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btsvt-bar · 2 months

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FEVER ꩜ part two

pairing ꩜ journalist!mingyu x afab!reader x journalist!wonwoo

synopsis ꩜ a promotion at work, the new political reporter and a few bottles of wine. writing for a prestigious newspaper can be much more exciting than it seems. it all depends on who your co-workers are.

content/genre ꩜ frenemies with benefits, threesome, smut (18+ mdni)

author's note ꩜ not proofread.

part 2 is finally out!! sorry it took so long, i hope I can make it up to you with the plot I came up with. comments are appreciated! lmk what you think ♡

warnings under the cut!

part one | part two

warnings ꩜ smut, threesome, anal sex, oral (m. receiving), masturbation (f. and m. receiving), cum swallowing, double penetration, alcohol consumption, tipsy sex, sex in the workplace, voyeurism, tit sucking, jacuzzi sex, protected sex. lmk if i forgot something important.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・

chapter three

When your boss announced his retirement, both you and Mingyu were nominated to the position. It was up to the board to decide, and you hoped they would choose you.

Being an editor in chief has always been your dream. Even before you started college, you knew you wanted to be the head journalist. So you worked hard for recognition and it happened, almost ten years later. You got promoted earlier, and now you’re at the club with your friends to celebrate it.

You’re dancing along with Yunjin, a mojito in your hand. The music is really loud and it reverbs through your body. Your eyes are closed, you’re just enjoying the moment as much as you can.

Some drunk girl bumps on you and you spill your drink. “Ah, shit!” You curse loudly. “I’m going to buy another one, wait here!” You yell at Yunjin and she gives you a thumbs up.

You work your way through the crowd and reach the bar with some difficulty. As you get there, you find Wonwoo sipping on some whiskey.

“I think I owe you congratulations, editor in chief.” He smiles brightly, making your insides burn a little. “Lemme buy you a drink!” He offers and you accept.

“Thank you!” Your voice is loud and excited. “That’s nice of you.”

He winks.

"I need to use the bathroom, can you hold my drink?" You ask.

"I’ll come with you and we’ll buy it when we come back."

You lead the way and Wonwoo holds you by the waist so you won’t get lost. His big hand burn your skin through the fabric of your clothes and you shiver slightly.

When you reach the dark hallway at the back of the club, you blindly enter the first door you find.

"Oh, I think we’re on the wrong place."

The bathroom had some lockers and you assumed it was for the usage of the working crew. The music fades away and you see Wonwoo’s closed the door.

"I think we’re on the right place." Wonwoo speaks in a low tone, making his voice even more sensual.

"Why is that?" you make a thoughtful pout.

Wonwoo approaches you slowly. The hot look he shoots your way sends a shiver down your spine and makes something in your belly twist and turn.

"I can show you better than I can tell you." he says while licking his lips and bringing both hands to your face.

"Go ahead." you reply and let out a sigh when the man slides his elegant nose against your cheek.

His breath was an intoxicating mixture of mint and alcohol, and that, mixed with his striking perfume, makes you completely trapped in his sensual and dangerous atmosphere.

"Are you dating Mingyu?"

"Does it matter?" you sigh.

"Yes or no?" Wonwoo pulls away, looking into your eyes.

"No." you roll your eyes, feigning impatience. "May I know why you’re so interested?"

Wonwoo gives a side smile, the kind that makes the hairs on your arms rise.

"To know if I can do this." he says and pulls you by the waist, pressing your lips together in a passionate kiss.

The kiss is hot and filled with pure lust as he searches for your tongue, which you willingly present to him, letting him explore your mouth as he pleases. Your fingers delve into the strands of his hair, pulling carefully.

You tilt your head a little so he can deepen the kiss. Wonwoo swallows all the soft moans you emit as he thinks about the things he would like to do. You feel his cock throbbing in his pants, transforming him into a needy being desperate for friction.

On the other hand, you feel your body overheating, almost as if you have a fever. You want the man in front of you with such intensity that you fear exploding if you have to wait any longer.

You break apart for air. Heaving chests, swollen and red mouths after the hungry kiss.

"Your idea gave me an idea." you say seductively. "Sit there.”

Wonwoo doesn't even question the request and sits in the huge wood bench. He sits with his legs open, trying to give his erect penis some space.

Your gaze settles on the spot between his legs almost immediately. You lick your lips in an unconscious gesture, thinking that you made the best decision of the night.

You kneel down in front of Wonwoo, and slowly run your hands and nails up and down his thighs. The man feels his head spin just thinking about where that would lead. All of this feel like he is dreaming. You squeeze his erection over his pants and Wonwoo lets out a hoarse moan. You keep teasing him like this for a few minutes, making him get harder and harder.

When you decide you’ve tortured him long enough, you open the button on his black pants and pull it down along with the white boxers, releasing him from the fabric prison. Taking his member in hand, you begin slow movements. Wonwoo lets out a breathless moan, he wasn't ready for that for the fast pace. So he squirms, trying to hold his body weight with shaky arms.

You stimulating him abruptly. Wonwoo opens his eyes, his eyelids heavy due to excitement. You stare at him through your lashes, a wicked smile plastered on your beautiful face. Without ever breaking eye contact, you poke your tongue out and lick his member, from the base to the head. You start to gently suck at it, swirling your tongue around the entire length and eliciting moans from Wonwoo.

The man grabs your hair, the sight of what you were doing driving him crazy. You start to take him in your mouth slowly, your hand stimulating what doesn't fit inside and the other playing with his heavy and hot balls. Wonwoo's head is thrown back as he sighed in pleasure, your skilled mouth and hands working on his cock deliciously.

Wonwoo pulls your hair lightly and lowers his gaze. Understanding what he wanted, you stop sucking him for a few seconds to give permission. Then, he starts to guide your head, speeding up the pace of things a little.

He closes his eyes tightly and mentally curses every swear word available in his dictionary, feeling closer and closer to completely catching fire. Wonwoo's abdomen tightened as he began to feel his peak, his moans getting louder and louder.

"I-I’m a-almost" he gasps when you squeeze his member a little harder. "I’m almost there, you can stop now" he warns, but you don’t care and redouble efforts.

You move your hand up towards his abdomen. In a few moments, Wonwoo’s mind goes blank, as if you controlled him, and he groans in satisfaction.

The hot, salty liquid takes over your mouth, and you swallow everything in the best way possible.

Releasing him with a pop, you admire the man's exhausted state through your eyelashes. Wonwoo collects a few white drops that escaped from your mouth with his thumb and you suck his digit clean. The man moans softly, completely spent. You sport a satisfied and cunning smile. Wonwoo caresses the skin just below your eyes with his thumb, wiping away the moisture and gently removing a fallen eyelash.

"I guess you just earned a day off now." you state while biting your lower lip.

Wonwoo laughs loudly and covers his face with one hand, his whole body shaking in amusement. "I’ll take you up on that, boss."

chapter four

Mingyu blinks several times as he tries to focus on what was written on the computer screen. The man was trying to write a short article about the NFL players' statements on the pre-season, but he couldn't stay focused for long. Sighing in frustration, the journalist decides to get a mug of coffee.

As he passes your empty table, he realizes he misses spending time with you. He’s used to sharing work space with you since you two were interns. Exchanging insults and secret glances had been part of the routine for years. So not having you around was strange, to say the least.

Arriving close to the small kitchen, Mingyu notices that two people are talking inside the room. He reaches out to open the frosted glass door, but stops halfway when he realizes that the people in question are Yunjin and you. Mingyu leans against the wall next to the door, hiding from your view.

"Where did you go on Saturday?" Yunjin asks as she stirs the spoon in the coffee mug.

"Nowhere?" you respond with a confused tone.

"Come on, Y/N." The other says while rolling her eyes. "You disappeared for about thirty minutes during the party."

You widen your eyes, understanding what your friend was talking about. Taking a sip from your own mug, you try to buy a few seconds.

"If I tell you, you have to promise not to tell Dino!"

"For God’s sake, who did you kill?!"

You purse her lips, unsure of how to say what had happened. You feel your cheeks heat up with embarrassment. Not because of what you had done, but because of how it all happened.

"Don't worry, you won't need to help me clean up a crime scene." you laugh and Yunjin shows a smile. "I needed to use the bathroom…"

"Why do I feel like the end of that sentence is going to be shocking?" Yunjin rests the mug on the table, preparing herself for what you would reveal. "Go on."

"And Wonwoo went with me."

Outside the room, Mingyu feels his blood heat when he hears the exchange. He just couldn't tell if it was out of jealousy or embarrassment for eavesdropping.

"Aaaaand…?" Yunjin encourages you to continue.

"Why do you assume there's more to it than that?"

The youngest closes her eyes and gives you a bored look, as if to say “please, I know you!”.

"We kissed. And I gave him a blowjob." you speak quickly and quietly, leaving Yunjin stunned by the revelation. "Happy?"

Mingyu's eyes widen at the information. Now Wonwoo's smug expression made perfect sense. The other was passing him behind and, until that moment, he had no idea.

"Y/N! I can't believe you kept this from me all these days!"

"What did you want me to do?" you put your hands on your waist. "Hi, Yunjin. I just sucked Wonwoo off in the club’s crew bathroom. Do you want to see the place?"

"It would’ve been better than hiding this information!"

You throw a crumpled napkin in her direction, and Yunjin just laughed as she dodged the object.

"You are ridiculous!" you stick out your tongue and your friend returns the gesture.

"I can't believe something finally happened!" She takes a quick sip of the coffee she was cooling down. "What about Mingyu?"

The man straightens his posture when he hears his own name and frowns, trying to understand where the conversation would lead.

"What about him?"

"He's a little jealous, isn't he?"

"We’re friends. Who have sex from time to time." you shrug. "He knows that, or at least he should."

"And even then he won't make it easy for Wonwoo." Yunjin lets out a little laugh.

"He could stop being annoying and agree to have a threesome with me and Wonwoo, that's for sure."

Yunjin chokes on the dark liquid she was drinking. She wasn't ready to hear that.

Still standing outside, Mingyu takes a deep breath. Your last statement had come as a slight shock. He knew he definitely shouldn't be listening to that conversation, but his feet felt glued to the floor. Because he’s lost in his own thoughts, he misses Yunjin's response. But he comes back to reality in time to hear the end.

"Anyway, he can't do anything about it." you wrinkle your nose. "He could accept it, so everyone has fun."

Mingyu realizes that you and Yunjin could leave at any moment, so he returns to his own table as quickly as possible. He settles into the black leather chair, the information he had just acquired swirling in his mind.

So you wanted to have a threesome with him and Wonwoo? Normally, he wouldn't object if you expressed this desire to him. But it was difficult to say yes when the situation involved Jeon Wonwoo.

Yes, he was jealous.

Mingyu knew you were just friends, but he couldn't help but feel his blood boil when he understood that he was no longer your only focus. He liked having undivided attention.

He could stop being annoying and agree to have a threesome with me and Wonwoo, that's for sure. Your words echo in his head. Mingyu wanted to prove that your judgment was wrong.

The gears in his head began to turn. He had two options: leave that unrequited jealousy aside and surprise you or continue picking on Wonwoo and risk losing what he had. It seemed like an obvious choice.

The sound of Wonwoo's keyboard catches Mingyu's attention. The man looks at the other's profile, who was focused on whatever he’s doing on the computer.

Mingyu thoughtfully rests his face on his hand. He was determined to give you what you wanted, but would Wonwoo be willing to do the same?

He only had one way to know.

"Hey, Jeon." Mingyu calls and the other turns to look at him. "So, I was thinking…"

chapter five

You ring the doorbell at Mingyu's penthouse and sway anxiously from side to side as you wait for the man to open the door. He had invited you over for dinner — according to him, to celebrate your promotion.

I want to know if my new boss can spare a few hours to come over and have a bottle of wine with me. Maybe two, if you’re feeling generous. Mingyu's words echoed in your mind. “Have a bottle of wine” was your code for asking each other to have sex. Of course wine was involved, but it was nowhere near the main attraction of the night.

So you had high expectations.

The huge white wooden door opens, revealing Mingyu. You analyze him from head to toe. He wore a black fishnet tank top, his beefy chest on full display, black swimming shorts and black leather sandals. You bite your lower lip, already feeling your insides begin to stir just from that simple visual stimulation.

"Ah, finally!" he exclaims as he opens the door and you enter the apartment. Mingyu takes your bag — the one that carries your personal belongings to spend the night there — and the black Chanel you carried around every day. "I was about to start drinking your favorite wine without you."

The place was impeccably tidy, as it was every time you visited him. Mingyu was very organized at work, it was no surprise for you to discover that his house followed the same pattern.

"It took me longer than expected to get out of the Tribune." You sigh, exhausted after the day of work. "I'm ready to sink into the hot water of the jacuzzi."

"Let’s go, then."

You climbed the few steps of the staircase that led to the second floor of the penthouse, where Mingyu's huge suite and leisure area were located.

"I'll leave it in the room, can you go ahead open the wine?" Mingyu asks as soon as you reach the last step.

You nod with a smile and head to the bar area. As soon as you turn the wall that limited the room, you realize you’re not alone with Mingyu. Sitting with his back facing you, with a can of beer in his hand, is Jeon Wonwoo.

You freeze in place. What was he doing there? Mingyu and Wonwoo weren't friends. Why was the political journalist sitting on Mingyu’s balcony drinking a cold beer while listening to some hip hop coming from the speakers installed throughout the apartment?

"Do you like your gift?" Mingyu whispers in your ear as he sneaks closer. "I thought you deserved something special, boss."

You shudder at the proximity. Mingyu hugs you from behind, his strong hands flat on your stomach.

"I-I’m not sure if I understand..." you murmur. Your blood’s rushing quickly through your veins, overheating your body. "What kind of joke’s this, Mingyu?"

"There’s no joke, baby." he provokes. His hands played with the hem of the white blouse you wore. "I'm just making a new friend."

You take a deep breath in complete disbelief. Your skin burned with the promise of something you don’t even understand yet. Mingyu was up to something and the target of the trick was you.

"Did you make some kind of stupid bet? Whatever it is, leave me out of it!"

Mingyu lets out a low, amused laugh. He brushes your hair out of the way before placing a quick kiss on the side of your neck, and you instantly relax into his touch.

"Stop being annoying, Y/N. It's not what you're thinking." Mingyu says close to your skin. "And, fyi, I really bet on you. But not in the way you think."

You voice a sound of doubt, not understanding what the hell he was talking about.

He gives you another kiss, this time near your jaw. "Now, how about we drink some wine?"

That’s when you understand the real reason for being there. Mingyu had spoken from the beginning, but you didn’t get it. Using the metaphor you created, he invited you for a threesome with Wonwoo.

"Wine sounds good." you respond softly, feeling your head spin. "Both bottles."

Mingyu pulls you in for a quick kiss, pleased with your response. He caresses your cheek affectionately and you smile before asking "Do you want to start with white or red?"

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・

Your reflection’s slightly blurred. You tie your hair into a high bun and carefully adjust the straps of your bikini. You’re in the bathroom of Mingyu's suite, preparing to go to tbe jacuzzi with the men waiting on the balcony. When you’re satisfied, you open the sliding door and turn off the light before going out.

You stop at the door and lean against the dark wood while analyzing the two men who were talking near the railing. Wonwoo was already shirtless, wearing only white shorts. Mingyu says something that makes the other laugh. The animosity between them was forgotten many glasses of wine ago.

You analyze them both thoroughly. Jeon Wonwoo was the very definition of hot. The defined chest and marked collarbone makes your head dizzy. His abs were defined, but nothing too exaggerated, his arms are strong too. You want to feel the muscles under your palms. Kim Mingyu wasn't left behind. All the hours invested in the gym were worth it. You were used to seeing him naked, but you never stopped feeling your stomach heat up at the sight of his perfect body.

You’re slowly losing sanity, for sure.

"Ready for the jacuzzi, baby?" Mingyu's voice brings you to reality and you feel your cheeks heat up from being caught staring at them.

"Yes, sir." You turn around slowly, showing off your white bikini. "But you don't seem to be." You add, nodding at the lame excuse of a tshirt that Mingyu is still wearing.

"Why don't you help me, then?" He challenges with one of his eyebrows raised.

You shrug and approach him. Mingyu raises his arms and you remove his shirt while smoothing your hand over his toned torso in the process. As soon as he’s free, Mingyu discards the clothing on the lounger next to him. He holds your face with one hand and presses your lips together in a passionate kiss.

Wonwoo watched everything with interest. The wine served perfectly to calm him down and helped him get used to the idea of what you’re going to do, but it didn't stop his heart from beating faster in his chest.

Mingyu wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you closer. With a quiet moan, you allow him to wrap his tongue around yours, kissing you slowly.

Wonwoo approaches and starts kissing your neck, taking advantage of the fact that the area was exposed. You break the kiss to look at him, two sets of eyes burning with lust. Without further ado, you kiss. Wonwoo takes on the task of distributing kisses and caresses over your body. When you’re satisfied, you pull Wonwoo's lower lip between your teeth, ending the kiss.

"Shall we go to the jacuzzi?" You invite them before heading towards the raised area of the balcony.

You climb up the five steps carefully, Wonwoo and Mingyu following. They cross the few meters of the deck and stop at the edge of the jacuzzi. The water bubbled and gentle steam rose from the surface. You sit on the edge and put your feet inside, enjoying the warmth.

"I want champagne." You look at Mingyu, who carried a bucket with a bottle and glasses inside.

"You're very bossy." He jokes, but opens the sparkly drink quickly.

"We're having a celebration in my honor, aren't we?" you roll your eyes as he picks up a glass full of the bubbly liquid. "I can be bossy."

The men laugh at your words. Finally, they enter the jacuzzi and are submerged in the hot water. You stand between them, your left hand — which was holding the glass — resting on the edge.

You sit in silence for a few minutes, just enjoying the view. Mingyu's apartment had the perfect location: no buildings around and a clean view of the river.

Mingyu rests the empty glass on the deck and his eyes lock on you. Without breaking eye contact, he approaches you. His left hand squeezes your right thigh. "I think it's time for you to enjoy your gift." he whispers close to your skin, sending shivers through your body.

You try to kiss Mingyu, but he holds your chin and guides your attention to the other end of the jacuzzi. You stare at Wonwoo. He’s biting his plump lower lip at the scene. Unable to resist for another second, you call the man closer with your index finger and he promptly complies. You kiss Wonwoo as he pulls you onto his lap.

The addition of the hot water with Wonwoo's hands squeezing your waist and Mingyu's hands roaming your body made you feel like your blood is boiling in your veins. It’s the true feeling of a fever that gets higher by the second.

You separate from Wonwoo and give Mingyu a teasing look. He knows the game you’re playing, but he wants to see what you’re doing next. You start distributing kisses across Wonwoo’s jaw and neck, occasionally touching your lips in a tempting way. Wonwoo's big hands are now resting on your hips, tightly griping you when he likes the stimulation.

Mingyu calls you, needing some attention. You shake your head and plant a kiss at the base of Wonwoo's neck, without peeling your eyes off of the other.

"Are you really going to use him to make me jealous?" Mingyu grunts, feeling strangely excited about the situation.

"I don't particularly feel used." Wonwoo chuckled. Mingyu frowns. Of course that idiot would side with you.

"I'll only make you jealous if you're jealous of me, my dear."

"I’m not."

"Great. Then I can pay exclusive attention to him."

Mingyu lets out a low growl and grabs you by the wrist. You try to hold back a laugh.

"Okay. I'm jealous and I want some attention too." he reveals reluctantly. "Happy?"

You tilt your head, a mischievous smile painting your lips. You shuffle around to sit on Mingyu's lap, with one leg on either side of his body. He’s already showing signs of excitement and you let out a contented sigh at the feeling.

"Overjoyed." The kiss you exchange is hungry. You kiss passionately, your tongues caressing each other quickly and possessively. Mingyu looks for the clasp on your bikini and unties the white strings from your back and neck with ease. He pulls the fabric off and throws it anywhere, soon filling his hands with your breasts.

Your snake your left hand to the back of Mingyu's head and lightly pull the strands. With your free hand, you reach out to caress Wonwoo's erection through his shorts.

He closes his eyes and lets out a heavy sigh, happy to be getting some attention too. You brush your fingers across his lower abdomen, teasing him, and Wonwoo catches his breath. You play with the hem of his shorts for a few seconds, making him practically squirm in anticipation. Slowly, you enter the shorts, sliding your fingers gently until you reaches Wonwoo's cock. You wrap your hand around his thick girth and start moving back and forth inside the tight space.

Wanting to see the scene, you move away from Mingyu and fix your gaze on Wonwoo's expressions. His head’s hung back, eyes closed tightly and his slightly open mouth emits low, deep moans.

The water from the bathtub reached his chest, the droplets glistening on his golden skin. Meanwhile, Mingyu starts to guide your hips against his, both of you needing the friction. Suddenly, Wonwoo grabs your wrist, stopping the movements.

"Your turn." Once again, you sit on Wonwoo's lap. This time, you lean your back against his chest. He directs both hands to your breasts and squeeze them eagerly. He plays with your hard nipples between his fingers and kisses your neck, eliciting high pitched sounds of pleasure. You move your hips slowly, teasing his erection. After a while, Wonwoo's right hand continues to pay attention to your breasts while his left one slides down your belly and stops at the hem of your bikini. He pulls the fabric down and you help him remove the last item that’s somehow covering you. You open your legs widely, resting your right foot in the small space between both men, to have more stability.

You feel a third hand touching your thigh. Mingyu caresses your skin with one hand while the other slowly stimulates his hard cock through his shorts. You’re pulled back to Wonwoo when slides a thick finger inside you. Without encountering much difficulty, he fingers you slowly, earning a surprised exclamation in return.

"One more." You demand after a few seconds, thinking that the single digit is not enough.

Wonwoo readily complies and adds another finger, receiving a moan of approval in response. Mingyu lets go of your thigh and his fingers find their way to your clit. He draws small circles and see stars. It’s definitely a unique feeling to have two men in charge of your pleasure.

Not long after, Wonwoo feels you squeeze his fingers, an indication that you’re close to cumming, so he fingers you more vigorously. Your hands hold Wonwoo's biceps tightly and hides your face in his neck, preparing yourself for the explosion that’s coming. Mingyu continues his movements on you and moves closer, connecting his lips to your free breast. It’s the feeling you needed to push you off the cliff.

You shudder, feeling your insides melt and your mind fly thousands of meters away. You faintly hear someone talking, but you can’t make out a word. When you come back down, Wonwoo and Mingyu move away, giving you space to recover. You let go of Wonwoo's arm and small crescent moons are marked in the place where you clawed him without noticing.

"How about we get out of here?" Mingyu proposes and everyone agrees.

The wind outside punishes your naked body. You shudder and try to protect yourself with your arms. Mingyu hugs you from behind and guides both of you to the double lounger. While you get comfortable, the men remove their shorts to be completely naked. You get goosebumps, but that had nothing to do with the turbulent air around you. You let the vision of their naked form burn in your brain, wanting to remember this moment forever.

Mingyu climbs onto the lounger, positioning himself above you before kissing you again. You let him slide between your legs, his dick sliding with easy against your wet pussy. Wonwoo sits next to you and jerks his own cock. Mingyu lets go of you, leaving you wanting more. He stretches his body to the side table and returns with condoms and lubricant in hand. You open your mouth in shock when you realize Mingyu had actually planned this whole moment.

"Are you going to join us or just watch like you did in the archives room?" Mingyu teases Wonwoo, who rolls his eyes.

"If you keep teasing me like that, I'm going to start thinking that you're the one who wanted this threesome." the other sasses and grabs one of the condoms.

Mingyu laughs and turns to you, who’s silently watching everything. He gives the you a reassuring smile, his whole sexy persona fading away for a bit.

"How are we doing this?" you ask and lick your lips, looking forward to the main event.

"Mingyu in the back, me in the front." Wonwoo responds as he gets up from the lounger, already properly protected. "Is that okay with you?"

You nod, either way being completely fine. Mingyu sits in the empty space and slaps his hands on his thighs, inviting you to come closer. Anal sex was nothing new for you two, but you’re a little apprehensive every time.

Mingyu hugs you, placing a tender kiss on your shoulder. He stimulates your clit, hoping it’ll relax you. Soon enough, you feel less tense. "Do you remember our safeword?" Mingyu asks close to your ear, causing goosebumps.

"Tamagotchi."

"Good girl." he whispers and kisses your shoulder again.

Mingyu applies a good amount of lubricant to his cock and to your rim. He positions himself and penetrates carefully, pulling your hips down. He feels the familiar tightness and takes a deep breath, trying hard not to lose control and shove everything in at once. Concentrating on continuing to stimulate your clit, he is soon buried in you to the hilt. You move up and down Mingyu's length a few times, trying to get used to him.

"Your turn." You call Wonwoo when you think you can handle both.

Wonwoo licks his lips and positions himself between yours and Mingyu's legs. He adjusts himself as best he can to have support, staying close to you. You stare at his cock, salivating as you remember the feeling of sucking it. He was thicker than Mingyu, so you couldn't wait to feel him inside you after having sex with just the same guy for so long.

Wonwoo aligns himself with your entrance and slides in. You moan softly as you feel him penetrate and fill you. He proceeds slowly, afraid of hurting you. When he's completely inside, the three of you let out a sigh in unison. The men stand still, waiting for you to authorize them to start moving.

You had never felt so full before. Having Wonwoo and Mingyu inside you at the same time filled you in ways you only dreamed of. But that alone wasn't enough to put out the fire that consumed your veins.

Mingyu and Wonwoo also feel something different. It’s more then the tight fit of your inner walls hugging them. They feel each other through the thin wall that separated both your wholes. They won’t say it out loud, but it’s is slowly driving them insane.

"You can move now."

They begin to move their hips, each at their own pace. In a matter of seconds, they synchronize their pace. Two pairs of hands caress your entire body, leaving a warm trail wherever they touch.

Your bite your lower lip to hold back your loud moans, feeling like you’ll collapse at any second. Mingyu bites your shoulder to contain his own grunting and Wonwoo growls softly close to your ear, making you even more excited. You hands grab Wonwoo’s ass eagerly. They maintain the rhythm for several minutes, their bodies reaching a feverish state.

Mingyu feels like he's getting dangerously close to his peak, but he refuses to let it happen without you getting there first. So he kisses every available inch of skin and slides his hand between Wonwoo and you, once again stimulating your clit.

"Baby, I'm dying here. I need you to cum for us." he pants between moans.

"I’m almost there."

Wonwoo feels his muscles burn with effort, but he speeds up his pace. You bury your face in his neck and grab him tightly. You try to focus on everything that’s happening, on the hands that touch you, on the lips that wander over her neck, on the two men who are trying so hard to give you pleasure. Giving in to the sensations, when you least expected it, fireworks explode behind your eyelids.

For the second time, your body shudder as you let out a long, contented moan. Seeing you reach your orgasm, the men let go and followed behind, the two falling over the edge together. They slow their movements little by little, enjoying the ecstasy. Wonwoo pulls out, complaining about the loss of contact, and throws himself into the empty space next to Mingyu. He uses the last bit of energy to take you off his lap and place you between him and Wonwoo.

The three of you remain practically motionless for several minutes, your legs intertwined, each one enjoying the dopamine that circulating in your veins. When the cold of the night begins to become unbearable, Mingyu takes you in his arms and Wonwoo the glasses of champagne, and you the apartment.

"You were very good for us, baby." Mingyu praises you softly as he carefully places you on the bed. He plants an almost innocent kiss on your lips and heads to the closet looking for something to wear.

Now that things are over, Wonwoo doesn’t quite know how to act. He notices that his backpack is on the table next to the window and walks over to it, taking off a pair of boxers and putting them on so he doesn't feel so exposed.

"Hey, can you get my panties from the white bag?" you ask with a smile and he does as asked.

He hands the light blue cotton panties to you, who slide the fabric over your trembling legs. Mingyu returns wearing leopard print shorts and a Sid Vicious tshirt.

"Now, besides your panties, did you also lose your blouse, Y/N?" Mingyu teases, returning to the role he usually played.

"It’s not lost, you're wearing it." you reply and pull the hem of his tshirt up. Mingyu rolls his eyes, removes the garment by the collar and hands it for you to wear, but not before stealing another kiss from you.

Wonwoo feels uncomfortable watching the scene, as if he's watching something he shouldn't. "Well, I think it's time to go."

"No!" you exclaim and Wonwoo turns around, his face contorted in confusion. "We're going to watch a movie, I want you here too."

"We'll probably sleep within the first fifteen minutes..." Mingyu says with a laugh. "But you can stay and watch everything if you want."

Wonwoo seems to analyze the proposition. "You want me to sleep here?" He pats his hand on the bed, perplexed.

"Your dick was buried in me until fifteen minutes ago, so why can't we sleep in the same bed?" you retort with a shrug and Mingyu stifles a laugh at your words.

You settle in the middle of the bed and pat the free space on your left side while Mingyu walks to the right side. Wonwoo hesitates, but accepts the invitation.

As soon as he settles down, you lay your head on his chest and Wonwoo lets out a satisfied sound. His warm skin warms your cold cheek.

"You put on the bedding I brought." you comment, smoothing out the pink sheets you gave Mingyu a few months ago, after the two of you ruined a set of his.

"This ugly thing was the only clean one." he shrugs.

"It's not ugly!" You whimper and slap the man.

"It’s very ugly." He laughs while smoothing the affected area. The smile never leaves his face.

"It's not ugly, right Wonwoo?"

The man jumps slightly when he hears his name, his eyes staring at the sheet. "It’s cute." he agrees with you, making Mingyu roll his eyes and you giggle.

"Whatever, let's just pick a movie and sleep." Mingyu takes the remote from the bedside table and turns off the lights using the switch next to the bed.

The bright light on the TV shines and Mingyu chooses the movie Divergent, after much insistence from you. Wonwoo pays attention to the beginning of the it and relaxes into a comfortable position to fall asleep. Mingyu doesn't even try to watch, he hugs you from behind and hides his face in your hair. A few minutes later, you also fall asleep, still snuggled comfortably against Wonwoo’s chest. Closing his eyes, Wonwoo allows the exhaustion to take him to dreamland.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・

m.list ♡

tags ꩜ @asscoups17 @wonvsmile @porridgesblog @gaslysainz @thepoopdokyeomtouched @sunset-sana @coupsgfsstuff @stagefrjghts @wonuwonder @pepmiw @walkxthexmoon @cecefarm @nerdycheol @thedensworld

thank you for reading! it made me really happy to see you wanted to be tagged in part 2, so i hope i made you justice 🫂🤍

#mingyu smut #seventeen smut #seventeen fanfic #seventeen hard hours #seventeen scenarios #wonwoo smut #mingyu x reader #wonwoo x reader #minwon smut #wonwoo hard hours #mingyu hard hours #seventeen x reader #my works

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captainfern · 4 months

Text

141Rugby!au [18+]

• Part Five - Perfect •

141 x fem!reader

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•

You've recently started a new job as a physiotherapist for an English Rugby Union team. It's your job to ensure that all the players are in top shape for upcoming games against other strong teams. This job is absolutely perfect for you: good pay, good hours, a fun and exciting atmosphere to be apart of. But there's just one thing you can't seem to understand– the same four players seem to need more attention than the rest.

chapter summary - rugby season is over, and the boys want to thank you for all your hard work lol.

rating - 18+

wordcount - 8.7k

chapter warnings - fem!reader, straight-up porn the slowburn has ignited baby, sharing <3 [4mx1f], unprotected piv, protected anal, oral [f!&m!receiving], m!masturbation, reader goes to paris lmao, voyeurism ig, praise, a lot of pet-names [baby, bonnie, love, sweetheart, etc], hella dirty talk, light overstimulation, multiple orgasms, spitting? cumplay? idk there's a lot of bodily fluids, price has a breeding kink and a sir kink, simon also has a breeding kink what a fucking surprise, gaz is a munch, johnny's just desperately horny, they work as a team but each get possessive in their own ways, um... that's it i think, oh strong language ofc

disclaimer - physiotherapist, or staff x player sexual relations are not allowed in the real world. but please keep in mind this is fanfiction. it's fake. if you have an issue with inappropriate relations with faculty, blurred morals [etc], then please do not read. additionally, reader be fucking in this series. all four. separately, and at once. it's not cheating, i promise. it's consensual sharing <3

see my rugby union introductory for definitions of rugby words

<- part four

hi !! i am very sorry this took so long for me to write for you guys, but thank you so much for your patience and your support. i appreciate it !! and fyi, this has not been edited or anything like that. i’m posting this shit raw lmao. enjoy and thank you for reading <3

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•

It was two weeks after Price had asked if you were free this weekend. You were free, and you met up with the boys for dinner. It was nice, polite, and you really got to know them all a lot better. But, undeniably, the sexual tension was through the roof.

If it had been any other day, you would've gone home with them. But you didn't. You had work bright and early the next day, and you knew for a fact you wouldn't have been able to walk.

But two weeks later, it was the night of the Premiership Rugby Awards. Perfect.

The event itself was almost simply a blur. Kyle and Johnny were both commended for their work on and off the rugby field, and you beamed from your spot at the support staff table, watching them congratulate each other, dressed impeccably in ridiculously attractive suits.

Price was nominated for captain of the year, and was runner-up. Still, his team whooped and cheered for him, and you did the same. You and the other supporting staff clapped and hollered as he received a small award, standing awkwardly on stage. At least he didn't have to speak. Walking back to his table, he caught your eye and smiled, winking as the small glass trophy glinted in the light. He held it aloft for you to see, a subtle gesture that made your tummy flip. You held up a thumbs-up for him.

Then, the award of the night, Player of the Year. Simon was nominated and, hardly any surprises there, he won. You resisted the urge to spring to your feet and join the audience in the rapturous applause as he made his way on stage.

He looked out of his depth as he approached the microphone. But, hey, at least he looked really fucking good in that suit. You sipped casually at your champagne through the entire night and listened to the rich baritone of his voice as he delivered his quick, simple speech. And, towards the end–

"A huge thank you, too, to my team's support staff, and especially our physiotherapist, who should be getting award considering she keeps the lot of us intact and puts up with us on a daily basis."

The crowd laughed at that, and you smiled bashfully. Even from across the room, you could feel Simon's eyes on you. And John's. And Johnny's and Kyle's. You took another swig of your beverage, pressing your thighs together beneath the table.

Oh yeah.

Tonight was the night.

•º•º

Hours later, you and Gaz stumbled through the door of Johnny and Simon's flat together. He had his hands on your waist, his chest glued to your back and his face buried deep into the crook of your neck. You giggled as he wrapped his arms further around you, your hands resting on his forearms as he slowly began sucking a kiss onto the curve of your neck.

Although no one was drunk, you and Gaz were definitely the tipsiest. The small amount of alcohol in your system was enough to flood you full of liquid courage as you squirmed in Gaz's hold, rubbing your arse back onto his very prominent erection in his suit trousers. He groaned into the crook of your neck, his teeth grazing against you, as the three others finally walked through the front door.

Johnny was the first to engage– his eyes lit up in excitement as he kicked his shoes off and hurried over to you and Gaz. You giggled again, smiling at his enthusiasm as he grasped your face in both of his hands and kissed you. You smiled into the kiss– messy with tongue and spit– and enjoyed the warmth of his hands against the side of your head. Gaz had backed himself against the wall, and he continued to suck a line of kisses over your neck as Johnny kissed you.

Simon and Price stood in the doorway, watching the way you were wedged between Johnny and Gaz. They exchanged a look, a knowing glint in their eyes, before they made their move.

Price lit up a cigar as Simon shrugged off his suit jacket, tossing it into the living room and hoping it landed across the couch. He was left in his white, form-fitting dress shirt. He began rolling up the sleeves as Price exhaled a puff of smoke into the air.

Johnny was still kissing you like his life depended on it, but one of his hands had travelled south, slowly beginning to peel away the straps of your dress. They fell down your shoulders, and Gaz helped push it down your arm, all the way until your breasts spilled out the front. Johnny broke the kiss and moaned loudly, his hands immediately shooting upwards to cup you, twisting your nipples between his thumb and forefinger. You whined, arching against Gaz, whose hands travelled down your stomach and pushed your dress down at the same time.

Your dress dropped, pooling around your ankles, leaving you in just your underwear. You heard all four boys react in different ways to the almost dramatic reveal of your body– a subtle hitch of the breath from Simon and Price, and two very desperate whimpers from Gaz and Johnny.

Wordlessly, Gaz's hands skimmed lower. They passed gently over the soft mound of your tummy, rubbing gently just above the hemline of your underwear. He was less than a second away from pushing his fingertips inside when Simon approached; a looming shadow over the three of you intwined against the wall.

Gaz looked up, his mouth still pressed hot against the bare curve of your neck and shoulder. His lips glistened with saliva, and so did your skin. Johnny looked at Simon too, his hands still cupping both of your tits.

"Not here," Simon said softly. "Come on lads, be gentleman. Let's take our girl to bed."

You whined when Johnny stepped away, the warmth on your tits vanishing with him, your nipples hardening against the cool air in the flat. Even the warmth of Gaz disappeared too– he peeled himself away from you with one last cheeky kiss to the spot just below your ear. For a brief moment, you were alone– until Simon's hands were suddenly gripping the back of your thighs and he was hoisting you into his arms.

You yelped, arms circling the broad expanse of his shoulders as he held you to his chest, your nipples catching against the buttons of his dress shirt as you squirmed against him. You squirmed for two reasons: one being because of the shock of him carrying you; and two, the fact he was happily groping the soft flesh of your thighs as he began to climb the stairs.

"S'alright, pretty girl, I've got you," Simon murmured in your ear before kissing your cheek. With impressive strength– the strength that won him Player Of The Year– he carried you effortlessly to the top of the stairs, and then carried you all the way to what was presumably his bedroom. When he entered, Gaz, Johnny and Price weren't far behind, and he settled you gently on the edge of his bed. With one hand, he gently cupped your face. "You okay, doc? S'this what you want? All of us?"

You were nodding before he even finished his sentence, looking between the men in front of you with glimmering eyes. Of course this is what you wanted. This is what you have wanted for the past several months.

"If at any point you want us to stop, jus' say rugby," Simon said, a sternness in his tone that had your cunt leaking in your underwear. "We'll stop, okay? Promise me, doc. Promise us."

"I promise," you squeaked out. "I promise."

"Good girl..." Price uttered, leaning down from next to Simon and kissing you on the forehead. He stepped away before you could pull him into a proper kiss.

Instead, you reached up and pinched your fingers around one of the buttons on Simon's shirt, beginning to unbutton it. He chuckled lowly, his hand leaving your face to grab hold of your wrist.

"Not yet, love," he said softly, his tone putting you at ease as butterflies began filling your stomach. "We've got this all planned out, okay? You'll have me soon, but Gaz n' Johnny are gonna make you feel good first. Is that okay?"

His words, searching for your consent, made you whimper. You nodded, of course, whining a yes please as Simon stepped away. Your eyes found Gaz, who was already walking towards you, and you couldn't help but giggle when he got close and slotted his mouth to yours.

Gaz kissed you deeply, his tongue breaching the seam of your lips and licking against yours as his hands came to rest on your hips. With a little force, he pushed you up the bed– still kissing you– and lay you down on your back. Your hands found his shoulders– now bare of his suit– and your fingers flexed down the smooth planes of muscle. He groaned into your mouth, pulling back and dragging his lips down the curve of your jaw, beginning to suck even more kisses to the sensitive expanse of your throat.

"Such a pretty girl, bonnie..." Johnny approached, the bed sinking to his weight as he crawled alongside you. Immediately, he slipped his hands between you and Gaz and began pawing at your tits, rolling your nipples with the pads of his thumbs. Like Gaz, he had somehow stripped to his briefs between Simon putting you down onto the bed, and now. The hard imprint of his cock against his black underwear had you moaning, arching against Gaz– your clothed cunt rocking against his erection, making you moan even harder.

Johnny kissed you again as Gaz worked on peppering your entire body with kisses. He was now slapping Johnny's hands away from your tits so that he could take one into his mouth, swirling his tongue around you. Johnny broke the kiss with a saliva-soaked "th'fuck?" and a light frown. Gaz looked up at him challengingly as he pressed his tongue hot to your nipple– pulling a little whimper from you– and Johnny accepted his challenging stare. The Scot slinked down your body, not wasting any time with extra kisses– instead, he attached his mouth directly to your other breast, his teeth nipping the soft flesh.

Across the room, Simon and Price watched. They were a bit older, a bit more experienced, and had a bit more patience then the two players pinning you to the mattress currently. Although, Simon could feel his patience wearing thin. Your moans and whimpers were heavenly, and you looked absolutely stunning. He felt his cock twitching in his trousers, and kept his palm pressing heavily against it.

Price eyed his teammate and then offered him a puff of his cigar while Gaz and Johnny sucked and kissed your chest, their hands beginning to explore your almost naked body.

Simon accepted the cigar and took a long drag. Price huffed, smiling coyly when Simon returned the cigar. "Patience, Simon." It was said in a whisper, and Simon's response was a grunt and a subtle roll of his eyes. Yeah, he can be patient. Sure.

"Gaz, Johnny, fuck–" You whimpered, one of your hands cupping both Gaz and Johnny's heads. Gaz blinked up at you and was the first to detach his mouth, lips still shining with his saliva.

He moved down your body as Johnny continued his sucking– he had moved back to your neck, nipping at your collarbone now. Gaz settled himself between your legs, rubbing your thighs softly before hooking his fingers into the waistband of your underwear. He searched your eyes for permission and when he found it, when you nodded and mouthed a desperate please, he carefully pulled your underwear down.

Instead of tossing them across the room like he usually would have done, he looked to his side and held them aloft, gesturing at the two men sitting on the couch in the corner of Simon's room.

Simon nodded, and snatched them up after Gaz threw them. His cock twitched in his trousers, painfully hard against the seams, as he felt the sheer dampness of your underwear and the expensive fabric against his hand. God, he wanted to wrap it around his cock and paint it white.

Gaz moaned loudly as he spread your legs, exposing your cunt to the shadowed lighting of Simon's room. Price and Simon's eyes were between your legs from across the room, and Price withheld a grunt in his throat, almost choking around an exhale of grey smoke. Like Simon, he left his cock twitching and straining in the confines of his trousers. There was a mutual competition that whoever gave in first and fucked their fist lost. There weren't any particular stakes. Not yet, anyway.

"Just as pretty as I remember," Gaz breathed, massaging your inner thighs. He watched slick dribble out of you and down the curve of your arse with a vulpine smile.

Above him, Johnny removed his mouth from your neck and you could feel how damp your skin was now. You wanted to turn your head to look at him, but you couldn't take your eyes off of Gaz.

The winger kneaded your thighs gently, massaging his fingers into the soft fat as he spread you out for him. His eyes, gleaming with excitement, were transfixed on the way your cunt fluttered, your swollen clit glistening between your folds. You watched him run the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip before he leaned in and placed a gentle kiss to your pussy.

You gasped, chest heaving, eyes still on Gaz when he placed another kiss against you, as though he was kissing your cheek. His eyelashes fluttered and a deep moan rumbled from his chest. Quickly, he deepened the kiss until he was licking the point of his tongue through your folds and his nose was pressed flush to your clit.

"Oh, fuck–" you whimpered. Memories of the way Gaz ate you out last time flooded you, making your body heat up. He was so fucking good.

He looked up at you from between your legs, soft brown eyes staring into yours. They were still gleaming, crinkled at the edges as though he was smiling– smiling into your soaked cunt as he dragged his tongue through your folds and licked up as much of your arousal as he could. Cheeky little–

A hand grabbed your jaw and forced your head to the side. You parted your lips to gasp, but the sound was sucked from your mouth as Johnny smashed his mouth to yours.

He held your face firmly, whining loudly into the kiss as he licked his tongue against yours. His other hand was dipping into his briefs and pulling his achingly hard cock out. He fisted it, whining loudly again, and you couldn't help but smile.

Clearly, Simon found it amusing too.

"Gettin' desperate, are we, Johnny?" He mocked from across the room.

Johnny broke the kiss, panting against your mouth as he jerked his cock, his hand still holding your head in place. He whined softly when his fingertips ghosted the underside of his cockhead, and he breathed deeply in an attempt to bite back at Simon's remark.

"S'not fair..." He whined again, sounding more and more like a wounded puppy, or something else along those lines. "She's got such a pretty mouth an' s'not bein' used properly."

He kissed you deeply again, all spit and teeth and tongue. It was hard to keep up, the way Johnny was invading your space. Your brain was foggy, body on fire, only thinking about the men around you and, especially, the fact you were about to come.

You moaned into Johnny's mouth– both Price and Simon moaning in response as they palmed at their clothed hard-ons– as Gaz sucked your clit into his mouth. He swirled his tongue around the puffy bud, his top teeth just skimming it, before he was quickly dragging his mouth just that little bit lower so that he could stuff your leaking hole. He pushed his tongue in with a light moan, grinding his hips into the mattress as he did so. Your taste, your smell, your noises, everything was making him harder.

You managed to turn your head away from Johnny's mouth. He huffed, leaning his forehead against your temple, mouthing at your cheek and jaw with light puffs eliciting from his saliva-slick lips. He was still jerking himself off, his cock leaking pre-cum onto Simon's sheets.

"Kyle..." You moaned the winger's government name. "M'gonna– oh my god, oh my god–"

Gaz kept the thrusting of his tongue steady, humming against you as your legs shook within his grasp.

Johnny, the desperate man he was, pulled your mouth back to his, licking a stripe over your lips before muttering, "That's a good girl, bonnie. Come for us. Come n' then I'll– I'll stuff this pret– fuck, pretty mouth with my– ah– my cock." After uttering that against your lips, he was shoving his tongue back into your mouth.

Then, you came for the first time of the night.

The coil in your lower belly snapped and you moaned loudly against Johnny, back arching off of Simon's mattress as Gaz held your hips and thighs, pinning them as he licked you through your orgasm. His eyes were on you the entire time, watching as you unravelled while he licked up your release which dripped out of you and down his chin.

When Gaz pulled away, Johnny was manhandling you onto your hands and knees. You yelped, still fuzzy from your orgasm, as the Scot pulled you into position where your head was resting on one of his hairy thighs, your arse in the air.

"Need you," he muttered, pawing at the back of your neck while he stroked his cock and guided it towards your mouth. "Need you so fuckin' bad–"

"Slow down, Johnny." Simon growled from across the room.

Gaz laughed as he got up, not bothering to wipe the rivulets of your arousal that tracked down his chin and, now, down the column of his neck. He rolled his shoulders, easing the tension from laying on his front, before shucking down his briefs and shuffling back onto the bed.

"He's been waiting a long time for this, Simon," Gaz joked in the number eight's direction. "He knows our girl's been worth the wait."

Simon grunted, Price's cigar now between his lips. "Still doesn't mean he can throw her around like that."

"Simon–" Johnny gasped from the head of the bed. He was dragging the leaking, reddened tip of his cock against your lips, smearing his pre-cum over his saliva which already wet you. He looked over at his teammate. "Shut the fuck up."

Simon scowled. "Watch it–"

But Johnny wasn't listening anymore. Not when he eased his cock past your lips and into the warm, wet heat of your mouth. He moaned, really fucking loudly, as you hollowed your cheeks for him and took him further back in your throat. You withheld a gag, tears blotting the base of your vision as Johnny's cock nudged the back of your throat.

"JesusfuckingChrist," The Scot hissed, the hand on the back of your neck tightening so he could pull you closer towards him. Your nose rested in the coarse hair at the base of your cock, and you moaned quietly, eyes upwards and locked onto his. You could already feel him twitching in your mouth as you gently bobbed your head, a trickle of saliva being forced out from the corner of your mouth.

Meanwhile, Gaz was gripping his cock tightly at the base, his other hand squishing and squeezing at the fat of your arse and thighs. He was muttering something to himself, something you couldn't hear, but whatever it was made Soap chuckle above you.

"F'you like her arse so much, use it," Johnny joked, and you whined, your core fluttering.

Behind you, Gaz stopped muttering beneath his breath and released a breathy laugh, his hand holding one of your arsecheeks and pulling it gently to the side. "I'll need to stretch her out first..."

"We've got all night," Soap remarked, thrusting his hips and making you gag around him. A tear rolled down your cheek and you hummed out a whine at the way both of them were talking about you as if you weren't even there.

You couldn't see it, but Gaz smiled. He then vanished from behind you for a moment, before returning, popping the cap on the small bottle of lube and pouring a generous amount over two of his fingers. He then spread you again, pouring even more of the cool liquid directly onto your hole. And, for good measure, he let a glob of spit fall from his mouth and slide down your crack.

You moaned loudly around Johnny's cock as one of Kyle's fingers pressed against your hole, rubbing circles carefully while his other hand reached between your legs to rub a finger over your puffy clit. You moaned again, and the vibrations had Johnny whimpering quietly above you, hips bucking, the grip he had on the back of your neck tightening.

"Such a pretty mouth, such a pretty mouth," he chanted through his whining, eyes screwed shut and head tossed back as he continued to push and pull your head down his length.

Across the room, the sounds of your muffled moans and Johnny's whines, paired with the sight of Gaz spreading you open before him was enough– enough for him to hastily pull his cock out of his trousers and wrap it in your soaked underwear. He jerked his fist once, twice, three times before stopping, glancing over at Price who simply shook his head, chuckling.

"Soap," Price said after he had finished giving Simon an amused look. "Let our girl breath, yeah? Give her a break."

Your eyes rolled and you moaned loudly– not at Price's words, but at the feeling of Gaz pushing a thick finger into your arse, gently probing and stretching you open. You wondered if the light buzz of alcohol in your veins was making the sensations a whole lot more enjoyable.

Johnny whined. "But–"

"Pull your fuckin' cock out, Johnny," Simon hissed, resuming his hand movements, your underwear still wrapped around his dick.

Johnny whined once more, but pulled out like his captain and teammate said. He continued to hold the back of your neck, petting you gently as he slid his cock out of your mouth, strings of saliva connecting your lips and his shaft. He moaned at the sight, tempted to shove it back into the warmth of your mouth– but the burning sensation of Simon's eyes on him made him pause.

"This better fuckin' mean I get to fill her cunt," he grumbled, much to your amusement. You smiled up at him, and he smiled back, moving his other hand to cradle the side of your head.

Price grunted, and you broke eye contact with the scrum-half to look over at him and Simon on the couch. He too was pulling his hard cock out of his trousers and fisting it in his hand. The sheer size of the both of them made your core heat up all over again, butterflies returning to your stomach.

After a short moment, Gaz had two fingers inside you, scissoring you open while Johnny pet your face, staring down at you as you mouthed gently at his cock. You ran the tip of your tongue along the prominent vein on the underside, causing his entire body to wrack with shudders.

"Ready?" Gaz asked Soap, and the Scot looked away from you in the first time in about five minutes.

He nodded eagerly, a grin splitting across his face as he slid his hands beneath your armpits and hoisted you up onto your knees. You yelped, the action unexpected, and the sudden loss of Gaz's fingers from inside you making you feel empty, almost hollow. But, as Gaz split open a condom and rolled it onto his length, Soap's hands were all over you, and not once did you feel empty again.

"You alright, bonnie?" He asked, hands gripping your knees and spreading your legs apart so he could slot himself between them, his cock rutting through the folds of your pussy.

You momentarily lost your train of thought, your mouth dropping open and a small "uh..." dripping from it.

Price exhaled a plume of smoke around his words as he spoke to you. "Use your words, darling. S'alright if you want to stop."

Forcing your muddled mind away from the feeling of Soap's warm cock, you looked over at Simon and Price and shook your head, uttering out a string of "no, no, no."

"M'fine," you added for good measure. "Please don't stop."

As long as they had the green light, the lads weren't going to stop. Gaz had a large hand across one of your arsecheeks, holding it to the side as he guided the head of his cock to your stretched hole. Johnny waited patiently, his cockhead rubbing cruel circles against your swollen clit, not quite enough to give you proper stimulation. But, it was a pleasant distraction– a distraction from the initial stretch of Gaz carefully pushing his cock into you. Slow, slow, slow.

You released a shuddered gasp, head dropping forward to rest on Johnny's shoulder. Breathing laboured, you panted against his dewy skin as Gaz stopped, pulled out a centimetre, then pushed back in– over and over until his hips were wedged up right against your backside and he was dipping his mouth into the crook of your neck, breathing in your perfume.

"Good girl, baby..." He whispered, pressing a kiss to the pulse below your ear. "This okay?"

You nodded. "Yeah... it's okay."

"Tell me when you want me to move."

"Now," you said almost immediately, mind fuzzing over with pleasure. The pleasure of feeling full and hot and sweaty and completely fucked out. "Please move, Kyle, fuck–"

He did. He pulled out and pushed back in, ebbing like the tide with gentle thrusts that knocked the air out of your lungs. You cried out his name, head no longer resting on Johnny's shoulder, but leaning back against Gaz's.

Johnny couldn't wait any longer. The tip of his cock soon aligned with your leaking cunt, and he was pushing in just as Gaz pushed in as well. Both me released a guttural groan, their cock's only separated by a thin wall inside you.

But the noise you made was nothing short of pornographic– a high-pitched, breathy whine that was punched from the depth of your stomach. Your entire body fizzled, tingling with pleasure as both men used you at the same time, thrusting in and out at the same time. The intensity of it all had tears running down your cheeks, your chest tightening between breaths.

Soap's voice broke around a whimper. "You're so damn tight."

Gaz was next to speak. "Can't believe... can't believe we went so long without having you, eh, doc?"

The way they were talking to you was driving you crazy. Hell, the way they were moving against you was driving you crazy. You couldn't believe you went so long without letting them have you, either.

"Doing such a good job for Johnny and Kyle, sweetheart," Simon said, which you only heard vaguely, like an echo in a dark room. "Looking so fuckin' pretty taking both of their cocks. Doesn't she, lads?"

"Fuck, yeah–" Johnny moaned, not really listening, his eyes attached to the way his cock pistoned in and out of you.

Gaz was the same. Distracted. Too busy sucking wet kisses along the side of your neck. Too busy trying not to come straight away, the tight walls of your hole milking his cock with each upwards thrust. He did leave his trance-like state for a short period of time, enough to praise you and say your name in a breathless moan.

"Our good girl, doc. Y'just our good girl," he breathed against you. "Fuck– knew you'd be good. We just knew you'd be perfect."

That sentence alone had your stomach tightening with your next orgasm, thighs trembling and sweat building between your bodies. For a split second, you wondered what your electrolyte levels would be after this (the thought was wiped from your head when the head of Johnny's cock slammed up against your g-spot, making you mewl).

You struggled to keep your eyes open as your climax neared. Your senses were going into hyperdrive– the smells, the sounds, the everything was making you drunker than the alcohol you had already consumed earlier that night.

The smells of Soap and Gaz, their sweat and cologne, was like an aphrodisiac as they pinned you between their bodies, moving in tandem. The sounds of Johnny's moans and whimpers, and Gaz's breathless whines and grunts were driving you insane– as were the quiet groans coming from the couch across the room.

"Gaz... Johnny..." You mewled, body hot, clit throbbing. "I..."

You couldn't finish your sentence. Luckily, you didn't have too.

"Gonna come?" It was Price who put the words out into the open. "You gonna come, pretty girl? Go on. Tell 'em."

You repeated the first two words Price had said, following them with desperate moans of both Johnny and Kyle's names. Johnny's hands tightened on yours, slamming up into you while Kyle's were smoothing up and down your abdomen, hips grinding into your backside. The sensations threw you over the edge.

You came hard– both men caught off guard by the way your body tightened around them. Your head dropped back against Gaz's shoulder, and he kissed your cheek.

"Holy fuck," Johnny cursed, breathless. His chest was heaving, forehead glistening in a thin layer of sweat, and a slight tinge of red to his cheeks. Your cunt fluttered around the girth of him, all wet and warm and tight, causing his thrusts to falter, stutter, before he was coming inside you with no warning. "Holy fuck."

You whimpered, energy being sapped from your body at the feeling of him coming inside you while you were still coming down from your high. You could feel his cock twitching as he emptied himself up against your cervix, but you were distracted from the simple movement when he leaned forward and slotted his mouth against yours.

Soap kissed you exactly how he'd kissed you at the beginning of the night. Still full of passion and longing as the warm mass of his tongue swept over yours, slicking over the tops of your teeth. One of his hands found the back of your neck once more, and he held you to him while you kissed– all the while Gaz continued to rut gently into you, his own orgasm nearing.

"Baby, m'gonna pull out..." Gaz whispered into your ear, one of his hands kneading the flesh of your arse. "M'gonna pull out, take this fuckin' condom off, and come where you want me to come, m'kay?"

You forced your way out of Soap's searing kiss, turning your head so you could nod your acknowledgment to the winger behind you (luckily for you, he began kissing down your chest instead). Gaz did as he said and pulled out. He did so slowly, his hands rubbing your arse and hips the entire time. When his cock left you, you released a little whine, cool air seeming to fill you and make you shiver.

"You're okay, you're okay..." Gaz reappeared behind you after pulling his condom off, tying it and tossing it somewhere in the room (Simon had shot him a dirty look for that). One of his hands was on your hip again, his body melting into yours, his chest to your back. You could feel him fisting his cock behind you, the leaking tip smearing pre across the small of your back.

"Where d'you want me?" He asked you softly, and for a moment, it just felt as though you and him were the only ones in the room. If it wasn't for Soap sucking on your tits like a fucking maniac, the private intimacy between you and Kyle would've been believable.

To answer, you wiggled your hips against him, mumbling something along the lines of on me while trying to grab a fistful of Soap's mohawk and pull him away so you could arch forward. The Scot was stubborn, though, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth with a sparkle in his eyes.

Simon helped you out.

"Johnny, don't fuckin' push it," he growled and that was the first time you had heard him speak in a while.

You looked over to him, finding that he was still languidly fisting his cock; the tip red and angry, leaking pearl after pearl of precum. He was edging himself. Your stomach flipped with arousal, pussy fluttering.

Johnny backed off like a kicked dog, pouting as he shuffled to the edge of the bed. Gaz smiled, winking at his Scottish teammate as he placed a hand to the small of your back and guided you onto your knees and elbows, creating a perfect arch in your back and a perfect view of your arse for him. Then, he quickened the pace of his wrist, stroking his cock for a few seconds before he was painting your arse white.

Like Soap, Gaz moaned loudly when he came. The sound dissolved into a low whine as he fucked his fist through it, not stopping until he ran dry and his cock only just softened beneath his grip.

A few moments passed before you flattened yourself across the bed, laying on your stomach with exhaustion rolling over your body in waves. Johnny was the first to up and leave, placing a kiss to the crown of your head before he was moving across the room. Gaz stayed with you, his hands rubbing soothingly up and down your back.

"Doing so well for us," he told you. "D'you need anything? Water?"

You nodded and mere seconds later, Johnny was offering you a glass of cold water. You sat up to drink it, Gaz's cum smearing against Simon's sheets. You were hyperaware of Soap's cum dripping out of you and onto the sheets too. It made goosebumps bloom up your arms and legs, a shiver crawling through you.

Once you had drunken, the lads switched places like they had been practising.

Johnny and Gaz slipped away with one more kiss each to your lips, before two larger, broader figures were blocking your vision. Both Price and Simon had stripped now, all big chests and soft stomachs and hard cocks. It made you salivate.

"Just a bit longer, sweetheart, then you can have a nice break," Price cooed, walking up to the edge of the bed and placing his hand beneath your chin, gripping your jaw and angling your eyes up to him. While he did that, Simon slipped onto the bed behind you, the mattress dipping under his weight, and slotted himself up against you. Price squeezed your jaw once. "You feeling okay?"

You nodded, but something inside you prompted you to respond with a sultry "Yes, sir" while you stared up at him. A coy smile split along his face and before long, he was leaning down to kiss you. He tasted of smoke and expensive liquor as he kissed you, his tongue immediately invading your mouth.

"You want her first?" Simon asked, and you jolted in fright, almost forgetting he was right behind you.

John broke the kiss and, still holding your jaw, looked over at Simon and shook his head.

"You can go first."

The arrangement was set.

Simon pulled you away from John, and you couldn't help but yelp at the way he manhandled you onto your stomach. Then, he grabbed your hips and pulled you back onto your knees, your breasts and arms resting against the bed. The captain had crawled onto the bed and, after tossing aside Simon's pillows, settled himself at the head of the bed, leaning against the headboard. He spread his legs, patting one of his thick thighs invitingly.

Simon acted for you– pushing you up the bed and pushing another startled yelp from you. Your head came to rest against the warm, solid mass of Price's thigh, and his hand was put to work atop your head, petting you as though you were a cat.

Behind you, the number eight was nudging your legs apart with his knee, his large body doubling over yours as he slotted his hips against your arse, his achingly hard cock brushing over your soaked folds. You keened, moaning lightly as the tip of his cock nudged your clit, the thick weight of him smearing your and Johnny's cum up and down your slit. It made you shiver again.

"You don't have to do anything, okay, sweetheart?" Price uttered above you, still petting your head. His other hand gripped the base of his cock tightly. You watched a dribble of precum leak down the underside of it. "You're just going to lay there and be a good girl for me and Simon, okay? Be a good girl and take everything we give you."

At the completion of the captain's sentence, Simon notched the head of his cock at your hole. Your breath hitched.

Price cooed down at you. "S'alright... that's a good girl, just take it."

Simon eased into you, his cock splitting you open more than Soap's had. He was a bit thicker, and the stretch of it all had a moan catching in your throat. It stayed there until Simon bottomed out– the sound filtering from your mouth sounding like something out of a low-budget porno (it made Price's cock twitch, though).

"Fuck," you heard Simon hiss behind you. "S'a tight fuckin' pussy."

"Told you."

"Shut the fuck up, Johnny." Simon almost growled as he pulled out and then slammed back into you.

You cried out, sobbing a "S-Simon!" as his pace increased, his thrusts hitting deeper and deeper each time. You could feel the ruddy tip of him hitting the plug of your cervix, his girth stretching you open in such a way that you wondered whether you'd be able to walk tomorrow.

Probably not.

You realised both Gaz and Soap were sitting on the couch, and without even turning your head, you knew they'd be watching with their cock in hand. The intensity of the entire situation was otherworldly, and most definitely contributing to the fast rate at which your orgasm was approaching.

The sound of Ghost's cock moving in and out of you was lewd and wet. Wet shlick, shlick, shlick's and the slapping sound of skin-on-skin echoed throughout Simon's room, as well as the occasional creak of the bedframe and the hushed sounds of pleasure coming from the couch.

Bent over you, Simon was huffing and grunting. Deep groans left his parted lips periodically as he fought off his orgasm. God, the second he shoved his cock into the tight clutch of your cunt he wanted to come. But not yet. Not fucking yet.

"S'that feelin' good, pretty girl?" He asked you, his voice swimming through your head.

"Yes–!" You cried, one hand holding Price's wrist (his hand was still on your head), the other fisting the bedsheets beside Price's other leg.

"Yeah? You like being fucked by all four of us, hm? Like being stuffed full, don't you?" He didn't let you answer. He continued, "O'course you do, baby. 'Course you do. Such a needy little pussy... She just loves gettin' filled up, I can feel it."

Words evaded you. So you nodded. You nodded against Price's thigh, tears smearing against his hairy skin. He petted you gently, shushing you as Simon continued to rut into you, his entire body shaking with restraint. He needed you to come first.

"Want you to come for me," Simon whispered to you. "Want you to come all over my cock."

Then, one of his hands found your clit, and you were a goner. He rubbed three rough shapes across the swollen bud, and you were coming with his name falling from your lips.

You squeezed him tight, gushing around him as pleasure overtook you. The entire time you spasmed, your cunt leaking out around his cock, John held you against the mass of his thigh, petting you and massaging down your neck. You heard the odd "good girl" being whispered from him.

Simon praised you in similar fashion. "Good girl. Good fucking girl. My good girl."

The last part was whispered so quietly that you were sure no one else heard it but you. He said it as he curled over you, his chin against your shoulder, his massive arms holding himself over you as he fucked you hard.

"My perfect girl," he whispered again. Only to you. Then, it was like something went off in his brain. He released a low growl, something like a groan but much deeper. "M'gonna come."

"S'about fuckin' time," John joked, but Simon didn't find it at all funny. He ignored his captain.

His attention was only on you.

"M'gonna come right up in here, love." Simon held himself up with one arm, his other arm winding beneath you to grab hold of your tummy. He gripped it, kneading it, before pushing against it until you let out a small moan, the pressure making you dizzy. "M'gonna fill this pretty tummy right up. Fuckin' breed you right in front of the boys."

You were definitely drooling against Price's thigh.

With one last grinding thrust– and just as overstimulation crept into your head– Simon came. He came with a grunt and a quiet moan of your name, his cock right up against your womb as he emptied himself, filling you hot.

The heat made you moan, as well as the image of his cum mixing with Soap's and filling your womb.

What the hell–

The number eight didn't pull out straight away. He stilled above you, hips flush to your arse and his half-hard cock still plugging his cum inside you. Against Price's thigh, you mewled tiredly, shuffling your backside against the solid form of Simon behind you, your hands now travelling along the captain's legs.

Finally, Simon extracted his body from yours, but remained inside you. He kneeled, his large hands travelling down your back before finding your arse. He chuckled to himself, dragging his fingers through Gaz's load that painted you. With his pointer finger, he drew a smeared SR against your left arsecheek.

"Simon, gross," You complained, listening to the way he chuckled darkly to himself. You couldn't see him from your angle, but you knew he was probably grinning too.

Just like in the small period of grace between Soap and Gaz, and Simon and Price, you were offered water, with each man waiting patiently until you had finished the glass. While you drank, the four pairs of eyes on you made your stomach tighten.

This was all so foreign. But, god, you fucking loved it.

When the glass of water was placed soundly on the bedside table, Price slid down from the top of the bed and kneeled towards the end. He held out a hand to you, and you accepted, enabling him to gently lay you down with your head in the pillows (Simon had ordered Soap to pick them off the floor from when Price tossed them).

"Comfortable?" Price asked you, running his warm hands up and down your sides before slowly, slowly parting your legs and exposing your cunt to him.

You nodded. "Yes, sir."

He huffed proudly at that, a small smile surfacing. His hands shifted, and he brushed his knuckles along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

Beside you, the bed dipped. Simon kneeled on the floor next to the bed, his upper body leaning against the mattress. It was the perfect angle to cradle your face in his hands and wipe the steadily drying streaks of tears and saliva from your skin with his fingers.

Fingers, you realised, had not been cleaned. Fingers that still trekked a milky stripe of Gaz over your face.

You grimaced, and by the way Ghost was biting his lip to hide a smile, he knew what the grimace was for.

"S'a matter, pretty girl? S'just a bit a'cum," he teased lowly, and you had half the mind to smack his hand away. But his next words had you forgiving the action– the cheeky bastard. "Look so pretty covered in us, don't you?"

Kneeling between your legs, Price grunted his agreement with his teammate. He was fisting his cock, watching Simon and Soap's loads dribble out of you.

Pushing his hips forward, he slowly ran the head of his cock up your slit, making a mess of you. You whined, hands holding one of Simon's, as Price repeated the action a couple of times, eyes transfixed.

When Price's eyes did finally find yours, they were glazed, his pupils blown.

"Beg for it, sweetheart," he uttered, voice hoarse. "Beg for my cock."

You did. You started with a few desperate please's and several different curse words when you struggled to find the right things to say. But eventually, with your heart hammering against your ribcage and your clit pulsing in tandem with it, you begged out a yearning, "Please, sir, please– need your cock so bad. Please, captain–"

The captain hummed, pleased, as he thrusted himself into you without another warning. You cried out, arching off the bed as your cunt stretched around him, the tip of him knocking up against the plug of your womb just like Simon's had. It all felt so good you wanted to cry.

"That's it..." Simon whispered to you, nuzzling the side of your head as Price set his pace.

He held your legs either side of him as he fucked you, shunting your body against the mattress again and again. You'd already fucked him before, in his car just a couple of week ago, but this was different. So much different.

It's like he had something to prove. Maybe it was because his teammates, his closest friends, were watching, but he fucked you like he owned you. His thrusts were deep and driving and hit the perfect spot inside you each time. His hands on your legs were firm but gentle, and the way his eyes raked hungrily up your body were claiming enough.

His fingers dipped down to your arse momentarily as he shifted your hips, changing the angle so he could fuck you deeper. He looked over at Simon for a split second and nodded towards one of the pillows. The number eight got the hint, reaching over your head to grab one of his pillows. While he did that, unbeknownst to both you and Simon, Price's fingers wiped the sticky SR from your skin.

Once he had the pillow, Price shoved the pillow beneath you to keep your hips at the perfect angle. This way, he could continue to fuck his cock deeper and deeper into you, and still continue to worship your body with your hands.

But, he was closer than he would've liked to admit. He could feel, with each thrust, and each tightening of your slick, warm walls, his orgasm looming closer and close. That familiar coiling heat in his lower belly.

"C'mon, sweet girl, need you to come," he said breathlessly, then proceeded to push your legs upwards, bending your knees towards your ears. "Need you to come 'round my cock."

"M'close..." You whined, and the change in angle was pulling you tighter, sweat sticking you to the sheets below. But your body was exhausted, shaking and trembling and filled with honey-like pleasure that had your joints feeling heavy. "John, I don't... fuck, I can't–"

"Yes you can, sweetheart, yes you can," Price whispered, leaning down to kiss you. It was a sweet kiss, his facial hair tickling the warm skin of your cheeks and chin. When he pulled away, he placed a few more kisses to your nose, your cheeks and your jaw. "Just one more time for me. C'mon. One more time for your captain."

Well, when he put it that way...

It was like he had trained you, Pavlov's dog style. Your body jerked and you arched up against him, the same time the band of pleasure in your lower abdomen snapped.

"John!" You almost screamed, your orgasm hitting you like a tidal wave. Warmth seeped into your body, flooding your veins as you came around his cock, spasming and fluttering. You were dizzy, euphoria blinding you as he fucked you through it, Simon's hands on your head keeping you grounded.

Your release gushed around John, and he groaned at the way you drenched his pubic hair. The sounds of him moving in and out of you too were too much for him to handle.

(And too much for Soap and Gaz to handle, who spilled over their fists with loud moans from where they were sitting on the couch).

Price desperately wanted to praise you as his girl, a possessive my girl spoken into the universe. But, as captain, he knew better. As much as it did pain him to say, he croaked out a, "That's our girl."

You whined and whimpered, your body thoroughly fucked-out. As much as you enjoyed this, you felt as though you wouldn't be walking for the next few days, and would probably sleep for the next thirty-six hours.

"John, sir..."

"I know, sweetheart, I know, m'coming," he muttered, thrusts beginning to falter. "M'gonna come deep in this tight little pussy. Yeah... fill her up real good."

First Simon, now John? Damn. The personification of your pussy was not what you expected to get out of this tonight. But you weren't complaining.

The captain came, moaning your name loudly into the room. With a gentle hand splayed across your belly, he emptied himself inside you alongside two of his teammates'. The feeling of it never ceased to make his mouth drop open in pleasure.

Simon kissed your temple. "Alright, pretty girl?"

You nodded. "Yeah... more than alright."

•º•º•

You should have known that all four men would be absolute kings at aftercare. It was pure bliss.

Johnny popped into Simon's bathroom to run you a bath while Simon cradled you in his arms, not letting you feel an ounce of loneliness. He had dragged you over to the couch, hugging you to his broad chest and watching as Gaz stripped the bed and made quick work of changing the sheets. Price entered the room with a fresh glass of water and a small bowl of your favourite sweets (you didn't question why Johnny and Simon had them in their flat in the first place).

You sipped your water and snacked on the sugary food for a little while, Ghost's hands rubbing up and down your back. Before long, Johnny reappeared and helped his teammate in guiding you towards the bathroom.

There was a slight argument between who was going to get into the bath with you, but ultimately Gaz one, and Simon begrudgingly handed you over to him. The pair of you sunk into the warm water, and you immediately melted back into him.

"Did such a good job for us, doc..." Gaz whispered in your ear, massaging your thighs and hips from where you were nestled in front of him between his legs.

Simon, who was lurking over the bath like some sort of spectre, nodded. "Such a good girl."

The praise made your body heat up, the steam curling up from the water suddenly scolding.

In the doorway, Johnny watched on with his phone in his hand. He asked you, "D'you want me to order some food?"

You nodded. "Can we please get–?"

He was already walking away. "I know your order, bonnie!"

You made a face at Simon. He shrugged.

Price, like Simon, stood at the edge of the bathtub. He looked down at you with adoration in his eyes

"You're just perfect, aren't you, sweetheart?" He said, and Simon and Gaz were agreeing with him before the sentence even registered in your head. You smiled at him. He smiled back. "Our perfect girl, hm?"

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•

#141rugby!au #call of duty smut #141 x reader #captain john price smut #price cod #simon ghost riley smut #ghost cod #johnny soap mactavish smut #soap cod #kyle gaz garrick smut #gaz cod #call of duty #141 x you #captainfern

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queenshelby · 3 months

Text

OSCAR SPECIAL (PART ONE OF FOUR)

Given Cillian’s recent success, I decided to jump ahead a little in my fics and give you a little Oscar Special. But don’t worry, I will cover off everything in between in due course and, for some fics, this Oscar part will hopefully get you guessing, while for others it will constitute a happy ending!

Our Dirty Little Secret (Special Part)

Nine months later…

"I don't know why I agreed to this," you told Cillian while clutching his hand just as the car pulled up in front of the red carpet. This was your first public outing with Cillian since the scandal about your illicit affair had broken just over nine months ago and whilst you had found your way together, society did not exactly approve of your somewhat controversial relationship with the 47-year-old.

"It'll be fine. You need to trust me," he whispered in your ear confidently, as if it were just another date night for you and not the greatest gathering of Hollywood's glitterati. Deep down, you wanted to believe him but it was obvious to you that he had put on act, just for you, to calm your nerves. He hated these events just as much as you did and knew how hard it was for you to adapt to this lifestyle with him.

"I should have stayed with Mara, Cillian. I never left her for so long, you know," you then tried to change the topic, talking about the daughter you had brought into this world together just under nine months ago, but Cillian simply chuckled.

"Mara will be fine with my mum, at the hotel. I promise," Cillian assured you with a loving smile. "Despite, I really need you with me tonight," he paused, gently squeezing your hand. "I couldn't imagine being here without you, Y/N," he then finally told you as one of the red-carpet attendees opened the door for you both.

"Don't you dare run off on me," you gasped, seeing all those intimidating photographers taking pictures of you both as he helped you out of the car, your white dress grazing the asphalt.

"I would never," he chuckled, playfully winking at you, as you bit back a smile, realizing that you were too easily flustered.

He then took your hand into his firmly, clearly showing the world that you belonged together and not a single soul would change that.

"Cillian, over here!" a reporter yelled out while, another, shorter woman with fiery hair, aggressively jumped in to get a good shot of you both. The molten sea of cameras around you ignited a varied assortment of insecurities you forgot you ever had. Suddenly, you were a ten-year-old girl again, your heart dancing under its master's feet set ablaze by judgement; but Cillian squeezed your hand gently, reminding you that you were a woman now—his woman.

A familiar warmth spread through your chest as his steely blue eyes fixated on yours. A silently brokered promise passed between you two: Survive this together.

The female reporter from earlier pushed her way to the front, locking her beady gaze onto Cillian with a voracious hunger.

"Cillian, how does it feel to be nominated as Best Actor for your performance in Oppenheimer?" she asked while you tried to back off a little, but Cillian would not leave you alone, holding you closer to him, showing the world that you both were together in this.

"It's a true honor to be nominated. I couldn't be more grateful. The cast, the crew, everyone really poured their hearts into the story, and I wouldn't be here without them. It was something unique and powerful," he responded, barely looking at the woman, but at you instead, trying to keep his focus.

"And I see you are being supported by your wonderful, young girlfriend tonight, making this your first public outing together. Is that right?" the reporter asked, curiosity sparking excitement in her voice as she studied you two intently.

"Well, we do have a young child together, which makes it difficult for us to attend events like this as a couple," Cillian began to say while smiling at you intently. "But, especially tonight, I couldn't ask for more than her presence," he admitted, his voice dripping with sincerity as he gazed at you openly.

The intensity of his gaze made your stomach flutter: It was a look that held secrets, a silent vow. You squeezed his hand tighter now and were unable to keep the smile from growing on your lips.

Cillian then stroked the back of your hand with his thumb, causing you to disconnect from the chaotic dance unfolding before your eyes and connect to the feeling of being near him, a feeling that cantered and calmed you.

"Thank you Cillian, and good luck tonight," the reporter finally offered a soft smile before signalling to her photographer to take some more pictures.

As you walked down the red carpet, a familiar pop song began to infiltrate your eardrums as you ignored the snippets of questions being hurled at both of you, creating a barrier between your world and theirs. Even with the nest of hundreds of reporters and photographers, the red carpet no longer scared you as it used to, especially when you had Cillian by your side, shielding you from the worst of it all.

Eventually, you both reached your seats, not too far from the front of the stage and Cillian introduced you to some of the actors and actresses he had worked with. You also met some familiar faces, like Emily Blunt and her husband John who both had a calming presence about themselves.

The tension seemed to melt away as you chatted with them and, for a moment, you managed to forget all the critical eyes resting on you, fading into the background until it was time to be quiet for the opening speech.

As the ceremony commenced, you merely held hands with Cillian, giving his reassurance every time he gave yours. Despite the constant whispers and sly glances coming your way, you tried to embody Cillian's mantra, staying present in this moment and focusing on his unwavering companionship instead of the judgement weighing you down. For hours on end, you managed to simply enjoy the show and, when finally, it was his turn to shine, you clutched his hand even tighter.

"And the Oscar goes to," the presenter announced, opening the golden envelope while, secretly you had been crossing your fingers for him all week long. "Cillian Murphy!" he then announced, making a-thousand-cameras flash simultaneously as your heart began to race uncontrollably against your ribcage. It was a strange feeling, this overwhelming sense of pride that flooded you, leaving you bruised and raw from the exposure.

Standing up simultaneously with Cillian, a big smile formed on your face as, quickly you caressed his face. "You did it!" you whispered to Cillian, hugging him almost desperately as he embraced you back, tightly. He then kissed the top of your head, taking a moment to soak in the gravity of his achievement as the crowd around cheered and clapped for him.

"Fuck," he gasped, still in shock, before stagehands began urging him to come forward and take his spot to accept the coveted award.

"Go on and give your speech," you chuckled, gently pushing him towards the stage while blinking away the tears threatening to mess up your makeup and, just before he took to the stage, he turned his head quickly to capture your lips for a fleeting second, leaving an imprint of adoration behind.

With shaking hands, he mounted the steps, greeted by rousing applause, and you leaned against the back of your chair, watching his every move as he accepted his award.

"Fuck," was the first word that escaped his lips, causing the audience to laugh in response and his actor's instinct kicked in as he used his impromptu curse to deliver an exquisite speech that brought a tear to your eye.

"I am clearly overwhelmed by all this. Thank you. Truly," he spoke, his voice shaky. "I first and foremost want to thank Chris Nolan and Emma Thomas for having faith in me and creating such a masterpiece. To the incredible cast, Robert, Emily, and the rest, thank you for teaching me so much about the craft. I can't believe I get to share a title with such incredible artists," Cillian said before his eyes drifted in your direction, a small smile pulling at the corner of his lips. "And, of course, I want to thank my beautiful partner Y/N for supporting me through this in those last few months. You have pretty much been a single mother in the midst of award season, and I am so grateful that you are here with me tonight. To you, our daughter Mara and my son Max, I love you beyond words," Cillian said, his voice heavy with emotion, and it was then that your vision blurred with unshed tears.

He then proudly lifted his award into the air before humbly walking back to his seat, stealing a glance at you long enough to let you know exactly what he meant.

"I am so proud of you," you whispered as he squeezed your hand again while, around you, murmurs originated from fellow celebrities congratulating him on his well-deserved win.

"This means a lot to me Y/N. Thank you for having been my rock those past few months," Cillian whispered back, his gratitude evident in the warmth of his touch. The intensity of his words caused your heart to flutter unexpectedly and, suddenly, everything around you became distant and muted.

Not too keen to attend the after party even following his success, when the show drew to an end, Cillian engaged in the necessary press engagements before suggesting that the two of you slipped away before everyone made their way to Vanity Fair.

Together, you crept out into the night unnoticed, weaving your way through indulging crowds, gazing at each other, lost in all the nuances of the day that had unfolded—all the stolen glances between you both during the award ceremony, to the brush of his fingertips against your hand while trying to lead you through the venous crowds.

Eventually then, you arrived back at the hotel where Cillian's mother was watching Mara. She was already eagerly waiting your arrival and, as soon as Cillian walked through the door with the golden statute in his hand, his mother embraced him tightly.

"I am so incredibly proud of you," she beamed while gripping his face, hardly believing her eyes. "Now you've got it all, a beautiful family and the biggest achievement of your career," she remarked, wiping a tear from her eye while looking at you and Mara.

"Thank you mum, and thank you for looking after Mara for us tonight," Cillian expressed graciously, managing a weak smile as he hugged her again.

Mara then squealed with delight, screaming, "Dada!" and you both looked at each other with great surprise.

"Did she just say daddy?" you gasped. You couldn't help but be utterly taken aback, finding yourself at a loss for words as you clutched Mara in your arms and buried your face in the nape of her neck.

It was the first time she had spoken and as you held her tightly, you couldn't help but feel a surge of love that coursed through your veins, rendering you dizzy.

You glanced up at Cillian as he stood there, flabbergasted.

"Dada!" she said again, reaching out for the golden statute jutting out from Cillian's grasp. He chuckled and carefully placed it away before picking Mara up and pressing a kiss to her chubby cheek.

"Hello Babygirl," he said, laughter dancing in his eyes, and the love in that moment was palpable between them, radiating with a warmth that touched your heart. "I missed you," he then said and your eyes welled up a little. It was moments like this that made you rethink the decisions you made several months ago and you knew that it was time for you to make another now.

"I think maybe it is time for us to move in together now," you proposed to Cillian suddenly, as he looked at you with a gentle smile.

"It seems like two wins for me tonight then," he replied, taking your hand in his as Mara gurgled contentedly between you. He had waited for you to make this call for months now, ever since he first proposed it to you and now it was finally here.

To be continued...

Tags:

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#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy fic #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy fanfic

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tyongf-nct · 5 months

Note

hi!! can i request poly! nomin where jeno and jaemin are already a couple and they realize how much they like reader, with fluff and smut?

this is like 29572939 years too late but here you go 😔🫶

also not proof read v well

dyanamic: poly!nomin x fem!reader

warnings/tags: poly lee jeno x na jaemin x fem!reader, fluff, smut, oral (fem receiving), fingering (fem receiving), frottage, member x member interaction

“Do you think she’d want that? To join in? Be with us?” Jaemin asked Jeno as the two sat next to one another on the small couch.

“I think she feels the same as us. The best we can do is speak truthfully and ask for her honest reply,” Jeno said quietly. Jaemin nodded his agreement and the pair now sat across from you the very next day.

“We have a proposition for you,” Jeno started. You looked at him and Jaemin expectantly, the sight of both beautiful men with their undivided attention on you sending delightful shivers down your spine.

“We were wondering if you felt the same as us…if you had the same feelings for us as we do you,” Jeno continued. You felt your jaw loosen, excitement stirring in your belly. Could it be? Did they really share romantic feelings towards you, as you did them?

“We like you. To be clear, we like each other—we’re together. But we also like you. You’ve been such a strong presence in our life for so long now, as such a close friend. And lately, Jeno and I have started to develop feelings for you. Romantic ones,” Jaemin explained. The excitement bubbled up within you, a tiny smile pulling up the corners of your lips.

“You…you truly feel this way?” You asked hesitantly.

They both nodded, soft and cautious looks on their faces. You felt a breath of relief whoosh out of you.

“That’s—that’s so wonderful. I feel the same way. You both are so important to me, and I was upset with myself for these feelings at first. I tried to ignore them,” you said, watching the two with careful eyes as they looked fondly, and a little sadly, as you spoke.

“But eventually I accepted them. I thought, since the two of you were together, I would always keep it to myself. But hearing this…I’m so happy,” you smile. Jeno and Jaemin grin broadly, the three of you coming together to hug.

Weeks later, after many thoughtful conversations and experimental sessions of cuddling, kissing, and spending time close to one another, you agree on boundaries and decide to try a different level of intimacy. The air is tenser, now, as the three of you lay on the large bed in varying states of undress. Jeno was lazily kidding down your abdomen as Jaemin sat beside him, running his nimble fingers over the two of you, goosebumps in his wake.

“I can’t wait to taste you,” Jeno whispered, ripping a hard shudder from your body. His pink lips made contact with your core, kissing at its peak once before licking a long stripe up the center. Your back arches in need as he takes his time to eat you so well. Your core becomes more slick as he licks and sucks, saliva gathering and dripping down onto the sheets.

Jaemin leans in to kiss Jeno’s neck, his right hand moving to grip Jeno through his boxers. Jeno groans against you, the vibration pulling a pitched moan from your chest as Jaemin palms Jeno to hardness through the fabric. Your eyes want to squeeze shut in pleasure, but you fight to watch the scene in front of you. After a few sloppy movements, Jaemin manages to free both himself and Jeno from their lower restraints, tugging on their hard lengths as Jeno feasts upon you.

Breathy moans and muffled groans echo across the room as the three of you find pleasure in one another. Warmth blooms in your chest at the two beautiful young men with you, the three of you joined in the most intimate way. As your orgasm builds in your center, Jeno licks, sucks, and nips at you with increasing fervor. Finally, you come with your legs quivering, small, sweet moans escaping you as Jeno and Jaemin watch you come undone.

After a couple of beats, you look down to see two red, pulsating cocks slick with precome. Jaemin still has the two in hand, and he rushes to push Jeno down on the bed next to you. He leans down, sliding his desperate cock against Jeno’s and both men groan loudly once the heads brush against one another. You feel your chest rising and falling faster as the hot image of Jeno and Jaemin seeking pleasure from each other unfolds before you. Your center is still slick and pulsates deliciously as you watch. Jaemin keeps the semi fast pace grinding against Jeno as he snakes one hand over between your legs, soft fingers sliding down your folds until a single digit slips in.

“Oh fuck,” you whisper, loving the drag as he pumps his finger in and out. Jeno reaches his hands around Jaemin’s waist and grips his ass tightly, pushing their cocks together and riding the rhythm. Jaemin leans down and alternates kissing the both of you, spit trailing from his lips as he consumes you and Jeno with increasing intensity. Another finger is added, then a third only a minute later.

Jeno is the first to spill, cursing as he reaches his peak and fucks up against Jaemin’s cock. The slide of come makes the frottage easier, and Jaemin follows suit soon after. His movements inside you falter as he thrusts passionately, moaning both of your names and shooting warm, white come across Jeno’s abdomen. You watch with rapt attention, not ready for a second orgasm but enjoying the feeling of Jaemin’s fingers against your walls nonetheless.

After a moment or two more, Jaemin slides his fingers out, licking the juices with a sneaky grin as you chuckle lightheartedly. Jeno pulls you against him, Jaemin falling to your other side and sandwiching you in between the both of them, mess and all. Your heart beats with a warm glow of happiness as you take in their scents, comfortable and at ease.

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ventismacchiato · 1 year

Text

38 just playing the part — making it big !

scaramouche x g!n reader

ACT FOUR

⇢ ˗ˏˋ time skip of four years ࿐ྂ

˗ˏˋ headcanons ´ˎ˗

✰ you and scara graduated two years ago at the top of your university, as expected, and have been in the industry for two years since then; age 23

✰ you’ve been dating for almost five years, since your sophomore year in college, and it’s been just as sweet as the first day you kissed him

✰ the deal was that scaramouche needed to land a major role in his first year or else he’d be forced to go to business school by his mother. miss lisa hooked you both up with jean, a well known manager, and you both snuck into the industry easily

✰ it started off with you two playing side characters in different shows and wasn’t until you both landed a movie together as both MCs that everyone’s eyes landed on you

✰ fans fell in love with your chemistry on screen and good looks to match, shipping your characters and even you two off set

✰ you send him tiktok edits of himself all the time like he’s so hot you can’t help it and fans always expose him when they catch him liking edits of you as well

✰ jean had advised you to keep your relationship a secret in the beginning just as precaution. when you both got nominated for best upcoming actors was when you kissed on stage and broke the internet and soft launched it. you guys started working more shows and movies together because directors loved that your chemistry was genuine

✰ scara preferred to do horror related projects, he had a liking for all the gore and excitement. (ex: all of us are dead, sweet home, scream) but he got cast in a lot of romance after going public with your relationship since you both became the youngest it couple…he doesn’t mind since it’s with you but put the man in some horror pls!

✰ ei never attended any premieres or events until two years later when her company’s clothes were featured in a movie premiere and she and scara reconciled but its still a bit awkward

✰ she did meet you though and offered you a model contract, scara had to drag you away from her

✰ miss lisa attends every single premiere you guys have and you both always send her vip tickets, she’s so so proud of you two

✰ you guys did move in together but are rarely home since you always have to travel for work

✰ you guys are engaged!! 💍

✰ you both got your friends to help with the proposal and when they found out you guys planned it on the same day they let you guys both propose to eachother. he pulled out the ring first which caused you to laugh and pull out yours

✰ working as an actor means you both travel a lot, so there’s not much time to plan a wedding. you guys are waiting to land a role in a nice scenic country you both like where your friends can fly in to have a small wedding 🤞

˗ˏˋ headcanons ´ˎ˗

✰ xiaoaether were the first couple to get married, they tied knot the moment they were out of college. you were part of aether’s groom party and scara was a part of xiao’s

✰ aether used his degree for a year, traveling and doing cartography work and posted travel vlogs with his sister to keep his friends updated and for xiao while they were apart. an agency reached out and scouted him to be a model so he eventually quit his former job to become one

✰ xiao completed his comp sci degree but enjoys being a dancer more, used his minor to become a backup dancer for idols and eventually gets promoted to becoming a choreographer. started off as venti’s backup dancer

✰ xiao goes viral every other week as that one sexy backup dancer

✰ xiao makes more than enough being an idol choreographer so aether could be a house husband if he really wanted but he likes to work as a model since it lets him travel

✰ they have two cats, a black and white one cus pets are better than kids 🪦

˗ˏˋ headcanons ´ˎ˗

✰ heizou opened a detective agency out of graduation and became top detective in the country

✰ kazuha submitted a song he produced and wrote with venti with his application and now works at Windblume with him

✰ writes half his lyrics about his love for heizou like he’s that type of bf

✰ kazuha hasn’t proposed yet because of his and heizou’s insane work schedules and he’s trying to perfect the way he’s going to do it. it’s hard to plan a secret proposal when your boyfriend is a renowned detective !!

✰ it’s the reason every surprise party kazuha has tried to throw fails miserably, heizou always finds out…

✰ kazuha has a following cus he’s sexy and everyone goes crazy over how sweet he is to heizou. he isn’t an idol but people still go crazy for him.

✰ sometimes he does livestreams and heizou will pop up and kazuha will go full heart eyes

✰ ‘kazuha being down bad for ten minutes’ compilations

✰ heizou sends edits of kazuha that fans make to kazu every morning and comments the most unhinged things on all of them he just like me fr

˗ˏˋ headcanons ´ˎ˗

✰ as promised, childe takes over the family company as ceo. his father was a more strict ceo so the employees were happy to work for someone so cheerful

✰ childe and kaeya both wanted a grand wedding and that’s exactly what they did, hosting it a few months after xiaoae’s wedding

✰ kaeya beat childe to proposing though

✰ kaeya doesn’t have to work a day in his life if he honestly doesn’t want to due to how much childe makes and that’s exactly what he does

✰ childe sponsors half the movies you and scara act in because he can and loves to see scara happy and the director always has him in a shot, usually someone doing a handstand in the background but childe loves it

✰ childe went viral after being on the top ten hottest ceo lists and after people found out he was besties with scaramouche

✰ scara does shout him out in a speech during an award show, thanking him for pushing him out of his comfort zone and childe starts bawling; it becomes a meme

˗ˏˋ headcanons ´ˎ˗

✰ albedo came out as venti’s partner on accident after he was spotted in a livestream and venti forgot to turn the camera off before he kissed albedo

✰ the fans went crazy cus albedo is sexy and now they have someone else to thirst over too

✰ albedo goes on to become a biochemist like he planned but he also paints all of venti’s album art in his free time. secretly owns a fan account to post venti fanart

✰ albedo asexual cus that’s hot

✰ yes that’s him and venti in the header me n who

✰ venti is his muse and he’s venti’s muse

✰ venti gets scouted and becomes a popular soloist idol and has the busiest work schedule along with you and scara

✰ xiao choreographs most of his stages and is one of his frequent backup dancers, he drives xiao insane most of the time

✰ has the best music fr and goes viral every other day, drinks on lives and always had a new dating rumor going on before ppl found out about albedo; his pr team is in shambles

✰ does soundtracks for most of the movies and shows you and scara are in and everyone loves how you guys are actually friends aside from working with each other #goals

✰ also not married, mainly because venti is way too busy so they’re probably the last couple in the group to tie the knot

˗ˏˋ headcanons ´ˎ˗

✰ lumine gets scouted by the same company as aether because they both had the same major and did vlogs together

✰ tries to host get togethers for the gang at least once a month and they usually manage to succeed

✰ got married a week after xiaoae, they were best friends to lovers fr like everyone knew it would eventually happen and yes everyone had a bet

✰ hu tao becomes an autopsy technician like she studied for and opens a clinic

✰ we love a women in stem #steminist

✰ lumine has to live with the taxidermy hu tao insists on purchasing as decor for their home …

✰ the only couple that actually doesn’t have to do long distance as frequently because lumine refuses to travel so she can stay with hu tao

✰ wlw goals fr

just playing the part !

masterlist — prev | next

synopsis: you and scaramouche are both drama majors and have been at each other’s throats vying for the same lead roles since high school. but when you’re both cast as each other’s love interest in your second year you’re forced to be civil with your academic rival and see him in a new light. are his feelings for you true or is he just playing the part?

author’s notes: hope you guys liked it this is my brainrot for everyone in the future and i had a final today while i was sick it was HELL COLLEGE IS A SCAM

taglist—CLOSED: @monochromaticelliot @kaedear @stxrgxzxr @shirmxie @elakari @lacy-lady @linn-a-a @one-offmind @kithewanderingme @quepasoash @leathernourishingshoepolish @mangobee @lxry-chxn @dameofthorns @kunihaver @kythe1a @elysiasbae @hikaru-exe @tokkishouse @raiihoshii @cherrybeomgyu @kunikuzushiit @thenightsflower @lilneps @goodthingimsam @lovelyiez @euhla @beriiov @abvolat @kittycasie @b0bafl0wer @bubblyclouds @atlatcaheart @artssleepy @baelloraa @tartagli-yuh @satowaluverr @hangesextra @scaranaris-lil-niko @caffinatedcoma @wheneverthesunrise @hajimeseyo @itsyourgirlria @hyunrei @redactedhimbo @caliginous-skies @vinskyspuff @miissfortune @criminalinthemaking @scaramouches-girlfriend @scrmgf [1/3]

#genshin impact #genshin fluff #genshin imagines #genshin impact fics #genshin impact smau #genshin impact scaramouche #scaramouche x reader smau #scaramouche x gender neutral reader #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x oc #kunikuzushi smau #kunikuzushi x you #kunikuzushi x reader #kunikuzushi #wanderer gi #wanderer genshin x reader #just playing the part smau

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andscene-if · 4 months

Note

I was wondering if you could spare some facts about our dear parents👀

the parents have actually been very open about their lives to MC and their sister , so here's their story!

mom:

she grew up performing in small shows, school plays etc

she's from the countryside (you can choose which country or state!), so her parents would spend a lot of time driving her to different auditions all across the country

once she hit mid teens, gigs started to dry up, & with no money, her parents weren't able to fund the travels and such, so her dreams unfortunately came to a halt

didn't go to college after hs, and instead started waitressing while attending castings on the side

dad:

just like MC's mother, he got into acting at a young age

landed a commercially successful main role in a teen flick at 16 and subsequently dropped out of school (regrets it). unfortunately that seemed to be his only successful role for the next 5 years that followed

during those 5 yrs, he worked at his dad's garage & well it was pretty miserable for him

for his 21st, he didn't really celebrate, he simply got into his car, and drove w/o a destination in mind, until dawn. he then pulled up into the small restaurant Mom was working at

aaaannd that's where those two met. they immediately hit it off & Dad started eating out so much, he essentially became a regular. but when he was only 22 & Mom 23 she got pregnant with MC's sister.

it was tough, they were very terrified and also kind of excited, but the timing couldn't be any worse: Mom had just convinced Dad to take another chance on acting and she was also landing a lot more roles.

after a lot of talking, they decided to put their plans on hold for 2 yrs. but then those turned into 3, 4, 5... and 9 yrs later, they were a little family of 4 w MC being 1, & their sister 9

that's when things finally started changing. one night, after tucking the kids in, Mom & Dad kinda just had this epiphany: it's now or never! so the next two months, they got everything ready, emptied all their savings etc and boarded a plane to LA

things were very difficult at first, especially if they're from a different country, but with the already pre-existing connections that they had, they were able to get their foot into places it would've been a lot harder to do w/o. Mom actually decided to stay at home with the kids, while Dad went off driving to every single casting he could get his hands on.

about a year later, just when their savings were about to run out, Dad, at age 32, landed a main role in a small-budget sci-fi that would eventually go on to be one of the highest-grossing films of the year (nobody expected this). he got nominated for a Lumina award (didn't win), and things only went up from here. Mom made her film debut once MC entered kindergarten, and they've been dominating cinema screens ever since!

thanks for 1k btw!! :)

#ask #mc's family #mc

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waltermis · 6 months

Text

The Oscars

MASTERLIST ↠ SINGER!READER UNIVERSE

Summary: It’s time for the Oscars

Warnings: swearing, most likely inaccurate stuff about the Oscars… I tried to collect as much information as possible, but it is entirely likely that I messed the whole thing up.

Pairings: Scarlett Johansson x fem!reader (romantic), Scarlett x Lorelai Philips (platonic), Scarlett x Quinn Jones (platonic).

A/N: Happy birthday, Scarlett ❤️❤️

↠↠↠

Scarlett sighed nervously as she watched the people around her bustle and hustle in her hotel room, attempting to get her ready for the Oscars. She silently hoped that she would be nominated for at least one award but never voiced her thoughts out loud, not wanting to be disappointed if she didn’t get nominated. Looking around her busy room, she really wished that you could’ve been here.

You’ve been on tour for over a year now and the last time she was able to physically see and feel you in person was 7 months ago when you performed for 3 nights in Atlanta. She had a couple of reshoots for Black Widow there, and when you had told her that you would be having a concert there, she instantly bought tickets to see you perform. She bought tickets for all 3 nights, singing/screaming the words to the songs until her voice was raspy and on the verge of going away. She bought tickets for your brothers, your dad, and the rest of her family to go with her, to support you. She had so much fun watching you sing and dance; seeing you have fun with your dancers and backup singers on stage had her so mesmerized. And watching the way you interacted with your fans, she really understood why you loved them so much.

She gasped lightly, getting pulled away from her thoughts when her hairstylist accidentally tugged too hard on her hair. “I’m so sorry, Ms. Johansson.” Quinn apologized quickly.

“It’s okay,” she reassured. “And how long have you been my hairstylist?”

“6 years-ish, give or take,”

“And how many times have I told you to call me Scarlett?”

“Too many to count,” they said, sheepishly.

“Exactly, so are you going to start calling me Scarlett?”

“It’s very unlikely,” the two of them laughed at that. “Are you excited for tonight?” they asked.

“Yeah,” Scarlett replied, “I think it’ll be really fun,” she smiled while they added the finishing touches to her hair.

“And done.” they said, showing her hair in the mirror.

“I love it, thank you.”

“You’re welcome, now go get your dress on. ‘Cause I’m pretty sure Lorelai’s head is gonna explode.”

Scarlett looked over at her manager, who was standing in the corner talking on her phone, and Quinn was right, Lorelai looked beyond stressed. “She looks like a headless chicken.” she said, grinning.

Quinn burst out laughing, which caught Lorelai’s attention. “Shit shit shit, go to the bedroom now!!” They pushed her off the makeup chair. She quickly ran into the bedroom and put on her dress. Looking at herself, she smiled softly. God did she wish that you were here right now.

She decided to pull out her phone and give you a call. The phone rang for a couple seconds before your voicemail came on. “Hi, this is Y/N; I am currently not available at the moment. Please leave a message after the beep and I’ll try to get back to you as soon as I can.” Scarlett smiled at the sound of your bubbly voice.

Beeeeeep

“Hi baby, I was just calling because I missed you. I’m just about ready to leave for the awards tonight and I wanted to hear your voice. Call me back tonight when you’re free? I love you.” She hung up.

“Scarlett!! Are you ready?” Lorelai asked, a little panicked, knocking excessively on the door.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

In the car, Scarlett pulled out her phone and began to watch reels of you singing during your tour on Instagram. She honestly couldn’t be more proud of you, she knew you always wanted to be a singer, but that dream didn’t solidify until you first sang in the first Pitch Perfect movie. She saw how hard you worked for this, and knew that you deserved every single round of applause you got after each song you’d sing.

↠↠↠

Scarlett stepped out of her car, putting on a practiced smile for the cameras. She looked at the paparazzi and her fans who were screaming and crying out her name. She got her picture taken and was led to the section where interviews were taking place. She did a couple of them, she even had one with her co-star and friend, Florence Pugh.

Soon, Lorelai was ushering her off to the next part. Scarlett smiled as she greeted Cole Walliser; he was the one in charge of the GlamBOTs; the camera that moves extremely quickly but the footage taken is in slow motion. After he instructed her on what she should be doing, Scarlett did her iconic over the shoulder pose into the camera and smiled happily. The speed of the camera startled her for a moment, but she was quick to regain her bearings. She thanked him again, and then joined her manager in one of the more secluded areas as an usher led them into the building.

Scarlett smiled softly in thanks at the attendant who led her and Lorelai to their seats. Getting inside the building took quite a bit of time; with the amount of celebrities showing up in it was bound to get crazy. She sighed, gently wiping her hands on her dress. “You nervous?” Lorelai whispered quietly.

“Little bit,”

“Don’t be,”

“I kinda wish Y/N was here…”

“I know,”

“Not that I don’t love your company.” Scarlett amended quickly, “I just– I just miss her. I mean, I haven’t seen the woman in 7 months!”

“I know that too,”

“And I know that she’d be able to calm me down in a second if she were here. I know that she wouldn’t care if she won an award tonight, cause she’d think that all the other nominees deserved it better.”

“That sounds like Y/N,” Lorelai laughed. “Now before you can go into a spiral right now, do you think you’re gonna win tonight?”

“Maybe…? I mean there’s so many other people to consider before me,”

“Hey, don’t sell yourself short. I know you, and knowing you, I know you’ll get a nomination, I’m sure of it.”

Scarlett smiled a genuine smile at Lorelai, “Thank you,”. Lorelai winked at her, before the night began.

Scarlett smiled brightly as each nomination was announced. She had to admit, even if you weren’t here, she was having a nice time. Her heart had skipped a beat when she heard Taika Waitit’s name get called when ‘Jojo Rabbit’ won Best Adapted Screenplay. She quickly stood him and congratulated him, sharing a moment of joy before he went on stage. “He deserves this,” Lorelai said, watching as Taika started his speech.

“He really does, this was one of the best scripts I’ve ever read.”

“I know…. I saw the movie.”

Scarlett scrunched her eyebrows together. “Hey, do you know why you have an empty seat beside you?”

“I don’t know, maybe someone wasn’t able to show up?” Lorelai guessed.

“Probably, I wonder who couldn’t make it.”

↠↠↠

“How’re you feeling?” Lorelai asked, a little bit later. They were now watching the little clips put together for the award of Best Documentary Feature.

“The nerves are still there but I’m good.”

“Good,” Lorelai smirked, she had a strange look in her eyes as they began clapping as the winner was announced. Scarlett gave her a suspicious look but paid her no mind as she listened to the speeches.

Soon enough, Mahershala Ali came out to present the award for Best Supporting Actress. Scarlett held her breath, squeezing Lorelai’s hand lightly as her heart beat out of her chest.

Mahershala began his speech. “Most every actress and actor I know wants to build a lasting body of work choosing roles that do more than just speak to them personally, but with the hope of their performance will resonate with others. The five women nominated Best Supporting Actress have done just that.”

The short clips of multiple different movies began, starting with Laura Dern in Marriage Story. Then she saw herself as Rosie Betzler in ‘Jojo Rabbit’ play on the screen. She sighed happily, feeling exhilarated that she was nominated. She smiled even harder when she saw Florence was also nominated. “Here are the nominees for performance by an actress in the supporting role.” He paused, “Kathy Bates, Richard Jewell. Laura Dern, Marriage Story. Scarlett Johansson, Jojo Rabbit. Florence Pugh, Little Women. Margot Robbie, Bombshell.”

“And, the Oscar goes to……. Scarlett Johansson, Jojo Rabbit.” Everyone in the crowd cheered as Scarlett stayed frozen in her seat. It wasn’t until Lorelai nudged her lightly did she realize that she had really won. Hugging a couple of friends quickly, Scarlett headed up onto the stage, smiling bashfully as everyone continued to clap. “Congratulations,” Mahershala said, giving her a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Thank you,” she smiled, taking the award as he handed it to her. She walked up to the microphone set up in the middle of the stage, standing in front of everyone beaming proudly when the crowd began to clap even harder.

Suddenly, Scarlett felt two arms wrap around her waist from behind. She spun around quickly, alarmed. She was fully prepared to scream out when she stared into a pair of eyes she’s longed to see in person for the past 7 months. “Oh my god,” she whispered, her words barely audible. Scarlett let go of her award as she wrapped her arms around your neck, hugging you tightly. With your quick reflexes, you manage to catch the award before it hits the ground and you hand it off to Lorelai who was waiting to receive it at the bottom of the stage.

You returned Scarlett’s hug just as tightly, cupping your right hand over her neck and wrapping your other arm around her waist, pulling her into you. “Hi baby,” you whispered into her hair, kissing her temple. You closed your eyes for a moment, cherishing the feeling of her finally being in your arms again. You didn’t realize how much you really missed her until just now.

You felt her body shake and gently you removed her from your body, keeping her at a nice distance. Scarlett had tears streaming down her face as she reached for you. “No,” she whimpered, her hands coming up to clench at your clothes. “Too far,” she clarified, tugging you closer still.

“Okay, I won’t go too far, but why’re you crying?” you asked, gently turning her body so her back faced the stage. Delicately, you brushed away her tears while you tried not to ruin her makeup. Thank god for waterproof makeup.

“I just missed you so fucking much,”

“I missed you too,” you kissed her head again, relishing the fact that she was with you for real and that it wasn’t a sick dream.

“What the hell are you doing here? I thought you were still in Rome!”

“I was… but I thought I’d stop by before my next show in a couple of days.” you replied, smiling warmly at her.

“What’re you wearing?” Scarlett asked, once she’s got a good look at you.

“What? You don’t like it? I think I’m dressed very nicely for the Oscars,” you teased, tugging at your hoodie and sweatpants, and then scrunching your face up, showing your face without any makeup.

“I think you look great.”

“I know… I was supposed to be at the house before you came here to actually be there for you but my flight got delayed because of the weather,”

Scarlett gasped, “That’s why you didn’t take my call!”

“Didn’t see it, had my phone on airplane mode. Anyways by the time I landed, the event had already started. And when I actually got here, they were presenting your award. I didn’t have time to change, if you can’t tell.”

“You look beautiful,” she said. “And I love you very much,” she murmured into your neck as she buried herself back into you. “And I appreciate you being here for me,”

“I love you too,” you mumbled. “Now, I think there’s an entire room full of celebrities waiting for your speech.” you quickly pulled away, making sure that you didn’t smear any of her makeup. Hastily, you reassured Scarlett that you would still be there when she was done with her speech but she wasn’t convinced. Instead, she clasped your hands together behind her as Lorelai handed her back her Oscar and headed back to her seat.

What the two of you didn’t realize was that during your reunion, the microphone had picked up everything you’ve both said and there wasn't a dry eye in the audience. Anyone who knew you and Scarlett knew that you were perfect for each other. And anyone who’s heard of you knew that you were the power couple that dominated every industry. You were the ‘it’ couple. One of the only couples the world knew that clicked as well as the two of you did.

You stood behind her, beaming with pride as Scarlett started her speech, her hand still grasped tightly in yours behind her back. “I’m so sorry about that, um, I haven’t seen her in 7 months and yeah,” she chuckled lightly, “I just wanted to thank everybody who got me here. I want to thank…” the rest of her speech faded away from your ears as you admired your girlfriend. You knew without a doubt that this would be the person that you’d spend the rest of your life with. “I also want to thank my partner in crime, Y/N,” you snapped back to reality at the sound of your name. “Without you, then none of this would’ve been possible, you helped me remember my lines and perfect my German accent, which was not easy, by the way, and yet, you never wavered. You never doubted for a second that I couldn’t do this, and I am so grateful to have you in my life. I love you more than words can ever express.” You smiled, kissing her cheek before you led Scarlett down the stairs to get her name engraved into her award. You stood beside her the entire time, holding her hand tightly, squeezing it periodically to reassure her that you were still there. And then again, when she went to get her picture taken. The media had a field day at the sight of you with Scarlett, dressed in old baggy clothes. However, you didn’t care at all. The only thing important to you was Scarlett.

The only time you let go of her hand was when an attendant needed her to return to her seat. You smiled at her comfortingly, “I’ll be back in a bit, love. I need to change into more appropriate clothes for tonight. I’ll meet you back at the seats.” Scarlett nodded before walking away, finally understanding the empty seat next to Lorelai when she saw she had moved down one spot.

“You sly bitch,” Scarlett whispered to her. Lorelai simply smiled before turning back to Cinematography clips.

Soon, Scarlett grew restless wondering where you were. As if you knew about her worries, you immediately appeared beside her, taking a seat next to her, dressed up like everyone else. You were wearing a black mermaid dress with no straps and shimmers decorated the fabric of the dress. Your hair was released from its messy bun and lay to rest on your shoulders. Your makeup around your eyes was dark but simple, just a bit more eyeliner on your waterline.

Scarlett’s incessant staring started to make you nervous and self conscious. “What? Do I look weird?”

“How is it possible that in only a couple minutes you can look so gorgeous while it takes me hours to look like this.” she gestured at herself.

“You look absolutely amazing,”

“You really think so?”

“Definitely,”

“Even if I probably had snot and tears running down my face earlier?”

“To me, you looked like an angel.”

↠↠↠

Everyone began clapping again as Rami Malik walked up onto the stage. “It is truly an honor and privilege to be here celebrating the transformative performances as displayed by these five nominees; they're powerful, profound, and indelibly etched in our history and in our hearts.” You smiled excitedly at Scarlett when you saw her picture from Marriage Story show up on the big screen. Your jaw dropped when you saw your performance for ‘Palm Springs’ appear on stage. “Here are the nominees for performance by an actress in a leading role. Cynthia Erivo, Harriet. Scarlett Johansson, Marriage Story.” You cheered loudly. “Saoirse Ronan, Little Women. Charlize Theron, Bombshell. Y/N L/N, Palm Springs.” This time, it was Scarlett who was cheering loudly for you, as you smiled shyly.

“And the Oscar goes to…… Y/N L/N.” Standing up, you had tears in your eyes as you gave everyone a hug. Scarlett gave you a quick kiss before you walked up onto the stage. “Congratulations,” Rami said, when he hugged you.

“Thank you,” you smiled as he handed you your award. Walking up to the microphone, you looked out into the crowd.

“I don’t know if any of you saw it earlier but I literally just arrived…” you laughed lightly, “Um wow… I did not know that I would be winning an Oscar tonight, or else I would’ve been more prepared. Truth be told, I was only really here to support my girlfriend, Scarlett Johansson. I had no idea that I would be winning something too. So, I’ll make this quick, I just want to thank Max Barbakow who even gave me the chance to audition for the part of Sarah. I also want to thank the amazing cast and crew, without you here then there wouldn’t be a movie to make and I am so grateful for all of you. And finally, I want to thank my incredible girlfriend, Scarlett Johansson. If it weren’t for you then I would’ve never even thought about taking this role. You have guided me and supported me through this entire project and I can’t thank you enough. I love you so much more than you’ll ever know. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have about 7 hours left here before I have to fly off to the next destination on my tour. Congrats to all the nominees and the winners tonight!”

Speedily, you walked across the stage and out the back to get your name engraved. You stopped for a couple pictures before you returned back inside. You came back in just as they announced the last winner for Best Motion Picture. The event soon came to a close.

You grinned along with Scarlett as everyone around you congratulated the two of you. Florence even came to tackle you into a hug. After arranging a date to hang out together again, you and Scarlett headed through the back where Lorelai and her driver were already waiting for you inside the car.

You opened the door for her, letting her in first. On the way back to the hotel, the two of you were sitting as close as you could with your seatbelts on. Your arm over Scarlett’s shoulder while she kept her face buried in your neck, trying to memorize your smell. The two of you spent the rest of the night talking about nothing and everything.

THE END

↠↠↠

3292 words

#scarlett johansson #scarlett johansson x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #the oscars #singer!reader universe #singer!reader #scarlett x reader #avengers #marvel #mcu #marriage story #jojo rabbit #rosie betzler #Nicole barber

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sehodreams · 6 months

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Everyone loves Eunseok

TW: ego!stalker!Eunseok x plus size!reader, noncon and dubcon, no p in v, thight fucking, cum play

Wc: 4.3k damn

Sorry it's a bit long, like I said English is not my first language, so if you have advice, it is more than welcome!

You've never thought you were lucky, you were just a normal girl with normal friends and a normal life. You studied, wore the makeup your friends recommended, and used your uniform as properly as your body let you, nothing out of the ordinary.

Also, you loved Song Eunseok, but that was almost the rule there, everyone loves Eunseok, so that was also pretty normal from you.

You knew each other for years, studying together in the same class as if it was destiny, but how could it be possible? That had to be pure luck, your friends said.

He was the director's son and you were the class president. Your friends nominated you as a joke, and you wanted to get angry, but how could you when he immediately nominated himself as the assistant, it was like a dream to work together, he always had others around and even if you were always in the same room you had no way of interacting for more than a two minute conversation, until now.

You were alone in the classroom, everyone having lunch in the cafeteria while you worked in some sheets for your teacher.

"Would you like some water?" You asked him, it was summer and the room was hot, he had some sweat on his forehead and you saw him struggle with his necktie. He nodded, you gave him your water bottle for him to take a sip, serving him just felt like something you should and had to do.

You watched him put his lips in your bottle and you heart started to pound. He was majestic, to say the least, he was dreamy and in your mind no way of describing him would do him justice. It was like a painting, the sun shining on one side of his face, his hair neatly put together and his gorgeous long eyelashes shadowing on his cheeks.

You continued reading the sheets everyone filled and got surprised when you saw his. "Oh, I'm applying to that university too" you said excitedly.

He smiled "chemistry right?" You nodded happily "and we're even applying to the same major!" You laughed. He looked at you for a second, softly laughing at your excitement. "It seems we'll be together for another 4 years, please take care of me there too"

He always had that soft voice tone, enchanting everyone. You continued with your work and when you both finished he grabbed the pile of paper and made sure you didn't lift a single finger, walking you to the professor's office when it wasn't his duty. You were happy to receive his help and spend more time together, it ended quick, sadly, because you had to go back to the classroom and sit far from him, and then when recess came he was surrounded by the others again, a shinning star for everyone.

It was later that day when you saw him again in the library. "Hey Eunseok, I thought everyone had left already" you were almost leaving when you saw him reading in a corner, almost hiding. You were finishing your duty as the library assistant, making sure there wasn't a single student before you closed the place.

"Oh I was about to leave, sorry i got lost in time" he said a bit flushed "it's pretty late already, how are you getting home at this hour?" He asked you, quickly closing his book to not take more of your time. You were touched by his interest, even if it was a question anyone could've done, he was the first to do it, "Oh I just take the bus" you answered. You put his book in the pile of books you had in your little car and pushed it to the entrance. You'd have to accommodate them the next day, as always. You grabbed your backpack to leave and he was standing behind you, in silence, waiting. You suddenly had a sense of deja vu, you didn't know how to explain it, you just felt like that exact escene had repeated before, the feeling of his presence behind you, in a way you had never really noticed before. You brushed the weird feeling off and continued smiling. "Well then, see you later" you said, happy to have spent so much time with him that day. You were about to leave when Eunseok stopped you, grabbing your arm. You looked at him surprised, not expecting his touch at all. "I can walk you to the bus stop" he said in a tone you had never heard before, eager, and almost like an order.

"That's not necessary" you smiled nervously, not wanting to bother him but at the same time trying to free yourself from his grip.

"I insist, it's almost eleven" you saw decision in his face, and even if he had his typical sweet smile and nothing seemed out of the ordinary, the air around you both just felt different.

"Oh, then sure, I'd really appreciate that" you accepted, it felt like a reflex, as instinct, no one could deny him anything, and you weren't the exception. He was Eunseok, your gorgeous Eunseok, so you tried to appreciate his act of chivalry, pretty typical of him. Still, there was something inside you that started to sound loud, like an alarm, trying to tell you to not go with him, but again, it was Eunseok, the principal's son, model student, admired and loved by everyone, so you told yourself that you were the problem and that it would be safer to walk with him than alone.

How wrong you were.

"So... why did you stay so late? Most students are leaving early since the sats finished" you asked, curious and wanting to talk with him more. You were guiding him in your usual rout, a bit long but safe, walking through the principal streets, full of people.

"Do you mind if we make a stop? It's just that there's a store I really like and I'd like to buy something before I leave you at the bus stop" he ignored your question. You didn't notice it, you just nodded with a smile and walked by his side, completely thrusting him. A shiver ran through your back, telling you to go back and to take your usual route, you shook your head making sure he didn't notice it.

You were in a dark alley in a couple of minutes, it looked as if it was behind a restaurant and another little businesses, it was in complety silence except for the ecco of the ambience music inside. There was not a single soul around, you could only see a couple of black trash bags and metalic trash cans. To be honest, it was a bit scary and you'd definitely go back your way if you were alone any other time. Still, you tried to continue walking, not showing how uncomfortable you were.

You were in the middle of the long alley when you heard a loud bang behind you, you instantly turned back to see what it was, pushing your body to Eunseok's. A cat ran from one side to the other and you sighed. "That was a bit scary" you laughed softly and turned to see Eunseok. His face was blank, not showing any emotion, and before you could ask him what was wrong, he pushed you by your shoulders with force, until your back touched the wall behind you. You're eyes opened with surprise and fear, shocked by the unexpected action. He covered your mouth with his right hand so you couldn't scream, you could only see him with your shaky eyes. "Your cheeks are so soft and plump" he smiled. There was only one street light at the end of the alley and the light reflected on one side of his face, what used to look like a painting now looked like an horror movie, you couldn't make any noise and he just looked down at you with a dark sight, his bright eyes that used to look like a painting now had lost all his light.

Was this real? You asked yourself, maybe it was a bad dream and you'd wake up in any second, yeah, it had to be a dream, it happened to you many times, good dreams that turned dark when you slept too much, you must've noticed it since you couldn't have talked so much in one day, too good to be true, and it was impossible to be in this situation with Eunseok, your sweet and popular classmate.

"Don't be afraid, i won't do anything you haven't thought about" his voice that used to be soft and inviting now felt like a knife on your skin. "I know what you think of me, I've heard you, and let me tell you, I feel exactly the same way" he smiled, you saw his teeth white and clean, a smile you would've appreciated in any other ocasion. "But really, how couldn't you notice that I've been behind you all this time? I've been trying to get near you forever, I've even made sure we were in the same class for years, and yet you never tried to approach me, what's wrong with you?" He asked, it seemed like an honest question, and he let your mouth free to answer, so you did. "I just... we never had the opportunity, you're always with other people... sorry Eunseok" you apologized, why were you apologizing? You asked yourself. It just came out like that, you had no time to think straight and he punched the wall behind you with the hand that used to be on your mouth, wrapping your throat with the other.

"Excuses, I gave you enough opportunities, and now you're always with that pretty boy? Shotaro, right? What kind of bullshit are you trying to pull?" He made you look at him in the eyes, pressing his fingers around you. Your eyes started to get wet, afraid like never, you couldn't answer. "Is he fucking you? Are you really satisfied with a kid like that? What can he do for you? Come on, we know you're too much for the other kids, they wouldn't know what to do with a woman like you, you need a real man, you just need me" he stated, you had to process his words for a second, not understanding what was going on, was that a love confession? You were confused.

"Answer" he ordered you but his hand got so tight you couldn't even breath, the tears fell down your cheeks and you slapped his hand to make him know you physically couldn't talk or breath. He loosed his grip, still maintaining you there, not being able to run away. "There's nothing going on with Taro, i swear" you said, it sounded like begging, you're mind was running a mile per second, thoughts scattered all around. "Eunseok, please let me go home, i won't tell anyone about this, i swear, please... please" you cried, trying to softener his force on you.

"Oh come on, why would i care about that?" He laughed "no one will believe you, think about it, I already have an image you can't change, everyone loves me, you included" he laughed of you in your face, making you feel hopeless because he was right, it was your word against his, and everyone loves Eunseok, you'd never win. "tell me, do you really think they're going to believe you? You have three friends, you're not popular, you're not pretty, not skinny, not even funny, you're no beauty and no clown, no one cares about you, not even your friends, everyone will leave you behind to save me, I'm the one everybody loves" now that hurt you, you cried looking him in the eyes, he didn't waver, just laughed again. "Oh, but i have to admit, you're so pretty when you cry too, do you remember when we sat close? You in front of me? I know we were a lot younger, but god, you've always had these beautiful cheeks, these gorgeous hips, and let's not start with your ass, every time you were concentrated in your work i couldn't help but look at you from behind, when you stood up and this skirt that does you not justice lifted, showing your soft thights, god, you have no idea how many times I've thought about fucking them"

You were silent, trying to find a way to let yourself free and run to the end of the passage, if you turned that corner you'd be able to run to a street with people and then he wouldn't have a choice but to let you go, you just had to run and don't look back. He followed your eyes to the end of the passage.

"Come on, I'm trying to confess my love here, why would you even think about leaving me behind? You were the one who wanted my attention first, always wearing your white blouse without a shirt inside, showing me your tits all the time, god, you don't even wear shorts with your skirt, you didn't care if I could see your ass when you walked or sat, you wanted me to look at you all the time, right? teasing me, teasing everyone" He said with a disappointed tone, mocking you. You shook your head denying all his words, that was all just untrue, you didn't wear under shirts because they made you sweat, and you didn't think anyone would care, no one looked at you that way, or so you thought. You were the chubby girl no one wanted to date, you weren't even friendly enough to be consider cute and cheerful, you were just there, another person in the class, you didn't think anyone would see you that much, and you didn't cover you too much because at the end of the day no one looked at you with that kind of desire, and you felt comfortable like that, free. But now Eunseok thought you were teasing him? You being a teaser? You denied again with your head.

He got mad, how did you dare to treat him like a liar?

"I know who you are, i know you're just a whore begging to be fucked, and to your luck, I'm the one who wants to fuck you" his hand went down your skirt while the other left your neck and pressed against your mouth, making sure no sound came out of your mouth, pushing your head to the wall. You could move, you were sure you could move and free yourself, but you just couldn't. You were so afraid you just stayed there, looking at him with shaky eyes. He grinned, his fingers pressing your wet panties to your clit, moving up and down, making sure you felt him playing with you.

"I'm the only one that can treat you right, no one else would be able to handle you, that Taro and his 2 inch dick can't take you to the places I can" his thumb moved your panties to the side, touching directly your lips and then your clit, drawing circles. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, not expecting his touch to be so strong and soft at the same time. He put the exact amount of pressure you needed, making you forget for a second what was really happening. "Such a slut, not even trying to escape" he laughed "I knew you just needed a little push to show your true side" his thumb stopped pressing your clit and started to fuck your insides with one of his fingers, his hand was already wet with your juices and your eyes fluttered when he put a second one. Your pussy was happy to receive his touch, dripping down your thights. You moaned when his hand thrusted you harder, almost making you cum. He replaced his hand with his mouth and kissed you, pushing you to the brim and making you cum on his fingers, letting the most needy moan leave your throat. "Yeah, that's right, keep cumming, keep cumming" he ordered and begged at the same time. You were so sensitive, just finishing your first orgasm, but he didn't stop fucking you with his hand, stimulating you too much and before you noticed, your arms on his neck and your right leg lifted to the side of his hip, you came again, so hard you felt a liquid come out of you, coating his hand and wrist. "Uhng wait please!" You cried, now so sensitive it hurt "it hurts too much, please stop" you begged with your legs shaking, almost falling. He help you stay still for a second so you wouldn't fall, and recovering from your orgasm you left your head fall to the wall behind you to breath. A minute passed and when you came back to your senses he was removing your panties, letting them fall to the floor. You felt the cold air of the night touch your sex and you remembered where you were, outside, and that you weren't supposed to like him touching you that way.

He saw your eyes looking around, lost, and kissed you again, not letting you think for even a second. He needed you to be dumb, stupid enough to love his touch, he had to quickly make you addicted to him.

He made you turn to the wall, your chest and cheek pressing to the rough surface, your hands on each side of you, too late to protect your face from the bump. He passed an arm around your neck, making sure your cheek didn't touch the dirty surface again, you were his girl, and he had to take care of you. "Sorry but tonight i won't fuck your pussy, i know you want it, but you have to deserve it, and you haven't been a good girl lately, have you?" He said softly, lips against your ear, "However, i need to cum too, don't you think so? It's only fair, so I'll fuck your thights instead, okay pretty girl?" He asked, you knew he wouldn't care about your answer, he would do it whatever you said, yet you nodded to feel less sick, trying to convince yourself that you wanted his touch. "That's my girl" he smiled. His free hand lifted your skirt over your ass and gripped the showing flesh, molding it however he wanted, parting your ass cheeks and touching your lips with his thumb. You moaned as a response, liking how his attention on you felt.

I like it, i like it, you repeated on your head, like a mantra, wishing you could convince yourself sooner than later.

He smiled proudly, you were learning how to please him. "You're being so good now, but you made me suffer so much smiling to that guy, i can't give it to you so easily, you would become too spoiled, I'm sorry my baby" he opened his pants and pushed his underwear until his dick jumped free, he coated it with your cum on his hand, as if it was lube, then he gently pushed his cock to your ass cheek, to cover you with his pre cum, marking you as his property, and before you could beg him to not do that because it felt weird, his dick easily slipped inside the softness of your thights, wet and dripping with your fluids after all the teasing and preparation. Your pussy instantly clenched around nothing and the tip of his dick pressed against your clit. He pressed the arm he had around your throat and you cried, feeling everything a hundred times more, full of eagerness. His hand positioned over your hip, working as a handle to move you against his body. The sound of the clasp of your ass to his hip bone echoing through the alley made the action even more dirty, adding to that, the jiggle of your ass made him lose himself for a second, forgetting to not press his arm too much so you could breath.

That continued for almost a minute, you felt your head light and not only from not being able to breath, but from the feeling of him fucking himself with your thights. It almost felt as if he was really fucking your insides, the thought made your mind foggy, and you rolled your eyes, delirious, feeling another orgasm approaching. "Sorry baby, got lost for a second" he said against your ear, letting you breath again. You nodded, understanding him, you could understand anything as long as it came from him, only him. "God you feel so good, you have no idea how much I've thought about this, I've jerked so many times thinking about this gorgeous cheeks" he softly bit your face cheek, making you sob, and then he kissed it, so delicate, contrasting with the rough way he was fucking your thights. "I can't even remember how many pictures of you I've covered with my cum" his hips thrusted into you harder, with so much force you felt the sting of the metal from his belt hurt you. "But I don't have to hold back anymore, right? Now that you're mine" you cried and bit your lip to not make too much noise, there was no one around but being in the open stopped you from moaning as much as you wanted. "Fuck, my baby is so pretty, just look at your beautiful ass" his hand now on your waist squeezed your soft meat, making you cry harder from the pain, feeling it good at the same time.

You liked that he said you were pretty just like you were, with your body full of flaws for others. "I'll cum on your pussy" he made you turn to him, chest to chest, he made you open your legs, lifting one of them so he could situate the tip of his dick over your clit. Jerking off with his free hand, tongue kissing yours, you put your arms around his neck to kiss better, and a couple of seconds later he came with a moan on your lips, he pulled away his lips from yours, foreheads touching each other, and sighed, relieved. At the same time he was making a mess over your clit with the help of his fingers that worked against it to make you cum one last time, wanting to mix both of your orgasms when you came again.

He continued kissing you for a couple of minutes, you couldn't breath or think so you let him. When he felt enough time had passed he moved away from you, wishing he could continue, but it was too late and you had to go home. He took his time fixing his pants and putting his shirt inside, as if nothing had happened. You were standing there, not being able to move, processing everything that had just happened. You felt yourself dirty, too dirty, his cum smeared on your pussy and your thights covered in slick. You watched your dirty underwear on the floor, not daring to wear them again. Those weren't your prettiest pair, they were white with a little star in a corner, almost childish, and now they had a big wet spot from all the teasing, and were covered in dust, losing all its innocence.

Eunseok watched you in silence, he grabbed your dirty underwear and put them on his pocket. "They're mine now, to remember our first time" you looked at him in the eyes, he continued telling you something else but you couldn't hear him, a whistle on your ears. He cleaned the inside of your thights with a towel he had in his backpack, then proceeded to give you an old pair of underwear you had lost from PE, you immediately recognized the black pair with lace you lost a long time ago. It was frequent for you to lose your things, your friends used to say it was because you didn't take care of them, but now you knew it was because someone was taking them away from you. When you didn't accept the clean pair he decided to help you get dressed, moving the panties up your legs. He accommodated your skirt and your shirt too, then he passed his fingers on your hair to fix how messy it was after everything he had done to you.

In what felt like seconds you arrived to your bus stop. He gave you his uniform jacket so you would feel more comfortable on the ride home, to sit on it and don't touch the seats directly.

"... and maybe then we can stay together in the apartment my family has near" you looked at him, back in your senses.

"Why would I go and stay with you in your family's apartment?" You asked confused.

"Well, because we're going to the same college and we're together now, you don't have to spend money on rent if you come and stay with me" he smiled lovingly at you and moved a string of your hair behind your ear.

"But you don't know if I'll get accepted" you answered nervously.

"We already passed, my dad gave me the results days ago" he said as if it was nothing, you looked at him in silence, tears forming in your eyes.

"Aww don't cry, I'll take care of you those years as well" He gave you a peck on the lips and hugged you, smiling. You couldn't help but cry, not hugging him back. You didn't know if it was because you were supposed to be happy to be accepted and you weren't, but you just felt like crying the rest of the night.

#riize x plus size reader #dark!riize #dark!eunseok #eunseok riize #eunseok x reader #riize smut #riize x reader

129 notes · View notes

httpknjoon · 1 year

Text

what a week! | the a-listers finale

plot | Get ready. This is the busiest, craziest, and most intriguing week ever in your fandom with you coming back to the Hollywood scene with a bang, causing more tweets, more memes, and maybe drama about you and Jin.

words | 4.8k (oh my god)

genres | humor/crack, fluff, angst, actors!au

pairing | actor!jin x famous!reader

note | usernames used in the fic are all fictional. (more note at the end) have fun reading!

main masterlist | drabble series

Hollywood Superstar YN to Make Comeback on Her Saturday Night Live Hosting Debut This December 2

‘From The Other Side’ actress and producer, YN will host NBC’s Emmy-winning live comedy show, Saturday Night Live for the first time this Saturday after her hiatus last year.

It was announced through social media today that the Oscar-nominated actress will make her hosting debut on the show this coming Saturday.

Along with YN, Indonesian singer-songwriter NIKI will also be having her SNL debut as the musical guest of the night.

It is worth mentioning that this will be YN's comeback in front of the cameras after taking an unexpected break in April 2022. She pulled out from projects with other big personalities from Hollywood such as Chris Evans and director, Wes Anderson.

Fans were instantly delighted by the news and expressed their joy over Twitter, with YN’s name being listed on worldwide trends almost immediately after the announcement.

@/YNUpdates: YN is set to make an appearance on The Tonight Show this coming Wednesday.

Not even an hour after the announcement of your appearance on the live television show, your appearance on Jimmy Fallon’s show was also reported. You also acknowledge your SNL gig by sharing the post on your Instagram Stories. To say your fans were excited was an understatement.

@/uronurownkid: OH YM GOD SHE’S BACK LIKE REALLY BACK

@/l0verynjin: and this is a live show!! We’ll be seeing her on skits again!

@/ynflowerkid: with NIKI as the musical guest???? my two worlds are coming together

Everyone– the fans and the press– truly hyped up the upcoming show, prompting even the general audience to be aware. Some critics shared that you might be able to bring high ratings for the show because of your large and active fanbase. Success was already expected for you and the show.

“Everyone, please welcome, YN!”

You enter through the big blue curtains, wearing a classy Gianni Versace Couture black long bell-sleeve dress from the 90s. You were looking like complete royalty with the matching diamond necklace and earrings you wore as you had your hair in a sleek low bun. The audience welcomed you with cheers and you cannot help but be surprised by everyone’s reaction.

“Oh, wow…” you mumbled, Turning your eyes from the audience to the host.

“Wow, right? That’s a lot of love.” Jimmy said, which you nodded at.

“Yeah, this is a little overwhelming… in a good way,” you said which made everyone laugh. Before you turned and waved to the viewers again, “Hi, everyone!”

They began cheering in response. You giggled with their enthusiasm.

“This is what you get for suddenly taking a break last year!” Jimmy said, using a stern, sarcastic tone.

You chuckled with that, “This is actually great! Maybe I should take unexpected hiatus every once in a while–”

“No, no, no.” Jimmy cut you off, more worried, holding your hand that rests on his table. You two instantly laughed. “We missed you a lot!”

“So… you’ll be hosting Saturday Night Live for this week…” he began.

“Yes. Yes, I am.” you nod as you shifted in your seat.

“How was it? How does it feel?”

“Oh, it feels really awesome! I’ve been wanting to host for a long time now since I loved the show ever since I was little. And I was really nervous at first when I showed up there. But everyone has been pretty nice and so talented. Everyone works so fast.” you shared, making the viewers laugh. “I’m not kidding! I was with the cast and Lorne Michaels in his office. Then, they asked me if I have any sketch ideas. After I shared mine, everyone just started to pitch like a hundred sketches and I was just sitting there, watching everyone collaborate. It’s amazing to see.”

“Yeah, that’s how it goes in the show.” Jimmy agreed. “It’s the best crew up there. The writers, the cast, the makeup and hair crew.”

“They are all wonderful,” you added.

“Yes. And you are going to be fantastic this weekend. Knock ‘em dead in Studio 8H. We’ll be watching.” he clapped and the audience cheered. Your lips form into a smile as you felt relief growing in your chest.

Jimmy continued as the applause lies low, “The last time you were here, we were talking about your then-upcoming film, From The Other Side. And now, you got nominations for it and even won a BAFTA’s Best Actress last February! Congratulation on that. You deserve it.”

Everyone clapped while you smiled, “Thank you.”

“And your director, Emerald Fennell, read your speech for you. In which you state that she made you make that speech hours before the ceremony?!”

“Ah, yes.” you chortled. “I wasn’t expecting to win that night. I mean, the lineup of other nominees for that category that night was really incredible. So I didn’t bother to write anything. But Em really pushed me to send something. She always believed in me and knew that I have a chance in winning that award. So I just texted her anything I could think of and said I love Brandon Fraser.”

The conclusion at the end made Jimmy and the audience laugh.

“I mean, who doesn’t?” the host backed you up. “Then, Academy Awards came by March and everyone was expecting you’ll show up. But during the red carpet event, you posted this…”

Jimmy showed a snapshot of you playing the piano. You grinned, “I did. I’ve been learning to play the piano since last year and I know my supporters are waiting for me. So I just showed them I’m at home so they won’t wait up.”

“That’s nice and you were really good with the piano.” Jimmy compliments. “But can we talk about your hiatus?”

You pause and nod. Now, this is the part Hailey gave you a heads-up on. You were aware that your unanticipated break will be talked about tonight. Your manager gave you a guide on how the show and host will discuss everything in order.

Jimmy, on the flip side, was told earlier by his producers that he can ask about it. Admittedly, he was confused and worried if you knew that you were going to be interviewed about your break since everyone knows you have been private for the past couple of years. He doesn’t want to cause any discomfort to his guests. When he confirmed that you agreed with the topic of tonight’s interview, he agreed to discuss it with guide questions from his writers.

“Yeah, sure.”

The tension was rising in the room at the moment you replied. It was dead silent. But what made it lighter was when the production crew chose to play things off by setting the spotlight just on you two, making it seem like an interrogation scene. It made everyone laugh, even you and Jimmy.

“So… people were saying you took a break last year because of a lot of things.” the host spoke, emphasizing the word.

“Oh, yeah. I heard about it.” you raised an eyebrow. “How about let’s play a game of true or false with those headline rumors?”

The audience cheered with excitement. This is a rare time a big celebrity would debunk or confirm news about them personally.

“Okay, okay. Let's start with this one…” Jimmy reads, “True or false. YN, are you planning to retire from acting really soon?”

“False, Jimmy! I’m hosting SNL this week for goodness’ sake,” you answered dramatically. The host laughed.

“She’s hosting SNL this week, people!” he repeated, looking at the camera. “How about this one? YN, true or false, did you move away from the country and lived in South Korea for a year?”

You grinned, “Partially true.”

“Explain yourself, YN.”

“Okay, the only thing that was right in that rumor is that I did move.” you teased everyone. “And no, I am not telling where.”

“Understood. Okay, let’s move to another one… oooh, this is the most controversial yet.” Jimmy laughed as he looked at you. “True or false, you took an unexpected hiatus because you got into a bad heartbreak.”

The audience’s reaction was all ‘ooh’ in a curious and a little worried way. Like they just saw someone sprinkling salt on someone’s wound. You took your time before answering,

“False,” you replied, shaking your head. “Definitely untrue. I think everyone just knows it when I’m in a relationship.”

“No, I don’t think we do, YN.” Jimmy rebutted, making the viewers laugh as they relate too. With years of everyone romantically connecting you and Jin, they just cannot tell if you two are romantically together or not. The host continued, “But are you not really dating anyone right now?”

“Oh, I’m not. I’m not dating anyone right now…” your voice trailed off as you make a side eye at the audience. They showed their disapproval with that by playfully booing, and you giggled.

He copied your tone and action as he asked, “But is there anyone you’ve been seeing currently or…”

“I don’t know, Jimmy…” you sighed, shaking your head. You acted disappointed in a very obvious way. “It’s really hard to find someone to date when you’re married. I mean, I think it’s a crime to go out with someone while–”

Big gasps. Everyone in the room– excluding you– gasped at the same time that it was audible. Their eyes were wide, a few have their hands on their chests, and someone screeched in surprise at what you said.

“Wait, what?” Jimmy asked as soon as he picked up what you just said.

“What?” you looked around the room, acting like you didn’t just say something of a big deal. “Oh, yeah. I’m married, you guys!”

Breaking the silence, the band played the drums as you showed off the wedding ring on your finger, hiding below the bell sleeve of your dress. Not just a wedding band, but a blinding engagement ring also sat on top of it.

“Oh my god! Congratulations!” Jimmy stood up from his swivel chair and walked up to you. You stood up and you shared a hug. He whispered, “Congratulations!”

“This is wonderful!” he added, as he holds both of your arms.

You laughed as you nodded, “I know!”

Everyone laughed while applauding at the fact you are now married. Jimmy hugged you again before walking back to his spot. You can feel your cheeks hurt from how long you have been smiling throughout the interview. But you love it. You love that you finally shared the news with the public.

“When did you get married?” the host asked.

“Two years ago! It was in 2021, Jimmy!” you replied happily and you heard another series of reactions in surprise.

“What?!” Jimmy’s lips gaped. “You were already married when you went here last time?”

You nodded with chuckles, “Yes. My husband and I chose to be pretty private about the whole process. We value enjoying the first couple of years of our marriage without the whole attention of everyone. But now, we decided to share it with you, guys finally!”

“This is really great, YN. Thank you so much for coming to the show.” Jimmy smiled and you can feel that he was genuine. Jimmy turned to the camera again, “YN. Ladies and gentlemen! We’ll be right back.”

The camera still caught you waving to everyone before it cuts to the commercial. With this kind of news, it was expected how everyone will react. Showbiz websites and accounts began writing their articles. Your fans were expressing their emotions and surprise.

@/ynisthatgirl: the fuck you’re telling me yn been married since 2021

@/YNUpdates: Congratulations to our main girl and the lucky guy! 🥰🥰🥰

@/MIDNIGHTPAIN_: BIGGEST PLOT TWIST IN THE YN FANDOM

@/YNJINUpdates: 🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️

Replying to @/YNJINUpdates

- @/versaceisyn: what’s with the candles

– @/walkingonsunshine: i think we all know what’re the candles for

@/frannycatfood: but who is the husband though 👀

@/ynilysm: i just woke up…

Linked with you revealing your marital status is the identity of your husband. Everyone began taking their bets on who is your mystery spouse. Of course, topping the list is your three-time co-star and always rumored lover, JIN. One of the most memorable stories in the YNJIN fandom is when you two flew to South Korea with friends back in 2021.

@/outtahere: ur telling me ynjin prolly got married in seoul two years ago?

Then, the theory about you having a secret partner was brought up. Ever since the lockdowns, some people have believed that you are possibly dating someone who is not in Hollywood. They claimed that someone is a successful, private, and young entrepreneur.

It’s no secret that there are people and solo fans who think that you and Jin are only doing the whole ‘dating or not dating’ bit for attention and to keep your names floating on social media and articles. It helped you two become household names in Hollywood, other than your works. You two were everywhere online with your fans making edits, sharing their thoughts, and posting every picture of you. Although accidentally, the general public was always aware of what was going on with you.

And what’s going on with your always rumored lover, you might be wondering.

Jin is still inactive on social media. His last online update was promoting the final episode of his limited series on HBO, which was a couple of months ago. But he had public appearances since the premiere. Two appearances to be specific.

Friday, almost two days after you announced your marriage and fans made their theories about your husband’s identity. Of course, the number of people who believed that Jin is your spouse was high. They were hoping to see Jin around New York since you will be doing SNL there for the weekend and they will take it as confirmation. But in lieu, he was seen walking out of a coffee shop in LA, where he was kinda hoarded by the press during the morning. He was alone as he tried to make his way to his car.

One of the camera guys cannot help but ask, “Did you know YN is married?”

“I did. She is one of my friends in the industry. Of course, I knew.” he answered simply, not bothering to look at the cameras. He just focused his eyes on the pathway to make sure he won’t stumble because of the press crowding around him.

“Any thoughts about it?” another one asked.

“I’m happy for her. She deserves happiness above all.”

His lips can be seen forming into a small smile as he replied. He finally got to the driver’s seat of his car. Before he hopped in, he answered one last question.

“Any hints about her husband?”

“Nice guy. A little childish sometimes but he makes good jokes.” he chuckled before driving away.

The video was uploaded by the paparazzi on the same day. Jin trended worldwide as fans expressed their thoughts about it.

@/1800JIN: i cannot believe how fast things are going rn this is crazy

@/badnonnie: NOW WHY WOULD HE SAY THAT ABOUT YN’S HUSBAND 💀

@/YNJINUpdates: the first stage of grief is denial. so no, i don’t believe anything that is happening.

@/puhleaseynjin: idk what to feel rn but great to know that jin knows about her marriage after all

Replying to @/puhleaseynjin

- @/livelaughyn: yeah it means they really do trust each other 🙁

And Saturday came. Since you were all over the news the whole week, your name was mentioned during the cold open. Hearing the people’s excitement as you prepare backstage made you breathe a little better. The intro began and the band began playing.

“Thirty seconds left, hon.” one of the staff members, who waits with you behind the door, whispered. “Good luck.”

You smiled at her, “Thank you. Donna.”

And as soon as you send that, you heard the announcer saying:

“Ladies and gentlemen, tonight’s host, YN!”

That’s your cue. Someone opened the door for you, you walked out and everyone sees you in a black blazer mini dress and strappy pumps. Standing in the middle of the stage, you cannot really see the audience properly because of the light pointed at you. Still, you put on a smile and tried to shake off the twisting feeling in your stomach. You jived to the melody and paused when it stopped. The audience was clapping the whole time.

“Thank you! Thank you very much. I am so happy to be finally here on the SNL stage for the very first time!” you began and they cheered once again. “And it’s great to be here, in front of everyone again, after ghosting y’all for almost two years!” waves of laughter erupt. “ Now, some of you may be heard of me from my first movie when I was 9, Little Miss Sunshine–” people cheered. “Or my most recent film, From The Other Side. Or maybe you just heard a piece of certain news about me…” you winked.

“So in case you’re living under a rock, three days ago, I surprised everyone by announcing that I got married–” the audience erupted with claps and cheers. “–last 2021 to an actual person that nobody knows about.” you rolled your eyes, making everyone laugh.

“And every cast member here has been asking me this past few days: how did you got married? Where did you get married? Who’s the lucky guy? And you know what, let me just go give him a call–”

The audience screamed in excitement. You tapped on your dress’s pockets, searching for your phone. SNL cast member Kenan Thompson got on stage, handing you your phone.

“Hey, YN. You left your phone in the makeup chair.”

“Oh, thanks, Kenan.”

“And since I was the one who found it… can you please tell me who is your husband?” he said it in an excited kid way that made everyone cackle.

You tsked before shaking your head, “Oh, Keenan–”

A series of knocks were heard. A familiar tune from your past suspense movie played in the background. The audience laughed as you and Keenan looked at each other with wide eyes. You slipped your phone into your pocket and began acting alert like a spy.

“Does someone really knocks on that door?” you asked in the serious tone of your old character.

He shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t know. You were the last one who went from there.”

The audience laughed and another knock was heard.

“Lemme go check on that.” Kenan was about to walk to the door but you stopped him.

“What if it’s The Creator?” you asked, referencing the antagonist.

“Who the hell is that? The only creator here is Lorne Michaels.” Kenan quipped, receiving laughs from everyone, before walking to the door.

You waited on the stage and the camera focused on Kenan, who peeked through the door instead of opening it directly. He was teasing. Then, he looked back to you, to the camera, and back to whoever was on the other side of the door. He was grinning. Everyone was wondering what was going on. It was just pure silence. And as he walked down the small set of steps, he spoke:

“Oh, YN! Someone is looking for you!”

You raised an eyebrow, “Who is it–”

Then suddenly the door just opens, showing a man in a dark casual suit and a bouquet of white tulips in his hands. He uttered,

“Hi, I’m actually looking for my wife–”

Jin was cut off by screams from the audience. He bit his inner cheek to stop himself from smiling. But everyone can notice the corner of his lips forming into a smile. In live shows like this, the actor would usually wait for the intense audience response to die down for a few seconds. But the reactions are not getting smaller, so Jin resumed.

“She told me she’s going here tonight.”

“Oh, I’m here! I’m here! I’m the wife!”

You raised your hand with a proud grin on your face and Jin had to walk down with a bouquet in his hand. The audience laughed as the band plays a wedding march. Your husband laughs too. When you two stood next to each other in the middle of the stage, Keenan introduced you two:

“Everyone, please welcome, for the first time ever as a married couple, YN and Jin!”

The audience clapped, cheered, and somebody even whistled. He softly placed his hand on the small of your back before you turned to him. Your hand caresses his cheek as you two lean closer to each other. For the first time ever, you and Jin shared a kiss in front of the public. Everyone cheered louder. Pulling away, you two smiled slowly as you gazed into each other’s eyes. You noticed the slight tint of red growing on his cheeks and ears. It reminded you of so many moments in your relationship. It was like you got lost in the moment for a second before you turn to the camera.

“We got a great show tonight! Stick around. NIKI is here! We’ll be right back!”

The camera pans away as you wrapped your arms around Jin’s neck, pulling him in for a kiss again, while he holds your waist.

You did a total of eight skits, two of which were pretaped. Your husband made another appearance during the show. He played a character with Michael Che, Colin Jost, and Mikey Day during the Weekend Update segment, playing as paparazzi who never did their job right. Jin had a line that was so ironic, it made the audience laugh and react from their seats.

“Yeah, last week, I heard that very beautiful actress got married…”

Michael asked, in character, amidst the giggles, “Who? What’s her name?”

“I think he’s talking about Scarlett Johansson.” Mikey chimed in, making Colin Jost smile, who replies, “No, I don’t think he’s not.”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot she already married that comedy guy three years ago.” Mikey replied, making Jost shake his head as he blush.

Jin finally answered, “It’s YN! You know, the one who posts cat pics all over the internet, won the BAFTA Best Actress this year, has been doing movies since she was nine, wrote songs with–”

“Okay, okay, Frank. I think everyone already knows who YN is.” Mikey cuts him off, making everyone laugh. “Why are you bringing her up by the way? Do you got any snaps from her wedding?”

“Ah, yes. I do!” Jin replied almost immediately as he acts clicking on his camera. The audience squealed, elated to catch a glimpse of whatever he was going to share. The TV screens in the studio glitched, causing confusion to the viewers. “Oh, I think my camera’s broken.”

“Let me see.” Mikey, in character, acted desperate as he reached for the camera. He checked and clicked on it before turning to Jin, “The memory card is not here, man!”

The bit ended with them arguing. NIKI performed two songs for the night. For the closing of the show, you had a graphic shirt on with pants.

“Thank you so much to NIKI!” you began, turning to the singer beside you. You clapped along with the audience. “To Lorne, to the amazing cast and studio crew…. And to my lovely husband,” everyone, including the cast members, cooed. You looked back at him who was standing in line with the cast members. He smiled as he saw your eyes sparkling with joy. You looked back to the front.

“Thank you so much, everyone!”

After the show, you and Jin were photographed together, walking hand in hand, as you enter the afterparty venue. As usual, you were wearing something Versace. You stun everyone with a light-reflecting metallic sparkly mini dress. It literally reflects with the flashes of the cameras pointed at you and your husband. You matched it with silver strappy heels and a small metallic Prada tote bag.

“Congrats, YN!”

You stopped in your tracks and turned your head when you heard that voice. Turning around, you spotted Greg in line with other paparazzi.

“Thanks, Greg!” you winked and Jin also waves at him.

You also posted a photo a day after.

YN and JIN are married *Apparently For Almost Two Years Now*

It’s been a busy week for the whole YNJIN fandom this week!

Just last week’s Saturday, it was announced that YN will be hosting the second show for SNL’s season 49. More than a year after her last public appearance and hiatus. It was later followed by the actress-songwriter appearance on The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon, in which she talked about her BAFTA win and cleverly announced her marriage. Although she didn’t disclose who’s the lucky guy, happiness was evident on her face as she replied to Jimmy’s questions. The fans were taken in surprise by the news, showering her with lovely congratulatory messages.

And just tonight, during her monologue as the show’s host, YN finally revealed who it was. Surprise, surprise! Joining her on the SNL stage is her longtime rumored lover, JIN. The ‘Still Alive’ actor showed up on stage unexpectedly, causing a loud reaction from the live viewers. SNL cast member Kenan Thompson, who was also in the bit for YN’s monologue, officially introduced the two as husband and wife. The couple shared a liplock to seal the news.

According to the shared statement of the A-lister couple’s publicists, YN and JIN were wed in an intimate ceremony two years ago, last November 2021, in their shared residence in Massachusetts.

It was unclear where or when YN and JIN got engaged or began dating. But all we know was the two initially met for the production of their first movie, Cornelia Street, back in 2016. It was a hit, mainly due to the lead actors’ powerful chemistry, and birthed many supporters for the duo. But the rumors about their relationship began in 2018 when the two were seen hanging out often.

The two never confirmed anything and trolled everyone about it. Even reaching the point where they became Instagram official. YNJIN even made a joke about buzzes about them breaking up when they posted a clip about it before. The two got crazier rumors over the years: living together, cheating (and breaking up again), and the actress writing love songs based on her relationship with JIN.

YN, 28, has previously dated other known names in the industry such as Jordan Fisher, Kim Taehyung, and Niall Horan. Meanwhile, JIN, 31, was more private with his past relationships. But he was formerly linked to model Lee Sung Kyung and briefly to Selena Gomez. The wedded A-listers have worked together in a total of three films: Cornelia Street, Maybe Yes Maybe No, and Lonely People.

We are probably late but… Best wishes to Hollywood’s favorite couple!

It was a big event in both social media and celebrity newsrooms. People shared their reactions online and even talked about you two in their real-life conversations. A lot of people made memes about the whole thing. The reveal of your husband was called iconic in one of the articles written. The number of edits, pictures, and just any type of content flooding all commonly used social media sites is crazy.

@/YNJINUpdates: YNJIN officially confirms marriage during SNL appearance 💚

@/thisislove: IM CRYING THEY LOOK SO GOOD TOGETHER

@/IMMANEEDSP4CE: ynjin hard launching their relationship on snl is not in my 2023 bingo card

@/KellyDelaCruz: I just lost fifty dollars to my sister because of this whole thing!

@/bellisimayn: the whole fandom right now:

@/tanginuhynjin4ever: we never got any dating confirmation but it’s all worth it!! 💗💗

Replying to @/tanginuhynjin4ever

- @/0283ynjinfan: TOTALLY WORTH IT

Two days, after you publicized your marriage, it was Jin’s birthday. As to keep up with the tradition, you posted a simple greeting on Instagram. You literally just greeted them but you added some photos.

The first pic was taken during your trip together months before the reveal.

The second image is your hand, showing off the engagement ring, while Jin can be seen in the background grinning.

Then, on the third slide, a polaroid picture of you and Jin. It was taken through a selfie. You were grinning as Jin plants a smooch on your cheek. Unbeknownst to everyone, it was taken during your first wedding back in November 2021, in your then-newly bought home in Massachusetts.

And for the fourth one, Jin was seen carrying two babies, both heads turned away from the camera, on each arm. He was sat on a familiar couch with Francheskat resting beside him.

In the last slide, a screenshot of your conversation from a year ago. You did not put any context so the fans are left to think about it.

author's note | that's it, folks! that's the end. oh my god, I didn't expect the love this series got. writing this series always brought me joy and it honestly brought me back here in tumblr. thank you so much for all the love you sent out for the a-listers. i truly appreciate everything. as always, my asks are open for questions about the whole series. also, if you have questions for the a-listers, feel free to send 'em. I'll be responding in a few days. also, just want to let y'all know, i'm planning for a spinoff. thank you so much, loves. 💕✨

taglist rules

THE A-LISTERS TAGLIST

@jub-jub @yoontaethings @kissme-ornot @sleepy-daydreams @veronawrites @cuteipat @ratherbefangirling @babystarcandy-gcf @akirawhore @alpacaparkaseok @rjsmochii @lovesickbangtan @rapmonie2047 @btsiguess-kpop @angelarin @walkinganxiety0 @bloopkook @yoooonie @amara-mars @firesighgirl @zwiehe @hiii-priestess @lojocas @juju-227592 @singukieee @eshtravagent @canarystwin @petalsofink

PERMANENT TAGLIST

@dunixxd @cixrosie @jksjx @embrace-themagic @buttvi @starbtslove @missseoulite @vanntaesworld @kenqki @pixybear @miyukihoshi @stopeatread @seolaquotes @greyrain23 @chimchimmarie

#jin x reader #jin fluff #bts jin #jin fic #jin au #seokjin x reader #seokjin fanfiction #bts social media au #seokjin fluff #bts fluff #bts angst #bts x reader #bts imagine #bts series #bts au #bts fanfic #the a listers ksj

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wardenparker · 1 year

Text

Bright Lights & Broken Dreams - pt 1

Dieter Bravo x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 19.6k Warnings: Drug and alcohol use (duh, it’s Dieter), mentions of dieting/food concerns, past pregnancy scare, young Dieter being a bit sleazy, the absolute sass of these two, emotional damage, self-doubt, puppy love, vaginal sex, protected sex, workplace quickie, one very determined slap, yelling/arguing, anger, mention of addiction. Summary: Taking a new film project at the last minute puts you in immediate proximity with the one man you swore you would never work with again - your old flame, Dieter Bravo. Notes: This story contains flashbacks! Nobody is underage, but it’s worth giving you a heads up, lovely reader, because this story jumps around in time.

It doesn't matter how many times you do this, each table read for a new project is always exciting. The feeling of giddiness starts in your toes and rolls all the way through you to the top of your head. It has you up and awake and ready to go this morning even without the coffee that is piping hot in your travel mug as you pull your car into one of the designated spots behind the soundstage in the studio lot. Ten years in Hollywood have been good to you - really good, if you're honest. And the years on Broadway had been amazing before that.

You've never taken for granted how impressive your resume is or how upward your career continues to climb, and that includes days like today. The studio had asked for you specifically, your agent said on the phone last night. Some timing issue with the original star that the director wanted and the producers were jumping on it to bring you in instead. No audition necessary, all contract terms agreed to with no questions asked. She even managed to negotiate a slightly higher salary for you than usual. Your best paid project to boot and it will be a character-driven drama. Surefire Oscar nominations. Everyone is over the moon about the project, she said. The only thing she didn't know was who you were playing opposite. Doesn't matter, you had told her cheerily. I'm a professional.

For the most part, the cast has arrived already when you walk into the room. There are some faces you recognize and some that you don't, but everyone is chatting merrily as they set themselves up at the table. Your coffee and water, pencil and highlighter all neatly frame the shooting script that the production assistant sets down in front of you when he also sets down your name tag - letting the other people in the room know who you are and who you're playing in the film. There's only one empty seat with five minutes left before the reading is set to begin, and you're busy replying to an e-mail about a public appearance to see the name on the tag of the person who will be sitting directly across from you.

Dieter Bravo.

******

Wincing behind his sunglasses, Dieter stumbles towards the conference room that has been designated for the table read. Unable to fathom why they insist on doing these damn things so fuckin' early. It's not like there's a scene that's going to be shot right after. Groaning, he reaches into his pocket to pull out the bottle where his aspirin, antacids and speed are all mixed together like a colorful little surprise every time he shakes some into his hand. "Goddamn." He huffs, popping a handful of them into his mouth, heedless of what they are and takes the already opened bottle of water that his long suffering assistant is holding out to him as she tries to hurry him along the sharply lit hallway. "Which one is this?" He asks, unsure of exactly what table read he is walking into. He barely pays attention to what his agent books for him anymore, just as long as he is working and there are the drugs he needs supplied, he is fine with whatever at this point.

"The working title is Ego Death." His assistant tells him, though she knows that isn't actually the question he's asking. 'It's the one filming partially in London and France." What he wants to know is where he's going. Where his partial vacation is going to be. This one, though, she doesn't mind so much. Working out of Pinewood Studios is actually one of her favorite places to be if they aren't filming at home in LA.

"Uh huh, uh huh." Dieter bobbles his head as he swallows the water and grimaces. He would prefer wine or a scotch to chase the pills but Desiree had demanded that he drink some water in the morning at least. To counteract all the non-water beverages he drinks later throughout the day. "Like France. The people seem to like me. I always get lucky in Paris."

“I know, Dee.” Of course, Desiree knows. She’s the one who has to fend off the angry one-night stands for a week or two afterward. Almost every single time. She sighs as they round the corner of the hallway. “Here we go. Conference Room C. The production assistant has me on call to come pick you up later, so I’ll see you in a few hours.”

Dieter shakes his arms and his head in an effort to clear his thoughts but all he does is make himself dizzy. Nearly tripping over the carpeted floor when he missteps and nearly goes crashing into the wall. "Fuck!" He yelps, waving her away immediately. "I'm good. Just..." He looks down at his crocks and huffs. "Fuckin' things are trying to kill me."

"Maybe next time you'll wear the tennis shoes I put out for you," his assistant suggests, knowing he never will. "Go on in, Dieter. You're actually on time."

"Why would I want to be on time?" He huffs, rolling his eyes and stopping short of the door so he can root around and look for the candy he had stuffed in his pockets. "Hey, can you get me some uh...some uh...shit?" He asks, forgetting the word for what he wants but he knows she will understand.

"Sweater pocket, not robe pocket." The little Italian hard candies that he likes are mandatory when he has anything to do that lasts more than an hour, like an edible fidget toy. Unfortunately, the fact that he's wearing a cardigan and a robe both with deep pockets means he loses track of things. "And being on time is respectful to your costars, Dee. And to the production staff. Which is why you are on time." She opens the conference room door pointedly. "I'll see you this afternoon."

He wants to grumble at her, point out that he is the star of this particular drama, but instead, he's turning towards the room full of people. Immediately cocking his head as he takes in the group behind the large, dark sunglasses. Smirking slightly at some and then his brows raise when he spots someone he never expected to see at a read through table with him.

You.

"You have to be fucking kidding me..." You look up when you hear the door open, expecting to see your final costar strolling in. Instead you're greeted with the vision of Dieter-fucking-Bravo being nearly shoved through the door by his assistant and your eyes dart down to the last remaining name tag. Dieter Bravo. It reads, and underneath it, his role. This is going to be an absolute fucking disaster.

You’re here. Quickly Dieter schools his expression into one of nonchalance and shuts down the urge to immediately ask why you are here. It’s pretty obvious when you are sitting across from the only empty seat. His seat. You’re his co-star. Dieter hisses under his breath and adopts a careless grin. “Hey everyone. Guess I made it. We can start.”

"Fantastic." The director is excited and nervous, trying his best to look and act in charge of this powerhouse cast that he's been lucky enough to assemble. This is his Oscar bait, right here in this room – the screenplay and the subject manner of the film are icing on the cake. "Welcome everyone. Good morning. The next few months are looking to be very exciting and we're going to get started quickly. This week is hair and makeup trials, costume fittings, and a few location details. Next week we'll be at Pinewood and we’ll finish with the location shoots in France. We're not wasting any time here."

"As long as there is time for playing, I'm good." Dieter jokes as he walks around to the swivel chair in front of a script book with his name on it. "Can't go to France and not play." He glances over at you, watching as you very pointedly look down at your script and inwardly scoffs at the very prim and fashionable outfit you are wearing. Everyone else is in casual clothes, but you are dressed to impress.

A reputation built on talent, hard work, and professionalism has made your name gold in this business, but Dieter never had to worry about any of that. The term nepo baby seems to have been invented just for him and that huge dynasty family of actors, directors, and producers that he's descended from. No wonder he has so little regard for everyone else's time. You shake your head to shake off the anger and flip open your script while the director talks on about plans for a speedy shooting schedule and getting ahead of the studio's timeline. It's the same stuff every director talks about in the beginning, and while you listen you jot down a few notes to yourself of questions you have and requests to pass on to your assistant. The most important being making sure that your hotel room is as far away from Dieter's as possible while you're on location.

Dieter pretends like he's not paying attention. He's good at that. A lifetime spent on stage and behind the scenes of sets leaves him with a sense of boredom when it comes to this kind of thing. Tapping his own pen on the script as he watches you scribble furiously like you are studying for a test.

"Alright, you all know how this works." When he's gotten through the speech that is meant to be inspiring and encouraging, your director sits down at the head of the long table and opens his own script. "Our first AD will read stage directions, you'll all read your roles, and we'll break for lunch before we touch base over questions and concerns." He is practically vibrating in his seat as he looks around. "Unless anyone has something they want to mention before we begin?"

"Yeah." Dieter twists lazily in his seat to look from the director towards you and he pulls his sunglasses down. "How did you come to work on this film?" He asks, smirking slightly as if he knows the answer. Conceited enough that he might just believe that you jumped at the chance to work with him again.

"I was asked." Sitting up straight in your seat, you reach for the travel mug full of coffee that you brought and instantly wish there was brandy in it as well. "I was told there was a timing issue with the previous leading lady, but now I'm wondering if she didn't pull out after finding out who she was going to have to put up with." Something you might consider doing, too, if you had found out before showing up here today. Now it would just give him too much satisfaction to feel like he won something, and you would never give him any satisfaction.

Snorting, Dieter grins as he looks around the room, not even caring that plenty of people are shuffling uncomfortably in their seats. "You mean the only one in this room with that little golden statue?" He asks, eyes finding yours again.

"And the only one who will shove it in everyone else's faces?" He would bring up your most recent snub in a room full of people just to be a dick. It was barely three weeks ago that you lost that Oscar and the wound is still fresh. Of course, it was freshest the next morning, when he had gloatingly sent a Better luck next time style note to your house. How the bastard had your address was beyond you.

"Nahhhh." Dieter shakes his head. "I keep that on display at home. I don't just carry it around." He chuckles quietly at his own comment and shrugs. "Sure that you'll get one, one day."

Your lips are pursed as you look down at your script after taking a sip of coffee, and you scrawl a note in the margins of your script to remind yourself that this would be an excellent picture to elevate yourself to executive producer on. If he's going to be petty, then you're going to be petty's boss.

Bored of bantering with you, Dieter drops his pen and grunts, reaching for his pocket to try to hunt down another one of those candies. Knowing that if he kept up, he would say something that he might actually feel bad about. Which was rare for him.

"Okay. Well." When your director clears his throat it's nervous instead of excited. "Let's get started, shall we?"

Unwrapping a candy, Dieter halfway listens as he opens the script and squints at the page. He needs goddamn glasses but he's too vain to get them and despite snorting powder and popping pills, the idea of sticking his fucking fingers in his eyeballs makes him squeamish.

It's a rocky start. You aren't vain enough to claim otherwise. And the looks on the faces of your castmates and the present members of the production team say so also. Dieter is tripping over his words despite not seeming to be overtly intoxicated and is causing the reading to take twice as long. By the time you get halfway through – to the scene containing a slap, a screaming match, and a smashed prop – you're feeling like this won't be acting at all. Starring in a movie opposite Dieter is going to be exactly as infuriating and maddening as you suspected it would be.

"Who wrote this shit?" Dieter scoffs, irritated with the way that the read is going. "It doesn't flow. It's gotta flow." He looks around for support from some of the other cast and then towards the director. "Not to act like an ass but who talks like this? We are supposed to be in the 1920's not the 1720's."

"Perhaps the problem isn't with the writing but with the reading." After the way he snarked at you in the beginning, you aren't about to let the director take Dieter's vitriol alone.

"Why don't we take a quick five?" He suggests, looking around to see relief on some of the actors' faces as they nod in agreement. "That's five, everyone. Grab a drink or a snack if you need it, bathrooms are down the hall."

Sneering at you, Dieter pushes away from the table and stomps off, needing to piss and to see why the hell the speed he had taken isn't working. Maybe he didn't manage to take any. "Fuck this."

"Hello?" Desiree wasn't expecting to see her boss's name pop up on the caller ID for another hour bare minimum, and she puts down the other half of her sandwich in resignation when she picks up the call. If Dieter is calling, something has upset him. "How's the reading going, Dee?" She asks with a pointedly cheerful tone in her voice.

"Get me the fuck out of this." Dieter growls, holding the phone away from his head. He hates the damn bluetooth built into every damn device. It fucks with his brain waves and he feels weird. "I don't give a shit how, I'm not doing this fucking piece of shit movie."

"You loved the script when you read it." His assistant frowns on the other end of the line. "You have a studio contract, Dee, and you already wriggled your way out of the thriller they wanted you to do. This is it. There's not a way out of this that doesn't involve you getting sued and losing a ton of work." She sighs softly, rolling through the possible things that could have upset him when she lands on the most likely. "Is there someone I need to push to have recast?"

Your name is on the tip of his tongue. Unease and unresolved issues with you curl and curdle in his gut and he opens his mouth to tell her exactly who he wants to have gone. But then he realizes if he does, you win. You would see it as a victory. "No." He grunts into the phone, sighing softly. "Fuck this."

"I'll see if I can arrange some extra goodies for you from the production staff." Desiree offers, knowing that getting him treats of any kind usually eases Dieter's grumpiness. "You contract riders were all agreed to, but there are always upgrades we can negotiate for. I'll see what I can manage. How does that sound?"

"I better get some KitKats too." Dieter huffs, pouting because he's going to have to deal with the sass and snark, the fucking attitude of filming with you. "Lots of them."

"I'll see what extra flavors I can get imported." As his go-to candy, the list of places to procure specialty KitKats and country-exclusive flavors is one Desiree can navigate with her eyes closed and half asleep.

"Okay." Dieter agrees after a long moment. "Hey, uh, can you schedule me an appointment for that surgery to fix your eyes?"

"I can..." Desiree pauses in thought. "I'll have to arrange it for during filming. We won't be able to get an appointment before you have to be on location."

"Do it." He grunts, rubbing his eyes. "Can barely see the fuckin' script."

"I'll pull what strings I have to." Any weakness Dieter actually admits to is worth noting, and she pushes her plate away to pull out her iPad. The agenda she keeps coordinates both of their schedules and even though he never actually checks it, it's invaluable to her. "You should get back to the reading, Dee. I'll take care of everything." After all – that is her job.

In the bathroom, Dieter leans in and stares at his reflection in the mirror. He blows out a sigh, able to see the wrinkles that are starting to crease his face, some of the gray that is starting to creep into the scruff on the side of his face. He's fucking 38 years old in two months. He's getting old. Maybe he'll get his ears pierced.

******

"Sam." As soon as Dieter is gone from the room, you slide out of your seat to go speak to the director. He's not too green in the business, but hasn't been around enough to be jaded yet, which gives you a little hope that he can be spoken to like a reasonable person. "Can I grab you for a second?"

"What's on your mind?" He asks, reaching for his bottle of water and twisting the cap off. Hoping that this tense atmosphere that has descended over the table read is just a one off. Maybe it would count as the trouble on set and the rest of the production would roll smoothly.

"First of all, I wanted to apologize." Humbling yourself isn't exactly a bad idea considering you were half the cause of the ruckus this morning, and you offer the director an appropriate frown. "Obviously that wasn't the first impression I had wanted to make on you, and it won't be repeated. I hope you can forgive and forget?"

"For what?" Sam shakes his head. "I knew that Dieter was going to cause waves. It's one of the reasons I wanted to work with him. He's unpredictable!"

“He certainly is that.” In a way that makes your chest clench on the verge of simply caving in. “I wondered if I could ask you something, Sam? Obviously I’m coming into this late and meeting people for the first time, but the script is wonderful.” Despite what some people say, you want to add, but keep your mouth shut since you just apologized for mouthing off. “I was wondering how your production team has fleshed out. And whether or not you might have room for one more?”

Sam tilts his head thoughtfully and seems to mull it over. "You know...I do." He hums, eyes lighting up. "I'll have to ask Dieter if he wants the billing. It'll go great with the studio."

“Not exactly what I had in mind when I asked.” It takes biting the inside of your lip to keep from saying something snarky or downright disrespectful. “Unpredictable is great for an artist. But not really what you want in someone controlling the purse strings, if you know what I mean.”

Sam rolls his eyes at himself and sighs. "Yeah. I can see where that would go wrong if Dieter decides to pull some kind of stunt." He agrees reluctantly before turning his gaze on you and studies you. "I'm assuming that you want the spot on the executive production team?"

“Otherwise what’s the point in asking?” You have a good reputation and an exemplary track record, so your desire to be Dieter’s boss aside – it’s actually not a bad deal for this young director. “I can get you some references if you’re on the fence, but I can assure you ahead of time that they’ll be glowing.”

Tapping the water bottle against his palm, Sam hums. "Yeah, send me an email and I will look it over tonight, okay?" He reaches out and pats your shoulder. "How do you feel about the role? Excited?"

“I really am, yeah.” In fact, the role had endless and exciting artistic appeal before you realized who you were playing opposite. “She’s an extremely intelligent and volatile woman, and I think the audience of people who will be able to relate to her is huge. You’ve got a great picture on your hands here.” As long as Dieter doesn’t fuck it up.

"I know you will be able to bring her to life." Sam offers, his own excitement for the film shining brightly as he starts to twitch. "We are going to make it happen. That Oscar that you should have won this year."

“That’s very nice of you.” Though you do wish people would stop mentioning it. The wound is still a little fresh. “I really think we have something special here. This summer will be a lot of hard work but really worth it.”

"Well, you go get a snack and some water, I'm going to go – uh, use the restroom and we will get the table read done." Sam nods towards you and steps around you to make a hurried rush towards the bathroom.

Satisfied that you saved a conversation that might have taken a very undesirable turn, you let yourself linger at the craft services table and make another cup of coffee to go with the pastry you don’t let yourself grab. You’ll be fine until you can get out of here and have something homemade. Fewer calories that way.

"They have anything with chocolate?" Dieter asks, stepping up beside you as he surveys the table. Slightly disappointed with the options today. If this shit keeps up, he will have to ask that another caterer is brought in. There's too much rabbit food here.

“No.” Tight lipped the second you realize he’s standing next to you, your shoulders tense but you exhale slowly to try not to show it. You know damn well he’s looking for candy and that there’s chocolate in some of the pastries, but you’re not going to tell him shit. “Looks like you’ll have to survive off something other than intoxicants for at least another couple of hours.”

"Well, shit." He grunts, scratching his belly and glancing over at you. "What's got your panties in a fucking twist?" He asks when you don't even look over at him.

“Don’t for one second think you had any effect whatsoever on my panties.” You bite out, focusing on not shaking with actual anger or frustration.

"Oh but I used to." Dieter chuckles and decides that he will blow up that bridge that he had been hanging on to. "So tell me..." he leans in and smirks at you. "How's the kid?" The sarcasm is lacing every word and he chuckles again.

“Go to hell, Bravo.” Without sparing him even a cursory glance, you turn on your heel and walk away. Just because you have to work with him does not mean you have to be sociable.

"So, good?" Dieter shouts after you, grinning at the way your back couldn't get any straighter if you had a board strapped to it. You don't even turn your head and after you walk out of sight, Dieter slumps slightly, the victory not as sweet as he had imagined it would be.

Without warning you’re twenty-one again and staring at the walls of your fifth-floor studio walk up the day after he left. Up and left without a word, not even to you. The pregnancy test in the trash and the telephone that never rings both taunt you, speaking volumes without ever saying a word. “Perfect.” You grit out, knowing very well that he knows you don’t have any children. Though he doesn’t know what happened at all.

******

"Hello, gorgeous." Dieter slides into the seat beside you and flashes you a charming grin, eyes lighting up when he sees the way your eyes flutter and your lip is pulled between your teeth. "I hear from a little birdie, you are going to be my co-star." He had seen your audition and actually told the producer of the play that you were his choice for the lead.

"H–hi." God, he's even more handsome in person, is the first thought in your head when you turn your head to see the former child star Dieter Bravo sidling up to you in the theater. You had gotten here early to try to set your mind straight before the first rehearsal but now it's already hazy from his smile. "Yeah, I–I'm playing Catherine." You're playing his wife – his wife – and it even includes an onstage kiss. It's enough to have your nerves on high alert, but you're so excited.

"Your audition was good, great even." Dieter praises, twisting in his seat and making sure you feel the full force of his smile up close. His mother always said his smile was what drew people in. At least when he was younger. Now that he's in his twenties, he's going through that slump that most child actors seem to endure, hoping like hell that he can spend a few years on stage before he gets his chance to show Hollywood what he can do as an adult. "I told Danny he was an idiot if he didn't cast you."

"You liked my audition?" Fresh out of acting academia, auditioning for Broadway of all things was a longshot, but here you are. Your very first Broadway audition turning into your very first Broadway show. With the world's most gorgeous stage husband, to boot. "I...that's so nice of you! I'm just– I'm so excited for this show. A–and to work with you. It's just...it's a dream come true."

"Yeah?" Dieter grins, already sensing the crush you have on him and liking the way your shy and eager smile makes him feel. "Well, we have to make sure that we make all of your dreams come true, Bambi."

"Bambi?" You knew you looked flustered, but do you really look so ridiculous that he's calling you a deer in the headlights? The idea is completely horrifying and you bite your lip again, unintentionally making yourself look all the more innocent and sweet.

"Fuck." Dieter groans, imagining that innocent look on your face as you look up at him from your knees with his cock in your mouth. "Sweet, innocent little doe eyes." He explains, reaching out and brushing a piece of pastry off your cheek from where you had already raided the coffee cart.

"Oh." At least it's nothing bad - nothing you need to be mortified over. Though your cheeks might completely catch fire if he touches you unprompted again. You weren't expecting it and you feel like you're going to spontaneously combust. "I–um...that's very sweet. But are you okay?" Concern shines through, knitting your eyebrows together temporarily. "You swore and it sounded like...pain? Maybe?"

Are you a virgin? Dieter's eyes sparkle and he shakes his head as he grins. "No, nothing I can't handle, though I might ask you for some assistance later on." He flirts.

"Oh, of course!" Nodding before you could possibly hesitate, you're leaning toward him in your seat like there's some kind of magnet drawing you in. "Did you want to run lines after rehearsal or something?"

Chuckling, Dieter nods. "Something like that." He confides, leaning in. "Think we need to run some chemistry tests." He suggests. "You know, so we don't fumble on stage."

"Oh, of course." Chemistry tests were something you had heard about from your friends who had already gone out to LA to audition for movies, but they were rare in theater as far as you knew. Or at least they never got called that. Working with a movie star was going to be so different, you could tell already. "That–that sounds like a perfect idea. The last thing we want is to hold up rehearsals being awkward on stage, right?"

"Sooooooo." God, you are innocent and Dieter's cock twitching in his pants at how quickly you agree to his idea. "I say we do our read through, and we go get dinner." He offers. "You know…talk."

"Right." Your head bobs in total agreement, pulse quickening at the idea of it. Just because you've nursed a little crush on him for about forever does not mean anything else. This is work. Your career. You're just incredibly goddamn lucky that you get to do it – the play – with him. "Yeah, absolutely. Get a...a foundation for knowing each other, right?"

"Right." Dieter grins and bites his lip. "It doesn't hurt that I think you're very beautiful." He admits with a small wink. You are pretty, you are fresh faced but he hadn't been lying. You did have incredible potential for someone right out of your acting class.

If you spontaneously combust on that spot, it will be from that wink and that wink alone. You can barely squeak out a "thank you" without feeling like your entire face is on fire.

"Awww, don't be shy." He coos, even though he loves it and wants you to keep being shy for him. This narrow window before you get comfortable with him is very finite and he wants to enjoy it. "You and I are going to get real close."

"It's such an amazing opportunity." Maybe for him things like this are old hat, but for you? This is a literal dream come true. It flies in the face of every time your parents told you acting could never be a realistic career choice, or every teacher who had told you that you weren't enough somehow. This is the big time.

Grinning, he leans back in his seat and picks up the drink that he had managed to snag before turning his attention to you. Only taking his eyes off you when the producer comes into the room. Casually sliding his arm around you and shuffling closer as the producer starts to speak. "Here we go." He grins, knowing that this will change both of your lives.

******

The hotel they have the cast and crew booked into is right in the heart of London, tidy modern rooms with all the amenities and specifically suited to dealing with large groups of long-term guests. The kitchen does room service 24-hours a day and there is a coffee machine in your room, along with a kettle and a microwave so you can do a few things yourself. It's a suite even if it's on the small side, and you don't mind that. This is work, after all. Not a vacation. If you want to have fun during your free time you can always go out. The view, at least, is fantastic. Sitting out on your balcony to enjoy the view, you're putting off unpacking just a little bit – until the French doors of the balcony next to you open. Why is Dieter in the room right next to you?

Groaning, Dieter opens the door and stretches, making sure that he scratches his stomach as he takes in the view. "Ohhhh shit, I love London." he shouts out, grinning when a few people down on the street below look up at him.

"So much for using my balcony," you grouse, immediately shoving out of the chair and going back inside. You'll have to restrict your usage to when Dieter is passed out or on set without you.

“Oh seriously?” The movement catches his eye and Dieter turns to see you getting up and puffing up like an angry ostrich as you stomp towards your slider door. “You can’t stand to be around me?” He demands, oddly hurt by the idea. “There was a time you loved being in my presence.”

Pausing halfway through the door, you look back at him with an expression that can only be described as undisguised hurt. You had been aiming for disgust and fallen slightly short despite your best effort. "Unbelievably enough, I grew out of it."

“What would you have had me do?” Dieter asks, flapping his hands in the air. “Stay?” He had the opportunity of a lifetime. The break that made him Dieter Bravo, actor and not just Dieter Bravo, child actor. He couldn’t have risked it. Wouldn’t risk it to be trapped by an obvious scam.

Tamping down the urge to just straight out scream at him, you cross your arms over the chest and force yourself to sigh out the angry breath you took. "You could have at least said goodbye."

Dieter frowns at you, unwilling to admit that he had fumbled that. Been unable to say goodbye in his panicked state. He barely remembers packing or getting on the fucking plane. Didn’t help he was blazed out of his fucking mind. “I said I had to go.”

"You told the production team. Not me." You correct him, biting out every word like the English language itself personally offended you. "You didn't say goodbye. You didn't return a single fucking phone call, text message, or e-mail. Nothing. What if I had been pregnant?" Feeling your voice rise, you squeeze your eyes shut and shudder on another deep exhale. "You abandoned me flat and made me the butt of jokes in interviews for years. How am I supposed to forgive that?"

“Forgive me?” Dieter looks personally offended by the question. “Don’t give me some sob story, you tried to baby trap me!” He huffs at you. “Who peed on the stick for you? Mandy? That girl was always pregnant. Sold the pee sticks for $30 bucks a pop to rope whatever poor bastard was on the fence with some girl.”

"I was terrified." The anger is right back on the surface in an instant, and you hate yourself for how close to tears you are. "I was so fucking–" In love with him, that's the real end of that sentence, but you veer off course rather than ever admit that to him. "Scared that I did two whole boxes of tests and went to a doctor the day after you straight out abandoned me. It was a false positive, you son of a bitch. Six of them, to be exact. It took an actual doctor's office to tell me I wasn't carrying a bastard's baby."

The rate at which Dieter deflates would almost be comical, robe tie dragging on the ground when his entire body just seems to slump. He’s held onto the idea you were trying to trap him for years, reminding him of why he was right to leave you without another word. His father’s words ringing in his ears. “Oh.”

"Oh." Your huff of disgust could rattle windows. "Is that all you have to say?"

Dieter frowns, not capable of processing the complex emotions that are trying to creep through his mind. Long repressed feelings threatening to bubble to the surface. He bites his lip and looks up at where you are staring at him. Still fuckin pretty but no longer the innocent 21-year-old you were when he met you. “Do you want—” he licks his lips and swallows, “–to have sex with me?” He asks, lifting his brows.

"Oh, Jesus fucking Christ." It doesn't even deserve an answer and you don't give him one, just turn to walk into your room, slamming the glass door behind you so it rattles so hard it threatens to shatter.

“Fuck.” Dieter hisses quietly, staring at your door for another moment before he decides that he is way too sober to deal with this new information. His emergency stash needs to be broken into and he has a feeling he will eat three KitKats for dinner.

This whole fucking production is going to be agony, you can feel it right in the front of your skull where your migraine is forming as you dry sob on the sofa in the front room of your suite. There's no way you can face anybody tonight – not with the way you're feeling now. It's going to be room service and an early night with aromatherapy, you can feel it.

******

He’s a hell of a lot more alert than he should be, all things considered. Taking several downers last night so he could get the image of your hurt face out of his mind. Grunting as he nurses his coffee and sits in the makeup chair for his call time.

There are twice as many shots of espresso in your travel mug this morning as there should be, but you had overheard some of the production team giggling about how handsome Dieter is as soon as you opened the door to your suite and it had caused you to turn right around and brew yourself a double dose to summon the strength to face the day. Your own assistant – bless her – is walking by your side trying to tell you about the shooting schedule for the day, but you feel like you're walking through fog. "Sadie, I'm sorry," you put one hand on her arm in the elevator and offer her an apologetic expression. "Will you give me that again? I'm not myself this morning."

“Are you alright?” Concern laces her expression as she looks up from her phone. You have been a dream to work for and she cares about you. Not because of her job, but because you don’t treat her like an accessory. “You’ve seemed…off since the table read.”

“I have absolutely been off since the table read.” You can admit that to her with ease. “I’ll be okay.” It’s a small reassurance, as you rub your eyes and lean against the elevator wall. “Just…what scenes are we shooting today?”

“The big argument.” Sadie explains, wincing slightly. It’s always tense when the high emotion scenes are filmed. “They felt like it would be good considering the…tension during the table read.”

“Ah.” You nod, knowing you’ll have no trouble getting mad at Dieter at any point. They always say that drawing from personal experience is the way to portray genuine emotion — well, that will be extremely easy. “I can’t say I blame them. It makes sense to get something that big when you’ve seen the tension first hand.”

“And hopefully that will get it out of the way.” She doesn’t know why there is tension between you and Dieter, but there are already rumors swirling between the production team.

“I sincerely doubt it.” You take a sip of your coffee and look at your assistant, knowing that she has as quick and shrewd a mind as anyone you’ve ever met. She’s more than your assistant – Sadie is your right arm. She’s your friend. “You have that face.” The elevator hits the bottom floor and opens, letting the two of you out. “There’s already talk, isn’t there?”

“Some.” She admits, biting her lip. “More…speculation than anything right now. But I’m sure that someone curious will find something.” If there’s something to be found is silently hanging after her comment.

You swallow a sigh and nod, heading through the lobby with her to the hotel’s parking structure where your rental car waits. “Why don’t you drive us to set, and I’ll tell you what happened? Better you should hear it from me than some gossipy PA.”

“It’s none of my business.” Of course, she desperately wants to know, but she also knows that being vulnerable is probably the thing you hate most with others. She gets the sense you’ve been hurt badly before.

“You’ve been my assistant – and my friend – for six years, you deserve the dignity of the truth.” This is the woman who has taken care of you, shielded you, catered to you, and protected you every single day without argument or complaint. She hears every rumor and knows which ones to squash versus which ones can be stoked. She fields requests from professionals in every area of life. She’s even fended off your father when he came looking for money on multiple occasions. The truth is the least you can do. “Most people in the movie industry don’t pay attention to theater,” you begin when you climb into the little Citroen that has been supplied for you by the production company. “But that’s where I started. After NYU, I got incredibly lucky and I went right to Broadway. The—” It brings back enough memories, vivid ones, that you have to clear your throat to go on. “The male lead was from a dynasty family. He saw my audition and had me cast. And then…promptly talked his way into my bed. I was just a kid and I really didn’t know any better. But he…he always knew exactly the right words. Exactly the right touch. You would feel like you were the only person in the whole world when he gave you his attention.”

Shit. Sadie’s face falls and she sighs softly. She was a huge fan of Dieter Bravo’s when he hit Hollywood as an adult. Enough to know that it sounds exactly like him. She hadn’t put the timeline together until it was laid out for her. “And it ended badly?” The fallout from a failed romance would definitely cause acrimony. Look at Lena Heady and Jerome Flynn.

“That’s a very polite way of saying it.” You look out the window and sigh at the rainy London streets moving by. “It started that first night and kept going the whole time. Until one day before call I…I told him that I thought I was pregnant and he took off without a word. That night his understudy went on and that was it.”

“Holy shit! Are you serious?” Furious on your behalf, Sadie huffs and shakes her head. “Asshole! I hope you enjoy slapping the shit out of him today.”

“Oh, I will.” There are probably few things you will ever enjoy as much in your life. “He had the nerve to say that I tried to baby trap him.” The accusation is still ringing in your ears from last night, and you’re only glad it’s not obvious how much you cried. It’s humiliating to admit that your days of crying over that asshole aren’t over. “I was twenty-one. Having a baby would have ended my career before it could begin.”

“Jesus.” Sadie snorts, shaking her head. “I know that there was a rash of that around that time, but that’s just…cruel.”

“So you can understand why I have been a little more tense lately.” You shake your head and fold your hands in your lap, trying to refocus your energy and not wallow. “I’m sorry if I’ve unintentionally said or done something to upset you while I’ve been distracted.”

“Not at all.” You were probably the best boss she could have ever asked for and in turn, she is highly protective of you. Anyone who wanted to paint you in a negative light would have to hear from her. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that.”

“That’s very kind of you.” Of course it is. Sadie is an inherently kind person who takes absolutely no shit. It’s one of the things you loved about her right from the day you interviewed her. “I don’t know anything about his assistant, but it might be worth making friends early, if you can. He’s exactly petty enough to try to cause problems and he might use them for that.”

She smirks and looks over at you as if you are behind the curve. “We had drinks last night.” She informs you. “So I’m already on that.”

“Oh yeah?” If Sadie ever outgrows you as a client you’ll be damned upset about it. She really is the best. “What kind of poor suffering idiot does he have working for him?”

“His agent suffers no fools and knows exactly who her client is.” Sadie chuckles. “His assistant is very sexy, very gay and would probably do well working as a dominatrix if being Dieter’s assistant didn’t pan out.”

“Gay, huh?” That makes you huff a laugh under your breath, assuming it wasn’t done by accident. A lesbian would never have any interest sleeping with Dieter - making it the smartest possible choice. “Sexy in general or sexy your type?”

“Sexy as in definitely my type.” Sadie confirms with a grin. “She’s got Dieter down, so apparently a lot of his bullshit is just bluster. She says he’s a needy, surprisingly emotional, manchild.” She snorts. “Who talks about Bambi in his sleep.”

“What did you just say?” It’s a good thing that she was pulling up to a stoplight anyway, because Sadie slams on the brakes of the car in surprise and jolts both of you forward. “Did you just say Bambi?”

“What? Something wrong?” Your reaction is far stronger than amusement about a Disney movie. “She just said he cries about Bambi in his sleep, then refuses to talk about it and makes sure to get really blazed right after.” She huffs. “Maybe he dreams about his mother getting shot by a hunter.”

“I—um—” all of a sudden your throat has run dry and your head feels like it’s spinning. “He cries?” You ask, almost afraid to have it confirmed.

“That’s what she said.” The light turns green and she cautiously starts driving again. “Why? Does Bambi mean anything?”

"It–" Your voice wavers with uncertainty, making you pull in on yourself in a way you haven't done for years before this week. "I don't think I have to remind you that there are things you know about me that no one else in the world does."

“Of course.” This will be filed under Tell No One, apparently. A standard NDA is in place, but this is personal. “Not a word to anyone.”

"That's..." After not breathing a word of it to anybody for years, it feels disorienting to talk about. "That's what he called me...Bambi."

“Shit.” Sadie’s eyes widen and her head whips around to stare at you in shock. “You don’t think— no.” She shakes her head. “You think that he’s dreaming about you?” She asks quietly.

"I don't think anything." You murmur, slumping slightly in your seat as she pulls back into traffic to head to the studio. "But if his assistant brings it up again, will you try to remember what she says?"

“I’m planning on having dinner with her tonight.” She reveals and nods. “I’ll try to bring it up casually and tell you what she says.”

"Don't ruin your date with my bad decisions." If Sadie has actually found someone to spend time with despite her crazy schedule - which is your fault - and who understands how demanding her job is - also your fault - then you don't want to sully it with your own concerns.

“Are you kidding?” She laughs. “Talking about her boss’s antics is something she relishes.” She snorts playfully. “Especially since I’m an assistant too.”

"Have fun and don't break any NDAs," you huff a small laugh, glancing at her as she drives. "I'll look forward to some room service and Netflix tonight. You deserve to have fun."

“Why don’t you go out?” She suggests. “We are in London. Go to some pubs. See some sights.” It’s not a wild suggestion, but she doesn’t want you to feel trapped in your room.

"I guess I could." It would save you from being in the room right next door to Dieter for whatever naïve production assistant he talks into sleeping with him. You turn to watch Sadie again before batting your eyelashes at her hopefully. "Could I ask you to load some money onto an Oyster card for me today and tuck it into my wallet so I can go out after filming if I'm up to it?" It will save you from having to hang out at one of the machines, and moving quickly means you're more likely to blend in and not be recognized, although it is an extra stop for her to have to make today.

“Done.” Sadie will take care of that just as soon as she gets you into hair and makeup. Knowing that you will feel better when you go out and see some things that will interest you. Get away from Dieter. “I will even come up with a map to show where to go for some things you will like.”

"You're an angel." She really does take such impressively good care of you, it's unbelievable. "Put your dinner tonight on my credit card, okay? Take her someplace over the top, even if you have to use my name to get the reservation."

“Thanks.” She pulls into the parking lot where trailers and tents have been set up. The production team has been working around the clock to get everything ready and she sighs. “Well, now you just have to survive the first day.”

"Think happy thoughts for me." With a sigh of your own, you haul yourself out of the car and double check that you have everything before waving goodbye and heading for your trailer.

******

Dieter has his eyes closed, murmuring his lines to himself as Monique, a goddess of a makeup artist, finishes his look for the scene. Peaceful now that he’s had his coffee, he leans back in the chair with a small sigh.

You had desperately been hoping that he would already be done in the hair and makeup trailer before you went in, but when you open the door he's right there with his eyes closed and that stupid slappable smirk on his face and you bite back a sigh. "Good morning." Focusing on the fact that the production was amenable to bringing your own makeup artist along for the production, you give Rivkah a hug. "Ready to do this?"

"Absolutely." Rivkah gives you a brilliant smile and smirks over at where Dieter is sitting. "It won't be hard this time, huh?" She teases quietly as she starts to pull your hair back and pin it so that not a single strand will get in her way.

"Today might not be." You'll flip through your pages one more time while you're in the chair, but this fight scene is going to be a doozy. Thrown furniture, punching holes in walls, and throwing each other around a little in addition to the slap means that this scene will be the only thing you film today and that you'll have a stunt coordinator on sight, but it will be worth it to get some of this tension out.

"Ohhhhh don't lie." Dieter cracks one eye open and points it towards you. "You know you're looking forward to it."

"Slapping you?" You clarify dryly without even looking over at him. "I'm practically giddy about it."

"Mhmmm." Dieter hums knowingly and closes his eyes again. "Have to make sure I don't get too excited." He jokes, knowing that he doesn't actually like to be slapped around. He doesn't even like it when he stubs his toe. Pain isn't his idea of a good time. "Might need some breaks."

"I promise not to make Monique's job any harder than it already is." It only adds insult to injury that Dieter grew from a handsome and charismatic young man into an even more attractive and charming adult, but you know that the version of himself he presents to the camera is only one dimension of the man. He had been comfortable enough with you back then to let you see more than just that side of him, which had been one of the things that convinced you then that you truly had feelings for him. Now, it just means that you can bruise his ego a little with only a few words.

Dieter huffs, frowning slightly and then remembering the wrinkles in the mirror, immediately tries to relax his face. Hurt by the implication that he was hard to make look good, especially when you used to coo over him and tell him how fucking sexy he was. "Least your tits aren't saggy." He shoots back. "Get 'em done?"

"On what planet would I answer that?" There's no keeping the annoyance out of your voice, but at least you don't huff at him. "You'll never find out either way." But you do make a mental note to talk to the intimacy coordinator about modesty garments. Hopefully the director won't want to show too much skin.

He snorts, nearly about to remind you that he has seen everything, but he doesn't. Despite his reputation as a dick sometimes, he would prefer to keep that memory private. "Your loss, toots." He dismisses you, settling back into his chair and smirks up at Monique. "She thinks I'm pretty, don't you?"

"Of course, Dee." Monique smiles, coaxing Dieter's chin back into a straight line so she can finish his hair. She's worked in films and television for a decade and with Dieter for almost all of those years. She knows better than to express an actual opinion. Although, in this case, Dieter is handsome.

"See?" Almost as if it was validation, Dieter settles back with a smug smile on his face. "God I love your fingers in my hair." He moans softly. "I could sleep like this. Could I pay you to do that? Play with my hair while I sleep?"

"Not my line of work, unfortunately." It does make Monique laugh, though. A small chuckle from the middle of her chest. "Might make a bit more money if it was, though."

It's all you can do not to react, and you bite the inside of your lip hard while Rivkah starts brushing your hair. The sound of Dieter moaning shouldn't produce such a visceral reaction twelve years later, but apparently it does. That is embarrassing.

"Yeah you would." Dieter sighs out, stretching his legs and flexing them slightly. "God, I hate that trainer." He complains, massaging his thigh gently and hissing at the soreness. "You would think I would sleep better but noooo."

"Calprofen?" Monique gestures to the little kit under her work station that you have to assume is a first-aid kit. Everybody in this room knows he routinely takes things that are much stronger, but not one of you is going to provide it for him.

"Nahhhh." Dieter reaches into his pocket and pulls out an unassuming bottle of aspirin. "I've got some fuckin' Aleve here." Unlike his normal pill bottle, this one is simply the pain reliever. He makes it a point to not pop anything while he is on set. It's unprofessional in his opinion.

When you snort derisively in your chair beside him, it's a knee jerk reaction and not a calculated insult. There's no way what's in that bottle is just naproxen. Not with what you've heard about his pill popping or the obvious smell of pot that emanated from his hotel suite all last night.

Pausing, Dieter stares in the mirror at you for a second, glowering before he pops the Aleve in his mouth and grunts at the uncoated pill. He knows that the other illicit pills he takes aren't coated, but they make him feel a hell of a lot better than Aleve does.

"So, Riv." You shift your attention in the mirror to chat with the woman who has been doing your hair and makeup for almost everything for the last five years. "Planning to do or see anything fun while we're shooting? You always like London."

It's oddly insulting that you ignore him, making him sit back in his chair and cross his arms over his chest. Almost done with hair and makeup so he can go to costuming. Silently listening to you and your artist talk while he pouts.

It’s not that you don’t notice. You notice every second of it. The childish pout of a grown ass man who isn’t getting the attention he wants, so you keep denying him on purpose. Except it doesn’t feel nearly as good as it should, because there is an echo of Sadie’s voice in your head as she tells you that he cries for Bambi in his sleep and dopes himself to forget it. And now it’s guilt crawling in your belly instead of ugly satisfaction.

The second that Monique pats his shoulder, the signal for him being done, Dieter shoots out of his chair. Spinning around and reaching for her to kiss her cheek. "You are a goddess." He praises softly, giving her a wink. "One day, one day you'll give in." He teases playfully. He asked her to sleep with him years ago when they first met and she turned him down. He will joke about it, but he's not pushing for it. "Thank you, love."

“Go on and get dressed,” she shoos him out with affection, years of working together giving her an affection for the man that has grown into respect. When he leaves, though, she sits down in his recently emptied chair for a second before scurrying to clean up.

Why do you have to be working on this movie? Dieter curses his luck as he walks through the sea of trailers that have been set up, hands shoved in his pockets so he doesn't rub his face. He's gone twelve fucking years without having to deal with you face to face unless you count that one afterparty that he had spotted you across the room. Unsure of why he feels so goddamn guilty about the way your eyes had glazed up last night, as if you were telling the truth. You weren't. You are an actor. A fucking phenomenal one at that. You lie for a living and you had been lying about that. There had never been a baby. He reminds himself of that and shakes his head, eager to get today's filming in the can so he can go back to his room and get blitzed.

******

“Come in!” The knock on your dressing room door isn’t unusual, especially since you like to get to the theater early to go over your script and meditate before doing your hair and makeup and getting into costume. You’ve just turned the kettle off and poured an enormous cup – okay, bowl – of tea when the sound comes loudly and clearly from behind you.

"Heyyyyy." Dieter pokes his head into your dressing room and grins at you. "You busy?" He asks, raising his eyebrows and pushing inside the room because he knows you aren't. You always invite him in.

“Not too busy for you.” You immediately put down your brush and turn around to face the door when he comes into the room. Sure you saw him just this morning, but you have a day job that you go to in between waking up in his bed and coming to the theater each night.

"Mmmmm." Walking over towards you, Dieter leans in and drops a lingering kiss on your lips. "How was work?" He asks, knowing that you hate your serving job, but it helps pay the bills. He was lucky enough that the residuals from his work as a child paid for his apartment.

“Awful.” A little pout earns you another kiss, and you immediately move over to sit on the little loveseat in the corner with him. “Some lady accidentally spilled her screaming hot coffee all over me after giving me a bunch of attitude and then she laughed to her friends about it and didn’t tip a single cent.”

“Bitch.” Dieter huffs, annoyed with the woman on your behalf and shakes his head. “Hopefully you spit in her food.”

“Dee.” There’s a stray curl on his forehead and you smooth it away as you shake your head. “You know I would never do that.”

“I know.” He closes his eyes and leans in, pressing his forehead against yours. “You’re so good.” He huffs, as if it’s wrong that you are. You’re definitely better than he is but he also likes that about you.

“Only sometimes.” The tone in your voice is fully suggestive, as silky and sexy as you can manage without ruining it with a giggle. He likes that you’re a good girl, it turns corrupting you into a game.

“Other times you are very dirty.” Dieter growls, ducking his head down and nipping at your throat playfully. “My dirty Bambi.”

It earns him a reflexive little moan from you, mostly because he knows how sensitive your whole neck and shoulder area is, and you climb into his lap on the loveseat without a single moment’s hesitation. “Just for you,” you promise him, as if there ever could be anybody else.

Dieter chuckles and squeezes your ass, pulling you towards him. “God, you look so cute in this damn outfit.” He groans, knowing there is nothing especially sexy about the sweats and a tank top, but he is hard against your core.

“Dieter…” You’re a goner as soon as you feel that hardness underneath you and he knows that as well as you do. “Did you lock the door?”

“No.” Dieter huffs, kissing along your throat and pulling at your tank top, grinning when he can get his hand under it as soon as he wants. “Fuck no bra.” He breathes, happy when his hand encompasses bare tit.

“You have to let me lock it, baby.” It will mean climbing off of him for a minute, but the last thing you want is to be walked in on by your stage manager. Of course – it’s hard to focus on that propriety when he pinches your nipple just hard enough to make you squeal.

“Who cares if someone sees?” Dieter pouts when you pull away, but uses it as an opportunity to strip down. Pulling his shirt over his head before he unbuttons his jeans to push them down.

“I care.” It takes all of four steps to cross your dressing room, but when you turn back around after bolting the door, he’s already naked. “Fuck, Dee, you’re so sexy.” The expression of near-awe on your face is one he basks in. You know you’re the luckiest girl in the world that he would ever even look at you twice, those deep pangs of puppy love tell you so.

Dieter swears you are better than the best fucking drug he’s ever taken. Your near worship of him a high that he can’t replace. “Come over here.” He begs, wrapping his hand around his cock. “Do you want to have sex with me, Bambi?”

“I always want to have sex with you.” That’s been a constant truth for the last two months, and you’re not about to disguise it for a single second. Any day now he could snap out of it and realize that he deserves a hell of a lot better than you – and you’re not about to let that happen, so you snatch a condom out of your purse and drop your sweatpants to the floor on your way back over to him.

“Fuck baby.” Dieter groans as he watches you walk towards him, ripping open the foil packet with your teeth. “You are so sexy.” He praises. “So goddamn lucky.”

“Yes, I am very lucky.” Leaning back over him, you lean down to flick your tongue across the head of his cock, humming at the musky taste of precum before applying the rubber so you can climb back into his lap. “So fucking lucky you want me.”

“Not– not what I meant.” He groans, gripping your hips and pulling you closer. “Fuck, lemme have a taste.” He begs, right before he plunges his tongue into your mouth.

It’s messy and enthusiastic, like most encounters with Dieter are, and you pour a moan into his mouth while you reach between you to line the head of his cock up to your entrance, letting you sink down on him slowly. This is bliss – with this slightly weird boy and his eccentricities – but you still haven’t said out loud how you really feel about him.

Dieter’s breath bitches as you take him, closing his eyes in the sublime ecstasy of your cunt. “Shit.” He hisses, fingers digging into your skin before he slides them up to grope your tits. “Like velvet.” He groans. “Hot fucking velvet.”

“Biggest fucking dick on the planet.” It doesn’t feel like an exaggeration when it’s filling up every molecule of space in your pussy, but you have no idea if it’s true or not. Dieter knows that he’s the only person you’ve ever been with, but you’ve never said that you hope he’s the only one you ever will.

“Have you seen every dick on the planet?” Dieter still twitches and preens at your praise, rocking his hips up and pinching your nipples again.

“N—no—” Bouncing on his length takes your breath away and you love it, clinging to his shoulders desperately to hang on. “But you fill me up so full baby. It has to be.”

This was supposed to be something simple. A week, maybe a month. Something to fill his time and spark his interest…except, you have this…hold on him. The sex is spectacular and the conversations are surprisingly developed for the after coitus banter. He hasn’t moved on, instead deciding to gorge himself on you while this lasts. Trying to ignore that voice in his head that wishes it would never end. Telling him that it doesn’t have to.

These little stolen couplings in your dressing room never last long. They’re always a chase to a quick finish that has his face buried in your tits and your fingers in his hair and somebody’s hand eventually circling your clit while you ride him like a prized fucking stallion. Everything about it is perfect right down to the throaty moans that absorb into your skin and the way his cock jerks and pulses in your pussy until you both threaten to implode right there in the love seat. It’s perfect. He is perfect. And it takes everything you have to cradle his head in your hands and kiss him instead of saying it.

Dieter pants, grinning against your lips as the two of you try to catch your breaths. Happy that this has become almost automatic. He knows you well enough to touch you exactly how you need to in order to cum before he does. Most of the time. The times that he doesn't, he'll go down on you to finish you off. "You staying over tonight?" He asks, reluctant to pull away just yet. "Gonna go out with everyone tonight to have a few drinks."

“Absolutely.” His arms are tight around you and you wrap around his shoulders as you enjoy the aftershocks still making your pussy flutter every now and then. Just because these encounters are fast doesn’t mean they’re lacking in any way. “I—I may have brought some clean clothes from home…” you admit quietly, panting a little between kisses. “In case you asked.”

"Good." Dieter smirks and kisses your pulse. "But I do like when you wear my clothes too." You've had to borrow some sweats and things before, use his toothbrush. Which he usually doesn't like, but it's pretty cool with you.

“I can always accidentally forget them here and wear your clothes tomorrow.” It’s sexy that he gets a little territorial, and you’re never ever going to discourage it. “Might forget my panties, too.”

"No panties?" Dieter groans and his softening cock twitches inside you. "It's not my birthday yet." He grins and leans in to kiss you again. "Although, I'm never going to mind that."

“A dress and no panties is your favorite and we both know it.” Reluctantly climbing off of him so that he can tie off the condom, you snag another kiss from him and take your dressing robe off the hook by the door to wrap yourself up in.

“Easy access.” Dieter grins with a waggle of his brows. “You didn’t seem to mind it when I bent you over last week when we were reading lines.”

“I don’t mind it at all.” Not for one single second, and you sit back down with him again to prove it. “And I think the fact that I remembered my lines while you were fucking the life out of me should be able to go on my resume.”

“You did squeal your monologue.” He teases, shuffling his pants back up and leans back against the couch to offer you a spot to snuggle against you. “Think you should deliver it just like that.”

“Only for you.” The coo in your voice is just for him, too, but you don’t mind that. He’s reached a part of you that is just indescribable and you never want it to end. “That’s a Bambi Special.”

“Hmmmm.” Dieter grins and wraps his arm around you and turns to kiss your forehead. “Now, where do you want to block from today?” He asks seriously. “I think scene two needs a little work, don’t you?”

“That was my fault.” You’d fumbled last night and you know it, making you frown down at your hands – knowing that he deserves a better lover and a better scene partner than you are is humbling. Thankfully the recovery was quick, and there hadn’t been any critics in the house. “I’ll nail it tonight, I promise.”

“Don’t worry about that.” Dieter senses the way that you curl in on yourself. You’re a lot tougher on yourself than you need to be. “Just look me in my eyes.” He tells you, reaching out to cup your cheek. “Okay? When you stumble, look at me. I’ve got you.”

“I—okay.” You nod against his hand and swallow another apology, not wanting him to doubt you. To doubt that he can consider you an equal, even if his talent is more effortless. The problem is, staring into his eyes for one second too long, you just can’t keep your goddamn mouth shut and the woods come dripping out of it: “I love you.”

Dieter’s heart nearly stops, blood roaring in his veins and he feels almost lightheaded when he hears you say those three little words. “I love you too.” The words slip from his lips easily, almost too easily because he knows that’s what you want to hear. Even if that voice inside him tells him that it’s true, he offers you a silken smile and tugs you to him. “I love you too, Bambi.”

With a happy squeal, you practically launch yourself at him, throwing your arms around his neck and smothering him in endless kisses. That was not at all the reply you expected, but you’re thrilled to not have ruined things. You’ll make this good for him as much as you possibly can for as long as you possibly can. “You’re amazing, Dee. I’m so lucky you love me.”

“I’m the lucky one, Bambi.” Dieter promises between kisses. “Never doubt that.”

******

“You disgusting, two-timing piece of shit!” Under hot camera lights in an itchy costume with almost more Bobby pins than hair on your head, you know your eye make up is running but it works for the scene. The tears are genuine, streaking down your face as you – as your character – advances on Dieter across the tight set with fury in your face. “When you’d used me up, the bottle took my place, and at the bottom of that you found every other woman in Paris.” You’re seething, pouring every ounce of betrayal you actually feel into this moment, and when you raise your hand you know somewhere in your body that this slap will be very real. “How many other women have you abandoned for the sin of boring you, you bastard?!”

Crack.

The sound of skin on skin isn’t tantalizing at this moment, or enticing. It’s ugly, and violent, and leaves a welt on Dieter’s cheek as you crumpled in a sobbing heap like the script instructs. For a solid minute, the only sounds are your very real tears and Dieter’s sharp breathing as he deals with the pain of being hit until—

“Cut!” The director screams out across the set. “Print! One take, ladies and gentlemen!”

“OWWWWWWW.” Dieter wails, the look of fury instantly melting away into one of pain as he claps his hand over his cheek. “You were supposed to pull the slap.” He complains pitifully, his look wounded as he stares at you, “that really fuckin’ hurt!”

“Tell me you didn’t deserve it.” Your tears stop instantly, a professional even through real emotion, and you get back to your feet with dignity, still hissing at him. “Tell me you didn’t deserve it twelve fucking years later.”

He can’t say that he doesn’t deserve it, but he frowns at you. Glowering at the heat of the slap radiating as he his face throbs. “I need some ice!” He shouts to his assistant as he turns and stomps off.

Sadie appears at your side a second later with a bottle of water and a pack of tissues, and you thank her quietly before taking both to walk a few steps to your chair just behind the cameras. A perk of having an executive director credit is proximity. Access. It doesn’t matter that that didn’t feel nearly as good as you thought it would. That a loud part of you actually wants to see if he’s okay and apologize for it. It’s done now. He left, you slapped him for it. It’s done.

“Ow, ow, ow, it really hurts.” Dieter huffs as he takes the bag of ice wrapped in a towel to press his forehead. “Did she have to hit me so hard?” He complains as he rushes back to his trailer. Hurt that you would deck him in front of an entire set, he can’t deny that your performance was spot on.

“At least it was one take?” Desiree offers the only silver lining she can find as she follows behind him, shitting the door to his trailer and pulling out the bottle of anti-inflammatories so his cheek doesn’t swell up.

“Thank god.” Dieter flops down on the small sofa and shakes his head. “Otherwise I'd look like I went twelve rounds with Ali.”

“She’s dedicated to realism, I’ll give her that.” His assistant frowns, but holds out the pills and a drink to him.

“Fuck those pills.” Dieter scoffs and shakes his head. “Give me the good stuff. Or better stuff.” He doesn’t care if they technically haven’t called the day. He’s done.

“Dee…” Desiree bites her lip, still holding out the pills to him. “You still have another scene to shoot today. Two, if you do another one in one take.”

“Nope.” Dieter shakes his head. “Too bad. My face is swollen!” More than that, he doesn’t want to face those eyes of yours again. Not today, not without some chemical assistance.

“I’ll talk to Sam.” Desiree nods, recognizing a stubborn mood when she sees it, and knows that this isn’t going to go over well. It’s only the first day of filming.

“Fine.” Dieter is slightly mollified when he gets his way and looks up at his assistant. “Now where’s the other pills?”

A five second long staring match ensues before Desiree relents and goes to the trailer's smaller kitchen cupboard to retrieve the unmarked white bottle that contains Dieter's homemade cocktail of Pill Roulette. "Here." She hands it to him reluctantly. "I'm going to go talk to Sam. I'll be right back."

Watching Desiree walk out the trailer door, Dieter twists open the cap of the bottle and shakes the pill into his hand. Huffing when there’s only one pill that is what he wants, he still pops it in his mouth, it’s better than nothing.

Five minutes later she’s carefully walking back on set, wondering how badly she’s about to get screamed at for this. “Sam,” she approaches the director with feigned confidence, studiously avoiding getting pulled into any side conversations on the way there.

“Can you get Dieter here?” Sam asks as he looks up from his clipboard. “Lighting has everything set for the next scene. And good work to him for taking that slap. It looks great on camera.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” Desiree shifts on her feet, noting that you are nowhere to be found. You must have gone to make up to get cleaned up. “Unfortunately, his entire cheek is swollen now, because of it.”

“What?” Sam frowns, contemplating the shot now that he is learning that there might be a physical reaction. “How bad is it?”

“It looks bad now, but it might go down quickly.” Trying to do right by her boss and the production, Desiree tries to find a compromise. “Give him a half an hour? See if it starts to fade?”

“Half an hour.” Sam nods. “Then he needs to be on set. Some swelling won’t hurt the shot.”

“I’ll make sure he’s here.” She nods and backs off smoothly, only taking off for his trailer again at a damn run once Sam can’t see her anymore.

In his trailer, Dieter is staring at the large welt on his face, wondering when the hell you learned to hit like that. Hissing as he leans in to touch the tender flesh. “You deserved that,” he tells his reflection morosely. “You’re worthless. A loser asshole.”

Two rhythmic knocks on his trailer door let him know that Desiree has returned, and she pushes inside with a sympathetic expression on her face. "I bought you some time, but Sam is determined to go on today." She tells him, hating the expression of self-loathing she sees on his face. Frankly, she sees it far too often. Anyone would think the drugs were a self-indulgence or a carelessness on his part, but it has more to do with intense depression and self-image issues than anything else. The drugs are how he runs away from reality. "How are you feeling, Dee?"

“Sore.” Dieter grumbles, looking away from the reflection and picks up the towel wrapped ice pack again. “Let me lay down and then we’ll shoot the fuckin’ scene.” He is too introspective right now to fight. Maybe playing the character will allow him some freedom from the thoughts taking over. Give him an outlet like acting is supposed to be.

"Half an hour." Desiree moves around the space, lighting his aromatherapy candles and turning on the white noise machine that helps him drown out some of the uglier and more intrusive thoughts. "I'll be back in twenty-five minutes to get you moving, okay?"

“Yeah.” Dieter slumps down on the sofa, still in his costume of a half undone suit and closes his eyes. “Thanks.” His voice calls out softly, nearly breathless as the pill starts to mellow him out.

"Of course." She's quiet when she shuts the door behind her, but Desiree sighs to herself out in the middle of the trailers. Twenty-five minutes is enough to arrange something nice for him tonight. She'll see what strings she can pull to put together a little surprise for him.

******

Dieter is nearly asleep when the knock comes on the trailer door twenty-five minutes later. Making him groan and shake his head, not wanting to open his eyes. “Go ‘way! Still hurts.” He grunts, even as he pulls away the mostly melted ice from his face.

"Let me take a look." His assistant insists, coming inside with a KitKat and a bottle of kombucha. His health really is an enigma sometimes.

“How bad is it?” Dieter asks, fearing that he might be wearing that handprint for the scene. “Maybe it’ll be good right? My character is supposed to be angry with her.”

"It's definitely pink, but I think Monique can dim that a little." It was a hell of a slap, and Desiree bites the inside of her cheek to keep herself from babying him or exclaiming too much. She really does like the man, otherwise working for him would be insufferable. "The worst thing is that your eye is bloodshot, but that's okay."

“Shit! Seriously?” Dieter bolts off the sofa to run for the mirror again. Groaning when he sees the tiny bloodshot vessels of his eyes. “Fuck, she hit me hard.” He huffs, shaking his head. “Is that going to affect my lasik?” He demands, looking back as Desiree anxiously.

"Your appointment isn't for two days," she assures him, not wanting to see the pout that will surely form on his face. "You'll be just fine by then."

“It better not.” Dieter huffs, already annoyed at the idea of using his precious few days off recovering from eye surgery, but it’s better than not being able to see shit.

"I made you a dinner reservation for tonight." Hoping to perk him up a little and give him something to look forward to, Desiree had hunted down a fairly elusive supper club that catered to artists and eccentrics as well as anyone who had the money to mingle with them. "I know you were bummed that you didn't get to go to Dashiell's last time we were here, but they had an 8 o'clock reservation open for tonight." The place is incredibly unique, offering a staged performance during dinner, followed by a live band and dancing for those who are interested, and a litany of art supplies for those who would rather sit and observe the dancers. The walls are littered with the art of patrons who have drawn, sketched, or painted the dancers and diners on previous nights. The catch, because of course there is one, is that the tables are all served sociably family style. Every table is for four, and if you go alone you'll be seated with strangers. But it's a great place to see and be seen, and Dieter is a spectacular artist.

“Good.” Dieter bobbles his head, immediately buoyed by that news. “Maybe I can get laid. I need that, I’m tired of my hand.” He huffs, feeling the need for someone to show him some attention, give him some affection. Even if it is fake.

"You usually don't have any trouble with that." The sigh of relief that Desiree breathes is silent but very real, and she offers her boss a smile. "I'll take you over to hair and make up and then I'll run back to the hotel to get you something nice to wear tonight. Sound good?"

“Fuck.” That brings a pout to his lips. “I have to dress up.” The desire to get laid outweighs the annoyance with dressing up. He can put on less than comfy clothes to get what he wants.

******

Sitting in your chair in the makeup trailer, you're really trying your best to maintain composure in the face of how emotional the last scene was and manage your conflicting feelings over how it went. Rivkah is getting you cleaned up and retouched with Sadie sitting nearby, and your angel of an assistant has even grabbed you a hot cup of herbal tea and honey to soothe your voice after all that screaming. The last thing you need is to be hoarse.

Dieter flings the door open to the makeup trailer, halfway inside before he realizes you are in the chair beside his. Stopping short and immediately looking towards Monique, not wanting to see the satisfaction gleaming in your eyes. “Can you do something with this?” He asks, gesturing to his face as he sits down and twists away from you.

"Of course." She's already been told what happened, of course, and what scene she needs to have him ready for, but she gives him a kind smile. "We'll have you looking rugged and intense in no time."

“Good.” He doesn’t glance over at you, twisting open his drink and taking a gulp of it before he puts it between his thighs so he can open his KitKat.

Rugged and intense? You manage not to laugh at it, but you had no idea that Monique was a miracle worker. There's the ghost of a remark on your lips to Sadie, but you catch her grinning down at her phone and nearly giggling, and your expression softens. "You talking to her?" You ask, not saying who in case Dieter would object to your assistants spending social time together.

“Yeah.” Sadie glances up and then slides her gaze over to Dieter. She bites her lip and then opens her texts to you. His face was swollen and bright red. Desiree said he looked like an Oompa Loompa with the makeup streaked over the welts.

You glance up at her and back down at your phone, hating the twisting in your gut and chest. It didn't feel nearly as satisfying as I hoped, you write back.

Sadie frowns, biting her lip as she sighs. Maybe satisfaction will come when you show him you aren’t the girl he thought you were.

Maybe. I hope so. The short reply comes with a nod before you put your phone away and close your eyes for Rivkah to fix your eye make up. You need to be back on set shortly and you can tell already that the afternoon is going to be an internal battle.

Dieter chews on his candy bar as Monique works her magic, closing his eyes and frowning slightly as he goes over the lines in his head. Trying to channel the anger right now isn’t hard to do with the slap you had delivered.

******

An hour later on set is when it comes to a head. This drama follows the ups and downs of a married couple as their marriage and mental health starts to devolve, and it certainly includes more than one fight. Yours was filmed in one take, but Dieter’s is being done in smaller pieces as he chases you around the apartment set. The stop-and-go is exhausting with the intensity of the scene you’re doing, but it’s working. In a purely professional way, the scene is working perfectly.

Dieter, for his part, doesn’t get upset when Sam wants the close ups of his face. The mottled expressions and anger glazed eyes as he rants and rampages and generally terrorizes your character. Resetting after each one, absorbing the praise, there haven’t been any retakes, just different angles for the shifts he has in mind. This one should be the last.

Hissing, Dieter grabs you by the arms and drags you closer to his face, well aware the camera is right to his left. “I never loved you!” he bellows, spittle flying out of his mouth as he practically shakes in fury. “I never loved you.” he repeats again, not shouting this time but just as firm in that resolve as he shoves you away and drags his hands through his disheveled hair. “How could I love you? You’re nothing, less than nothing and you’ll always be nothing.”

For as real as your fury was earlier in the day, Dieter's disgust and hatred seems to build from that same, very real place of personal experience. All of a sudden you're back on the loveseat in your dressing room after finding out he was gone – frantically trying to get ahold of him with one hand clutching your belly as waves of nausea rack your body. I never loved you feels like the most honest words he's ever spoken to you and even though it doesn't indicate you should be doing it anywhere in the script, you're crying again. Silent, stricken tears roll down your face as he shoves you away and you crumple, shoulders pulling in and eyes falling open in dismay and disbelief as Sam screams "Cut!"

“That was great, so raw, so real!” Sam gushes as he rushes out, Dieter instantly deflating and doing almost a full body shake. Hating scenes like those, he wants to get as far away from those emotions as possible, especially the feeling of his character about to hit yours. It’s disgusting.

“Thanks,” he murmurs quietly, looking over at you and wondering if he should check on you. You had turned away pretty quickly.

Thank god you have the forethought to sneak a handkerchief into the pocket of your costume this time, having found one in the costume trailer that worked for the period. It's all you can do to keep your shit together and not run away sobbing, hearing Sam heap mountains of praise on Dieter for being so cold and so cruel. When you hear him ask for another angle on the shot you shudder and recoil like you'd be hit worse than you clocked Dieter this morning.

“I don’t think we should.” Dieter shakes his head. “I think it would be better to play that as one continuous scene. Especially since the rest of this is so cut.”

The way it feels like he's rescuing you after that makes you physically nauseous, and you don't turn around. You're lucky you can manage to drop yourself into a chair and lean over to put your head between your knees and breathe deeply.

“Honestly, I think that if you reshoot this scene, you’ll lose the…magic, of it.” Dieter glances back over at you and worries that you are not doing so well and he decides that he will offer Sam something else. “Why don’t we do the bathroom scene? It’s a solo scene and it would play well after this.”

"Set's not ready for that yet." Sam shakes his head, finally looking over at you and realizing that you're looking a little green around the gills. "Hey, hey, sweetheart." He drops to his knees in front of you and puts one hand on your back. "You good? A little overwhelmed?"

"I'm fine." Pity is what does it. What makes you put your handkerchief away and hold back the last sniffle, putting your head up to look your director in the eye. If you look at Dieter you're afraid you'll say or do something unprofessional. "It's just a little side effect of the jetlag, I think. My stomach's off."

“Yeah, shit, okay.” Sam nods quickly. “We’ll put a lid on today. Call it early. You did amazing and I know it was a set of heavy scenes.”

"Perfect." Without another word you're hightailing it off the set and making straight for the costume trailer with Sadie hot on your heels. "I'm going out tonight," you tell her unilaterally, not slowing down for her to keep up with you. "Need to clear my head."

Dieter is slower to follow, the rolling of his gut not one that he likes, or is used to. Desiree comes up to him eagerly, handing him a bottle of water. “I have your suit here.” She tells him, making him shake his head. “I changed my mind.” He tells her. “You take the reservation. I can’t– not after–” he breaks off, feeling uneasy about even thinking about trying to flirt and take someone back to his room after that. “I’m just going to – you take the reservation and enjoy it with whoever you keep texting.”

"Are you sure?" Her boss isn't usually one to give up on an excuse for bacchanalia, so Desiree is immediately concerned. "Do you need a comfort night?" Normally that entails indulgent take away food and an expensive bottle of something to drink, after which he may or may not paint or just stare at the walls while he goes on a journey in his own mind.

“No.” Dieter frowns, restless and unable to say exactly what he wants or needs. “I’ll just grab an Uber and wander.” He frowns again, thinking about how you had rushed off. “Hey— uh, check on her.” He motions towards your trailer. “Please?”

"You want me to—" She tilts her head in momentary confusion but shakes it off. "Uh, sure. Of course. I'll be right back."

Dieter watches her rush off for a moment before he shakes his head. Costuming will come to his trailer to collect his garments. Right now, he needs a shower to wash the icky feelings away. And maybe another round of pill roulette.

******

"If that's Dieter, you tell him to go to hell." The knock on your trailer door is unwelcome and unwanted, and you can barely stand to look Sadie in the eye right now let alone anyone else.

Rushing towards the door, Sadie has every intention of telling whoever is on the other side to go away. Until she’s greeted with the face of Dieter’s assistant. “Oh! Uh, Desiree…” She says the name loud enough that you know who is there. “Now’s not a good time.”

"He asked me to check on her." Desiree's voice is quiet when she looks up at Sadie, eyes silently communicating her concern over the request. This isn't a social call by any means, but she can sense how important it is to him.

“She doesn’t want to see him.” Sadie answers just as quietly, figuring that Desiree must not know the history between you and her boss. “But she’s tough, she’ll be okay.”

"Who is it?" Not that you really care either way, but since Sadie didn't shut the door in their face you have to assume that it isn't Dieter himself come to gloat over making you sick on set.

“It’s Desiree.” It worries her that you were so in your head that you didn’t hear her before. Testament to how shaken you are by that scene.

You're quiet for a minute before sighing. "Let her in," you decide, blotting your freshest tears on a tissue before you sit up on the sofa. "It'll attract attention if you're talking in the doorway."

Desiree slips inside and bites her lip when she sees how truly upset you are. “Is there anything I can do for you?” She asks immediately, not sure why Dieter insisted on checking on you, but he won’t be happy to learn you are in tears. She can sense that without even knowing the details.

"No." When you shake your head it makes you a little dizzy from all the buzzing in your head, so you stop right away. "No, honey. Thank you for asking, though. It was just a hard scene, that's all." The kettle in your little kitchenette goes off and Sadie steps away again, going to fix you a cup of tea while still keeping a very steady eye on the conversation. "Actually?" Your head tips up again and you try your best to smile but it falls flat. "You can have a really good time tonight. That's what you can do. Sadie works her ass off and I can only assume that you do the same."

“I– we’re going to Dashiell’s tonight.” Desiree can’t even hide her excitement at that news. “I had made a reservation for– uh, my boss, but he doesn’t feel up for that tonight.” She feels guilty for bringing him up, but it’s never a bad thing to remind people that Dieter can be sweet sometimes.

“Well that’s fancy.” You won’t hide your surprise, but Sadie is glowing when she hands you your tea and you can’t help but smile. The first time you’ve smiled in hours - maybe all day. “Have some much fun, you guys.”

“I’m not leaving you just yet,” Sadie promises, though she smiles broadly at Desiree when she thinks you aren’t paying attention. “You still thinking you’ll go out tonight?”

“I’m honestly not sure.” After that, you’re not sure if you want to forget the world exists or just melt into it and forget you exist.

“You should.” Desiree comments softly. “There’s a great little tea and sandwich shop down from the hotel.” She offers. “It’s cozy.” She had to make a list for Dieter before they even got here, knowing how varied his tastes can be.

“Thank you. I’ll remember that.” She seems far too nice to have to put up with Dieter’s bullshit twenty-four hours a day. Hopefully she’s well paid for it. After a second, you look at Desiree again and seem to summon courage out of nowhere. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.” She tilts her head curiously and wonders what you could possibly want to know. Especially since you don’t seem to like Dieter.

“I’m curious.” And you don’t mind admitting that it’s a morbid curiosity. “If you know about Bambi.”

“Bambi.” Her eyes widen and she bites her lip, curious as to how you know that name. “Dieter doesn’t talk about it.” She admits quietly. “Refuses to, gets mad if someone says something to him about it the next day.” She sighs. “Whoever Bambi is, Dieter has a lot of regrets about. Or they broke his heart. Maybe both.”

“I doubt it’s the second.” After the way he seemed to look completely through you as he growled the words in your face, it seems impossible. “Bambi was just another notch on his bedpost. Someone to keep the sheets warm while he was waiting for Hollywood to call.”

“Oh my god.” It clicks and her heart plummets to her shoes. “You’re Bambi.” She breathes out, feeling stupid for not putting it together sooner.

“I was.” You nod reluctantly. “A very long time ago.” A time that seems more and more like it belongs to someone else with every passing day.

“I’m sorry.” Desiree murmurs softly. “I don’t know what happened between you two, but I’m sorry.” Obviously it was bad, how it ended, but maybe there were some good times as well.

“Ask him.” You suggest, sitting back in your seat. “My version is bound to be different from his. But at least he still talks in his sleep.”

“I don’t know if he will tell me.” She admits quietly. “It’s like whatever happened, he’s greedily trying to keep that for himself.”

“Greedy might be the right word.” With a sigh, you look between the two women and shift over on the couch. “If you want to know, I’ll tell you the edited version. It might help with context.”

“You don’t have to tell us.” Desiree immediately blurts out, not wanting you to feel like you have to bear your soul to her. You barely know her and she’s your ex’s assistant.

"Just...whatever he says about me?" You grip your mug of tea and remain silently grateful that she didn't want to hear what could be considered incredibly good gossip. "Please take it with a grain of salt. I was very young then." Young, and oh so incredibly gullible.

“Bambi.” The nickname makes sense, and she nods. “I form my own judgments about people. He can be a handful on the best days but he–” she pauses, wondering if she should give you this information but ultimately decides you deserve it. “He’s a wreck of self loathing and desperation to be loved as he pushes people away. A rabid raccoon, if you will.”

"Rabid sounds about right." The description of him actually makes you laugh slightly, though it's more of a huff that shakes your shoulders. "Anyway, it's the age old tale of a girl and boy parting badly. That's all."

“He sent me to check on you.” She doesn’t know why that’s important for you to know about, but it seems like it is. “Make sure you are alright.”

"Are you sure he didn't send you to see how much damage he had inflicted?" It's not meant to be unkind, but you can't believe that Dieter would ever care enough to want to make sure you're okay. You'd put far more money on him wanting to make sure you were devastated.

Desiree frowns and shakes her head. “I’m not trying to change your mind about Dieter Bravo.” She promises you. “But he’s not the type of man to enjoy those scenes, but he’s not the type to check on his scene partner after either.” She draws out the scene for you. “So make of that what you will. And I’m going to tell him that you were laughing and drinking tea in your trailer when he asks.”

"Thank you, Desiree." She doesn't have to be kind, or listen to both sides of things, and she certainly doesn't have to show you any sympathy. "And really – genuinely – I hope you guys have fun tonight. Mine and Dieter's bullshit shouldn't have any effect on you guys."

“But if you need anything, don’t hesitate to call Sadie.” Desiree tells you, knowing that if Dieter calls, she will answer. It’s kind of like being a twenty-four hour babysitter for a grown up, but she’s paid really well to do it.

"I'll try not to have an emergency." You promise them both. "If it's an emergency and you don't call, I'll track you down and wallup you myself." Sadie jokes, just glad to see you smiling even a little bit after how broken you seemed coming off set.

Desiree feels like you need a hug, but she isn’t close enough to you to do that. Smiling softly and nodding. “I better go get everything done for the night so we can go.” She says after a moment. “Have a good night.”

“She seems nice.” You look to Sadie after the door closes, letting your mask of strength drop in front of the only person you fully trust.

“I think so.” She murmurs softly, giving you a concerned look. “I can cancel tonight.” She offers. “We can watch movies and eat junk with zero remorse.”

“Don’t you dare.” It’s exactly the kind of person that Sadie is, to offer to give up her night to comfort you, but you shake your head adamantly. “Dashiell’s is nearly impossible to get into and I still insist you use my card.”

Sadie hums, knowing she isn’t going to use your card for a night for herself. She doesn’t like doing that even when you insist. You are already generous enough. “Well, let me get you back to the hotel, then.” She says instead, knowing you don’t want to be here any longer than you need to be.

“I think a hot bath is in order before anything else.” And if you’re not feeling up to facing the world, you’ll just put on pajamas and crawl into that big bed and call for room service.

“I know you will enjoy that. I bought some of those bath salts you love last night.” She had planned on giving them to you today anyway so this seems fortuitous.

“You take such good care of me.” She does, and you made a promise to yourself years ago never to take advantage of her. Sadie is paid extremely well, showered with gifts, and given as much time off as you can manage to give while still maintaining a very active career. “I can’t ever thank you enough for being the best assistant in the world.”

“You make it extremely easy.” She promises with a grin and starts to gather her things to whisk you back to the hotel.

******

Almost two hours later, after a half a bottle of wine in a screaming hot lavender scented bath, you manage to get yourself dressed in clean clothes to search out the tea and sandwich shop that Desiree had mentioned earlier. If you can get your hands on any variation of a ham and Brie sandwich tonight, you’ll consider it a win.

Scratching his chin, Dieter stares at the image in front of him, his charcoal pencil tapping on the corner of the page as he studies it. The cooling jasmine tea and the extra large glass of pinot grigio ignored, along with a half eaten club sandwich. Needing to get the sight of your devastated face out of his mind.

The bell over the door chimes delicately when it opens and shuts, admitting a single person. The place is crowded but not unwelcoming, and the teenage hostess seats you without a fuss at the only empty table left in the dining room. It was good that you listened to Sadie, you decide, shifting your hands in your pockets to wrap your fingers around the thin book you brought. Just getting some fresh air will do you good, and fresh air away from Dieter will be even better.

Dieter licks his finger, smudging some of the lines to make them blurry, giving the curve of your jaw a softness that he’s always liked. Your eyes haunt him from the page. Drilling into him again and again as he can see the heartbreak in them. Making his heart burn and he reaches for the bottle for an antacid this time.

A cordial chat with the hostess stops cold when you see that the table she described as her very last is right next to Dieter fucking Bravo of all people. Your expression sours and you contemplate leaving all together but if you leave then he wins. And you’re not sure why you think that or where the thought came from but now it’s the loudest one in your head. Instead you thank the girl with a tight lipped smile and try to ignore the man just two feet away from you. You’ll have your dinner and you’ll be on your way. You’re a fucking adult, after all.

“Fuck.” He huffs under his breath, frowning down at the portrait that he is creating, putting the pencil back to the page as he isn’t quite happy with the image. It’s not what he’s seeing and he needs this. It’s cathartic, to steal a line from the half dozen therapists he’s seen on and off over the years. Mainly from the high priced drug rehab centers that he’s been to.

“No, thank you.” You respond dryly, picking up the menu that was left on the table in front of you but never looking over at him. Whatever he’s fine must be frustrating him. Good.

When Dieter is concentrating on something, he is fully emerged in it, blocking out the sounds around him as he works. Not noticing the movement as someone sits down to his right. Humming to himself when he manages to add depth to your distraught expression that was burned into him.

“Not even a pithy comeback or a bored laugh?” Putting down your menu and turning to look at him, you have a perfect – if accidental – view of what he’s doing. Your own face stares back at you from the sketchbook in his hands, tears and pain etched on the paper for his personal amusement. You see red immediately, reaching out to snatch the book out of his hands in anger, hissing “What the fuck?!” in the process.

Dieter jumps, startled out of his tunnel vision and his first reaction is annoyance. “What the fuck!” He hisses, glaring at whoever dared to touch his sketchbook as he whirls around and sees you. His face freezing and mouth dropping open in shock. “Oh– fuck–” he frowns in confusion as you glare at him. “What? What are you–”

“What the fuck is this?” You demand, clutching the sketchbook in two hands and keeping it just far enough out of his reach that he has to answer you if he ever has a prayer of getting it back. “Immortalizing the memory, are we? Planning on framing it to laugh at on a rainy day? I knew I should have hit you harder.”

He gapes at you like a fish, the surprise of you being in front of him along with the drugs he had taken making it take a little longer to comprehend what you are saying. Until he finally realizes you are accusing him of sketching your pain as some kind of sick thrill. “Give that back.” He hisses, reaching for it but he is out of reach, still sitting in his chair.

“No!” No way in hell are you going to let him keep this grotesque image, and you reach to tear the page out immediately. Hell, if this place had a working fireplace, you’d toss the whole book in it out of disgust. Except…once the page is out and in your hand, the ones remaining flap and you catch a glimpse of another sketch. Another sketch of you. “What the fuck is this?” Your hair is in an old style in this image – a style you haven’t worn since you were very young – and you swallow a sickening amount of bile as you start to flip through the pages. It’s you. The entire book is you. Image after image, younger versions of you as you were when the two of you met versus some others that you recognize as poses from films you’ve been in or promotional shots from red carpets or other events. They’re all you. “You have three seconds to explain this,” you bite out between gritted teeth. “Why the fuck do you have a book full of me?”

Dieter’s chair scrapes back, shooting to his feet as he lunges for the book. “Give it back!” He demands louder, not caring that people in the little shop are turning towards the two of you, chattering ignored because of the pounding of his heart and the rush of his blood in his ears. Cheeks flaming hot because you know. You’ve seen a book that no one else has seen. Ever. “Now!”

“Explain it.” Barely keeping the book out of reach, you shred two pages out of the binding indiscriminately. “What kind of a sick joke is this?” Heads are turning but you’re only seeing red, angry and devastated all over again for reasons you can’t put your finger on or analyze properly as your voice rises.

“Don’t! Fuck, don’t do that!” Dieter is frantic, panicking because of the pages you are shredding, hating that you are destroying the sketches he has spent so much time working on and looking at. Feeling like his security blanket is being stripped away from him like he was seven again and his father threw it in the fireplace and told him to ‘man up’. “Please.” He begs, breathing shallowly and feeling like he’s about to cry.

“Explain.” The demand is harsh, but the way he sounds like he might hyperventilate stays your hand from tearing at more pages. You’re angry, but you’re not trying to send anyone to the hospital.

“It’s– I just– I sketch to get the image out of my head.” Dieter’s own voice is small, quiet as he explains. “That’s it, that’s all. Just–” he swallows harshly and his outstretched hands drop to his sides. “Don’t ruin more of it.” His expression falls as he tries to shut himself off from the emotional connection to the book, knowing you will either keep it or destroy it completely in front of him.

“Why is it all me?” That’s what you don’t understand, and finally stop seething long enough to see the tears in his eyes and the slouch in his shoulders. As furious as you might be, this isn’t a fight in a script. It’s very real, and your confusion has brought you out of the angry haze long enough to see that someone has whipped their phone out. You’re being recorded. “Pay your bill.” You order under your breath, Shoving the sketchbook back at him and trying to compose yourself. “We’re going back to the hotel.” There’s no way you’re letting this go without a full explanation.

Dieter abandons the table and shuffles over the waitress, handing her his card and a murmured comment about the sandwich. His stomach is rolling as he tries to put the pages back where they were but he can’t. Swallowing down the embarrassment of you seeing this. Everyone else here, he doesn’t give a shit about. He doesn’t care about the scene, but you knowing about this makes him want to vomit.

The most you can think to do is apologize to the hostess for causing a fuss on the way out, but other than that you’re silent as you steer Dieter out of the restaurant and back up the block toward the hotel. There’s enough confusion jostling the anger in your mind that you can’t quite think straight, and the tense silence between you stretches right to the hotel elevator.

Dieter shuffles, his arm around the notebook as if you are going to rip it away from him again. Not sure what to say or why you are so damn angry at him. People draw you all the time, he sees it when he actually remembers the login for his social media accounts or he’s doing promotions for his upcoming movies. Forced promotions, because it was in the contract.

It’s not until you get him into your suite and lock the door that you can find the presence of mind to speak again, although the guilt of having him look at you like a kicked puppy is already gnawing at your insides. “Why?” You ask again, feeling your voice shake. “Do you have a sketchbook full of me?”

“Why not?” Dieter has finally hit annoyed, pissed that you destroyed his sketchbook, messed up his work. “It’s an old book.” He defends, even though he knows it’s a weak argument.

“That you kept for twelve years and decided to add to today, of all days?” His petulance isn’t exactly helping you have any sympathy, but mostly you feel…watched. Observed in a way you don’t like at all. Analyzed in a far more intimate way than a gossip column could ever manage.

“It’s not–” Dieter sighs and closes his eyes. “It’s not that old. I started it about nine years ago.” He confesses quietly. “A therapist told me that it might help.”

“Help what? Assuage your guilt?” It boggles your mind that he would ever have the need to talk about you in therapy, of all places, until you remember Desiree. “You do have guilt, don’t you?” Your voice softens perceptibly, turning curious. “That’s why you still dream about me.”

“How did you–” Dieter realizes he’s talking and snaps his mouth shut. Unwilling to give away if he had been dreaming about you or not. Instead he focuses on the why. “It helps. My brain is all fucked up.” He lets go of the book with one hand to motion to his head like he’s crazy. “She told me it could help get it out. What keeps rolling through my mind.”

“Somebody told me that you talk about Bambi in your sleep, that’s how I know.” While you won’t debate his mental health with him, you also won’t make fun of him for it. No one chooses depression or addiction. One look at his family is enough to show anyone what he’s dealing with – they’re worse than the Barrymores.

“Fuck.” Dieter’s jaw clenched and he shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter, I’m not stalking you. I just– I needed to get you looking at me like I’m a monster out of my head.”

“That doesn’t explain nine years’ worth of sketches, Dee.” It’s barely even a nickname, but it passes your lips without thinking.

“What do you want me to say?” Dieter asks, not sure what exactly you are looking for. You calling him Dee takes him back to the one fucking time he was truly happy, before he fucked it up.

“I—” Having him push back deflates you a little, and you realize you’re actually not sure. You have no clue what you want him to say. “I don’t know,” you admit quietly. And you hate not knowing.

Dieter acts like an ass, he knows this. He’s kind of proud of it most days. He is difficult and moody, ‘artistic’ as he likes to call it. But he’s broken. Full of anger and fear, begging for something to change and never being brave enough to try. “Do I feel guilt?” He asks, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Of course I do.” He huffs, unable to look at you right now while he reveals the deepest parts of himself. “Everyone I’ve ever fucking loved has left me or I’ve fucked it up. Self-sabotaged they tell me. I left the one goddamn person who made me feel normal, worth a damn, because I figured out that I was in over my head and I didn’t know how to handle it.”

“Someday you might want to tell them that.” Feeling exhausted by a day full of tension and yelling, you drop down in the nearest place to sit and grab a pillow like it was a teddy bear.

Dieter stares at you for a moment, sighing to himself and he knows that you hate him. He deserves it, but he turns around and walks towards the door of your room. Reaching for the handle, he looks over his shoulder. “I just did.” He rasps quietly and opens the door to slip out to his own room.

______ Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle

My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Dieter Bravo #Dieter Bravo x reader #Dieter Bravo x you #Dieter Bravo x female reader #Dieter Bravo x f!reader #movie star reader #lost love #one that got away #The Bubble

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storiesforallfandoms · 1 year

Text

may the best artist win ~ eminem

word count: 1754

request?: yes!

@thatonegirlthatlikesthings “Helllloooo I’ve been all in your page recently and I absolutely love your eminem stories I was wondering if I could request one with him and reader where she’s also a singer and they’re up for the same award and they make a bet between them where whoever wins gets to do whatever to other a little smut

I love you and your writing HAPPY HOLIDAYS 🤟🏽😭😭❤️❤️”

description: in which they both get nominated for the same award and decide to make it a game between them

pairing: eminem x female!reader

warnings: swearing, smut (oral, fem receiving, a little degrading but only like one mention)

masterlist (one, two)

Marshall had made it very clear throughout his career what his thoughts on the Grammy’s were. He vowed he would never return to the Grammy’s ceremony, even if he was nominated.

But then you were nominated for Song of the Year at the same time that he was. It was your first time being nominated for a big award show like that, so obviously you were excited. It excited you even more because Marshall was nominated for the same award and you liked the idea of potentially beating him after being nominated for the first time.

“There’s eight other nominees, honey, there’s no guarantee either of us will win,” he reminded you.

“You’re ruining the fun of my fantasy,” you teased. “I want to win my first Grammy after being nominated against my boyfriend. It would bring me so much satisfaction.”

Marshall raised an eyebrow at you. “Oh yeah? Want to place a bet on that?”

His question sparked your interest. “What kind of bet are we talking here?”

“If I win, you blow me in the car ride home.”

You were used to Marshall being very forward about anything sex wise, but it still took you by surprise sometimes. This was one of those times. For some reason, you didn’t expect his terms to the bet to be so outright sexual.

You crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow. “And what do I get if I win?”

“That’s up to you to decide.”

You took a moment to consider it. If Marshall was going dirty with his, then you wanted to go dirty with yours too. And you wanted it to be just as naughty as him wanting road head on the way home from the award show.

“Okay,” you said. “If I win, you go down on me in the bathroom at the arena.”

He seemed impressed with your decision. “Really? That one is a bit dangerous to try. Are you sure it’s what you want?”

“What, are you scared to do it because you know I’ll win?”

He took hold of your hand and gave it a shake. “You have a deal.”

The night of the Grammy’s came quicker than you expected. As usual, Marshall was wearing a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, a jacket and, of course, his signature Kangol hat. You decided to dress up a little, with a somewhat casual dress that came just to your knees. You weren’t concerned over dressing up too much since the two of you were skipping the red carpet anyways.

The worst part about shows like this was that the more important awards, like your Song of the Year, were left until the end of the show, meaning you had to sit through endless speeches and attempts at jokes from the hosts and presenters. If it weren’t for this bet, you’d probably ditch the rest of the show.

At least the performances were good.

When the presenters for Song of the Year came on stage, all thoughts of the bet left your mind and instead you were full of nerves. What if neither of your names were called? Or worse, what if they called your name and you embarrassed yourself while accepting the award? On live television, where everyone in the entire world would see it and it would live on the Internet for the rest of your life.

Noticing your nervousness, Marshall reached over and took your hand. You looked over at him and your nerves almost completely melted away.

You almost missed the announcer calling your name if it wasn’t for your song loudly playing from the speakers and everyone around you looking at you with joy and excitement. It took a minute for the news to register before the excitement set in. You stood from your seat and planted a kiss on Marshall’s lips before making your way to the stage. You were glad now you hadn’t wore a long dress and risked tripping on the way to the stage.

You accepted the award and managed to give a speech that actually sounded coherent through the combination of excitement and nerves you were feeling. You were sure the camera could pick up how much your hands were shaking, but you deserved it given the circumstances. You smiled one more time for the audience and the cameras as the music played you off the stage. You followed the presenters to the backstage area where other artists and producers were conversing. They cheered as you walked in, congratulating you on your win.

You were shocked when Marshall walked up to you, not even noticing that he had left your seats to come back stage. He immediately put a hand on the back of your head and pulled you into another, more passionate congratulatory kiss.

“Why aren’t you in your seat?” you asked, a little dumbly but you were too dazed by excitement and by the sudden kiss.

“I believe we had a bet,” he said. “One that you just won.”

From the minute the presentation for the award started, you had totally forgotten about the bet. You didn’t even have time to gloat to Marshall about you winning over him, nor did think to do so anyways.

But he was right. You did win the bet.

You politely excused yourselves and left the backstage area to find the nearest bathroom. You went in first to make sure no one else was there, and when the coast was clear you opened the door for Marshall to join you. The minute he stepped inside, his lips were on yours again. They were rough and full of lust and passion. Despite having lost the bet, it was like he was just as excited for this outcome as you were.

With your lips still pressed together, Marshall backed you towards the counter. He put his hands on your hips and hoisted you onto the counter, breaking the kiss for just a split second before attacking your lips again. His tongue pressed against your mouth and you opened to let him in. His tongue swirled around your mouth, connecting with yours a few times, before pulling away. You almost grabbed him and pulled him to come back, but stopped when he got down onto his knees in front of you.

You were very glad you wore a short dress.

He didn’t have to push your dress up much since it was already bunched up around your thighs. You had wore a small thong just in case you had won and this was the outcome, which was proving to be a very smart decision on your part.

You gasped as you felt two of his fingers run through your folds, already dripping from the make out session alone.

“You’re already so wet,” he noted. “Just from the idea of me going down on you? You dirty slut.”

You whimpered at the degrading name.

You watched as the bottom part of his face disappeared between your thighs. He eyes were looking up at you as he licked one like stripe from your entrance to your clit. You gasped and reached down to grip his hair. Realizing he still had his hat on, you knocked it to the floor so you could really get a good grip on him.

His hands gripped your thighs, no doubt leaving marks on the sensitive skin. His tongue made quick work of licking at your clit; quick, short strokes mixed with long, slower ones every now and then just to feel you quiver against him. Everyone knew that Marshall was good with his tongue, but you knew just how good he could really be with it.

The brushing of his beard against your inner thighs and your pussy caused a whole new wave of pleasure the run through you. You wanted to watch him while he worked - he looked so concentrated as he devoured your pussy - but your head kept lulling backwards as moans tumbled from your mouth. You knew you should be more quiet since anyone could walk past and hear you, but you weren’t really in the right mind to think about that right now. All you could think about was Marshall’s wet tongue against your swollen clit, and the coil that was beginning to tighten in your stomach.

You tried to push Marshall away. As much as you were enjoying this, you wanted him to fuck you so you could cum on his dick instead. But he resisted your attempts to move away and continued his work.

“M-Marshall, I-I’m gonna...I’m so close,” you stuttered out. “I want you t-to fuck me.”

He looked up at you again and you could tell from the look in his eyes that he wasn’t about to stop any time soon. He was determined to make you cum this way, and that determination was hot enough to set you over the edge. You threw your head back again and let out a cry in pleasure as you felt your orgasm wash over you. You held Marshall’s head in place as he continued to lick over your clit, lapping up your juices.

You rested your head against the mirror behind you and tried to catch your breath. You almost whined when Marshall finally pulled away from your sensitive core, but felt yourself becoming turned on again at the sight of him. His lips were glistening and his beard had some leftovers of your juices on it. He turned on the sink next to you and wet a paper towel in order to wipe his mouth and chin clean.

“I’m surprised you didn’t take up the opportunity to bend me over and fuck me in front of the mirror,” you commented. “I thought it would’ve been really hot to do that. I wanted to feel you inside of me when I came.”

“This was your prize for winning the bet,” he said. “I wanted you to benefit from it.”

You smiled and reached for him. He stood between your legs and gave you a more gentle kiss than the ones you had gotten earlier. You could still taste yourself on his lips, which just helped to turn you on even more once again.

“Well, now that my prize for the bet is over, why don’t you take me home and use me to your relief?” you suggested, looking up at him with the most seductive look you could manage while still coming down from your high.

Marshall smirked at you. “I like the way you think.”

#eminem #eminem imagine #eminem x reader #eminem smut #marshall mathers #marshall mathers imagine #marshall mathers x reader #marshall mathers smut #imagine #one shot #request #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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blainesebastian · 1 year

Text

golden

words: 3,355 ship: austin butler x reader summary: (anon request) “Reader who ends up seated next to Austin/his table and he’s a fan of hers she’s kinda A-List” visit here to read more about this prompt! notes: requests are back open! leave anything if you wish :) warnings: none - for anyone worried/curious, this is an alternate golden globes, so LMP is not referenced in this fic. tag list: @killerqueenfan, @karamelcoveredolicity, @elizabethrosecresswell, @gigisworldsstuff, @stylesmendeshearted, @rairaielv,

This is honestly the last place you expected to be.

You suppose your journey into stardom is as typical as anyone else’s in the industry—small starts, B side films, extras, constantly trying, consistent auditions, until someone saw you. Until you started sliding into places where you never thought you’d ever be given the chance.

You’ve had two breakout films, invited to plenty of award shows, events, red-carpets, but never the Golden Globes. That’s…that’s reserved for people who have really made it, and apparently that’s you now. Your first film was with your ex-boyfriend as a co-star, so really, any notoriety mostly went to him. He was the bigger name and didn’t share the spotlight very well. At the time it didn’t really matter to you, you were just happy to be living out your dream in being on a set.

It wasn’t until your second film that you did with your agent’s help that you realized how important it was to be recognized—how much hard work you accomplished that you deserved to be seen for. You suppose that’s the whole point of tonight, right?

It’s still surreal, no matter how many times you tell yourself that you’re actually attending the Globes. You get all dressed up in designer names, a flowing black dress that have tiny suns and moons with thin straps, sparkly but not over the top. Golden heels to match your gold accent earrings and makeup, a maroon lipstick. You’re really not trying to make any impressions on photographers or blogs, headlines—you like showing out for yourself and tonight, you just want to go and have a good time.

Maybe even win something, though you’ll be happy if you’re walking on the carpet and don’t end up tripping.

That’s another thing that you can’t seem to swallow—not only is your film being recognized, but you’re being nominated for lead actress. Just doesn’t make any sense, to be listed amongst people who have had more experiences and fruitful careers than you have. You know that everyone has a breakout year, and this is most definitely yours, but that doesn’t mean you’re not struggling heavily with imposter syndrome.

You bring a lifelong friend as a date because that makes the most sense, they’ve been by your side and a constant wall of support since the 8th grade. And besides, Sam is sturdy, he’ll make sure you’re not going to embarrass the fuck out of yourself on the red-carpet.

The whole event is as overwhelming, exciting and chaotic as you thought it would be. The carpet takes the longest, lots of questions, trivia, games to play as you stop and pose for photos, introduce Sam, and run into handfuls of celebrities that you’ve admired for years.

“My face has to be red,” You eventually say as you enter the venue, walking with your arm around his as you go to find your table, “Like—you’d tell me right? My makeup is completely worthless at this point?”

He chuckles as he gives you a onceover, “Oh yeah, you look terrible now.” He says wryly, big grin on his face. He squeezes your arm, “Stop worrying, you look beautiful. How are you gonna handle winning your award if you can’t even talk to Andrew Garfield on the red-carpet?”

You groan, tipping your head back a little. Definitely were not prepared for that—and he was as sweet and as handsome in person as you always thought he would be. You’re just lucky you remembered your name and were able to form decent coherent sentences…you can’t recall at all what you discussed but it was good while it was happening, so, you suppose that’s all that matters.

Also, “Stop jinxing me. Do you see the names I’m up against? I’m lucky I was even nominated.”

Sam rolls his eyes but not because he thinks you’re being ridiculous or because he doesn’t respect the other names. You know him—he just wants you to realize how far you’ve come and that you rank just like anyone else. It’s a nice sentiment. But right now, all you realize is that you’re far too sober to deal with the anxiety that comes with this event.

Squeezing his arm, you find your table, scooting around to the nametag that has yours on it. Sam pulls away to get some drinks and you take a deep breath, smoothing your hands down your dress, smiling at a few other people lingering around at other tables. You turn to get a good look at the stage and…actually consider what it’d be like to win, how you’d even walk there and the steps look daunting—

And of course you bump right into someone.

“God, I’m sorry.” You say at the same time he replies, “Shit, my bad.”

Looking up, your mouth goes dry and your eyes go kinda wide as you realize it’s Austin Butler. And of course you’re a fan because how could you not be? For one, he’s incredibly dreamy, especially in person. All tall, long lines, sharp frame, rings on his slender hands, bright blueness of his eyes, the fullness of his lips and the wide blonde curls of his hair. If that’s not distracting enough, you know how talented he is. Even before Elvis, all the shows and films he’s been a part of, it’s what makes this build-up so special for him tonight.

He's earned this place.

“Hi,” Austin smiles, before you can even get any other words out, “I didn’t think I’d be runnin’ into you tonight, literally,” He chuckles, “I’m a big fan.”

You blink at him because what? You are ninety percent sure you’re having some sort of aneurysm and hallucinating this whole conversation. He’s a fan of yours? “Uhm,” You laugh, “You’re one to talk, I mean Elvis was incredible. I don’t even have the proper words to describe how I felt watching it.”

He nods, dipping his head a little in a way that you can tell he’s humbled. You’ve admittedly watched him in interviews before, especially with everything that has had to do with Baz’s film. He’s somehow this mix of confidence and nerves that’s so enjoyable to watch. He’s the same person who trained his voice and studied Elvis for two to three years and then he’s somehow…surprised? When he receives compliments.

Amazing.

“Thank you,” He smiles, something more genuine, “I’ve really enjoyed your films too you know.”

You want to roll your eyes even though you’re smiling—you don’t, you swallow down the emotion, but at this point you figure if anyone brings up your movies right after receiving praise they’re just doing their civic duty in being polite.

Austin seems to sense your hesitation however, because he adds, “I’m serious—your last film especially was raw, your portrayal stuck with me for days after I saw it.”

And despite being absolutely nervous about this whole thing, that observation actually means a lot to you. Especially coming from someone like him, “Thank you.” You open your mouth to say something else when Sam comes back round the table with some glasses of wine.

Austin smiles a little and excuses himself, going to talk to Baz as he spots him coming closer to his table. Letting out a frazzled sigh, you take the wine from Sam who’s giving you that look that you don’t even need to unpack.

“Don’t,” You warn, shaking your head as you take a sip.

Sam shrugs, smiling as he sits down at the table, “Wasn’t gonna say anything…” And there’s a brief pause, until, “Other than he’s single.”

You laugh, your cheeks flushing pink at the very thought. “Stop, he’s just being polite anyways. That’s what you do at these sort of things, you small talk with people, give compliments, that sort of thing.” Besides, who knows if you would have even had a conversation if you hadn’t crashed into one another.

“Just seems like he might have been into you, that’s all.”

How…could Sam even know that from one observation? “He’s a Leo,” You mumble, “He’s into everybody.”

Your friend laughs and that makes an amused smile decorate your face as well as you shake your head and take a seat. It’s going to be a long, interesting night.

The tables are sat pretty close together and the way people are seated, if you turn in your seat to watch the stage, you’re a few inches away from where Austin is. His back would be to you if he also wasn’t situated sideways so he can watch people accept awards too. It’s kind of difficult to concentrate on anything else, your eyes meet up every so often, and Austin has become accustomed to tilting his head in your direction and whispering about something happening around the room.

It's intoxicating, the attention, the fact that you can smell his cologne, nearly feel the heat of his body from his proximity. Unfair, really. It’s nice though at the same time, because Austin clearly has that personality in which he makes anyone around him comfortable, talks to them as if you’ve known one another for a long time.

There are small breaks throughout the ceremony and the closer it gets to announcing lead actor and actress, you can tell Austin’s thoughts are beginning to drift. Taking a soft breath, you reach to pick up your wine and take a sip,

“This is your first time, right?” You ask, meaning the Golden Globes.

Tilting his head to look at you, a small smile spreads on his handsome face. “What gave it away?”

You smirk, your gaze slipping to where his hands are resting on his lap. He’s doing this thing every so often where he twists the gold ring on one of his fingers, “Because you look how I feel?”

Austin laughs lightly, moving his one hand to thread through his hair, “Fair enough.” He looks towards your table, his eyes landing on Sam, “So you uh, brought your boyfriend?”

You blink, “What? Oh, no.” Laughing softly you add, “No he’s my best friend. You brought your sister, right?”

There’s this look of understanding on Austin’s face as he nods about Sam, something deeper in the color of his eyes that you can’t quite figure out. It’s gone before you have a chance to, “Yeah, she’s a big fan of yours by the way.”

You shake your head, picking up your wine to take another sip, cheeks kissing the softest of pinks. “Stop.”

“I’m not just sayin’ that to impress you,” He smiles.

You hum in amusement, standing from your chair and smoothing your hands over your dress. “You’re trying to impress me?” And you realize the edge in your voice, the flirtation there that maybe…wasn’t there before. But you’re pretty sure you’re picking up on a particular vibe and why not run with it right?

“Maybe.” Austin smirks, his eyes looking up at you through his eyelashes and that…has to be one of the most ridiculously handsome things you’ve seen.

Definitely need this shot you’re about to offer up, “I’m gonna settle my nerves, get a shot of something. You wanna come with?” You extend both of your hands, encouraging him to take both to tug him up off the chair. Not that he needs the help, but it’s all in solidarity.

Austin raises his eyebrows, “A shot? You think that’s a good idea?”

You crinkle your nose before laughing, “It’s just one, it’s not gonna hurt anything. Probably all psychosomatic anyways.”

“Not gonna hurt anythin’?” He repeats, amused…and yet he puts both his hands in yours, standing up from his table, “Famous last words.”

So it turns out, Austin might be onto something because he has one shot with you and you end up doing two other ones without him. It’s in a span of a conversation, so it doesn’t feel completely off the rails? But you realize that with the combination of the wine, you’re definitely beginning to see everything under rose-colored glasses.

You suppose that was your intention though, wasn’t it?

It’s not like anyone else around you isn’t having a good time, that’s the entire point of tonight. You’re not gonna have to worry about walking up on stage anyways to accept an award, so you’re made in the shade. Between commercial breaks, you mingle with a few other people around your table, especially Austin’s sister who is so lovely and sweet (apparently runs in the family) and you even talk with Baz about your own films and aspirations and it’s…definitely a surreal moment.

Once you’re settled back into your seat, Sam leans over and whispers in your ear, “He’s been makin’ eyes at you all night.”

A shiver courses down your spine because you don’t need to ask your friend who he’s talking about. You try to ignore your stomach flip-flopping as you look over your shoulder and Austin’s gaze is definitely on you. Heat slipping right between your legs. He offers you a small smile before turning his attention back to who’s in front of him, continuing his conversation.

“He’s probably just making sure I don’t fall out of my chair…the man watched me take a third shot.”

Sam snorts, moving your glass of water a bit closer to your hand in solidarity. “Right.”

Whatever, right? You’re trying to unburden some of your nerves and if you and Austin want to spend the awards night kinda flirting with one another? You’re not about to put the brakes on that.

When the awards start up again, you find yourself holding your breath…and then Austin wins. You let out a sharp laugh and clap, cheering for him as he goes up on stage. You definitely turn a few heads but you don’t care, the room is spinning in a pleasant way and you meant everything you’ve thought about or said to Austin’s face about how he deserves this. His performance was nothing short of incredible.

And his speech follows in the same fashion—humble, thankful, smooth and touching.

Once he’s off the stage, he disappears for a little while, getting photos with the award and doing a small stretch of interviews. Once he’s back, he sets the award on his table and hugs Baz again, his sister, and finds his seat next to you.

“Congratulations.” You grin, curling your hair around your ear, “Practically a professional at accepting awards.”

Austin laughs, shaking his head, “Room definitely spins when you’re up there,” There’s a slight deeper twang to his voice compared to before, probably from nerves, but you couldn’t even tell when he was on stage. The picture of excitement and calm somehow all at once.

“Good thing I’m staying in this chair.”

Austin smiles a little before chewing on his lower lip, “You sure about that?”

Humming lightly at his teasing, you pick up your water to take a slow sip. You’re barely even paying attention to the lead actress roll-call…until your name is said.

You blink, staring at the stage as everyone turns around and looks at you. And there’s clapping. Oh my god. Sam reaches forward and laughs, shaking your shoulder, “Go girl! Get up there.”

You stand, almost in a daze but you’re smiling, running your hands down along your dress to smooth the fabric. Your heartbeat is definitely drumming in your ears, palms kinda clammy and okay, you can…you can do this. You run over what you want to say in your head once you’re on stage but you’ve got to get there first.

Then out of the corner of your eye, Austin quickly stands and offers his arm and you’ve never felt more grateful for that. He smiles, resting his other hand on yours as you grab onto him and he walks you to stage, making sure you can get up the steps without tripping over your dress. God, you so owe him. He doesn’t go back to his table either, he’s lingering, waiting for you to accept your award and walk back.

How is this man single? You ask yourself a few times, making sure that doesn’t accidently come out of your mouth as you accept the award and stand in front of the mic. There are tradeoffs as you stand on stage, looking out into the crowd, you manage to remember everyone you want to thank but your hands are definitely shaking.

Once the clapping starts, you take a step off stage to head in the direction of where everyone goes after they say their speeches to get a handful photos and respond to a few questions about receiving your award. You miscalculate one of the steps though, your heart pounding in your ears and throat and clutching tightly onto the Golden Globe and the room is spinning in that rose-colored way it does when you’ve had a little too much to drink.

Definitely would have bit the floor if Austin hadn’t been there. He’s quick, grabs your arm casually and walks with you towards your destination. You’re ninety percent sure most people who saw you have no idea you almost face-planted with a fancy award in your hands.

Stepping to the side once you’re out of the public eye, you look down at the globe in your hands and it just…you feel like you’re in some sort of dream sequence, no matter how long you’re staring at the weighted statue along your fingers, envelope-card with your name on it to confirm.

Will any amount of time make this feel real?

A soft laugh leaves your lips as you look up at Austin who moves to stand in front of you, sticking his hands into his pockets. “Please tell me that my speech at least made sense.”

He smiles a little, “You spoke in complete sentences, if that helps.”

God, you don’t even remember the words that came out of your mouth…and Austin seems too nice of a person to give it to you straight on whether you made a little bit of a fool of yourself or not.

Letting out a slow breath, you look down at the award before your eyes find his again. That calm sort of blue. You ignore the camera shutters, knowing that they’re capturing this interaction between you two but what else is new? Never a private moment.

“Thank you for everything,” You smile, “I definitely owe you one a few times over.” For the shot, for being so sweet and easy to talk to, for walking you to the stage, preventing an embarrassing tumble, the works.

“I’m sure you can make it up to me,” Austin replies, shrugging his one shoulder, “If you let me give you my number.”

A soft laugh slips from your lips before you nod, you’re still ninety percent sure that none of this is happening. “That was really smooth.” But you’re taking your phone out of the pocket in your dress and handing it over for him to type his number in.

Austin smirks, “Well if you think this is impressive, just wait.”

“Oh there’s more?” You tease, taking your phone back once he’s done. “Building up a lot of expectations.”

Expectations that you already know he’s going to pass with flying colors. When it’s time to get your professional shots with your award, Austin promises to meet you back at the tables, excusing himself to allow you to have your moment. You glance down at the globe and shake your head—can’t believe so much has happened at once, a complete whirlwind. You can’t wait to tell Sam about this.

Taking your phone out once your photos and questions are done, you take a selfie with your award to send to your parents and to Austin.

Y/N: you can set this as my contact photo

A few moments later your phone pings back, the same kinda selfie from Austin, posing with his globe as well.

Austin: same

You laugh, chewing on your lower lip as your cheeks kiss pink. You do just that, your stomach flip-flopping, butterflies in your chest as you think about your matching contact photos.

Definitely a golden night.

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler imagine #austin butler fic #elvis 2022 #mccall writes things

622 notes · View notes

taey0nga · 9 months

Text

nomin; little secret

warnings: sex, threesome, mentions of alcohol, drugs and cigarettes, anal sex, sex without protection (use condoms!!), violence? idk, and etc (sry im bad w this).

well english is not my first language, so sry for all the mistakes lol, i tried, hope u like it tho<3

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

Well, you and Jeno were always friends, your friendship was always very strong, mainly because it passed to your mothers too, it was always really friendship, but when you're a teenager and hormones start to manifest, sometimes it doesn't we held each other, so your friendship was different when you reached 16, one night your parents left, your mother had called Jeno to spend the night with you, and it happened, but you never went beyond kissing each other , of course at the age they were now, 20 years old, they had already had experiences, but never together.

When I said they did everything together, I meant it literally, they were even in college together now, studying the same thing.

At the beginning of the semester, they didn't knew almost anyone, they had known only one boy, Na Jaemin, cute, handsome, charismatic and funny.

You three became very close, you even flirted with Na sometimes, but Jeno was always jealous, so in order not to be uncomfortable for your little group, you avoided it, or tried to, after a situation it became very difficult not to think about him, and even Jeno with other eyes, on a club night the three of you had a moment.

You with your hands on Jaemin who danced with you in front of him.

Jeno behind you with his hands on your waist and your ass rubbing against him.

You were all drunk but you remember the three of you "making out", but you never spoke of it, you didn't even know if they remembered too, you just let it go.

Every Friday night you would get together, today would be no different.

"Let's go bitch" - Jeno says opening his door with a kick

“Damn Jeno, U scared me, I'm almost there” -you said adjusting the black skirt glued to your body- “come on, I'm ready”

The way to Jaemin's house was with beers and loud music.

“Wtf, you were brewing the beers?” - Jaemin says opening the door of his big house

"Don't get mad Nana" - you say placing a kiss on the boy's cheek and entering the house

You settled in the Jaemin area where there was a big pool and a hot Seoul night.

There you snorted lines of cocaine, drank and danced.

"Fuck" - Jeno says smiling and lifting his head from the table

“Take it easy Jeno” - Jaemin says smiling - “you will fuck your nose”

You heard the boys talking and went to them.

Soon the two began to eat you with their eyes.

You sit on Jeno's left leg.

“Jaemin doesn't know our little secret, does he? - you say looking at Jeno

“Little secret?” - Jeno says curious

You kiss him grabbing his jaw and sitting up straight on his lap, Jaemin looks shocked but excited to see this.

You start to slowly bounce on Lee's lap, he puts his hands on your waist and pulls away from the kiss.

“Our little secret baby” - Jeno smiles - “Our little secret is that shes so damn dirty, right baby?"

“You guys are insane” - Na smiles and tries to hide his small erection with his hands

"Want to see more Nana?” - you say looking at Jaemins eyes and he nods. you start kissing jenos neck

You could feel Jeno getting hard, he moves his hands under his shirt and starts to take it off, Jaemin admires the scene with shining eyes, his hands slowly go to his shorts, lowering them a little and squeezing his still covered intimacy for your underwear.

You take off Jeno's shirt.

“I'm going to fuck you really hot in front of Jaemin, since the little bitch wants to show herself to him so much” - Jeno lifts you up a little to take off your shorts and underwear, and you take the opportunity and take off your skirt and panties too

Jaemin's eyes did not stop shining, his hand squeezing her covered intimacy and then going up to remove her shirt.

Jeno kisses you passing his hand over your body and down to your intimacy, you moan when you feel his fingers sliding into your intimacy and soon after increasing the speed, Jaemin starts to masturbate watching you and Jeno.

"You're a little bitch" - Jeno takes his fingers out of you and penetrates you making you moan.

You just moan and smile starting to bounce on Jeno's cock grabbing his dark hair and pulling lightly.

"Nana, are you having fun?" - You ask increasing speed and kissing Jeno's neck.

Jeno moans low and Jaemin nods closing his eyes feeling close to coming.

"Come with us Nana" - Jeno says holding her hips and making back and forth movements.

Jaemin comes up behind you stroking your back and kissing your neck, you can feel the erection touching your back and hear Jeno laughing at the situation.

Three junkies.

The blonde starts kissing Jeno while caressing your breasts, taking one of them and squeezing it lightly.

You moan when you feel the blonde getting closer, in a few minutes you really were a bitch to the two of them, an open bitch while Jeno fucked your pussy and Jaemin your ass.

You moaned loud and unfiltered, pulling Jeno's hair and throwing your head back on Na's shoulders, a whore.

The noises were loud and clear on the porch, maybe you dreamed of having them like this, dreamed of hearing Lee moaning and squeezing you, dreamed of Na breaking your ass like he did now.

With each thrust Jeno gave you, you moved your hips more, he was so deep, and Na didn't stop being deep too, being fucked by both holes was so painful but so pleasurable.

"That little bitch, hold my dick inside you, and when I come, make your pussy swallow everything" - Jeno hits you face making you moan.

Na smiled.

"This bitch is really supporting us inside her"

You were reaching your peak, feeling your stomach flutter, the two also writhed inside you.

The scene of the three cumming at the same time was magical.

Jeno got out of you with a heavy breath and went to the small table next to the chairs to get another baggie and cigarettes.

Jaemin got off you carefully, took your shirt and gave it to you smiling as he too breathed heavily.

"Thank you nana" - you put on your shirt and sit in the chair.

The night ended with you guys taking a shower, silly hands in bed, movie, and Jeno sleeping while you choked like you always wanted on Na Jaemin.

#nct hard hours #nct #jeno #jaemin #nct smut #smut #nct angst #jaemin smut #jeno smut

118 notes · View notes

watermelonsugacry · 2 years

Note

OMG could you imagine harry or yn on hot ones, I feel like yn would kill it(I’m not sure abt harry)😭

HOT ONES

A/N: this was so fun! ty to the lovies that sent in some questions for this one 💚 (picture credits to harianadimples & harianachile !) (4.6k)

GENRE: 1dbandmember!yn

SINCE 2010 masterlist

“Hey, what’s going on everybody. This is First We Feast, I’m Sean Evans, and you’re watching Hot Ones. It’s the show with hot questions and even hotter wings. And today we’re joined by the one and only YN YLN. You might have known her as one sixth of the most famous and influential bands in history, One Direction. She’s a triple threat and an 8 time Grammy award-winning singer, song-writer, musician, and producer and we shouldn’t be surprised if she adds a couple more on her shelf with her new album Waiting Room. The no features, no skip album that’s quickly making its way to the top of the charts. YN, welcome to the show.”

“What a fookin’ intro, man,” YN laughs and plants her hands on the circular table. “Thank yeh for having me on here.”

“The pleasure is all mine. It’s an honor to have you on the show. How are we feeling today?”

“M’actually extremely terrified,” She lets out a chuckle, clasping her hands together as her eyes look over the lineup of spicy wings in front of her.

“About the wings or the questions?”

“It’s half and half for sure.”

“So how are you with spicy foods?”

“M’quite alright with them but m’bit frightened by this gorgeous array of hot sauces here. Like—” YN holds up one of the tiny, glass bottles to the camera. “—this one quite literally has a picture of a bomb on it so,” She raises her hands in defense with a shrug of her shoulders. “Take that as you will.”

...

“Mhm,” YN nods as she licks her lips. “S’quite tasty. I like that one.”

“For the record, I did see that you ate the whole wing. Do you plan on continuing that as we go down the line?”

“I don’t waste food, man,” She smirks as she wipes her hands on the red cloth.

“So let’s start off with before you came into the spotlight. It was revealed that you actually didn’t want to continue singing as a profession when you were younger, but your childhood best friend and later on One Direction band member, Louis Tomlinson, made you audition on the XFactor with him. How did this come to be?”

“He tricked me actually. Louis had told me about how he was able to get an audition for the XFactor and I was super excited for him. Getting a chance like this was all he had talked about when we were growing up. On our way to Manchester—which was like an hour or two away from Doncaster—he told me that he got me an audition too and I was gonna sing in front of the biggest audience ever. The little shit."

"But do you think you would have auditioned if it were on your own terms?" Sean inquires.

"Probably not, if m'being honest," YN shakes her head. "And that honestly me skin crawl. M'very grateful for the path that I went on and that my fans have been giving me the opportunity to continue to do what I love for the past 12 years."

...

Once YN bites off of the last piece of her next wing, she shrugs her shoulders, “These wings are really good. This is easy, bro.”

“I’m just trying to keep up with you,” Seam chuckles before finishing off his piece. “Okay, so let me brag for you for a sec.”

“Alright,” YN lets out a nervous chuckle.

“You have 8, count ‘em, 8, Grammys in the 12 years since you became a solo artist and you have another impressive 8 nominations for the Grammys 2023. One of your many wins is being producer of the year—a category you nominated for the second year in a row—which you said in a Rolling Stones article that it was probably the best award out of everything you’ve ever received in your professional career as an artist. Can you give us some insight into how that became such an important staple on your shelf?”

“Wow,” YN huffs out a smile in disbelief. Her nostrils begin to flare and she can feel the tears threatening to escape her eyes. She feels uncharacteristically embarrassed that she’s suddenly overcome with emotions. “Woah, sorry. I don’t know why I was gonna cry for a second there.”

YN looks up with a chuckle, shimmies in her seat, before she gives a single clap. “Okay, m’good. Yeah I mean, for the first couple of years of my career, I fell in love with what it takes to actually make a song, how to layer instruments and vocals, and the details you can initially glaze over when you first listen to a song. But being the only woman in a music studio full of my male band members, producers, sound engineers, and everyone—it took me a while to be confident enough to speak out about making suggestions in the process of making a song.

I learned so much by just watching in me corner of the room, then I was shown bits and pieces from 1D’s production team. And when I went onto me solo career, I was taken under the wings of kickass producers like Kid Harpoon and Tyler Johnson. Being a woman in this industry—capable of making me own music is a huge accomplishment for me as an artist and for all women who want to break out in a male dominated environment.”

“Continuing the brag streak—”

“Oh, no,” YN smiles behind her red napkin. As confident and narcissistic as she can be, she’s never been one to take a compliment—especially the way in which Sean is just throwing them out there like free candy.

“—your first solo world tour sold out in less than 4 minutes, and your current tour sold out in less than two. How was it like to come into a solo tour after touring with the rest of One Direction five years straight?”

“Well to start off, that statistic is absolutely insane,” YN lets out a laugh. “It was such a big change to do this on my own without the boys by my side on stage. I remember doing a final dress rehearsal the day before me first show and while I sat on stage and just looked out at the massive arena I was in, I began to panic. It wasn’t like I hadn’t performed in that big of a room before but I began to think what if they only bought the tickets because they were so used to the boys? Like, what if they didn’t like just me onstage or the fact that I was doing choreographed dance routines and things like that? But that all changed once I was actually on stage performing. I…I’ve never felt that type of love before.”

...

After YN tosses the bone of her next piece of chicken away and as Sean begins his next question, she stares off to the corner of the table for a second and widens her eyes. Out of nowhere, the spice level has officially been kicked up.

“You’ve also made some impressionable fashion choices that have become a staple in not only your own wardrobe but in the closets of your fanbase. From your frilly shirts from your One Direction days to becoming the female face of Gucci. From your signature 7-inch platform heels to your variety of colorful and textured opera gloves. How important is fashion in your life and how you choose to express yourself?”

YN licks her swollen lips, chuckling a bit from the spice is starting to pick up.

“Fashion wasn’t something I was super passionate about growing up. I wore a lot of dark clothing when I was teenager and when I was in the band I began to wear a lot of shirts and pinks and high heels which was a drastic change for me to say the least. I then went into a lot of changes of like—” YN moves her hand fluidly up and down in a roller coaster motion. “—I was angsty to girly girl to frat girl to comfy to leather. And when I went on this solo journey, I was embracing both a new and older side of me with more pinks and heels but putting a sexier twist to it. And now m’all trousers and blazers but m’still very much figuring out me style. All of my different fashion ‘eras’ define a different chapter of me life and I think that’s such a cool thing about fashion. Clothes don’t wear you, you wear the clothes and when you have that in mind, it can give yeh a big sense of confidence.”

YN can’t help the smile tugging on her lips from her memories of being on stage, “And it’s such an indescribable feeling being on stage for tour and just seeing a sea full of the fans in those long gloves.”

“It has officially become one of many infamous YN YLN trademarks,” Sean points out.

“I guess so,” She laughs along with the host.

...

“We have a segment on our show called Explain That Gram where we do a deep dive on your Instagram and pull interesting photos that need more context.”

“Sounds good, man,” YN nods and she reaches for the hot sauce used for this piece of chicken. "This one has like a lemony taste to it. I like it."

"Well, we have this whole set for you to take home today."

"Shut up," Her eyes widen in excitement. "No way, that's very sweet of yeh. Thank yeh so much, I appreciate that."

When Sean pulls up the first picture on his laptop, YN immediately coos at the screen.

“Wow you guys really went far back, didn’t yeh? Yeah so this was at the band’s third tour, I believe. I remember having such a shitty day earlier before the show and to cheer me up, Harry asked if I could braid his hair,” YN giggles at the memory.

She was going through a rough patch with Matthew and they had an argument right before she had to do some interviews for the day and a show later that night. Knowing how to approach her best, Harry knocked on her dressing room door to see a teary eyed YN wiping her cheeks as quickly as she could. He didn’t ask her why she was crying or try to give her comforting words right away. Instead, he repeated his question when she gave him a furrow of her eyebrows and tilt of her head.

For the last 20 minutes before they had to head backstage, Harry sat on the floor in front of the couch in between her legs. As she twisted and weaved his long hair, he kept her laughing with poor jokes and funny vines he saved on his phone.

She didn’t have time to finish the middle section of his head and when she asked him to sit back down to take the braids out, he refused and basked in the warmth of her smile. He went on stage with them on and he never saw the smile leave her face.

“I had been bugging him to let me do it ever since he decided he wanted to grow his hair out and donate it to charity. It was a very sweet thing he did for me.”

“Hehe,” YN giggles happily at the memory this picture holds for her. She sees her 20-year-old self squished in between Harry and Louis, her Ray Bands over her eyes as she smiles brightly at the camera. “So this looks like 2014 1D and if you’ve seen the footage you can tell that we are—” YN hits a higher pitch as she sings her next words, “High as a fookin’ kite. We were in Brazil and we wanted to go out exploring but there was this massive crowd of fans outside our hotel—”

“Oh, don’t touch your eyes!” Sean quickly reminds YN as she goes to wipe at her eyes.

“Ah! ‘Fank you,” She laughs and dabs at her eyes once someone behind the camera hands her a tissue. “Okay, so there were a lot of fans blocking the front of the hotel and we couldn’t have just merely walked out and got to our cars or anything. I can’t remember who suggested it but we ended up getting out through the back of a bread van. We totally went by unnoticed!”

“We’re going in that?” YN points to the back of the white bread van that’s stuffed with pillows. By the tone of her surprised voice, the hotel workers’ eyes widen, their cheeks get red and they can feel the sweat accumulating on their foreheads in fear. They didn’t want to disappoint and anger a member of the most famous band on the planet. Yet their eyes stay wide for a different reason as YN breaks out into a beaming smile. “Sick!”

She grips onto one of the back doors as she swings herself into the tiny space covered in pillows.

Louis gives one of the hotel workers a reassuring smile and a pat on the chest, “Yeh get used to it. Can I come in and cuddle you, Niall?” He teases as everyone begins to squish in together. Ben Winston is the last to come in and close the door beside him. He’s brought a camera with him to record the trip as it’s going to be a part of the many video diaries that YN can’t keep track of.

“I used to be a baker so I love being in the back of the bread van,” Harry notes like he hasn’t brought up his part-time job from his teenage years before.

“Would you give it a rest, mate,” YN groans from her squished position between him and Louis, giving him a playful roll of her eyes before chuckling along with the rest of the boys.

“I quite like it in here,” Zyan smiles happily from his corner of the van. It doesn’t take long before they can hear the hundreds of fans screaming outside the vehicle. Everyone makes a shushing noise to quiet everyone as they pass the masses of fans.

YN already gets anxious when the band has to drive through massive crowds of fans who like to bang on the windows of the Range Rovers. The boys even like to push against the thick glass to counter the weight but that doesn’t stop the anxiety rushing to her chest when it happens.

Her mind starts to race at the thought that if the fans did actually find out that they were in there, they could easily shred the tiny van into pieces.

When Harry sees her chest begin to rise up and down at an increasing weight behind his dark sunnies, he doesn’t think twice about putting a hand over hers that’s gripping the pillow in the space between them. He’s thankful for the dimly lit setting and the way she has her legs bent as it covers their tightly, intertwined hands. She discreetly follows his nonverbal instructions and inhales deeply through her nose to copying how he makes a small ‘O’ with his mouth to exhale.

“Why don’t we make this trip a little more exciting?” Zayn wiggles his eyebrows as he pulls out something from his cargo shorts pockets.

YN pushes her sunglasses up to the top of her head and squints at the tiny object between her bandmate’s fingers before she smiles in relief. She watches as Zayn brings up the rolled-up substance to his lips, flicking his thumb on the lighter before a flame appears. After starting it, he goes to pass it to Niall who immediately shakes his head. Once Louis’s taken a hit, he passes it to an eager YN.

Everyone begins to have their own side conversations and Harry feels the butterflies in his stomach threatening to escape when YN doesn’t let go of his hand.

He watches from behind his pitch dark sunglasses as she holds the blunt between her thumb and first two fingers, wrapping her lips around it ever so gently and hollowing out her cheeks. Her teeth clench together as she holds the smoke in her lungs for a couple of beats, her eyelashes fluttering at the feeling before releasing the smoke into the space above her.

“How yeh feeling, Nialler?” Ben asks and turns the camera towards Niall in hopes of not capturing what the band is doing. Especially YN as it could cause harm to her “good girl” image that fans already know isn’t fully her.

“Not good,” He mutters out.

“Yeh want me to shotgun you one, Ni? It’ll make yeh feel better.” YN asks with a teasing smile once she blows out another puff from between her full lips, passing the blunt off to Harry. As he snickers along with the rest of the band, he has to admit that he’s relieved when Niall politely declines her offer.

Once Harry has it between his lips and takes a deep inhale, he's suddenly coughing a few times into his fist.

"Woah," YN giggles and puts a hand on her bandmate's shoulder, already feeling the effects. "Maybe I should have offered you a hit instead."

Her teasing comment only makes him cough more at the intimate thought as he passes the drug to Liam.

"S'just been a while," He manages to say once he's calmed down.

"Just offering," YN smiles at him, biting down on her bottom lip as she leans her head back to the metal wall behind her.

"Well, you seem to be feeling better," Harry quickly changes the subject before he lets his hazy mind wander. He matches her position and leans his head back. A smile etches on his lips when she giggles, closing her eyes and nodding her head.

"Thanks to you," She whispers and gives his hand a squeeze. Getting into a fuzzy headspace, she doesn't think about how long she's been holding his hand or how it makes her skin tingle at his touch. Instead, she brings their hands up between them and pushes them flat against one another so their palms are together. "Woah, look how much bigger yeh hands are."

His dimples dig into his cheeks as he cheekily chuckles at her, letting her maneuver their hands together as she pleases.

"How long?" Louis asks the drivers through the wall behind him. After letting him know that they've arrived, he dramatically yells out, "Okay!"

As soon as their security teams have opened the back doors of the tiny van, everyone begins to scooch their way out.

"S'almost as big as me face!" Harry lets out a string of high-pitched giggles when YN grasps his hand in both of hers and holds it up close to her face to demonstrate her point.

“It made the experience 10x better than it needed to be,” YN laughs, reminiscing at the fun memories she had with her boys. “I just felt bad for Niall, poor thing got both motion sickness and a secondhand high.”

"Alright, last one."

“Yeah, so—” YN sucks in a deep breath through her teeth from the spicy wing she just had. “Um, this was around the time when I started to write some songs on me own, just out on a whim. This was when me manager told me that someone was interested in buying it. So that was me reaction to the news. As you can tell, I acted very professional and calm about the situation.”

...

"I must say that you're doing a really good job so far," Sean smiles at the pop star across the table. "Most would have finished their first glass of milk by now while you're still drinking water."

"I'm built different."

“It’s no surprise to anyone that you know your way around a guitar. You’ve shown off some of your favorite and unique guitars from your extensive collection over the past couple of years. From your custom-made Daisy Rock Debutante butterfly shape staple to your Fender Vintera '50s Stratocaster that was used in a plethora of ABBA’s songs. From Jimi Hendrix's 1967 Gibson Flying V to your baritone/tenor snail shaped ukulele—The Snailele. Out of the all of guitars in your care, what would you say is the coolest guitar you own and why is it your Red Special?”

YN covers her mouth as she laughs out loud while simultaneously trying not to think about the heat increasing in her mouth.

“How do you even know that? I mean, yeh asking me to pick me favorite is like choosing my favorite child. I love all me guitars and they all have a chokehold over me heart. My Red Special is just—” YN has to take in a deep breath in hopes to cool down the heat building on her tongue. “—one of the fookin’ coolest things I own. It’s a hand-crafted replica of Brian May’s guitar that he uses for literally everything and when I met him I nearly shit meself, m’not even joking. Like, that guy is fookn’ superhero, know what I mean? And when he gifted me the guitar, I saw the light, man. I literally had an outside body experience. Like I saw meself in the middle of Brian May’s dressing room as he handed me the guitar.”

“Some people buy and collect expensive cars, I have cool guitars,” YN shrugs with a content smile.

...

“Now, let’s talk about the infamous Harry Styles.”

YN nods her head towards the host, hissing in a deep breath from the hot wing she just ate. This piece has easily become one of the spicier wings so far and she can instantly tell why that is from the mention of her secret fiancé. She smirks as she raises her glass of water to her lips, “Lets.”

“So, you guys have known each other for a little more than 12 years now as you guys were in One Direction together. And on New Years 2020, it has revealed to the world that you guys were in a relationship. Now, I won’t ask for you to go into the details of your relationship but is there any particular reason as to why you guys have kept your anniversary a secret?”

“You know, from a very young age, mine and Harry’s lives have always been in the public eye,” YN licks her lips and chuckles as the burning sensation only increases the more she speaks. They don’t call this hot sauce DaBomb for nothing. “Holy shit. Think m’gonna have to take off me blazer for this one, is that alright?” YN questions, already shedding off her coat. The tattoos scattered along her arms go on display and fans can see Harry’s handwriting inked on her upper rib cage.

“Go ahead, whatever you need to do,” Sean gives her a comforting smile. “Here, I’ll even take my jacket off, too. We’re in this together.”

“I feel the support,” YN laughs but it only makes the stinging that much more intense. “M’actually starting to sweat. Oof okay umm…yeah, even the way our relationship was ‘announced’ kind of left us vulnerable, in a way.”

“What a start to the new year.”

“Exactly. And there was a time in our lives where we felt that everyone knew everything about us and it was something that just didn’t sit well with us. So to have this one piece of our lives for only ourselves just felt right. And even though I’m on social media more than he is and I post a couple of pictures of us every now and then, we definitely don’t feel that way anymore. Which feels really nice.”

“Moving onto the more professional side of your relationship with Harry, you’ve obviously worked with him during your time in the band. You were initially brought onto his production team as a songwriter for his first album, then a musician, vocal-arrangement manager, and producer for his second, and now you were all of the above plus co-lead producer for his current album, Harry’s House. You’ve also worked with big time artists like Little Mix, The Weeknd, Lizzo, and Olivia Rodrigo just to name a few. How did that initial experience help you grow as a producer and build relationships when working with other artists?”

“You’ve really done yeh research haven’t yeh?” YN giggles before going into a coughing fit, quickly bringing the red cloth over her mouth from the spicy wing. “Excuse me. Shit, sorry,” YN laughs before reaching for her tall glass of water.

“Is it finally starting to hit?”

YN takes a gulp of water, quickly licking her lips as she sniffles away the start of a running nose. Being as stubborn as ever, she shakes her head, “Nope.”

“We do have milk for you there if you need it,” Sean kindly points out and YN begins to chew on a piece of ice.

“Don’t need it, ‘fanks. Umm, oh right. Harry’s me best friend above all else and we’ve been writing together since as long as I can remember. We’ve gone through and learned about this process together for over a decade now. He’s considered one of me biggest clients and when we work together, I tell him the honest truth. I don’t like to suga’ coat shit and it’s how I work. That’s something that he knows, feel comfortable with, and respects. And there’s always that ‘something’ you learn about with every artist you work with. Like sure we can go into the studio cold turkey and make a song together but before I work with someone, I wanna take them outside of the mindset, ‘Okay, I wanna make a #1 hit single,’ and make a song that means something to them.”

YN swallows thickly, swinging her legs back and forth as she tries to get her thoughts in order from her spice-induced brain.

“With Harry, he’s sort of allowed me to explore and experiment when making music; he trusts me in that sense and as a producer, that’s the most important thing I can have when creating something as intimate as music.”

...

YN’s eyes widen when she sees Sean begin to shake the bottle, “O-oh we’re doing this?”

“It’s tradition around here to add a little bit more sauce on the last wing. Now you don’t have to if you don’t want to—”

“Seany boy, if there’s one thing yeh should know about me is that v’got a huge ego. But m’sure yeh already knew that,” YN just her hand out towards the host, wiggling her fingers while sucking in another sharp breath in hopes to ease the pain on her tongue. “Gimme that shit.”

With an uneasy sigh, YN shakes the bottle to pour some of the thick hot sauce to the last wing on the cutting board.

“Come on, YN,” YN whispers to herself. “You’re a bad bitch.”

Making sure to avoid her lips from touching the chicken as much as possible, she takes a heavy bite from the last wing.

She scrunches up her face as she chews but it turns into a pleasantly surprised expression. “Wait, what the fook that one was actually quite good. S’actually not that bad—oh shit, no nevermind.”

Sean chuckles at the rollercoaster of emotions displayed in front of him. YN gulps down as much water as she can.

“Okay, side question as you’re processing all of this: Since you have yet to reach for the milk we have for you, in your honest opinion, do you think Harry Styles could handle the range of spice that you’ve endured over the course of this show?”

YN chews and speaks around a mouthful of ice, “He can try but he wouldn’t make it past the second one.”

“Is that a little trash talk I hear?” Sean laughs.

“Listen up, baby,” YN leans her elbow on the table and points to the camera that’s solely directed on her. “I love yeh, you know I do, but you couldn’t eat any of this shit if yeh tried. Just the smell of it is gonna make your eyes water. Just looking out for you, lovie. And let’s face it, we both clearly know m’the stronger one here,” She blows a kiss at the camera and reaches for her water cup once again.

When she has the glass to her lips, she huffs out a giggle, “He’s gonna come after me for that later. Fook, s’like m’breahting fire right now.”

YN leans her forearms on the edge of the round table and balls her hands into fists to keep herself stable at the burning on her tongue intensifies.

“That last thing I wanna do before be close up shop here is play a little game of association. I’m going to throw out some stuff out to you and I want you to tell me the first thing that comes to your mind. Are you ready?”

“Hit me with ‘em.”

“Jacob Collier.”

YN scoffs and shakes her head with a smile, “A fookin’ mastermind.”

“The restaurant Danny’s Place.” YN throws her head back and laughs at how much research this guy actually did on her past. Her brain has turned into utter mush from the spicy chicken that she can’t come up with a polite, media-trained response.

“It’s still shit,” YN shrugs and she doesn’t even try to hide her smile.

“Loophole.”

“Woah,” YN’s eyes widen with a chuckle. “Oh my word. Hell yeah. Okay—you are like the best interviewer I’ve ever had in me life. Um, bitch’n.”

...

“Okay to this camera, this camera or this camera, tell the people what you’ve got going on lately.”

“Um—” YN blinks away her spice-induced tears away, sniffing and rubbing the red cloth to her runny nose. “M’currently on a world tour. So if yeh bought a ticket, I’ll see yeh lot very soon. Also, me new album Waiting Room comes out the day after tomorrow—Wait, when will this air? Well, it will be out very soon because I can’t really think straight at the moment. Erm, this show was a fookin’ piece of cake and Sean Evans is a legend.”

The Sean and the crew members behind the cameras all clap and cheer making YN laugh. Once the shoot is a wrap and the credits begin to show up at the bottom of the screen, YN gets up and out of her seat to give a hug to possibly her new favorite host.

“How often do you do this?” She genuinely asks.

“Every week.”

“You eat this spicy shit every week?” Sean nods and laughs at how wide her eyes get. “You’re a fookin’ legend, man. I mean it.”

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