#ensemble stars one shot | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

vanteguccir · 1 month ago

Text

── ୨୧ !　DRESS TO IMPRESS IN REAL LIFE

matt sturniolo x reader

SUMMARY: Where Y/N, Matt's secret girlfriend, participates in the 'Dress to Impress in real life' video.

WARNING: None.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by an anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

A/N²: I added and changed some dialogs that didn't happen on the video, so the fic ended being more complete.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

The triplets were buzzing with energy, their house a hive of activity as they set up for their newest video; Dress to Impress, real-life edition. Each round had its own theme, and the first one was Summer Vacation. Y/N had been roped into joining as a surprise guest, and secretly, Matt couldn't have been more thrilled.

The boys had already pulled out all the stops with their outfits. Chris sported a chaotic ensemble: a bucket hat with panels of clashing colors, lime green slides, and denim cargo shorts.

Matt was rocking a relaxed, dad-on-vacation vibe, complete with an oversized straw hat, patterned swim trunks, and a shirt that screamed, 'I don’t care, I’m on island time'.

Nick had gone full beach prep with a striped tank top, sunglasses that were almost too tiny for his face, and a retro cooler box tucked under his arm like an accessory.

As the camera rolled, Y/N was still getting ready in Matt’s bathroom, leaving the boy's to discuss who went better between the three of them.

"Alright." Chris said, pointing a finger at Nick’s cooler. "I’m just saying, if you don’t actually have anything in there, that’s a waste of a prop."

"It’s called committing to the bit, Chris." Nick shot back, adjusting the towel draped over his shoulder. "The cooler is the vibe."

Matt, who was adjusting his sunglasses, glanced toward the bathroom door, his face lighting up as if he could sense Y/N’s presence through the walls.

"Y/N better bring it. I know she’s got something amazing up her sleeve."

Nick rolled his eyes, looking at Matt with a boring expression.

"Why do I feel like you’re already planning to give her every win, no matter what she’s wearing?"

"Because I am." Matt replied bluntly, grinning like the lovesick puppy he was.

The door finally creaked open, and all three boys turned as Y/N emerged. She had nailed the summer vacation aesthetic, wearing a flowy, tropical-patterned sundress, bikini top below it, oversized black Prada sunglasses perched on her nose, and sandals that matched her outfit perfectly. She’d even added a straw beach bag for good measure.

"Okay, Y/N, I see you!" Chris exclaimed, clapping his hands together.

Y/N laughed, grinning widely before twirling to show off her look.

"Alright, that’s tough competition. You actually look like you're ready to spend the day at your beach house." Nick gave a low whistle, his blue eyes traveling from her face to her feet and back again. "But I'd say you're in fourth place. You're ready for the beach, not for any summer vacation."

"Fair." Y/N shrugged, take a quick peak at her outfit again before looking at Matt. "What do you think?"

Matt's eyes seemed to be shining like the whole cadence of stars, wandering through every detail of her choice of clothes.

"Are you kidding? That’s... that’s so good. You look like you stepped out of a summer vacation catalog or something." His voice sounded slightly high-pitched with excitement. "Nick's just jealous."

"What? No, I'm not!"

Chris rolled his eyes, already sensing where this was going.

"Oh, here we go."

"Like, if I saw you on the beach." Matt continued, ignoring his brothers entirely. "I’d probably just pass out. That’s how good you look."

"Okay, Matt." Nick said, holding up a hand. "We get it. Obsessive fucker."

The room filled with laughter, Y/N shaking her head but unable to hide the grin spreading across her face, her cheeks heating up.

"Right, first round? I'm second." Matt declared, gesturing toward himself. "Obviously, Y/N was first because, you know, she's Y/N." He gave her a little smile. "Then Nick was third, and Chris was fourth. That’s the average."

"Yeah, unfortunately." Nick muttered, throwing his hands up.

"Well." Chris turned dramatically to the camera and pointed. "They can vote."

Nick, not missing a beat, leaned closer to the camera, his voice dripping with mock confidence.

"Oh, I already know they’re gonna vote for me. Mine’s obviously the best. Unless..." He paused for dramatic effect, raising an eyebrow. "These girls wanna sleep with Matt and vote for him."

"What?!" Matt’s eyes widened in pure shock as he whipped his head toward the camera, looking utterly scandalized.

Y/N’s eyes flicked between Nick and Matt, her lips tightening slightly trying to suppress a laugh. It was impossible not to be amused by Nick’s antics.

She knew Nick wasn’t wrong, Matt’s popularity with their audience also had to do with his charm and, let’s face it, how good he looked on camera. There probably were plenty of girls who’d vote for Matt purely because of his looks, even if one of the other boys dressed better.

Nick continued without missing a beat.

"It’s the straight man advantage! You guys..." He gestured wildly at the camera. "Are gonna discriminate against me because I’m gay, and I don't like 'yall back."

At that, Y/N couldn’t help but burst into laughter, shaking her head.

Matt, still recovering from Nick’s bold accusation, raised a hand defensively.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on a second." He looked straight into the camera with that intense, sincere gaze that Y/N loved. "Just for the record, I’m completely off-limits. Completely."

The way he said it, firm and definitive, sent a wave of confidence through Y/N. Her lips twitched into a small smile as she crossed her arms, clearing her throat to contain her reactions, trying to play it cool.

Nick, however, wasn’t done.

"Oh, yeah? You really think they care about that?" He teased, smirking as Matt shook his head in disbelief.

Chris rolled his eyes, still laughing.

"Nick, stop trying to guilt-trip them into voting for you."

"I'm not doing anything." Nick replied with a wink, sending the group into another fit of laughter.

"Now, bring the runway on, boys!"

The camera cut to Chris, who had appointed himself the first to strut down their makeshift runway that started from the stairs.

He walked in quick steps before stopping in the center of their camera lens, dramatically fanning himself with an imaginary hand fan.

"Where did you even get the idea of the imaginary fan?" Y/N teased, laughing with the others.

"Shh, it’s part of the vibe." Chris replied, flipping his bucket hat backward with flair. He strolled toward the camera with exaggerated confidence, striking a series of ridiculous poses. "Yeah, you’re welcome." He said as he walked off-camera, leaving the other three in stitches.

Nick went next, cooler in hand.

"Get ready to witness greatness." He said, lifting the retro cooler above his head like it was the Holy Grail, showing it off.

"You go, queen!" Y/N cheered, nodding her head while watching him.

Nick smiled brightly, placing it down carefully and reached for the towel draped over his shoulder, unfolding it with slow, deliberate movements. Too slow.

"This is taking forever." Matt groaned, crossing his arms.

"Nick, it’s been 30 seconds. Just lay the towel down!" Chris yelled.

Nick ignored them, carefully smoothing out the towel on the floor, his face the picture of focus. Once he was satisfied, he walked down the "runway", throwing some expressions to the camera before almost gluing his face to the lens, taking his glasses off.

"Iconic." Y/N said between laughs.

"Thank you, thank you." Nick replied, bowing before dramatically kicking the towel aside as if to signal the end of his performance, his right hand fanning himself as the last act.

Matt was up next.

"Alright, let me show you how it’s done." He said confidently. Grabbing his sunscreen, he opened the cap and squeezed a dollop onto his fingers, dabbing it on his cheeks like football player stripes.

"Well, you gotta stay protected, I guess." Y/N muttered, smiling with how Chris was rooting like crazy.

Laughter escaped her lips as Matt sauntered toward the camera, showing off the sunscreen like it was a designer handbag. He struck a confident pose, holding the product up, before walking back off the camera with an over-the-top smile.

Finally, it was Y/N’s turn.

"Your move, Y/N." Nick said, gesturing grandly toward the imaginary runway.

"Alright, alright, give me a second." She said, thinking fast.

She reached into her straw bag, pulling out the pair of oversized sunglasses that she had thrown there at some point, dramatically placing it on her face. Then, grabbing a small beach towel she had tucked inside the bag, she draped it over one arm like a sash.

"What’s happening here?" Matt asked, intrigued.

Y/N strolled onto the "runway" with slow, exaggerated movements like a madame arriving at a five-star resort. Halfway down, she pretended to feel the heat, pulling an actual bottle of water from her bag and taking a sip before fanning herself with her hand.

"It has to have the fan move!" Nick applauded, grinning to the scene before being interrupted by Chris’s comment.

"Of course, I created it."

At the end of the runway, Y/N stopped, tossed her sunglasses off dramatically at the ground, and struck a ridiculous pose with one hand on her hip and the other shielding her eyes as if she was shielding her face from the sun.

"That was solid!" Chris exclaimed, clapping.

Matt, meanwhile, was in awe, hands on his head.

"Are you kidding? That was really good. A thousand points. Game over. Y/N wins. Everyone go home."

Nick scoffed.

"Matt, stop simping for two seconds so we can keep this contest going."

"I’m not simping." Matt argued, clearly lying. "I'm just stating facts."

"Shut up, Matt."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

For the Mix-Matched Madness theme, the camera panned to the boys standing in a line, proudly displaying their chaotic ensembles.

Chris was clad in a bright red varsity jacket over a striped shirt, camo pink shorts, and mismatched knee-high socks with chunky boots.

Matt decided for plaid shorts layered over one plaid pant leg, a pastel blue and yellow sweater vest, and a floppy dog-ear cap.

Nick went to a plaid jacket layered over a striped shirt with a perfectly coordinated tie, and matching sweatpants and sneakers.

"Guys, I’m clearly superior." Nick started, raising his eyebrows as he adjusted his glasses. "My outfit is actually intentional, look at this synergy! It screams fashion-forward."

Matt groaned, rolling his eyes and looking at Chris with a 'is he serious?' expression.

"Nick, you’re wearing matchy-matchy plaid in a mix-matched challenge. You’ve missed the assignment!"

"It’s ironic." Nick shot back, crossing his arms. "I’m doing intentional matching. If I were in a real runway right now, people would actually like my outfit."

Chris scratched his head, looking between them.

"Isn’t that kind of cheating, though?"

Before the debate could escalate further, Y/N stepped into the frame, causing all three boys to give her their attention.

Her outfit was next level: a bright purple sequined crop top paired with one lime green legging on her right leg and a fluffy, neon orange sock on the other. She wore a skirt made of layered, clashing floral patterns that didn’t quite match the fuzzy checkered cardigan she threw on top. To finish it off, her accessories included a leopard-print beanie - the one she stole from Matt's closet -, oversized sunglasses, and two entirely different shoes, a silver stiletto on one foot and a Croc on the other.

The boys gawked.

"Okay, now that’s mix-matched madness." Chris said, pointing at her.

"Girl, you look like you fell into a thrift store... and it worked." Nick added, looking both impressed and slightly annoyed.

"How can you still look so good while wearing... that?" Matt asked, pointing at her outfit with his hand while shaking his head in disbelief.

Y/N twirled dramatically, holding out her skirt as she grinned at the camera.

"Thank you, boys. I like to call this 'chaos with confidence'." She invented the random name, throwing a quick kiss to the lens.

Chris threw his hands up.

"Alright, I’m officially placing second now."

Nick groaned, shaking his head dramatically.

"No way. She’s great, but I’m still winning. Look at this tie!"

Matt laughed.

"Nick, your tie doesn’t save you from breaking the theme. You’re disqualified."

The scene cut to the "runway", where each of them showcased their chaotic outfits with an equally chaotic performance.

First up was Nick. He confidently strutted forward, reaching for the end of his tie. With exaggerated flair, he lifted it as if someone were pulling him forward, his face a picture of mock shock and drama, stumbling forward.

"Ey, keep going!" Chris hollered, nodding enthusiastically.

The moment he reached the end of the runway, he grinned mischievously, running his hand dramatically through his hair and tossing a sultry look at the camera before taking off his pink glasses.

"Work it, Nick!" Y/N chimed in, her laughter mixing with the chaos.

Nick turned on his heel with a laugh, sauntering back to the start and throwing a praying gesture, ignoring how Matt laughed, mockingly imitating his act.

Next, Matt stepped up, adjusting his floppy dog-ear cap before suddenly spinning it backward.

"Showtime." He muttered under his breath, earning immediate chuckles from the others. He walked to the camera with a cocky stride, crossing his arms and bending slightly to the side.

For the final move, he pivoted and moonwalked his way back to the start, nearly slipping on his mismatched shoes but recovering with a grin.

"Did you see that? Effortless." Matt declared, earning boos and laughs from the rest.

"You almost ate it, Matt." Y/N teased, shaking her head.

Chris stepped up next. And, of course, he brought drama.

"Hold my jacket." He said, then immediately shook his head. "Actually, no. The floor will."

With exaggerated aggression, he ripped off one of his red lobster gloves, throwing it to the ground with flair. The glove was followed by his belt, which he unbuckled and tossed with equal energy.

"Oh my God." Y/N looked at the camera with wide eyes.

"What is happening?" Nick cackled, practically doubling over, slapping Y/N's arm.

Chris wasn’t done. He walked up to the camera with an intense expression, holding his hands out and touching the screen, acting as if zooming in.

"Enhance." He said, squinting into the lens. Then, as if the camera wasn’t worthy, he spun dramatically on his heel, walked back, and threw off his varsity jacket mid-stride before striking one final pose.

"Now that’s how you do it." Y/N joked, looking at the camera. "Like and subscribe if you want Chris to make a strip tea-"

"Y/N!"

For Y/N's turn, she adjusted her oversized leopard beanie with a dramatic flair and tilted her sunglasses low on her nose, revealing a dead-serious expression underneath. She strutted forward slowly, dragging her stiletto along the ground for added effect. When she reached the camera, she whipped her head to the side, making her orange fluffy sock the star of the moment.

But it didn’t end there. Y/N suddenly crouched down into a deep squat, raising one hand in the air and striking a pose like she was ready to pounce. The boys immediately broke into cheers and laughter.

"Yes, queen!" Nick shouted, jumping in the place and clapping, laughing loudly.

"She nailed it." Matt said with a proud grin, nodding his head.

Y/N slowly stood, turning to the side as if the camera had disappeared, and walked off like nothing had happened.

"Thank you." She said nonchalantly, tossing her hair over her shoulder as the others applauded.

"Alright, I officially retire." Nick said, throwing his arms to the air in a surrender gesture.

"Same." Chris picked up his lobster glove from the floor, grinning.

Matt sighed, smiling at Y/N's figure.

"She’s unbeatable. Let’s not do these challenges anymore if she’s in them."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The scene cut to the next category: Rock Concert. The boys had gathered in front of the camera, each flaunting their edgy outfits.

Chris leaned casually against the wall, dressed in all black with his bandana tied around his head. His sunglasses were perfectly placed, and a Bluetooth speaker hung over his shoulder like a statement piece.

"Clearly, I’m the embodiment of rock concert aesthetic." He said confidently, adjusting his speaker strap.

Nick crossed his arms, giving Chris a side-eye. He was sporting his long-sleeved shirt adorned with skulls and intricate spiderweb patterns paired with black cargo pants and chunky boots.

"Please." Nick retorted. "I’ve got literal death on my shirt. That’s as metal as it gets."

Matt, standing in the middle, smirked. He wore a black leather jacket over a white shirt, complete with a silver skull belt buckle and leather pants that practically screamed rockstar.

"Yeah, but have you seen my belt?" He argued, lifting his white shirt slightly to show it off. "This is peak rock concert material. I even coordinated it with my jacket."

"Okay, but who do you think the crowd would look at first?" Chris challenged. "The guy with the bandana, all black, and sunglasses? Obviously me. The speaker only makes it better."

Nick rolled his eyes.

"You look like you’re trying to be a cool dad sneaking into a concert." He teased.

"Alright, alright." Y/N interrupted from off-screen, stepping into the camera frame and effectively stealing the show.

Y/N’s outfit was on another level. She wore a black 'Bon Jovi' cropped top with silver detailing that matched the chains on her leather mini skirt. Fishnet tights peeked out from under the skirt, leading down to a pair of knee-high combat boots that added an extra edge to the look. To top it off, she wore a cropped leather jacket with studs on the shoulders and accessorized with chunky silver jewelry and a black choker.

The boys fell silent for a second, staring.

Y/N smiled brightly at them before turning to the camera, raising her right arm and making the 'rock and roll' gesture by raising her pinky and index fingers and lowering the others.

"'Cause we all just wanna be big rockstars and live in hilltop houses driving 15 cars..."

"Girl, what the fuck?" Nick widened his eyes, looking from Y/N to the camera with a look that screamed 'are you guys seeing this?'

Matt laughed loudly, recognizing the song from one of the TikTok trends that Y/N had been obsessing over the past few weeks, being quick in imitating her position, and starting singing with her.

"... the girls come easy and the drugs come cheap, we'll all stay skinny 'cause we just won't eat-"

"Okay, that's enough of that." Chris interrupted the pair, gesturing to them while shaking his head in disbelief. "So, Y/N wins."

Nick groaned dramatically.

"Let's take her out right now. I don't wanna play with her anymore."

Matt couldn’t stop smiling.

"Can we just talk about how she’s nailing this? Like, can we get her to join the band we don’t have?"

Y/N laughed, giving a mock bow.

"Thank you, thank you. Now, let's just be clear, I already won." Y/N said with a sly grin, stepping forward. "You'll all lose time if you keep discussing who's the best between you three."

"How can you be so sure?" Chris crossed his arms, carrying a superior instance.

"Because I actually listen to rock." She said, shrugging like it was obvious. "AC/DC, Bon Jovi, Kansas, Asia... should I keep going?"

Nick groaned.

"Okay, that’s true, but it doesn’t count!"

"Doesn’t count?" Y/N repeated, feigning offense. "I think you’ll find that the fact I actually know rock makes me the winner by default." She turned to Chris. "Tell me. Have 'yall even listened to ‘Highway to Hell’ all the way through?"

Chris hesitated, playing with his earphones.

"Uh... I mean." He looked at Nick. "Probably?"

Y/N laughed, shaking her head.

"Thought so." She crossed her arms. "So, I don’t need a skull belt, all-black everything, or death on my chest. I’ve got the actual music taste. Rock is in my veins, boys."

Nick groaned dramatically, throwing his head back.

"She wins. I hate it, but she wins."

"Alright, fine." Chris muttered. "But we still look better."

"Not a chance." Y/N teased, spinning in place again and winking at the camera. "This outfit screams rock goddess."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The boys were now proudly sporting their "Zoom Meeting" outfits. Chris held up his MacBook, Matt adjusted his glasses with a goofy smile, and Nick tugged at his black tie, looking down at his bright heart-shaped boxer shorts with fake professionalism.

"Alright." Chris started, addressing the imaginary Zoom meeting in front of him. "Gentlemen, let’s get to business. As you can see, we’re all clearly dressed to impress."

"Except for Nick." Matt teased, nodding toward his brother's boxer shorts. "The hearts? A little too much, don’t you think?"

Nick scoffed, feigning offense.

"Excuse me, at least I have this tie that says I’m both professional and emotionally available. A winning combo."

Matt rolled his eyes and gestured to his own look.

"Meanwhile, I’ve got balance. Business on top, relaxation on the bottom."

"That’s literally the whole theme." Chris pointed out with a smirk. "You’re not special, Matt."

Y/N watched from her spot leaning against Matt's bathroom door, her legs crossed as she sipped from her mug of coffee that she made while waiting for them to get ready. She was dressed comfortably yet stylishly, rocking an oversized beige knit sweater that draped perfectly off one shoulder, paired with black leggings and fluffy white socks. Her hair was tied up in a loose bun, with a few strands framing her face. Despite the boys' chaotic energy, she was nailing the whole "effortlessly cool" vibe.

"Y/N, you’re way too cozy for a Zoom meeting." Chris said, pointing at her as he adjusted his loose white shirt.

"Well." Y/N said with a playful grin. "Unlike you guys, I know how to mix comfy with class. You all just look ridiculous."

Nick gasped, dramatically clutching the box in his hands.

"Ridiculous? Ridiculous?! Look at this tie! I’m the epitome of professionalism!"

Chris leaned toward Y/N, pointing at Matt.

"What about him? He’s literally in boxer shorts."

Y/N rolled her eyes, sipping from her mug to hide her smile.

"You're all wearing it, dumbass." Her eyes lingered on Matt's red boxer shorts for a moment too long. "It’s really interesting that someone would think boxer shorts are appropriate for a Zoom meeting, actually."

Matt smirked, striking a random pose.

"Are you jealous?"

"No?" She said quickly, shaking her head. "I mean, it’s not like anyone else on the Zoom would see them, right?"

The other two brothers caught on instantly, grinning like Cheshire cats.

"Y/N." Nick teased. "Are you saying you wouldn’t let your Zoom co-workers see your boxers?"

"Nick!" She exclaimed, throwing an exasperated look at him. "That’s not the point!"

Chris chimed in, laughing.

"Yeah, Matt. She’s definitely jealous. She wishes she could wear boxers to a meeting."

"I do not!" Y/N huffed, crossing her arms, though a smile tugged at her lips. "I just... don’t understand why he’d even bother wearing the shirt if he’s just going to go full casual anyway."

"It’s called commitment to the aesthetic." Matt said, walking over to her and placing a hand on her shoulder, discretely squeezing the exposed skin. "Something you clearly wouldn’t understand."

"Oh, I understand commitment." Y/N shot back with a smirk, meeting his eyes momentarily. "But let’s be honest, none of you are winning any awards for those outfits."

"Excuse me?" Nick said, pretending to be outraged. "I’m clearly the winner here."

"Winner?" Chris scoffed. "You’re wearing socks pulled up to your knees, bro. That’s not even close to a win."

Y/N chuckled as she watched them descend into a full argument over who had the best Zoom look, but she couldn’t stop her gaze from flickering back to Matt’s outfit. Something about the casual confidence he exuded - boxers and glasses - had her feeling just a little possessive and turned on.

"Alright." She announced, clapping her hands to get their attention. "If you’re all done arguing, let’s see who can really sell their look with a runway walk."

The boys' faces lit up, and they quickly got into character.

Nick was up first, confidently sliding across the wooden floor in his socks, arms spread wide like a figure skater. As he came to a stop, he reached for his boxer shorts and dramatically lowered them until they hit the ground, shouting a little "Oh!".

Matt immediately yelped.

"Nick!" He yelled before lunging forward to cover Y/N's eyes with both hands.

"Matt! What are you doing?!" Y/N laughed, trying to swat his hands away while Chris doubled over in hysterics.

"Protecting your innocence!" Matt declared, keeping his hands firmly over her face.

Nick, unfazed, quickly pulled his boxers back up and began walking toward the camera with exaggerated confidence, tugging at his tie and making ridiculous faces as though he were a real model.

"You’re unbelievable!" Chris murmured through his laughter, wiping a tear from his eye.

"Well, we've got 2 strippers now-"

"Y/N!"

Nick turned dramatically to face her and winked.

"You’re welcome for the show."

Next, it was Matt’s turn. He walked to the middle of the floor, cracking his knuckles with a sly grin before suddenly dropping to his hands and knees.

"Uh, Matt?" Y/N asked, raising an eyebrow.

"What...?" Nick added, genuinely confused.

Then, without warning, Matt lifted his left leg to the side like a dog at a fire hydrant.

The realization hit everyone at once, recognizing the movement from one of the rounds of DTI that Matt and Chris played, and the room erupted into cheers and laughter.

"That was perfect!" Chris shouted, clapping his hands.

Matt stood up, brushing imaginary dirt off his shirt with a smirk, and walked toward the camera with crossed arms, striking a serious pose like a model in a high-fashion commercial.

"Okay, that was actually cool." Y/N admitted, giggling as he walked back to join them.

When it was Chris’s turn, he shook his head with a grin.

"I’m sitting this one out." He said.

"What? Why?" Nick asked, incredulous.

Chris shrugged.

"I’m already the main event. I’ll let Y/N steal the spotlight this time."

Y/N’s eyebrows shot up.

"Oh, so now I have to go?"

"You got this!" Matt encouraged, nudging her toward the runway.

"Fine." She said, standing up and straightening her oversized sweater dramatically.

Y/N walked off the camera and took the book she'd been reading the past few days from the coffee table, walking back to the frame before delicately putting it on her head like a balancing act. She strutted confidently toward the camera, balancing it all the way, then stopped to pull out her mug, striking a victorious pose before taking a slow, exaggerated sip. The boys erupted in applause.

"You can call me Barbie now." She started, turning to the boys while opening a wide smile before pretending that her hand was a microphone. "On top of the world where I can see everything before me reaching up to touch the sky-"

"Okay, singer girl, pipe down a bit." Nick raised his right hand, exchanging perplexed looks with Chris, who was laughing.

"Okay, she wins." The youngest admitted, shrugging in defeat.

"Unreal." Matt said, looking at her with obvious pride. "You’re way too good at this, Y/N."

"Okay, okay, she wins. No one can top that." Nick nodded at Y/N. "But I think Chris gets second place in this one."

"No, I give you number one." Chris insisted, pointing to Nick while Matt just observed.

"I can't accept that. I'm just happy Matt's wearing his blue light glasses again." Nick's voice turned dramatically high-pitched, clearly imitating the fandom.

Before anyone could react to him, Matt ripped his glasses off of his face, bending it backward until it snapped, small pieces flying everywhere.

"Matt, why would you do that?" Y/N yelled, looking at him with wide eyes and open mouth - just like the other two - before pouting, looking miserably at the shattered pieces. "I liked that one."

"I don't like those stupid jokes." Matt simply replied, looking unfazed at his brothers and Y/N.

Nick and Chris kept looking from Matt to the camera and back, their expressions full of shock.

"You're going to buy another one just like that one, I don't even care." Y/N ordered, crossing her arms and looking directly at Matt, raising her eyebrows as if to say 'dare disobey me.

"Fine." He sighed. "Sorry."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Extra - comments:

"okay but can we talk about matt literally saying ‘I’m off limits’? someone tell me what’s going on here 🤡"

"nick casually calling out matt girls for voting on matt only bc they want to sleep with him had me SCREAMING 😭"

"why was Y/N blushing when matt said he was off limits? I SEE YOU, GIRL!!!!"

"the dynamic between Y/N and matt is giving major dating vibes"

"wait, why does matt always seem to hype Y/N up just a little more than chris and nick? like, we get it, dude. she’s awesome. but tone it down, or we’ll all start connecting dots 🤨"

"as a fellow rock fan, I have to say Y/N listening to AC/DC and bon jovi automatically makes her my fave"

"not Y/N convincing matt with zero effort to do the rockstar trend with her 🤧"

"I’m not saying I ship Y/N and matt... but I also kind of ship Y/N and matt. the way he looked at her with that dress??? man, I know that look"

"matt breaking his glasses and then Y/N ordering him to buy another one and him ACCEPTING IT???? and saying sorry???? omg that's just girl boss right there 🙏🏻"

1K notes · View notes

azrielslittleslut · 2 months ago

Text

Rhys x F!Reader

Lingerie with Rhys (Drabble)

Warnings: NSFW, mostly teasing, mention of pegging if you squint

Word Count: 741

a/n: i don't know how i feel about this one... hope you guys like it!

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

You peeked around the corner of the kitchen wall, your eyes searching the room for your mate. You found him sitting in the chair in front of his brothers, his head bent down over a stack of papers as he discussed only the Mother knows what with them.

Cassian and Azriel were in the chairs closest to the kitchen, their backs to you. You had shielded your scent with your magic, so they didn't know you were there. Even Azriel's nosy shadows would be unable to detect your presence. At least that's what you hoped.

Rhys was lounging in the chair farthest away from where you stood, but he had a perfect view of the kitchen wall where you were.

Perfect. Right where you wanted him.

Rhys had been so busy with High Lord matters recently, and you could see the toll it was taking on him. He never slept or ate, and he barely made the time to make love to you anymore.

You weren't mad at him, of course, but you missed him. You wanted to do something special to take his mind off of his stressors, and you had found the perfect thing while you were shopping earlier today.

You stepped around the wall, just enough to get Rhys's attention. His violet eyes met yours, and he offered you a small, tired smile. He quickly returned his attention to the papers, his mind more than likely making battle plans or creating new trade routes.

Now, that just won't do.

With a smile on your face, you untied the sheer robe around your body, moving it off your shoulders until it hit the ground in a pile of black lace. Beneath it, you wore a new lingerie set of deep purple, one that Rhys hadn't seen before.

The bra had delicate lace cups adorned with crystals that looked like stars. It was completely see-through, and your nipples hardened as they came into contact with the chilly air. The straps were also filled with crystals, sitting perfectly on your shoulders, outlining the collarbones that Rhys loved to mark with hickeys.

The matching panties were also made of purple lace, and it was barely enough material to cover your pussy and ass. Around your stomach, you had tied a purple bow, intending for you to be a present for Rhys to unwrap as a gift for his hard work. You had paired the whole ensemble with a set of shiny black stilettos, the heels lengthening your perfect legs.

You leaned seductively against the wall, arching your back just enough for Rhys to see your ass. Rhys, you said into his mind, your voice a caress. Come to bed.

In a minute, darling. We just need to finish the last few papers. Rhys's mental voice was absolute, giving you no room for argument. But you didn't care. Not when your sleep-and sex-deprived mate was sitting there, the tension in his shoulders so tight you could see it from across the room.

Fine, you murmured. I guess I'll just go enjoy this new lingerie I got by myself.

At that. Rhys's eyes head shot up, his wings twitching as he drank in your body like a glass of water. Darling. You look... fucking amazing.

Now, you could smell the arousal wafting off him, and so could Cass and Az. "Damn, brother," the former grumbled, his nose twitching. "I didn't know paperwork would get you off like that."

Az chuckled. "It's not the paperwork, Cass," he said. "You know that scent blocker doesn't work against my shadows, right?"

Damn that nosy shadowsinger.

"What-" Cassian started, his head turning to look behind him.

Rhys snarled. "If you look behind you, I will rip your fucking head off, Cassian."

Damn baby, you crooned into Rhys's mind. So worked up. Let me make you feel good.

Rhys's jaw twitched, a sign that he was considering the consequences of giving up on the paperwork. He just needed one more thing to persuade him...

I got the dildo we were looking at, you said, already turning around to head back to your bedroom. You know, the one that you said you wanted me to fuck-

You ran as you heard Rhys's chair hit the ground, his feet already carrying him over to you. You laughed as he caught you and winnowed you to the bedroom, ready and willing to see what all you had in store for him tonight.

general tag list: @quiet-loser @andreperez11 @lilah-asteria

@anarchiii @inkedinshadows @book-obsessed124

@scorpioriesling @olive-main @scarsandallaz

Kinktober tag list: @littlest-w01f @fourthwing4ever

@huff-le-puff-puff-pass @halo-hanging @velarisnightsky444 @whyshouldihaveanam3

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #kinktober 2024 #kinktober #rhysand #rhysand smut #rhys acotar #rhys x reader #rhys smut #dee writes

153 notes · View notes

fanfictionismyaddiction · 5 months ago

Text

Concert with a Twist

Word count: 1.2k

Pairing: Toto Wolff x reader

Summary: Y/n eagerly anticipates attending a Taylor Swift concert in Vienna with her husband, Toto Wolff. Their plans are disrupted by the concert's cancellation. Toto arranges a surprise for her.

Warnings: non

One shot Masterlist

Don't be shy to ask me for a One Shot I would be happy to write it.

______________________________________________________________

The anticipation was electric. Y/n had been eagerly counting down the days until Taylor Swift’s concert in Vienna. As a long-time fan of the pop star, the concert was a dream come true. Toto Wolff, her husband, had agreed to join her despite not being particularly interested in the pop star himself. His primary goal was to see Y/n happy, and he had been looking forward to their trip to Vienna, which would also serve as a chance to visit his children, Benedict and Rosa, from his first marriage.

Vienna was a special place for Toto. The trip was intended to be a blend of personal and professional—a visit to Vienna’s historic sites, quality time with family, and a glamorous concert experience.

In the days leading up to the concert, Y/n’s excitement was palpable. She spent hours curating the perfect outfit, envisioning herself amidst the crowd, singing along to her favorite songs. She had chosen a stunning ensemble for the evening: a shimmering silver dress that hugged her figure perfectly, complemented by elegant high-heeled sandals. Her accessories included delicate silver jewelry that sparkled under the light, and she planned to carry a chic clutch that completed her sophisticated look.

The dress was a statement piece, reflecting her love for Taylor Swift’s bold and glamorous style. As she laid out her outfit on the bed, she could almost feel the energy of the concert night. She imagined herself dancing and singing along with thousands of other fans, the music filling the air and the lights creating a magical atmosphere.

Two days before their departure from Monaco, disaster struck. The news shattered their excitement. A credible terror plot targeting the concert venue was uncovered. Authorities canceled the event for security reasons. Y/n’s heart sank as she processed the news; the concert she had been dreaming of was suddenly out of reach.

Toto noticed Y/n’s distress and took her hands in his. "I’m so sorry, Y/n. I know how much this meant to you."

Y/n forced a smile, her eyes misty. "I just can’t believe it. I was so looking forward to this."

Toto, seeing her disappointment, felt a pang of guilt. He had agreed to the trip mainly to support her excitement for the concert, but now that it was canceled, he felt a stronger resolve to make their trip memorable. The Vienna visit was important for him as well, but he knew the concert was a significant part for Y/n.

"How about we still make the most of our time in Vienna?" Toto suggested, trying to sound upbeat. "We can focus on visiting Benedict and Rosa, spending time together, and exploring the city. And we’ll find a way to make it special for you."

Y/n looked at him, her curiosity piqued. "What do you have in mind?"

Toto just smiled mysteriously. "You’ll see. Trust me."

The day of what would have been the concert arrived. Y/n and Toto met up with Benedict and Rosa, who were excited to see them. Benedict and Rosa had always seen Y/n as a good friend and mother figure, and their relationship was warm and affectionate.

They decided to make the most of their time together and explore the city. The morning began with a visit to Schönbrunn Palace. The baroque architecture and meticulously landscaped gardens were breathtaking. Y/n tried to immerse herself in the beauty around her, but the thought of the canceled concert lingered in the back of her mind. Toto, Benedict, and Rosa noticed her occasional distraction and made a concerted effort to keep her spirits high.

"Y/n, look at this!" Benedict called out, pointing to an ornate fountain. "Isn’t it amazing? The craftsmanship is incredible."

Y/n smiled and joined him, appreciating his effort to engage her. "It’s beautiful. I’ve always loved the details in these old structures."

Rosa linked arms with Y/n as they strolled through the gardens. "How about we grab some coffee and cake at a local café? Vienna is famous for its coffee houses, and I know just the place."

Y/n nodded, grateful for the distraction. "That sounds lovely, Rosa. I’d like that."

They spent the afternoon at Café Central, enjoying delicious pastries and rich coffee. The atmosphere was lively, with the hum of conversation and the clinking of porcelain. Y/n felt a bit more at ease, the warmth of the café and the company of Toto’s children providing comfort.

As the day turned to evening, they visited the Prater, Vienna’s famous amusement park. The giant Ferris wheel offered stunning views of the city, and the playful environment helped lift Y/n’s mood further. They laughed and joked, Toto’s arm around Y/n’s shoulders as they strolled through the park.

Throughout the day, Y/n did her best to hide her disappointment about the concert. She didn’t want to dampen the family’s spirits, but Toto knew her well enough to see through her facade. He decided it was time to unveil his surprise.

That evening, Y/n decided to wear her concert outfit, determined to make the best of the situation. As she slipped into her shimmering silver dress and fastened her high-heeled sandals, she felt a glimmer of the excitement she had felt before. She styled her hair in loose waves and put on her silver jewelry, adding a touch of glamour to the night.

Toto had been secretive about his plans, and Y/n’s curiosity grew as he led her through the hotel. When they reached the ballroom of the Hotel, Toto opened the door, and Y/n’s breath caught in her throat.

The room had been transformed into a cozy, elegant space. Soft lighting and a beautifully set table created a romantic ambiance. But what really caught Y/n’s attention was the grand piano in the corner and the microphone stand beside it. A pianist and singer stood ready, their instruments and setup perfectly arranged.

When the first notes of "Love Story" played, Y/n’s eyes widened in surprise. She turned to Toto, her eyes shining. "Toto, what is this?"

Toto smiled, taking her hands. "Since we can’t go to the concert, I brought a bit of the concert to us."

Y/n’s heart swelled with emotion. She was speechless as the singer began to perform heartfelt renditions of Taylor Swift’s hits. The intimate setting and Toto’s thoughtful gesture filled her with overwhelming gratitude and love.

As they sat down to enjoy the music, Y/n couldn’t help but feel a wave of happiness wash over her. She danced with Toto, laughing and singing along to the songs that had been the soundtrack to so many of her moments. The private concert turned into a magical evening, filled with love and joy.

After the performance, Y/n turned to Toto, tears of happiness in her eyes. "This is incredible, Toto. I don’t even know how to thank you."

Toto pulled her close, his voice soft. "Seeing you happy is all the thanks I need."

Y/n, still feeling the magic of the evening, leaned in and kissed him deeply. "You always know how to make everything perfect," she whispered against his lips.

They spent the rest of the night talking, reminiscing, and cherishing their time together. The evening had been a heartfelt gesture that Y/n would remember forever.

As they finally went to bed, Y/n snuggled close to Toto. "Thank you for making this trip so special. I love you."

Toto kissed her forehead. "I love you too, Y/n. And I’ll always do whatever it takes to see you smile."

#fanfiction #reader insert #fanfic #f1 #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #Toto Wolff #Fluff #taylor swift

216 notes · View notes

mxdarling · 1 year ago

Text

[“Hurting you is the last thing I’d do, you know that.”]

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅• •❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

ೃ⁀➷: summary: keito is a great friend of yours, until he fucking kidnaps you out of jealousy.

ೃ⁀➷: Word count: 1349

ೃ⁀➷: Reference/Inspiration: link | link

ೃ⁀➷: Event: [200 followers event]

ೃ⁀➷: ERA: !!

[note:] If there is anything else triggering here that I didn’t list in the warnings section, please tell me. I don’t condone this type of behavior, this is merely just for entertaining purposes and some sort of coping mechanism for me. If you continue to read beyond this point, ignoring my warnings, I am not responsible for your actions from here on out.

[Warnings:] bad oneshot, maybe ooc keito, yandere behavior, reader is terrified at the end, kidnapping, isolation, possessive behavior, jealousy, reader gets drugged, reader gets blindfolded and tied up, tiny fluff, keito owns an apartment for (il)legal reasons (kidnapping reader), implies keito has a vehicle.

[GN reader]

KEITO HASUMI was a dear friend of yours, one you never expected to befriend due to the intimidating and hard-to-approach bearing he carries around with him. You could vividly remember how you would run in the other direction whenever you saw his moss-colored hair from a distance. Keeping your head down low and hiding in places you think he would never think twice to check, and it worked so well, perfectly even. For months, you flew under his radar unnoticed, and you were satisfied with that. You were okay with just barely avoiding him every second of the day. You wouldn't dare wish to change it; unfortunately for you, it seems he isn't too happy with it.

To him, it has now become a duty—a duty to try and find where you're hiding this time. He knows you're avoiding him, and he knows, at least, most of your current hiding spots, yet you always slip away, just out of his grasp. Like a wild goose, a game of cat and mouse, a play of hide and seek, with him being the hunter and you being the prey. As the former captain of the archery club, he commends you for being a challenging and interesting target. It has been a while since he's tested his expertise with a bow; he's confident he hasn't gotten rusty despite graduating from the club a year or so—but he wishes to confirm this by testing out with a new target, and he has the perfect candidate in mind.

Unexpectedly, it took him a little longer to catch up to you with your game of hide-and-seek with him; to say that he's impressed would be an understatement. Accounting for your slip-up in trying to avoid him, you're determined to not make that mistake again, and he's determined to make the most of that slip-up.

Weeks after your slip-up, keito seems to have gotten better at catching you. He was able to predict, most of the time, which hiding spot you would go to, what time you'd go to your hiding spot, and what route you would choose to go to your hiding spot. If he was feeling rather confident, then he would spot you in the crowd and task you to accompany him before you would even think about going there. If he was feeling sneaky, he would hide in your hiding spot before you arrived, startling you when he announced his presence out of nowhere, sometimes even scaring you before you reached your hideout place.

If this was his way of trying to befriend you, somehow, for some reason, it worked, and it worked well. Suddenly, you've just become friends with the person you wanted to hang out with the least. Even your own peers and friends were shocked and surprised to see the two of you talking casually, whether it be in the hallway or after a meeting. It was an unlikely duo—a pair that almost no one would ever suspect would happen. It doesn't help that he shows very clearly that you're the person about whom he worries the most. It's how he goes out of his way to remind you daily of what your schedule is, fixing any wrinkles in your outfit, what to do, where to go, basic needs, and regular rest. Keiko will always be the first one to ask how you have been doing.

With him always lingering around you, not a lot of people approach you since they'll be victims of his judging gaze for the whole interaction with you. He knows this and has a rather efficient method of getting potential suitors away from confessing to you or forming a closer connection with you. Still, there are some who find ways to talk to you despite the warnings they've been given by keito and other people.

He watches as you converse with this acquaintance of yours, who seems to be really, really testing his patience. Do they really have to put their arm around your shoulder? Do they not know that you could possibly be uncomfortable with that gesture being made towards you? How could a mere acquaintance of yours be this physically close to you already? If he wasn't too focused on being composed, then you would see the subtle twitch in his eye and a vein pop on his face. In coherent sentences, rationally, he's currently experiencing the emotion of jealousy. A term used when you feel unhappy or upset that the person you're interested in is paying attention to someone else.

Emotionally, he feels threatened by the introduction of a third party. It was usually just the two of you, him and you. How does someone like them, who you've only known for a few days, steal your attention from him—someone who you've known for months now? Plus, how effortlessly he was able to talk to you—he couldn't even approach you for weeks. He knows logically. Knowing him, he isn't going to sit idle and watch from the sidelines; no, too many seconds have already been wasted—he'll take care of this pesky little problem of his.

The day of your kidnapping was a clean and smooth process, and since there was no longer a wall distancing the two of you, it was a lot easier to plan than if he were to do this several months ago. All went according to plan; no hiccups or delays were made during the time to get you drugged or the time to drive you to his apartment, though in case you ever woke up due to the drug's effects wearing off, he blindfolded and tied both your hands and arms together. Just as a precaution, he didn't want to knock you out too good by overdosing you; he needs to take care of you; you're too helpless to be left alone.

You are shaking, trembling, and quivering; your heart is pumping so loudly that it's hard to hear anything else other than the irregular beats banging at your ear. You didn't even hear the sound of footsteps walking towards the room you're locked in or the door opening very slowly, revealing the culprit of your kidnapping. He stands near the doorway with no evident remorse or guilt for taking you and sealing your life away in this goddamn claustrophobic closet of his.

You took one glance at keito and looked away with fury and fright, the rage and betrayal knowing this was the work of one of your treasured friends and did this to you of all people; afraid and scared knowing he's in a position to commit anything ranging from merciful to downright cruel acts while you're in a vulnerable state. With haste, you drag your body to the farthest corner you could place yourself in, hugging your knees close to your chest, head down. You wish this was all a dream. Closing the door behind him, he takes another set of footsteps towards you—careful not to cause you any further distress. Kneeling down with one knee, he takes your chin and slowly raises your head to face his.

You look at him with overwhelming emotions, so much so that tiny droplets start to form in your eyes. For a moment, you could see a tiny glint of sadness in his eyes, though you aren't sure if you're just seeing things or if he really is saddened by your expression towards him. As an attempt to comfort you, he gently rubs his thumb on your cheeks while also wiping the tears that threaten to roll down past your chin. Swallowing down a lump in your throat, you plead with your best friend.

"P-please.. don't—don't hurt me." Your throat is starting to hurt, and your plea is as loud as silence. Due to his close proximity, he could hear every word you say. In response to your pleas, he cups your cheeks in the palms of his hands and looks at you with his eyes that seem to have softened after seeing your hurt expression.

“Hurting you is the last thing I’d do; you know that.”

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅• •❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

[a/n; um-, i come back from the dead, hellooo. so idk jackshit about keito LOLL god how do people characterized keito bhdhd I WAS STRUGGLING BRO, like fr i'm so scared to mischaracterized characters especially if it's people's fav😭😭 keito stans i hope i did him the justice he deserves!! ALSO PACING MIGHT SUCK?? anywayss, thank you anon for requesting keito with dialogue #19! i haven't visited the enstars community in months LMAOO so i might be a little rusty in my writing about them whoops. also last 2023 work of mine crazyyy bro.]

53 notes · View notes

apocalyp-tech-a · 8 months ago

Text

Remember in Season 1, Episode 1 Aftermath, Tech says "I am merely stating a theoretical hypothesis based on factual data?" Well, that's what I did, I made a "logical conclusion." From Lama Su coming back when we thought he was dead to the infamous "domicile," it was all factual evidence that was meant to push us in a direction of hoping that Tech would return and that CX-2 could be the way he does it. I'm not stupid, and neither are you. There's an underlying reason that I love Tech not based on just his handsome looks. I don't claim to have an exceptional mind like him and I don't intend to convince anyone that CX-2 was Tech, but I do want to explain how it could be construed through the way that character was presented as well as the possibility of Tech's return in general, that he could have been and none of us were wrong or "losers" to think so.

45 70 Reasons and more well on the way, lol...

General reasons:

*Tech is never seen actually dying.

*Hemlock being untrustworthy source of death certificate.

*The return of many thought to be dead characters in past Star Wars from Darth Maul who was sliced in half to Lama Su - the door closed on him and we thought he was getting shot by troopers only to show up alive later and this happened in The Bad Batch itself.

*CX-2 is shown walking toward the 'light' after dropping off Omega, symbolically toward a future redemption. @astrovoidy

*Height change on starwars.com

*The word 'dead' danced around on official sites and by BB employees

*the similarities to Winter soldier @on-a-quest

*the cryptic tweets that showcased reborn characters like Gandalf

*The official poster of CX-2 shows him in 'good' light. @eriexplosion AND CX-2 is shown looking up and to the side the way the original CF99 members are positioned and facing in their poster as if CX-2 is also a CF99 member

*other people in professional settings like New Rock Stars on youtube thought the same exact thing as well as casual viewers

*the large focus on CX-2, over multiple episodes

*misleading title of last episode "The Cavalry Has Arrived"

*Tech being smart enough to find a solution

*If Season 2 could be compared to Empire Strikes Back, Tech was taken from us the way Han Solo was, but Han Solo was returned so surely Tech would be as well

*no one expected a main ensemble character permadeath

*the fight with Crosshair music had hints of "Plan 99" in it

*Tech’s whole big conversation with Romar was about culture and memory, and he helped Romar restoring a data repository. Between the implication that Tech would have lost his memories and Phee saying, “Tech’s brain was the databank, not mine,” you could easily see that as foreshadowing for Tech getting his memories back. @heyclickadee

*All the little one line reminders and goggles shots up through episode twelve only serve to make the audience want Tech back. They aren’t closure, they’re reminders of his absence. [Tech never being quite mourned.] @heyclickadee

*The goggles are lit, or look like they’re lit, in every scene they’re in except the last one, which sure makes all those earlier shots deliberate. @heyclickadee *CX-2 could have killed all of them at different moments, but chose not to (shooting pilot instead of Hunter for example)

Physical and character similarities:

*the shrimp posture

*the kick in the fight similar to droid kick in S1E1

*the similar hand to hand combat style

*the shooting accuracy- ipsium cave/ plan 99

*the elegant deliberate movement especially of hands and fingers

*the animated head and body when speaking

*the helmet – even has his hairline @jorolle

*the viewfinder similar to Tech's and utilized just as often

*the pouches(!!!)

*the limberness and agility

*the confident capability

*the crouching/getting on one knee - Tech is an infamous croucher!

*the deviant nature – ignoring orders

*the technology know how

*the flying – some say the turn on Teth was a Tech Turn

*the extraness of tool/weapon twirl

*armpad like Tech's datapad @wolveria

*CX-2's ship has similarities to the Marauder @wolveria

*Tech CC-9902 / CX-2 - both end in 2 @wolveria

*We are reminded this season that Tech was especially good at decryption. What do we see CX-2 doing on Phee’s ship? Yeah. @heyclickadee

*Season two went out of its way to establish that Tech has a high pain tolerance, is a good close range fighter (he won a life-or-death fight with a guy when he had that broken femur), quick processing speed, and is an excellent shot. All skills we see CX-2 exhibit. @heyclickadee

The 'British' accent, speech inflection, pronunciation. and vocabulary (this alone is enough to convince anyone...):

'You better get back HERE." - "I know the girl is HERE."

"The fifth IS Omega." - "The girl IS alive."

"Who are you?" - "Who are you?"

"Naveecomputah." - "Neveecomputah."

"DOMICILE." - "DOMICLE."

Cinematic framing similarities:

*the limping

*the coming out of the water @lilacjunimo

*hooking the rappel hook rappelling down was like dangling off the rail car

*the boulder moving

*helmet viewpoint from CX-2 in finale, only BB members ever had that

Conjectural situations of suspicion:

*the beef with Crosshair

*the constant surviving

*the pausing when choking Crosshair

*the pausing to look at Phee

*The implications that Crosshair seems to know something about CX-2 (he wants to get out of dodge when he knows CX-2 is coming), and the intense lingering guilt Crosshair feels—and which is never dealt with! It’s still there through the finale—implying he knows or suspects it’s Tech. @heyclickadee

*“Whatever they did to you, whatever you’ve done, you’re still one of us,” offered by Rex towards the CXs @heyclickadee

*Crosshair’s character arc this season being partly about realizing that anyone can change and that no one is really beyond saving, which would have continued going somewhere if he thought CX-2 was Tech and considered him beyond saving, but then changed his mind and realized he needed to try. Notice that he does not engage CX-2 in 11 like he did in 7, and that this comes after his revelation about giving people a chance in 9. @heyclickadee

*CX-2 is even more Tech like in 11 than he was in 6 and 7. This implies that he could be starting to wake up, and that almost killing Crosshair triggered that. He doesn’t kill anyone except one of his own guys on Pabu (or Phee) even though it would make his job much easier. He even has Hunter and Wrecker in his sights and moves his aim to not shoot them directly. @heyclickadee

*Crosshair has no way to know that the CX’d clones come out different and that their identities are erased unless it happened to someone we know. In fact, there’s not reason for the CX plot to exist unless that horrific thing happens to someone we know. @heyclickadee

*The first episode of the show starts out with Hunter covering for someone who supposedly died in a fall. In fact, there are direct parallels in the lines: “Where’s the Jedi?” “I stunned him when he jumped. He didn’t make it.” vs “Where’s Tech?” “Omega…Tech didn’t make it.” I’m not saying Hunter was covering for Tech; I am saying that is the only place in the script where we see those phrases matched up. @heyclickadee

*Tech being CX-2 would have fit in perfectly with each member of the batch experiencing a traumatic loss (and regaining) of agency that correlated directly to who and how they are as people. @heyclickadee

Foreshadowing lines:

*More machine than man, percentage wise at least.

*Better late than dead.

*See you around, Brown Eyes.

*Tech's not gone.

*The operative's gone rogue.

*Romar saying he's a survivor and Tech's look at him.

*Don't go running off with any pirates or smugglers. @heyclickadee

Abandoned storyline reasons:

*The romance with Phee, surely it wouldn't be abandoned!? 🙄😡

*CX-2's death being anticlimactic

*The finale seeming rushed and incomplete

*Actors saying there were script changes

*CX-2's accent in the finale was not only not like Tech's as it was in previous episodes, it wasn't even a clone accent (wtf was that) signaling a script change

@wolveria made a great analysis here with her Tech-Genda !

@heyclickadee gave a great analysis here and also great evidence, more in comments!

@vivaislenska has a list as well with some of these points!

@eriexplosion has a great analysis here!

Having said that, here are some reasons it may not have been him:

*Too many characters coming back from the dead.

*The way he says 'clones' in Infiltration was more reg accent.

*Tech's line in the cave to Omega which "was a big one to me” in retrospect: "I am aware that you miss him, but we have to adapt and move on."

As for the intentions of the writers to either have been forced to change the script, but can't admit it due to NDAs or if they truly meant for CX-2 to be Crosshair's foil which to me was unclear, especially with all of the evidence above, I don't know. At least they could have made CX-2 talk and move like a reg. Making him talk and walk like Tech was kind of cruel on top of a cruel we already experienced in Plan 99. I am not personally attacking the writers, I still love Season 1 and 2 and most of Season 3, but I wish I knew what happened behind the scenes with this and I know I'm not the only one. I think this is the last time I'll personally address Season 3 or the finale unless to support other commentators/creators and for my own fix-it and art and writing. And I look forward to seeing everyone else's works as well and hope no one gives up this beautiful Batch or fandom as I almost did. Canon seems done with him, he belongs to us now. 💜

And if anyone has anything I missed (I'm sure I'll think of more myself), feel free to comment or reblog with that addition or a link to your own post and/or I can edit the OP to include it and tag you. Also, don't feel like you can't make your own post about this subject! But I do hope this maybe helped anyone still dealing with the 'aftermath' like me, to know you're not alone, and you did not read too much into it.

(In retrospect, I can't believe they killed him though, lol. What the kriff were they thinking!?! #too handsome to die #too awesome to die)

#tbb spoilers #the bad batch spoilers #star wars #the bad batch #cx-2 #tech the bad batch #tech tbb #tbb #analysis #the bad batch season 3 #TECH LIVES!#DOMICILE y'all!!! what the kriff...

214 notes · View notes

raven-at-the-writing-desk · 8 months ago

Text

tapis rouge groovies + new rhythmic/twistune ✨

***Spoilers below the cut!!***

Ooooh!! As usual, Vil is striking a model-esque pose and showing off not only his own looks, but the best aspects of the ensemble he’s wearing. (If his outfit looks different than how you remembered, it's because Vil gets new sleeves and a cape added on in part 4:)

I like how the lights behind him and on his face are so bright, yet the shot is framed darkly since we’re looking from his shadowed side. It makes Vil look so mysterious!!

He’s holding up a black piece of cloth that seems to glitter; I believe this is “Black of Night”, the signature color of the high fashion house, Luxe, that prepared his and the other NRC boys’ customized outfits. (The name of the color is a reference to an ingredient in the potion the Evil Queen makes to turn into an old lady.) It’s iconic, and only Luxe knows the secrets behind achieving the color of this dye. Many celebrities wear certain brands on the red carpet as free advertisement for the brands they wear, so this makes sense for Vil to be doing as well.

JAMIL 😳 I feel like both he and Azul are helped out a lot by moving in their outfits; the in-game models are a little too stiff-looking to fully convey the elegance of these particular looks. Jamil’s braids are so pretty here, they flow in the wind with such grace!! His expression is also nice, he’s giving the camera a cheeky little smirk from the side…

The shot’s composition is pretty interesting too! Jamil sort of has his arms spread out and his back revealed, and Vil, in front of him, is blocked out by an onlooker/reporter’s elbow. It gives off the impression of Jamil both showing off his coat while also playing bodyguard to Vil. Jamil is a trained bodyguard and can be protective, so… very fitting! Even moreso since Jamil was the card paired with Vil on the limited banner.

Another outfit helped by movement!! You can see how the tailcoats trail behind him and how his jacket’s wide sleeves actually pull/bunch back to allow the green sleeves of his undershirt come out. The light being so prominent on him also highlights his golden frames very well; it’s usually hard to spot small details like this from the model itself so I’m glad we can better appreciate it here!

I love how Azul is soaking up the attention and making the most of it (as opposed to Jamil, who seems to be playing it cool and serious). Smiling and winking for the crowd… Azul stans eating good www He’s even in his usual “poor unfortunate soul, please allow me to assist you” pose 😂 Reeeeeally trying to paint himself in rbe most flattering way possible, eh??

We can see Vil’s head and Jamil’s pants + shoes here. Vil’s the SSR and the star of the show so of course he won’t be left out! Jamil is the other card on the banner that goes with Vil. You can tell it’s Jamil because of the long coat and baggy pants; his shoes are white but appear darker in this illustration probably because of the shadow over them. Ace is not high enough in rarity to cameo in other Groovies/j

Note: Ace is the R card, so his illustration does not change significantly. A shame, really. I like his look the best in this batch 😔 It would have been fun to see what an interpretation on an Ace Groovy would have been!

There is a second rhythmic/twistune that features Vil and co. strutting down the red carpet! There are many cute details in it, such as Vil interacting with his fans by taking selfies with them, giving his signature, and speaking with a reporter.

Jamil and Azul play their parts as "huntsmen" to the Fairest Queen by bringing Vil boxes akin to the one that was meant to contain Snow White's heart.

When Jamil presents Vil with the first box, Vil pulls out his poison apple luxury bag. Then a fog of green covers the screen and when it fades away, Vil is in his new sleeves and cape combo.

Here he is, posing glamorously for the camera! The others do their best to show him off too. (fhbalifiyabifeab Azul is really doing his best to present Vil...)

At the very end, Azul and Ace step up to help Vil with final makeup touch-ups. Jamil seems to spritz him with some perfume too! Then Vil finally ascends to his rightful place up high!! Such a triumphant ending for a super fun rhythmic 🥺

#twisted wonderland #twst #Azul Ashengrotto #Vil Schoenheit #Ace Trappola #Jamil Viper #groovy spoilers #tapis rouge in the shaftlands spoilers #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #notes from the writing raven #Evil Queen

195 notes · View notes

monomyth-scribbles · 5 months ago

Text

A Walk Would Be Nice

Zhongli × Female Reader. One Shot. Zhongli proposes that you take him on a date, but he clearly has other things in mind. Zhongli is in his chunky dragon form (inspired by my obsession with his exuvia plushie). Mostly fluff and humour, with just a hint of implied smut.

You’re nice and relaxed on the couch when you feel a soft kiss pressed against your cheek. A familiar, deep voice rumbles into your ear. “Welcome home, darling. Did you have a good day at work?”

You turn to look into your Zhongli’s warm, amber eyes. “I did, actually. How was your day?” You return his kiss with a quick peck to his nose.

“Would’ve been better with you,” Zhongli chuckles, smooth-tongued as always. “Director Hu was a… handful, as always, but nothing I couldn’t handle.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, dear. Maybe we should go on a date? Lift your spirits a bit?” You ask, taking Zhongli’s gloved hand in your own and giving it a firm squeeze. When you lift his knuckles to your lips, your heart flutters as your husband’s eyes crinkle into a smile.

“A walk would be nice,” he concedes. “Would you like to take me on a walk, darling?”

“Of course, my love. Give me five minutes to get changed, okay? Where do you want to go?”

“The stars over the harbour were exceptionally beautiful on my way home. We should see them together.”

“Alright! Sounds like a plan. Be right back!” You make a beeline for your shared bedroom, excited for your date with Zhongli. Having been bogged down by countless commissions over the past weeks, it seems as if you’ve barely spent any time with him recently. And although your husband is an infinitely patient and gracious man, distance has only sharpened the pangs of yearning in your heart. You know that Zhongli feels the same.

You pick out an outfit that Zhongli bought for you on your third anniversary. His taste was flawless as always, the blouse and skirt ensemble effortlessly chic. He’d made sure that the outfit was made with lightweight silk in your favourite colour. But because this was Zhongli you were speaking of, the clothing was also delicately embroidered with intricate patterns, the hand-stitched threads imitating the geometric designs favoured by the former Lord of Geo. You twirl in your outfit, feeling exceptionally beautiful in your finery, giddy with excitement as you anticipate Zhongli’s approval and appreciation.

“Honey I’m ready!” You burst out of your bedroom and give another twirl. “Shall we—” You scan the room, seeking out your husband. “Zhongli…?”

A small head crowned with a magnificent mane and vivid yellow horns peeks out. You watch in stunned silence as a perfectly lap-sized dragon drapes itself along the back of the couch. “You look gorgeous, darling. Lovelier than usual, were that even possible.”

Your eyes follow the dragon’s tail as it lazily sways back and forth. “Zhongli, I thought we were going for a walk,” You manage. Finally coming to your senses, you primly seat yourself and see Zhongli’s usual robes neatly folded beside you.

Your husband’s deep voice sounds strange coming from a tiny dragon’s body. “To be precise, darling, I did ask you to take me for a walk.”

“I’m not putting you on a leash,” you interject hastily. Unhelpful memories suddenly surface in your mind and your face feels exceptionally warm. “Uh… Not today, anyway. And certainly not in public.”

“We can save the leash for another time,” Zhongli moves from his perch, curling up in your lap. “I was thinking you could carry me around the Harbour. What say you, hm?”

“What’s gotten into you today?” You huff, although you watch your own hand start to stroke his sinuous body, his scales cool to the touch. It feels… nice, you think.

“Well,” Zhongli chuckles, pushing his head into your hand, eagerly seeking out your touch. His tail coils around your arm, the fluffy end reaching up to affectionately tickle your cheek. “When a husband misses his wife, he is allowed to make… ah, bolder requests of her, is he not?”

“Not this bold,” you mutter. Your hand doesn’t stop its path up and down his back, carefully avoiding the amber scutes in its path. Inwardly, you curse your husband’s intimate knowledge of your weaknesses. Zhongli knows all too well that you find his miniature dragon form absolutely adorable. He knows that there is nothing you would deny him when he turns himself into a chubby noodle. The God of Contracts knows how to press his advantage, and he was never above playing a little dirty.

Zhongli rests one paw on top of your other hand, the slightly rough texture of his paw pad causing pleasant friction against your skin as he strokes you. “Nothing would make me happier than to spend time with you like this.”

“Alright… fine. Fine.” You narrow your eyes at Zhongli as he stands on his hind legs, paws reaching out for you as you move to pick him up. You sway his body from side to side, teasing him. “You are one extremely spoiled dragon, you know that?”

“My only defence is that my wife takes wonderful care of me.”

Ugh. How smug. You cradle him against your chest and depart for the harbour.

☆☆☆☆☆

Zhongli is right: the stars are marvellously bright this evening. Pinpricks of light adorn the deep blue blanket of the night sky, sparkling like the priceless gems sold at Mingxing Jewellery. You chuckle as you recall Zhongli’s fondness for all manner of precious treasures.

You take a familiar path along Feiyun Slope, your ears picking up the gentle sloshing of the water down at the harbour below. Around you, the city slowly comes alive with chatter as the heat of the late afternoon sun cools and people begin to pursue hard-earned leisure after a long day’s work. You take the steps between Xinyue Kiosk and Liuli Pavillion, peeking over Zhongli in your arms as your feet carefully find their way down.

Every so often, Zhongli snuggles further into your chest, or nuzzles your neck. “You’re very distracting, my love.” You chide, using the palm of your hand to gently push him away from your face. “I thought you were supposed to be pretending to be a dragon plushie. You’re going to give the game away.”

Zhongli just makes a sound of contentment against you. “The city is too busy at this time of day to pay close attention to us, darling.” Then his long tongue playfully flicks your ear.

“Zhongli!” You whisper urgently, jostling him in retaliation.

Hmph! You think. You flick your dragon husband’s forehead, but all that brings you is the deep rumble of laughter. “Do that again,” he teases. “I could barely feel it through my scales.”

You’re almost at the water’s edge when you hear someone call your name. Turning, you see Hu Tao waving at you from the distance, grinning widely. Feeling just a bit disappointed at the disruption of your date, you nevertheless plaster a matching grin on your face and make your way to Hu Tao.

You don’t know the director of Wangsheng Funeral Parlour too well, but she’s made your acquaintance thanks to Zhongli. He’d warned you about how… nosy his employer could be, and anticipating her prying into his private life, had introduced you early on as his wife.

“How are you doing, Director Hu?” You ask, a polite smile stiff on your face.

Hu Tao waves off your greeting. “Don’t be so formal with me! I’m not your boss, am I?” Her eyes move to rest on the fat brown lizard in your arm. “Oh my, that’s an adorable plushie isn’t it?”

You panic and take a hasty step back, clutching Zhongli even closer. “Don’t mind me, Director Hu. Zhongli just won this for me from the arcade. I’m… uh… I’m very attached to it, you see.”

Bringing up Zhongli’s name successfully diverts Hu Tao’s attention. She looks behind you, as if expecting to see your husband hiding in your shadow. “You’re here with Mr Zhongli, are you? Where is he?”

You feel Zhongli squirm in your arms, and you tighten your grip around him in warning. “Ah, he’s… gone to get us some tea. I told him I was feeling rather parched.”

Hu Tao chuckles, clearly amused at the mental image of Zhongli spoiling you. “I never knew our good consultant to be such a doting husband. He’s always so reserved and formal at work, you know? Stiff, almost.”

At Hu Tao’s words, you feel something soft brushing against your knee. You tense as you realise Zhongli’s tail is creeping up your skirt. You step closer to Hu Tao, trying to prevent her from glimpsing Zhongli’s wayward tail. She quirks an eyebrow at your proximity while you babble to distract her.

“I do apologise for my husband’s behaviour, Director Hu. He’s rather set in his ways, bless him. I hope he hasn’t caused you any trouble at—” You grit your teeth when you feel his tail lift a corner of your skirt, the thick fur at the end tickling and caressing your thigh. “—at work recently.”

“Are you alright? You’ve got such a severe frown on your face.”

“Oh, I’m alright, I just—” You bite your lip as you feel Zhongli’s tail slowly slide between your thighs, the thick fur at its end tickling and teasing you. “I just can’t believe he’s taking so long. He’s not a neglectful man. Usually. Anyway! It was nice meeting you, Director Hu! I’ll catch up with you again sometime. Please tell me if Zhongli causes you any trouble!”

You hurriedly stride away, heading for a quiet corner of the harbour and as far away from prying eyes as possible.

“Zhongli!” You hiss, holding him under his arms and lifting him away from you. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Giving my beloved wife some much-needed attention,” he responds smoothly, his tail reaching for you once again. “I must make up for my past neglect,” he adds, in a tone that feigns regret. You snort, but your hands are occupied with holding him up and can’t stop his tail from causing further mischief.

“Not in public, Zhongli!”

“Hold me closer, darling,” Zhongli purrs. “It is a cold night out… and I’ve left my garments at home.”

You grudgingly hold him close again, rolling your eyes when you feel his tail slip under your skirt again. “For the love of Celestia, Zhongli, you’re not going to make me flash the entire harbour, are you?”

“I would never,” Zhongli responds, bringing his snout close to your face. His voice is a dangerous purr: “All dragons are protective of their treasure, and I am especially protective of mine.”

Damn it, you sigh, exasperated. This is what happens when your husband has had six thousand years to practise his lines. “I wish you’d just told me you wanted to stay home.” You grumble, gripping him tightly with one hand while you try to grasp his tail with the other. A childish game ensues, with Zhongli delightedly flicking his tail out of reach as your arm flails in a futile attempt to catch him.

“I didn’t want to stay home,” Zhongli says. You can’t see his face, but you wonder if he’s pouting. “I wanted my wife to see the stars.”

“Your tail is working harder than your eyes!” You retort. You let out a sigh of relief when Zhongli finally places his tail in the palm of your hand. “Have you had enough of teasing me yet, you incorrigible beast?”

“I’ve barely teased you,” Zhongli laughs. “Were you looking forward to more? Hm?”

“I…”

“Won’t you answer me, my wife?”

This is what I get for marrying the God of Contracts, you complain to yourself. Ruthless negotiator, driver of hard bargains, all around merciless god…

But when your grip on his tail loosens, and when you allow his tail to slip under your skirt again with not a single word of complaint, Zhongli hears your answer loud and clear.

“If you’ve had enough of the stars tonight, darling…” Zhongli’s voice trails off as his tail brushes the front of your undergarments, raising goosebumps on sensitive skin. It seems your dear husband is just as distracted as you are. “You should take me home. It is so bitterly cold out, and I know just how to warm you up.”

“It’s… it��s not cold out tonight at all…” You mutter, though your mind is far, far away from boring discussions of the weather.

“Indulge me,” Zhongli whispers, snuggling even closer to you.

And you do.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin x you #zhongli x reader #zhongli x you #zhongli x female reader #zhongli x y/n

139 notes · View notes

florawrites-blog · 1 month ago

Text

Yunha kang core - enhypen

Enha 8th fem!member moment Im trying a new writing vibe hope you like it and not find it confusing

#Scene 1

ENHYPEN’s latest en-log vlog, shot in the bustling streets of New York City. The members are casually walking, soaking in the energy of the city. As they laugh and chat, the camera cuts to Yunha, walking slightly ahead of them, dressed in an extravagant fur ensemble, head-to-toe—strikingly confident.

Protestors (off-screen, chanting): “Stop wearing fur! It’s cruel and unethical!”

The noise grows louder as the group passes a group of animal rights protesters holding signs. The camera briefly captures the scene of passionate activists, but then quickly pans back to Yunha, who is completely unfazed. She strides down the sidewalk like it’s her runway, the fur coat flowing dramatically in the wind. Her sunglasses glint in the sunlight, and her face shows nothing but cool indifference. As if she’s the star in her own movie, she flips her hair slightly, continuing to serve looks, the protestors’ chants fading into the background.

In the next cut, the ENHYPEN members are shown looking at each other, mildly impressed with Yunha’s ability to remain unbothered, even in such an intense situation. A few of them share a knowing smirk, but Yunha keeps walking, not even acknowledging the chaos around her.

comment section:

@jay#needthat: "Yunha SERVING in the fur coat while the protestors are losing it 😂 she’s unbothered and I love it. Absolute icon energy."

@sunghoonswife: "Who else watched this moment like 10 times??? She legit slayed so hard, not even the protests could stop her 🔥"

@nikipullup: "Yunha walking through those protests like a BOSS 😩✨ The way she pays them no mind is giving 'I do what I want' vibes, queen behavior fr."

@jakelostbakery:

"Umm so we just gonna ignore how the editors didn't even bother to cut off yunha walking with fur while protests are going on LOLLL."

#Scene 2

In the latest Weverse video, Jake posts a funny moment from the group's downtime in the kitchen. The video starts with a casual shot of Yunha brewing coffee, her expression calm and focused as she moves about the kitchen. The rich aroma fills the room, and it’s clear she’s in her zone.

Cue Ni-ki, lurking in the background with a mischievous grin on his face. He sneaks up behind Yunha, clearly trying to scare her. The camera zooms in as he prepares to jump and startle her, but the moment he makes his move…

Yunha, completely unphased, calmly turns to him mid-pour and says: “Want some coffee?”

Ni-ki freezes, his attempt at scaring her falling flat. His expression quickly turns from confident to defeated as Yunha casually offers him a cup, not even batting an eye at his antics.

Ni-ki (frustrated, sighing): "Ugh, You RUINED it!"

Jake and Sunghoon, who had been watching from the side, burst into uncontrollable laughter, doubling over at how easily Yunha brushed off Ni-ki’s attempt. Their laughter echoes through the room, while Ni-ki crosses his arms, still visibly annoyed.

Ni-ki (grumbling as he sips the coffee): "high key you guys suck"

The video ends with Jake and Sunghoon still chuckling in the background, while Yunha continues making her coffee like nothing happened, embodying her trademark unbothered energy.

#Scene 3

The final day of the tour held a bittersweet atmosphere, and after 401 days of constant performances, emotions were running high. Enhypen stood under the glowing stage lights, basking in the overwhelming love from the fans one last time. As the members grew emotional, tears started to slip down their cheeks, a mix of exhaustion and gratitude catching up with them.

On the opposite side of the stage, Yunha was busy collecting plushies and gifts tossed from the crowd, her laughter ringing out as she playfully waved at fans. Her bright, carefree smile seemed oblivious to the emotional wave hitting the others. The members couldn’t help but look over at her, sharing a quiet moment of pride and affection, their hearts warming at how effortlessly Yunha could lift the mood—even if she didn’t know she was doing it.

One by one, they stole glances at her, some even cracking small smiles through their tears. It was like she carried a little light of her own, a reminder of how much they’d shared and how far they’d come together.

#Scene 4

At the Prada show for the upcoming 25 campaign, the spotlight was on Enhypen as they were interviewed about their roles and recent projects. Amid the chatter, one of Prada’s biggest ambassadors—a model known for his charm—seemed fixated on Yunha, his flirty remarks and lingering glances impossible to miss. Each Enhypen member caught on immediately, exchanging amused looks as they watched this unfold. Meanwhile, Yunha was blissfully unaware of the subtle tension, happily answering questions and laughing along.

Then, with her signature bright smile, she threw out a line that left everyone—her members, the model, and the fans—stunned: “Oh yeah, he’s my new Prada brother!” The room went silent for a beat, with her members barely stifling their laughter. As soon as the interview was published, fans erupted, laughing themselves silly over Yunha’s unintentional yet legendary move. She hadn’t just friend-zoned the guy; she’d brother-zoned him, officially sealing his fate as “Yunha’s Prada brother.” Fans couldn’t get enough of it, loving her innocent charm and completely oblivious reactions.

57 notes · View notes

alwaysmicado · 10 months ago

Text

save your tears

4.6k | 18+ MDNI | Dieter Bravo x f!reader

Warnings: dubcon (sex while high), alcohol & drugs, unprotected piv, rough sex, choking, loss of virginity, mention of blood, degradation/praise, hurt no comfort, mean!Dieter Summary: It’s your lucky night! Your favorite movie star, Dieter Bravo, picks you up at a club and takes you home. You don’t want to blow it by telling him you’re a virgin, do you? A/N: Never meet your heroes...and please don’t fuck Dieter Bravo raw without seeing a notarized STD test first. I’m super excited to share this fic with you and I really hope you’ll enjoy it!! Let me know your thoughts! ♥︎

Dieter Bravo masterlist ♡ main masterlist

Another kiss with a stranger, another fiery shot of tequila, another night immersed in the opulence of a luxurious club in the heart of Beverly Hills.

The pulsating beat of the music reverberates through the venue, drowning out any coherent thought. A sea of bodies sways in a synchronized rhythm, lost in the intoxication of the music, the free-flowing drinks, and the swirling lights.

You and your friends are no exception, caught up in the vibrant chaos of the dance floor, laughing and moving to the infectious energy of the night.

The tight dress you’ve chosen for the night clings to your every curve, a sleek fabric that accentuates the enticing contours of your body. Its deep, midnight black hue embraces you like a second skin, tracing the delicate curve of your breasts, descending sensuously over your torso, and accentuating the gentle swell of your hips.

As you move, the straps, delicate and barely there, become ethereal threads, caressing your skin with each sway and twirl on the dance floor. The dress’s neckline is daring, a subtle plunge that hints at mystery and allure, inviting the eyes to linger for just a moment longer.

Your choice of footwear is equally as captivating. The heels, sleek and strappy, elevate your posture and add a tantalizing sway to your every step. The ensemble not only looks exquisite but feels like a second skin. In this carefully chosen outfit, you feel an undeniable sense of confidence and allure – you feel like a goddess.

As the night progresses, and a few shots later, you find yourself losing inhibitions with each beat. The alcohol warms your veins, and the euphoria of the moment takes over. The atmosphere inside the club is charged with excitement, the air thick with the scent of perfume, sweat, and anticipation.

And then you see him.

Amidst the crowd, your gaze collides with a pair of intense, dark eyes that seem to cut through the chaotic haze. Recognition strikes you like a bolt of lightning – Dieter Bravo, the famous Oscar winner, stands at the fringes of the dance floor, his gaze fixed on you.

The look in his eyes is predatory, stirring desire deep within you. He gestures with a subtle nod of his head towards the exit, a silent command that sends your heart racing.

You excuse yourself to your friends, your words lost in the overwhelming discord of music and laughter. They barely register your departure, the night unfolding in a blur of colors and sound. The crisp air outside is a welcome contrast, a momentary escape from the heated chaos within.

You take a deep breath.

Before you know what’s happening, a strong pair of hands seizes you, pushing you against the cold exterior wall of the club. It’s Dieter, his eyes burning with desire as he takes in the sight of you. His words come out in a low, husky whisper that sends shivers down your spine.

“You’re so beautiful, baby, I couldn’t take my eyes off you,” he confesses, his breath hot against your ear. You’re trembling slightly as he pulls back a little to look into your eyes, one hand planted on the wall next to your head, the other gently cupping your hot cheek. His touch sends a jolt through your entire being and your skin tingles beneath his fingertips.

“Why don’t we take this party to a more private setting, hm? My place is just around the corner,” he murmurs, his gaze searching yours for a sign of rejection.

His proposition hangs in the air, a surreal moment that seems too fantastical to be real. Dieter Bravo, a man renowned for having his pick of any woman he desires, wants you to come home with him?

You hesitate for a fleeting moment, the thrill and exhilaration of the unexpected encounter mingling with a feeling of unease. Is this a good idea?

Oh, fuck it.

With a breathless nod, you give in to the magnetic pull of his desire. You’re never gonna get a chance like this again in your life.

Dieter’s eyes flicker with satisfaction at your willingness and a self-assured smirk plays on his lips. “Smart choice, beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice low and seductive, intertwining with the rhythm of the music coming from inside.

With a confident yet gentle touch, he guides you to his waiting car, his warm palm resting on the small of your back.

His driver awaits, a stoic figure leaning against the passenger door with crossed arms, well-acquainted with the routine of escorting the renowned womanizer and his conquests. The man looks a few years older than Dieter, and as you approach, you can’t help but ponder the untold tales and silent observations this seasoned driver must harbor as living witness to the enigmatic world of his famous boss.

Dieter leans in to whisper something into the driver’s ear, a private exchange that ends with a wink and a grin directed at you. With a confident saunter, he rounds the car, slipping into the back seat from the other side.

“Good evening, Miss,” the driver greets you with a practiced courtesy, opening the back door and gesturing for you to step inside. In that fleeting moment, as he meets your gaze, you detect a subtle flicker of concern in his eyes, swiftly masked before you fully register its presence.

You swiftly dismiss the uneasy feeling that briefly fluttered within you and gracefully slide into the luxurious car, taking the seat beside Dieter. The plush interior envelops you, a cocoon of opulence that showcases the movie star’s wealth. As the door closes with a muted thud, the insulating quiet of the vehicle amplifies your anticipation.

The car ride is a blur of sensations.

Dieter pulls you onto his lap, his lips finding yours in a fervent kiss. His hands explore the contours of your body, a mix of escalating desire and urgency palpable in every touch.

Glancing at the rearview mirror, the driver is a silent witness to a scene that unfolds with unsettling familiarity. Dieter’s reputation as a notorious womanizer is well-known, but the silent driver remains impassive, steering the car towards your destination.

“Fuck, baby,” Dieter whispers against your lips, his erection straining painfully against his pants. “You wanna sit on my cock right here or wait ‘til we’re home?”

You sensuously roll your hips, and he responds by squeezing your ass, a deep, guttural groan escaping his lips at the tantalizing friction.

“I want you to take me in your bed,” you purr, as the champagne and tequila flowing through your veins embolden you.

“Alright, beautiful,” he murmurs between sloppy kisses to your neck and jaw, his hand tracing the delicate skin of your shoulder before sliding down the strap of your dress with practiced ease. “I’ll give you anything you want.”

Every word Dieter utters, every caress of his hands, the heady scent of his cologne—the fact that your idol, a man larger than life, is currently drunk off your beauty—adds fuel to the intoxicating fire that courses through your body, making you acutely aware of the pulsating ache and growing wetness between your thighs.

You’ve never wanted to fuck anyone this badly.

Dieter slides down the other strap of your dress, the fabric yielding to his touch as he pulls it down, leaving it to pool around your waist and revealing your naked chest.

“Goddamn, your tits are perfect,” he whispers in awe, his hands tracing a delicate path from your shoulders down to your breasts, cupping one in each hand. “I almost forgot how good real ones feel.”

Your smile widens in response to his comment, relishing the sensation of Dieter Bravo praising your tits.

He massages them, softly at first, his touch a gentle prelude that gradually escalates in intensity as you wrap your arms around his neck, deepening your kiss, moaning against his lips. Your body responds eagerly, writhing on his lap, your swollen clit rhythmically rubbing against his hard bulge, each movement eliciting a wave of pleasure that has your eyes fluttering shut and your back arching.

Dieter leans in, spurred on by the movement of your body and your little moans of pleasure, pressing your tits together with a hunger that mirrors his escalating passion. His kisses are sloppy, a mixture of lust and possessiveness as he licks and sucks on your nipples, twirling his tongue around them.

The sensations alternate between pleasure and a tingling pain as he bites down, eliciting a desperate whimper from you that he hungrily absorbs by pressing his lips against yours once more.

“This your first time fucking a real movie star, baby?” he murmurs, trailing kisses and bites down your sensitive neck.

Your head is spinning, and it takes you a few seconds to register what he just asked you. Even if it weren’t true, you’d be smart enough to stroke his famously big ego and tell him what he wants to hear. But, in this case, it is true.

“Yeah,” you breathe, your fingers tangled in his now-disheveled curls.

God, his hair is soft. The thought crosses your mind that being a millionaire must afford you great hair care. Just one of the perks of being one of the chosen ones, you muse with a smile.

“I promise you’ll be thinking of me every time you fuck someone else after I’m done with you, darling,” he smirks at you, satisfied with the fact he’s the first man of his stature you’ve experienced.

If he wasn’t already rock-hard before, he would be now.

You giggle and bite your lip, your dilated pupils telling Dieter everything he needs to know – you want him as badly as he wants you.

“I’ll hold you to that,” you purr, leaning in to suck and nibble on his neck while rolling your hips again.

“Oh shit,” he whispers, letting his head fall against the headrest and gripping your hips with his hands. “I knew you were a bad girl the second I saw you.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Good girls don’t rub their needy little pussy on some stranger’s cock minutes after they met.” His breathing is strained, and he needs to concentrate hard to not come in his pants. “Good girls also don’t let me do a line off their perfect tits.”

You pull back a little to look into his eyes, and he raises an eyebrow.

Against your better judgment, you nod, and he reaches into the right pocket of his pants to retrieve the biggest coke baggie you’ve ever seen. Goddamn, how does this guy get any acting gigs done if he does massive amounts of coke like this? His manager must be nothing short of a god.

“Push them together, baby,” he says, watching hungrily as you take your tits and press them together to create enough surface for him to put his powder on. “Fuck, that’s it.”

He pours a generous amount onto your skin, creating a line with his finger.

“You’re so fucking hot, baby,” he murmurs, planting a kiss on your warm lips. His gaze drops to the line of coke on your tits before he lowers his head, presses a finger on his right nostril, and inhales the powder in one swift motion.

The lewd, forbidden feeling of letting him do drugs off your body has your pussy clench around nothing. You’re beyond turned on.

“Phew!” He closes his eyes and shakes his head. “This is some primo shit, holy fuck. You wanna try?”

Dieter’s eyes find yours as he wipes his nose and tilts his head. “You’re never gonna find something this pure again.”

“Sure, why not,” you coo, succumbing to the excitement of the moment. One more bad decision’s not gonna kill you, right?

“Such a bad girl,” he murmurs with a smirk, then pours some coke on the back of his hand. He arranges it in a line for you and brings it closer to your face.

The fine white powder lies on his skin like a whisper of the night, and with a quick, controlled motion, you inhale. The sensation is immediate, a rush that starts from the point of contact and spirals into a heady euphoria. The sharp intensity sends a tingling sensation through your nostrils, a mix of heat and exhilaration.

In that fleeting moment, the world seems to shift.

The pulsating lights of the city take on a surreal glow, and the hum of the car’s engine becomes a rhythmic accompaniment to the rush coursing through your veins. The nightclub’s music, still echoing in your ears, melds with your newfound energy, creating a synesthetic experience that blurs the boundaries between the external world and your internal sensations.

You’ve never felt this much like yourself and not like yourself at the same time before—it’s surreal.

A tingling warmth radiates through your body, a sensation that is both invigorating and disorienting, like an electrifying surge that momentarily disconnects you from reality.

Dieter watches in real time as the coke takes effect and your pupils dilate further, your features signaling an intensified awareness of your surroundings.

“That’s it, baby,” you hear him purr before you feel his hand on the back of your neck, pulling you into a messy kiss.

You’re not entirely sure how you made it to Dieter’s bedroom.

– – –

His sheets are incredibly soft, some sort of luxurious fabric that feels heavenly against your naked skin. You’re clad only in your panties, lying on your back with Dieter on top of you, your legs spread to accommodate his hips.

You hear music coming from a speaker somewhere in the room – he must’ve put it on when you got in. You moan as he kisses your neck, his warm tongue and lips tracing your skin, nibbling, biting, marking you.

He props himself up with his forearms on the bed beside your head, the soft hair on his belly grazing against your skin with each rhythmic movement of his hips.

“Look at me, baby,” he tells you, breathless, eager to finally bury himself in your pussy. You open your bloodshot eyes, biting your lip at the delicious pressure he’s putting on your clit.

“Tell me you want me.”

He caresses your cheek, his fingertips leaving a tingling sensation on your hot skin. You nod in response and moan when his hard cock rubs against your sensitive clit once again.

“Hey,” he taps your cheek not so gently and bores his eyes into you. “Use your words.”

You’re startled, but a grin forms on your lips as your foggy brain registers what he’s asking.

“I want you, Dieter,” you coo, your nails digging into the meat of his ass. “I want you to fuck me.” His lips crash against yours in an instant, and you whisper, “Please,” against them as your mind drifts off into another realm again.

“Don’t worry, baby,” he murmurs as he straightens up to take off his boxer briefs. “I’m gonna give you exactly what you need.”

Your eyes follow the movement of Dieter’s hands, mesmerized, watching in slow motion as his cock springs free. Fuck. It’s a lot bigger than you’d imagined, and it’s so…beautiful. You wish he’d put it in your mouth for you to taste it, but since you can feel him pulling down your panties, you guess he’s gonna go straight to fucking your pussy.

You feel his hands on your thighs as he positions himself between your spread legs. Then, you watch as he spits on his hand and strokes his cock. You moan at the sight, wanting nothing more than for him to take you, to ravage you, to become one with you.

“Fuck, you’re so wet, baby,” he murmurs more to himself than to you, haphazardly swiping his fingers through your dripping wet folds. You can’t hold back the moan that escapes your lips when he brushes your clit.

He scoots closer, and you can feel the hairs on his thighs against yours as he guides the tip of his cock to your entrance. It’s warm, slippery, feels kinda nice. You close your eyes and turn your head.

This is it. You’re gonna have sex for the first time.

And with none other than Dieter fucking Bravo – Oscar winner, movie star, womanizer extraordinaire. If you weren’t so out of it, you’d laugh at the ludicrousness of the situation.

He pushes in with one slow, deliberate thrust, savoring the feeling of each inch gradually disappearing into your body.

You inhale sharply, your breath catching at the initial discomfort of his cock stretching you. Your brow furrows in response, and you instinctively grip the sheets with your hands, a mix of pleasure and mild pain coursing through your body.

“Holy shit, your pussy’s tight,” Dieter groans, his hips stuttering at the sensation of being completely sheathed in you. “Feels so fucking good.”

He withdraws again just as you begin to acclimate to the girth of his cock inside you, leaving you whimpering at the sudden loss. Your hypersensitive system is so overloaded with sensations that it compels you to moan, whine, and writhe under his touch, uncertain of how to process everything you’re feeling and experiencing.

Dieter chuckles at your desperate little noises, more than ready to give you as much of his cock as he can, and to show you pleasure you didn’t know you were capable of.

If there’s one thing he takes pride in, it’s leaving his sex partners thoroughly satisfied, mind empty, covered in cum, and wanting more.

He spreads you open again in one smooth movement, your pussy eagerly devouring every inch. Pleased with your moans and the tight grip of your walls, he grabs your thighs and shifts his weight, pressing them against the mattress to penetrate you even deeper.

“Fuck,” is all you can get out as he sets a brutal pace, pushing your body up the bed repeatedly. His cock relentlessly strikes a deep spot within you, each thrust accompanied by the rhythmic slap of his balls against your ass.

“That’s it, baby. Take my fucking cock. Fuck, you’re the best slut I’ve had in a while.”

Dieter wants you to scream his name and come all over his cock. Sure. But he’s greedy and craves more than your physical surrender. He wants to etch his name into the very fabric of your desires, your being, a memory that will linger in your thoughts for the rest of your life.

The initial discomfort you’ve experienced slowly gives way to raw, carnal pleasure, a drug-induced dance of sensations that leaves you breathless. Dieter’s movements are harsh, designed to bring you to your limits, and you find yourself meeting his thrusts with an eagerness that surprises you.

The vast expanse of Dieter’s bedroom is filled with the intoxicating sound of your moans and smacking flesh, creating a dizzying symphony that envelops you in the throes of ecstasy.

“Look at me,” you hear him growl somewhere over you, and when you don’t budge, you feel his bruising grip on your jaw. “Hey, I’m not telling you again.”

You open your eyes, your eyelids so heavy you need to summon all of your strength to pry them open. Dieter’s face hovers close to yours, his breaths ragged, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead, tracing a path down his temples.

His eyes are dark, hungry, dangerous. He gazes at you like he wants to devour you, to consume you wholly. You sense the intensity of his desire, and you’re more than ready to surrender to it.

You feel his hands tighten around your neck, the diminishing flow of oxygen to your brain heightening your senses even more. As your vision blurs and your pulse quickens, you’re caught in a paradoxical dance of ecstasy and fear, an exhilarating moment that pushes you to the brink.

Dieter deliberately hits your G-spot over and over again, his cock throbbing and leaking precum at your increasingly loud moans and spasming walls.

“Is this what you wanted, huh?” he pants, intensifying the grip on your neck and the force of his thrusts. Instinctively, you start clawing at his arms. “What a sick little thing you are, getting off on me hurting you.”

Your eyes roll back and you feel yourself slipping away as Dieter’s pelvis puts enough pressure on your clit to bring you closer to climax with every roll of his hips.

“Oh fuck,” you faintly hear Dieter’s voice, “you’re choking the shit out of me, holy–”

You don’t hear the end of his sentence as an abrupt, violent orgasm takes over your body and mind in waves. Your walls spasm and contract uncontrollably around Dieter’s cock, every single muscle in your body tensing as you release a silent scream, caught in a tumultuous mix of ecstasy and distress.

Dieter lets go of your neck and bites down on your shoulder as he comes, emptying himself deep inside you with a guttural groan. His cock pulsates as your pussy eagerly milks and swallows up every last drop of his seed.

He pulls out of you and collapses onto the mattress, his chest heaving, heart racing, utterly spent. His cum leaks out of you, pooling on the sheets between your thighs.

The room is heavy with the lingering scent of sex as Dieter finally catches his breath. Sweat glistens on his forehead and chest, and his erratic breaths permeate the air. You lie there, silent and still, your body sore, and your mind in turmoil.

The reality of the moment slowly dawns on you – every heartbeat sobering you up a bit more, tangled emotions leaving you disoriented.

Shit. What have you done?

“That was…holy shit,” Dieter chuckles beside you as he props his head up on his hand.

His face falls immediately as he glances at the bloodstains on the sheets. His eyes widen in shock, and a pang of guilt hits him deep. He wasn’t gentle, and you never spoke up. The room is silent for a moment before he breaks it, his voice sharp and accusatory.

“You’re bleeding.” His eyes meet yours, and the storm within them is unsettling. Your heart beats rapidly, fear coursing through you. “Tell me this isn’t what I fucking think it is.”

You look away, a lump forming in your sore throat. “I...I didn’t expect it to hurt so much,” you admit, your voice barely audible.

“Oh my fucking god.” Dieter’s tone is harsh, his face contorted with a mixture of confusion and anger. He swiftly rises from the bed, the mattress shuddering under his abrupt departure. His pacing is agitated, a restless back-and-forth that adds to the already palpable tension between you two.

You sit up against the headboard and pull up the covers to shield yourself from the chilling air that envelops you. You’re shivering.

“Why the hell didn’t you say something? Are you trying to ruin me?”

Your heart drops. “Wha–”

His accusations hang in the air, and the room feels suffocating. Deep down, Dieter knows he should feel remorse for his actions, but instead, he redirects his hurt feelings towards you. The drugs and alcohol coursing through his system amplify his irrationality and paranoia.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” His voice rises, echoing off the walls. “Is this some sick ploy to get your fifteen minutes of fame or some shit? To expose me?”

You’re left stunned, the whirlwind of pain, confusion, and the sting of betrayal clouding your mind. The vulnerability you shared just moments ago morphs into an uncomfortable reality, a hurtful reminder of what you were to him — a warm, nameless body he could fuck.

And now, you’re a nuisance at best, and a PR nightmare at worst.

“Dieter, it’s nothing like that," you say, pleading, attempting to diffuse the escalating tension as the walls close in on the shattered remnants of a fun night. “I didn’t know how to tell you and…it’s not a big deal, I’m okay.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he shouts, shaking his head in frustration. “I wouldn’t have fucked you like that if I you’d told me you were–” he cuts himself off, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

The resentment in his gaze sends a shiver down your spine, making your blood run cold.

“Dieter–”

“Get the fuck out of my house.”

“Please, I’m sor–”

“Get the fuck out!” he roars, the anger in his eyes intensifying.

You immediately get up and scramble to get your clothes back on, your hands shaking. You grab your belongings, trying to maintain a shred of dignity as you hastily dress.

Dieter, seething with anger and regret, roughly hands you a wad of cash from his nightstand when you’re done.

“Here, take this. Get a Plan B or whatever the hell you need, and keep your mouth shut.”

You stare at the money in your hand, then at the man who’s throwing you out in the middle of the night after taking your virginity. The bills are cold in your hand, and you crumple them up, throwing them back at him.

“I’m not your whore, Dieter. Go to hell!”

Heels in hand, you make your way past him and out the door. You don’t stop as he calls after you, his voice strained with genuine remorse.

“I’m sorry!”

He really is.

– – –

The cold night air hits you like a slap, tears blurring your vision as you stumble away from Dieter’s mansion, the weight of what just transpired inside heavy on your shoulders.

His hurtful words echo in your mind, the throbbing pain between your legs intensifying with every step you take. Your breath falters in the frigid air, and you clutch your arms tightly around you as you make your way toward the waiting car.

The driver, standing beside the sleek vehicle, regards you with a mixture of concern and pity. His eyes have seen this scene unfold countless times before – another half-naked girl leaving his boss’s home in disarray.

You hate the way he looks at you, as if he knows more about your vulnerability than you’re willing to admit.

He opens the car door for you, and you gratefully sink into the plush leather seat. The warmth inside the car is a stark contrast to the chill outside, but it does little to ease the ache spreading through your body.

The driver takes his place behind the wheel, stealing glances at you through the rearview mirror.

“Where can I take you to, Miss?” His voice is gentle, filled with a practiced sympathy that makes your stomach churn. You hesitate for a moment, wrestling with the words you don’t want to say.

“Home,” you finally mumble, offering your address with a numb detachment. It feels like a betrayal, a surrender of your secret world to this stranger who witnesses the aftermath of Dieter Bravo’s fleeting affections.

The car glides through the silent streets, and you find yourself staring out of the window, the city lights blurred into a kaleidoscope of colors.

Your head is spinning, and the pain in your body intensifies with each passing moment. Tears escape as you touch the bruises on your neck, tracing silent paths down your cheeks. You wipe them away with the back of your hand, hoping the darkness conceals your shame.

The driver glances at you in the mirror.

“Are you alright, Miss?” he asks, his tone a delicate inquiry into the depths of your distress.

“Just…drive me home, please,” you whisper, your voice cracking with the weight of unshed tears. You don’t want his pity, his judgment. You just want to escape the haunting echoes of what happened tonight.

But you know that will never happen. Dieter got his wish after all.

You will forever remember him.

– – –

♥︎ Thank you for reading!! ♥︎

Dieter Bravo masterlist ♡ main masterlist

#dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo smut #tw dubcon #dieter bravo #mean!dieter bravo #dieter bravo angst #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo x female reader #the bubble fanfiction #fic: save your tears #pedro pascal characters #dieter bravo fic #mean!dieter #smut

183 notes · View notes