulls himself away from you, sliding both of his fingers back into you. This time, though, he teases your other hole with the tip of his pinky.
“You ever let anyone fuck this pretty ass of yours with their fingers?”
“Please.” Was all you could squeak out, because while you didn’t want to admit you never have, you were willing to give it a go. It was obvious he knew what he was doing, and if you didn’t like the way something felt, you’d just tell him.
He spits onto your asshole before grunting, “Relax.”
And you do. He slides his pinky into your puckered hole, and fuck you feel so full with him like this. He works his three fingers in and out of you slowly at first, each move calculated and precise.
He may’ve been an asshole, but he at least wanted to make sure you were comfortable.
He picks up the pace of his fingers after he’s sure you can handle it, and the feeling of pleasure seizes your body as you shake underneath him.
It’s too much and not enough all at once. You can feel your orgasm rapidly building building building, the coil wound so tight that your stomach constricts in plea of release.
“Fuckfuckfuck, Joel I’m gonna—oh fuck!”
And you’re literally gushing around his fingers. He prolongs your orgasm as long as he can. You think he’s saying things like there you go, that’s it, but you can hardly pay attention over the loud ringing in your ears as you try and come down from your Earth-shattering orgasm.
He slips his fingers out of you slowly, watching your body convulse sporadically from the aftermath of it all.
He grabs your body and flips you around so you’re laying at the edge of the bed. The fluorescent lights are blinding as you try and look at his face. You blink rapidly, chest heaving up and down as you try your damndest to find your bearings once more.
He’s unfastening the button on his slacks, and all you can hear is the rustle of the fabric and the thumping music outside of the locked door.
You wondered briefly if anyone—Tess, specifically—was looking for the two of you. You’d be mortified if she found you like this, but Joel was smart enough to lock the doors.
You were so lost in thought that you hadn’t even noticed he was pulling down his underwear, so when you looked back at him you gasped when you saw his stiff, aching length. Your hunch was correct—he was huge. His tip was red, smeared with precome and just begging to be taken care of.
If there was any time in your life to impress Joel Miller, now was your chance. You sit up on your knees and lower your head, looking up at him through your lashes, your mouth inches away from his tip.
The muscle in his jaw ticked furiously, brown eyes watching you meticulously. You gave him a small, cocky smirk before you leaned forward and wrapped your lips around his tip, eyes fluttering shut at the salty taste. You use one hand to steady yourself onto the bed, and the other to wrap around his length as you start to pump him slowly.
He inhales sharply, holding back a groan as you undoubtedly start to please him.
You set a steady rhythm between your hand and mouth. The wet sounds are obscene and nearly pornographic. A part of you wishes this was being recorded so you’d have something to watch back when you needed to get yourself off.
Greed is a tragedy, and tragic you were in this moment.
Joel’s hand flies to the back of your head, cradling it as you remove your hand and slide your lips as far down his shaft as your mouth would allow. The head of his cock hit the back of your throat, and as much as you were salivating, you swallowed around him.
The tip of your nose barely made contact with the wiry hairs at the base of his cock, and Joel let out the most guttural groan you’d ever heard.
“Filthy fuckin’ mouth, baby. Goddamn. Knew it could be put to better use than you—ngh—spewin’ that fuckin’ attitude.”
You hum around him, bobbing your head up and down his length. His pants were getting more rapid and he was becoming more vocal, grunting fuck and filthy, filthy girl.
“Shit, yeah, just like that doll. Just. Like. That.” Joel’s voice is hoarse behind his clenched teeth. If you didn’t know any better, he’d probably shatter his teeth with how hard he was clenching them.
And you don’t let up. Not even after a string of curses spills past his lips, and definitely not after he groans so loudly that it vibrates through his whole body as ropes of his come spill down your throat.
You’re in overstimulation territory, and he’s falling apart at the seams.
He pulls your head off of his length as he tries to catch his breath, sweat beading at his temples.
“Fuckin’ christ.” He breathes, squeezing his eyes shut before looking at you again.
“Didn’t know I would be so good at that now, did you?” You tease, and the corner of his mouth twitches into a snarl.
“Shut the fuck up.” He says, and you laugh. He grabs your hips suddenly, flipping you around once more so you’re on all fours for him again.
“‘M’keepin’ my promise. Gonna fuck that attitude straight outta your goddamn brain.” His tone is serious, and you’re beginning to think he really isn’t fucking around.
You hear him pump himself a few times and you think about the dangerous threshold you’re about to cross with him. Would you regret it after? Would he?
It was like you were both taking a bite of forbidden fruit, specially picked from the Garden of Eden.
Fuck it. There’s worse things you can do.
“You on any birth control?” He asks, and you nod.
“IUD.”
“Good.” He says before sliding the head of his cock through your folds. Your body jerks when it catches your clit, still sensitive from your previous orgasm.
Without another word, Joel pushes into you and you stretch around him deliciously. It’s like your body was begging for him to be inside you at this point.
“Fuuuck.” Joel groans, gripping your hips so tightly they’d probably be bruised by tomorrow.
You bite your lip to keep from screaming, because he’s the biggest you’ve ever had and the sting won’t go away.
“Move, Joel.” You plead, and he smacks your ass once again, making you flutter around his cock.
“Fuck did I say about patience? Christ, woman.”
You shut your eyes as you feel him become fully erect inside you, and you’re seriously going to cry if he doesn’t move soon.
Almost as if he’d read your mind, he started to thrust his hips slowly. It didn’t take long for him to set a pace, though, and he was brutally pistoning in and out of you.
“Fucking…. hate… you.” You spit pathetically, holding onto the sheets for dear life. He laughs dryly behind you, mumbling a sure before going even harder.
Your moans were getting louder and louder, and you truthfully couldn’t give two fucks who heard you at this point.
Fucking let them hear.
“Better hush up now, whole house could probably hear you with how loud you’re bein’.” He scolded, and you rolled your eyes.
“Don’t give a fuck,” You squeaked out, “Let them.”
“Attagirl,” His laugh was mischievous, pounding into you even faster than before. “Little fuckin’ whore loves takin’ this cock, hm?”
One of his hands moved up your body, causing chills down your spine and goosebumps to raise onto your skin.
His hand wrapped around your throat, and you moaned at the idea of getting choked out while he fucked you from behind.
One of your hands flew up to his, and he was half expecting you to yank it away. He was pleasantly surprised when you clamped your fingers down around his, silently urging him to squeeze.
And he did. You felt like you were fucking floating.
Joel didn’t let up, even when you felt the burning hot coil wind up in your core once again.
“Feel so fucking good– s–o so fucking— fuck.” You’re a blubbering mess. He pulls your body up so your back is facing his front, never letting his pace waver.
“Fucking you dumb on my cock, aren’t I? Listen to you, baby. Pathetic.” He laughs at you once again, but you don’t have any willpower to fight back. You just let it happen, because each thrust of his cock into you has your body turning into complete fucking mush.
“Close.” Is what you whisper, and Joel can feel your walls tightening around him. He chokes on a moan at the sensation, fingers tightening around your throat even more.
You can barely breathe, but you fucking love it. You love seeing stars cloud your vision like this. The heightened sensation of your orgasm comes crashing down over you, eyes rolling into the back of your head as you silently scream out.
Your body convulses continuously as you try to ride out your orgasm, but Joel’s hand leaves your throat and moves down to your clit to rub at it furiously.
You cry out his name, your hands frantic to find purchase to anything as you try and brace yourself.
It’s no use, though. Your body is limp and your soul fucking escaped from you long ago.
“Where do you want me?” The urgency in his voice is evident, but you’re in such a daze that you barely clock it.
“Inside me.” You manage, and he groans loudly before he lets go, filling you up with everything he has. His body slumps over yours, both of you trying so hard to pull yourselves back to reality.
He slides out of you and you both groan at the loss of being one.
You turn over on your back, once again blinded by the lights. Your eyes flutter close as you assess everything that partook the last—thirty? fourty? you don’t fucking know—minutes of your life.
Your body slowly floats back down to reality, and you peel your eyes open when you hear shuffling. Joel is on his knees again, spreading your legs to look at his handiwork. He looks up at you with that same devilish smirk, licking up his spend from your cunt before hovering over you.
He uses his thumb to coax your jaw open, spitting his spend into your mouth.
“Swallow.” He demands, and you do as he says. You open your mouth to show him you did, and a satisfied look washes over his features.
“Hope you feel me leakin’ out of you all goddamn night, sweetheart.”
You look at him incredulously, reality crashing down with the unwavering truth: you and Joel really fucked.
He was inches away from your face, and for a fleeting moment, you wondered what it would be like if he kissed you. His lips looked so soft.
But that would make it too complicated. It would turn into a thing you didn’t need it to be, and you knew kissing him would make the probability of hating him into a fucking zero.
Get a grip.
But, you catch him. You catch his eyes flicker down to your lips, the same thing probably reeling in his mind, too.
Maybe one wouldn’t hurt.
No. You wouldn’t allow it for yourself. He can take his Southern charm and shove it up his ass.
You cleared your throat and moved to stand up. Your legs were shaky at first, but you found your grounding as you walked over to the mirror on the other side of the room.
You straightened out your appearance, making sure you didn’t have “I just got fucked” plastered across your forehead. Once you were satisfied, you turned around to see Joel sitting on the bed.
You nod at him once, “Joel,” and you’re unlocking the door to be rejoined by the thumping music and loud laughter, leaving him to stare at you as you walked away.
You made your way into the backyard, needing a breath of fresh air after everything that ensued.
“There you are! I was looking all over for you.” Tess pulls you into her side, giving your arm a playful squeeze as she holds you close.
“Yeah, I uh, went to smoke a J.” Which, yes, was of course partially true—but you’d probably never admit to her that you just got done getting your brains fucked out by Joel Miller.
She probably wouldn’t even believe you if you told her, anyway.
It didn’t need to become a thing, even if it was the best sex you’ve ever had in your life.
Sex you’d probably be having flashbacks about years down the line, just as Joel promised.
You groan inwardly, eyes drifting upward to casually scan the backyard. You caught a familiar pair already staring at you from across the way, and your whole body bloomed with aching heat once more.
Those brown eyes were accompanied with a sickening smirk, and two seconds later, a wink.
You knew no matter how hard you tried, and as much as you fucking despised him, it wouldn’t be easy to get him out of your head.
You were so fucked, you think.
The idea of admitting that you maybe didn’t hate him was unwarranted, but you knew deep down it was your reality. You really didn’t hate him.
And maybe, just maybe, these parties weren’t so bad after all.
tags: @ilovepedro @nostalxgic @punkshort @endlessthxxghts
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dividers by @saradika-graphics
#joel miller#joel miller smut#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#joel miller x reader#joel miller one shot#joel miller imagines#joel miller imagine#joel miller au#actor!joel#joel miller x female reader#joel miller fanfic#joel miller tlou#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x afab!reader#fic: the hills
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A best-seller 'rags to riches to prison shackles' autobiography written by a woman in her late sixties, who was finally exonerated for the murder of her late, wealthy husband after 20 years in Blackgate prison, is getting a limited-series adaption. One of the most anticipated scenes is a exchange from early on in the book, in which the author describes a private, emotional conversation she shared with a young Bruce Wayne, where she recounts details about the passing of her son.
Countless fans try to theorize who will be casted as a younger Bruce Wayne. Some think it should be Damian Wayne, but many point out that he's too young for the role. Others think it should be Tim Drake, who would be at the right age to play it. However, as CEO, he doesn't exactly have an open schedule, and they haven't heard him disappearing for filming all those months ago. Other people think Bruce Wayne himself should play the role, using deep-fake technology to make him appear younger.
In the end, their questions go unanswered until the first trailer airs online for the limited series. It previews the very first glimpse of a young Bruce Wayne, played by previously unknown 'Danny Fenton', and the internet-
Loses its fucking mind.
(Bruce might just be getting a new son from this after all.)
#dpxdc#dpxdc au#fyi the casting director was trying to figure out who to hire#and the producer just goes#I know a guy#and then BAM#suddenly danny has a job#he's not actually an actor#but he's a uni kid#he's got bills to pay y'know?#danny's not actually his son btw#he just looks really REALLY similar#but the internet doesn't know that ;)#can you tell i've been ready one too many actor au fics?
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nsfw, actor eddie, hair and makeup artist steve, sub top
The downside of Eddie having a bunch of tattoos is that he has to sit in the makeup trailer longer than anyone else getting them covered, along with his character’s makeup.
The plus side is he gets more time with Steve.
They have this game. It started on Eddie’s first day. He was all wired up with nerves because it’s his first time in a lead role on a big production like this.
Every nightmare scenario of how he could screw up was running through his mind. He couldn’t sit still enough for Steve to give him the wavy hair and facial scars that his character has.
Eddie kept apologizing and Steve was great about it. He asked Eddie about the heart on his arm with “Wayne” across the ribbon and distracted Eddie from over-practicing his lines, busy telling Steve all about his uncle who raised him and where they’re from.
Eddie killed it on set that day, and pretty much every day since then. He loves acting, he loves fully immersing himself in the story he’s telling. This role is the biggest of his career so far, but it’s not even about that, he loves the character he’s playing, he meshes well with the director and has chemistry with his co-stars.
But Steve is his favorite part of this whole deal.
Eddie ran out of tattoos for their little game of telling Steve the story behind a different one every day. They never ran out of things to talk about though.
But Steve takes his job seriously and he’s good at it. He explained once why he likes doing this. It’s an art, getting the right look for the right character, or the right person, connecting with and taking care of whoever’s in his chair.
He explained it all while he was running his fingers through Eddie’s hair in those perfectly practiced strokes. Steve’s very good at his job, that’s why it feels so nice when he touches Eddie, even if it’s just work, because Steve cares about this. That’s why it’s easy for Eddie to be lulled into bliss when Steve’s fingers are so gentle on his scalp.
And, okay Eddie’s not made of stone, and he has eyes so he has a thing for Steve. A crush, but there’s a line there. This is work. They’re co-workers, despite how many pretty smiles and lingering looks are exchanged. Eddie won’t cross that line.
Until he does.
It’s an accident. He never would have done it on purpose.
Steve’s fingers are just so talented. Eddie’s eyes are closed, he was having another fit of nerves earlier so Steve took extra time with his hair. It put Eddie in a space so relaxed that he feels like he’s floating when Steve’s hand twists in his hair with the perfect amount of tension. It feels so intentional. The moan just slips out.
Eddie apologizes like crazy afterward, he feels terrible. Steve is a picture of professionalism, he’s charming and fun but he runs the makeup trailer like it's the navy and he takes his shit seriously and Eddie crossed a line.
But Steve just shushes him, guides him to sit back in the chair and says it’s alright.
Eddie blinks in disbelief but Steve just looks at him.
It’s a look.
A look that Eddie can’t stop thinking about for the rest of production.
It’s a look he sees again on his last day on set.
Eddie already shook everyone’s hands and said his goodbyes. He's just stopping by his trailer one last time to make sure the assistants got all his stuff cleared out.
When he opens the door, his stomach flips, finding Steve waiting inside for him.
“You wrapped filming today,” Steve says in place of a greeting. But his smile and the way his arm is languidly stretched over the back of the couch is inviting.
Something tells Eddie to lock the door before he goes over to sit next to Steve.
His gaze is even more intense up close. Eddie feels Steve’s eyes on him everywhere, like he’s just eating Eddie up.
“Yeah, I did,” Eddie says, a tad nervous.
He doesn't want to make a move he can’t take back in case he’s wrong about why Steve’s in his trailer looking at him like that. He doesn’t want to be one of those douchebag movie stars that assumes everyone wants him and he has a free pass to hit on the crew. He’s sure Steve’s had enough of that bullshit.
“We don’t work together anymore,” Steve simply states.
“I know, it sucks,” Eddie laughs a bit sad because he really is, “Sorry if it’s weird to say, but I’m gonna miss you.”
Steve’s eyes shift between Eddie’s and then down to his lips, making his heart stutter in his chest.
“No it’s a good thing,” Steve says and Eddie’s brows knit in confusion. “It means I can do this finally.”
Eddie thinks he’s watching his daydreams play out the way Steve starts leaning in.
It’s only real when Steve’s lips press softly to his.
Just once, so light, long enough for Eddie to catch on that it’s happening, then Steve pulls back before Eddie can reciprocate.
Steve chuckles faintly at the dramatic frown Eddie’s pulling.
Then Steve’s hand cups Eddie’s cheek, his thumb stroking Eddie’s face as he tells him, “We can stop there and keep it professional and say our goodbyes. Or I can climb on your lap and give you something to remember me by.”
Eddie gulps. Steve’s offer and his silky voice and his perfect touch that Eddie’s already so addicted to is such a heady mix, making it hard to form words. “Yes, climb me— I mean, option B.”
“Yeah, honey, you want that?” God, Eddie always blushed hot when Steve called him that casually in the makeup trailer, now he’s melting hearing Steve say it like this. “Well, go on and take your pants off for me.”
It happens in a syrupy warm blur. Eddie sheds his jeans and underwear like he’s told and he’s rewarded with a gorgeously naked Steve Harrington in his lap. He’s allowed to touch, only after Steve has threaded his fingers through Eddie’s hair more reverently than any time before, like something precious in his hands, and kisses Eddie deep and hard.
Then Eddie gets to nuzzle the chest hair that’s been driving him crazy peeking out of Steve’s shirt every time he leaned over. Eddie gets to touch Steve’s soft strong thighs, feeling the smatter of hair leading up to his ass that’s been driving Eddie even more insane trying not to stare at. Then he slips his fingers in and moans into Steve’s mouth when he feels the hard bulb of a plug nestled inside Steve.
Steve pulls back from the kiss, smiling and smearing his thumb over the spit on Eddie’s lips. “Yeah, I’m so ready for you, Eddie, baby, you have no idea.”
Eddie’s practically drooling watching Steve take out the plug and get a bottle of lube from between the cushions and a condom, oiling up his hand. When his fist wraps around Eddie’s cock, Eddie helplessly bucks into it, but Steve’s solid thighs pin him down. That makes his mind lust-foggy and his eyes flutter up at Steve, who bites his lip watching Eddie as he lines up to his hole.
“Mm... you know how bad I wanted you?” Steve sounds relieved as he sinks down on Eddie’s cock. “You know how bad I wanted to climb on your lap when you were sitting in my chair. You know how starry-eyed you get when you’re drifting? Just from me touching your hair, so fucking cute.”
Eddie’s just a mess of moans, Steve is so hot and tight around him. It’s too much with all the sweet praise to really comprehend that Steve knew all those times he was getting spacy.
“It’s so easy to put you down.” Steve’s breath comes harder, not letting Eddie move as he starts to roll his hips. “Such an actor, high strung all the time but that’s okay. It’s your passion. That’s sexy. Been dying to hold you down and ride you until you can’t think about anything but me, though.”
Eddie gasps out a groan when Steve tugs sharply on his hair, being right about everything that Eddie’s into so far. It’s no secret that Eddie’s intense, just a different kind of intensity in the bedroom than with his craft.
Steve seems to get it, seems to know that Eddie needs everything hard and relentless with the way he’s bouncing on Eddie’s dick. He can feel the strength in Steve’s hips, dying to feel them fucking into him too, mouth watering at the sight of his thick cock jumping with all the movement.
“You’d let me tie you down and use you, hm?” Steve asks, drawing Eddie by the hair into a biting kiss that just barely grazes the surface of what Eddie would let Steve do to him. “I know. I’d fuck you up so good if we had time, baby.”
“Steve, holy shit,” Eddie practically sobs, fingers digging into Steve’s ass.
“You close, honey?”
“Fuck, yeah.”
Steve suddenly cups his face, just a tad rough and Eddie thought— hoped for one hot moment— that Steve was going to slap him. Just the thought is enough to make him do what he's supposed to, “Can I?”
“Mh-hm just keep looking at me,” Steve strokes Eddie’s face as he circles his hips and takes Eddie deep. “Wanna see those pretty eyes when you come inside me.”
Eddie does as he’s told, his gaze falling half-shut as he lets go, spilling into the condom like he’s pumping Steve full.
It’s the hottest thing that’s ever happened to him, followed by the second hottest thing when Steve kisses his slack mouth as his warm heavy spurts of come land on Eddie’s belly.
While Eddie’s coming down, he lets Steve shift him onto the couch. He gets some tissues and then pulls Eddie to lie on his chest because of course he would, he’s Steve.
“Was that enough to remember me by when you get all big and famous?” Steve asks after a while, trailing his knuckles down Eddie’s bare arm.
Eddie looks up, seeing the first glimpse of hesitance in all of Steve’s practiced smoothness.
So Eddie leans in and assures him between pecks on his lips that slowly turn to smiles pressing together. “Nope, think we gotta do it again. And again. And again.”
#here's some sub top eddie from yours truly#also i've talked about actor eddie before but we need to talk about him more plssplss#steddie#eddie munson#steve harrington#steddie fic#steddie ficlet#steddie smut#subeddieweek#sub eddie week#famous eddie munson#hairdresser steve harrington
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I'm seeing some frustration over fandom creatives expressing anger or distress over people feeding their work into ChatGPT. I'm not responding to OP directly because I don't want to derail their post (their intent was to provide perspective on how these models actually work, and reduce undue panic, which is all coming from a good place!), but reassurances that the addition of our work will have a negligible impact on the model (which is true at this point) does kind of miss the point? Speaking for myself, my distress is less about the practical ramifications of feeding my fic into ChatGPT, and more about the principle of someone taking my work and deliberately adding it to the dataset.
Like, I fully realize that my work is a drop in the bucket of ChatGPT's several-billion-token training set! It will not make a demonstrable practical difference in the output of the model! That doesn't change the fact that I do not want my work to be part of the set of data that the ChatGPT devs use for training.
According to their FAQ, ChatGPT can and will use user input to train itself. The terms and conditions explicitly state that they save your chats to help train and improve their models. (You can opt-out, but sharing is the default.) So if you're feeding a fic into ChatGPT, unless you've explicitly opted out, you are handing it to the ChatGPT team and giving them permission to use it for training, whether or not that was your intent.
Now, will one fic make a demonstrable difference in the output of the model? No! But as the person who spent a year and a handful of months laboring over my fic, it makes a difference to me whether my fic, specifically, is being used in the dataset. If authors are allowed to have a problem with the ChatGPT devs for scraping millions of fics without permission, they're also allowed to have a problem with folks handing their individual fics over via the chat interface.
I do want to add that if you've done this to a fic, please don't take this as me being upset with you personally! Folks are still learning new information and puzzling out what "good" vs. "bad" use is, from an ethical standpoint. (Heck, my own perspective on this is deeply based on my own subjective feelings!) And we certainly shouldn't act like one person feeding a fic into ChatGPT has the same practical negative impact, on a broad societal scale, as a team using a web crawler to scrape five billion pieces of artwork for Stable Diffusion.
The point is that fundamentally, an ethical dataset should be obtained with the consent of those providing the data. Just because it's normalized for our data to be scraped without consent doesn't make it ethical, and this is why ChatGPT gives users the option to not share data— there is actually a standardized way (robots.txt) for website servers to set policies for how bots/crawlers can interact with them, for exactly this reason— and I think fandom artists and authors are well within their rights to express a desire for opting out to be the socially-respected default within the fandom community.
#maybe this is an ice cold take but i've been meaning to go off about datasets for a while so here we are i guess#i can respect what op's frustrations were and what they were trying to get at! but also i do not want my fic in chatgpt's dataset#regardless of whether it will make a practical difference#and again i don't think the people doing this are necessarily bad actors or having a huge negative social impact#chatgpt#chat gpt#ai#fandom#negative#(possibly! i'm trying not to be!! especially because this is very feelings-based and there are many things i am not considering)#the model may not demonstrably change because of your fic. but it does have your fic now and that does matter maybe idk
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Princess.
Trevante Rhodes x BLACK!FEM!reader
WARNINGS: SUB!reader, DOM!trevante, thigh riding, size kink, breeding kink, rough s*x, reader and Tre are married but it isn’t implied, daddy kink, no protection(wrap it before ya smack it), just really nasty chile…
SUMMARY: how Trevante acts with his pretty princess <3 (I was in heat writing this, sorry in advance)
Ps. Inspo from @notapradagurl7 recent fic <3
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He’s so exhausted when he comes home from his big boy job but seeing her gives him so much energy. He just wants to pull her into his lap and hold her, letting her ramble about her day and tell him all about the new things she learned and all the things she bought when she went out shopping.
“Tell daddy what you got” He’d say as she bounced excitedly on his thighs, innocent and unknowingly waking up a demon that was kept under wraps since early that morning. He just didn’t wanna wake his baby so early. She’d go on and on about all the cute clothes she found and the purses she bought online, the good food she ate and the nap she took before he arrived. He’d listen and pretend his dick wasn’t growing hard under her ass.
How he’d run baths for her when he was home, adding her favorite scent and bubbles to the water as she’d put her hair in a ponytail to avoid wetting it. She’d ask nicely to be carried to the tub because her legs were just too sore after being fucked until she blacked out and forgot her name. Her knees also aching from being on them for so long, taking his dick deep down her throat until she choked and a strong gag forced him to pull out before he was painting her face with his cum. She already felt so full of him even with his essence leaking out of her and dripping down her thigh, there was no way she would make it to the bathroom.
When she’d do something that was on the “no-no” list and he’d make her pick her own punishments. He’d ask if she deserved an easy one and she’d nod with teary eyes, already having a stinging bottom from the spankings he gave her earlier for touching herself while he was at work. He’d shake his head with a ‘tsk’ and simply throw her over his shoulder, carrying her to their playroom.
And that time she had made him play with her, forcing a game of hide and seek before he’d give up in frustration from not finding her for over ten minutes. She’d giggle and reveal she was hiding in the coat closet the whole time and as obvious as it was, he still hadn’t found her.
He wasn’t always a nice daddy. He had his limits when she just wouldn’t listen. Those were the times where he either made her cum back to back with no break until their sheets were soaking wet or he’d refuse to let her cum at all, watching her cry and beg as he’d take the vibrator away from her swollen and overstimulated clit any time she made that face.
He loved when she was desperate for him. She was just too cute. There were times where he’d go on business trips for days and come back to her needy than ever. She’d do anything for him just to have a simple touch.
When he suspected her to have touched herself in that time of need and he’d refuse to give her what she wanted, but he’d let her ride his thigh like the needy crybaby she was. Her panties were so damn wet that when she rose up off of him she left a wet spot on his slacks, proof of how much she had came just from that little bit of release.
“You miss daddy? I know you did, princess” He smiles, those pearly whites shining at her. She melts from the sight.
He loved her reaction when he’d fill her up unexpectedly. He slams into her with that last rough stroke and she’d let a small gasp fall from those plump lips that were once glossed before Trevante had basically kissed it all off. She could feel the liquid threatening to drip from her entrance and she could only hope that was what would get her pregnant with his baby.
She couldn’t help but think of carrying his seed and getting turned on. Sometimes she’d purposely make him cum inside of her so he’d go to work with empty balls and she’d get to run errands filled to the brim with him. Sometimes she’d even stop by a few maternity stores while she was at it too, just out of curiosity(not) before scurrying off to do something else.
He was so sweet. He’d buy her gifts she had been wanting for a long time, no matter how useless or weird it was to him or anybody else, he knew she wanted it and anything princess wanted, princess got. She even had her own room, decorated how she liked with her favorite colors and favorite things.
He was only ever rough with her when she wanted him to be, which was most of the time, but there were times where she wanted to be soft too, and he supplied that also. Some small gestures like fixing the bow in her hair or helping her reach something on the top shelf….or slowly fucking into her as he cradled her head in his large hands, looking into her soft eyes while she pouted, her tummy feeling butterflies every time he’d hit her special spot. He was so tired and fucked out, but he couldn’t stop until he and his princess was drained completely.
The way he ate her out alone was soft. He licked and slurped on her pretty little pearl, complementing her on how good she tasted and how daddy could eat her for hours. She would try not to close her legs and push him away.
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🏷️ @thatone-girly @notapradagurl7 @swavydadon @miyahmaraj @planetblaque @msinterludee @milkiboo @bloodripleygal @stevelacyballs @naj-ay444 @blackelysian @shaolyninferno
#black fanfic writer#black fanfiction#black!reader#black reader#black!fem!reader#masterlist#black!oc#black actors#trevante rhodes fan fiction#trevante rhodes smut#trevante rhodes imagines#trevante rhodes fic#trevante x reader#trevante rhodes x reader#trevante rhodes#actor smut#smut masterlist#black smut#smut blog#smutty#henneseyhoe
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girl crush
Summary: there’s more than two beds, but of course you sleep in his.
W.C.: 2.5k
Warnings: y’all know me - it’ll be the usual! Smut, idolatry, devotion, unprotected sex (wrap it up!), pussy drunk Steve— I don’t make the rules 😤‼️
a/n: aka your first time with Steve, who may or may not be your boyfriend?
🎶 I’ve got a girl crush, I don’t get no sleep, I don’t get no peace, thinkin’ bout her 🎶
“Wish I could babe,” his voice sounds distant over the phone, wind whipping every other word through the mic, “But we just started production out here, we won’t wrap for a while yet.” You’d caught him during a break in filming, miraculously.
Several dates in LA after an introduction from Eddie, and here you are trying (and failing) to plan another. He’s back in California after a press tour and you were fresh off of recording your latest album.
“Well,” you drawl out, “I could come to you?” The question is rushed, breathless, you screw your eyes close in fear of fucking it all up.
A pause.
“You sure?”
“S’easier than dealing with your schedule, Harrington,” you say lightly, “Palm Springs is doable enough.”
He’s working on some indie picture out in the desert, you were murky on the details. You hear shuffling from his end and ‘psst’s trying to get someone’s attention.
“Rob… Rob! Can you– yeah, the address?”
A moment later your phone dings with a notification.
“So,” you say, throwing clothes haphazardly into a bag, “What’ve you got planned for us?”
Three or so hours later finds you in the desert and absolutely ecstatic about it. Dressed down in cut-offs and an old merch tank–or, as dressed down as you could get–you breathe in deep, thankful to be out of LA. Little to no paps and tabloids to be worried about–or worse, Deuxmoi acolytes–so you could finally relax.
Steve met you out front with the fattest joint you’d seen in years, he nearly dropped it when you all but tackled him to the ground. You were so happy to be with him again.
“Little soon to be proposing, no?”
“Think I’d do better than some hydro from Arglye,” he grouses, but you take it from him anyway with a deep inhale, “Says ‘hi’ by the way.”
“Tell him I accept and we’re registered at Tiffany’s,” you say finally, exhaling slowly.
He rolls his eyes, “Okay, Material Girl,” he helps to hoist you back up, “Tour time.”
After the grand tour, which was impressive–“Holy shit, do you have Robin on retainer? ‘Cause if not...”--Steve entertained you in the kitchen, making what he called the ‘secret sauce.’
“Oh, that?” you scoff, pouring some wine, “Had that on date number two, if you’ll recall.” You take a sip and continue with a waggle of your brows, “My compliments to the chef, as ever.”
Steve blushes at that, recalling how pretty you had looked with your glossed lips around his cock, all warm and soft under the dim light from the setting sun. A groan rumbles from his chest as he braces himself against the countertop, knuckles turning white.
“You’re a menace,” he said, voice low and gravelly, before he turned his attention back to the pots and pans on the stove.
You shrug and drink some wine, savoring the crisp tart taste against your tongue. Steve flits from one spot to the next while he cooks, stirring the sauce one moment and blanching veggies the next; all the while, remaining loose enough to pour a second glass of wine for you and another for himself.
Infuriatingly attractive that.
The sun had gone down in the desert while Steve finished with the pasta. You’d assigned yourself the task of setting the table and doing the dishes after dinner. Plates and cutlery arranged, you helped yourself to some salad while Steve served the pasta.
You mouth had already been watering at the mere scent of whatever was bubbling away on the stove, and all it took was one bite to have you audibly moaning at the dinner table. His eyes met yours, mischievous and curious, as he sipped his wine.
“Fuck me, that’s good,” you say with closed eyes, savoring the taste.
Steve laughs quietly across the table.
Dinner goes on, you try to reign in your vocal appreciation of the meal. He fills you in on some details of the shoot, set gossip, and the like. You offer up the scant information you have about the upcoming tour and album release. Clearing the table is easy enough between the two of you, knocking hips every so often as you washed and he dried the dishes.
You ended up in his bedroom, collecting the duffle you’d packed from the guest room down the hall. It was a kind thought, that you would opt for a separate room and your own space; he was hesitant like that, never wanting to assume.
Electing to change in the ensuite bathroom, you step out of the denim cutoffs and fold them neatly on the counter. Shoes had been kicked off at the front door earlier in the evening, leaving you now in an ancient Corroded Coffin shirt that had seen better days. He’s sat on the bed, looking all soft and sweet–tousled hair and wire rimmed glasses framing his face nicely, skin flushed from the wine.
He bit his lip when he saw you come out, hair a mess and legs, legs, legs, but a vision nevertheless. He can’t help himself as you step between his splayed knees at the edge of the bed, his hands coming to rest against he curve of your hips.
“Hey honey,” he murmurs as your arms wrap around his neck.
“Hey Steve,” you greet in return, lips pulled tight in an embarrassed smile.
Gently, he tugs you closer to him, the fabric of the shirt rucking up against your skin. His finger skirts against the back of your thigh, the skin shivering involuntarily. “Missed you,” he says, voice raspy and low.
His soft gaze lingers on you, warm hazel eyes looking up through long lashes. “Missed you too,” you say quietly.
“Yeah?” he asks, fingers grasping at the flare of your hips before he leans back on the bed, “C’mere then.”
As you clamber onto the bed, he lays back against the cool cotton of the duvet pulling you down with him. Substantively seated in his lap, you rest your head against his chest and let out a sigh.
“Comfy?” he says, a hand trailing lazily up and down your back. You nod, fingering the fabric of the shirt between your fingers. Softened by time and wear, paint and lettering disintegrating each time you wore it. It smells comforting like you–cardamom and sandalwood with a hint of something boozy–smells like home.
“I’ll keep you close then.”
His other arms falls against your hips while he continues to trace shapes against your back. You feel his lips leave at the crown of your head before his head falls back against the mattress. It’s quiet and he can tell from the rhythm of your breathing that you’re a few minutes from falling asleep.
The nation’s favorite spitfire in his bed, face nuzzled into his chest, bit by bit chiseling your way into his heart.
Steve lets his teeth worry his bottom lip, willing his nerves not to get the best of him. “Y’know, I really like you.”
“Mmm,” your drowsy moan comforting, the lazy smile tugging at your lips setting off the butterflies in his stomach. “I really like you too.”
Fuck, he hadn’t been this nervous in a while. And yeah, you’d been seeing each other for a minute but not long enough to have the ‘what are we’ conversation.
His hand tangles in your hair, loose and windswept from the drive, fingers scratching lightly at your scalp. A muffled moan pours from your lips and vibrates his chest.
“Sorry, sorry” you slur sleepily, “M’not normally such a lightweight.”
Steve, for his part, doesn’t think anything of it. You’d had, what, one glass of wine at dinner— maybe two? But you could be tired from the drive.
Maybe he’s misreading this thing entirely. A brief flicker of panic licks up his spine; maybe it’s too soon, maybe you just want to sleep—
“Can hear you thinkin’ up there,” you mumble and pull him from his downward spiral. A brief movement as you settle your chin to his chest and glance up. Your eyes are half-lidded and sultry, lips pulled in an enticing fashion.
He grunts when you shift your weight until you’re practically sitting on his chest to keep him breathless. He’s smiling up toward the ceiling, one side of his lips curled upward, jaw slack, easy and yielding because Steve offers himself to everything like this: headfirst and wide-open.
It’s be infuriating if he wasn’t crashing headlong toward you. It’d be irritating if he wasn’t so damn earnest about it.
After a while of feeling out each other's atmosphere, eyes catching every so often before flitting away to focus on something else, Steve arches up to request a kiss, all warmth and need.
You lean down to touch your lips to his gently, brushing your nose with his along the way— a wholly delicate gesture he never would’ve expected from you, but has grown to adore.
“We can go slow,” you breathe against his lips. “Don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
Steve’s stomach swoops. He reaches up to cradle the back of your neck, drawing your forehead to his. “That so?”
You're smiling— so big and beautiful it hurts. And his heart is so loud he thinks you must hear it.
The kiss was clumsy, you chalked it up to too much drink, but the touch of your lips to his burned down his throat, like whiskey and joy— warm and smooth and cataclysmic as his hand cupped your face. You kiss him and Steve hears himself sighing into your mouth. His cheeks flush in excitement because you’re not letting go, so he presses his lips to yours a little slower, a little firmer, learning all the ways you like to feel him there.
“Steve,” you breathe, and it lights him up. “Steve,” you say again, and his eyes slip shut. Even now, he’s crushed with longing.
You press the heat of your core into his groin, grinding your hips into his.
When your tongue touches him again, he thinks he might go blind. His eyes flutter open as much as they can, to savor the moment of your face so close to his. Your eyes, shut. Your skin, flushed. Your hair, a silky, folded curtain against his chest.
You are straddling Steve’s thigh now, sitting on your knees and moving against his thick limb in slow orbits. The underwear sitting against your hips is still there but does nothing to keep the slickness between your legs at bay. His thigh is moist from it, and it catches a shine in the fading light.
“Need you, baby,” you plead. “Any way you want.”
You glow like a full moon in the night, divining his animal desires with phosphorescent eyes.
Too eager now with permission. Too eager now with the fiercest kind of lust—of love—he lets it go. All for you, and you all for him. He nips at your collar, drowning deeper and deeper. Fingers meandering to hook into the gauzy and damp fabric hiding you from him and pulls. Wants you bare and shuddering beneath him. Hip bones against hip bones, the noises you make—ragged and hoarse—sending tremors down his back.
Steve grips your waist and moves you from his leg. A whimper escapes before it turns into a gasp as he turns you around, back meeting the cool of the sheets. “You call it, sweetheart.” Comes his husky voice in your ear. You know he means it completely.
A moan slips forth when he dives into the back of your shirt and tears it off, does the same with his. He wants to hear that noise again. The two of you are entwined like real lovers, pulling apart only to breathe and whisper to each other.
He falls onto his forearms, touching foreheads together, noses together, lips hovering until you meet him in a sloppy half-kiss, tongue slipping over his, spit and sweat shimmering across your mouth.
Steve doesn’t bother taking his boxer-briefs off completely, crumpling them down just below his cock is enough for him to slide in like he was created for you. He tells you as much, as you whimper and cry out beneath him.
“Look at me,” He prompts, tilting your face so you see where he’s connected to you. He’s searing hot as he thrusts upwards. “You were made for this.” He’s delirious with it, the heavy thrum that flows through the union of your bodies, “You were made for me.”
Like a prayer, he repeats your name.
Inside of that deafening miasma, Steve is still awake and a part of him knows that this is what he’d been longing for. His cock is throbbing inside of you and every time he pulls out and thrusts back in, your cunt wipes any shred of doubt from his mind.
Your head tips backwards and he catches the base of your skull in one giant hand. “So good,” you praise, “You’re so good, Steve.”
God, he’s so hard. Cramming himself inside your body, torso to torso, as close as he can get because he needs it—he needs it so bad.
He’s blind with it, drunk off it, beginning to rut like he’s in heat, surprised at the confessions he burns into your neck g’na marry you, fuck— that have you gasping and clenching in equal measure. Catalogues and litanies of honey, baby, fuckfuckfuck, god—growling devotions sinking into your throat, your shoulder, your chest. Sucking inscriptions in the common tongue of love as they slip past his lips.
You take all of him again and again, matching his pace, eyes squeezed shut, opening briefly but dazed. Panting and pleading his name, sudden waves of orgasm making you shake and shiver. Then he starts again— easier, kinder, letting the beast work its way back through his skin. Tongue sweeping lines. Canines pulling flesh.
You sigh and smile. A sacred dream of flesh and blood wrapped around him. “Wanna see you, baby,” you say, “Let me see you, sweetheart.”
So he does, blinking through the darkness and finds you like a beacon, as you always are, as you always will be. His hair falls to one side, lighter from the summer sun, suspended and rocking along.
“’S that good? Like this?”
“Yeah. Yes,” he babbles, “Wanna give you everything.”
“Come with me, Steve—come on, baby.”
And it’s all so fast. Your words. His words. Your hands. His hands. Hips moving in heavy thrusts and hair falling over his face and endless moans of god, fuck, 'm gonna come at the last minute before his eyes roll back behind his lids.
Steve buries his face into your neck, groaning. “Mine,” he whispers finally coming back to himself. Raspy and slow and again when you gasp. Your nails dig into his back reflexively, thighs squeezing him tight.
He’s smiling like an idiot because he doesn’t know what else to do about it. His heart is fluttering and filling up. He looked at you for too long, thought about you too hard even though you’re right here and his, and maybe that’s what launched itself into his dizzy head.
A hard kiss that makes you whimper. Mine. Another to the line of your open jaw. Mine. Your throat. Your collar. Your chest. Mine. Mine. Mine.
You smile into his temple, rubbing your cheek on him, too.
“Keeping me all to yourself?”
He nods eagerly, heart full, then overflowing. “Keeping you forever.”
#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington fan fiction#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington smut#modern!actor!steve#fic: hmlhr#Spotify
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Part 2 now here
Okay to expand on this I just think: Steve who’s been in a couple of tv shows and is having a moment, famous offscreen for his hair and his charm and onscreen for his ability to find chemistry with anyone (and also, again, his hair).
And Eddie who is a complete unknown; he’s been in some stage productions and had the tiniest bit parts on TV but nobody’s ever, like, recognized him on the street.
Eddie auditions for a new HBO show. When his agent tells him that Steve Harrington is already attached Eddie is like cool, I’ll never get this part but the audition will be good practice so why not. They’re never gonna cast him. He’s sure he’s playing it too weird, and he hasn’t cut his hair (but he will when a part needs him to) but then he gets a callback. Twice.
And then he’s getting called in to do a chemistry test with some of the other actors. The show is like a modern Freaks and Geeks but with a slow burn murder mystery, and Eddie’s actually dead in the main timeline but about half the show is told in flashbacks so it’s a big part. When he meets Steve he doesn’t know what he’s expecting from the paparazzi darling but the guy is super genuine, makes Eddie feel way more comfortable than he has so far. They do their read together and Eddie is just thinking to himself like… damn, this guy really is good, because that felt crazy. He’s acted opposite some insanely talented people but it’s never been that easy. That must just be what it’s like working with Steve.
And now it’s dangerous because he really wants the part. He wants to stop bartending to make rent. He wants to be on this show, because the pages he’s seen are good, and he thinks he could really bring something to it. And because he wants to work with Steve. And even the rest of the cast, too, but—
The day Eddie gets the part he gets a text from a number he doesn't know. Hey man, really looking forward to working with you. And then, a few minutes later, It's Steve btw. He's smiling down at his phone so much that his agent, whose office he's in, is like "What, did you just score another life-changing opportunity I don't know about?" And Eddie is like "Nope, just the one, uh—it's just my uncle saying congrats. Anyway—"
They don't make him cut his hair. They don't tell him to stop playing it so weird. Everything goes so well that it feels fucking hard to believe, in fact, like he's just waiting for the other shoe to drop. There's one group of them playing seniors in high school, the main foursome of which is Eddie, Steve, and their two girl costars, Nancy and Robin. And then there's a younger group playing freshmen whose story intersects with theirs.
His and Steve's characters are set up as opposites, almost rivals, and at least at first, you're presumably supposed to wonder if it's Steve's rich, popular guy who's killed Eddie's character. Nobody in the cast knows the truth yet; the scripts get revealed to them as they're shooting them and they've been told the murderer won't even be revealed in the first season (so here's hoping they get renewed, because Eddie would really like to know who killed him—and he'd also like to keep making HBO money).
Their scenes are some of Eddie's favorites to film (although he also has a soft spot for the kids—especially Dustin who plays a hilarious and awesome nerd who does D&D with Eddie's DM). Eddie hopes his and Steve's stuff is working on whatever level they ultimately need it to work on—sometimes they do get notes that tell them to pull back or dig into something, to emphasize something else, so he has to trust that they're doing the right things.
They often film out of order so when they eventually film the scene where Eddie and Steve's characters have their first run-in at school, it's far from the first time they've shot together. They get all up in each other's faces in the scene, and they've run the lines, done a table read, but acting it out at full intensity is. A lot. Steve's character is mad because he thinks Eddie's character is trying to steal his girlfriend (really she was just buying drugs from him). The way Steve plays it is all simmering intensity, the threat of violence just under the surface, and this is where Eddie doesn't know if he's reading something into it that isn't there. Because for him, there's also another kind of tension between them. And he doesn't know if it's his real life bleeding into the character; if it's just how Steve can't help being with everyone; or if it's a legitimate part of the scripts that they're supposed to be picking up on and exploring. He doesn't even know if anybody else sees what he does. But they do their takes; nobody tells him he's doing something wrong. And after the director calls cut the first time, Steve winks at him. Just to cut the tension, Eddie thinks, maybe to make him smile, which it does. It's fun watching Steve work, watching him slip into and out of character. He's really easy to work with.
Sometimes they get together to run lines or talk motivation or whatever. “It's crazy, you know," Eddie tells Steve in his trailer one night. Steve's is bigger so all of them usually hang out here. They've been making each other laugh, shooting the shit about increasingly funny backstories for their characters, and Eddie feels high with it. "I mean, you know this is my first real show. It's like—" he gestures between them, trying to encompass everything that happens on-camera and all the fun of working on that off-camera. "I didn't know it would be like this."
"Oh—yeah, man," Steve says and laughs a little self-deprecatingly, running a hand through his hair. "But, I mean, for me, I've done a couple and, with our stuff—it’s never been like this with anyone else, either.”
It's going to be so hard, Eddie thinks, looking back at him, to not read into that more than he should.
#steddie#steddie ficlet#steddie fic#actors au#if you have a good idea for their names on the show please speak right up i'm not sure what i'm feeling#would love to connect it to st somehow
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Shoutout to Bill and Ted’s Excellent Holiday Special for giving us outright canonical Jewish Bill S. Preston Esq. <3
#N posts stuff#bnt#bill s preston esquire#bill and ted#i mean it Was already canon : face the music had that one newspaper in the intro#that mentions Wyld Stallyns doing a ‘kabbalah inspired’ album <- no way around that. that’s Jewish#and the actor is jewish so that was always a plus#but it’s nice that he gets to say it lol; even if it IS in a joke where it’s something Ted keeps forgetting :/#i’ve been half planning a few fics about jewish bill (and ted <- converted) and the girls so this was a fun surprise for me :3
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i would like to welcome all of the new buggy simps that have joined us due to the live action
welcome to my brain space every single day, im more than happy to have you
#tonberry talks#literally i am so happy that more buggy simps are here#my buggy fic has gotten more traction because of the live action tee hee#he is so fine though right????#and the actor in the live action did SO GOOD#buggy the clown#buggy#buggy the clown x reader#buggy x reader#one piece#one piece x reader#op#op x reader
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