#but this has just been hanging around in my head for hours now

[cevansbrat0007]

Guessing Games: A Fast Car Interlude

Summary: You accidentally trigger Ari's jealous streak. Takes place directly after the events in Guessing Games.

Warnings: Mature Themes, Implied Future Smut, Ari Being A Menace, Brat!Reader, Jealous!Ari, Innocent Flirting, Stupid Men, Manhandling, Mentions of Spanking, Discussions of Self-Image, Mentions of Lingerie, Semi-Public Sex, Allusions to Fingering, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: After a shitty week, please enjoy this completely self-indulgent fic. Part of my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

“Hey. I know this car.” You think as you come to stand in front of a vehicle on display that happens to look strangely familiar. Smoothing your hands down the skirt of your sundress, you manage a quick side-step, narrowly avoiding a collision with a small child who was too busy enjoying his ice cream cone to pay attention to where he was going. 

You’ve been wandering around Fulton County’s annual Classic Car Showcase for the better part of an hour now, and so far things were going better than you’d expected. And not only that, but you were even beginning to have fun.

“I can see why this one caught your eye.” A familiar voice muses as he comes up behind you. 

“I’m trying to figure out where I’ve seen it before. But I’m drawing a blank.” Angling your body, you reach for one of Ari’s big hands, grasping it with both of yours. “Any ideas?” 

“You really don’t recognize it?” 

“‘Fraid not.” Your lips purse as you continue to wrack your brain. 

“It’s an exact replica of The General Lee, the 1969 Dodge Charger driven by Bo and Luke.” 

“Who?” You stare up at him confused. 

That earns you a chuckle, followed by him placing a gentle kiss atop your head. “Bo and Luke. From The Dukes of Hazzard. It was a popular show back in the eighties.” He explains, brushing a stray curl away from your face.

“Oh. Got it.” You nod, pretending to understand. “Mystery solved.”

You both stand there a few moments longer – mostly so he can admire the engine, or whatever the hell you assumed he was doing. Once he’s looked his fill, it’s apparently time to move on to the next car that catches his interest. You’re seemingly content to trail behind him until you happen to spot a nearby cluster of tents. 

“Ari?” 

“Yeah, little Bird?” The rich timbre of his voice has you smiling before you even realize you’re doing it.

“I reckon all this car hoppin’ has me feelin’ a little parched.” You tell him, turning your attention to the concessions located just across the lot. “I’m gonna go fetch myself a lemonade real quick while the lines are short.”

As expected, your man responds without missing a beat. But not before leading you over to the shade so that you can continue your conversation. Which was a good thing seeing as the temperature outside was hovering around the mid-eighties.

“Well, we can’t have that now can we?” Mirroring your smile, he brings your hand to his lips so that he can kiss the ridges of your knuckles. “Let’s go get you somethin’ to drink.”

“Hey, it’s okay. I’ll go while you hang out here in the shade.” Your palms come up to rest against the hard wall of his chest. “Besides,” you continue when he opens his mouth to object. “It’s not like I’m going far. I’ll just  be right over there.”  

“Nah.” Ari swiftly disagrees, adjusting his sunglasses. “How about you wait here while I go get us both something to drink?”

“Are you sure?” 

“Yep.” He gently flicks the tip of your nose. “After all, what kinda man would I be if I left my sweetheart out here to melt?”

“I mean…if you insist.” Rising on your toes – a feat made easier thanks to your wedge heels – you plant a smooch on his bearded cheek. “Hurry back, sugar.” 

Now that he’s officially a man on a mission, Ari wastes almost no time making a beeline for the concessions. But not before issuing a stern warning to you, his curious little Bird.

“Don’t you go wanderin’ off on me, darlin’.” He growls, leaning down to tenderly peck your lips . “I expect to find you right here in this spot when I come back.” 

And then he’s gone. You barely have time to respond with a playful salute before he’s striding off in search of sustenance for you both. Leaving you alone to twiddle your thumbs while you dutifully await his return. 

Not that you minded. If anything, grateful for this brief respite from the heat. It never crosses your mind to abandon your spot in favor of looking at more cars. At least, not until you spy one that has you gasping in pure delight.

“Woah.” You breathe as you come to stand in front of the one vehicle with the power to transport you straight back to your childhood: a 1958 Plymouth Fury.  

Better known as the car from Stephen King’s novel, Christine. 

You’d absolutely loved this movie as a kid. So much so that your Uncle had bought you your own personal copy after he got tired of renting it for you weekend after weekend. Why, you must’ve seen it over a hundred times. 

But as luck would have it, your private glee is interrupted by the sound of a voice coming up behind you. 

“She’s a beaut, ain’t she?” The man asks, his southern drawl growing even more inviting when he tips his black stetson. “Restored her myself.” 

“Holy crap! It looks just like the one from the film.” You chirp, reaching out to run your fingers along the shiny finish before swiftly thinking better of it. “Sorry.” Is all you can manage as you turn to face him. “I just…never thought I’d get the chance to see it in person.”

“Well…” The dark haired cowboy admits, flashing a chagrined smile. “It’s not actually the car. But it’s pretty dang close. Took me a few years, seeing that pretty smile of yours makes it all worth it.” His smile only grows wider as he holds out his hand to you. “The name’s Russell, by the way.”

You two spend a few more moments exchanging names and pleasantries before he politely redirects the attention back to the prized vehicle in front of you. Russell invites you to ask all the questions you like, only to laugh when you eagerly take him up on his offer. 

In fact, you’re enjoying the conversation so much that you hardly notice when he slowly begins inching closer to you, his leanly muscled frame almost boxing you in. He was charming – you’d give him that much. And easy on the eyes.

Russell was the type of man who warranted a second look. Or at least he would. That is, assuming you hadn’t already been blessed with the gift of Ari Daniel Levinson. 

“You know,” He murmurs, his cool gaze warming as he boldly peruses your dress. “Something tells me this conversation would pair wonderfully with a glass of wine.” His hand reaches for yours once more. “Perhaps over dinner?”

“Oh, I’m sorry...” The shocked apology comes tumbling out of your mouth. “I–I can’t. I actually came with someone. He’s–”

“Look, I don’t wanna be too forward.” Russell smoothly interrupts, stroking his thumb along the ridge of your knuckles. “But I haven’t been able to let you out of my sight since I saw you damn near an hour ago. Honestly can’t remember the last time I came across a woman as sweet as you.”

“That’s awfully kind of you to say.” You reply, intending to let him down easy.

“I saw that fella you were with.” He continues in earnest, still refusing to relinquish his grip on your hand. “Also saw him walk off and abandon you too.” 

“He didn’t – no one abandoned anybody!” Closing your eyes, you can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the entire situation. You weren’t used to men hitting on you like this. It has you feeling way out of your depth. 

“Be that as it may, I also believe in fate.” His already gravelly voice dips an octave. “I mean, I’ve come to this showcase year after year and never once have I met someone like you.” 

“I…I’m not sure I’d go that far.” You hedge as you weigh your options. 

On one hand, you really did want to be polite. But you also needed to be firm. You already had a man in your life. A man who owned you – mind, body, and soul. Not that you’d had any say in the matter. But these days, you were well past complaining about the handsome Beast of a man you’d come to cherish.

“Think about it.” Your would-be suitor implores, giving you a gentle squeeze. “There has to be a reason our paths crossed today.” 

Alright. It was officially time to put a nail in this coffin. You open your mouth to respond, only to have someone else beat you to the punch. 

“I think it’s about time you let go of her hand.” Ari rumbles, the sound coming from somewhere deep in his chest. “Now.”

“Something I can help you with, buddy?” Russell responds without hesitation, clearly annoyed by the other man’s sudden reappearance. “Because the lady and I were in the middle of a conversation.”

“And I’m sure it was a great one.” Your bounty hunter is too busy glaring at his apparent rival to pay you any real mind. Although, he’s quick to shove a cup of what you suspect to be lemonade into your palm the second Russell releases his hold. “Too bad it’s over now. Let’s go, sweet Bird.” 

The ice in his tone is enough to make you shiver. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Ari was none too happy to find you entertaining the company of another man. But the last thing you’d expected was for him to be jealous. 

Unless you were reading things wrong. 

“I’m afraid you’re gonna have to wait, fella.” Russell surprises everyone by coming to stand almost nose-to-nose with Ari. “Because she and I were about to take the ride out for a little spin.” 

“We most certainly were not.” You try, impatiently tugging on his arm. “Ari, let’s just go.” Although, you’re not surprised when you end up being completely ignored. 

“Oh yeah?”

“Guess that’s what happens when you abandon a pretty little flower like her all alone in an empty field.” Grinning like a Cheshire cat, Russelly makes a point of poking your man in his chest. “I’m just glad I was lucky enough to be here to catch your mistake.”

Worry fills you when you see Ari simply nod along, his brawny shoulders wrought with tension. Sucking on his teeth, the bounty hunter briefly looks away as he forces himself to take a calming breath. Not that it seems to help any. 

“You know what? I get it. No, really–I do.” Ari smirks, reaching up to lightly scratch at his jaw. “I knew what I was getting into, walking into a showcase like this with a beautiful woman on my arm, wearin’ the hell out of that dress.” One thick arm wraps itself around your waist, hauling you close. “My girl turns heads everywhere she goes. She’s just too sweet to realize it.”

Tucking you behind him, your man bridges the last bit of distance between himself and Russell. And while you can’t see his face, you’re shocked when he gently lifts his rival’s hat from his head, before tossing it in the direction of his forgotten plymouth. 

“And sometimes that sweetness makes cowboys do stupid fuckin’ things.” Ari continues, sounding almost smug. But you don’t miss the danger in his tone. “Which is why I’m gonna be the bigger man right now and walk away, before I give into the urge to find out if you have what it takes to make the long drive home with a fractured arm.”

“Alright, that’s enough from you two.” You snap, finally fed up with all this male posturing. After all this nonsense, you just wanted to sit down and enjoy your drink before all the ice melted. “Russell, cool car. But I’m not interested, okay? And as for you, Ari…”

In lieu of responding, your man chooses to quirk one impatient, tawny brow. 

“You’re looking a little flushed. I think it’s time we got you outta the sun.” Grabbing his wrist, you proceed to physically drag him away from the scene. It takes virtually all your might, but you’re grateful when his legs finally begin to move.

You don’t stop walking until you reach a set of picnic tables that are far enough away from the show to give you both some much needed privacy while you hashed things out. 

“Darlin’, I can tell by your face you’re fixin’ to yell.” Ari growls, yanking his arm out of your grasp. "And I'd like to make my case before you start." His frown only deepens as he watches you perch on the edge of a bench, but not before taking a dramatic sip of your ice cold lemonade. 

It tastes divine – the perfect treat for a hot summer’s day.

“Did you really have to throw the poor man’s hat?” You ask, fanning yourself.

“Probably not. But it felt good.” He shrugs, jamming his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Should’ve stuffed his ass in the goddamned trunk while I was at it.” 

“I don’t know what you think you saw, but I was in the process of letting him down easy.”

“Could’ve sworn I told your bratty self to stay put where I fuckin’ left you.” His normally clear blue eyes glitter dangerously, letting you know that he’s pissed. “I mean, it was bad enough waitin’ in line listening to two idiots talk about which one of ‘em was gonna be brave enough to ask for your number…”

“Yeah right.” You scoff, looking up at the sky as you pray for patience.

“Roll ‘em at me one more time, baby. Swear to God.” Scrubbing a hand over his jaw, he finds himself wondering for the umpteenth time just what the hell he’d been thinking bringing you to something like this with you wearing a dress like that. “I’m just itchin’ for a reason to lift that skirt and redden your disrespectful ass.”

In Ari’s mind, you were always the prettiest girl in the room. But on a day like today? You were downright irresistible. And what made it even worse is that you honestly had no idea the effect you had sometimes – on him and damn near every other man who came into your presence.  

“You can’t talk like that!” You hiss, hoping that you weren’t being overheard. 

“And just why the hell not?”

“Because we’re in public, you Beast!” 

Rising to your feet, you set your drink on the table, deciding it might be better if you put some distance between you. Too bad Ari chooses to follow, walking you backwards until you feel yourself collide with the base of a nearby tree. His hands come to rest on either side of your head, effectively caging you in with his much larger frame.  

“I should’ve known what I was getting into the moment I decided to let you walk outta the house wearing that dress.” Ari rasps, trailing his nose along the delicate column of your throat. “I thought I was safe, even with that lacey little scrap of nothin’ you’ve got hidin’ underneath.” 

You barely manage to stifle a moan when your man captures your bottom lip between his teeth, sucking hard before releasing it with a soft pop. One of his hands leaves its purchase to settle dangerously low on your hip. 

“But I see now that’s not enough for you, is it baby?” You press your thighs together when that same hand moves once again. This time working it’s way under your skirt - his short, blunt nails dancing along your skin as his mouth hovers a mere centimeter above yours. “I’m not sure why you thought it might be a good idea to tease me like this. Not too keen on you flirting with other men.”

“I promise I wasn’t.” Your eyes flutter closed as he grinds his growing erection against the softness of your belly. “I just got excited about the car. It’s from one of my favorite Stephen King stories.” 

“Is that why I found you two holdin’ hands?” You let out a whimper when you feel the roughened pads of his fingers dig into your heated flesh, making you squirm. “Because you were excited?”

It wasn’t often that your man got riled up like this. But when he did there was almost no getting through to him until he calmed down. If you were lucky, you could typically drag him to some place quiet, away from prying eyes and listening ears.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry, sugar.” Leaning up, you press a kiss against the corner of his mouth. “I suppose I wouldn’t like it either if I saw you holding hands with a random woman. Promise it won’t happen again.” You add, weaving your arms around his trim waist after all you receive is a grunt for your trouble. 

Although you can’t help but notice that some of the tension seems to have finally left his shoulders.

“Thank you.” 

Ari allows his forehead to rest against your own as he struggles to collect himself. Wanting more, you cup his face with your hands, bring his mouth down for a much needed kiss. His eager tongue dances with yours, demanding more of your submission as the passion builds.

You’re both breathing hard when you finally come up for air. However, you realize your man’s not done. At least not yet. 

“You’re enough to drive a man insane. You know that?” He groans in between soft, yet feral kisses. “I swear I try to be progressive – I do. I got sisters. A niece.” A sound almost like a purr rumbles in his chest as he nuzzles his nose in the crook of your neck. “But I’m also man enough to admit I’ve got a bit of a jealous streak. Never was much of a problem until I met you.”

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.” You murmur at the same time as your pussy spasms, dampening your panties with your slick. 

“Good.” Ari lifts your leg, hitching it around his waist and not giving a damn about who sees. “And Bird?”

“Uh huh?” A shiver courses through you as he begins covering your exposed flesh with tiny, possessive love bites. This time you make no move to stop him. Thank goodness you’d had the foresight to pack some concealer.

“I hate to break it to you.” His mouth finds yours once more, deliberately teasing you with each sensual stroke and flick of his tongue. “But you and me, we’re not gonna make it back to Bell’s Creek tonight.”

“And w–why is that?” Your eyes threaten to roll back in your head as his fingers find your clit, toying with the swollen nub through the soaked fabric of your panties. 

“Because I’m having the damnedest time trying to talk myself out of fucking you hard and fast on the hood of my truck.” He responds with an unapologetic shrug. “But I suppose I’ll just have to settle for a hotel, huh?” Grinning, he increases the pressure on your sensitive bundle of nerves, loving the way you buck and writhe beneath his touch.

“I’ll start hunting for reservations.” You move to reach for your phone even as you feel your vision blur and your toe s curl. “But whatever you do…oh God…just please don’t stop.”’

END

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[daydreams-after-dark]

Free Use Jail Cell, Part 6

MDNI // 18+ content

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

Police Officer Skz ot8 x female reader

Premise: you're arrested and held for 24 hours by 8 police officers at the local police station / reader has her fantasy play out.

Word Count: 3.8k approx (part 6)

Chapter Summary: You are at the mercy of Chief Chan and Officer Felix.

A/n: The time has come! Finally the Aussies have their way with y/n. I know so many of you have been hanging out for this chapter, sending messages and comments, and I'm so excited to share it with you. I know it was a long time coming.

Two things I need to mention, though. The first, I forgot Minho was a detective in the last chapter and called him 'officer' (do you think he'd be a dear and punish me for my mistake?), and two, I mentioned his clothes got soaked in the shower, but nothing about him changing into dry clothes. Let’s just pretend he did.

CW below the cut.

CW: where do I start? Frisking innapropriately, vaginal and anal fingering, photographing of injuries, pinching a nipple, spanking with a belt, handcuffs, bloody lip, hole inspection, crude language about how swollen and how much it's going to hurt, spit roasting, oral sex (m rec), cum eating, cream pie, size kink, name calling (cockslut, whore, babygirl, good girl etc, multiple orgasms, brief breeding kink, rough sex, soft dom moments from Chan and Felix, double vaginal penetration, color system (all green for go ahead), aftercare, angst (you'll see why).

>>>>>>>>

The time arrives for you to finally visit the chief and one his officers, Felix.

“You sure you’re ready for this?” Minho says as he does up the last button on the oversized shirt he’d helped you into.

You nod. You’re ready, but nervous.

“Now, remember your color system, your safe word. You don’t have to do anything you don—“ he stops abruptly, coughing awkwardly as he realizes he sounds far too concerned than he should.

Flustered, he clenches his hands into fists and steps back from you.

Again, just like earlier, your heart flutters for just a brief moment, and you swallow hard. You can’t understand it. This is definitely not the context to be feeling things.

Detective Minho walks close to your side as you make your way to the Chief’s office, a protective hand on your lower back.

“Just knock and wait for them to answer.” He says stopping at the door. “Make sure you’re a good girl for them, okay?” He leans in to your ear. “I can’t wait to feel you again later.” Your eyes widen and your cunt clenches, but he walks away like he said nothing at all.

Knock knock.

You tap on the door and wait.

You only have to wait a brief moment before the door opens and you see Office Lee. Felix. He gives you a big, beautiful smile and ushers you into the office.

You’re taken by surprise when you’re immediately spun around and your chest is pressed against the wall beside the door.

“Gotta frisk you, love.” Officer Felix says sweetly. His hands are firm and deliberate as he pats over your shoulders and arms, the down the sides of your body.

“You’ll need to step a little wider, please.” He whispers in your ear.

You part your legs and his hand immediately drags up your inner thigh to cup your pussy, sending tingles through your body. You lean your head against the wall and let out a shaky breath.

“Need to do the internal now.” He says low and slips a finger deep into your heat. You squeak at the intrusion, but it turns to a low moan when he slowly drags his finger in and out of you. His fingers are expert, knowing exactly where that sweet spot is inside you. You rock back against his fingers and moan again.

“Hmm,” he says, “looks like you’re hiding a lot of creaminess here.” He reaches around, offering his cream-coated finger to your mouth. You open and let him slip it inside, pressing it against your tongue, and you suck it willingly.

“Now for the other pretty hole.” There’s a strain in his voice as he snakes his other hand underneath your shirt to find your ass. You whimper around the finger in your mouth as he presses his other against your hole.

The ring of muscle offers little resistance, and the tip of his finger pushes past the rim. Your eyes squeeze tight and your hands press into the wall to steady yourself as he begins to press his finger in further. Although your ass has already had plenty of things done to it in the last twenty four hours, the stretch still feels like a sweet mix of pleasure and pain.

With two fingers scissoring your ass, and a few shoved into your mouth, you’re on the brink of coming. You know that somewhere in the room Chief Chan is watching, even though you didn’t get a chance to see where he was.

Your moans are muffled from Felix’s fingers, and your cunt is leaking arousal down your inner thighs. You feel like a mess and they haven’t even started yet.

Your legs tremble as your pussy clenches around nothing, and you come, pathetically, just like that.

Felix removes all his fingers from your ass and your mouth, and wipes them on your shirt. “Good girl. Now we need to take photos. Come.” He grabs your arm and guides you to turn around.

This is the first time you see the room. It really does look like a Police Chief’s office, with a long, low coffee table surrounded by armchair couches.

At the far end of the room is a large timber desk, and sitting on the edge of the desk is the Chief. Chief Chan.

“Y/n.” He smiles, his eyes crinkling, his expression devilish. “Now you’re going to be a good little prisoner for us, yeah?” He stands up only to take a seat in the couch at the head of the coffee table. “Gonna let Officer Lee here take some good photos of your injuries?”

He settles into his chair. “Strip.” He commands.

Your hands tremble as you unbutton your shirt and let it fall to the floor, leaving you bare for them.

“Fuck.” Chan mutters under his breath. “So perfect.” He swallows hard. “Felix, get started.”

Felix pulls a set of handcuffs from his belt and secures them around your wrists in front of you. “I need you on all fours on the coffee table. Ass towards the Chief. He needs to see all of you.”

You climb onto the table, positioning yourself so Chan can see everything. He lets out a low hum, when he sees the red welts on your ass cheeks.

Felix retrieves a camera from a drawer to the side of the room, and begins to photograph and take note of your injuries.

“Those red welts would be from the paddling she received in the interrogation.” Felix says. Click. Click. “And this cut on her neck, was from Jeongin in the shower.” Click. Click. “Note, there’s also some minor marks on her wrists from various restraints.

“What about her nipples?” Chief Chan interrupts.

“Up on your knees, I need to check.” You rise to your knees and Felix reaches out to stroke your nipple, causing you to shudder under his touch.

“They’re a little bruised.” He tweaks the nipple between his thumb and forefinger, then pulls away to take a photograph.

You look down at your nipples to see they are in fact bruised. You hadn’t realized how hard Minho and Seungmin had those clamps attached.

Felix continues to examine your body, photographing any marks or bruises he finds along the way.

“Chief. Would you like to do the honors? Y/n, back on your hands and knees. Its time for your ‘hole inspection’.”

Fuck! The words ‘hole inspection’ hit you straight in the pussy.

“Of course. Pass me your torch. Spread her ass wide for me.” Chan says gruffly, his tone laced with arousal.

You sense Chief Chan moving behind you, and the click of the torch. With a hand on each of your cheeks, Felix spreads you wide so you’re on display. You feel a surge of heat wash over you. You’re excited, aroused, and so fucking nervous. You’re loving being vulnerable like this.

You feel a pad of a thumb on your clit, rubbing harsh circles on it. You lean your head on the table, trying your hardest not to whimper. It’s difficult though. Especially how they’re talking about you like you’re nothing but a fuck toy.

“Fucking hell, Felix. Look at how used her cunt looks.” Felix leans in for a closer look, while Chan jams a finger inside your pussy. “Her lips are swollen. So red. Rubbed raw.” He says incredulously. “Chief? How’s she gonna take both our cocks. She looks too swollen.”

“Don’t worry, Lixie. We’ll make them fit. Every inch of us both.” Chan laughs like a crazed man as he tries to spread your hole wide so can try and see inside. “Look at that! She likes the idea of it being a struggle, she’s dripping wet.”

Chan runs a finger along your wet folds, gathering your creaminess. He’s not wrong. This is one of your fantasies. Taking two huge, throbbing cocks in your tight, abused little cunt.

You bite your bottom lip, willing the intrusive thoughts about how sick you must be away, and instead try to remember Detective Minho’s words. “You’re not a sick freak”.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts when a loud harsh slap of a belt lands on your skin, hitting you where you were still tender from the paddling.

The sting is almost unbearable, and you bite down on your lip so hard you taste blood.

Another hit with the belt has you crying out, and the third strike has you sobbing loudly.

The fourth lands on your swollen pussy lips, and your knees buckle, causing you slip and land on your stomach.

Chief Chan doesn’t care, and he keeps landing more hits with the belt on your ass.

Felix gently pushes your hair off the side of you face and leans in, kissing your cheek gently.

“Remember you can use your safe word. What color are we on?” He stokes your back awaiting your answer.

Chan pauses his ministrations.

“G-g-green.” You sob. “P-please….need to c-come.” You begin to bawl your eyes out.

“Shh… it’s okay. We’ll take care of you.” Felix reassures you, continuing to stoke your back, and Chan rubs your cheeks gently, before landing three more strikes to your sore ass.

“Time to make the Chief feel good.” Says Felix. “Then we can make you feel good, yeah”. He helps you up but doesn’t uncuff you.

He turns you to face Chan who has resumed his seat in the armchair. He appears to like what he sees. You with tear streaks all down your face, and a bloody lip that’s beginning to drip down your chin, it seems to have an effect on him.

He exhales sharply, his jaw clenched and fists in tight balls on the chair arms. You know he’s going to absolutely enjoy this.

“Come. Down on your knees for the Chief.”

You kneel between Chan’s widespread legs and look up it him through your eyelashes. He leans down and wipes your lip, smearing blood across your face.

“You seem to enjoy pain.” He says low, cupping your cheek. You stare at him wide eyed, holding your breath. “Which is lucky, cos you should have seen your cunt just now. I promised Officer Felix we’d make it fit, but I’m not so sure you’re gonna be able to take it without it hurting.”

You gulp.

“Now,” His grip on your jaw tightens. “I need you to put this pretty little mouth to good use while Felix tries to pry you open a bit, yeah?”

He leans back in the chair waiting for you to begin.

You can already see he is big just from the bulge in his trousers, and when you release it from its confines you can’t help but gasp at the sight.

Enormous. So many thick, pulsing veins, and it's heavy. So fucking heavy looking.

You hold it tentatively in your still cuffed hands, giving it an experimental pump. He hisses loudly when you lean down and lick the slit of his cock head.

“I think you can do better than that.” He growls and grabs a fist full of hair on the back of your head, pushing you down over his length.

He pushes you too deep and you gag loudly around him. But he simply chuckles at your struggle and holds you there.

Felix positions himself behind you, kneeling and pressing his cock to your entrance. He holds your hips steady with one hand and pushes into you. Chan was right, you are swollen, and it is a big stretch just to accept the tip.

Chan loosens his grip on your hair, giving you the opportunity to show him what a good little girl you can be.

You sink back over his shaft, relaxing your throat to take him just that little bit more. He groans in approval and rests his head back on the couch.

Felix fills you inch by inch. It stings, yet it feels so satisfying to be stretched open. You groan, the vibrations from your mouth making Chan shudder.

Felix slams the last of his length inside you, taking you by surprise and making you choke on Chan’s cock.

He then thrusts slowly, allowing you to concentrate on pleasing Chan, but every drag of his cock inside you is bringing you closer and closer to another orgasm.

“I wish all pussies were this compliant.” Felix laughs. “This one’s opening up perfectly.”

He rolls his hips a few times, grinding against you deliciously, then snaps his hips hard, hitting your cervix brutally. He alternates between these actions, driving you crazy, sending you closer and closer to the edge.

Chan lets you do all the work on his cock, watching you drool all over it sloppily. Sucking, licking, gagging. You take as much as you possibly can into your throat. You use your hands where you can’t reach with your mouth. Every now and then he pushes your head down a little more, testing your limits.

“Fuck! She’s so tight, Chief. You wanna feel her? I’d love to come in her mouth if I’m allowed?” He thrusts into you hard. “I’m so close.”

“Mmm, yes, let me fill her little cunt with my cum, you fill her mouth.” Chan agrees.

You’re abruptly emptied of both penises and directed to straddle Chan on the couch with one foot on either side of him, and your back against his chest. He hooks his arms under your thighs and with Felix guiding Chan’s cock to your entrance, you’re lowered onto his length.

You whimper as your body stretches to accommodate him as he continues to fill you bit by bit.

You’re too full. There’s no way in hell you’re going to fit both of them at once.

Eventually, your ass meets his hips and you’re fully impaled on him.

“Fuck, yes. Such a good, tight, filthy cunt.” Growls Chan and he rolls his hips up against you while pulling you down as hard as he can.

You cry out.

“Shh now. Here.” Felix rubs the tip of his leaking cock against your check. You turn your head and open up to take him. He fucks your mouth a lot rougher than he fucked your cunt, pushing himself deeper and deeper into your throat on every thrust. It only takes a few minutes for him to cum down your throat with a pretty moan, his head thrown back.

It makes you clench hard around Chan. “Babygirl likes a belly full of cum? Good, cos she’s gonna be fed a whole lot when all the officers take her at once.” He says, pounding into you from below.

“Open up, love. Show me your empty mouth. That’s it. Good girl.” Felix is pleased when you stick out your tongue and show him just how hungry you are.

He removes the the remainder of his clothes and starts to fist his cock, working on getting it hard again.

Chan stands up, pushing you off his cock and laying you onto the coffee table unceremoniously. He folds you in half, pushing your legs up and then absolutely rams himself into you over and over.

The cold hard wood underneath you is uncomfortable on your back as you’re being fucked into it.

“You like this? You fucking little whore? Hmm? Love having a fat cock filling you up like this?” He leans down and kisses you. It’s unexpected, but you welcome it. It’s rough and harsh, just like his cock, and the pressure inside you becomes too much.

He pulls away and you look down to see just how thick and long he is, and how much he stretches and fills you. Your engorged, pink lips enveloping him as your cunt sucks him in. You whimper as your body starts to shake, and with a loud cry, you drench his cock, clenching around it, coming hard.

“That’s our girl. Yeah milk me. Milk Channie’s huge cock!” He demands as his eyes scrunch tight and he lets out an animalistic growl as he coats your insides.

He pulls away, panting, sweating, exhausted, and removes his clothes hastily.

Felix is quick to photograph the cum leaking out of you and you hold your legs up to ensure he gets a good view.

“So perfect.” He approves and sets the camera aside. “Y/n. It’s time. Let’s change positions.” He smiles and uncuffs your hands and helping you to your feet.

Chan produces a blanket from a drawer and spreads it out on the coffee table. He lays down on it and instructs you to straddle him.

Holding his cock steady, he pushes inside your still leaking cunt once again. It’s an impossibly tight squeeze, especially after your orgasm, but somehow he manages to fill you to the hilt. You both exhale sharply when he lifts you slightly and pulls you back down again.

“Come here, lean on me.” He invites you to lay against his chest and he wraps his arms around you. “You’re already choking me. I’m not sure I’m going to survive this.” He whispers against your ear.

He fucks you slowly for a few minutes, grinding up into you over and over. Meanwhile, Felix caresses your body, stroking your back, your ass and presses kisses along your back. He spreads your cheeks and curses low at what he sees.

You’re melting under their softer approach, which you know is all part of them relaxing you for what’s about to come.

“That’s it. Good girl.” Cooes Chan.

“Feels s'good.” You mumble.

“Yeah? You ready to take Officer Felix? Think you can do that for us?” He purrs.

You nod against his shoulder. “Wanna be a good girl.” You whimper.

Chan chuckles. “Yeah? I know you’re gonna be. You’re gonna take Felix like a good little cockslut.”

You feel Felix behind you, positioning himself. “Fuck, Chan.” Felix says uncertainly. “She looks so full already.”

“She’s okay, Lix. She’ll take you no matter what. Let’s fuck her brains out. Tear up her pussy.”

You moan and clench around Chan. You’re certain this man could make you come just with his filthy mouth.

You let out a low groan as Felix presses the tip of his cock at your entrance alongside Chan.

“F-fuck!” You cry when his tip pushes past the opening. “S’too much.” You pant.

“Color?” Chan says sternly.

“G-green. J-just slow, please! Slow.”

Chan holds you with one hand around your back, the other gently holding your ass, pulling the cheek aside to help give Felix access. “You guide us, yeah?”

“You ready to try for more?” Felix asks, a kindness in his voice. The man seems so kind, so considerate. You want to have him inside you too.

“Yes…more.” You pant.

Slowly, and under your direction, Felix squeezes in next to Chan. “So tight. Chan, how are you holding up?”

Chan’s voice is shaky when he answers. “M’not gonna last, mate. Pussy’s too good.”

“More…please…make me take it. Wannabe a good girl! Wanna come on two cocks. Just fuck me!” You ramble and nuzzle against Chan.

The stretch is nothing like you’ve ever felt before. Your walls are stretched further than they have ever been, and they’re so deep inside you, owning you, making you theirs.

You begin to drool, as they take turns withdrawing and thrusting in a beautiful rhythm.

The men growl and grunt as they work together, eventually deciding that instead of one thrust in while the other withdraws, they are going to thrust in at the same time.

“Oh god! Fuck!” You wail.

The both laugh at your reaction, pleased with themselves.

“Harder! More!” You demand. You need them to really give it to you like they promised.

“Make it hurt!”

Their reaction tells you it is music to their ears to hear that.

“Ready, Lix? You heard her. Babygirl wants it to hurt.”

You almost regret it straight away. Felix’s fingers dig into your hips hard, and Chan digs his feet into the table for leverage.

Together they don’t hold back, fucking you brutally. You feel like your cunt is about to split into two. It’s stretched to its limits, yet it craves more. Frantically, you seek more friction, more depth and your body automatically pushes back down against them seeking more.

Lewd sounds fill the office. Sweaty skin slapping skin. Moans, whimpers and curses of ‘fuck’. Then there’s the wet sounds of your pussy. It’s all so dirty and filthy.

You feel yourself so close to your another orgasm, and when both men move a finger to your ass, you know you’re a goner.

“Think you can take both our fingers?”

“Ngh…y-yes…give it to me.” You sob.

The moment you feel your rim give way, and their fingers slip inside slightly and pulling in opposite directions, stretching your hole wide, your body shakes uncontrollably, and you come hard with a sound that can only be described something raw, something primal.

“Fuck! You feel that?” Cries Felix, slamming into you as hard as he can.

“Y-yeah! Fuck, she’s gonna suck us dry. So tight…. Fuuuuck!!” He groans as he cums, releasing himself deep in you. “That's it, let us breed you like a bitch in heat. Gonna take Lixie’s cum too? Mmm yeah? Gonna suck the cum out of him with your tight, hungry little cunt?”

“Mmhmm… yess…need his cum too.”

“Wanna be bred, yeah?”

“Y-yes….please. Please. Need it.” You’re dribbling all over Chan’s chest, mumbling in confusion. It all feels so overwhelmingly incredible. So good you’re going to -

“I’m fucking coming again!” You cry, clamping down around the the two men.

“Oh fuck! Gonna give you my cum. Gonna-”

Felix’s hips falter as he cums, filling you so much that it begins to seep out around both cocks.

He slips out of your tired pussy, and you already feel far too empty, and then Chan pulls out too making you sob at the loss.

“You okay?” Felix wraps a blanket around you and Chan produces warm towels to clean you up.

You nod and smile, although you’re also bawling your eyes out from how euphoric the experience felt. “It was so good. Thank you for being so…considerate. You know, letting me set the pace. As you know, that was my first time.”

“Of course.” Chan kneels down in front of you. “We take our roles very seriously. Our client’s needs are our top priority.” He wipes a tear away. “Now. You need to stay here and rest. Felix will bring you food. And if you are still up for it, we will commence the final request of yours as soon as you're good to go."

>>>>

Minho listens from the other side of the door. That’s right, you’re a client. Nothing more.

He sighs.

Then why did he listen to that entire interaction? Why did he feel like he needed to make sure they didn’t take things too far with you? Or that they would honor your safe word?

He knows Chan and Felix wouldn’t do anything you weren’t comfortable with, yet he stood there, fists clenched, listening to you whimpering? Waiting for an excuse to barge in there.

Fuck! He cards his fingers through his hair.

Why did he feel jealous when he heard the sounds that your sweet cunt made when they were inside you? Why did he want to burst in there and rip them from your body and sink himself inside you?

Why the fuck does he care so much?

He settles his mouth into a thin line. He know why, and it's absolutely not ideal. Not to mention it's against the rules of the job.

He sighs again and forces himself to walk away. He needs to figure out a way that he's going to handle watching you get gang banged, and quick.

>>>>

a/n: Oopies, someone is struggling with some feelings it seems. How did you enjoy this chapter? I really wanted to make it a longish one and really give the the Aussie their moment. Please, if you enjoyed, consider a reblog or leave a comment. I love hearing your thoughts on this series.

>>>>

@jeonginsleftcheek @meilix @itgirlalisaa @linocz @boi-bi-ahaha @frozenpeasworld @grandma143 @milkypinkmimi @bangchansbbgirl @leefelixsslut @privhace @justforreaders @galaxycatdrawz @melochacco @jiwoos-babygirl @lunearta @kavifornia @chuuyaobsessed @iadorethemskz @hyun-hwanj @courtnort455 @brimarie0512 @dwaekkicidal @kibs-and-bits @txa-r @minh0scat @the-sweet-rose @chrizzztopherbang @velvetmoonlght @youcanstayyeah @skzswife @stephanieeeyang @withnia @kibs-and-bits @kayleefriedchicken @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @ihrtlino

@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin@weareapackofstrays @3rachasdomesticbanana @palindrome969 @xxkissesforchanniexx @fun-fanfics @rhonnie23 @jisunglyricist @strayywayy @armystay89 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @mylittleponeypinkrosieposie @melochacco @scenuniverse @oddracha @jiminssluttyminx @dool-set-net @redstayrosie @mintymintmint251 @katsukis1wife @delulustardust @eastjonowhere

[midnight1nk]

EPISODE CONCEPT #4

What if... SMG3 had the courage to confess his feelings for the real SMG4?

For context, this is part two of my Episode Concept #3 [link], which many have asked for! @lovesick-simp, this is for you! (this is somehow longer than #3, holy shit.) Now, without further ado…

I promise.

He could never forget the feeling of tangible pixels leaving his arms. What once skin and clothes turned into mere 0’s and 1’s.

Those eyes, the ones he was willing to sink in its depths for hours, they cried. Of apology, of bittersweet farewell. He promised a lot of things, and one was to never let Four cry.

But it was never your Four.

At the time, a thousand thoughts passed through his mind. That this was simply a nightmare, or he had gotten too drunk. Or he ate a Wonder Flower by accident. Somehow, some way, this can’t be happening. He wanted to deny it all, but he knew. Why deny the truth when he fading away in your arms?

Goodbye, Three…

“SMG3?”

Three jumped at the mention of his name, turning to Tari who looked back at him with concern.

Tari: “Oh, sorry. Just wanted to know if you’re okay. You’ve been staring at Lil’ Spot for a while.”

He blinked at her, and then looked down at the gray-feathered duckling nestle in his cupped hands. Ah, yeah, he was.

SMG3: “I was just daydreaming, that’s all.” [*looks around, recalling where he was*] “It really is a nice place. It’s not far from the Showgrounds, right?” Tari, smiles: “Yep, I always like to come down here, it helps me clear my head. Plus, I get to hang around with the duckies!” SMG3: [*nods and with a finger, he soothes the duckling’s head*] “You were right before, I could use the fresh air.” “Eh, Tari, a little help here?”

Three looked across the way to see a couple of yellow ducklings climbing all over SMG4, who was standing by the edge of the lake. All over on his arms, his shoulders, under his blue cap. As Tari ran over to help, Four trying to not let any of them fall while giggling, tickled by their fluffy feathers.

Three began to smile, and perhaps he could let his heart feel that missing warmth.

Have courage.

But the cautious part of him didn't let him. He should've known better, he apologized to his heart.

Not yet.

Four and Tari came back with the tamed ducklings lined up in their arms.

SMG4: “If I spent a little more time with these little guys, they're gonna think I’m their mom.” SMG3, hums: “You always did have a thing for being the center of the universe.” SMG4: “Hey, it's not like I do it on purpose.”

And yet, you managed to become mine. But Three kept that thought to himself.

Tari: “It's getting late, and I told Meggy I was making dinner tonight. I should probably get them back to their mother.” SMG4, handing the ducklings from his arms to hers: “Yeah, we should head home, SMG3.”

Three said goodbye to Lil' Spot before handing the duckling to Tari, who promptly went to drop them off and returned. While Four was distracted, folding up the picnic blanket, Three leaned towards Tari while keeping an eye on Four.

SMG3, whispered: “Tari, could you please do a simulation check?”

Tari looked at him, her concern reflecting once again. He has asked that everyday. Any chance he was with her, it was the same. The first few times, she tried assuring him, telling him, “It's okay, SMG3. There's no need, you’re safe now.”

But it never seemed to calm his nerves. As much as she wanted to protest, she knew that it wasn't an unreasonable exaggeration. Whatever the simulation did to him must've been really horrible for him not to tell anyone what happened. To think he was back.

Tari nodded and programmed a command on the floating screen projecting by her arm. A window popped up saying, No detection of simulation.

Tari: “All clear.” SMG3, letting out a sigh of relief: “Thanks. I owe you one.” Tari, letting out a small smile: “No worries, we’re your friends after all. Though, I wouldn't mind having one of your cookies again once you’re healed.” SMG3: [*chuckle*] “That I can do.” SMG4, swinging the backpack over his shoulder: “Alright, ready to go?”

SMG3 nods. After saying goodbye to Tari, SMG4 pushed SMG3’s wheelchair on the path towards the Showgrounds.

It’s been over a month since Three was freed from the simulation. The Crew wasted no time bringing him to the hospital. The rest, well, it seemed like a blur. To Three at least. The doctors and nurses, what they said, he never caught it. He was lucky that his friends were there to remember for him. Three wasn’t exactly sure what to feel. Should he grieve? Should he be grateful that the Crew found him and his son?

What he did know was the promise that he kept.

The Crew was naturally relieved to see he was in good hands, but anyone could tell that they were exhausted from the stress of the search. So, while Three was going through recovery, they took turns watching over him. The rest, who didn't have the shift, took the chance to rest.

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

One night, Tari and Saiko were walking down the quiet hospital hall, Saiko holding a gift bag and Tari a duffle bag with colorful patches all over it.

Tari: “Do you think SMG3 will like the card?” Saiko: “He’s a big softie on the inside, of course he will. Let's just hope we can pry SMG4 away from him.” Tari: “You can't exactly blame SMG4. I mean, don't you remember? He didn't sleep for days, or even eat. He was worried sick.” Saiko: “But he needs rest too, not just us. SMG3 is rescued, he should let us take care of it, if he wasn't so stubborn.” Tari: “Well, that nurse did say SMG3 would be better soon. Maybe we convince SMG4 this time.”

They reached to Three's room, but they found an unexpected sight when they opened the door:

Four fell asleep on the chair beside the bed, his head resting on Three’s lap like a pillow. A sleeping Three had a hand gently on Four’s hair with all the tenderness and quiet reassurance in the world. What was free, their hands were intertwined. It was certainly a rare sight, and they seemed so at peace with each other.

Tari and Saiko shared a glance, a gentle smile.

Tari: “Aw, that's so cute.” [*snaps a picture for the group chat*] Saiko: “C’mon, let’s them be.”

Saiko tiptoed into the room and left the gift bag on the nearby table. Peering at them one last time, she gently closes the door. They could always come back tomorrow.

There, what awaited in the gift bag, were reminders of home. A bomb from his cafe, a mini-plush of Eggdog, a record of jazz music. A homemade card, one side filled with heartwarming messages and the other a drawing of all the Crew with the Castle in the background, one of the best works Melony has ever done.

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

SMG4: “I bet I can drink a thousand cans of Monster Energy.” SMG3: “Nah uh! You’re lucky I can’t drink that stuff yet because I would’ve totally beaten you!” SMG4: “Oh, really? Well, I can’t wait to see you try.”

The two laughed as they reached the Castle. Eggdog greeted them at the door, happy to see his dads (And yes, I know what I said, shh) after Three's physical therapy session and jumped into his dad’s arms for a quick hug. Beeg4 slowly followed his brother, only letting out a pufferfish noise as a small “hello”. He isn’t usually the affectionate type. Four went to get Three’s customized cane leaned against the wall, and helped Three get to his feet. (The cane was a gift from the Crew but Bob was the one who added neat little secrets for Three to use. Though, Bob wants it to be off the record that it isn’t because he’s gone soft or anything.)

Ever since Four proposed the idea for Three to stay at the Castle, this has become second nature for them. They switched out the wheelchair with the cane at home so Three would be more comfortable walking around. Plus, he would usually hold Four’s arm to lean on. After his physical therapy appointments, Four would cook up dinner for the whole family. Or see if there’s any leftovers or takeout on special occasions. Three recently got the approval to eat solid food again, and Three couldn't be more glad. He was honestly getting sick of the same old soups day after day. Well, even if they tasted good. And they all sit at their usual seats at the table, not that they assigned seats or anything. It felt natural.

And today was pizza night.

SMG3: “Y’know…” SMG4, setting the pizza down: “No.” SMG3: “Oh, c’mon. You haven’t even tried it, you big baby.” SMG4: “And I already know that your ‘Ultimate Pizza’ is a disgrace to culinary art. To your tastebuds. Who the hell puts baked beans on pizza?” SMG3: “Well, Eggdog likes it.” Eggdog, helping set the plates: [*happy bark*] SMG4: “Oh, so now you’re bringing the kids into this? C’mon, Beeg, help me out here.” [Beeg doesn’t respond] [*acts dramatically, like someone stabbed him in the heart*] “I’ve been betrayed. Pleh.” SMG3, shakes head amusingly: “Shut up and eat, idiot.” SMG4: “Yeah, well, you’re stuck with me.” [*taunting*] “Forever.” SMG3: “Oh no, whatever should I… do.”

He… said this before, hasn’t he?

SMG4, mouth full of pizza: “Uh, SMG3, you’re good?” SMG3: “Yeah yeah, I’m fine.” [*eats his slice somberly, looking away*]

Four kept his gaze on Three. He wanted Three to tell him what was in his mind. He wanted to reach out and hold his hand. Comfort him. They have been there for each other at the worst of times. At each other’s worst.

There were two things they shared with absolute certainty: (1) they’re both stubborn, and (2) they would put up a brave face for the people around them.

Four did, when he discovered Three and Eggdog missing from the cafe. He would put on a determined smile, telling the rest of the Crew that they would rescue Three. But he supposed they could see right through him. That he was crumbling. Three was the one who saved him when he went insane and was possessed by the demonic keyboard. How could he not be frustrated at the fact that he couldn’t do the same?

Biting into his pepperoni slice, Four thought to himself, if only there was a way to take away all the pain Three was feeling right now. If only Three would let go of the front he has and let him show his pain in front of Four. To let Four be his safe space.

There isn’t much he can do, other than to let Three come to him on his own terms. When he is ready.

After finishing up dinner and washing the dishes, they all went to Four’s room. Eggdog and Begg decided to play Jenga, Three sat on the bed scrolling through his phone, and Four went back to editing videos since there was a lot of catching up to do. The record player was playing jazz music, the LP cover was signed “To SMG3”. Three bobbed his head while Four hummed the notes, admittedly it was a great disc that they could both enjoy. After a while, Three reminded Four to take a break from the screen, to which Four immediately complied and sat next to Three.

SMG4: “How’s your legs?”

SMG3: “Tired. But not as bad as last time. Could you pass the pills?”

SMG4, grabbing the bottle and handing it to Three: “Well, you are getting better in today's therapy session. Just wait a bit more.”

When SMG3 grabbed his medication, they briefly touched. It normally wouldn’t mean anything, but there was a tingle. Of curiosity, of warmth. The two lightly blushed, which they quickly brushed it off. They sat in silence as Three swallowed the pills.

SMG3: [*held his jaw by the hand*] “Do you know what I miss the most?” [*looks at Four, who nods as a sign for him to go on*] “Dancing.”

Three didn’t lie, it was one of the things he loved to do. That, and one other reason...

After some thought, Four stood up from the bed. Three didn’t even notice until Four stood before him. Four cleared his throat, a tint of pink on his cheeks, and held out his hand.

SMG4: “Wanna dance?” SMG3: [*puzzled, looking at the hand to Four and back*] “SMG4, I think we should get you some glasses.” SMG4: [*amusingly rolling his eyes*] “’It doesn’t have to be perfect.’ Isn’t that what you always told me?” SMG3: [*starstruck at the remembrance of this memory, lightly chuckled*] “And you dare to use my own words against me.”

Four helped Three up to his feet, his arms being his only support instead of the cane or wheelchair. At first, it was naturally awkward, being that Three is still recovering. Their dancing, if you would even call it that, was more of them shuffling their feet around the floor. They didn’t care.

Fly me to the moon Let me play among the stars

Slowly, they melted in each other’s embrace. Oh, how easily it was to be lost in the other’s eyes, pools of ruby and sapphire. Secretly, they wished they could be like this forever.

Let me see what spring is like On Jupiter and Mars

In the back of Three’s mind, alarm bells were ringing loudly. It isn’t real. He just wants to be friends. Somehow, Three ignored it all the moment Four gave him a smile.

In other words, hold my hand In other words, darling, kiss me

What Three didn’t know, Four was lost in his own mind. The romanticist that he is, he’s freaking out in the inside like a high school girl. It felt like a scene in the romcom movies he watches. But it was real. Three taught him how to give second chances. Perhaps there was a chance now.

Fill my heart with song Let me sing forevermore

Three ran his fingers on Four’s sleeve. It’s real. He’s real.

You are all I long for All I worship and adore

His shooting star, his sweet prince.

In other words, please be true

His hope.

In other words, I love you

As the song ends, the two came to a stop, but they didn’t part. Once again, they were lost in each other’s world.

SMG3: “…We’ve stopped.”

SMG4: “We did? Then, why is a room still spinning?”

Being so close to the other man, the tension was high. Have courage.

Even then, it wasn’t enough. He’s not your Four. Three cleared his throat, looking away before any temptation got hold of him.

SMG3: “I’m… pretty tired, SMG4.” SMG4: “Oh, yeah. Sorry.” [*reaching to hand Three his cane, hiding his disappointment*] SMG3: “Thanks anyway.” [*walks out the door, preparing to go to bed*]

SMG4 stayed where he stood, his heart skipped a beat. It felt like a dream. He danced with his… Well, ‘friend’ was never the right word for him to label Three. Partner? Maybe.

Crush. Yeah… that sounds about right. Ever since Four was saved by Three, he never looked at their relationship the same way. “Just friends” was the stability for the longest time. The “safe” term. And yet, it was selfish to wish for something more. So much so that Four had dreams of a domestic life with Three. Holding hands, to lean to his touch. To…

Four shook his head. Three didn’t seem ready, or even interested. It was just part of his imagination and nothing more.

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

The concrete halls were dark, cold by the touch. All was silent except for the dripping coming from an overhead pipe leak. Light shined through, daring the shadows to confrontation.

They didn’t think they’d be back, but here they were.

Mario, Meggy, and Saiko walked down the abandoned building, remembering their way to a specific room.

Meggy: “We’re getting close, guys. Keep your eyes peeled.” Saiko: “I seriously don’t see the point of us coming back here. Whoever did this is long gone.” Meggy: “Tari was telling me how SMG3 was, and… Look, whoever did this really messed him up. But they must’ve had some big plan for them to involve SMG3 in something. We gotta figure out what it was.” Saiko: “If you think it’s gonna help, fine. Like I said, I’m only here as backup.”

Finding the right door, they entered what was once the simulation room. The group split up and searched for any clues.

Saiko: “Looks like they didn’t come back here.” [*examines the monitor and finds a file of plans in creating the simulation*] Meggy: [*picks up the simulation machinery*] “It’s completely busted. Find anything, Red?” Mario: “No.” [*trips over a hidden box, spilling its contents*] “Ow, my ass.” Meggy: “Are you alright?” Mario: [*rubbing his head*] “Yeah.” [*looks at what he tripped over*] “Hey, I found SMG3’s clothes!” Saiko: “Clothes?”

Indeed, there was a pair of black overalls, a dark blue long-sleeve, and a familiar cap. Meggy picked up the cap, spinning it in her hands. Seeing the “M” emblem, she recognized it immediately. SMG3 wore this getup before the redesigns, and she knew why the “M” was attached.

Meggy: “The Youtube remote. They were trying to make SMG3 into a villain again.”

Mario and Saiko exchanged a glance, seeing the situation at hand. To force Three into a villain again…

Saiko: “You guys get out of here.” Mario and Meggy: “What?” Saiko: “The simulation machinery may be destroyed but it doesn’t mean another one can’t be built.” [*presents the file to them*] “That person’s going to come back and get their things, maybe continue with their plan. They already hurt one of us, it can’t happen again. You guys get out of here, I’ll take care of it.”

Mario and Saiko looked at each other before giving a nod. Saiko was right, the culprit always comes back at the scene of the crime after all. The two left, leaving Saiko alone in the room. She picked up a lighter and lit the file blueprints, watching these plans of cruelty burn to a crisp. She was lucky to buy one of Three’s bombs just for a moment like this. She lit up and ran out, letting the explosive destroy it all. The clothes, the plans. The building itself. Every single bit to a crisp.

No one messes with the Crew. No one.

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

“Three?”

SMG3 opens his eyes, widening as he recognizes his surroundings. The white void.

SMG3: [*heavy breathing*] “No, no, no.”

He turned his heel, ready to run, when he was stunned to see…

SMG3: “…SMG4?” SMG4: “God, you really are pathetic.”

Three is left stunned.

SMG4: “I mean, did you really think I had feelings for you? I’m only taking care of you because I feel bad.” [*walks over to Three*] SMG3: “I thought—” SMG4: “Oh, you thought? Please, get a grip on what’s real here.” [*harshly grabbed onto Three’s arm*] Villains don’t get happy endings.” SMG3: “Four, you’re hurting me. Stop it. Just stop!”

Suddenly, Four went limp, starting to fall over.

SMG3: “Four!” [*catching him*]

Three turns Four over to see his face half of it was pixelated, fading away.

SMG4?: “You… couldn’t keep your promise.” SMG3: “No… I… I’m trying. I really am.” Digital SMG4: “I got a chance to live, to experience love of all things.” [*his voice quickly distorting*] “And you ruined it all.” SMG3: “No, it’s not true. It’s not!” Digital Four: “Why, Three? Why did you have to be so cruel?”

In that moment, Four faded away, its code in the wind.

SMG3: “No, no no!”

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

SMG3: ”NO!”

Three jolted up from the bed. A hand clutching at his shirt, he felt like he couldn’t breathe. Four, who slept right next to his partner, also woke up.

SMG4: “SMG3. Three. It’s okay, that dream isn’t real. It’s not real.” [*his hands gently cradled Three’s face*] “Easy, easy, easy.”

Three finally came to his senses, grounded by Four’s reassurance. His heavy breathing settled until his panic was no more.

SMG4: [*his thumb caresses the other’s cheek*] “See? It’s okay. I’m here. I’m here.”

From the calmness and comfort of his hands, Three leaned into his touch. What he dreamed of, that wasn’t his Four. They stayed like this, the air becoming heavy. Until Three reached to grab Four’s hand from his cheek, but he didn’t shoo the other away.

SMG4: “Three…” SMG3: “I can’t. Sorry…”

SMG4 sighed, once again unable to reach him. But there still had to be a way to help Three.

SMG4: “Hey, do you think you can sleep again?” SMG3: [*shakes his head*] “No.” SMG4: [*gets up from bed and grabs Three’s shoes*] “C’mon, I wanna show you something.”

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

Three had no idea where Four was taking him, but here they were: walking through the woods still in their pajamas, in hoodies, and shoes. They weren’t in a rush but Four was seemingly eager to show him this mystery. He looked at Four without the other noticing.

Me, the Crew, everything, it's an exact copy of the real thing.

The Four in the digital world was a mere copy. But even a copy could never show him what he was about to see:

Beyond the woods, there was a field of white flowers. Open to the beautiful stars above. The two sat down and looked at the view.

SMG4: “Whenever I get a nightmare, I always come here. I just happen to stumble over all of this. But it somehow clears my head. Especially after… the ‘perfect’ incident.” [*small chuckle*] “I guess there are some things we can't get over.”

Three looks at him, hanging on to every word.

SMG4: “I care a lot about you, SMG3. More than you could ever realize. But it hurts to see when you’re trying to keep it all together. I know that feeling all too well. I can’t force you to tell me what happened in the simulation, but know that whatever happens, I’ll be here for you.”

Their hands got closer together. Their pinkies touched, they noticed but didn’t show.

SMG3: “I don’t know if you should. All the people I care about don’t stay for long. I’m unlikable, SMG4. I’m a villain and always will be.” SMG4: [*shakes head*] “You’ve changed. Besides, I like you. All of you.” [*their pinkies intertwined*] SMG3: “Four…” SMG4: “No, I’m not going to change my mind. I won’t leave you. Whatever you wish me to be, I will be it. A friend, a partner. Someone you can talk to. Anything.”

The air felt heavy once again, and everything became a blur. The silent wind passed through their hair. Have courage.

SMG3: [*gulping*] “…Then, let me ask: are you real?”

A free hand from Four held the other’s face.

SMG4: [*briefly looking at Three’s lips*] “As real as you want me to be.”

Whatever stopped him several times before, Four cut those ties loose. He leaned forward, his eyes slowly closing. He was patient and ready to see if Three would reject him. But Three didn’t and let Four close the gap.

A soft kiss, it was brief. It was tender. It was real.

Three kissed back, letting the other know he reciprocated. They parted for a moment, waiting for the other to make a move.

SMG3: “Then, be true for me.”

They went for a second kiss, this time with passion and longing. This. This cleared every doubt they had before. Their insecurities, whatever held them down. Three wrapped his arms around Four’s neck while other did the same, around Three’s back. If this was a dream, screw it, let them dream. This time, nothing was going to take it away from them.

A single tear rolled down Three's cheek. It's been a while, hasn't it?

SMG3, talking in between kisses: “I love you, Four. I always have.” SMG4, doing the same: “I love you too, Three. I wanted you for so long.” SMG3, parting from kiss: [*laugh*] “Oh? Did you now?” SMG4, turning bright red: “Uh.. c’mon, dude, don’t ruin the moment. It’s not my fault you’re attractive.” SMG3, mischievously leaning to Four: “Really?” SMG4: “Shit.”

Three nuzzled into Four’s neck, kissing all over and leaving Four laughing at how ticklish it was.

SMG4, bursting in laughter: “Three, s-stop!” SMG3, whispered: “Glad to know I wasn’t the only one who thought the same.”

Oh, how wonderful was it to listen to the sounds Four makes.

His shooting star, his sweet prince.

His Four.

After a while, the two catch their breath. They leaned onto each other, held hands, and looked back at the stars.

SMG4: “I promise I’ll be true for you.” [*gave Three's hand a squeeze*] SMG3: [*hums, returning the gesture*] “Well then, I’ll do the same for you.”

Three held many promises, one was to never let Four cry. Now, there was another: to be his truest self.

[seitmai]

Very late and very many thoughts, so I'm gonna utilize the read more function

“How the hell are you still consistently finding this much alcohol? We’re barely finding enough food.” Heaving himself up until he’s sitting on the edge of his mattress, Jake rests his head heavily in his hands as the world continues to spin around him. Still slurring slightly, he mutters, “‘s not enough. Two bottles a night aren’t helpin’ anymore. Nightmare’s back.”

😬😬😬

The water heater broke a few months ago and with no one left in their dwindling group who knew how to fix it, freezing showers had become the norm.

Not me adding "learn basics of fixing a water heater" to my to do list lmao

Jake used to use the board as his motivation to keep fighting, to not let more names be added to the list. But now that it contains so many faces of the people he cared deeply for or respected—you, Coyote, Iceman, Cyclone, Payback—it has become a constant reminder of all the ways he failed. 

💔💔💔

 Next to her, Bob scans the area just beyond the fence, his blue eyes alert behind his cracked glasses. With his unusual prescription, it’s been impossible to find a replacement after they slipped off his face running from a pack of creatures. He made it safely to the church in one piece—one of his lenses did not. Yet, he has never once complained or made excuses for his impaired vision. 

Bob is just such a good soul 🥺

“Oh, Jake…” Your hands fly up to cover your mouth as your eyes continue to roam over his body. Yet even covered, he can see your jaw trembling as you cry, “Baby, what…We promised if something ever happened to the other, we wouldn’t give up. We would keep fighting.” “I’m still here, aren’t I?” Jake snaps. But then he wilts under the weight of your gaze. Scrubbing his hand over his face, he whispers, “I almost ended it—a few times. Drugs, booze, even thought I’d take my nickname literally. Made a noose and everything. But the thing that always stopped me was that promise. So, yeah, I–I’ve been a bit of a mess since you—” he gestures at your transformed self “—and I’m sorry. I tried to be strong but losing you was the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. We were supposed to face this hellscape together and I didn’t know how to cope without you so I let myself become someone that I hate. But now that you’re back—”

This broke my heart.. it shows how truly broken Jake is and that every day is a struggle with her for him💔

You turn to gaze into the darkness surrounding you. “It’s like acid in my veins, a constant burning fire in my gut that only grows stronger if it’s not satisfied. Blood’s the only thing that soothes the pain for even a few hours, but it’s never enough. I’ve tried to stop myself, I have, but each time I drink it gets hard to fight. And with every life I take, I feel a little more of myself slip away. I’m not the woman you loved anymore, Jake. I’m just a monster with her face.” Jake shakes his head with a firm set in his jaw. “No. I don't believe that. It's still you. Why else would you have looked for me? The woman I love is still here and she needed to see me just as much as I needed to see her.”

He is still so in love 🥺

“And I don’t care what you think.” Without hesitation, Jake crosses the remainder of his little haven of sunlight and steps forward to join you in the inky darkness. You cower back again but he takes another step to maintain the same distance between you. “You're not going to hurt me. I know that. Because you're so strong and brave and you can fight this–”

The way he believes and trust in her more than she does herself 🥹

This newest revelation is the last straw for Jake. A man can only process so much trauma at once before he reaches his breaking point. Falling to his knees, he hangs his head, tears dripping off his face onto the dusty tile beneath him as his shoulders shake with stifled sobs. 

I just wanna give him a hug, this is a lot 😭

You fall silent again, but Jake just continues to cry with no acknowledgment of what you said. After a moment of this, you plead, “Jake, talk to me. Tell me what you’re thinking. If you want me to go—”  “Please…” Jake breathes, the weight of the past two years pressing down on him. “Please let me hold you.” “W-what?” Based on the utter shock in your voice, that is not what you were expecting him to say. It takes everything in him, but Jake lifts his eyes so they meet yours. “Baby, I need you in my arms again. To feel you, touch you, prove this is real. I have dreamed about you every night for two years. Horrible, bloody nightmares that have destroyed my life. I need you to chase those nightmares away.”

He is desperate for a moment of solace and how it was 2 years ago that he is willing to die for that 😭

“Jake, have you not heard a word I’ve said? I’ve killed our friends and I’ll kill you too. Or worse, I’ll turn you.” “I want you to,” he whispers.

He is so done with this life 🥺

“Please…” Jake sobs loudly, too emotionally and mentally drained to get to his feet and walk to you. “I can’t live without you anymore. I need us to be together, whatever that looks like.” “You don’t know what you’re asking.” “You’ve made it pretty clear. But I’m willing to bear the pain, the…the consequences of this choice if it means I can be with you. So, please, don’t make me spend one more second without you. Either kill me or turn me, but I can’t do this anymore.”

😭😭😭

Jake can’t wait any longer. He grabs your hand and pulls you into his chest, squeezing you as tightly as he possibly can. Your skin is icy beneath his touch, but he doesn’t care. He’s holding you in his arms again and nothing else in the world matters.  Squeezing you tighter, Jake mutters, “No. It’s okay, baby. I want this. Just let go.”

He has already made his peace 🥺

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, black tears falling on his chest. “I’ll be as gentle as I can.”

❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

Soft moans and gasps that have Jake flashing back to all those times you were beneath him as he drove you closer and closer to the edge. And for just a second, he can bear the pain knowing he is giving you some semblance of pleasure.

He truly would do anything for her 🥺

Jake picks up the soft sound as it is breathed across the empty warehouse, his ears already tuning into sounds humans shouldn’t be able to hear. His eyes flutter open and just over your shoulder, he can see Bob and Phoenix bathed in sunlight standing at the entrance to the building. Bob has tears in his eyes, his lips whispering your name in horror as he watches the growing gory mess you are making of Jake’s neck. He glances back and forth between Jake and Phoenix, silently pleading with her to find a way to fix this.

Poor Bob 🥺

But Phoenix just stares at the pair of reunited lovers, her jaw set tightly. And Jake knows she understands. Phoenix always understands. 

Of course she does 🥹

Jake is weak from blood loss and pain, but he manages the slightest of nods. Lifting two fingers to her forehead, Phoenix gives Jake a small salute in return.

What a small but beautiful goodbye between them 😭

Then she raises her flashlight. As the beam of light strikes your shoulder, your mouth instantly disappears from Jake’s throat with an agonized hiss as you try to flee from the pain. But using what strength he has left, Jake holds you in place. Smiling as every cell in his body begins to burn differently from before, he whispers, “Together.” And he holds up his hand which is cracking and disintegrating in the light just like yours. Though still pained, your face softens as you realize what he is doing. Transformation or death, those had been his choices. However, it turns out it wasn’t an “or” but an “and”. Reaching out, you link your fingers with his, your skin flaky and fragile in his grasp. You snuggle your head against the unbitten crook of his neck, whimpering slightly as the light does its job, and you whisper back, “Together.” Jake wraps his other arm around you and holds you close, silently vowing to never let go again.

Together 😭❤️😭❤️😭

The last thing he sees before his world slips away is the strangely beautiful swirl of particles of your two disintegrating bodies intermingling in the beam of sunlight. 

A beautiful ending together, like they deserved🥹

Drink With Me (Part 2)

AI-Less Whumptober 2024: Day 6. self-sacrifice Fandom: Top Gun, Top Gun: Maverick, Jake "Hangman" Seresin, f!reader, Vampire Apocalypse AU Summary: Two years after Jake was forced to watch you ripped apart by the creatures that now terrorize the world, he is a shell of the man he once was. However, a familiar voice calling to him in the dark may give him a second chance. Word Count: 5911 TW: Hurt/Comfort, Blood, Vampires, Character Death, Murder, Grief, Biting, Mention of Suicidal Thoughts, Drinking (alcohol and blood), Language Notes: Not beta read so sorry for any mistakes! Part of @ailesswhumptober's event! 💗

Series Masterlist

“No….No!” 

He tries to race to your side, to stop the torment playing out before his eyes, but he is held back by hundreds of hands wrapping around him, pulling him away. Fighting against them with every ounce of his strength, he screams, “Get the fuck off of me! We need to help her! No! What the fuck are you doing?” 

“She’s gone, Hangman,” dozens of disembodied voices whisper in unison from the darkness behind him. “I’m so sorry, but there’s nothing else anyone can do for her now. It’s over. It’s been over for years. You failed. Just as you continue to fail every night.”

“No! I can save her! Please, let me save her this time!” Jake sobs as he continues to struggle against whatever is holding him back. “Please!”

But it’s no use. He’s not strong enough. As he is dragged farther and farther away, he sees you lift your head one last time, panic and pain etched across your face. You lock eyes with him and just have time to scream a terrified, “Jake!” before one of the creatures rips your throat out with its teeth—

Jake bolts upright with a deep gasp, only to immediately collapse back onto his mattress with a pitiful moan. He grabs his head as it throbs painfully with every beat of his racing heart and he squeezes his eyes together tightly in an attempt to stop the world from spinning around him. But it does little to help. His nearly naked body feels sticky and gross tangled in his soiled sheet and he wonders if it’s just sweat from the nightmare, or if he vomited in his sleep again. Maybe both…probably both. 

At least he is fairly certain he hadn’t pissed himself this time if the intense pressure in his bladder is any indication. However, he doesn’t have the faintest desire to crawl to the bathroom so he’ll worry about those consequences later. Instead, he rolls over and tries to push your final agonized scream from his mind so he can go back to some semblance of sleep.

Just as he begins to pass out again, he hears the curtain hanging around his small space being pushed back and the toe of a boot digs into his side. Without opening his eyes, he swats at the foot, trying to shove it away. “‘uck off, Phe,” he mumbles somewhat coherently. “‘s too early.”

“Tell that to the rest of us who have already been awake for several hours,” Phoenix snaps, driving her boot deeper into Jake’s ribs. When he tries to roll away, she sighs, “Do we really have to do this every morning? I’m not your fucking babysitter. Get up! Bob and I need your help setting up the trap while the light’s in the right position.”

There is nothing in the world that Jake wants to do more than ignore her and go back to sleep. However, she’s right. They do go through this every morning and by now he has accepted the fact that he can not win this argument. So, reluctantly, he peels open his eyes and squints up at her.

Seeing that some progress is being made, Phoenix removes her boot from his side and takes a few steps back. In doing so, she almost slips on the drink Jake had spilled the night before. Looking around his small space, she shakes her head. 

“Jesus, Hangman,” she grumbles as she kicks a few empty wine bottles out of the way, sending them clinking across the floor only to crash into piles of more. “How the hell are you still consistently finding this much alcohol? We’re barely finding enough food.”

Heaving himself up until he’s sitting on the edge of his mattress, Jake rests his head heavily in his hands as the world continues to spin around him. Still slurring slightly, he mutters, “‘s not enough. Two bottles a night aren’t helpin’ anymore. Nightmare’s back.”

“Yeah, well, we’ve all got our own nightmares that haunt us and you don’t see the rest of us pickling our livers to deal with it.” She hurls a half-empty backpack at him which smacks into the side of his head, nearly knocking over his unsteady form. “Now get your shit together and meet us out front in thirty minutes. We’ve got work to do.” She stomps out of his little alcove to give him some privacy but then pivots to add, “And for fuck’s sake, take a shower.”

Forty-five minutes later, Jake steps out of the shower stall, a thread-bare towel wrapped low on his hips. He shivers slightly as he pads across the cold tile floor towards the sinks. The water heater broke a few months ago and with no one left in their dwindling group who knew how to fix it, freezing showers had become the norm. While they should be grateful they even had any water at all, Jake can’t help but recall a time when a hot shower was the best part of his day. 

A soft gasp leaves your lips as he presses his bare body against yours, pinning you to the cool tile wall. Your eyes sparkle in the muted light filtered through the shower curtain as you gaze hungrily at him. Warm water flows over his back as he sinks into you—

No. No memories. Not now. Not when he doesn’t have the luxury of going back to his “room” and drowning them in booze. 

Instead, Jake quickly dresses, trying his best not to catch a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Half the time—when there is still enough lingering alcohol in his system—he sees your mangled corpse standing behind his reflection. The other half, he left staring at the shell of the man he had become. In some ways, that’s worse because he knows it would break your heart to see what losing you has done to him.

Even though sanitation supplies had only really become a scarcity in the last few months, Jake had given up the will for self-grooming long before that. The tangled beard covering his sunken cheeks is a clear indication of that as is the long greasy strands of hair hanging limply in front of the dark circles surrounding his bloodshot eyes. You had always preferred him clean-shaven and with shorter hair. But you were gone so he didn’t give a fuck.

Exiting the bathroom, Jake heads toward the front of the church. He averts his eyes as he passes the bulletin board that had been converted into a memorial shrine for those they had lost. He remembers the days when there had only been a few names and pictures up there. Now, the fallen takes up every inch of the board and spills out across the wall. Jake used to use the board as his motivation to keep fighting, to not let more names be added to the list. But now that it contains so many faces of the people he cared deeply for or respected—you, Coyote, Iceman, Cyclone, Payback—it has become a constant reminder of all the ways he failed.  

Once, this rag-tag group of survivors who had dubbed themselves The Daggers had numbered in the dozens. But now, there are only a handful left. And with supplies and food dwindling quickly, there is no telling how long it’ll be before the rest of them earn a place on the board.

As he pushes his way through the church doors, Jake recoils as he is hit with the full brightness of the sunny day. His headache which had previously dulled slightly in the cold shower came rushing back with a vengeance. Groaning, he digs his sunglasses out of the backpack Phoenix had thrown him earlier and places them on his face. They were a cheap plastic pair Coyote had picked up for him on one of his runs to the pharmacy over a year ago, but they at least cut out some of the glare.

Phoenix is leaning against the fence with her arms folded across her chest, a scowl carved deep into her face. Now that most of those originally in charge were no longer with them, the title of leader had fallen on her shoulders. For the past few months, she had done everything in her power to hold the group together despite the increasingly dire conditions—and one jackass of a drunk who makes her life that much more difficult.   

Next to her, Bob scans the area just beyond the fence, his blue eyes alert behind his cracked glasses. With his unusual prescription, it’s been impossible to find a replacement after they slipped off his face running from a pack of creatures. He made it safely to the church in one piece—one of his lenses did not. Yet, he has never once complained or made excuses for his impaired vision. 

They were the best of the remaining survivors and had become the only real hope the Daggers had left. Yet they spent most of their days dragging Jake’s sorry ass around to ensure he didn’t drink himself to death.

Jake had been like them once: always stepping up when volunteers were needed, doing what he could to fix what was broken, protecting the people within their group. But he hadn’t been that person for the past two years. Not since he had watched you devoured before his eyes as he stood on these very steps.

It was that moment he tried desperately to avoid every night in his dreams. Reliving that day over and over again. Knowing all the moments he could have done something differently or acted faster that would have saved you yet being unable to change anything. Just forced to hear your agonizing final screams before catching his last glimpse of you whispering his name…

He needs to find more alcohol.

“About fucking time,” Phoenix mutters under her breath, pushing herself off the fence.

Bob shoots her a stern look, one that softens as he turns his attention to the new arrival. “Thanks for helping us out, Jake. We appreciate the extra hands.”

“Not like she gave me much of a choice,” Jake mutters under his breath. But seeing the way Bob’s shoulders slump at his words, he does his best to smile at him. “But I’m here now so let’s do this.”

Bob’s smile returns and he nods happily at the other man. As he turns to exit the churchyard, Phoenix shoots Jake another dirty look. He knows despite Bob’s insistence that she keeps dragging Jake along with them, she’s afraid Jake’ll screw up and cost her or Bob their lives. And it’s a fair concern. After all, it’s his fault Bob was almost killed the time his glasses were damaged. Jake had been drunk on patrol and hadn’t seen the creatures until it was almost too late to warn the rest of the team. While Bob never blamed him, Phoenix did. She tried to be as supportive as possible when Jake first began to spiral, but after the incident with Bob, she only tolerated his antics for the sake of her partner. Though not even she despised this version of Jake as much as Jake despised himself. 

Jake knew what a failure and a screwup he had become. Yet as much as he wished he could pull himself together and become the man he used to be, he also knew that there was only one person who could help him do that. 

But you were never coming back.

It’s amazing how much the world can change in such a short amount of time. In the three short years since the creatures first appeared, the center of town is now virtually unrecognizable. Vines and various foliage scale the sides of all the buildings. Cars are abandoned in the middle of the street, some with their doors still open as their passengers fled from them. Every window has been dark since the power grid failed. And without the constant upkeep, everything is starting to decay.

The warehouse is no exception. Once bustling and full of life, it has now is a shadow of its former self. With very few windows save those by the entrance and no interior lights left to brighten the space, the interior becomes a black hole after walking just a few feet into it. However due to a collapse in the roof, at certain times of the day, a single shaft of light shines all the way down to the ground floor creating a small illuminated circle on the floor. 

It is in this small safe haven that Jake finds himself. Echos bounce off the walls of the cavernous space as he puts the finishing touches on the trap in front of him. Four months ago, a few survivors passing through had shared what they had discovered with The Daggers—a way to kill the creatures. Jake still doesn’t understand how it works, something to do with converting normal light into an artificial sunlight of sorts, but luckily there were those smarter than him around who understood and harnessed this knowledge into weapons. Since then, The Daggers had managed to take out a few of the creatures. However, they quickly learned that attacking the creatures in the large packs they usually hunted in resulted in costly casualties on both sides.

It was Phoenix’s brilliant idea to take the stealth approach instead of the head-on one. They began setting traps in the area using motion lights in the hopes of eliminating some of the creatures stalking near their hideout in the middle of the night when they were at their most active. So far, they have had promising results. 

Jake is almost done setting this trap. Then he can test it and use his flashlight to get himself from this shaft of light back outside. Hopefully, he’ll then have time to sneak off to try to find more alcohol before Phoenix and Bob return for him. He hasn’t checked the houses a few blocks to the east yet and maybe—

“Jake…”

Jake’s head snaps up as his heart freezes in his chest, the trap instantly forgotten. His eyes dart around the room searching for the source of the sound. But there’s no one else there. He’s alone…he’s always alone.

Yet, just as he begins to return to his job at hand, he sees something. Squinting, he peers deeper into the heart of the building and just makes out the faint outline of a single figure within the darkness.

Instincts kicking in, Jake draws his knife from his boot and drops into a defensive stance in the center of the beam of light, waiting for the attack he knows is coming. His eyes flicker around the space, searching the darkness for signs of the rest of the swarm, yet for now all he can see is the one in front of him. But he knows that can’t be it. The creatures hunt in groups, using their numbers to overwhelm and incapacitate their victims so escape is nigh on impossible. The only few loners they had come across over the years were ones that had been injured or were too malnourished to contribute to the next hunt.

But the figure standing before Jake doesn’t seem injured or blood-crazed. It stands straight and still, completely unmoving. For several moments, nothing happens. Though still cautious, Jake begins to relax his stance a little, wondering if his eyes or mind is just playing tricks on him.

But then, a voice cuts through the silence. “I was three blocks away when I caught your scent. I don’t know how, but I immediately knew it was you.”

The knife slips from Jake’s fingers, the clatter of metal on tile echoing around the cavernous room. The voice that he had not heard outside of his dreams for the past two years punches him in the chest, nearly bringing him to his knees as tears welled up in his eyes. “B-baby?”

There is a pause before the voice continues, unemotional and flat. “I should have bolted in any other direction, put as much space between us as possible but…I couldn’t. I’m selfish enough that I had to risk seeing you one last time.”

“Oh my god,” Jake breathes. “It’s really you.”

He takes a few stumbling steps towards the figure—towards you—but you draw back further into the shadows. “No! Stop! Stay in the light.” There is a panicked edge in your tone, the first sign of emotion you have let slip in, and it is enough to make Jake listen.

As much as he longs to launch himself into your arms, he reluctantly does what you ask. He lingers just shy of the darkness, the toes of his boots resting at the point where the last of the sunbeams fade on the tiles. 

“How are you here?” he asks, his voice breaking. 

“You know how.”

He did. It was a fear that had nestled in the back of his mind these past two years that he didn’t dare consider. Whether that was out of the fear of falling into despair or building up false hope, he didn’t know. But he had never let himself imagine this moment and, now that it was happening, he didn’t know what to do. 

Swallowing the lump forming in his throat, he says, “You said you caught my scent…Do I smell as sexy as you remember?”

A surprised snort of laughter echoes throughout the room as you are taken aback by his question. But when you speak, he hears tears in your voice, “Yeah, Jake. As sexy as always.”

Whatever cold, distant shell you had put in place when you first arrived crumbled and Jake can now hear the real you behind the words. Swallowing, he murmurs, “Please…let me see you.”

Your outline shifts in the darkness. “I-I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Please, baby. For the last two years, all I could see was that last memory of you. I need this.”

“No. Seeing me like this is not going to be any better than seeing me like that. I’ve changed.”

“So have I. But I love you and I’ll still love you no matter what.”

For a moment, there is only silence. Then you whisper, “Step to the other side of the light.”

Jake immediately scrambles backward, almost falling as he stumbles over the long-forgotten trap. But he makes it to the outer rim of the circle of light and waits. 

Slowly, your shape edges closer to the light. At first, Jake still can’t make out any details of the person in front of him. But when he does, his heart clenches in his chest. 

There is no denying that it is the woman he loves standing before him but yet it’s not the you he remembers. Your skin has been drained of its color and now resembles that of a corpse, cold and lifeless. Sharp, pointed teeth jut out your mouth over bloodless lips and your fingers end in claw-like talons. You are still wearing the same clothes you had on the day you were attacked but they are shredded and stiff with dried blood in various colors ranging from bright red to rusty-brown. Jake wonders how much of it is yours and how much is your victims.

Any lingering doubt he had about how you are here, any sliver of hope you had escaped your fate, is shattered instantly. This isn’t a miracle. It is a nightmare, a curse. 

But based on the gasp that escapes your trembling lips, you must be thinking the same thing as you get a good look at the man he has become. 

“Oh, Jake…” Your hands fly up to cover your mouth as your eyes continue to roam over his body. Yet even covered, he can see your jaw trembling as you cry, “Baby, what…We promised if something ever happened to the other, we wouldn’t give up. We would keep fighting.”

“I’m still here, aren’t I?” Jake snaps. But then he wilts under the weight of your gaze. Scrubbing his hand over his face, he whispers, “I almost ended it—a few times. Drugs, booze, even thought I’d take my nickname literally. Made a noose and everything. But the thing that always stopped me was that promise. So, yeah, I–I’ve been a bit of a mess since you—” he gestures at your transformed self “—and I’m sorry. I tried to be strong but losing you was the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. We were supposed to face this hellscape together and I didn’t know how to cope without you so I let myself become someone that I hate. But now that you’re back—”

“I’m not back, Jake. That’s not why—” You shake your head, letting your hands drop. “I shouldn’t be here. This was a mistake and I never should have come. I should have just let you think I was dead. I-I have to go.”

“No! Please–” As Jake takes a few steps across the circle of light, you cower back, retreating further into the darkness.

“Stop!” There is a pained quiver in your voice. “I’m barely controlling myself as it is. If you get closer…I can’t hurt you, Jake. I can’t. But I know if you get any closer, I will and there’ll be nothing I can do to stop it.”

Jake shakes his head. “No. I don’t believe it. You would never hurt me.”

“You don’t get it. It’s not a choice, it’s an undeniable force. It’s hard enough to control myself when I’m fully satiated, but I haven’t fed in almost a week. Your blood—” You squeeze your eyes closed tightly. When you open them again, they have darkened significantly. There is still some color in them, not the pitch-black orbs Jake is used to seeing when the creatures were attacking, but the change still makes him inhale sharply. “The venom doesn’t just turn us into these…these things. It drives us to hunt, to kill. And that need is neverending.”

It breaks Jake’s heart to hear the pain in your voice and he can’t imagine what you’ve been dealing with the past two years. However, as much as it horrifies him, he also wants to know more. “Wh-what does it feel like?”

You turn to gaze into the darkness surrounding you. “It’s like acid in my veins, a constant burning fire in my gut that only grows stronger if it’s not satisfied. Blood’s the only thing that soothes the pain for even a few hours, but it’s never enough. I’ve tried to stop myself, I have, but each time I drink it gets hard to fight. And with every life I take, I feel a little more of myself slip away. I’m not the woman you loved anymore, Jake. I’m just a monster with her face.”

Jake shakes his head with a firm set in his jaw. “No. I don't believe that. It's still you. Why else would you have looked for me? The woman I love is still here and she needed to see me just as much as I needed to see her.”

“Jake–” 

“And I don’t care what you think.” Without hesitation, Jake crosses the remainder of his little haven of sunlight and steps forward to join you in the inky darkness. You cower back again but he takes another step to maintain the same distance between you. “You're not going to hurt me. I know that. Because you're so strong and brave and you can fight this–”

“It’s not that simple—”

“Yes, it is.”

“Jake, stop—”

“No. Not until you believe that—”

“I've killed Daggers.”

Your admission hangs like a dense fog between you. Obviously, Jake had realized what being turned into a creature meant for your feeding habits, but he had been trying not to focus on that. However, now faced with the truth, Jake suddenly connects a few horrifying dots in his head. 

He swallows before asking, “Coyote?”

Last year, he had gotten there just a moment too late. There was nothing he could do but watch as what was left of his best friend was ripped apart by a mass of creatures. But then, just for a second before Fanboy grabbed his arm and pulled him away, he caught a flash of one of the creatures and he could have sworn…

Your eyes widen, clearly not expecting him to know that, but you nod slightly. Then, in a small voice, say, “And Rooster.”

“Roo….Rooster?” The truth about Coyote had been painful, yet regardless of who killed him, Jake had come to terms with his best friend’s death months ago. But Rooster…

He had left the group a few weeks ago after hearing a rumor of someone sounding suspiciously similar to his godfather leading another group out in the desert. They all knew it was dangerous but if anyone could make it, it would have been Rooster. Yet if what you said was true…

“I never wanted you to find out.” Tears begin to stream down your cheeks, thick, black goo that leaves streaks in their wake. “I tried to stop myself but I couldn't. Coyote was already being attacked when I found him and the blood…this thing took over. And the worst part was he…he recognized me just before I tore his throat out. There was this mix of elation I was ‘alive’ and horror at what I had become. I still see it when I close my eyes. With Rooster it was different. I was alone when I found him. We’ve been starving since you found a way to destroy us and I needed blood so badly. He was dead before he even knew I was there.”

This newest revelation is the last straw for Jake. A man can only process so much trauma at once before he reaches his breaking point. Falling to his knees, he hangs his head, tears dripping off his face onto the dusty tile beneath him as his shoulders shake with stifled sobs. 

“Jake…I…” Your voice is brimming with tears as Jake sees your feet take one hesitant step closer to him. But then, you stop. 

For a moment, there is only the sound of his soft cries echoing through the empty space. However, when you finally speak again, your voice has more of the defiance and strength he loves most about you. “You don’t understand what it’s like. When I slip into a frenzy, nothing in this world exists except for blood. Faces…names…past relationships…none of it means anything at that moment. All that’s left is the pure animalistic need to feed. It’s only after I’ve been sated that I come back, that I can remember what happened or what I did. Standing over what’s left of a person, realizing I’m to blame, knowing I’ve murdered them or I’ve forced them to become a monster just like me. I couldn’t stop myself from killing Coyote and Rooster, but I made sure neither of them could turn. They may not have deserved their deaths, but more than that, they didn’t deserve this afterlife. It was the least I could do for them. And I’m sorry it wasn’t more.”

You fall silent again, but Jake just continues to cry with no acknowledgment of what you said. After a moment of this, you plead, “Jake, talk to me. Tell me what you’re thinking. If you want me to go—” 

“Please…” Jake breathes, the weight of the past two years pressing down on him. “Please let me hold you.”

“W-what?” Based on the utter shock in your voice, that is not what you were expecting him to say.

It takes everything in him, but Jake lifts his eyes so they meet yours. “Baby, I need you in my arms again. To feel you, touch you, prove this is real. I have dreamed about you every night for two years. Horrible, bloody nightmares that have destroyed my life. I need you to chase those nightmares away.”

“Jake, have you not heard a word I’ve said? I’ve killed our friends and I’ll kill you too. Or worse, I’ll turn you.”

“I want you to,” he whispers.

“Jake!” Normally when discussions became this heated between you and you resorted to that sharp tone, your chest would be heaving as you became worked up. Yet this time, your heart isn’t beating and your lungs aren’t huffing air so it remains deathly still. “I can’t do that to you. I won’t condemn you to this life.”

“Please…” Jake sobs loudly, too emotionally and mentally drained to get to his feet and walk to you. “I can’t live without you anymore. I need us to be together, whatever that looks like.”

“You don’t know what you’re asking.”

“You’ve made it pretty clear. But I’m willing to bear the pain, the…the consequences of this choice if it means I can be with you. So, please, don’t make me spend one more second without you. Either kill me or turn me, but I can’t do this anymore.”

You stare at him for a long time, your darkened eyes not giving any hint as to what you are thinking. Then, slowly, you nod. “I don’t want to kill you or turn you, but I need you too. I think…I think I always knew when I came here that this is how it would go and I’m so sorry I wasn’t strong enough to stay away.”

“I’m so glad you didn’t.” Jake opens his arms, still kneeling on the floor. “Come here, baby.”

With stilted, hesitant steps, you begin to walk towards him. You balk a little as you get closer, fighting against the instinct to avoid the sunlight, but Jake is far enough in the shadows that you can reach him without crossing into the light. Slowly, you lower yourself to your knees in front of him and reach out. 

Jake can’t wait any longer. He grabs your hand and pulls you into his chest, squeezing you as tightly as he possibly can. Your skin is icy beneath his touch, but he doesn’t care. He’s holding you in his arms again and nothing else in the world matters. 

However, you apparently don’t share the same outlook. Your entire body goes rigid beneath him, every muscle tensing as he draws you in. He can feel you begin to tremble as an animalistic growl rumbles in your chest.

“Ja—I can’t—Let me go. Don’t wanna hurt—” You manage to choke the words out through a clamped-shut jaw. As your eyes turn completely black, your teeth begin to grow longer until they resemble true fangs. Several poke through your lips as you press your mouth firmly closed. You are still trying to save him despite everything.

Squeezing you tighter, Jake mutters, “No. It’s okay, baby. I want this. Just let go.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, black tears falling on his chest. “I’ll be as gentle as I can.”

And you sink your fangs into his neck.

Living up to your promise, there is only a small sting as your teeth break his skin. However, in seconds, your venom enters his bloodstream and Jake tries to jerk away from the searing pain. However, your clawed hand clamps firmly on his shoulder, forcing him to remain in place. The venom spreads throughout his system until every cell in his body is screaming out in agony. He wants to black out but his body won’t let him. The change is already occurring and he is being forced to be conscious for every last second of his human life.

As you drink, small sounds begin slipping out between your lips, reverberating against Jake’s skin. Soft moans and gasps that have Jake flashing back to all those times you were beneath him as he drove you closer and closer to the edge. And for just a second, he can bear the pain knowing he is giving you some semblance of pleasure.

However as a vice of white-hot agony squeezes around his lungs and heart, Jake begins to jerk in your grasp as he begins to suffocate. Feeling his distress, you slide your teeth out of his neck and press your blood-soaked lips to the wound. Running your hand through his hair, you coo, “It’s okay, baby. It’s almost over now. I can already taste the change beginning in your blood. But this next part is the worst. Fighting it just makes it harder. Try to relax and let it happen. And I’m right here, my love, forever.” Then you sink your teeth back into his neck.

The choking suffocating feeling only intensifies, but against every self-preservation instinct in Jake’s body, he tries to listen to your advice and just gives in. Closing his eyes, he begins to slip into a sort of meditative state. While the pain or pressure doesn’t lessen, the panic and tension ease slightly. And even once he feels his heart take its last beat and his lungs go still, he tries to remain in this headspace until you are finished.

He isn’t sure how long he is kneeling there before—

“No…”

Jake picks up the soft sound as it is breathed across the empty warehouse, his ears already tuning into sounds humans shouldn’t be able to hear. His eyes flutter open and just over your shoulder, he can see Bob and Phoenix bathed in sunlight standing at the entrance to the building. Bob has tears in his eyes, his lips whispering your name in horror as he watches the growing gory mess you are making of Jake’s neck. He glances back and forth between Jake and Phoenix, silently pleading with her to find a way to fix this.

But Phoenix just stares at the pair of reunited lovers, her jaw set tightly. And Jake knows she understands. Phoenix always understands. 

Jake is weak from blood loss and pain, but he manages the slightest of nods. Lifting two fingers to her forehead, Phoenix gives Jake a small salute in return.

Then she raises her flashlight.

As the beam of light strikes your shoulder, your mouth instantly disappears from Jake’s throat with an agonized hiss as you try to flee from the pain. But using what strength he has left, Jake holds you in place. 

The betrayal on your face as you turn to look at him almost outweighs the pain. Jake knows you must think this was a trick, that he must have been stalling you all along just for this moment. Yet, he had meant every word he said.

Smiling as every cell in his body begins to burn differently from before, he whispers, “Together.” And he holds up his hand which is cracking and disintegrating in the light just like yours.

Though still pained, your face softens as you realize what he is doing. Transformation or death, those had been his choices. However, it turns out it wasn’t an “or” but an “and”.

Reaching out, you link your fingers with his, your skin flaky and fragile in his grasp. You snuggle your head against the unbitten crook of his neck, whimpering slightly as the light does its job, and you whisper back, “Together.”

Jake wraps his other arm around you and holds you close, silently vowing to never let go again.

The last thing he sees before his world slips away is the strangely beautiful swirl of particles of your two disintegrating bodies intermingling in the beam of sunlight. 

Taglist: @ohtobeleah, @green-socks, @lorecraft, @heart-0n-fire, @mayhem24-7forever,

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@winterassassin1804, @seresinhangmanjake, @seitmai

[justwhisperingfantasies]

Girl At The Rock Show Part 5

Characters: Jensen Ackles (xreader). Mac(o.c), Jared Padalecki. Val (o.c). Phil (o.c)

Warnings: Language, Fluff, Talk of abusive/controlling relationship. A hint of PTSD from an abusive relationship maybe. Let me know if I forgot any. 

Summary: Getting dragged to that live show might have been the best thing that ever happened to you. Now you are falling. Falling fast.

Word count: 6.268 words

A/N: Part 5 Y'all. I am having so much fun with this story. Thank you all for the kind words and the inspiration to keep writing.🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰 Hope y'all enjoy it. 💗

Please don't copy my work and post it elsewhere.

Like, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated 💗

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

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{} Reader’s P.O.V {}

You plopped in your bed with a heavy sigh. You lay there replaying the day in your head.

“Hey, do you still need a ride to the dealership tomorrow?” Mac asked from your doorway.

“Not necessarily, I can Uber if something came up.”

“It’s not that. I just didn’t know if you wanted Jen.”

“No.” You cut her off. “Sorry, that came out bitchy.”

“You, ok?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do I need to hurt him?”

You chuckled. “No.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

“I don’t know.” You sighed again. Just then your phone buzzed. It was a picture from Jensen. “Well, shit!” you said opening the message.

“What?”

“I forgot about my cowboy hat.” She laughed at your pouty face.

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{} Jensen’s P.O.V {}

He put your bags in the armchair then threw his keys on the coffee table as he slumped onto the couch.  Somehow his house seemed even more empty tonight. He slid his phone out of his pocket debating whether to send you a picture of him in your hat. Fuck it. He jumped up and tossed his hat. He got the angle and his smile just right then snapped the picture.

As he waited for a reply, he figured he had better call Jared. It only rang once.

“Finally, I was just about to call in a search party.”

Jensen chuckled. “What’s up, man?”

“Nothing just hanging out.”

“Yea. What are Gen and the kids doing?”

“Jensen!”

“What?” Jensen asked laughing.

“Tell me about her.”

“Like I said earlier. She just moved to Austin. I met her at the show last night and I showed her around Austin today.”

“And?”

“She smells like caramel and sandalwood, likes Garth Brooks, plays pool better than me, likes Zeppelin, has great banter, and she’s fun. And she’s smart J.P. She went to Columbia. She’s a Cowboys’ fan adjacent.”

Jared chuckled. “What does that mean?”

“Her mama was a Cowboys fan.”

“So, you like her?” He could hear the smile in Jared’s voice.

“No, I just take random girls all over the city and spend the whole day with them.”

“Sarcastic answer. So, you really like her.” Jensen sighed heavily. “What’s so wrong with that?” Jared asked.

“24 hours Jared. I’ve known her for 24 hours.”

“Dude, the first time I met Gen I knew there was something special about her.”

“Yea well, I don’t have the luck you do.”

“Eh. Maybe you’re luckier than you think Jensen.”

“What if.” There was a beep. “Hold on.” He tapped the speaker phone option and opened the text.

Y/N: I expect that hat back in the same exact condition I left it in Jensen Ross.

Jensen chuckled.

“What?!” Jared asked. Jensen explained about your hat and read the message out loud. “Middle naming you already huh?”

“I guess so.”

“When are you gonna see her again?”

“Not sure. She’s supposed to call me tomorrow after she gets her car.”

“Listen Ackles, you can sit around all day and play that what-if game. It’s a waste of time. I’m not saying hop on a plane and head to Vegas, but obviously, you like her. So stop being scared about it and just take it one day at a time.”

“You’re right, but it’s easier said than done my friend.”

Jared chuckled. “Which part?”

“Both.”

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{} Jensen’s P.O.V {}

He stopped mid-bicep curl when “call from (y/n)” came through his earbuds, a smile spread across his face when he heard her name.

He sat the dumbbell down and tapped his earbud. “Well, hey there, sweetheart.”

“Hello, Mr. Ackles.” His smile got bigger when he heard her voice. “Are you at a club? Sir, It’s 10 in the morning.”

He chuckled. “I’m at the gym.” He started walking toward the door. “Hold on a sec”

“Wanna call me back?”

“No.” He stepped outside. “Better?”

“Yes.  So, the gym huh?”

He smiled. “Yep.”

“What are you wearing?”

“Nothing…”

“I’m gonna need proof.”

Throwing his head back he let out a laugh. “How’s your morning going?”

“Pretty good. I got my car and called Erica.”

“Well?”

“I have an interview tomorrow.”

“That’s exciting! Congrats.”

“Thank you. Still a wee bit nervous though.”

“Don’t be you will crush it.”

“Speaking of crushing it, do you wanna finish your workout?”

“Gimme 20 minutes?”

“You don’t have to rush.”

“I was almost done anyhow.”

“Ok then. Talk to you then.”  

He smiled. “Lookin forward to it.”

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{} Reader’s P.O.V {}

Mac sat down in your car as you said goodbye. “What no argument on who hangs up first?” She said, smiling at you.

You rolled your eyes, “Which coffee shop would you like to go to?”

“Ghoul. You will freaking love it.” She put the address in your maps app. You started following the directions. “So, you called him?”

“I called him.” You confirmed.

“And?”

“And nothing. We talked for a few minutes, teased a little, and he was at the gym, so I told him to finish and call me later.” You said following the curve to E St Elmo Rd.

She nodded and turned the volume up as Burin’ For You by Blue Oyster Cult started to play. The two of you jammed for 3 more songs before making it to the coffee shop.

“Well, that was fun.” You admitted as you parked on the street.

“Just like old times.” She said opening her door.

“This is cute.” You said as you walked past the picnic tables to the coffee truck.

“I knew you would like it.”

You looked over the menu. Mac ordered her drink and then looked at you “Maple boob butter please.” The barista gave you the total and you handed her your card.

“(Y/N)!!” who the hell is yelling my name in Austin you thought as you turned around.

Mac didn’t even have to turn around. “Is Jared Padalecki really yelling your name right now?”

“Babe, I hate to tell you this, but if you know their voice without a face, you may have watched the show too many times”

She turned around, “No such thing!”

“Well, well, if it ain’t the O.G Dean.” You said as Jared approached you making him chuckle. “How are.” He cut you off with a hug. Making you let out a small gasp.

“I’m good,” he said releasing you. “How are you?”

“Good.” You told him and Mac cleared her throat.

“Jared. This is Mckinnley. My Supernatural and everything about Jensen and Jared obsessed best friend.

He smiled. “Howdy, Mckinnley.” He stuck his hand out. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Mac, call me Mac.” She shook his hand

“Mac” he repeated, and she giggled “How come you haven’t got her to watch Supernatural yet?”

“I have been trying. James was a stupid.”

“Mac!”

“Shit I’m sorry.”

The barista called out your order and Mac turned to grab your drinks.

“Should I ask?” Jared asked you.

“Long story short. There was a thing, but the thing is gone now. I have every intention of watching it.”

“A thing?”

“My ex.”

“Oh.”

“Yea. He was a jealous, manipulative, controlling douche. I wasn’t allowed to watch Supernatural.”

“And he can rot in hell,” Mac said holding your coffee out to you.

“Look, I shouldn’t have pried. I’m sor”

“Jared it's ok.” You took a drink. Damn, it was good. “Jensen knows.”

“Not my business.”

“Yes, it is. He’s your best friend.”

“Jared, you want your usual?” The barista asked him.

 “Yes, please.” he walked to the window and handed her his card. “Hey,” he turned back to you. “I have an odd request.”

“Hit me, Padalecki.”

 He got out his phone and tapped a couple of things.  “Here.” He handed it to you. The screen was set up to FaceTime Jensen. “Just hit the green button.

“Jared,”

“Oh, come on. he’ll be so confused,”

“Ok.” Jared chuckled as you tapped the icon.

Jensen answered but all you saw was sky. “Hey bud, can I call you back, I promised I would call...”

“Me?”

He looked at the phone when he heard your voice. “Hey!”

“Hi.” You giggled.

“Um got a question for you sweetheart.”

“Shoot.”

“Why do you have Jared’s phone?”

“I pick-pocketed him last night and his phone is just way better than mine.”

Jensen, Jared, and Mac all laughed.

“Why do I hear his dumb laugh then?”

“Hey, buddy.” Jared leaned into the screen.

“What’s up?’

“Hanging out, Grabbing some coffee.”

Jensen nodded. “So, you guys hang out now?”

“Well yeah didn’t you hear?” you asked, and Jensen raised his eyebrows “I’m Jared’s new best friend.”

“Sorry, Bruh” Jared teased

“Alright, I’ll take Mac.”

“Um, the hell you will.”

“You can’t have both of them. That’s just not fair.”

“Well doll face, sometimes life just isn’t far.”

Jensen laughed. The barista called out Jared’s name and he went up to the window.

 “Hey Jared, I’m not stealing your phone. Just going to sit down.” Jensen laughed again.

You and Mac went over to a table and sat. Jared joined you after he grabbed his coffee.

“So, how’d you end up hanging out with Padalecki?” Jensen asked.

“Mac and I wanted coffee. So, we came to Ghouls, and guess who we ran into?

“Oh my gosh. Who?”

“Jared freaking Padalecki!”

“No. Freaking. Way.”

“True story.”

“Hey, can I call you right back?”

“Sure.” He puckered his lips and hung up.

“Ok then.”  You said disappointed.

“I got a 10-dollar bill that says he will be here soon,” Jared said.

“I’m not taking that bet,” Mac said.

“So, (y/n) how was the rest of your date?” Jared asked you.

“Good.”

“That’s all I get? Where’d you go after Paperboy?”

“Wimberly Zipline Adventures.” You narrowed your eyes at him. “Did he really not tell you about it?”

“Well, we didn’t really focus on the activities.”

“You gonna tell me what that means exactly?”

“Nope,” he pretended to lock his lips.

You rolled your eyes. “So, Where’s Gen? How are the kiddos?”

He chuckled. “Gen is working today. I dropped the kids off at school earlier.” He took a drink and smirked. “What’s new with you? Where’s your boyfriend?”

“On his way.” Mac chimed in.

“I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Yet.” Mac and Jared said at the same time.

You sighed. “I do have an interview tomorrow though”

 “Where’s your interview at?” Jared asked

“Pediatric Associates of Austin.”

“You’re a freaking doctor?”

“Not technically. I would be a physician assistant. I dropped out my second year of residency.”

“Close enough (y/n)” Jared said.

“That’s what I said.” Mac agreed.

“Can I ask why you dropped out?”

Mac looked at you. “it’s ok. My mama got sick and didn’t make it. I lost motivation for medicine,”

“I am so sorry (y/n)”

“Thank you. It was a while ago.” You took another drink. “After debating with Mac, soul searching, and a talk with Jensen I decided I wanted back in.”

Jared looked up and you followed his gaze. You saw a big black Chevy drive by.

“Speak of the devil,” Jared said and you looked at him with furrowed brows. “That was Jensen.”

“In the Silverado?”

“Yes.”

You whipped out your phone.

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

Y/N: What do you want to drink?

Jensen: I’ll get it.

Y/N: Stop being stubborn and tell me.

Jensen: Iced Americano with cream, please.

Y/N: Was that so hard?

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“I’ll be right back.” You walked up to the window and ordered his drink. You turned around and your knees went weak when you saw him walk around the corner. It baffled you how someone could look so stunning in gym clothes, but he did. He would look in anything or nothing. You shook the dirty thoughts out of your mind. He nodded at Jared as he walked past him. Your heartbeat quickened with every step closer. “Hey there cowgirl.” He said when he got to you.

You chuckled and grabbed his face, bringing his lips down to yours. His arms wrapped around your waist and lifted you off the ground as he kissed you back.

“Well, hello there, Mr. Ackles.” You said when the kiss ended. He smiled his dazzling smile, and he put your feet back on the ground.

“Here Jensen.” The barista said smiling at you guys as she held his coffee out the window “Thanks, Val. “He unwrapped one of his arms and took the coffee. “And thank you.” He kissed your cheek.

“No problem.”  You guys turned to your friends who were in a debate about something.

Mac looked up and saw you walking back over. “Shh,” she told Jared. “But this isn’t over.” he nodded. You sat back in the same spot and Jared scooted so Jensen could sit in front of you.

“So, (y/n) I hear you’re a pool shark.”

“Oh, you did?”

“Yep.”

“From which one?” He pointed a finger at Jensen.

You squinted your eyes at Jensen. He looked up “Look. A cool-looking bird.” Jared looked up, You and Mac started laughing.

“Jensen, did (y/n) tell you she has an interview tomorrow?” Mac asked

“She did,” Jensen said

“Did she tell you where?” Jared asked.

“No, she didn’t.” He looked at you

“Pediatric Associates of Austin.” You told him.

“Dude, that’s you take your kids.” He turned to Jared.

“I know.”  Jared finished his coffee.

“Why didn’t you say that when I told you?” you asked Jared.

“Well, I was caught off guard. Jensen said you went to Columbia, but he didn’t say anything about med school.”

You raised your eyebrows and looked at Jensen. He looked at the sky and pointed. You rolled your eyes and looked back at Jared. “Yep. Pre-med, med school, Internship, and the year and half of residency I did was all through Columbia.”

“Damn. So, you’re like a genius.”

“I wouldn’t”

Mac cut you off. “Yes, and don’t even bother with any trivia game.”  

Your cheeks turned pink. “She’s over-exaggerating.”

Mac shook her head and mouthed no I’m not at Jared and Jensen, they chuckled.

“Well, kids. I gotta get this shit done.”

“Aw come one Padalecki.” Jensen teased.

“Dude, Gen will kill me.”

“Yea… I wouldn’t risk it.  Coffee for the road?” Jensen asked.

“Sure.”

“You ladies want anything else?”

“None for me. Thank you though.” Mac said. Jensen looked at you.

“I’m good. Thanks.” He winked at you.

They guys walked back up to the coffee truck.

“So, I introduce you to Jared Padalecki and you fight with him? What the hell?”

She laughed. “We were not fighting. Just a little debate.”

“A heated debate.”

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{} Jensen’s P.O.V {}

“So, Mac let something slip before you got here and (y/n) told me about her ex,” Jared confessed. While they waited in line.

Jensen pressed his lips in a hard line. “I’d love 5 minutes in a room with him.”

“Seems like you both have been through some rough shit.”

“Her more than me.”

“Jensen. Having the girl, you loved give up because of something you couldn’t control is not easy.”

“It was a mutual decision.”  He said as they moved up.

“Still not easy.”

He sighed “Padalecki, get to the point.”

 Jared continued. “Look I’m just saying I understand your hesitation now. I don’t think it’s necessary, but I understand it.”

“She is pretty great huh?” a smile spread across his face.

“Yeah, I haven’t seen you smile this much in years.” They moved up “Does she know you’re going to Vancouver tomorrow?” Jensen’s smile faded.

“I mentioned it yesterday.” He signed “Full disclosure, I’m not looking forward to it.”

“I know, but 2 weeks really isn’t that long. And it's not like you won’t be texting and Facetiming whenever you can.”

“Good point.” He sighed again.

“Trust me Ackles. I got a good feeling about this.”

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{} Reader’s P.O.V {}

Jensen and Jared made their way back over to the table.

“Mac it was nice meeting you. We will finish that discussion next time.” He held his hand out

“Yes, and you will see my side.” She teased and shook his hand. He chuckled.

You got up as Jared walked over to you. “Einstein.” He opened his arms.

“Sasquatch.” You said opening yours.

“Always a pleasure.” He said as he squeezed you.

“Same, Next time bring the wife. K?” you said sitting back down.

“Will do.”

“Love you buddy.” Jensen put his fist out.

Jared bumped it with his own “Love you more.”  He said turning to walk away.

“So, what are you ladies doing today?”  Jensen turns towards you and Mac.

You turned to Mac. “Uh not sure yet. Maybe hit some shops, or maybe just ride around and jam out.”

“Oh, yeah I wanna see this car.”

“Ok.” You picked up your empty cup and then grabbed Mac’s.

“Thanks, babe.”

“No problem.” You said as you stood up and headed for the trash can. You could hear them talking, but they were talking too low to make out the words. You threw the trash away and turned back around. You gave them a silly grin when you found both looking at you.  

“Y’all ready?” you asked when you got back to the table.

“Yep,” Mac said getting up. “I’m gonna grab a water. Go ahead. I’ll check up.”

“You sure?” you asked. She widened her eyes at you “Alright.” You started walking toward the street. Jensen wrapped his arm around your shoulders.

“Is it the Camaro?” He asked

“How did.”

“45-day tags kind of gave it away darlin’”

“He’s pretty huh?”

“He?”

“Yes, he. I’m still not sure of a name yet though. He smirked at you. “no.”

He chuckled. “You don’t even know what I was thinking.”

“Yes, I do, and no.”

“Fine.” He teased. “I still get to drive it right?”

You clicked your tongue, “Well I guess. 2 outta 3 ain't bad”

“Um, What?”

“Well, you played with my hair, and you do the nose thing, but”

“Really?!” you shrugged and raised your eyebrows. He stopped and spun you to face him. He slid his hand onto your cheek, “Baby you are so beautiful.” In a silly over-dramatic tone.

“Jerk!”

“Bit.” He stopped himself and pressed his lips in a tight line.

You gasped “What?!”

“Fuck! No, I’m sorry.” He closed his eyes and hung his head. “I’m sorry. It’s a Supernatural thing between Sam and Dean. Sam calls Dean a jerk, and Dean calls Sam a bitch.” He rambled on  “I really wasn’t trying to call you a bitch, it’s like a reflex. I…”

“Jensen. I know about the bitch, jerk thing.” You cut him off “Mac and Zoey do it all the time. I’m sorry I was trying to mess with you.”

“Seriously?”

“I’m sorry.” You brought your hands over your face. “I didn’t mean to.”

“Hey.” He said as he grabbed you and pulled you into his arms. Burying your face into his chest You inhaled the scent of Oud Wood. He tightened his arms, and you could feel the tension in your muscles melt. He sighed in relief. “I thought I really fucked up.”

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled in his chest.

“Sweetheart, stop apologizing. I’m just glad you didn’t punch me and walk away.” His chest vibrated on your face as he chuckled, and you couldn’t help but joy in.

“But ya know something Ackles,” you said as you looked up at him. He raised his eyebrows “You’re pretty cute when you ramble.”

He laughed and squeezed you into his chest again.  

“Can I take you out to dinner tonight?”

“Hmm, I don’t know I’m gonna have to check my schedule.”  You teased.

“I’ll pick you up at 6?”

“sounds good.”

He kissed your forehead then your lips. “I’ll see you later sweetheart.”

“Looking forward to it.” He chuckled as he headed for his truck.

Mac stepped beside you “You don’t happen to have a sexy dress for a fancy dinner, do you?” you gave her a blank stare. “Alright, let’s go.”

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{} Reader’s P.O.V {}

You could hear Mac cackling from the other side of the fitting room door.

“Aw poor Jensen,” She tried to check her breath.

You stepped into the lavender dress and opened the door. “Zip me?” you said as you turned your back to her. “I know I felt so bad.” Mac got up and zipped the dress. You looked at yourself in the big 3-way mirror, “I don’t think this one is it boo.” You said posing trying to like it.

“I like the black one better,” Mac told you.

“Me too, but it's so low cut.” You sighed. You walked back to the open fitting room door. Turning around you asked “Hey Mac you think I took it too far? Do you think it will cause..."

“No (y/n). I think you are overthinking this. It will be fine.” You sighed.” Stop he’s not like that and you know it.” You nodded and went back into the fitting room.

“Hey, how’s it going?” the sales lady asked as she walked up to Mac.

“I didn’t like the lavender one. I like the black one, but didn’t like how low cut it was.” You told her as you wiggled into another black dress. You didn’t like this one either.

“Maybe dresses just aren’t for me.” You said, opening the door.

“Oh, I like that one,” Mac said. “But you don’t. Ok next.”

“How many am I going to try before we give up?”

“We are not giving up!” The sales lady chimed in “I have an idea.” She started towards the front of the store.

“She is determined,” Mac said playfully making you smile. The sales lady made her way back to you.

“Alright, Try this one.” Then she handed you a white vintage western-looking dress. You took it and headed back into the dressing room.

You turned to look at yourself in the mirror. “Oh my gosh,” you said pulling the belt around your waist and buckling it. “Oh my gosh, you repeated.”

“Did we find it?” Mac asked.

You came out of the fitting room and twirled. “I love it.”

“Babe!” Mac said, smiling. “That is it. And your boots will go great with it. Aw, and he always calls you cowgirl.”

You giggled. “Well, how could I say no now.”

“Oh, wait right there. We got a necklace the other day that would look great with this.” She went and grabbed it. You lowered your head for her to put it around your neck. “Aw, you look incredible.”

“Thank you. I’ll take ”

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{} Jensen’s P.O.V {}

He wrapped the towel around his waist as he stepped out of the shower.  He made his way across the bedroom floor hurrying to get to his phone before it went to voicemail.

“Jay-rod.” He said after hitting the green icon.

“Hey buddy, I have some bad news.

“What’s wrong?”

“We think Odette has an ear infection. The only time the pediatrician was available was 2. Gen stayed in Houston they have another random acts meeting tomorrow.  What time do you have to be at the airport?”

“2:30, but dude don’t worry about me. Is she ok?”

“Yeah, I gave her some Motrin. It helped with the fever and pain. She’s sleeping now.”

“Ok, I hope she feels better, give her lovins for me.”

“Will do. You could always ask (y/n) for a ride, ya know.”

Jensen rolled his eyes. “I’m not gonna ask her to be my taxi. And I don’t know what time her interview is.”

“I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.”

“No.” he turned on his hair trimmer and started trimming around his beard.

“Whatcha doin'?”

“Getting ready for my date.”

“Oh. I’ll let you finish. Have fun bud, Talk to you later.”

“Later.”

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{} Reader’s P.O.V {}

You looked in the mirror when Mac finished your hair. “Oh, I love it.” She did a half-up going back in braids look and curled the hair that rested on your shoulders.

“Good. Now sit down and let me do your makeup.”

“Nothing too.”

“Yes, I know nothing too fancy. Plus, you have neutral colors on anyway.”

“Alright love,” she said as she finished. “You look freaking stunning!”

You stood up and looked in your bathroom mirror. “Mac you are a miracle worker.”

“Please. You’d be gorgeous without it.”

You smiled. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

“What time is it?” you asked sliding your boots on.

Mac looked at her watch “5:45. At least you’re not freaking out this time.”

“Yeah, not on the outside.” You heard the doorbell. “Early again.”

“That’s not a bad thing.” She said walking out of your room to go get the door.

You took one last look in the mirror and headed downstairs.

You heard Mac and Jensen in the living room. You took the back stairs to walk out of the kitchen. You stopped mid-step in the living room doorway when you saw him. His shaggy brown hair framed his face. That black suit jacket with brown accents and a black button-up shirt underneath. Black slacks that hugged his hips. You swallowed hard as your heart raced. He licked his lips, and a smile spread over his face.

“Well look at you cowgirl.” He said as he started walking towards you. “You look absolutely stunning.”

“Me? Have you looked in a mirror, Mr. Ackles.?”

“I’d rather look at you,” he said with raised brows. Your cheeks turned pink, and he smirked. “You ready?”

“Yep.” He gestured for you to go first. You started walking towards the door and he followed.

“Do you wanna take my truck or your car?”  He said shutting the door behind him.

“Depends, can you drive a stick?” He gave you an unamused look and you giggled. “We can take Beau if you want. I did tell you that could drive him”

He chuckled. “Beau?”

“Yeah, Mac gave me the idea.” He smiled when the realization showed in your eyes. “Motherfucker. Let me guess, one of your characters.”

“Yeah kinda.”

“Dang it. I really liked Beau.” You admitted walking to the car.

“What Beau were you thinking of?”

“Well, Duke of course.”

He came around to the passenger side and opened your door. Then he made his way to the driver’s side. He sat down and readjusted the seat and mirror. “Why do you have to change it?

“Because it’s lame to name him after one of your characters. Don’t you think?”

“No, and technically you didn’t name him after Beau Arlen.” He started the car. Beau’s engine purred. “He sounds good though. What year is it?”

“He is a 2019 Zl1 6-speed with a V8 and 650 horsepower.” He smiled at you. “Yeah, he’s badass.” Your phone connected via Bluetooth and Teardrops on My Guitar starts to play. He looked at you “What? It’s a cute song. If you have a problem with Taylor Swift, I don’t think this will work Ackles.”

“I didn’t say anything, I just didn’t peg you for a swiftie.”

“I don’t think I’d be considered a swiftie, but I like her music.”

He nodded as he put the car in reverse and backed onto the street.

“Don’t stall him now.” He squinted at you. He rolled along without any problems. He turned right onto Nuckols Crossing Rd and then right again onto Teri Rd. You stayed silent watching him drive. He caught you and chuckled. He Turned right onto N Interstate 35 Frontage Rd then merged all the way left to take the ramp onto I-35 N.

Once on the highway, he put the cruise control on. Butterflies came to life in your stomach when he rested his hand on your bare thigh. You took a deep breath.

“What no car games tonight?” He said, smiling. You couldn’t form words. All you could think about was his hand sliding up under the hem of your dress... “Babe?” His raised voice snapped you out of your dirty thoughts.

You answered with pink cheeks. “Yea?”

“You alright over there?”

“Yep. What’s up?”

“Whatcha thinkin' about?”

“Nothing. Just enjoying the ride.” Oh, and you sure would enjoy that ride. You relax when he downshifted to slow down for traffic and you let out an involuntary sigh of relief.

“You sure you’re, ok?”

“Yep, never better.”  Just thinking about how much I wanna jump your bones. No big deal. Traffic started to go. He got back on to the speed limit and set the cruise again. Your leg tensed this time when he laid his hand back on your thigh. Trying to stop your thoughts you took a deep breath.

“Does my hand on your thigh bother you?”

“No.”

He looked at you with a malicious grin on his face. “Oh really?” he slid his hand up an inch. Your leg muscles tense harder as your core twitches.

“Really.”

He slid his hand another inch up, stopping at the hem of your dress. “You know I can feel your muscles tensing up right?”

“And?”

“And so, I know you’re lying.”

“No. You asked if it bothered me.”

“Yeah.”

You smirked at him “That's not the adjective I would use.”

He chuckled as he downshifted to slow down for exit 234B then got into the left turn lane at the light. Heaven by Bryan Adams started to play. He started singing and the butterflies came back.  He slowed down for the next light. You sighed and looked at it at him. He smiled and kept singing. The light turned green, he grabbed your hand and held it around the shifter as he shifted into first gear. “Oh, once in your life you find someone. Who will turn your world around. Bring you up when you're feelin' down” Your heart melted as he sang along.

He hit the next 3 lights green and slowed for the fourth turning his right blinker on. “I should have brought your hat. It would look good with that dress.”

“Am I ever going to get my hat back?”  you teased.

“Eh maybe. I’ve grown quite fond of it.”

“It’s just a cowboy hat there sweetheart.”

“Yeah well, it reminds me of you.” Your cheeks turned pink again and he smiled.

“Well, can you at least tell me where to find it? So it's easier for me when I break into your house to retrieve it after you leave?”

His head raised as he let out a laugh. “It’s in my bedroom.”

“Hm. Maybe I should break in before you leave.”

He looked at you and raised his eyebrows. “That could be fun.” You giggled.

He turned as the light turned green and then left at the next light. He slowed down and pulled into the valet lane.

“Really? You’re gonna let some valet drive my Beau?” you teased.

“He will be fine.” You crossed your arms. ���if anything happens to him I will buy you a new one.”

“Shh, you will hurt his feelings. You can’t just replace him.”

He chuckled. “You’re being ridiculous.”

You shrugged and started laughing. The valet came over and opened your door for you. “Thank you.” You said as you took his hand to get out.

Jensen handed the valet the keys and slipped him some cash. “Take good care of him ok?”

“Yes sir.” The man said handing Jensen the valet slip.

Jensen held his elbow out. You slipped your hand into it. “There. That make you feel better?”

“A little.” You said as the two of you walked to the front door. The sign read Dean’s Italian Steakhouse. “Really?!”

Jensen chuckled. “What? They have the best steaks here.” He said opening the door for you. You rolled your eyes and walked in. With the soft lighting and the chandeliers hanging from the ceilings, this place was so pretty.

His hand found the small of your back walking to the hostess stand. “Mr. Ackles. Your table is ready for you. She eyed him up and down. Well, I guess I’d have to get used to that. “Right this way.”  You followed the hostess to a table in the back corner with 4 chairs around it. Jensen pulled a chair out and gestured for you to sit down. He scooted you up and sat in the chair beside you.

“Pulling out all the stops tonight are we?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He grinned.

“Phil will be right with you.” She flashed a flirty smile at Jensen, but he didn’t notice. You had all of his attention.

“thank you.” He said. She walked away annoyed. You chuckled. “What?” he asked.

“You really didn’t notice?”  you said as you found the wine list.

“Oh, I did. I’m just not interested.”  He said, making you smile.

“Hello. My name is Phil I will be your waiter this evening. Would you like to start with some wine or a cocktail?”

“I’ll have a glass of Riesling please”

“And for you sir?”

“Scotch and soda please.”

“I will be right back.”

Jensen leaned back in his chair. “You really do look amazing tonight.”

You looked up from the menu and smiled at him. “thank you. So do you.” He smiled back. “You don’t need a menu?”

“Nope. I already know what I want.” He winked at you

Phil came back with your drinks. “Do you need more time?” he asked.

Jensen looked over at you. “Go ahead.” You told him. You debated between 2 dishes. You made your mind up and ordered after Jensen was done.

“So, I have a question,” Jensen said. You looked at him with raised eyebrows. “Where did you live before New York?”

“How do you know there’s a before New York?”

“You say y’all, you know the Dukes of Hazzard, and you like country music. I’m thinking somewhere south.”

“So, I can’t be a Yankee and like those things?”

“Also, you said you talked your mom into moving to New York after your dad passed.” He chuckled. “And you just used the term Yankee.”

“Wow look at you Ackles, you paid attention. I grew up in a very small town in Michigan. So, no I’m not from the South, but I inherited the mannerisms and taste from my mama.”

“Let me guess. Texas?”

“Did ya think she was randomly a Cowboys fan? We had planned to move back down here once I got my surgical licenses and certifications.”

“Was she from Dallas?”

“No, Canton.” You took a drink of your wine.

“So how did you meet Mac?”

“Oh, she’s from Saugatuck too.” He gave you a confused look. “That very small town in Michigan I mentioned.  I really didn’t think I had a shot at Columbia, so my mom’s college was my backup school. Mac and I both got accepted at Texas University. She understood that I couldn’t say no when I finally got my acceptance letter from Columbia.”

“Interesting.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” You took another drink, “Your turn.”

“Oh, darlin’ I really ain’t interesting.”

“Right.” You said in a sarcastic tone.

He chuckled. “What do you wanna know?”

“Everything.” His cheeks turned pink as a grin spread on his face.

“Miss your Seafood Risotto and your New York strip. Would you like another glass of wine?”

You looked at Jensen. “I can drive if you wanna drink babe.”

“You sure?” Jensen nodded.” Yes please.”

“Coming right up.”

You were looking at his steak as he cut it. “Can I help you?” He asked.

“Nope.” You looked back at your plate. “Just looks pretty tasty.”

He chuckled. “Ya know you’re lucky you're cute.” He said as he held a bite in your direction. “I usually don’t share my steak.”

“Aw, how sweet. Thank you for letting me put your meat in my mouth.” You took the bite, and he threw his head back laughing. “Damn. That’s a good steak.”

“Probably the best meat you’ve ever had in your mouth huh?”

“I don’t know haven’t had it yet.” He laughed again.” Oh, you meant the steak. Yes, it’s delicious.”

“Yet being the keyword there.” He smirked. “What did you get again?” You fed him a bite. “That’s pretty damn good too.”

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{} Jensen’s P.O.V {}

“Hey, what time is your interview tomorrow?” He asked as he sat down in the driver’s seat of her car.

“8:30. Why?”

“Just wondering.” Should I ask her for a ride? He debated

“What time is your flight?” she asked.

“I have to be at the airport at 2:30.” Or would it be harder to leave?

He pushed the clutch in as he shifted the car into first and gave it gas. “Is Jared taking you to the airport?” she asked.

“Well, that was the plan, but his youngest has an ear infection and Gen ended up staying in Houston. So, he’s gotta take her to the doctor.” He explained stopping at the red light.

“Do you need a ride?”

“You don’t have to.”

“Jensen. It’s not a problem. Mac has to work tomorrow. So literally the only thing I have planned is my interview.”

“I’d appreciate it.” He grabbed her hand and laced their fingers around the gear stick again.

“Like I said. Not a problem.” He heard her take a deep breath, “So any more plans for tonight Ackles?”

“Maybe. Did you have something in mind?”

“Maybe. Is your place far?” She waggled her eyebrows.

“Um..” Really? He was at a loss for words. “N- no, not too far.”

His body tensed as she leaned towards him. “Good.” His breath hitched when he felt her warm breath on his ear. She leaned back in her seat smirking. “Because I’d like my hat back.”

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[prettybbychim]

u know i really appreciate that when dan heng's ancestry (is that the correct term here lmao) was revealed, the express crew didn't take it as a betrayal like i see that so often its ridiculous

they've all just been so kind about stuff, not pushing him to talk about anything, just letting him know they're there if he does ever want to. (there was smth that stuck with me that welt said. i can't remember the exact phrasing but it was like "he's running from something, and we don't know from what, and sometimes i don't think he really know either." they just...they perceive danger, and dan heng is just a stray they picked up along the side of the road but immediately he is family. his past doesn't matter. they're going to protect their own. THEYRE SO !!)

and when he is forced to reveal these things, they're just like "oh is that really u dan heng? u good my bro? aight lets go save the world or whatever!" and he's the one hesitating to include himself in the team, he's expecting to be distanced, but for them, nothing has changed. and nothing has. he's still dan heng, silent but deadly nerd of a big bro and that's how it should be goddammit

[6mayhem]

anyway i need to hang out with my brother again he is the one person who i am pretty sure knows literally everything about me so he's the only person i trust that i can absolutely not disappoint. nothing i can do could be worse than the sum of everything i've been doing to that poor man (and him to me) the past 19 years

[floral-hex]

real sad boy hours

[canthelpit0]

Intimate

Pairing: Matt x Reader

Wordcount: 2.1k +

In wich: matt has a borderline obsession with cock warming

Warnings: smut, cock warming, p in v, use of y/n, 1st pov, praise kink, name calling (slut), pet names, unprotected, creampie

(A/N: English is not my first language! Also this song has like barely anything to do w the plot, I just feel like that’s the vibe. This is sort of like a blurb. Hope you guys like it <3)

One of the considerably weird things Matt is into is: cock warming.

I clench at the thought trying to focus on my history homework.

I’ve known Matt for practically all my life. We’ve always been close and no conversation between us was ever awkward.

Matt didn’t seem like the type to be into that sort of stuff. But one day, when, we were hanging out and cuddling like we were normally, I felt a hardness at my butt.

When I turned back to look at him he was blushing. Matt had his arms wrapped around my waist, spooning me.

After I asked him what that is, he responded with a question. “Can I..?” He trailed off and I wasn’t catching on to his train of thought.

“What? you want to fuck?” I huff rolling my eyes…not that I would be against it.

“No.” He said defensively squeezing my sides. “Can I just put it in?” Matt asked shyly.

I paused, But eventually complied. With the duvet being over us it shouldn’t be too awkward. He shuffled out of his sweatpants and pulled mine down too.

And before I knew it his finger was inside of me and I was wet.

After a few moments I felt the head of his dick press against me before feeling his entire length slide into me.

I never thought he’d be into that, but even further, I didn’t think that I’d like it too.

I shift feeling the angle change.

“Y/n/n, can you stop moving.” Matt huffs, his words sounding passive aggressive. He puts one of his hands on my hips to prevent as much movement as possible, his other hand still clutching his phone.

I clench again at the tone of his voice, slamming my pen down.

Ever since that day, when this first started off, I started to sit on him more often. Whether it was while we were cuddling or just mindlessly hanging out. We’re not necessarily friends with benefits tho.

I guess he just likes the feeling… but so do I.

It was bad, like we hung out so much Chris and Nick started to make joking remarks about it.

About us hanging out so much that is, not the… whatever we’re doing.

Like it was so bad that practically every time we were alone somewhere private, I was probably sitting on his dick.

It feels so intimate and good, and if we still have time after, he’ll rail me.

But I’m saying that when we’re at home doing homework, I’m sitting on his lap. Or when cuddling or sleepovers. Or even when we go get fast food to eat in the parking lot at night. I’ll climb over the middle console and sit down on it.

I was never a skirt person, but I started to wear skirts more often just for the easier access.

I could go hours just calmly sitting on it.

But sometimes after a while I would get frustrated.

I try to grind into him, Matt still holding me in place as much as he can.

“What? You wanna get yourself off on my dick?” He huffs. His grip on my hip gets harder making me whine, while his other hand still holds his phone.

He’d been scrolling through TikTok and various other social media while I was trying to get all of my homework done.

And it’s been probably over an hour now and I was getting frustrated from all the homework. doing math first was definitely a mistake.

And while on a normal day I would be fine with the intimacy and wouldn’t be trying to get myself off, the homework today was frustrating. And since Matt was already balls deep inside of me, I might as well.

He leans over putting his phone on my desk. With the movement his hand on my hip loosens giving me the opportunity to start to slightly ride him.

“Fuck-“ i sigh. I lean forward on my arms, trying to get as much friction as I can, both on my sweet spot and also my clit.

I hear Matt’s low groan. And suddenly his hands are on my hips again, holding me in place.

“Y/n I swear, i will make you cum over and over again until you’re seeing fucking stars if you don’t fucking stop right now and go back to your homework.”

His tone is authoritative and so hot. Why was he saying that like it would be such a bad thing anyway.

“Matt please.” I whine.

Sometimes Matt would get frustrated and fuck me while I wasn’t even paying him any mind, and sometimes it was the other way around.

He huffs letting go of my hips. Matt leans back as he just watched me and my every move.

I let out a shaky breath once again, leaning forward more to lift myself better.

“Fucking slut, getting yourself off on your best friends dick.” He rolls his eyes in exasperation.

His hands go to my waist, assisting my movements now instead of stopping me.

“If you cum I’m still gonna Make you warm me.” He warns his tone assertive.

Matt holds me in place for a few seconds and scoots the chair back. I sigh leaning forward, using my forearms to prop me up, before starting to ride him again.

His eyes were heavy lidded, his mouth dropped in a silent moan while he watches me.

He somehow seemed way less sensitive than me. But I can literally feel the knot starting to tie In My stomach just waiting to snap.

By this point I was panting and Matt was letting out some heavy breaths too.

“Fuck- Matt, Matt” I whine his name my voice pitching higher as i keep getting closer.

“You close baby?” He breaths out keeping his hands on my hips for stability.

I let out a sharp breath letting my head drop forward as I keep up the angle and speed up in order to reach my climax faster.

“Yeah.” One of my hands go down to my clit to rub it, resulting in my other arm having to hold me up alone.

“Come then.” He demands, his voice sounding cocky. I can hear him breathe heavily and bite his lip to keep quiet.

With his hands tightening on my hips, I feel the knot in my stomach snap.

I let out a loud moan, piercing through the, otherwise, mostly quiet room.

I sit down again my pussy convulsing around his cock.

I sigh, trying to calm down again. Matt’s hands rub my sides, holding my back to his chest and mumbling sweet nothings into my ear.

“You good?” He asks after I mildly catch my breath. I lean more into him, my eyes fluttering closed as I mumble an agreement.

“You gonna go back to your homework now, or…?” He trails off waiting for me to answer.

“No” I breathe out and slightly look over my shoulder to make eye contact with him.

He lets his huge grin take over his features. He picks me up gently, making me wince, to wich he whispers encouraging praises into my ear.

My back makes contact with my bed. I sigh at the feeling of the soft sheets under me. And I watch as Matt hurriedly takes off his shirt.

I was still wearing my mini skirt and a long sleeve shirt, but Matt didn’t look like he was going to take them off. The access was easy, so really, why do the extra work.

Matt rubs my lower stomach, while his other hand holds his dick. He glides it up my folds before slipping it back into me. I whine at the feeling throwing my head back into the mattress.

I’m still sensitive from my previous orgasm and also from the hour of cock warming’s

It wasn’t like he wasn’t sensitive too. I could see him physically hold back from releasing right then and there.

Our eyes stay locked while he starts to rock his hips against me. I can feel him hit that spot in me that makes pure euphoria shoot through my entire body.

Despite not being labeled, it always felt so intimate with Matt.

Maybe it was because most of the time it was literally just cock warming and nothing else. But sometimes, when it did come to the actual intercourse - penetration type of thing, it still felt intimate.

“So good for me baby.” He breaths out. Our eyes stay locked, my mouth dropped in quiet moans.

“Fuck- you like being filled?” He chuckles. His hand stays on my lower abdomen, pressing down slightly to feel himself.

I close my eyes briefly trying to respond, but the way his hips snap into me, and the way he still manages to make this feel sensual, has my head fuzzy.

“Fuck..” Matt breaths out his eyes staying locked on my face. “Too fucked out to answer now?”

All I can do is whine out his name and moan loudly, and he takes pride in that. I know he does. I can see it in his eyes.

“You wanna be fucking full all the time, don’t you baby?” Matt taunts, somehow speeding up even more.

I clench around him my legs going stiff at the constant and heavy stimulation.

Matt notices and readjusts, picking up my legs further so they’re on his shoulders before he picks up pace again.

“Close” I whine out, I can feel the knot in my stomach getting tighter by the second, threatening to snap anytime now.

“Good girl” he hums. Matt’s fingers find their way towards my clit as he starts to vigorously rub it.

“Oh god-“ I moan loudly throwing my head back, my eyes shutting tightly as I try not to get overwhelmed, even tho i already am.

“Eyes on me.” Matt speaks lowly also panting. His movements pick up pace getting more rough and messy, indicating that he’s close too.

My eyes snap open, immediately meeting his. And as soon as they do, I feel my body convulse, my orgasm washing over me like a wave. But despite that, I try to keep my eyes on Matt as best as I can.

“So pretty.” He breathes out harshly and before either of us know it, he gives me one last thrust and fills me up.

I pant, trying to catch my breath. I feel a thin layer of sweat coat my skin, but despite that, I love this feeling.

This post orgasmic state was sending me into almost as much euphoria as the sex itself.

I watch through lazy, heavy-lidded eyes as Matt sits up straighter, moving my legs from off of his shoulders.

“You wanna clean up or sleep like this sweetheart?” He asks tilting his head. Matt was trying to contain a goofy smile.

“Just..” I trail off and let out a breath. Damn I didn’t realize just how out of breath I am.

“Just lay down.” I breathe out.

He licks his lips his eyes wandering from my face to my body and how it’s still clothed.

“You wanna sleep with clothes, or…” he trails off. Matt’s eyes come to meet mine again with a playful glint.

“Matt, I don’t care” I say exasperated.

“I wanna cuddle?” He says like I said we wouldn’t. I huff a slight laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation at hand.

Matt huffs trying and failing to hold back a smile. He gently and slowly pulls out in order to not hurt me. But I still wince from the over stimulation.

He pulls the skirt back down and than reaches for the zipper. He pulls the skirt off tossing it to the floor carelessly.

He then reaches for my long sleeve shirt. I sit up slightly so he can take that, and my bra also off.

Now being nude under him, he looks satisfied. He hums in approval and wordlessly lays down next to me, before I feel his arms go around my waist.

“You think you can warm me, baby?” He whisper sweetly into my ear. I feel a shiver run down my spine from his tone of voice. My eyes shut I take in his silk like words.

“Corse.” I breathe out pushing my hips back into him to tease him.

Matt chuckles lowly. I feel his length slide through my folds. Still being soaked in our combined juices, it was fairly easy for him to slip back in, not that it didn’t make me moan.

I felt way too sensitive, but like hell would I ever say no to this.

Matt chuckles at the low moan I let out. He has his arm spread out so I can lay on it his other arm around my waist. “You do like being full?” He asks in fake shock.

“You were the one that started this tho?” I question right back not moving at all. Simply keeping my eyes closed and enjoying the closeness and intimacy.

“Touché.”

Masterlist

A /N: sorry for being gone for so long guys. Schools been overwhelming. But yeah, I hope you guys liked this. Requests and asks are open & feedback is always appreciated 💕

‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️

Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolos , @ecliphttlunar , @orangeypepsi , @klaus223492 , @char112244 , @sst7niolo , @slut4chriss , @mattsturniololoverr , @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n , @st7rnioioss , @t1llysblogs , @nonat-111 , @blahbel668 , @rockstarchr1s , @sturnsintrouble , @nayveetbhh , @tillies33ssss , @sturncakez , @strnilo , @somegirlfromasgard , @mattslovelygf , @sturnsmaeve , @sturnstvr , @lucianastrun

[darkbluekies]

In the dungeon

yandere!king oc x fem!reader

Summary: after disrespecting him, you've found yourself in his dungeon. Edmund comes to visit you because he has heard that you haven't eaten in three days

Warnings: self starvation, punishment, toxic relationship,

Word count: 1.1k

He doesn't like it, but what choice does he have? If people found out that he doesn't punish his own wife, what would they think of him? That he's not a well respected leader because he can't even punish his own wife? No, he can't have that. He has to do it. But by doing it, he also feels pain, so it's a punishment for both of you. That's how he explained it.

You had disrespected him, belittled him and his masculinity. And now you're here. Easier said than done. Saying the words to him was easier than doing the time for them.

Your head hangs low as footsteps echo down the spiral stone stairs. You don't look up to see who it is, don't care who it is. Another guard to switch swift.

“Oh, my love …”

You look up. Edmund is standing on the other side of the metallic bars, wearing his clean, colorful clothes made out of the finest satin. He places a plate with a silver cloche on the bench beside him. You pull yourself up from the floor slowly, back sore from resting against the stone wall for eternity and stomach empty. Edmund's ice blue eyes follow your every step. It's not often that they contain any type of emotion, but seeing you like this brings out a deep worry that seems to make his eyes glow.

You drag yourself over to the door, which is nothing more than metallic bars. You hold onto one of the cold metal rods. Edmund places his hand over yours.

“The guards have told me that you haven't eaten in three days”, he says softly, as if you could break if he raised his voice even a decibel louder. “You can't do that, Y/N. You can't worry me like this.”

As if he would have eaten that stale bread and drink that moldy water, you think.

“Can I come up now?” you whisper. “I want to get out of here”, you cry weakly. “Edmund, please …”

Edmund shakes his head carefully.

“No, not yet”, he answers with a heavy sigh. “It's going to be okay, darling”, he reassures you softly, kissing the hand he's holding. “Soon, you'll be back with me, okay? Believe me, I want nothing more than to let you back upstairs and have you in my arms, but they would think I was incompetent in my role.”

He wipes one of your tears apologetically.

“Do you care more about your power than you do me?” you whisper.

He looks taken aback, unable to know what to answer.

“Don't be like that”, he says. “You know I love you more than anything else.”

But not enough, apparently, you think and sniffle.

He looks behind you, around the cell.

“I brought some food from the kitchen”, he says. “I want to see you eat it before I leave.”

He gestures for the guard to unlock the door as he bends down to pick up the plate. You back away from the door, finding your safe spot on the floor by the opposite wall. Edmund walks over, checking the floor before hesitantly sitting down.

“Do you have to sit on the dirty floor?” he mumbles dislikingly.

“I like it”, you reply.

“Alright, alright.”

Despite grimacing and dusting of his satin clothes, he makes himself comfortable on the hard, dirty floor and opens the cloche. The smell of boiled potatoes and marinated meat meets your nose, and the sight is even more exquisite. He takes out a silver fork from his pocket, stabs one of the potatoes and holds it to your lips. You open your mouth, letting him feed you. It tastes better than you remember it to. It has only been a week since you got locked down in the dungeon, but without anything to do, without necessities and comfort, the hours creep by. For all you could care, a month could have gone by. The only form of company you've had have been the rats crawling around on the floor, just big enough to squeeze through the metal bars. They bite.

“Tasty?” Edmund asks.

You nod. Anything that the kitchen prepares is delicious — or at least a thousand times better than the rock hard bread and dusty water.

“Good”, the young king says, pleased, feeding you another fork full of meat. “It makes me feel better to see you eat.”

Eating the food he has brought for you reminds you of how badly you want to vet out of here … and how much your comfort relies on Edmund.

Edmund wipes away a sauce smudge on the corner of your lips and sticks it between his lips to lick it off. You doubt he would do that to anyone else. Ever. He has certain liberties with you which he has with no one else. He can hug you, touch you, smile at you, joke with you. You give him life in a way no one can.

“You should see how restless my hours without you are”, he sighs and rolls his eyes. “I'm a walking bomb without you. I almost feel bad for my secretary.”

“Then let me back up …”, you whisper, a last attempt to try to plead with him. “Please.”

“I can't. Not yet. I've already given you special treatment and advantages no one else has gotten. If I let you back upstairs before an appropriate time my authority will be questioned.”

“I'm sorry, Edmund.”

Your voice is barely audible. His hand stops dead in its track on its way to your mouth. A drop of sauce falls down on the floor. You can see that it hit him right in his heart, shattering it.

“Oh, I know”, he reassures you and feeds you the piece of meat. “I know, darling. I believe you.”

You chew slowly, swallow slowly. The food seems to get stuck in your throat.

“Good girl”, Edmund praises. “You can hold out a little while longer, can't you? Just a few more days?”

You nod in defeat. What other choice do you have now that your pleading didn't work?

Edmund stands up. You follow him panicked, quickly reaching out and grabbing his hand.

“No!” you shriek. “Dont leave me. I don't want to be alone!”

“It's getting late”, Edmund answers. “I thought that I would let you get some rest.”

“No … not alone … please. Please stay. Just a little while longer.”

He thinks for a second. “Okay.”

You breathe out in relief. He sits down with his back against the wall, letting you fall asleep against him, wrapped in his warm, strong arms. Leaving him alone with his thoughts — his conflicting, torturing thoughts.

When you wake up the following morning by the sun shining through the little window pane you're alone, lying on the floor, covered by a colorful cape made out of the finest satin.

[moonjxsung]

Kinktober Day 27: Studio Sex

[kinktober masterlist.]

🔞 warning: smut below! mdni.

pairing: Bang Chan x reader

•

“Try it again, from the top this time.”

Chan lets out a heavy sigh, adjusting the black headphones he wears over his ears, as he listens for the beat. It chimes in the same way it has for the past hour you’ve been here, the downbeat of a drum echoing almost too loudly. The metronome starts up at the same time, clicking repeatedly like the second hands on the clock do. He glances at the time before he begins- this session was supposed to be over nearly 45 minutes ago. And then he sings into the microphone to the catchy tune, repeating the lyrics he knows by heart now, despite only having the sheet music for less than a day.

“Cut,” you say to him, chewing on the cap of your plastic ballpoint pen. “There’s something missing.”

“Well I’m not doing it again,” Chan huffs, cupping his hands around the headphones and removing them. He balances them on the music stand, pivoting around to gather his belongings, before exiting the recording booth once more.

“It sounds incomplete,” you voice. “We need something on the downbeat.”

“Not for the second chorus,” he replies frustratedly. “I told you a million times, that’s only for the first one.”

“But every time you pause, it sounds strange.”

“Then let it sound strange,” Chan finishes. A silence overtakes the room when he finishes speaking, his head hanging in shame you avert his gaze. He parts his lips to say something, before shaking his head, hoping you’ll break the silence first.

“You know,” you say to him quietly. “Of all the people I work with, you’re by far the most stubborn.”

“Yeah?” He scoffs, an irate expression in his tone. “Maybe we just have creative differences, then. I can’t say I’ve ever worked with someone as demanding as you.”

“Then find somebody else,” you reply, standing up from your swivel chair. “I’m done here.”

“Good.”

“Great!” You exclaim, gathering a stack of papers. “Good luck trying to find someone else with this late notice.”

Chan thinks it over momentarily, stopping to glance over his shoulder in your direction. He thinks of the song, and all the verses that remain unfinished, and about how he’ll be tasked with arranging the entirety of it in your absence. Which he could do- if he wasn’t already drowning in choreography lessons and meetings for the remainder of the month.

“Fine,” Chan says finally. “We can try it a different way. He cocks his head in the direction of the studio, gesturing to the door.

“Alright,” Chan voices plainly. “I’ll meet you in there.”

He’s the first to enter the recording booth again, slinging his bag off his shoulder and crossing his arms in front of the music stand that still houses a stack of sheet music. You trail in after him reluctantly, shutting the door behind you and doing your best to avert his gaze, before he begins to speak.

“Tell me what you suggest,” he says, shrugging in the direction of the stand. “And we can try that.”

“You need vocals on the downbeat,” you reply, pulling a ballpoint pen out from behind your ear and making a mark on the paper. “Something to lead into the chorus.”

Chan cocks his head as if in deep thought, and then he nods, thinking over your words briefly.

“I’ll get someone with a deeper voice to add something,” he says finally. “So that at least it’s different from my verse in the first chorus.”

He scribbles something out on the sheet music, making a note to add an alternate set of vocals where you’d suggested. And then he caps the ballpoint pen once more, before turning to you again.

“Anything else you want to suggest?” Chan queries, thumbing over the pen cap. His chest rises and falls with every annoyed breath he takes, trying his best not to make some snarky quip at you for keeping him so long.

“That’s it,” you say simply. “You’re free to go. I’m gonna stay here and get some work done.”

Chan observes as you assume a spot on one of the stools, peeling off your hoodie and slinging it over the music stand. You remain in just a thin white tank top, shuffling through your bag for your laptop, as he stays standing behind you.

“You’re… gonna stay here?” Chan asks, swallowing a lump in his throat. He can’t seem to avert his gaze from your top, his eyes scanning your chest, as you balance in the crook of your elbow.

“Yeah,” you reply, giving him a confused look. “I always stay after hours.”

“I could bring you dinner,” he blurts out suddenly, earning another confused look from you.

“Thanks, but I’m not hungry. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

When he doesn’t reply, you look up to catch him staring at you a little too intently. His expression softens when he pulls up a stool next to you, letting out an exasperated sigh, before speaking.

“Look, I’m sorry,” Chan voices. “I know we have our creative differences. But I don’t mean to come off as such a jerk.”

“Yeah, well, you do. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

Your gaze finally meets his, well aware of how close he’s sitting to you now. His gaze flickers from your eyes, down to your lips, and back up again, swallowing nervously as he looks for the words to say.

“Let me make it up to you,” Chan says in a voice just above a whisper. He doesn’t wait for a response this time, simply leaning in to gauge your reaction. And when you don’t back away from him, leaning in as though he might indulge you in a secret, or some heartfelt apology.

“How, exactly?” You ask, a hint of teasing in your tone. And you’re not sure what exactly you’re expecting- but it’s certainly a surprise when he leans in to press his lips against yours, indulging you in a sweet, yet desperate kiss, before pulling away once more.

“What was that?” You say instinctively, not taking your gaze off his.

“I don’t know, I’m sorry-”

“Do it again,” you interject, and Chan’s lips pull into a smirk when he leans in again to kiss you a second time, this time much rougher than the first. His hands snake down to your waist, pulling you closer to him, and then you pull away breathlessly, as Chan’s brows furrow in confusion.

“What is it?” He asks, trying to steady his ragged breathing.

“I don’t know. It’s just…what if somebody sees us?”

Realistically, you know nobody is typically around the studio after hours like this- except for you, and sometimes Chan. But he stands up anyway, making his way to the studio door and peering out the glass window.

“The door’s locked,” Chan says, nodding in the direction of the door across the room. He reaches out to lock the door to the recording booth, too. And then he turns to look at you again when you make your way over to stand beside him.

Chan doesn’t say anything when you lean back against the glass window, folding your arms behind your back while you wait for him to make another move. And then he presses a hand to the glass above your standing figure, leaning down to graze his lips over yours.

“See?” Chan questions in a voice just above a whisper. “Nobody’s around.”

And then he kisses you, his muscular stature towering over yours as you wrap two arms around him and pull him even closer to you. The thought crosses your mind briefly, that this is the last thing you would’ve expected from the evening, having started off on the wrong foot since his arrival today. But you’re not mad about the way he snakes his arms down to caress the small of your back. And you especially can’t protest when his hands find their way to your thighs, where he hoists you up into his arms with ease, your legs wrapping around his lower back as he buries his face in the crook of your neck.

He ruts against you as his kisses turn rougher, the clear erection he sports beneath his sweatpants grazing your upper thighs with every slight movement. As he kisses you, he nibbles down the convex of your throat, leaving a generous trail of bruises as his heavy breaths swirl against your flesh. His labored breathing implies every desire to take you right here in the studio, and when his fingers trail along the waistband of his gray sweatpants, your heartbeat quickens in anticipation.

“Is this okay?” He asks, tugging his pants down to free his erection. His bulge pitches eagerly against his boxers as he awaits a reply, one hand trailing gently along the waistband of your shorts.

“Yes,” you breathe back, using one hand to skillfully unbutton your shorts and tug them down. He assists you in the process, letting them pool around your ankles, before looping one finger in the waistband of your panties to tug those down, too.

Once undressed, Chan frees his cock from his boxers, and you glance down briefly, your eyes widening at the sight. He’s much bigger than you’d anticipated, a bead of precum formed at his tip, as he wraps one hand around his base to stroke himself. His lips reattach to yours, stifled gasps making their way into your parted lips, as he guides himself against your entrance to position himself.

He doesn’t guide his cock inside just yet- instead, he rubs his moistened flesh along your aching clit in gentle back and forth motions, earning a fervent moan from you, as you wrap your legs tighter around him. He seems to hold his breath when he spreads your legs a little wider for him, and then he lets out a heavy groan when he finally pushes himself into you, slipping in with ease until he’s entirely bottomed out inside of you.

Your legs tremble when you feel the rhythmic pulse of his cock grazing your flesh, his lips pressing against yours desperately to stifle your almost pained gasps. And when your gasps quickly transition to moans, he begins to move finally, the pads of his fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs, as he thrusts into you with passionate movements.

“You like that?” Chan questions, earning an affirmative nod from you, whose lips part in overwhelming pleasure. Your nails dig into his back over his thin white t-shirt, and you can feel his broad back muscles tense beneath his shirt as he works himself in and out of you.

For a moment, all that fills the room are the sounds of his heavy grunts as he fucks you, and the fluid sounds of your tongues swirling against each other, a string of drool connecting to your lips when he pulls away momentarily. His fingers dip into your flesh deeper as he hoists you a little higher into his arms, the erotic sight of his protruding arm veins sending a chill down your spine when you take note of how effortlessly he carries you in his strong grasp.

An ebony strand of hair falls into his face, moistened by the beads of sweat that accumulate along his chiseled features, and you reach up to tuck it out of the way, placing a gentle kiss along his jawline.

“Is it okay if I admit I’ve been picturing you like this for the past hour?” Chan questions through labored breaths, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. His thrusts slow a little as he speaks, and you smile in response, kissing him softly before speaking.

“It’s only okay because I’ve been fantasizing about it, too.”

“Yeah?” Chan questions, wincing slightly when he feels his cock twitch inside of you. “What do you say we give this another try?”

You chuckle softly again, your walls contracting around his cock as he speaks, earning another groan from him.

“Give what a try?”

“Us,” Chan clarifies, nearing your parted lips to graze them gently with his own. “This. Let me take you out to dinner.”

“Why should I say yes?” You tease, and Chan practically interrupts you, a whimper escaping his lips.

“Because I’m about to finish inside of you,” he says, maintaining a serious expression on his face, as his thrusts pick up speed again.

You don’t reply this time, your eyebrows arched up in pleasure as he continues to fuck you, a loud squelching noise filling the studio space around you. It’s a lewd contrast to the repetitive tune that’s filled it for the past hour, and your nails dig into the shirt on his back when he grazes your cervix with every harsh thrust now, a string of cusses escaping his lips.

“Fuck,” he chants, his hands gripping the curves of your ass. “Fuck, I’m gonna fill you so fucking good.”

You try to respond, practically unable to, as his lips find yours between his groans. And then he throws his head back in a blissful state of pleasure, his moans turning to whimpers as he fucks you through his orgasm, his hot load filling you and trickling down onto your upper thighs. The warmth of his cum triggers your own release, as your walls caress his girth, a series of pornographic moans filling the space when he begins to slow his thrusts.

It’s still several minutes before Chan finally pulls out of you again, as you both attempt to catch your breath, covered in a sheen layer of sweat and panting heavily. When he’s effectively pulled out again, he loosens his grasp of you, allowing you to find your balance on the carpeted floor, as you fish around for your clothes.

It’s silent as he dresses himself, pulling on his now stained sweatpants and adjusting the waistband of his cum-stained boxers. And then he chuckles lightly, before speaking again.

“So what do you say?” Chan asks, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.

“About what?”

“About this,” he clarifies again. “Let me take you out to dinner.”

You begin to say something, but then you don’t, simply dressing yourself fully and reaching for your bag again. Chan’s heartbeat quickens in his chest when he comes to the realization that you appear to be exiting the studio, turning around to face him again, a small smile on your face.

“You know,” you say to him, rolling your eyes sarcastically. “If there’s one thing I’m happy you’re stubborn about, it’s this.”

His lips pull into a satisfied smile, fidgeting with the string on his sweatpants, as he ponders a response.

“Get your song done,” you tell him, gesturing to the sheet music on the stand still. “And I’ll see you tomorrow for dinner.”

*

[aliyahwritings]

THE CONTRACTED HEART — Rafe Cameron (01)

MASTERLIST | Basketball Player & Model!Female Reader

Summary: Rafe Cameron, a basketball star, needs a marriage to fix his image, while Model!Reader needs one for citizenship. They may be the perfect solution for each other.

Warnings: smut, descriptions of violence, jealousy, usage of drugs, talks about body image/ed, angst, and lots of bickering. Reader is confident, a people-pleaser, has a traumatic past, and is a sunshine with an attitude. Rafe is a whore, possessive, cocky, and secretive about his past.

Word Count: 4.2k

Aliyah's Notes: this is my first series on here so go easy on me (#adele) pls + some things are not going to be obx canon ... at least some of yall are warned. anyw im so excited for this cause lord knows the amount of time ive wanted to make a fake dating fic!!!!!!! anyw i hope you all will enjoy this i had so much writing the first chapter

The clatter of high heels against the marble floor echoed in perfect sync with the ticking of your watch. Every step was deliberate, poised—just like your life had to be. Perfection, it seemed, was not a choice but a requirement for survival.

You adjusted your sunglasses, your gaze skimming over the glamorous expanse of the fashion agency's lobby. People buzzed around you like bees in a hive, their worlds spinning, fueled by the weight of names, status, and flawless images. You smiled politely at the receptionist, offering a nod, though your mind was miles away.

To the outside world, your life was golden. The covers of magazines, the invitations to high-society events, the million-dollar deals with luxury brands—it was a fantasy that others could only dream of. It was your dream some time ago, too. 

But today, your reality felt like walking on the edge of a tightrope, the safety net fraying below you.

Your phone vibrated in your purse, interrupting your thoughts. You fished it out, your pulse quickening when you saw the text from your lawyer. Three words that sent a chill through your carefully constructed façade.

"We need to talk."

Your heart sank. The issue of your visa had been hanging over your head like a storm cloud for months now, growing darker by the day. You’d known this was coming, but knowing and confronting it were two different beasts.

Fame didn’t shield you from the cold bureaucracy of citizenship laws, and your time was running out. One misstep, one delay, and your golden empire could crumble. In a matter of months, you could be deported, left behind by the very country that had built you up.

With a deep breath, you silenced your phone and slid it back into your purse. This wasn’t something you could dwell on right now, not in public. Your expression remained serene, even though your mind was anything but. You had a shoot in an hour, a charity gala that evening, and at some point, you had to meet with the lawyer to discuss "options"—a word that had started to feel more like a trap than a solution.

As you exited the building, the cool breeze caught your hair, the city unfolding before you like a glittering stage. New York City. You looked out at the streets, the people, the life you fought so hard to build. The car pulled up to the curb, and you climbed inside. On your way to your lawyer.

You stepped into the law office, the familiar scent of polished wood and stale coffee wrapping around you like a tight band.

"Ms. Y/L/N, good afternoon," Nicolas Ramirez, your lawyer, greeted you, standing behind his desk. His expression was composed, but you knew him well enough by now to spot the unease in his eyes.

"Hi," you softly smiled at him. Your heels clicked softly on the floor as you sat down, crossing your legs tightly, as if holding yourself together. "Let’s just get straight to it, okay? How bad is it?"

Nico sighed, adjusting his glasses. "Your visa expires in less than three months."

You felt your stomach twist, your worst fear inching closer to reality. You swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice steady. "And what about the appeals? The extensions?"

"We’ve exhausted every possible option—work visas, artist visas, even humanitarian grounds. Immigration laws are tightening, and without a permanent solution like citizenship or residency, you’ll be forced to leave the country."

"Leave?" Your voice was barely a whisper, but it carried the full weight of the nightmare you’d been living with. 

Leave? Go back there?

The country you had fought so hard to escape. The country where your childhood had been marked by suffocating poverty, where your parents had already planned your marriage before you even turned 15. Where your dreams had been a distant, impossible hope until that one person changed your life forever.

You felt your throat tighten. You couldn’t go back.

Nico’s gaze softened slightly, his voice gentle but firm. "I know what this means for you. I know how difficult—"

"You don’t know," you cut him off, your voice sharper than you intended. "You… You don’t know—I can’t go back there, Nico. I just… I can’t."

He nodded, giving you a moment of silence to compose yourself, but the pressure in your chest only grew. You took a deep breath, trying to keep the panic at bay.

"So what now?" you asked, fighting to keep your voice steady. "Is this it? Am I out of options?"

"Well… There’s one option we haven’t explored yet." his tone was cautious, like he knew what he was about to say would open a new can of worms.

You furrowed your brow. "What?"

"Marriage."

The word hung in the air, thick and heavy. You blinked, unable to comprehend at first. "Marriage?" you repeated, as if saying it aloud would make the absurdity of it clear.

"It’s one of the few legal paths left," he explained, leaning forward slightly. "Marriage to a U.S. citizen could secure your green card and, eventually, permanent residency. It’s a legitimate route—many people in similar situations have done it."

You sat back in your chair, the tension in your body coiling tighter. The thought of marriage, of attaching yourself to someone you barely knew for the sake of staying in the country, made your skin crawl. You had already sacrificed so much for your freedom, for your career. And now this?

"You’re telling me the only way to stay here is to marry someone I don’t even love? Just to avoid being sent back to a country I don’t belong in anymore?"

"Not necessarily," Nicolas said, his tone measured. "It wouldn’t have to be a traditional marriage. Think of it as a business arrangement. It’s a legal partnership—nothing more. And it could save your career, your life here."

You crossed your arms tightly, your mind racing. Marriage. It was a word that had haunted you ever since your parents had tried to force you into it as a teenager. Back then, it was their way of controlling you, of keeping you bound to a life you didn’t want. Now, it felt like the universe was throwing the same chains back at you, just in a different form.

"I’ve compiled a list of potential candidates," Arjun continued, sliding a piece of paper across the desk toward you. "People who might be open to an arrangement like this. Athletes, businesspeople—individuals who might benefit from a similar deal."

You glanced at the paper but didn’t pick it up. The names blurred in front of your eyes. This wasn’t how your life was supposed to go. You’d already lost your family, fought tooth and nail to get out of your country and build something for yourself in the U.S. And now you were at risk of losing everything—again.

"I don’t know if I can do this, Nico," you said quietly, shaking your head. "I’ve already sacrificed so much. My family… I gave up everything to be here. And now you’re telling me I have to give up even more?"

"I’m not telling you that you have to do anything," he replied, his voice calm but firm. "I’m saying this is an option. One that could keep you here, legally. But the decision is yours. I’m just laying out the possibilities."

You swallowed the familiar knot of anxiety tightening in your chest. 

"I can’t go back there," you whispered, more to yourself than to him. "I’ve worked too hard to get here. I can’t lose everything."

He nodded slowly. "Then maybe it’s time to consider unconventional options."

You finally picked up the paper, scanning the names but not really seeing them. Your heart was racing, your mind spinning with a thousand thoughts. Marriage. It felt like a trap, just like it had back then. But maybe—just maybe—it was the only way to keep your future intact.

"I’ll think about it," you said, standing up and smoothing the front of your dress. "But I’m not making any promises."

"Of course," he said, standing as well. "Just let me know. We’re running out of time, but I’ll support whatever decision you make."

You nodded curtly, turning toward the door. As you stepped out into the cool city air, your chest tightened with the weight of everything you stood to lose. The lights of New York City flickered ahead of you, just out of reach, as though the life you’d built here could vanish at any moment.

And for the first time in a long time, you felt truly afraid.

Your phone buzzed, dragging you out of your spiraling thoughts. You fished it out of your purse, heart skipping a beat when you saw the name: Nina. Your agent.

With a shaky exhale, you answered. “Nina, hi.”

“Hey, babe!” Nina’s voice was all cheer, a stark contrast to the storm inside you. “So, I have amazing news! Guess who just got major campaign offers coming in? You! Chanel, Loewe, and oh my God, don’t even get me started on Louis Vuitton. The year starts beautifully for you!”

You should’ve felt ecstatic, but instead, the words passed over you like an echo. All you could think of was the countdown Nico had set in motion: three months. Three months before everything you’d built here would be taken away from you. 

“That’s… amazing, Nina,” you managed, trying to muster some enthusiasm. “Really amazing. Thank you so much.”

“Are you okay? You don’t sound like your sunshine-self.” Nina’s voice softened, concern creeping in. “What’s going on?”

There was a pause. Nina had been there through all your ups and downs, from your rookie days as a model to your rise in the industry. But the immigration issues, the fear of being sent back to a life you couldn’t return to—that was something neither of you could control. 

“Three months?” she repeated, her voice going higher. “Oh my God—what the fuck? I thought… I thought you had more time.”

“So did I.” You swallowed the lump in your throat. “Nina, I don’t know what to do. I’ve called Nico and he tried everything—extensions, appeals—but the laws are tightening, and he said there’s only one real option left.”

There was a brief silence before she asked, “What option?”

You bit your lip. “Marriage. Nico says I could marry someone for a green card.”

“Marriage?” Nina’s voice came out in a shocked squeak. “Like a fake marriage? Babe, are you serious?”

“I don’t know!” you burst out, frustration and fear colliding. “I don’t know what to do! I can’t go back there. I can’t. My parents… My parents already wrote me off as dead, and if I go back, I’m stuck in a place I spent my entire life trying to escape.”

Her voice softened. “I know, honey, I know… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound—God, I can’t imagine how scary this is for you.”

You took a shaky breath, grateful for her understanding. Nina wasn’t just your manager—she was one of the few people who you actually close to. She was a 34 years old American-Filipina woman. You trusted her with your life. 

“Okay,” Nina said, her voice more focused now. “Okay, now listen. We’ll figure this out. I know Nicolas wouldn’t suggest something like this unless it was a real option. Do you trust him?”

You sighed. “Yeah. I do. But the idea of marrying someone just to stay… it feels like another version of what my parents wanted for me. Like I’m back in that same time of my life.”

“I get it. But this isn’t like that. You’re in control this time,” Nina said. “If this is what you need to stay here, it’s not about love or being owned by someone.”

You nodded to yourself, trying to absorb her words. “Well, um, Nico gave me a list of potential candidates—people who might be willing to make an arrangement. You’ll never guess who’s on it, though.”

“Who? Shawn Mendes? Harry Styles? Tom Holland—”

“Rafe Cameron,” you said, cutting her off. “The basketball play—”

“Yeah, I know who that man is, Y/N. His reputation is a total mess right now. It’s not surprising for him to be on that list.”

“Exactly,” you muttered. “It’s a perfect business arrangement for him, too. He needs a way to look respectable again, and I need to stay in the country.”

“So, you’re actually considering this?”

You leaned against a streetlamp, staring at the city around you. “I don’t know. Maybe? It just feels wrong. Like I’m giving up a part of myself.”

“As nicely as this can be said, you are being dramatic here, babe.” Nina sighed softly. “Look, I’m not going to push you either way, okay? But I do think you need to look at it from a different angle. You’re not giving up on yourself. You’re doing what you need to do to stay here, to keep fighting for your career and your future. And Rafe—or whoever you’ll end up marrying—is not your parents. He’s not going to control you or he’ll get slapped.”

You closed your eyes, trying to let her words sink in. She was right—you were in control now. This wasn’t the same as being forced into a marriage you didn’t want. This was about survival. About keeping your life in the U.S. intact.

"Yeah… I guess you’re right," you said softly, feeling some of the tension release from your shoulders. "I just need time to think."

TWO WEEKS LATER.

The soft glow of the late afternoon sun filtered through the curtains, casting warm light across your living room. After two relentless weeks of back-to-back fashion shoots, campaign meetings, and gala appearances, you had finally found a moment of peace. You curled up on the plush sofa, sinking into its embrace as the hum of the city outside became a distant murmur. The oversized, loose pajamas you wore were a far cry from the designer gowns and couture you’d been draped in recently, but they were yours—soft, comforting, and familiar. Your hair was twisted into a lazy bun under a satin bonnet.

You exhaled a sigh of relief, finally feeling the weight of exhaustion slip from your shoulders as you closed your eyes.

Buzz. Buzz.

The sound of your phone vibrating on the coffee table pulled you from the calm. You groaned softly, reaching for it with one hand, expecting to see another notification about a meeting or event. Instead, it was a message from Nicolas.

“Any thoughts on who you're going to marry? We need to move quickly if we want to ensure everything goes through in time.”

The familiar weight of the situation you’d been trying to avoid crept back into your chest. Two weeks had passed since your lawyer had first laid out the reality of your visa situation. In those weeks, you'd thrown yourself into work, hoping the constant flurry of activity would drown out the anxiety. But now, in the quiet of your home, the decision loomed large again.

You typed back, hesitating for a moment before hitting send.

"I haven’t decided yet."

A few seconds later, the reply came through.

"We need to discuss this in person. Can you come to my office today?"

You frowned, your eyes darting around the cozy room, not quite ready to leave your home.

"How about you come here instead?" you typed. "It’s been a long week, and I’d rather talk in private."

There was a pause before the three dots appeared, and then the message followed.

"Sure. I’ll be there in about an hour."

You put your phone down and leaned back against the cushions, staring at the ceiling. This wasn’t a conversation you wanted to have, but it was necessary. Time was running out, and you knew you had to face it—whether you wanted to or not.

An hour passed in a blur, and soon enough, you heard the knock at your door. You padded across the room in your socks, your oversized pajama pants swishing softly as you walked. Opening the door, you found Nicolas standing there, looking as composed as ever in his tailored suit.

“Come in,” you said with a smile, stepping aside to let him in.

Nicolas entered, his eyes scanning the room before they landed on you. "You look... relaxed."

You gave a soft chuckle, gesturing to your pajamas. “Don’t mock the pj’s until you’ve tried them.”

He smiled slightly, but there was a hint of emergency in his expression as he took a seat in the armchair across from you. “I know you’ve had a lot on your plate lately, but we really need to make a decision.”

You nodded, sitting back down on the couch, hugging a pillow to your chest. “I know… I’ve just been avoiding it.”

“And I noticed,” he said, pulling out a folder from his briefcase. “But with the visa expiration approaching, we don’t have much time. We need to find someone—someone who understands the situation and won’t make things harder.”

You bit your lip, holding a smile, glancing at the folder in his hands. “You bought the list?”

He nodded, and handed it over, and you flipped through the names, recognizing some immediately. Athletes, businessmen, even a couple of actors/singers. And then there was Rafe Cameron, his name standing out like a bold headline.

“I’ve looked at these,” you said quietly. “I just… I don’t know who to choose. None of ‘em feel right.”

Nico leaned forward. “It's not about right or wrong. It’s about who can offer the least amount of personal complications and help you secure your residency. Rafe Cameron, for instance—he’s someone who could benefit from this arrangement as much as you. His reputation needs mending, and this could be a mutually beneficial situation.”

You stared at Rafe’s name, the memories of seeing his name in the news about how much of a womanizer he was… Could you really tie yourself to someone like him in a fake marriage?

“Alright, but I need you to help me decide,” you admitted, looking up at him.

He nodded, his expression understanding. “Of course, that’s why I’m here. Let’s break it down together and figure out who makes the most sense, not just legally but for your peace of mind.”

Nicolas opened his briefcase again, pulling out more detailed files on the potential candidates. He laid them out neatly on the coffee table, each name with a stack of information—financial records, personal histories, public perceptions. It was all very businesslike.

You leaned forward, looking at the pages in front of you. Each one represented a major decision, a shift in your life you weren’t entirely ready to accept, but you knew you didn’t have much of a choice.

“Let’s start with the most practical options,” he said, sliding the file on Rafe Cameron toward you. “I know his name has come up before. He’s wealthy, influential, and… well, let’s be honest, he could use a boost to his public image right now. It’s a good match on paper.”

You stared at Rafe’s name again, tapping the edge of the file with your finger. “Yeah, but he’s also a bit of a mess, isn’t he? I mean, the media paints him as this… whore, and his personal life is always talked about. What if that blows back on me?”

Nicolas raised a brow. “That’s something to consider, but you also have to think of the benefits. His public image might not be very clean, but he’s powerful. Marrying him would put you in a stable position, and if it’s a business arrangement, his private affairs don’t have to concern you.”

You exhaled slowly, still feeling uneasy. Rafe Cameron was trouble, and you knew it. But at the same time, trouble might be exactly what could make this work—for both of you.

“What about the others?” you asked, flipping through the files. “There has to be someone who’s… less complicated.”

“Well,” he said, tapping another file. “there’s Owen Turner. He’s a succesful tech entrepeneur, keeps a low profile. No scandals, no messy reputation. He’s reliable, but you’ll have to approach this differently. He’s more private, less likely to want his personal life on display.”

“And boring—plus, he seems like the type of white guy to want a traditional wife. Like he would expect me to cook for him every night… and he has an ugly name.”

“Owen won’t be expecting home-cooked meals, Y/N. He’s a tech guy; he probably lives on energy drinks and instant ramen,” Nico pointed out, trying to steer you back to the serious topic. “But if we position it as a legal arrangement, he could see the value in it.”

You sighed, leaning back on the chair. “Okay, maybe Owen is the safer options. But can you imagine our wedding announcement? ‘Succesful Tech Entrepeneur Married Famous Model: They Share a Love for Cats and Instant Noodle.’”

Nico shook his head, trying not to smile. “Focus, please. This is a serious matter.”

“Right, right, sorry…” you said, wavering your hand dismissively. “But, what do you think about Rafe?”

“Rafe Cameron is the most straightforward option,” he said, his tone now more measured. “He’s already in the public eye, which means there won’t be as much of a shock if you’re suddenly married. Plus, his need for good press aligns with your need for stability.”

“And personally?”

He smiled softly, a rare gesture from him. “Personally, I think you should go with the person you think you can manage.”

You nodded, appreciating his honesty. Staring at the stack of papers in front of you, Rafe Cameron’s name glaring up at you from the top of the list. Every name on the list had its pros and cons, but something about Rafe’s file felt different. Maybe it was the intensity of his media coverage, the scandals, or the way he dominated the headlines for all the wrong reasons. But as much as you hesitated, his name kept pulling you back.

“I know his reputation isn't spotless,” Nico said, sensing your hesitation, “but in this situation, a clean reputation isn’t the priority. You need someone powerful, someone with enough influence to make this arrangement stick without getting tangled up in emotional complications.”

You nodded, again.”But I don’t know if I can handle all the baggage that comes with Rafe Cameron. His public image is a trainwreck. Wouldn’t that only complicate things more?”

Nico leaned back in his chair, looking thoughtful. “Possibly. But think of it this way: his personal life is already so chaotic that a stable, respectable marriage might be exactly what he needs to repair his image. And that’s where you come in. You’d be helping each other.”

Your eyes dropped back down to his file. "Do you think he'd even agree to something like this?"

Nico chuckled softly. “If there’s one thing I know about men like Rafe Cameron, it’s that they understand deals. His reputation is hanging by a thread, and a marriage to someone like you—someone with a pristine public image—could be the ticket to restoring his credibility. It’s a win-win, really.”

You considered Nico’s words. He was right. Rafe had everything to gain from a marriage of convenience, just like you. And while his scandals were messy, they didn’t define him entirely. He was still an elite athlete, one of the best in the game, and with the right PR strategy, you could both come out looking better.

But the thought of marrying someone like him—a notorious playboy with a history of messy breakups—made your stomach churn. 

“You know,” Nico continued, “if this were just about your visa, we’d be having a different conversation. But this is about your entire future. Your career, your freedom to stay here, everything you’ve built. I’m not saying it’s an easy choice, but it’s one worth considering.”

You sighed, the weight of the decision pressing down on you. "What happens if it falls apart? What if things with Rafe go wrong?"

"That’s why we’ll draft a contract," Nico reassured you. "This won’t be a traditional marriage, Y/N. You’ll both have clear boundaries, and legally, we’ll protect your interests. If things go south, you’ll be covered."

You stared at the file a little longer, then closed your eyes.Rafe Cameron. He was cocky, possessive, and reckless—everything you usually avoided. But maybe that was the key. You wouldn’t have to worry about him trying to control you or make this anything more than a business transaction.

It would be messy. It would be complicated. But it would also keep you here, in the country you’d fought so hard to call home. And maybe, just maybe, it would be the solution you both needed.

“Okay,” you said softly, your decision finally settling. “I’ll do it.”

Nico’s eyebrows shot up, a little surprised at how quickly you’d made up your mind. “You’re sure?”

“No,” you admitted with a weak smile. “But I think this is the best option. I’ll marry Rafe Cameron.”

Nico nodded, closing the folder with a satisfied smile. “Good. I’ll set up a meeting with him. We’ll get the ball rolling.”

Oh God, you were going to marry Rafe Cameron…

chapter two

[luvsupa]

I WANT TO HEAR YOU SCREAMMM!

summary: whatever you do, do not fuck mr.ghostface!

tags: ghostface!geto x fem!reader, naoya mention .., set in the 90s and inspired by fear street!!, smut, ōral sex (m and f receiving), knife play, slightly mask kink, humiliation kink, exhibitionism kinda, death, mentions of blood, etc, mdni

w.c: around 3.6k (sorry I got carried away …)

a/n: THANK U GUYS FOR 1.6K WAAAATTTT WE GOIN UPPPPP YEASSS

+ geto in tbis fic looks just like this fanart 🙂‍↕️

kinktober masterlist

you lean against the register, bored out of your mind as you scribble distorted faces on your company’s notepad. working a night shift sucks—especially a closing shift. you huff as the intercom blasts the latest rock song, a weak attempt to liven up the dead atmosphere. lately, the cd shop has been busy with customers buying vinyls, posters, and movies. ugh, it was so annoying having to scan the newest movie, scream. the line was always so long it nearly wrapped around the whole building!

you glance out the glass front doors, scanning the empty, dark streets, genuinely debating whether you should close two hours early since no one is coming. your attention shifts as you hear the bell ring, indicating a customer entering.

ugh.

your smile drops when you see naoya, your annoying coworker who flirts with you in the weirdest ways. he’s always condescending and putting you down until you found out from another coworker that he’s actually attracted to you. he walks toward you, standing in front of the register as if he were a customer. you honestly forgot he was still here after he said he would take a ‘five-minute’ break an hour ago.

“you don’t get paid to draw, now do you?” he says, leaning over to grab the notebook. you let him take it, but he rips the page clean, crumpling it in his fist. gosh, you hated when he acted like the manager. “anyways, I’m clocking out! must suck having to stay for another… two hours!” he laughs, glancing at the clock above. he giggles as he walks behind the counter into the bright red font ‘employees only’ room, leaving you scoffing in annoyance. you waste time fixing the decorations on the register as every minute drags by.

ring!

your heart stops when you hear the company phone ringing. who the hell calls at this hour? you pick up the corded telephone and force yourself into a professional tone.

“thank you for calling cursed tracks, how may I help you?” you say, lazily watching over the store. there’s a long pause, and your brows furrow. is this a prank call?

“hello—”

“what’s your favorite scary movie?”

you burst out laughing, doubling over at the blatant prank call. there’s no way. it’s beyond cringey that you would be a victim of ghostface’s evil scheme. tears roll down your cheeks as you hang up the phone, your laughter still ringing in your ears. but then, you stumble backward, colliding with something solid—no, someone. your laughter halts as you slowly turn your head, gulping hard as your eyes drop in horror. screaming in genuine fear, you see him: ghostface, knife in hand, just like in the movies.

you stumble back into the counter, panic rising as you cry out, cornered in the booth. he drops his hand and bursts into laughter, and your brows furrow in confusion. he lifts his hand to remove the haunting mask, and embarrassment floods over you.

seriously.

“naoya, that wasn’t funny,” you snap, shoving him away as he continues to laugh uncontrollably. “you— you should’ve seen your face! I wish I recorded this— we would’ve been stars!” he wheezes, still amused as you find none of this funny. he continues to mimic your reaction, and you bite your lip to keep from lunging at him.

“stop wearing display costumes, asshole! you’re gonna get us in trouble,” you scold, turning away as he playfully bonks your head with the fake plastic knife. irritation washes over you.

“jeez, naoya— just leave already, you’re ruining my alone time,” you say coldly, clearly annoyed by his antics. you hear his footsteps retreating to the employee room, allowing you to calm down from his stupid joke.

you lean against the counter once again, watching over the store in boredom, your eyes feeling heavy as each minute passes. maybe you should really quit- you’re not getting paid enough for this. you roll your eyes at the ruckus coming from the room behind you—nayoa’s making way too much noise.

bastard, you mentally insult him.

you close your eyes to rest them, feeling exhausted from the long shift when you suddenly sense someone standing behind you. your eyes shoot open, and your heart drops again as you turn around to see nayoa in that damn ghostface costume.

“very fuckin’ funny, naoya,” you scoff, trying to ignore him, but he doesn’t move. he’s breathing heavily under the mask, staying still as if waiting for your reaction. you turn to yell at him, but the words choke in your throat. your eyes drop to the knife he’s gripping in his hand, and it looks too real—dripping with what looks like blood. your breathing quickens as you glance at the fake plastic knife that naoya left on the counter, your eyes twitching in disbelief.

“o-okay, naoya, you’re scaring me.”

“darling, who’s naoya?” the male voice says, distorted through the mask’s speaker. tears rush to your eyes as you see blood seeping from under the employee room door.

you step back, your back hitting the counter, trapping you just like before when nayoa scared you. the male steps closer, tears spilling down your cheeks as fear overwhelms you; you can’t call out for naoya—he’s fucking dead!

without thinking, you attempt to jump over the counter, but before you can touch the ground, you feel yourself being yanked back by strong hands. you squeal at how fast he moves, pinning you against the wall with one hand holding you in place and the other gripping the sharp, bloody knife to your throat. your eyes widen, the blade too close to your artery. if you looked up at the popcorn ceiling. you’d see the end of it—your life flashing before your eyes.

“oh pretty, you were just acting like a big girl,” geto coos, his voice soft yet terrifying. the grip on the knife loosens slightly as he pulls back his head, and your eyes remain shut, fear washing over you.

“y’r sooo fuckin’ nasty, huh,” geto comments, and your brows furrow as you stare at the creepy face behind the mask. he chuckles, and you follow his gaze down—oh fuck. you wish your body wasn’t reacting on its own! you’re grinding your hips against his knee placed between your thighs, your rhythm so subtle you didn’t even realize.

“let’s test how nasty you really get.”

those were the last words that echoed in your head as he had you behind the counter, knees grinding against the freezing floor, your jaw aching from the relentless thrusts. his thick cock slammed into your mouth with brutal force—so deep that you swore you could feel him in your chest, the bulge in your throat visible as he used you mercilessly. both of his hands gripped your head with brutal force, his long fingers tangling in your curly locks as he fucked your face like a filthy fucktoy. his groans, muffled by the infamous ghostface mask, sent shivers down your spine, the hollow black eyes staring soullessly at you as he threw his head back in ecstasy. the obscene sounds of wet gags and sloppy suction filled the store, the mess overwhelming—drool and spit spilled uncontrollably from your mouth, coating his shaft and dripping down your chin, soaking into the front of your work shirt.

your nose repeatedly slammed against his crotch, the rough patch of his pubes tickling against your skin, making you tear up even more. the strain in your jaw was unbearable, his fat cock stretching you wide, each thrust so forceful you thought your jaw might snap. but you kept your grip on his jeans, fingers digging into the fabric as your throat was pounded raw. his heavy black boot was wedged between your legs, you couldn’t stop grinding on him. each roll of your hips against his boot sent delicious friction through your core, and you were drenched, your panties soaked through your pants, sticking to your swollen folds. the slick sounds of your cunt rubbing against his boot mixed with the wet slurps coming from your mouth, each grind making you moan pathetically around his cock.

geto’s head dropped down to watch, eyes behind the hollow mask taking in the sight of you—a filthy, drooling mess on your knees with his cock buried so deep down your throat that a bulge swelled in your neck. drool poured from your lips in thick strings, and your hips moved desperately against his foot, grinding on him like you couldn’t help yourself. but he didn’t let you keep going. his movements stopped abruptly, and with a harsh yank, he pulled your head back off his cock, making you gag and cough, gasping for air. the sound of your desperate choking echoed through the store as strings of spit connected your swollen lips to his twitching tip, your eyes wide with lust and tears. the sight of you, completely ruined in your leggings, face soaked and pussy grinding against his boot, only made him harder, his cock throbbing in front of your face.

“you jus’ can’t help it, can you?” geto growls, his voice thick with cruel amusement as he grinds his boot harder into your cunt, your soaked panties doing nothing to dull the friction. the pressure sends jolts of filthy pleasure up your spine, making you cry out pathetically, your body writhing against him. his grin stretches behind the ghostface mask, those empty black eyes staring down at you, drinking in your desperation.

in a single, brutal motion, he rips you off the ground and slams you onto the counter, CDs clattering to the floor around you. your legs fly up, bent and spread wide, exposing you to him completely. his eyes rake over your body like you’re nothing more than prey. with a harsh tug, he rips your pants off, tossing them carelessly behind him. the moment his gaze lands on the soaked crotch of your panties, your clit twitches in response, your cunt clenching involuntarily, knowing what’s about to come. the fabric is practically see through now, drenched in fear and filthy arousal, and it only makes his smirk widen behind the mask.

your eyes are glossy, chest heaving as your legs stay bent up, thighs trembling with anticipation. you should be terrified, and you are—but the heat pulsing through your core is undeniable. the sight of him towering over you with that eerie mask, black eyes hollow and unfeeling, does something sick to you.

without warning, geto pulls a another knife from behind him, the blade gleaming dangerously in the store light. you gulp hard, a whimper escaping your lips as he waves it inches from your face, the cold steel sending a wave of fear coursing through you, but it only makes your cunt throb harder.

“don’t move,” he whispers darkly, dragging the tip of the knife down your neck, making your skin break out in goosebumps. the blade hovers over your chest, your nipples hardening as he traces your curves. he presses just enough to remind you of its sharpness, enough to let you know he could cut deep at any second. the threat lingers in the air, the thrill of it making your thighs tremble.

he doesn’t hesitate when he reaches your shirt. with a quick flick of his wrist, you hear the rippppp of fabric as the blade slices your work button-up clean open, exposing your bare chest. the sharpness of the knife cutting through the material like paper sends a shiver of fear and arousal down your spine.

“cheap shit,” he sneers, but the way your nipples perk in the cool air has his cock straining even harder. his hand moves lower, the tip of the blade dragging dangerously over your trembling stomach, inching closer and closer to your cunt.

you gasp when he finally reaches your panties, the cold metal resting against the swollen lips of your pussy. “y’know. . .” he trails off, voice thick with lust as he presses the flat of the blade against your clothed clit, the cold, sharp edge making you jerk involuntarily. “never had someone so . . .desperate in their final moments.”

it’s humiliating how your clit twitches at the contact, how your cunt clenches around nothing, soaked and aching for him. he notices, of course, the way your hips twitch toward the blade, and the wetness that’s already beginning to drip down your thighs.

“fuckin’ embarrassing,” he mutters, but his voice is laced with something darker—he’s getting off on this, on how soaked you are for him. the knife slides lower, grazing your inner thigh, just shy of cutting you, the scrape of the blade against your skin sending shivers through your body. you can feel your pulse in your clit, each drag of the cold steel only making you wetter, more desperate.

“this turning you on, baby?” he asks, his voice low and mocking. you can’t even respond, too lost in the filthy heat coursing through you.

with a quick flick of his wrist, the knife slices through your panties, the sharp blade cold against your slick folds. you gasp, your pussy finally exposed, clit twitching as the cool air hits your drenched core. the knife grazes your swollen lips, barely a whisper of pressure, but it’s enough to make you moan, your cunt clenching desperately.

he hums in approval, staring down at your glistening pussy, the wetness dripping from your folds, thighs trembling as you lie there helplessly. geto’s exposed cock twitches painfully at the sight, his eyes narrowing behind the mask as he drinks in how ruined you already are.

“fuckkk,” he mumbles, voice thick with lust. he lets the knife trail up, dragging it over your clit just enough to make you gasp, the cold edge sending waves of agonizing pleasure through you.

you’re fighting the urge to touch yourself, legs trembling with need, but he’s dragging it out, watching you suffer, savoring every filthy, desperate moan that spills from your lips. your cunt clenches again, dripping, aching for more, but all he does is graze the blade over your sensitive skin, keeping you on the edge, waiting for him to finally take what’s his.

without a second thought, geto rips off the ghostface mask, revealing his face in all its sinful glory. his long black hair cascades down his back, a few loose strands framing his face just right, giving him that perfect, messy look. your heart nearly stops at the sight—those silver piercings in his lower lip glint under the lights of the CD store. fuck. your breath catches as you realize just how devastatingly hot he is, a man who could ruin you in every sense of the word.

“f-fuck, mr. ghostface. . .you’re so fucking hot,” you moan, your cunt clenching involuntarily at the sight of him. he smirks, catching your reaction instantly, bringing the blade right back to your dripping cunt, but now it’s different—now you can see every twitch of that gorgeous smirk, every glint in his wicked eyes. nothing is processing in your mind at this point. you’re too far gone, body shaking as he holds all the power over you. he could do anything right now, and you’d let him.

geto leans in, inhaling deeply, letting your scent drive him mad before diving headfirst between your thighs. his lips find your cunt with no warning, devouring you like a fucking beast. his tongue plunges into your soaked hole with reckless abandon, the wet, obscene sounds echoing through the empty store. your back arches violently against the counter, the cold glass windows around the store only barrier between you and the outside world. if anyone walked by and caught sight of this—fuck, you’d be fired in an instant. but the thrill of that thought only makes the heat in your core burn hotter.

your body reacts before your mind can catch up, hands flying to tangle in his thick, soft hair, yanking him closer. he groans deep, the sound vibrating through your clit as you pull his head in tighter. mr. ghostface loves his hair being pulled—check! you think, feeling the way his body reacts to your grip, only making him devour you more ruthlessly.

his nose nudges your clit, adding to the torment as his tongue relentlessly works your insides, the metal ball of his tongue piercing sending shockwaves of pleasure through you. it’s so nasty, so fucking loud as he slurps up your juices, the slick sound echoing around the store. you can’t believe your body is making this much of a mess, slick dripping down your thighs, pooling on the counter beneath you. you’re losing it, completely undone by how he’s devouring you.

geto’s tongue is merciless, and just when you think it can’t get any better, he brings two thick fingers to your entrance, thrusting them in deep. the stretch makes your head spin, his digits spreading you open wide as his tongue continues to work your cunt. he groans low in his throat, the vibrations sending another wave of ecstasy through your core. the sensation of his tongue, his piercing, and his fingers all working together has you seeing stars, your walls clenching around him uncontrollably.

“fuck, look at you,” he growls against your cunt, his voice muffled but still dripping with arrogance as his fingers curl inside you, finding your sweet spot instantly. your eyes roll back, legs shaking uncontrollably as the tension in your belly coils tighter. your grip on his head tightens, forcing him further into you, needing more, more of that perfect, filthy mouth. his lips close around your swollen clit, biting at it just enough to drive you insane, while his fingers pound into you relentlessly.

you catch a glimpse of his face between your thighs, his half-lidded eyes fluttering shut as a moan slips past his pierced lips, his tongue flicking out to lick your slick from the corner of his mouth like he can’t get enough. he’s completely lost in you, ruthlessly making out with your cunt, leaving you trembling and gasping for air. the sight alone nearly pushes you over the edge, your body trembling violently as you feel your orgasm building, heat burning in your stomach, your cunt clenching around his thick fingers.

“listen to how talkative she is,” geto sneers, a wicked smirk stretching across his face. without hesitation, his free hand grabs the store’s telephone, fingers working quickly to connect it to the intercom. before you can process what he’s doing, he presses the microphone right up against your drenched, sloppy cunt.

your eyes go wide in horror as the filthy, wet sloshing of your pussy echoes through the entire store. the slick, obscene sounds of your cunt squelching and dripping around his thick fingers fill the air, amplified by the speakers. every thrust makes it squirt, the embarrassing symphony of your slick coating his fingers making your stomach drop with humiliation. you’re completely exposed, the sound of your body’s desperate reactions bouncing off the store walls, reminding you just how nasty this is.

the wet slaps, the relentless gushing of your cunt, and the squelching noises leave you utterly mortified. It’s so loud, so filthy that if anyone were to walk by, they’d hear everything—and know exactly what a mess you’re making for him. every slick, nasty sound screams your shame, broadcasting to the entire store that you’re getting off to a literal serial killer!

“look at you,” geto chuckles darkly, his voice dripping with arrogance. “so fucking nasty for me. all this for a killer? huh? you like knowing what a filthy slut you are?”

geto throws the telephone, letting it dangle by the cord, before roughly flipping you onto your stomach. your feet barely touch the ground as your chest presses into the counter- bent over, giving you a full view of the empty store. his eyes darken as he takes in your position, biting his lip at the sight of your ass wiggling back, grinding against his hard cock. you can’t help but plead, your voice breathy and desperate.

“please, mr. ghostface, you’ve been sucha tease,” you whine, turning your head to watch him as he toys with his lip piercing, eyes fixed on you like he’s weighing his options. before you can beg again, he makes his choice—sliding his fat, mushroom tip past your dripping entrance. the stretch of his tip slightly burning but- oh it felt so good. your body jerks forward with the slow, agonizing thrust, his thick crownhead teasing innn and outttt of your needy, aching walls. you cry out, wanting—no, needing—more.

desperation overtakes you, and you try to fuck yourself back onto him, but his hand comes down hard, swatting your ass. the sharp sting only makes your pussy clench harder, and you hear him tut in disbelief at how filthy you’ve become for him. “unbelievable how you’re this horny,” he sneers, gripping your hips tighter as if to hold you still.

“if you’re a virgin, just say—ahh,” you taunt- gasping loudly when his fingers wrap around the back of your neck, his grip firm as he pulls you flush against his broad chest. his thick tip remains lodged inside your cunt, teasing you with how little he’s giving, yet how desperately you crave more.

he leans in close, his breath hot on your ear. “i’d love to stay and prove your point,” he purrs, eyes flicking to the front of the store, where the bright blue and red lights of approaching police cars flash in the distance. your mind is too foggy, too consumed with lust to understand what he’s hinting at. “but baby, your little coworker—the one you never bat your pretty lashes at,” he continues, his tone darkening as his grip tightens around your neck, turning your head toward the ‘employee’s only’ door.

that’s when you see it—the large, dark puddle of blood seeping from under the door, your coworker’s lifeless body hidden from view.

“i-i don’t care, i wan’ you,” you plead, tears stinging your eyes as your walls grip his girthy tip, trying to coax more from him. geto chuckles darkly, the sound sending shivers down your spine. he turns your head back toward the front of the store, where the police cars are getting closer. his hand slips away from your neck, leaving you trembling as he cruelly pulls his cock from your addicting cunt, leaving you empty and desperate as he swiftly tucked it back in his pants.

tears spill from your eyes as you feel him slipping away, denying you what you need. “he’s the one that ruined our fun,” geto says, his voice soft but menacing. “and sadly…” his words trail off, and you freeze as you feel the cold tip of a sharp blade pressing against your neck. you gulp hard, heart pounding as the reality of the situation sets in.

“’m really sorry, baby, but i can’t have you snitching to the police, can i?” he whispers, and with a swift motion, the blade slices cleanly across your throat. blood trickles down in a warm line, your breath catching in your chest as your body collapses to the floor. the cold tiles beneath you feel distant as your vision blurs, the last thing you see is geto standing above you, pouting as he watches the life drain from your body.

[landoughnut]

Dream Girl

♡ masterlist - request!

♡ pairing - lando norris x fem!reader

♡ summary - when being interviewed, the conversation gets on the topic of you, lando's long term obsession crush, never in a million years did he think you would actually notice him

♡ warnings - obsessed/simp lando

♡ w/c & a/n - 0.85k | I hope you all are doing good! as usual send any requests xoxo

"Good afternoon, Lando! We're happy to have you here with us today," the interviewer smiles, sat across from the driver.

"Great to be here," he nods, putting his hands on his lap and leaning back into the chair, "Wow, nice chairs you've got here."

The interviewer laughs, "Glad you approve of them. So, let's get started with the questions, shall we?" Lando nods and the lady clears her throat, "First off, when racing at the high speeds you do, what are some things you're thinking about? Or maybe I should say, a someone?"

Let's rewind. If there was one thing, besides being a Formula 1 driver, that everyone knew Lando Norris for, it was having the world's most massive crush on you. In fact, pretty much everyone was aware of this; except for you.

You wouldn't call yourself oblivious, per se. You just weren't really one to be online, so you never saw all the drama surrounding Lando's infatuation with you.

He has been enamored with you for about three years now, and he made it everyone's problem. From liking instagram updates of you, to commenting on pictures and videos of you, to even reposting edits of you. His friends must have sat through hours and hours of hearing him just speak about your beauty and personality.

His friends teased him about it quite often, though he was never really embarrassed over it. He truly just found everything about you beautiful, you were his dream girl, everything he'd ever want in a woman.

"Well, uh, I think about, you know, winning. Also what I'm going to eat after, and uh.. my girl," he nods with a slight grin.

The interviewer raises her eyebrows, "I wasn't informed you finally got a girlfriend," she says, surprised.

He laughs and shakes his head, "No, no. She's not my girlfriend... yet. Although I'm not even sure if she knows that I exist, but I'm working on it."

"Ah, I should have known," the lady smiles at his flustered state, "I wish you luck with that. Now I believe we should move onto the more important questions, before I get in trouble," she taps on her clipboard.

The rest of the interview seemed like forever for Lando, now that he was thinking about you again, as he usually is.

You're in your bed, watching one of your favorite shows, How I Met Your Mother, when your phone starts to blow up with your friends messaging you and sending you a link to a YouTube video of some F1 interview.

You open the video is none other than the very cute, Lando Norris. Of course you knew who he was, you kept up with Formula 1 on your free time and enjoyed watching the races.

As the video is playing through, you open the comments and your eye go wide at everyone saying your name and commenting on how hot of a couple you two would make. You furrow your eyebrows at some comments talking about how devoted to you he must be for liking you for several years without a single interaction.

You continue to watch the video and your cheeks turn pink as he talks about, well you. You couldn't believe that he liked you like that, surely you were well-known, and you weren't too bad looking, but one of the best current racers in the world crushing on you?

After the video ended you messaged your best friend back, asking what you should do. She, of course, told you to message him on instagram.

You thought over the idea for a bit, before nervously clicking on his account and following him back before beginning to type.

Lando was hanging out with Oscar around the garage when he hears his phone ping with a notification. He glances at it and turns his phone off again before doing a double check to make sure he saw it right. You had followed him.

"OSCAR," he yells and turns to his friend, holding the phone in his face, "SHE FOLLOWED ME, LOOK," he waves the phone.

Oscars jaw drops, never did he see this day coming, "Wow! Mate, thats fantastic, and look! It seems like she just sent you a message!"

"What? I might faint, Oscar," the boys hands shake with excitement and nerves as he clicks on your message. "Hi! I saw your interview, and I must say, I'm truly flattered," Lando reads as his face turns dark pink, he didn't think you'd see it, guess he was wrong.

Oscar starts laughing, "Text her back!"

"I don't know what to say, I've never spoken to her in my life," he panics.

"Mate, she saw you call her your girl, it's a bit too late to be nervous," Oscar smiles, patting his friend's pack. Lando chews his lip and writes back, heart pounding.

After a few messages were exchanged and an anticipated Oscar waiting for an update clears his throat, Lando looks up from the phone with the brightest smile Oscar has ever seen on him, "Guess who scored himself a date with his future wife this Saturday?"

[swordsandholly]

Cherry Bomb - tattoo parlor anothology

MDNI | poly 141 x fem fat reader | masterlist | cw: oral (reader receiving)

Part Ten: Permission

A/N: We're SO back!

You’ve never been so happy to work an extra day.

Johnny gets the shop to himself on Sundays for walk-ins. Usually, he mans the shop by himself but you need to record the cash income from the convention in the ledger. Sure, you could do that during your usual hours the upcoming Wednesday and catch up on sleep, but you have too much nervous energy coursing through you. If you were home you would just be stewing on your couch the hole day and probably spiral into a panic attack. At least here, with a task and Johnny yapping in your ear, you don’t have to think about the fact that you made out with your boss too much.

Fuck. You really did that. Fuck, fuck, fuck!

You woke up in a cold sweat, fingers brushing over your lips as you tried to decipher if it was real or dreamed. If you really kissed John, if he really held a hand on your lower back as he walked you home, if he really gave you a second, light peck before saying goodnight. The itch of his beard lingers, as well as the warmth where his hands cupped your face. It felt so good. So fucking good.

Then the context settles in. The fact that you kissed your boss makes you want to throw up - not for any dislike of it, just the fact that your job is now in limbo. Hanging in the balance until you can talk to him on Wednesday. At least you can take the next couple days to collect your thoughts - come up with a good apology that will hopefully let you keep your job and some semblance of dignity. Somehow make sense of the fact that you’ve kissed John and Kyle and surely when they find out they’ll think you’re a floosy. Loose and easy and pathetic and gross. You couldn’t quite meet your own eye in the mirror as you tried to get ready for the day.

The current, formerly “Future You” is not very happy with the now Past You. Frankly, you’d like to deck her for leaving you in this state of a permanent heart attack.

“Och, I’m about tae melt.” Johnny mutters, appearing from his room and stretching. His shirt rides up, exposing a thick happy trail that does not help you in your current spiral.

You just hum, gluing your eyes to the physical spreadsheet in front of you as you go through the sales from the convention. Numbers will clear your head. Yeah, nothing less sexy or more distracting than trying to do math with pen, paper and a TI-84 calculator.

“We should go get some ice cream.” Johnny leans over behind you, causing you to jump. Large hands settle on your shoulders as he rests his chin on the top of your head. At least Johnny is always touchy, you don’t have to read into it. You don’t think you could handle reading into it right now.

“Uh, yeah, okay.” You murmur, letting him lead you out of the office and flipping the out for lunch sign. You’ve been so lost in your head the entire day that you can’t fully pull yourself out of it - the same spiral of fears and self-degradation swirling around in your mind. A Cat 5 tornado of your own making. So stupid.

Johnny intertwines your fingers as you make your way down the street. Your hands swing lightly as you walk. Even with the heat, it doesn’t feel like too much. You’re not sure what it is - of you’re just comfortable or if Johnny just has something about him that makes touch feel perfectly natural - but it’s never overwhelming. Even when he’s hanging off you like a leech, it’s just Johnny. He doesn’t make you talk, doesn’t pry into why you’re so spaced out. He probably just thinks you’re tired. You are tired. So tired.

You don’t realize Johnny is saying something until he gently elbows your side. “Huh?”

“What d’ye want?” Johnny asks with a concerned furrow in his brow.

“Oh, uh, I can get my own-“

”My treat.” He shakes his head, batting away the hand pulling your wallet out of your back pocket. You have no choice but to give in to him - there isn’t any point in arguing with Johnny.

“Thanks for suggesting this.” You murmur, as you sit at one of the wooden, outdoor tables in front of the shop a couple blocks down from the tattoo parlor. The tables are covered in the shade of trees and an awning, luckily, keeping the sun from beating down on you. It doesn’t stop your ice cream from melting nearly faster than you can eat it, but you don’t have the heart to complain after Johnny took you out and bought it for you.

“Aye. Seemed like ye needed some cheerin’ up. Never seen ye so sullen.” Johnny comments, casually stuffing a spoonful of ice cream in his mouth. His eyes are sympathetic, though.

“Oh.” You thought you’d been doing alright at hiding it - came into the shop with a jokes and everything this morning. Sometimes it’s easy to forget how much Johnny actually notices between all his volume and energy.

“Gonnae tell me about it?”

“No.”

“Might help.”

You shake your head. “I- I’m- I can’t.”

“Okay.” He smiles gently, giving you a once over. His eyes are so sharp. The others do it too - take your body language in piece by piece. It doesn’t burn like when Johnny does it, though. His gaze is consuming, even when soft.

He seems to let you off the hook, though. It’s impossible to know how much he does or doesn’t know - how much any of them know. It puts you on edge, the inability to ask. After all, to ask is to admit. If you admit to it, you might lose it all. Fuck why did you kiss John? Kyle you can explain away - just a fun little bet. You’re close in age, he’s pretty, you’re together a lot, you get along. Nothing to it - even if it feels like there was. Even if it feels like every time you’re near him you’re going to melt and the air gets too thick and all you want is to pull him to the back room one more time.

John… John you can’t justify like that. He’s your boss. He’s over a decade older than you. Easily. He’s been so good to you but that’s not an excuse - it’s not right. You’re jeopardizing his place in his community. You’re jeopardizing your job. The best job you’ve ever had. The best friends you’ve ever had.

You can feel Johnny glancing at you as you walk, your eyes square on the ground and fists clenched anxiously. The heat outside only makes your head spin faster. Your cheeks feel feverishly hot. The ice cream almost curdles in your gut. Everything is too loud, too hot, too heavy.

You glance up at the clock. The day’s almost over - there probably won’t be more than one or two people that file in at most. You’ve finished with your work, currently just cross hatching on a sticky note in an attempt to calm your frayed nerves. It hasn’t worked. You need a distraction. A real, proper distraction.

“Johnny.” You snap, standing in the door way to his workroom.

“Hm?” He looks up, thick brows raised.

“I want a piercing.”

He cocks his head, taking you in from head to toe. “Aye?”

“If you have time.”

“I’ve always got time fer ye.” He grins.

You almost roll your eyes, but you’re too raw at the edges to really care about his usual flirting. There’s too much weighing on your mind - too much real anxiety knotting itself around your synapses and crushing them in it’s hold. The pain will help. It’ll ground you - sharpen your senses. You can focus on taking care of it for the next couple days between sleeping the days away until Wednesday. Until you can get this shit over with.

The only answer is to quit, right?

That’s your only option.

“What d’ye want?” Johnny asks.

You shrug. “What’d you think?”

He taps his chin, eyes slowly making their way over your body. You wonder if he can see how tense you are - body so locked up your joints ache and your jaw throbs. It’s a wonder your teeth are still there with how much you’ve been grinding them.

“How about a navel?”

“Okay.” You agree too quickly, flopping back on the pairing table. You focus in on a water mark on the ceiling above while Johnny digs through his tool cabinet, laying everything neatly on a small rolling tray.

Johnny stops above you. You don’t even turn your head to look, fists clenching and unclenching.

You’ll have to quit.

That’s your only choice. No reference calls, no contact. Will Simon hate you? Will they all? Will they talk about why you up and left? Will they show up at your apartment to demand an answer? No. You don’t mean that much - only a blip on the timeline of their shop. The corners of your eyes burn.

Johnny’s fingers skate over your soft middle, barely touching as he passes over the button of your jeans. He pauses, glancing down at you. “Bonnie?”

“Yeah?” You reply a little too harshly.

Johnny leans over you, hands on either side of your head, blue eyes burning through your skull. He blocks out the light above. “Yer doin’ this because ye want to, yeah? Not to punish yerself?”

You shrink into the table, hackles raising. It really is so easy to forget that Johnny is an observant bastard. Loud, brash, but he still sees everything. Like how he learned your coffee order by heart without you ever even saying it to him or having it written on the cup. He absorbs things, files it away, keeps it close to his chest and hides it behind his blunt, brash daily manners. You’ll miss him.

“I- yeah, I’m fine.” You wince internally at the shake in your voice.

“Y’know, we all love ye.” Johnny murmurs.

You huff, eyes darting anywhere to get away from his. Laying on the table suddenly feels slightly trapping. You can’t get your gaze fully away from where he stands over you - so close as his thick arms cage you in. “Guess so.”

“An’ there’s nothin’ tae feel guilty or bad about.”

Your eyes snap to his face, wide and worried. Does he know? Was he told? Do you ask? If you ask, you’ll be admitting to it. If you ask, then he will know for sure. If you ask, you might ruin it all. “I don’t-“

“Ye do.” He cuts you off. “An’ ye have permission, even if ye dinnae need it. It’s okay. Ye havennae done anythin’ wrong.”

You stare, mouth opening and closing lamely. Johnny. Straight forward, loud mouth, unsubtle Johnny. Fuck, you love him for it. Doesn’t dance around what he means. Doesn’t avoid what needs to be said - from his end, at least.

“Did- did you talk to-?” You stutter, struggling between needing to know and fear to admit the truth so blatantly. Even if he obviously knows something.

“Not really. Not my business.” Johnny shrugs casually.

Not his business. So they persue separately, you think. That makes sense. Probably. It’s probably wrong to make assumptions about the dynamic, about the implication that they have some sort of free for all. Then again, you don’t really know anything about their interpersonal workings much. They live together, they’re touchy. The dynamic is a mystery to you - only adding to the piles of confusion.

“Yer thinkin’ tae hard about it.” He pokes the furrow between your brows.

Oh. Is that it? You’re overthinking? No, adults talk about these things. You don’t understand the interpersonal workings here at all. Are they together? Do they just do this? Pull girls in and push them around until they get tired? That feels too cruel for them. They’ve taken such good care of you…

“I still… want to talk.” You murmur, cheeks warm.

His face softens, a light smile tugging at his lips. “An’ ye will. Kyle’s been damn near loosin’ it with ye avoiding him.”

“I’m not avoiding him!” You snap far too defensively.

“Sure ye aren’t.” Johnny shrugs, as if to tell you he knows that’s bull. Not his business, though, he said. “Just… donnae be so scared of us, aye? We’ve got yer back.”

Your shoulders drop, sore from being tensed for the entire day. “Okay.”

“Still want tae get peirced?”

You nod, chest far less tight. As though you finally let go of a breath you had been holding the entire day. “Sure, why not.”

Your shoulders slump as Johnny makes his way through the usual song and dance - showing you the freshly cleaned tools and marking the spot for the needle. Somehow the world seems… quieter. As if all the chatter in your mind had been just as deafening to your physical ears. It’s tiring. That same sting behind your eyes that you get after a long night out. Your defenses are down, and your body is finally at rest.

“Ow!” You gasp, lifting your head to meet Johnny’s impish grin with a glare. “A little warning next time!”

“Tha’s what happens when ye donnae listen.” He teases, slipping the jewelry through. “She’s cute.”

You snort. “She better be. Y’know I should tell John on you for improper conduct.”

He cocks an eyebrow. “Aye, ye an’ Price know plenty about improper conduct.”

There’s no malice in the comment, or in the grin he settles on you. For once, you don’t freeze up. Don’t send yourself into a panic spiral over what he knows or thinks or feels. Johnny made himself clear. Instead you land a light smack against his arm and huff in embarrassment.

“Stand f’me.” Johnny murmurs after cleaning the piercing, a heat in his eyes that you can’t quite gauge the source of.

You do as you’re told, slipping off the table. You have to hook a finger into the waistband of your jeans to keep them up, cheeks hot as you realize how much is actually exposed with the fully undone fly. You glance up at a far too pleased Johnny. Didn’t even say a word, the mischievous bastard.

He drops to his knees in front of you. Your brows shoot damn near into the sky. Johnny mumbles something about making sure the piercing is sitting right. You roll with it, knowing he’s probably just saying whatever to get you to keep your pants undone a little longer. Your breath quickens as a large, warm hand flattens itself over your soft belly, unabashedly groping. Not that you mind, really, even if it does make your face so hot it might melt.

Your heart almost breaks out of your rib cage when he places a small kiss next to the piercing. His hand lowers, resting beside yours on the waistband of your jeans.

“May I?” Johnny murmurs, big blue eyes blinking up at you.

You have permission.

You don’t need permission.

You have it, though.

“Yeah.” You gasp, shivering at the cold air on your skin as Johnny pulls your pants halfway down your thighs.

“Pretty, pretty lass.” He murmurs, nipping at the softness of your belly and down to your thigh. “Look at ye.”

“Flatterer.” You scoff, attempting to let the tension melt off your shoulders with the usual snide remarks you slide each others way.

“M’just honest…” Johnny mumbles absently, fingers catching in the hems of your underwear. “Ye always walkin’ around in somethin’ this skintie?”

For a moment, your brows knit in confusion. That is until he pulls back and snaps the string of your thong against your hip. Your face somehow gets even hotter and you grumble out a poor excuse of, “S’laundry day…”

Your hips twitch as he traces between your lips through the cloth. So uncharacteristically slow and methodical for Johnny as he feels you, like he’s trying to memorize it. A shamefully harsh jolt runs up your spine as he presses just slightly into your clit.

“Sensitive little thing.” Johnny grins up at you. You swear the devil has a less delinquent grin.

“It’s been a while.” You shrug, aiming once again for casual and missing by a mile.

His grin only grows, eyes bright and hungry. “Let’s get these off.”

You shimmy your hips a bit to help him get both your underwear and jeans completely down. A wave of shyness overtakes you as it settles in that you’re utterly exposed to Johnny, your friend and coworker, in the middle of your workplace just as the sun has begun to edge down close to the horizon. It’s almost too much, and you almost yank your pants back on with a stammered, fake excuse, but Johnny soothes his hands up your thighs, gaze locked onto your pussy like it’s the only thing that exists and yeah… you want that.

You have permission.

“There she is.” He cups you gently, grinding the heel of his hand against your clit just hard enough to make you gasp.

Before you can say or do anything his hand retracts and Johnny settles you with the most serious look you’ve ever seen from him. It looks wrong, almost, on that face that’s supposed to have a permanent ear to ear grin.

“If ye want tae stop, I need ye tae tell me now.”

“No.” The word leaves you before you can even register the thought - desperate and breathy.

It earns a low chuckle. The only warning you get before Johnny licks a long stripe up between your lips, letting his tongue rest on your clit for just a moment before repeating the motion as though he’s not just eating you out but truly trying to truly get a taste for you. To memorize you as he drinks you in.

“Should let me give you a Christina…” He murmurs, pulling back to look at you.

“Ah, wha-“

“Look so pretty on this fat little cunt.” Johnny gives you a light smack for good measure, grinning at the visible jolt that travels up your spine before diving back in. He hooks a leg over his shoulder, leaving you balancing on your tip toes with your hands flat on the table behind you. It’s precarious and with absolutely no room to escape the attention he’s lavishing on you. It’s almost desperate, the way he moves. The way he devours. A man utterly starved.

“Fuck-“ you gasp as his tongue piercing catches your clit. Rough hands knead at the softness of your thighs and hips, urging you to press into him, to take as much as he’s giving.

“Tha’s it, ride m’face…” Your fingers lock into his mohawk and Johnny’s slurred words become the most pornographic moan you think you’ve ever heard. He practically goes limp - body relaxed and pliant while you grind down onto his tongue.

You tilt your head forward, risking looking down only to meet those big blue eyes staring up at you with all the intensity of the sun. A shaky moan passes your lips and his eyes flutter.

“J-Johnny-” The whine of his name only spurs him on - has him pressing his tongue so deep inside you and drinking you in full.

If he has any complaints about the way your heel digs between his shoulder blades as you unconsciously pull him closer, he doesn’t make it known. His nails rake over your ass, biting and stinging in contrast to everything else. It’s so much. Heat continues to pool at the base of your spine - babbling words, please and moans spill messily from your lips.

Your climax catches you off guard as Johnny sucks harshly at your clit; lighting your body aflame with only his mouth. Every muscle inside you tenses and the sounds you let out can only be described as strangled whines.

You have to yank a little at Johnny’s hair to get him to stop when the overstimulation reaches just the wrong side of too much; he’s well and truly lost in the moment. It fuels your ego to dangerous heights - the idea that this gorgeous man became that intoxicated just from your pussy.

There isn’t even time to say anything before Johnny is standing and connecting his lips with yours. You taste yourself on his tongue, his lips - somehow this is the first time you’ve found that pleasant. With heavy breaths you watch him wipe around his mouth his his palm, only to exaggeratedly lick and clean what’s left off his hand. Fucking sinful.

“Nasty man.” You sigh, too blissed out to be truly critical. Johnny winks and you roll your eyes.

“S’about quittin’ time.” He says, tilting his head to look up at you through thick lashes. “Should get ye home.”

You frown, still trying to come back to earth as you glance down. “Don’t- do you want-?”

He looks you over, your mouth goes dry as his hand drops from your hip to adjust himself. The implications of the outline through his thick denim has your head reeling and your breath quickening. Johnny chuckles at you, surely seeing it written plain across your face. You might as well start drooling and panting like a dog.

He buries his nose into the crook of your neck to nip at your skin. “Another time. Want tae savor ye.”

You shiver, unable to stop the smile that quirks up the corners of your lips. You have permission. You don’t need it, but you have it.

A/N: Sorry if this is a little rough, I'm getting back into the swing of things. It's finally time for things to get fun, tho ;)

Also please give some love to this AMAZING fanart from @eurydicescurse

[chlorinecake]

❝ DON’T WAKE DAD ❞ — ✿ 𝐏.𝐒𝐇 ׅ ㅤ֢ ㅤׄㅤ .

── 𝓈𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈 ܃ Sunghoon was your stepbrother, and ever since your two fractured families merged into one, he’s had feelings for you. Deep down, he knows the attraction is wrong, but the taboo of it all only made it more addicting to him…

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝒶𝒾𝓃𝓈 ｡｡｡ KINKTOBER SPECIAL, swearing, kissing, mentions of virginity loss, oral (m. r), masturbation (f. r), stepcest kink, cum eating, manhandling, face slapping, hair pulling, breath play, unprotected sex, dirty talk, mentions of 02z, reader is younger than sunghoon & has long hair, short parental argument, that’s all

𝐖ORD 𝐂OUNT ⨾ 4199 — 𓊆ྀི Day 10 𓊇ྀི

“She’s hot as fuck, I can’t help it…” Sunghoon sighed while readjusting himself in his seat just at the mere thought of you.

He and his two friends, Jake and Jay, were hanging out in your step-father’s backyard near the pool, helping themselves toa few cold drinks and some conversation while round about the outdoor table.

“Who fucking cares, dude?” Jake asked rhetorically, his Australian accent rugged and thick with utter confusion and disgust.

“Exactly bro… you’re playing with dangerous fire here, Hoon, and trust me when I say you don’t wanna mess with that step-sis shit…” Jay added, crossing his legs where where he sat.

“Why not, though?” Sunghoon challenged, pulling out his phone to swipe a few notifications clouding his screen.

“Well, for starters, screwing your step-sister in real life is a lot more tricky than how it’s shown in pornos… secondly, you two could be blood-related for all you know!” Jake pitched in, spreading his arms as if to convey increased importance.

“Please…. I highly doubt that…” Sunghoon scoffed, shaking his head at his friend's cautious protest.

“Right… and what makes you so sure then, huh..? You’ve taken any DNA tests lately?” Jay questioned matter-of-factly.

“Of course not, idiot, but that’s beside the point—”

“She might have the same dad as you!” Jake went on in a fit of concern.

“Not possible… my father had a vasectomy before I was even born, and my step-sister’s younger than me…”

“Then you all might have the same mom, it doesn’t matter! You never know with this type of stuff, dude—”

“Wait- Shhh…” Sunghoon whispered, just as a woman’s voice in the distance filled his ears until you eventually walked by.

“Hey, Hoon!” You chirped, paying a brief yet respectable wave to his friends as well, “Your dad’s been looking for you all afternoon, by the way…”

“Oh yeah? What’s up with him?” Sunghoon asked in between taking a sip from his soda can.

“He said something about you leaving the garage door unlocked last night?… I don’t know, maybe he just wants to talk to you about it…”

“God… I mean, okay, uh… thanks for letting me know, sis…”

“Mhm,” you hummed with a nod, right before turning on your heel and walking back from whence you came...

“Dad?” Jay repeated with confusion.

“Sis?” Jake added, just as confused.

“Yup… and we don’t look very similar now, do we?” Sunghoon offered with a proud smirk, taking the last sip of his cherry cola with a clenched jaw and sighing at the fizzy sensation.

“Fine, but what difference does it make when you live under the same roof and share a set of parents, biologically or not?” 

The space felt quiet at Jay’s sudden comment, with nothing other than chirping birds in the distance filling the void. 

“Look man, I gotta go now, but please, at the very least… consider… our advice,” Jay said in a more solemn tone before shuffling from his seat and standing up to walk away.

“Yea… I mean… I’ll consider it,” Sunghoon nodded nonchalantly while waving his friend off, but Jay didn’t see it as shady because that’s how Sunghoon always acted…

Numb, absent, impetuous.

It’s those precise qualities in him that initially earned your attraction, and they were the same qualities that eventually made you stick around…

1 hour later…

“It’s so pretty, Hoon…” you admired from beneath your step-brother, trailing an inquisitive finger along the underside of his cock as he nearly dug crescents into the palms of his hands from how tightly he balled his fists.

He was just so, so sensitive…

“Can I now?” You asked softly, eager to finally have his cock in your mouth and stretching your slutty little lips apart with his thickness…

And to no one’s shock, he was just as eager to have your mouth around him, too…

Of all the private time you’ve spent with Sunghoon, you two had tried almost everything in the books from dry humping, nipple sucking (on both sides), vaginal sex, cockwarming, and even mutual masturbation on some accounts…

Though, you had never tried giving him oral before, and it’s an act that’s been on your mental bucket list for quite a while now.

“Go on, angel,” Sunghoon groaned, watching intently as you began prepping him by stroking the base of his length, and he swears a hand has never felt so good around his cock before.

Your step-brother, being the handsome guy that he was, had his fair share of sexual experiences in the past…

However, once he met you, or more accurately, once y’all crossed that dangerous physical boundary, he fell in love with you in a way that would never be considered brotherly.

Simply put, you were the best at everything to him; making him feel better after a bad day, listening to his most profound thoughts when no one else would, etc etc.

And it helped that you were one of the most beautiful girls he had met, too…

The first time he had sex with you, he remembered gazing at your cunt first before sliding himself in, and he felt so bad for having to be the first one to stretch you out.

You were so tight and fragile and he was so thick and long that it took more than a few tries just to have sex properly…

But since then, you became his little fuck toy, and he simply dreaded the thought of some other guy getting to enjoy those parts of you one day…

The parts he worked so hard to cultivate in you… the parts that he felt should be for his eyes and his eyes only…

“Ohhh, God,” Sunghoon groaned suddenly, sealing his pretty brown eyes shut at the feeling of your lips sliding along the center of his shaft.

His tip, the most sensitive part of his cock, found utter bliss in the back of your tight throat, and his tense hips subconsciously bucked into your mouth, causing you to tap his thigh as a sign to slow down.

“Sorry,” he whispered, tucking your hair behind your ear to prevent it from getting in the way, but you couldn’t help yourself from marveling at the way his length twitched inside your mouth, its tip already crying out precum as you kept bobbing your head nice and slow.

And it was genuinely such an honor to be sucking him off, considering how much he had done for you in the past… things that your parents never had to find out about because he was there to help you.

For instance, you vividly recall the time when a deadbeat date you met at a party dropped you off on the side of the road after you rejected his sexual advances, and Sunghoon was the only person who answered your call that night…

That same night marked the first night you kissed each other… in his car at a red light on your way home, to be precise… 

And you cried the rest of the drive back to the family mansion until Sunghoon managed to finally calm you down with a hug… one that led to him sleeping in your bed that night with his clothed cock slowly rutting against the curve of your ass…

You remember pretending like it didn’t happen for a while until eventually, the taboo craving was reciprocated in you; you wanted Sunghoon just as much as he always wanted you…

“Fuck, baby… ‘m so close,” your stepbrother groaned in pleasure, keeping his hands in your hair because it was genuinely one of his favorite parts about you, “Yea… keep drooling around my fat cock, baby… just like that… shit~”

You squeezed your thighs at Sunghoon’s desperate dirty talk, feeling yourself getting more and more turned on every time he swore beneath his breath.

“Go on, angel… touch yourself for me,” he mewled from above you, compelling you to do exactly what he just suggested.

Slipping your fingers past the waistband of your skirt, you found your core instantly given how you weren’t wearing any underwear.

You slid your digits over your folds while still sucking his dick before humming at the feeling of your aching clit finallygetting some attention.

“Didn’t know sucking my cock would turn you on so much,” he snickered through a smirk, only to groan once again as you hummed around his dick, reeling him even closer to climaxing.

With just a few more bobs of your head, Sunghoon was finally coming undone, screwing his thick eyebrows shut with his head thrown back.

His thumbs slowly outlined the side of your hairline as he looked back down at you with pure affection, slipping his cock out of you as cum coated every surface of your mouth—

“C’mere, princess,” he whispered in a raspy voice, finding your lips in the sweetest kiss as your tongues intertwined, all while you still stimulated your clit beneath your clothes…

And as if you weren’t feeling a bit lightheaded already, you definitely were now, feeling your hips spasm the more and more his tongue ran against yours.

Before you knew it, you were crying out Sunghoon’s name into his mouth and creaming all over your fingers.

“Shhh,” he cooed while holding your head in place with a gentle hand, backing away only once so he could see the look on your face as you finished.

It was such a beautiful sight to him, too… the way your eyes brimmed with tears as you bit down on your lower lip, trying to keep quiet but failing nonetheless…

He loved every part of it—

Knock, knock, knock.

“Sunghoon, are you in there?” Your mom called out from behind the door, just mere feet away from you two.

“Uhh, yeah, what’s up?” Sunghoon asked as calmly as he could manage while you both worked on readjusting your clothes back.

“Your father’s ready to have dinner with everyone,” she continued, trying to listen in on what was happening on the other side of the door, only to have her ears filled with the sound of shuffling.

“Alright, I’ll be down in a minute,” Sunghoon answered, just as you stood up to kiss him again, desperate for more.

“Great… I’ll go and tell your sister to join us, too,” she said before finally walking away, and you smiled even deeper into the kiss as Sunghoon’s hands found your body, guiding your hips closer against him.

30 minutes later…

“Why’re you making such a big deal out of this, Dad?”

“Because you’re too irresponsible for your age,” your stepfather scolded at the dinner table, the awkward clinking of silver forks against glass plates filling the room.

“Just because I forgot to lock the garage back on one night?”

“One night is all it takes for someone to come in and rob us, son,” his dad argued in between chewing on a piece of steak,“if you ever want this property or anything in the family estate to be yours, you better start acting like it belongs to you already…”

“But I do, Dad… can’t you see that?” Sunghoon asked with frustration in between eating some rice from his plate, “I keep the pool clean, cut the lawn weekly, and help out with bills, what else do you want me to do?”

“Lock the garage door back at night. Let’s start there,” his dad said plainly, and Sunghoon simply scoffed at his words.

“Right… got it, sir, but I’ll be excusing myself now,” Sunghoon said while getting up from the table with his dad in unison.

“No, you sit back down and finish eating so you can help your mom and sister clean up… I’m going to my room…”

“Ugh,” your mother sighed, getting up from the table and following in the exact steps as Sunghoon’s father did, “Sorry to leave you guys hanging, but I think I’m gonna call it a night and just chill out with your dad…”

“Oh… yeah, that’s fine,” you and your stepbrother smiled softly while getting up to wash dishes, “have a good night…”

“You, too, guys,” she smiled softly with her hands clasped in front of her before eventually leaving.

In the meantime, you got started on loading the dishwasher and wiping the kitchen surfaces; Sunghoon helped by sweeping and taking out the trash.

Afterward, you and Sunghoon sat on the living room couch and talked for a bit, the sound of the dishwashing machine thrumming in the distance.

You remembered his friends kept giving you weird looks earlier, so you decided to ask Sunghoon what they were talking about as a conversation starter.

“Oh- nothing, really… they were just curious about who you were, is all…” Sunghoon answered plainly, gentle clicks coming from his fingers as he toggled with the TV remote, searching for something good to watch.

And you knew it shouldn’t have affected you so much, but you could almost feel his hands all over you again just from looking at them…

You could feel the way his fingers were cupping your face earlier, and the way his palm felt resting on the small of your back as he kissed you that evening—

“Wanna watch something scary?” He offered, interrupting your brief thoughts.

“Do we even have a choice?” You returned while glancing at the screen, shocked to see there were predominantly horror movies playing tonight.

“I swear, it's like people never get bored of having scary movie marathons,” Sunghoon shrugged before eventually turning the TV off.

Currently, you were both sitting opposite to each other on the couch, up until your stepbrother patted the empty space next to him, signaling for you to come closer.

You laid your head on his shoulder, and the warmth of his body radiating through the cotton sweater he wore made you sigh in comfort.

“What, you're getting sleepy already?” Sunghoon asked with a soft smile, not expecting you to have snuggled against him so suddenly.

“No,” you said, reaching for his pale hand before tracing the nail beds of his fingers with your own, “just wanna enjoy this gentle moment with you...”

“Oh... Seriously?”

“Mhm...” You hummed against him, making the smile on his face linger for a little longer, “Can I ask you something?”

“Yea, what is it?”

“Well... hypothetically speaking, if your dad left his bedroom door open all night, how much do you think we could get away with in here?…”

“____...”

“Relax, it's just a question,” you pouted, letting go of his hand and touching his tense thigh instead.

He gulped before answering.

“Okay then... hypothetically speaking... I know I could keep quiet during a lot of things, but you on the other hand...” his voice trailed off as he gave you a knowing look instead of finishing his sentence.

“What? Finish what you were gonna say, loser,” you chuckled, sitting up to look him in the face now, but judging from his cheeks alone, you could tell he was a bit flustered about something...

“Hey,” you spoke softly, moving your hand from his thigh and cupping his face instead, but it didn't stay there long before he was pushing you on your back, caging you beneath him on the sofa.

“I think it might be better if I just show you instead of telling you, hm?” He whispered, dangerously close to your face, and you felt your heart rate increase while caged beneath him…

Not because you were nervous, but because you knew your parents were likely still awake, and you’d hate to get caught in a position like this.

“S-Sunghoon, maybe not in here, okay?” You began with shaky breaths, trying to keep your voice as low as possible now,“It’s too risky…”

“Shhh,” he whispered again, right before leaning down to kiss you, and you hated how it was truly that easy for him to win your submission.

Sliding a hand over your breasts, he found your neck in his grip, gently but firmly.

Though, the pressure only increased from here, and it was enough to make you squeak.

“You’re seriously getting all noisy, and just from that?” He judged you with a snicker, “If you want me to fuck you, y’know you’re gonna have to stay quiet, pretty… think you can do that for me?… hm?”

You could only manage to whimper in response, and he finally freed your neck from his rough hand, at first you think it’sbecause he’s easing up on you, but then you realize that he was just getting started.

Sitting up, he tugs your pants down to your thighs, only to have you immediately pull them back up again.

“Do you really wanna force me to get rough with you tonight, baby?” Sunghoon slithered, cupping your entire cunt in his hand before grinding his palm against your clothed sex, and he almost laughed out loud at the way you squirmed now.

“I can’t believe you’re being this s-stupid right now,” you stammered, but you couldn’t stop your hips from subconsciously bucking against the delicious friction he provided.

“Look at you… rejecting my advances only to grind against my hand like a bitch in heat,” he retorted, spitting in his free palm before slapping you across the cheek, the added moisture only adding to the echo of the impact.

You wanted to curse him out, kick him, punch him, or even just yell at him for doing that to you… but someway, somehow, you felt your body freeze at his gaze, and tears erupted from your eyelash beds in the same way they did the first night he kissed you… the first night he claimed you as his…

“Now, you know I didn’t wanna have to do that, sweetie,” Sunghoon pouted with a hoarseness to his tone, and you immediately felt his erection brush up against your thigh.

“As my little sister, you’re supposed to obey me, no matter what I ask of you,” he continued tenderly now, wiping the tears from your face with the back of his hand.

Your cheek still stung from where he slapped you, and it only made matters worse when you heard shuffling from your parent's room.

“B-but… I am ob-beying you,” you sniffled, voice cracking slightly as he kissed your face right where he struck you.

“Good,” he smiles, ceasing his hand in groping your cunt, “So that means you’ll let me make you feel good and you’llkeep quiet then, right?”

“Y-yes, Sunghoon,” you nodded, feeling him kiss your lips one last time before freeing you of his daunting shadow, only to stand up from the couch and tug you in whatever position he pleased.

And he handled your body as if you were weightless, but you knew that had more to do with his strength training than anything.

Situating you on your knees on the floor of the couch, he knelt behind you, caressing your waist while pressing his front against your ass.

Keeping all your clothes on, the only thing he did was slide both of your bottoms down, and you don’t think you ever felt more eager than you did once the cool room air hit your aching cunt.

And that’s when your stepbrother started sliding his burning red cock between your folds, trying his hardest not to spank you as that would only make more noise.

“You ready, baby?” He asked, making a makeshift ponytail of your hair, but before you could even answer, he was already sliding inside you all the way now.

And because you and he had sex so many times in the past, it’s like your walls were carved just for him.

No matter the circumstance, Sunghoon could always count on you being ready to take him in every which way he desired…

So, when you put up a little fight today, he made sure to remember it as he started rutting into you, keeping one hand firmly at your hips while the other one secured your head.

“Ohh…. mmm… ahhh,” you hummed, keeping your eyes shut completely as the faint sound of skin against skin filled the room.

His cock felt so good inside you, just like it always did… given the position, your cunt was angled a little different than what you were used to, but it helped him to fuck even deeper into you anyway.

“Feels good, baby?… Yea?… You just love taking your step-brother’s fat cock in your tight cunt, don’t you… you dirty little- nghh,” Sunghoon groaned breathlessly from behind you, pulling your hair back further now as he roughly pounded into you again and again.

“Your ass is so perfect, too,” he slurred, and all the dirty talk was making your pussy throb even more, with his greedy cock loving the sensation as well.

“Fuck, Hoonie,” you whimpered quietly, arching your back a bit so he could fuck you even deeper, when suddenly, you felt his grip release from your hair, causing your face to meet the couch cushions.

You could conveniently bury your face into the, whenever you felt like making a noise, letting all your naughty little sounds dissipate into the cotton.

He was bucking his hips behind you so fast and hard though now that even the wooden floorboards were starting to creak…

“Nghh…. Oh my g… ahh… fuck, baby,” you whined into the couch, but being so lost in the pleasure, it didn’t seem like Sunghoon cared to keep quiet anymore either.

He was grunting all loud like a madman now, and if it wasn’t for the air conditioner drowning out the squelching noises of skin-to-skin, you’re certain your parents would’ve caught you like this…

Your hearts pounded in unison as Sunghoon's hands continued to roam over your soft, supple body, tracing the curves of her hips before grabbing hold of the swells of your breasts. 

You couldn't help but let out a stifled moan as squeezed you in his grip, filling you with an intensity that was almost too much to bear.

Biting down on your wrist, you tried your hardest to keep yourself from crying out, but it wasn’t long before you felt your walls tightening around him, Bo your collective breaths growing more ragged as you approached the brink. 

“S-Sunghoon, I’m getting close,” you gasped, feeling something in your stomach tighten the faster your stepbrotherfucked his throbbing cock into you.

“S-so am I,” he stammered as the initially deep tone of his voice started to sound more desperate and vulnerable.

Sunghoon's eyes fluttered shut as he concentrated on the pleasure your soaking wet hole provided him with, digging his nails into your hips to contain all the energy within himself until it finally happened; with a silent scream of pleasure, you shuddered around his cock, making him lean forward to cover your mouth and conceal your moans, causing you to whine into his hand.

Swearing beneath your breath, he felt it was safe to remove his hand from your mouth now as your body arched off of the couch, and Sunghoon’s orgasm followed closely behind.

Not wanting to finish inside you, he pulled out as quickly as he could, jerking his slimy cock with the same hand he just covered your mouth with before cumming all over your back, using it as a landscape for his ivory release.

Sunghoon then pulled your shirt back over to cover you, and if you weren’t so tired and fucked out, the feeling of his sticky cum smearing under the cotton of your clothes would’ve made you cringe.

The two of you just lay there for a moment, panting and trembling with slick sheens of sweat decorating every corner of your collective bodies.

With a satisfied sigh, you looked down the hallway, noticing that your parent's door was already closed and that perhaps,the two of you missed it earlier given all the excitement.

You were already starting to feel the aches in your body creep up on you given how rough Sunghoon was being, but that all melted away once his lips connected with yours, humming into a gentle kiss.

“Let me help you to bed, sissy,” he whispered, helping you get up from the ground now.

He offered to carry you, but you insisted that you could walk on your own.

A few steps later, you were eventually in your bedroom with Sunghoon’s delicate hands getting to work on removing your shirt and wiping down your back.

Sliding a nightgown over your head, he gave you one last kiss goodnight before sweeping off to his own room now… but something in you told you this wasn’t the last you’d see of him tonight…

It was on nights like this that you missed Sunghoon most; despite how you two had already shared such intense intimacy with each other, you still craved his presence, and of course, he felt the same.

As you forced your eyes shut to hopefully get some sleep in, you comforted yourself with the fact that you never heard the soft click of the door latch from Sunghoon’s bedroom, letting you know that it’d only be a few minutes before his footsteps would echo through the hallway as he’d slip into bed beside you.

✎𓂃 Thanks for reading DAY 10's fic entry for my 2024 Kinktober Event !! Sorry I’m a day late to posting this (I had to process some issues in one of my friendships), but nonetheless, if you're interested, feel free to check out my main enhypen masterlist or my kinktober masterlist here !!

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