#i just could not get over what he was like in this so...a video!

[vanteguccir]

── 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."

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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 🙏🏻"

[kitten4sannie]

two player game

pairing: gamer boy! yunho x gf! reader

genre: smut with zero plot

summary: you find something worthwhile to occupy your attention while your boyfriend is wrapped up in his current save file.

w.c: 1.7k

warnings: nasty dom! yuyu (bro gets a bit whiny), tiny bit bratty mostly good girl! reader, pet names + name calling, praise + degradation, SIZE KINK 🗣️🗣️🗣️, monster cock yunho agenda, implied throat/hole training, manhandling, edging, cockwarming w throat, messy oral + deep-throating, finger sucking, a (rough) quick fuck bc yunho cums in 0.5 seconds, breeding + bulge kink, creampie <3

a/n: as a certified yunwhore i simply couldn’t pass up the opportunity to write about gamer boy yuyu ~~ honestly i have no excuse for this tbh i just need him so baddddd and this is what i have to do to keep the voices at bay 😔✊🏼 anygays, enjoy lovelies! and if you liked, please consider sharing your thots with me :3 <3

“You said you would stop playing after you finished that level, Yun, come on,” you whined to your boyfriend, who was currently balls deep in the newest video game he just bought. It should’ve been you he was balls deep in, yet here you were, third wheeling to an inanimate object. 

Yunho ducked and weaved around your waving hands that were currently trying to block his view from the flatscreen tv he was locked in on, sitting up from the slouched position he had on the sofa you both were lounging on. 

“Ugh,” you huffed, throwing yourself back into the couch, your arms crossing over your chest. “Whatever.” 

He turned his head for a moment to look at you apologetically, reminiscent of a golden retriever that just got scolded. “I’m sorry, baby, I swear, I’ll get off soon. I’m just…at a really good part right now.” 

“You said that twenty minutes agoooo.” You leaned against Yunho, your cheek squishing into his large shoulder, pawing at his nearest thigh. “Why can’t you play with me, instead of your stupid game?” 

“Oh, I see.” Yunho raised an eyebrow at you, glancing at you through his peripheral vision. “Someone’s in heat, huh?” 

You let out a whimper, kneading at his upper thigh. “I want you, Yun…Please, pay attention to me~” 

Yunho simply spread his thighs apart, your gaze shifting from his mischievous eyes to his poorly concealed cock still trapped inside his black sweatpants. He grunted, reaching down to adjust it, moving his thick length over so that it laid comfortably across the thigh closest to you. “You can have me, princess. I’m right here.” 

Just as you were about to pounce on him, Yunho grasped the bottom of your face in between his slender fingers. “Ahh, ahh, ahh.” Chuckling at the sight of your squished cheeks and confused face, he leaned in, whispering, “Go ahead and cockwarm me, baby, with that pretty little mouth of yours. You can do that for me while I finish this part, mm?” 

The sick bastard was toying with you. Well, two could play at that game. Licking your lips, you got down onto your knees in front of Yunho, fitting yourself in between his open thighs. Without saying a word, you began to run your fingers along his soft length over the material of his pants, tracing the outline of it, feeling it harden underneath your fingertips, making sure to rub your thumb over his pronounced tip, knowing it was sensitive. 

As if on cue, a small whimper escaped Yunho’s straining throat, his eyebrows screwing together as if to concentrate harder, refusing to look down at you. 

Filled with determination to interrupt his gaming, you tugged the waistline of his sweatpants down, your thighs squeezing together from the way his dripping cock smacked heavily up into his lower abdomen. You wrapped your hand around it, humming at how warm it felt within your grasp, lowering yourself down to slowly drag your tongue from the base up to the tip, licking around the tip until it shined. Lightly sucking it into your mouth, you palmed his balls one at a time, squeezing them suddenly, earning another whimper from your boyfriend. 

“You’re playing dirty, princess,” Yunho grunted, pressing his back into the couch, glancing down at you just in time to watch a good majority of his pulsing cock disappear down your throat. “Fuck, what a good slut…” He stroked the top of your head like he would with a cat, nodding approvingly. “I trained your throat well, haven’t I? Now, stay just like that while I play, okay?” 

Your cheeks grew warm from hearing your boyfriend’s polarizing praise, unable to keep yourself from letting his thick length push even deeper down into your throat, breathing shallowly through your nose, your lips already stinging at the corners. “Mmmrfff….” You stayed still for as long as you could with his oversized cock pressing against your tongue and throat, beads of saliva dripping past your mouth and down along his slick skin, using your hand to lube up what you couldn’t fit inside your mouth in the meantime. 

Yunho shuddered from underneath your touch, his half-closed eyes shifting downwards to burn the image of his tiny girlfriend, who was currently being swallowed by one of his many hoodies, trying her absolute best to fit his big cock inside her mouth. Your stark size differences always made him throb, made him want to take advantage of them in every way he could. “Look at you, taking all of me like that, baby…Take some more, okay?” he exhaled, sliding his slender fingers into your hair and bucking his hips up, fucking himself into your tight, warm throat. 

“Mmnn…!” you moaned back, squeezing your hands into his large thighs, feeling his muscles tighten up underneath your fingertips. You were so wet already, you had no choice but to squeeze your bare thighs together as a poor attempt to keep from soaking the carpet underneath you. Being enveloped in your boyfriend’s warm cologne and clothes while he ruthlessly shoved his cock down your throat was simply too much for a sensitive girl like you to handle without creaming yourself. 

“So tight, princess, just like your wet little cunt, huh?” he groaned out, opting to wrap his fingers around the back of your neck and continue shoving himself into your throat, rolling his hips up in a quick, sloppy fashion, with clear desperation, and a need to give his pretty cum dump a load to gulp down. He audibly hummed at the choked moans and gasps you were letting out, pulling out just to roughly slap his cock down onto your lolled out tongue, grunting and groaning as he shot thick spurts of cum down your throat. He tried to control his panting, wanting to hear your answer to his next question. “You sounded so hot, choking and moaning on my cock like that. You soaked your panties just from getting throat-fucked, didnt you, baby?” 

“Uh-huhhh,” you purred, your voice a bit gravelly from the abuse your throat took, swallowing down most of his load, only sticking your tongue back out when he reached down to push two fingers over it and into the back of your throat. 

Yunho watched with awe as you didn’t seem to gag, humming at the feeling of you sucking the rest of his pre-cum and other mixed fluids from his slender digits. “That’s my good girl…so well trained now…fuck.” 

You moaned onto his fingers that continued to lazily slide over your tongue and occasionally down into your throat, slowly pulling away to purr, “My cunt’s trained too, Yuyu. Don’t you wanna fill up my other hole, see how well I can handle your cock now?”  

Not caring that he had been missing out on the important lore that was playing out in the current cutscene the entire time, Yunho tossed his controller out of the way and lifted you up from the floor, taking a second to push your soaked panties out of the way before he sat you down onto his cock. He let out a small growl, watching your cunt swallow the thick tip of his cock and slowly take the rest of him inch by inch. “God, you’re still so fucking tight, princess…” Yunho pressed his lips onto your ear, rubbing his hands up and down your waist, the borrowed hoodie you wore bunching up near your tummy. “Mm, but you can’t help having such a tiny pussy, can you? So small and cute…perfect for my big cock to fuck full…” 

“Perfect for you, Yun, just for you–nnngh…!” you gasped sharply, just as your boyfriend began ramming himself up into you, his hands tightening the grip they had around your soft waist, using you like you were his own perfectly crafted cocksleeve. “So big, so biggg, fuck–”

“And you’ll fit it all inside your perfect cunt, just like you always do, won’t you, baby? Yeah, just like that,” he groaned out, lowering one hand down to your tummy to rub circles over it, feeling his own cock as it slammed into your cunt each and every time. It never failed to make him feel so dizzy, knowing you were this small, yet you could always take his cock like a champ. “That’s my girl, look at you go, baby, letting me breed you like this…so good for me…” 

“So good, so good for you, Yuyu…” You gripped his shoulders tightly, your nails digging into them through his hoodie, unable to keep yourself from moving your hips down whenever he fucked up into you, growing more and more desperate now that you were on the edge of ecstasy. “Gonna cum…oh my god, breed me, please…!” 

“Gonna fuck you so full of my load, princess…” Yunho tossed his head back into the couch, his deep groans gradually turning into a staccato of whiny, higher-pitched moans, still able to forcefully drive you down onto his cock, but his thrusts growing increasingly sloppy and desperate. All Yunho had to do was lift his head back up to look at your pretty fucked out face and how effortlessly tiny you looked wearing his hoodie to reach his limit, immediately pumping his hot load into you as soon as it began spurting out of his aching cock. “You feel that, baby? All the cum I’m fucking into you…?” 

“Mmhmm…!” It felt so good, you started to cry. “I love it, Yuyu…” 

Just as his cockhead roughly kissed your cervix for the last time, Yunho felt your cunt lock around him like a vice, something warm and wet coating his cock and lap. “Fuck, you just came all over my cock, didn’t you?” He chuckled, rubbing your back in small circles. “Always making such a mess, aren’t you, babygirl?” 

“It’s all your fault, Yun,” you whined softly into Yunho’s shoulder, hugging onto him for dear life, your vision fading in and out. If you had came any harder, you would’ve passed out, though it was always like this whenever you were around your irresistible boyfriend. 

“Mm, why don’t you remind me of who it was that interrupted my gaming session?” He sent a playful smile your way, booping your nose when you pouted. “Oh baby, next time, just ask me if we can switch to a two player game~” 

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

© kitten4sannie, 2024.

[jinwoosbabyboo]

Self-Aware!Xavier x Down-Bad!Player

Xavier becoming aware he's in a game now he's aware of you as well. A/N: Don't fight me

Self-Aware!Xavier who realizes he’s in a game when he can hear you talking about Lumiere. “Lumiere is in Abyssal Chaos again *sigh* I love him” “So you’re infatuated with Lumiere as well?” You freeze, looking around not sure if he’s talking to you or not. You check the time and realize it's late so you decide to just go to bed.

Self-Aware!Xavier who draws his sword on you the next day questioning who you are. You're stunned at the fact he's actually talking to you. “That will literally do nothing you can’t reach me Xav” “What do you mean?” he can’t quite understand why you’re a stranger, but you also feel so familiar.

Self-Aware!Xavier who quickly grows fond of you. He finds himself napping on the phone with you often now. “Are you free this afternoon? I was hoping we could nap together” starts out as phone call naps which turn into FaceTime/video chat naps and eventually turns into him not being able to sleep well unless you’re on the phone

Self-Aware!Xavier who loves to eat with you and listen to you rant about your day and anything you can think of because your voice alone soothes him. He’s concerned when you don’t log in for a day telling you how he didn’t get good sleep because he didn’t hear from you.

Self-Aware!Xavier who plans meals around your schedule because he will always make time for you. He claims the food taste better if he gets to look at you while he eats.

Self-Aware!Xavier who wants to learn the kind of games that exist in your world. You’re connected through technology so he finds a way to play video games with you even it means illegally transferring data to him through the app.

Self-Aware!Xavier who tells you he has someone he’s in love with so he can’t fall for you. “I know” “You know?” “Queen of Philos … I know …. she loves you too by the way” you don’t miss the way he slightly deflates at the fact that you know who he was talking about.

Self-Aware!Xavier who even though he said he can’t fall in love with you falls head first anyway and can’t stay away from you. He finds himself speaking to in-game MC less and less meanwhile he’s becoming incredibly jealous over not just the guys in your life, but everyone who is able to actually be in your presence. “Your day sounded like it went well” hes pouting “me and some friends went to topgolf” “I heard”

Y/N: Xav are you jealous? Xavier: And if I say yes? Y/N: I'd say you’re not supposed to have feelings for me Xavier: It’s hard not to have feelings for someone who feels like home Y/N: I feel like home to you? Xavier: Yes and here I am yet again unable to reach my home

Self-Aware!Zayne

Self-Aware!Rafayel

Self-Aware!Sylus

[rosenclaws]

XXX.Com || Pornstar Worst!Logan Howlett smut

summary: Logan needs money and work is hard to find when you're from another universe, luckily he lands himself a job as an adult film actor. Lets just say, he's a natural.

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI!!, 18+ ONLY, fem!reader, porn (obvi lol), jerking off, dirty talk, unprotected sex, cream pie, scratching, oral f!receiving, rough sex, fake professor x college student (its the porno they're filming), he calls you teach in the porno, reader has a stage name (sunshine), flirting.

a/n: This was inspired by the delicious pornstar logan fics by @bpmiranda I wanted to try my own twist on the trope but plz go check out their fics they are amazing!!

Coming from another universe had its fair share of problems. For one his other self was a very well known hero so people were constantly staring. The other issue was working. He needed money if he ever wanted to move out of this god forsaken place. He’s sick of seeing wade walk around naked at 8 in the morning.

He needs his space and to get that he needs money but getting a job with none of the required paperwork was hard. He had to settle for doing odd jobs that paid cash under the table. Those were fine but he needed something more stable.

When Wade suggested he turn to adult films he rolled his eyes at another attempt at shitty humor from his roommate but the more he thought about it the less it seemed like a joke. The money was good and hopefully they didn't ask too many questions. So fuck it. How he found the right place was a long story but he ended up getting hired pretty quickly.

As the director put it. He's sexy and big in more ways than one. To Logan's surprise they didn't seem to care much that he was from another universe but they did have to make sure he wasn't a total creep which he understood.

The first video he was assigned to was pretty basic. Just fucking a girls brains out or something. Whatever the hell people were in to these days, he didn't really care. As long as he got paid. He had to get used to the prying eyes of the cameras.

Still he said his lines, albeit it took him a couple takes to say them naturally. His gruff voice and rippling muscles skyrocketed him to the top. Despite being a rookie he attracted a lot of attention and even garnered a reputation within the studio. No one could deny the raw animal magnetism this man seemed to have.

"Logan! Good news, your next video is going to be a with one of the most popular stars in our studio." The directors over the top enthusiasm makes Logan's eyes roll but he grunts out a response.

"Her name is Sunshine. Look her up. Anyways be here tomorrow by nine." Sunshine? Logan chuckles to himself as he leaves the studio.

Fake names are not uncommon but he's yet to find one that sounds so...perky. Still his curiosity gets the better of him as he steals Wades laptop in the dead of night. Searching in the name and scanning the results. Logan works with many attractive people in this job but the moment he lays eyes on you something shifts.

You aren't just attractive, you're drop dead gorgeous. He clicks on a video and his cock tightens in his pants. The faces you make don't look over the top or rehearsed. They almost look real. But Logan can tell you're faking it.

Your moans are sweet but he can tell whoever this boy is that's got his cock in you isn't doing his job very well. Still ever the professional you are you make it work. He falls down a rabbit hole of video after video. Shutting the laptop as the clock reads two in the morning. His cock is hard and painful as he puts Wades laptop back on the counter.

Fuck he needs a shower.

The ice cold water hits his back but it's not helping. He wraps his hand around his cock. Keeping his noises to a minimum as he jerks himself off to the thought of you. He bites his lip as he thinks of every way he can make you scream tomorrow. Show you what it's like to be fucked by a real man.

The sinful thoughts that fill his head drive him over the edge. He slams his hand against the shower wall as he comes. The water running down his back as he catches his breath. You've already got him interested, he just hopes he can put on a real show tomorrow.

-

When Logan gets to the studio the director tells him the "plot" of this video. Plot being a very loose term here. He's supposed to be the failing college senior while you play the hot young professor. They hand him a white button up a size too small and some fake glasses. He laughs as they place the glasses onto his face.

"No one's going to fucking buy this." The buttons threaten to bust open as they start to fix his hair.

"I don't know, you look pretty convincing to me." He looks up to see you smiling at him.

Already dressed in your shoot clothes with your makeup and hair all done. He shamelessly looks you up and down, licking his lips as his eyes settle on your cleavage.

"I'm a little old to be playing a college student don't you think?" You shrug and walk closer to him. You take your hands and run them through his hair, trying to flatten the parts that stick up but they don't want to listen.

"Don't think any one is watching these for the realism Logan." You wink as you then move to fix his glasses.

He clenches his jaw as he tries to contain the raging boner. He shouldn't be hard yet but here he is. You're driving him crazy.

"Promise to go easy on you, don't want to scare my new favorite coworker." You tease. Your nails scratch along his jaw, just for a moment but it's enough to drive him wild.

"I'm your favorite already Sunshine?" Logan says with a grin.

"For now, don't prove me wrong when the cameras are on us." You walk away and Logan enjoys every second of it. Oh this is going to be fun.

-

"Come on teach, your class is the only one I'm failing. I need to get a C to graduate." Logan's massive frame towers over your desk. His lines come out much more flirty than its supposed to but you roll with it.

"You need a lot of extra credit to make up the missing assignments Mr. Howlett." You stand up and walk over to where he was standing.

Pushing on his chest to get him to sit. You smirk when you see the buttons on his shirt fighting for their life. You sit on top of the desk and pretend to think.

"I'll do anything you want. Anything" Logan growls, his hand resting on your thigh now. Slowing inching up your leg, stopping right at the hem of your pencil skirt. You place your heel onto his shoulder. Spreading your legs so that Logan and the camera can see your lack of panties.

"Well, lets see how bad you want it." You taunt.

Your voice is smooth as butter and it drives him nuts. Logan gets on his knees. Ripping your skirt apart with ease making you gasp. That wasn't in the script but fuck it made you wet. His muscles are bulging in that damn shirt and you want to see what's underneath in person. Sadly that was going to have to wait as he trails kisses up your legs. Wet and sloppy as his grip on your hips is ironclad.

The camera moves to capture Logan's face. Seeing the primal hunger in his eyes as he grabs the hem of your panties with his teeth, dragging them down. He stands up with them still in his mouth. You grab onto his shirt and rip it open. Raking your nails down his very toned chest. You grab your underwear out of his mouth and toss it to the side.

"Good boy." You purr as you push on his shoulders.

He gets back onto his knees and wastes no time diving into your cunt. You fall back onto the desk as Logan takes you apart with his tongue. Moans and whimpers fall from your lips with ease. There is no need to fake your pleasure with him between your legs.

He's hungry, ravenous. Logan can't get enough. He holds your legs apart, keeping you from closing them as he zeros in on your clit. He's ruthless. Refusing to give you a moment to breathe as he loses himself in your pussy.

"You taste sweeter than I imagined." He growls off script. If he wasn't bringing you to orgasm you'd wonder what he meant by that. You wonder if he watched your videos just like you had.

"Logan!" You moan as your legs start to shake under the intense pleasure.

"That's it teach, let me taste you come on." His dirty mouth makes your head spin.

Your eyes squeezing tight as he pushes you over the edge. You barely even notice the camera as it positions itself over Logan's shoulder. Logan resist the urge to break the damn thing as it gets in his way. He feels a push on his shoulder and he growls. Reluctantly he gets out of the way and uses his thumb to rub your clit.

"I have an idea teach," Logan purrs. He pulls you off the desk. Wrapping an arm around you and grinding his clothed cock against your thigh.

"For every orgasm I can pull out of you, you raise my grade by a letter." He breathes into your neck, inhaling your scent. You sigh as his hands start to grope and squeeze your breasts.

"What do you say?" He grins as he feels you squirm under his touch. He unbuttons your blouse and tosses it to the side. Mouth watering as he buries his face in your breasts.

"You better get to work then Mr. Howlett. You're at a D right now." You turn around and bend over the desk. His hands run along your body before he unbuckles his pants.

"I'll show you a D." He grumbles. You have to stifle a laugh at his words.

The camera moves to show your face as Logan slides his cock inside of you. He throws his head back in pleasure as he gets to feel your tight cunt. Now this is what he was waiting for.

"Come get a shot of this." He whispers to himself.

He drags his cock out slowly. He watches in awe as your cute pussy just sucks him up. Your hands are digging into the desk, clawing at the wood as Logan's massive cock pushes its way in. You knew he was big but to actually feel it in person. Fuck.

"That feel good? You like my big cock hm?" Logan's cocky tone makes you moan as he picks up his pace. He's pummeling your poor pussy with no mercy. Your moans are as real as they can get as you cry and whine with each thrust.

"Logan oh god!" Your eyes cross as his cock hits a sensitive spot.

No one's ever hit that before. You're falling apart. Your chest heaves as you try and catch your breath but your moans quiet down because of it. Logan doesn't like that one bit. You groan as you feel his hand grab your hair. He pulls you up so that your back is arched. His cock somehow pushing its way deeper.

"Come on baby, don't hide from me." He whispers in your ear. He wraps an arm around your chest to hold you up. Your nails dig into his arm to ground yourself.

"Feel so fucking good, jerked myself off last night to your videos." He mumbles so only you can hear. You don't understand how a man can have so much stamina. He doesn't even seem tired.

"So fucking close I can feel it baby. I can feel the way your cunt clenches around my fat cock. I can hear her pulsing for me." His eyes grow dark as he feels you start to lose it.

His rough fingers sliding down to play with your cunt. It's a filthy sight to watch. You've forgotten about the cameras and the crew. The only thing you can feel is Logan. He's taken over your mind, your senses.

"That's it pretty girl." He bites your shoulder and the pain mixes with pleasure.

"Fuck!" You wail as you come hard around his cock. Logan groans in pleasure and comes before he can really stop himself. Filling you up nice and full as you babble incoherently. You can barely get your lines out as you float between the real world and cloud nine.

"You got your C Mr. Howlett." You've never been this wrecked after a scene before but Logan has completely ruined you. You grin at the feeling of his cum seeping out of you.

"You know, I've always wanted an A." He's grinning like the devil as he thrusts his hips once more making you cry out.

He's still fucking hard. He really is every porn studios wet dream. Hot, sexy, can go for round after round. The director calls cut but Logan doesn't let go of you. You've got this dazed look in your eyes and he gently lays you down on the desk.

"You alright?" He grunts as he slips out of you. His cock still standing straight as someone brings him a robe. He grabs a towel from one of the PA's and gently wipes up your legs. You whine as the rough material brushes against your poor pussy.

"Sorry." You just smile in response. You haven't had a fuck this good in a long time. A crew member brings you a robe and you put it on.

"You really know how to use that thing. For a second I thought you were the seasoned professional." You joke as you try and get off the desk. You stumble and Logan is quick to catch you.

"What can I say Sunshine, you made it easy." He flirts. The director calls his name and he rolls his eyes.

"Don't keep him waiting Logan. I'll see you soon." Another crew member comes to help you as Logan lets you go.

Thankfully this was all you had for the week and you could go home and soak in a bath. Your poor legs are going to need it. After signing a few things and getting next weeks shoot list you can finally go home.

"Sunshine, hope I didn't fuck you too good." Logan says with a wink. He's waiting outside of the studio, a cigar in his mouth.

"I regret whatever I said before, your ego is going to get too big." You joke. He shrugs and puts out his cigar on the ground.

"You got any plans?" He asks. Your dressed in normal clothes now, nothing remotely revealing but Logan still thinks you look gorgeous.

"I could take you to lunch, if you're interested." He offers.

You haven't thought about dating since you started working in this industry. You didn't need a partner and it could be hard trying to find one who understood your job. But Logan flashes that handsome smile and for some reason you can't resist.

Maybe your working backwards here. He fucks you and then you go to lunch but hey, nothing about him is conventional anyways.

"Yeah, lunch sounds good."

Its just lunch, you tell yourself. It's only a meal with your hot coworker. If things were to go further though you wouldn't complain. Certainly not when he's as handsome as he is. You definitely wouldn't mind taking him back to your place and you're certainly okay when he promises he can go for more rounds away from the prying eyes of the camera. But for now it's just lunch. He pays and you give him your number.

Logan and you part ways and he prays he sees you again. Not just at work but outside of it too. You've got him hooked. The video gets uploaded and explodes in popularity. Praising how realistic it felt and how hot both of you were. He gets a call from the director, expecting another update on his next shoot.

"Great news man! Sunshine wants to do exclusive shoots with you. Oh this is going to make us so much money." He tunes out the rambling as his phone dings. A smirk appearing on his face when he sees a text with your name pop up.

Want to rehearse our next scene? my place 7pm <3

[flowerbunnyboo]

PROSTATE PLAY | back

starring: oc (Adam) x male reader

summary: Adam is a urologist, a doctor that deals with penises and prostates. Little did he expect to have one of the best sex ever with a random patient on a random day

nsfw

a/n: this is a repost. I have written one with a kpop idol. Thought I should post this without a kpop idol for the non kpop fans because I love the sayuncle videos

It was a typical Wednesday morning at Dr. Adam’s urology clinic. Patients trickled in, each with their unique set of urinary issues. Adam, a tall and handsome man in his early thirties, greeted them with a warm smile as he efficiently diagnosed and treated various conditions - from kidney stones to prostatitis.

Just before lunch, a new patient arrived, introducing himself as Mn. He looked to be in his late twenties, with short dark hair and piercing eyes that seemed to hold a secret. As Mn settled onto the examination table, Adam couldn't help but notice the way his slender fingers drummed against his thigh, betraying a hint of nervousness.

“So, tell me Mr. Mn”,Adam began, leaning over the chart, “What seems to be the problem?”

Mn shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting around the sterile white room before finally meeting Adam’s gaze.

“Well, Doctor... I've been experiencing some discomfort down there,” he gestured vaguely towards his crotch, his voice dropping to a whisper. “It's like... my dick just feels off sometimes”

Adam raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite himself. “Off, how exactly? Painful? Tingly? Or perhaps... “. His voice trailed off suggestively as he allowed his gaze to linger on Mn's lap, where a noticeable bulge strained against the fabric of his jeans.

Mn's cheeks flushed a deep crimson, and he quickly looked away, clearing his throat. “N-no pain, really. Just... sensitivity, I guess. And sometimes it gets hard without warning”

Adam nodded thoughtfully, making a note on the chart making another mark beside 'Premature Ejaculation'.

He glanced up at Mn through his lashes, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Hmm, interesting. Well, let's take a closer look, shall we?”

Without waiting for a response, Adam reached for the stethoscope hanging from his neck and deftly unbuttoned Mn's pants.

The cool metal pressed against sensitive skin as he listened intently, his breath hot against Mn's inner thigh.

“Mmm, sounds healthy enough”, Adam murmured, his fingers trailing lightly along the waistband of Mn's boxers. “But I think we should rule out any potential prostate issues. Just a routine exam, don't worry”

Mn bit his lip, trying to ignore the thrill that shot through him at Adam’s touch. ‘Prostate exam?’ Was that normal for this kind of visit? He didn't think so, but the doctor's confident demeanor put him at ease.

Adam carefully peeled down Mn's boxers, exposing his erect cock to the cool air of the exam room. A low whistle escaped his lips. “My, you're quite the one, aren't you?”

Mn's face burned even hotter, but he couldn't help shying under the praise.

Adam’s hands were gentle as they wrapped around his shaft, giving it a slow squeeze. “Relax, this won't hurt a bit”, the doctor assured him, his thumb rubbing teasing circles over the sensitive head.

As Adam began to stroke Mn's length, the young man felt his resolve crumbling.

The pleasure was overwhelming, and Mn found himself arching into Adam’s touch, his hips instinctively rocking to meet those skilled fingers. “Oh god, that feels...amazing”, he panted, his eyes fluttering shut.

Adam smiled to himself, pleased by the reaction. He picked up the pace, pumping Mn's cock with increasing urgency. “You're doing great, just relax and enjoy it”, he cooed, leaning in close to murmur against Mn's ear.

The heat of Adam’s breath sent shivers down Mn's spine, and he could feel his balls drawing up tight, signaling his impending climax. But just as he teetered on the edge, Adam abruptly pulled away, leaving Mn aching and empty.

“Almost there, but not yet”

Adam said with a wink, his own erection straining visibly against his scrubs. “Now, let's see about that prostate of yours...”

Before Mn could protest, Adam had positioned himself between his thighs, one hand guiding Mn's leg up and over his hip. The other hand, slick with lube, pressed insistently against Mn's rear entrance.

“Oh!”, Mn gasped, surprised by the sudden intrusion. But instead of pain, a wave of intense pleasure washed over him as Adam’s finger breached his tight hole.

“That's it, just relax”, Adam soothed, slowly working his finger deeper. “You're doing fantastic”

Mn moaned, his head falling back as he surrendered to the sensation. Adam finger curled inside him, stroking that magical spot that made stars explode behind his eyelids.

”Doctor”, Mn whimpered, his voice trembling with need, “please... I need..”

He didn't even know what he needed anymore, only that the ache within him demanded to be filled.

Adam must have understood, because suddenly he was removing his finger and replacing it with the thick head of his own cock.

Mn cried out as he felt that first delicious stretch, his body Adam the invasion. Adam pushed in inch by glorious inch until he was buried to the tip, filling Mn completely.

For a moment, they simply stayed like that, caught in the haze of pleasure. Then Adam began to move, withdrawing until just the tip remained inside Mn before plunging back in with a deep, satisfying thrust.

“Yes, oh god yes”, Mn chanted, his hands fisting in the sheets as he met each powerful stroke.

The room echoed with the sound of flesh slapping against flesh, punctuated by their ragged breathing and muffled groans. Adam set a relentless pace, driving into Mn with precision and passion, his hips snapping forward with each thrust.

Mn's world narrowed to the feeling of being so thoroughly claimed, so utterly owned by this handsome doctor. He'd never experienced anything like it, and the intensity threatened to consume him whole.

“Harder, please”, Mn begged, his voice hoarse with desire. “Fuck me harder!”

Adam obliged, picking up speed until the exam table shook beneath them. He leaned down to capture Mn's mouth in a searing kiss, his tongue delving deep to tangle with Mn's.

The added stimulation sent Mn careening over the edge.

With a strangled cry, Mn came undone, his orgasm crashing over him like a wave. His cock jerked, painting the sheets below with streaks of cum as wave after wave of bliss pulsed through him.

Through it all, Adam continued to pound into him, chasing his own release. “Fuck, you feel incredible”, he growled against Mn's lips, his thrusts growing erratic as he neared the edge.

With a final, brutal plunge, Adam buried himself to the inside and still Mn could feel every throbbing inch as he erupted inside him. The warmth of his seed flooding Mn's insides triggered another aftershock, leaving them both shaking and spent.

As the aftermath settled, Adam collapsed onto Mn, his weight a comforting pressure against him.

They lay there for a long moment, catching their breath and savoring the intimate silence. Finally, Adam lifted his head to gaze at Mn with a soft, satisfied smile.

“Well, that was certainly an unconventional examination”, he teased, brushing a strand of sweat-dampened hair from Mn's forehead. “But I think we can safely say your physical is complete”

Lets say Mn became a regular at the clinic

©️ flowerbunnyboo 2024. all rights reserved to me. please don't copy my work or reshare without my permission and credit

[pumpumdemsugah]

The woman in this video described her husband as A GOOD MAN ( and Christian) and I've seen lots of women say this about men who years later they realise/ admit was physically abusive, belittled them, cheated, cruel and in this case, raped her 4 times early on in the marriage. This isn't just an issue of what chasing wealthy men can look like, but how much women look past red flags and problems with men because they desperately need the man in front of them to be a " GOOD MAN". She thought she could " get over" being raped by this man. The first time he raped her should have ended that relationship, but it's worth keeping in mind, she's a product of rape so this could have impacted the way she tried to " move past" marital rape.

It was her daughters being sexually abused that made her leave immediately. When she saw a bruise and asked her daughter and her toddler said, it was her father who did this, she didn't doubt her. She left straight away by coming up with a lie to get out of the house ( said she was going Halloween shopping so he didnt think it was suspicious she took all her kids and large bag ), and took her daughters to the hospital to get checked. What she looked past was this man being unpleasant and raping her, not child sex abuse

I'm in no doubt this man married her quickly to get access to her children and to have kids he wanted to abuse. Lots of predators love to target women with kids.

There's multiple issues happening here, but I'm at the point where women tell me they have good men, I don't really trust their words because that "good" could be doing ALOT of heavy lifting. I dont believe anyone arguing in the replies on tumblr about how great their man is. There's literally no way to know if you're being dishonest because, like the woman in this screenshot who ran a hypergamy trophy wife channel and gave tips about getting a "good man" like him, who knows what you're trying to " move past" while giving out tips.

I dont know this woman, and her full story. Im sharing these to display why generally women, girls and ladies should not aspire to only be housewives, with no independent finances.

[starryjake]

thinking about toxic situationship!heeseung :(

you’re by far his favorite out of all the girls he fucks but he’s too cocky to let you know that. in the back of your mind, though, you know. you can’t imagine that he takes his other girls out for late night ramen or lets them sit on his lap and watch him play video games.

you can’t imagine he’s as gentle and sweet during aftercare with anyone else. in fact, you really hope he isn’t. you hope he kicks out all the other girls he sleeps with as soon as he’s done with them. you hope that he doesn’t let them spend the night like he does with you, even going as far as to make you breakfast or take you out the next day.

every time he’s with another girl, he can’t stop thinking about fucking annoying they are and can’t help himself from comparing them to you. he knows you would be so much better: better at sucking his dick, better at riding him, just your pussy in general was better.

he’d text you when he was hanging out with other girls, not even waiting for them to leave the room but doing it right next to them. he didn’t care if they could see, even when he was texting you about how bad they were and how he wished he were with you instead.

heeseung: this blows

y/n: whys that?

heeseung: bc she isn’t you baby

y/n: you could always leave and come over :)

heeseung: aww my girl wants me to ditch this chick and come fuck her instead? is that what you want, little princess?

y/n: fuck hee…please :(

he could not say no to you. 10 minutes later and he’s ditched the random girl he was with and was instead pounding you into your mattress, grunting loudly as you clenched around him.

“fuck yeah, baby,” he moaned, hips drilling into you. “you’re such a good girl. so much fucking better than anyone else.”

and you took it so well, eating up every last word.

he also loved that you didn’t talk to any other guys. you just wanted him and only him so, so badly, and maybe if he did relationships, he would choose you to be his girlfriend. but, he didn’t date and he made sure you were aware of that from the start your situationship. but the point was, he loved that you were still loyal to him, not even wanting to talk to another guy because they just weren’t heeseung. no one did it like him.

no one ate you out until you were squirting everywhere and shaking like he did. no one fucked you until your eyes were rolling into the back of your head and drooling onto his sheets like he did. no one made you feel like passing out from intense pleasure like heeseung.

you liked him. you were probably in love with him. you hated knowing he saw other girls and he loved knowing it made you upset. he loved knowing that you liked him enough to get so jealous of other girls.

again, he would never tell you that he couldn’t give less of a shit about the other girls. in fact, he would purposely use them just to make you jealous, fucking them for the sole reason of knowing you would hate it. your jealousy was what got him off because it showed that you cared about him, that you wanted him all to yourself.

he thought about you every time he thrusted his cock inside another girl’s pussy. he thought about how much tighter you were than them. how much warmer, wetter, and more delicious you were.

heeseung liked you a lot too. he was also probably in love with you and he realized that when he was finishing on the tits of someone else and moaned out your name instead of theirs.

-

like sorry i just needed to get this off my chest bc heeseung is FUCKING WITH ME TODAY!!

anyway how are y’all? :3

[daydreams-after-dark]

Free Use Jail Cell, Extra

Dinner date with Minho

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 (final) | extra: Police Reports | Dinner date with Minho

Police Officer Skz ot8 x female reader

Premise: A continuation of the free use jail cell series.

Word Count: this installment 4.3k approx.

Chapter Summary: You are free from the ot8 free use jail, Minho helps you out and then asks you over for dinner.

CW below the cut.

This is also in response to this ask here.

CW: masturbation with sex toys, video sex, spanking, vaginal penetration with an object, oral sex (m rec), vaginal sex (unprotected), restraints, stretch kink (because I'm obsessed).

After he’s finished kissing you and watching you drive away, Minho heads back into the police station. He feels giddy, like a school boy who’s just had his first kiss. It's a feeling he hasn’t felt in a long time and he is both excited and fearful of it. Usually, when things start off this good, they inevitably end in disaster. But you know what he’s like when it comes to sex, and you weren’t scared off. That’s one fundamental difference from his past partners.

“Why the fuck are you smirking like that?” Says Jeongin looking up from his seat in the Chief’s office. 

Everyone is sitting around the coffee table as Chan had gathered everyone for a meeting before going home.

“Not sure what you’re talking about?” Minho grunts, taking a seat next to Jisung, and trying to act like he didn’t just have the most delicious kiss of his life.

 Chan looks at him suspiciously.

“Yeah, you’ve been a little weird ever since you and Seungmin ‘interrogated’ her.” Hyunjin adds.

“Yeah, man. And what was that back in the gang bang?” Changbin joins in.

“The fuck you talking about?” Growls Minho.

“Gees, someone’s sensitive.” Hyunjin mumbles.

“I’m talking about how soft you were with her. You barely said a fucking word, then you fucked her so… so gently. That wasn’t in her request list.” Changbin replies.

Everyone turns to MInho and he feels the cogs in their heads turning. 

“Well, Minho is good at picking up what people need, especially without them saying anything.” Offers Felix.

“That’s right.” Reiterates Chan sternly, staring directly at Minho.

Minho shifts awkwardly in his seat, feeling caught out.

“Fine. I just think he was a little too soft, that's all.” Changbin grumbles, settling back into his seat.

“Okay, boys.” Chan claps, signaling it’s time to move on. “I know we’ve only just finished our contract with Y/n, but I wanted to take the opportunity to discuss our next client and their requests.” 

But Minho is barely listening. His mind keeps going back to you. Back to the way your lips felt against his own. The way your tongue sought his. The way you hooked a leg over his arm, seeking friction against your sweet little pussy. Fuck. Focus.

“So we have several women requesting two of us at once, and a couple are just after one. I thought we could divvy up the contracts and conduct them over the same few days.”

Everyone nods in agreement. It makes sense, that way if another client seeks five or six of them then they will have availability. 

“Okay. The first is a request for two doctors. I think Seungmin and Jeongin would be good for that, yes?” He looks up at the pair and they both nod. Neither of them are new to that role. “Then a request for a fae themed scenario. I’m thinking we could use that cabin in the woods, the one we used for the kidnapping one, yeah? Felix, I think you’d be perfect.”

”No worries. I’ll get the place ready, and I’m pretty sure I saw the perfect costume online.” He makes a note on his phone to follow up.

“Good, make sure it can be sent express post. Um, a vampire request. Hyunjin?” he looks up at him and Hyunjin nods in acceptance. 

“Then there’s this one I quote ‘threesome where one guy is in me and another guy in him.’”

“Ooo ooo me!” Jisung raises his hand enthusiastically, almost jumping out of his seat.

“Alright, Jisung. Who else is happy to assist?”

Jisung turns to Minho. “Please, hyung!!! Be my partner!” He bats his eyelids at him.

“Fine.” Minho rolls his eyes. Actually he is secretly glad he does’t have to directly fuck another woman so soon after you.

“Yes!” Jisung fist pumps the air.

“Lastly, a personal trainer fantasy. Bin, you and I can take that one. Okay, everyone will receive emails with the full details, so make sure you read them thoroughly, and converse with your partner if you have one. Good job, boys. Enjoy your time off, and see you soon.”

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

I wonder if she likes cats? Minho is still thinking about you when he lets himself into his apartment and is greeted by his fur baby. “Hey, Soonie,” he says, squatting down and patting his cat. “You miss me, huh? It’s okay, Daddy’s home now.” 

He potters around his apartment, putting on a load of clothes washing, vacuuming, and then cooking himself a meal. All while trying not to look at his phone where he now has your phone number he stole from your file. 

At some point while he’s cooking, he finds his phone in his hand and is staring at the number.

Is it too soon to call you? Of course it is. What kind of desperate fool are you?

He sighs and locks his phone, setting it back on the countertop and resumes stirring his pot of sauce. Maybe he could ask you over for a meal? His eyes drift back to his phone. Stop. No. Fuck. You are driving him crazy. He shuts his phone away in a kitchen drawer and goes to eat his dinner.

After successfully ignoring the strong pull coming from the kitchen drawer, Minho takes a shower, rubs one out to the thought of you on the interrogation table, then settles down on his couch to open his laptop.

He sighs and rubs his eyes, willing himself to focus, while Soonie decides it's the perfect time for pats. “What a cute little pussy, hmm.” Minho coos as it tries to climb onto his laptop as he reads the notes for his upcoming threesome. But it’s not long until his eyes drift towards his kitchen, to where his phone is still sitting in the drawer.

“Fuck it”. He says, sliding out from under his cat. He can’t think of anything else but messaging or calling you. He can’t focus on this next assignment. Fuck, he could barely think about his dinner without his mind drifting off to wondering how your sweet cunt would taste.

He doesn’t care if he looks desperate. Fuck, he is desperate. He opens the drawer and pulls out his phone, and after taking a deep, grounding breath, he dials your number.

>>>>>>>>>>>>

‘Resisted arrest. Force required to detain the suspect. However, once handcuffed she was extremely enthusiastic to obey. Her mouth was very skilled and cunt was cooperative.’ - Changbin

‘I will be keeping an eye on her to ensure she is arrested and questioned for any criminal activity she becomes involved in.’ - Minho

‘The suspect was easily coerced into double penetration, climaxing multiple times. She was displeased when we removed our penises from her to restrain her to the ceiling chains, but settled once we were back inside her.

The suspect is the most responsive we have encountered so far, and is definitely a favorite.’ - Hyunjin

‘How we ended up with the prettiest suspect in the world I will never know! Her pussy is the most perfect I have ever felt. So tight, warm and soaking wet.’ Han

‘CONCERNS: Detective Lee Minho.’ - Chan

“Fucking hell.” You whistle low, closing the police report. “Chief Chan is concerned with Minho?” you mumble to yourself. Was he not acting his usual self with you? Did the Chi-, Chan, know about the kiss?

You have done absolutely nothing since arriving home from the police station several hours ago. Except for looking through your file and reliving all those beautiful cocks that filled you up perfectly. You’re still buzzing from the entire experience, and you’re not quite ready to come back to reality. 

You flick to the photos Felix took of you. He was right, they are beautiful. Erotic even. You bite your lip as your eyes run over your bruises, bites marks, and injuries. You feel a pulsing sensation in your core. You need to touch yourself. Already? You say to your pussy, looking down in disbelief.

You gather all the items you need - a vibrating anal plug, lube, and your thickest dildo, and climb into bed. You moan when you press a lubed finger to your ass. As usual, it doesn’t take long until you’ve slipped a finger inside, preparing yourself to take the plug. Once you deem yourself ready, you push the plug inside and turn on the vibrator. Your breath quickens as the stretch, fullness and vibrations combined begin to send you feral.

You play with your clit. Rough, fast motions, all while your mind visualizes the photographs Felix took. You’re going to come hard and fast, but you want to prolong it. You slow your fingers right down to rubbing lazy circles on your clit, allowing your body to calm down.

You reach for the dildo and drench it in lube. Not that you need it, your pussy is absolutely dripping in arousal. You open your legs wider and push the dildo deep into your vagina. You cry out at the intrusion, your walls barely having time to adjust before you’re pulling it out and ramming it back inside you. Again, harder. You whimper from the pleasure-pain. You reach behind you and increase the speed of the anal vibrator, then you start to tug on it, stretching your anus slightly.

“Fuck!” You moan, feeling yourself about to climax. “Close. So fucking close.” You babble to yourself. You’re almost there. The point of no return. Your body tenses, your legs shake.

Your phone rings.

Your eyes shoot open and you grab your phone. Minho! A video call? Fuck. You scramble to sit up, fix your hair, and forgetting you are naked, you answer the phone.

Minho’s eyes almost pop out of his head, but he recovers quickly. “Nice tits, kitten.” He smirks.

Your arm quickly comes to cover yourself. 

“Hey, it’s not like I haven’t seen absolutely everything.” He teases. “Anyway, I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time - actually, what are you doing? You’re all flushed.” His eyes narrow.

“Nothing!” You squeak. 

“I don’t believe you.” he quips.

“Okay, fine I was masturbating.” You roll your eyes.

“Really? Already? Aren’t you sore?” 

“Nope. I'm fine.”

“Show me.”

“What?” You say shocked.

“I said show me.” He repeats seriously.

Nervously, You position the camera so he can see how wet you are.

“Fuck! You’ve got a plug in. Have you come yet?” He says in disbelief.

“Nope. Was almost there when you called. It’s like you knew.” You pouted.

“Oh kitten. Fuck. Such a good girl waiting for me before coming. Or is it you can’t come without me, hmm?”

“S’hard to come without someone watching.” You sulk, playing along.

“Fuck! Lucky I called. Go on. Play with yourself.”

You start to rub your clit again. Every so often you dip your fingers inside you to gather some wetness then bring it up to your clit.

“Have you got something you can fuck yourself with?” Minho says in a deep voice. 

You reach for your thick dildo and resume fucking yourself like you were doing earlier.

“Deeper. Wanna see you take it deeper.” Minho instructs. 

You want to obey, be a good girl for him, so you push the dildo in further so it hits your cervix on every thrust. “Need to come, Minho. Need to come.” You cry, thrusting into yourself frantically. “S’close..”

“I can hear how wet you are, kitten. That’s it, rub your clit. Good girl. I want you to imagine that’s me inside you.”

“Oh, God. Oh, fuck!” You whimper. “Let me come.”

“Scream for me, y/n.”

You explode into a million pieces, screaming, just as Minho demanded. Your body shakes for what feels like an eternity as waves upon waves of pleasure wash over you.

Eventually, you collapse on your mattress in exhaustion, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you try and catch your breath.

“Fuck. You alright?” Minho laughs softly.

“No.” You choke. “So intense.”

“Well, glad I got to see that. Luckily I called when I did.”

“Why did you call?” You pick up your phone so you can look at him.

He runs his hands through his hair. “Oh yeah. So, um, the reason I actually called was to see if you maybe wanted to come over for dinner one night?”

You’re taken by surprise. Minho wants to have dinner with you?

“I mean, it’s okay if you don’t. It’s probably not wh-”

“I’d love to.” You smile.

“Yeah?” He says in disbelief.

“Yeah.”

>>>>>>

“This looks delicious, Minho. You have lots of skills it seems.” You say grinning at the plate of pasta and bolognese in front of you. Your eyes almost roll back into your head when you take a bite. “Oh my god. This is fucking amazing!” you say with a mouthful of food. “Did you make the pasta from scratch?”

Minho smiles triumphantly. “Yes. The sauce too. Glad you like it.”

“It’s delicious.”  You grin and try your best to not scoff the entire plate down in one mouthful. 

“You look beautiful tonight.” He says gazing at you. You feel a heat flush over you. You aren’t particularly dressed up, opting for a nice top and denim shorts. You hoped it would be suitable enough for the occasion.

“Thank you. I think it’s the first time you’ve seen me in clothing?” You laugh. “You look good too.” You notice his cheeks flush a little.

“So,” You put your fork down. “How is it you came to be in your…um…profession?” You ask curiously.

Minho sits back in his chair, and pauses in thought. “Well, Chan started the business with Jisung - Han - and Changbin. Business grew quicker than they expected and so they needed to hire more staff.”

“Interesting. But what made you join?” You lean your elbows on the table, resting your chin in your hands. You’re curious to know more.

“Hmm. I suppose I thought it would make life easier, sexually speaking. It’s hard to find a partner that wants both a sex life like mine and also a sickly sweet romantic dynamic. It was too confusing for my previous partners. The ones I could see myself having a future with were put off by my tendencies. So I joined the group and got my satisfaction there. And it’s thrilling to please client’s who share similar desires. It really is.”

“But what about the sickly sweet romance? You don’t get that in the job.”

Minho shrugs. “I guess not. But at least I don’t keep being rejected by women this way.”

You can’t believe how anyone could reject Minho. He is kind and thoughtful. Very domesticated. You look around at his tidy home and then at the meal on your plate. But you get what he means. You know it too well.

“So have you got your next contract?” You ask, wiggling your eyebrows.

He cracks a huge grin. “Yeah. I do.”

“Well? What is it? What do you have to do?” Your eyes widen with enthusiasm.

“Hey, hey, Kitten.” He holds his hands up in a bid to calm you down. “That’s confidential.”

“Oh come on, it’s not like I know them. Please.” You bat your eyelids.

“Okay, fine. It’s a threesome.” he concedes.

“A threesome? Yes, go ahead. Tell me more..” You gesture for him to continue.

“The exact wording of the brief is ‘I want someone in me, and someone inside him.’ Okay maybe that wasn’t the exact wording, but you get the gist.”

Your mouth hangs open in excitement. “So you’re telling me—”

“Jisung’s going to be in the client’s vagina, and I am going to be in Jisung’s ass.” He states.

“Woah! So you guys fuck each other too?” You shriek.

“Sometimes.” 

“Wait! I could’ve asked for you to fuck each other? Oh man, no one told me that.” You sit back and scowl.

“Well, you’ll have to book us again.” He teases.

“I just might. So who have you fucked in the group?” You ask excitedly, taking another mouthful of pasta.

“Jisung, a few times. Chan too.” He says matter of fact.

“Chan?! No way! Has anyone fucked you?” You say with your mouth full.

“Chan. Seungmin.”

“Seungmin?” You almost choke.

“It was an experience. Although you know perfectly well how he likes to fuck an ass.”

You nod laughing, then falling quiet as the image of Seungmin inside Minho flashes through your mind. Jisung too. He’d look so pretty being ruined by Minho.

“Are you okay?” He asks, trying to meet your gaze.

“Yeah. Just trying to work out my next fantasy request for you guys. I quite like the idea of someone in me, someone in them, another in my mouth, then everyone else inside each other.”

“Do you now? I might have to keep a mental note of that.” Minho’s eyes sparkle deviously.

>>>>

“That really was a delicious meal, Minho. Thank you for cooking.” You say placing your empty plate by the sink. “Would you like me to lend a hand washing up?” You start looking for dishwashing detergent and sponges.

Minho’s arms wrap around you from behind and he nuzzles his mouth into your neck. You smile at the warm gesture. 

“I’d like you to lend a hand with something else.” He whispers against your ear. “But first.” He spins you around and presses your back against the bench. “I’ve been dying to kiss these lips all night.” he smashes down on you in a heated kiss, setting your insides on fire.

He pulls back to peel your top off over your head and throws it to the side. Then he’s unclasping your bra with skilled fingers, and that’s gone from your body in a matter of moments.

You suck in a breath as he leans down to take a nipple in his mouth, nipping at it rough and urgently. Your head lolls back and you sigh. Your hands find the top of his head, weaving your fingers through his hair and pulling him closer. He bites down hard on your nipple and you whimper. Your core throbs for more of his roughness.

He comes up for air, a smear of blood across his lip, and kisses you wildly. “Turn around.” He growls, turning you so you’re facing away from him. Reaching into a drawer, he pulls out a pair of handcuffs and tugs on your arms so they are above your head. He threads the cuffs through the overhead cupboard handle and attaches them to your wrists. You tug on the restraints, but they are extremely secure, and now you are at the mercy of Detective Minho.

“Look at you.” He whispers as he cups a breast and squeezes it. “Looks like you need questioning again, hmm?” he snarls and your cunt squeezes.

Silently, he moves to the pantry, scanning the shelves. He nods when he finds what he’s looking for, a bottle of fractionated coconut oil. He takes it from the shelf and returns to resume his interrogation.

He sets the bottle of oil on the countertop and crouches behind you to yank your shorts and panties down your legs. He guides you step out of them. Leaving you naked and chained to his kitchen cupboard. 

You poke your ass out as he slides his palms up the backs of your thighs, finding their grip on your cheeks and spreading you wide. You’re dripping wet. You know it. You can feel it, and the grunt that Minho emits tells you he knows you're soaking. The need for him to touch you is too great and you make some pathetic noise. But he simply stands back up, leaving your deprived pussy untouched.

He reaches into the kitchen drawer again, pulling out a silicone spatula and places that next to the oil. Then to your delight he strips off his own clothes so he is naked too. You lick your lips and take in the magnificent form that is Lee Minho.

“Oh you like that, hmm? Too bad you’re unable to touch me.” He smirks as he unscrews the bottle of coconut oil and applies some to his hands.

You moan as he runs his oiled hands down your back and over your ass, then whimper as he kneads the skin near your hips. He repeats the motion, slicking up your body with the oil and massaging your breasts and eventually your pussy. 

“Fuck! Yes. Min. God.” You choke when he slides a finger inside you. You grind back against him, only for him to remove his hand and leave you empty. Your eyes follow his hand as it grasps the handle of the spatula, then you feel him dragging it down your spine.

Slap!

He hits you hard on your ass. You moan, digging your teeth into your lip. 

He gently strokes you with the spatula to sooth the skin, then he pulls it back.

Slap!

He massages the red skin with his free hand. 

“God, so fucking red. So pretty.”

Slap!

You cry out louder, the sting so much more harsh than the last.

And again. Slap! 

You whimper, your legs feeling like jelly.

Minho is about to land another blow when a voice from the living room interrupts you.

You both freeze.

“Hey, Hyung? I had an idea for our — Woah!” Jisung stops in his tracks as he rounds the corner into the kitchen. “Oh fuck I’m sorry! I didn’t realize…wait… Y/n? Is that you?” His eyes narrow as you turn your head sheepishly. 

“Hi Han, Jisung? Can I call you that?” You smile, like nothing is happening.

Jusung blinks rapidly. Then he looks at Minho who is standing in the middle of the kitchen naked and outraged, and then back at you. Finally his gaze settles on your bright red bottom.

“Yah!” Yells Minho, throwing a tea towel over your rear end to try to offer some sort of coverage.

“Hyung, Man, it’s not like I haven’t seen all of her before. Hey! Actually, what is she doing here?” Jisung’s tone turns accusatory.

Minho glares at him. It’s all it takes for Jisung to concede. He throws his hands up “Okay, I’m leaving. Even though it looks like a lot of fun and… you know I could sit on the floor underneath her… suck her clit while you continue doing your dominant thing… No? Okay. Well. I’ll go. Bye Y/n.” He waves at you. 

“Bye, Jisung. Lovely to see you again.” You wink at him and the tea towel slips off, giving the stunned man a last view of you before Minho is ushering him out.

“You did that on purpose, kitten.” He growls, returning to the kitchen and pulling your head back by your hair. “Bet you wanted me to let him stay, huh?” 

“No…of course not. Just want you.” You whine. The reality though, is that you would have loved to feel Jisung’s mouth against your pussy. You close your eyes at the thought and squeeze your legs together.

Minho notices it and scoffs. “I know you’re lying. Which means… punishment.”

Once again he goes to the kitchen draw, this time taking out a wooden spoon and silicone coated tongs. Your eyes widen. 

“Five. You’ll receive five strikes with the wooden spoon. If you say orange or red, I stop immediately.” He gives his hand an experimental slap with the item. “Then,” he picks up the tongs, holding them in the air and letting them spring open.

You cunt clenches. The fact that Minho remembers you have a stretch kink makes your heart beat faster.  

He makes his way behind you and you prepare yourself for the wooden spoon.

“You have to count for me.” He states.

He brings the wooden spoon down onto your already sore ass with a hard slap. Your legs almost give way. “One.” you cry.

He strikes you again and again. A loud slap fills the room each time the wood makes contact with your skin. Tears stream down your face and you can barely count, each number coming out like a choked sob. 

“F-five.” You cry out the final number.

Minho returns the wooden spoon to the bench, then holds you in his arms. His hard, naked body against yours is comforting, his words of praise are soothing.

“Good girl. You took that so well.” He whispers, kissing your shoulder and massaging where he’d spanked you. “How was it? Not too much?” he checks in with you. “How are you feeling?”

“S’good..S’wet…Aching…p-pussy needs filling up. Need to come.” you babble.

Minho chuckles, his eyes smiling with admiration. “I’ll make sure you’re taken care of. One last thing before I fuck you. I know you can take it.”

He drizzles the end of the tongs with oil, then crouches down behind you. He holds the tongs closed and runs them through your glistening labia. You let out a moan. Then he catches your clit. He allows the tongs to open just enough so can capture it, pinching it hard. 

Jolts of arousal shoot through you and you cry out.

Then you feel the tongs at your entrance and you automatically push your ass out further, giving Minho more access. Keeping the tongs closed, he slides them inside you. You must look so filthy with a pair of kitchen utensils shoved up your vagina. 

He’s not gentle when he fucks you with them. He’s messy, sloppy, rough, but he manages to find your g-spot every time. You’re surely about to come, but he slows down, bringing the tongs to a standstill. You whimper, frustrated from having your orgasm stolen from you. Then you feel it. The tongs opening inside you. 

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” You cry.

“Color?”

“Green. Fucking green.” You scream.

He chuckles as he scissors you open. 

“Fuck.” He hisses. His free hand spreads your cheek wide. “Pussy’s so good when it’s stretched like this.”

“Maybe you should’ve been a doctor.” You pant.

“Sometimes I am darlin’. You wait till I use a real speculum on this pretty cunt. Open you right up so I can see inside.”

His fingers land on your clit. The added sensation has you on the verge of release. “Minho… please. Need to come.” You beg.

“Yeah? Pussy needs to come, huh? Do it.” He starts an onslaught of scissoring then thrusting, while his deft fingers on your clit tighten that coil inside you.

You're perspiring, shaking, sobbing as you’re thrown off the precipice in an earth shattering orgasm.

“That’s it. Making a mess for me. Mmm… can hardly move these tongs you’re gripping so tight.”

You can’t even respond, your panting and shivering so hard, barely able to stand.

He eases the utensil out of you, tossing them into the kitchen sink, along with the items he used to cook for you earlier, then he’s lining himself up to your entrance.

“Just relax for me. Yes… fuck yes… that’s my girl… let me in…” he pushes himself all the way inside you. You welcome the smooth silky hardness against your walls, and he slides in and out with ease, despite your tight grip on him. 

Holding onto your hips he fucks into you harder until he’s built up a brutal pace that reminds you of when you were in the interrogation room. Except this time, he leans his body against your back and massages your breasts, caresses your stomach, and plants hot wet kisses anywhere his mouth can reach.

The roughness and the softness combined sends all sorts of unfamiliar feelings through your body. You like it, it feels good, and you feel tears pricking your eyes. You’re going to come again. Any second now the tension is going to snap.

“You take me so well, Kitten. It's like you were made for me.”

That does it. You come hard around his cock with a loud wailing sound. He fucks you through it, chasing his own orgasm. “Gonna fill you. Gonna fill this perfect little cunt. My cunt.” He slams into you, almost knocking you off your feet then pulls out. He quickly works on freeing your wrists, turning you and lifting you up. Your legs wrap around his waist as he impales you on his cock, fucking you whilst he makes his way to the dining table.

He lays you down on the table, and starts to slam into you hard again. His rhythm is hard, fast, and so so deep. “Gonna fill you..” he growls as he throws his head back and empties himself inside you. He stills, but you can still feel him pulsing and filling you to the brim.

He leans over you, collapsing on your chest, and you bring your arms around him, holding him silently for a few minutes.

“Let’s go wash you.” He says eventually, pulling himself out, picking you up and carrying you to the bathroom.

Once the temperature of the water is comfortable, he helps you climb in with him and proceeds to wash your body.

It isn’t long until you’ve regained your composure and are able to stand steady on your feet. It’s only now that you can take in the man before you. You take the sponge from him, lather it up with body wash and start to wash his body. With a look of surprise and a hint of hesitation, he lets out an exhale and allows you to wash him.

He watches you as you run the sponge over his chest, down his torso, and drop to your knees in front of him. You swear you hear him whimper when your eyes land on his cock.

You drop the sponge and place your hands on his strong thighs. You need him in your mouth. He cups your cheek, tilting your head up to meet his gaze, and through hooded eyelids you silently seek permission to take care of him. He releases your chin and lets out a shaky breath when you wrap your hand around the base of his semi erect cock. Slowly, you lick the length of the underside. Then swirl your tongue around the tip. He grows rapidly, and it has you dying to choke on it.

Minho simply stands still while you work his cock, providing absolutely no help. But that doesn’t deter you. Or slow you down. You decide you’re going to choke on him all by yourself. You pop off with a plop, fill your lungs with air, then take him fully into your mouth. Cupping his delicious ass cheeks with your hands, you pull him towards you while you bob your head up and down his shaft. 

You hear his breath become heavier, and a hand wraps around your wet hair, his other he rests against the tiled wall behind you. 

“Look at you. So hungry for cock, you’re choking yourself.” He purrs. “I’m close… fuck, im so close.” His hips begin to press forwards, pushing his dick further into your throat. He cums quickly, spurting thick ropes cum into your mouth. “Holy shit!” He chokes as he empties himself.

After you’ve milked him of every drop and swallowed him down, he pulls you back to your feet. He looks almost bewildered when he looks into your eyes. “Y/n. How are you so perfect for me?” He whispers. 

You swallow hard. You’re thinking something similar about him. Instead, you shrug. “Well I’m not sure detective. Maybe you’ll have to investigate further?” you quip.

He chuckles. “Maybe it's better to just go with it and not question it.”

You nod in agreement. “Let’s not overthink it, then.”

You both dry off, and Minho leads you to his bed, a big King size bed with black sheets and a black quilt. 

“Oh, you’re not sending me on my way?” You tease.

”Fuck no. I need…need to hold you.” He says softly, pulling you onto the bed with him.

He falls asleep quickly with his arms around you and your head on his chest. His steady breath is soothing as his chest rises and falls. You’re not sure what is happening, how this man seems to be able to fill so many of your needs, or how easy he is to be around. Yet here you are, and you’re thankful you took a chance with the sex fantasy agency. 

Your thoughts shift to Minho’s next assignment. Jisung in some woman’s cunt, and Minho in Jisung. Fuck, that sounds like a dream. Then your mind goes to Jisung walking in on you and Minho earlier. What would have happened if Minho asked him to stay?

You sigh, feeling confused. You've got strong feelings for Minho, yet you feel yourself grow wet at the thought of Jisung, and the rest of them.

You find Minho’s hand and thread your fingers through his. That’ll be a problem for future you. Right now you’re ready to fall asleep in the arms of someone that finally accepts you for who you are.

>>>>>>

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[jensengirl83]

Pining In The Pines

Dean x reader

Word count-3843

Warnings- Angst, some fluff

Summary- Y/N and the boys have to go on a hunt in her old hometown. She's not happy to go home, and especially not when Dean makes a comment that brings up bad memories. How will she take it? And will Dean be able to make it right?

A/N- This fills my Secret Passageway square for @jacklesversebingo

First, I suck at summaries 😂 Second, this fic is a little self-indulgent. I've written it about where I'm actually from and the stigma about the people in this area. I really hope you like it!

“So, get this,” Sam started the conversation as he looked at his laptop. 

Y/N couldn’t stop the giggle that bubbled in her chest. It never failed. When he found a hunt, the first words out of his mouth were, ‘So, get this.’ That’s how she and Dean knew to stop and pay attention. He had something they needed to hear. So, she tried to contain her laughter and give Sam the attention he wanted. 

“Y/N…Do you have to laugh every single time?” Sam groaned but didn’t wait for a response, continuing with what he wanted to say, “There’s supposedly been a Wendigo spotted in Morehead, Kentucky. Homeowners caught it on their security camera for their driveway.”

“Morehead…Isn’t that close to where you grew up, sweetheart?” Dean wondered, looking over at the huntress beside him. 

“It’s a few counties over, but yeah, it’s close enough. Did you say there was footage?” she questioned, leaning forward to look at Sam’s laptop as he spun it around for her and Dean to see. 

Her breath caught in her throat as Dean put his hand on her lower back as he leaned forward to watch the video. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, she had fallen in love with the eldest Winchester. But how was she supposed to be around him, living in the bunker with him, and not fall head over heels? 

It was true that he had a temper, could be a real grump, and be downright mean sometimes. But, over the years, she’d learned that his temper flared most when someone he cared about was in danger. He would be grumpy when the weight of the world had gotten almost too heavy to bear, and he tried to push it down and keep it bottled up. He was mean when he thought he needed to push someone he cared about away because he was the one putting them in danger. To her, that was just the sign of a man who had been hurt, a man who loved deeply, one who cared so much that the thought of losing someone he loved was unbearable. So, how was she not going to fall for him at some point? 

But that’s as far as it went. She would never admit her feelings. She couldn’t. The likely rejection would be her end, and she would have to leave the bunker. She’d rather pine for him in tortuous silence than not have him in her life at all. So, as always, she shoved her feelings back down, focusing on the screen in front of her, and prepared for the hunt she knew was coming. 

“Earth to Y/N,” Dean nudged her, clearly seeing she was in her own little world. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m watching,” she rolled her eyes, trying to hide that she was fantasizing about the green-eyed Adonis. 

“Where was that pretty little head of yours?” he teased, his words making her heart ache. If only he really thought that way. 

“Just thinking of what I’ll need to pack. ‘Cause we’re clearly going to Kentucky, am I right?” she lied, hoping they would buy it. 

“Yeah, we have to check this out. I’ve never heard of a Wendigo this far east before,” Sam answered, getting Dean’s attention away from her. Thank Chuck. 

“There’s a lot of things in the Appalachian mountains that no one knows about. Trust me, you don’t want to be caught in those woods alone after dark,” she shivered at the thought. 

“Don’t tell me you’re scared of the dark?” Dean tried to tease, but she gave him a stern look that made him think twice. 

“You should know that I’m not scared of the dark. I follow you into some of the darkest, creepiest places on earth. But, I grew up there, Dean. It’s not even just the monsters you have to worry about. I mean, there are bears, mountain lions, wolves…” she trailed off, not wanting to mention some of the crazy people that live in those mountains. 

“Okay, okay,” Dean huffed, throwing his hands up in mock surrender, “I get it.” 

“You better. You have to keep your head on a swivel while we’re in the woods. I’d hate to have to save your sorry ass from the real-life Yogi Bear,” she winked, “Because your ass will be the picnic basket.” 

Dean crossed his arms over his chest, annoyed at her sarcasm as Sam laughed. Even though she was crazy in love with him, she could give him shit right back. And to be honest, she thoroughly enjoyed frustrating him. As she saw it, it was payback for him making her love him in the first place. She continued to chuckle as she went to her room to pack. Y/N didn’t like the thought of going home. Too many memories she’d like to forget. But duty calls, so she was packing her bags for the long drive to southeast Kentucky. 

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I highly doubt there’s a Wendigo here. They don’t stay in the wide-open woods,” Dean complained while trekking through the mountains. 

“Dean, do you not know anything about the topography of Kentucky?” Y/N asked, shaking her head in annoyance. He’d been in a mood all day. 

“Yes, sweetheart. I spend all my free time studying the layout of a state I rarely ever visit,” his sarcasm made her want to smack him in the head. 

“Well, dear,” she said just as sarcastically, “Kentucky is known for its underground cave systems. You know, Mammoth Cave. One of the biggest cave systems in the world…”  

“Of course! Because spelunking is high on my to-do list!” 

“Oh! Look at him, Sam. He’s using big boy words like spelunking. I’m so proud of you, Dean!” she half shouted at him. Trying to keep her voice down so as not to attract unwanted attention to whatever was out there. 

“Guys! Knock it off. We’re here to kill a Wendigo. Not for you two to kill each other!” Sam exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration. 

“She started it,” Dean whined, acting like a child. 

“Fuck off, Dean,” she growled as she walked ahead of them. Leading them to the caves she knew were close. 

Y/N ignored the bickering between the brothers behind her as she made her way through the trees. She loved Dean, but today, she thought about leaving him in one of the caves they found. He’d been an ass since they woke up at the motel, and she couldn’t figure out what had his boxers in a bunch. They’d had to share a bed, but she didn’t think he’d be that pissed about that, but she wouldn’t put anything past him at that point. But, whatever it was, it tempted her to make him Wendigo lunch. 

“Slow down, Y/N. We’re not born and raised hillbillies like you are. It’s taking us a little longer to navigate this hellscape,” Dean yelled, grumbling under his breath about her getting too far ahead. 

Y/N froze. That was the last straw. Yes, she’d been born and raised in the area, but that word…Hillbilly. She’d been trying to get rid of that stigma since she left the mountains, and now hearing Dean, the man she loved, call her that derogatory term was too much to take. 

“Let me tell you something, asshole! Yeah, I grew up here, but I’m not a fucking hillbilly! I’ll have you know not everyone who lives in Appalachia are backwoods, uneducated, rednecks! So, take that term, and shove it straight up your ass!” she screamed, her anger boiling over into dangerous territory. 

Before either of the boys could say a word, a guttural, terrifying growl tore through the darkening woods. Y/N spun around to see what they’d been there to find. The Wendgio was only about thirty feet behind her, moving in quickly. Sam shouted for her to get behind him, breaking her out of her stupor. Once she’d cleared his line of sight, Sam grabbed his homemade flamethrower, flicking his lighter to ignite it, but nothing happened. He tried again but to no avail. Y/N’s screams tore through the night air…

“Run! Follow me!” 

The boys were quick at her heels as she weaved them in and out of the trees and underbrush. Dean couldn’t help but think about how impressed he was at her agility in that terrain. He could tell she’d grown up here and knew her way around, which brought him to his next thought. How guilty he felt for saying what he had. But now was not the time to apologize. Right now, he had to concentrate on not losing sight of her and getting shredded to pieces by the monster on their tails.  

“Here! Guys, hurry!” she shouted, an old moonshining cabin in her sight. 

Once she reached the cabin, she flung open the door, waiting for the boys to enter before slamming it shut, silently praying that the rickety lock would hold just long enough to devise a plan. 

“What the hell happened back there?” Dean asked, hands on his knees as he panted for breath. 

“I don’t know! The flamethrower has never not worked before,” Sam answered with the same labored breathing as his brother. 

“Well, we can figure that out later. Now, we need to figure out how to stay alive!” Y/N yelled, panic starting to set in. 

“Calm down, sweetheart. We’ll be okay,” Dean tried to calm her down, but she was still too angry with him. 

“Don’t! Do not ‘sweetheart’ me! You had no right to talk to me like that!” 

“Look, swe- Y/N, I’m sorry. But I don’t understand why that made you so mad,” Dean spoke as he looked around the cabin for something to use as a makeshift weapon. 

“That was a shit apology, Winchester. Just…just don’t speak to me until we get out of this mess,” she groaned, then mumbled, “If we live through this mess.” 

“Hey!” Dean shouted, getting her attention, “We are getting out of this. Don’t talk like that.” 

“Can you tell me how you plan to get us out of here? Cause I don’t see another way out except through the door that Wendigo is now trying to beat down!” 

As she walked toward Dean, her foot almost went through the floor, or at least it felt like it. She stopped, pushing down with her foot one more time. The bounce under her foot had her laughing loudly, and the boys looked at her like she’d lost her mind. Dean spoke as she started to rip the rug she stood on out of the way. 

“Care to tell us what you find so funny?” 

“This!” she continued to laugh in relief as she pointed to the hatch in the floor where she’d been standing, “It’s our way out!” 

“How do you know that? It could be just an old cellar,” Sam asked, walking over to inspect what she’d found. 

“Well, as Dean so nicely put it, us hillbillies would dig secret passageways to transport the moonshine back and forth without the police seeing them. They almost always lead to an abandoned coal mine or cave opening. Sometimes other cabins.” 

“Y/N, come on, I tried to apologize. I didn’t know it would upset you that much,” Dean threw his hands up in exasperation. 

“Well, it did, and…” she started to argue when Sam interrupted them. 

“Maybe you two can finish this fight once we know we’re not going to die? Let’s go!” 

Y/N and Dean simultaneously rolled their eyes. Sam would have told them they were two peas in a pod if they weren’t in such a hurry to save their asses. Y/N was the first one down the ladder, explaining that she’d be their best bet for not getting completely lost underground, and neither brother disagreed. Dean followed, with Sam on his heels. Once they were underground, Y/N led the way, and the boys were impressed with how well she could get around in the tunnels. 

After what seemed like a lifetime, Dean was going to ask if she really knew where she was going, but before he could open his mouth, they turned a corner and could see a light up ahead in the tunnel's ceiling. Y/N was climbing the ladder through another hatch before Dean knew what was happening. Maybe her nickname should be Squirrel instead of him, he chuckled to himself. As the last brother made it out of the tunnel and into another cabin, Y/N slammed the hatch, pushing an old, heavy piece of furniture over it. Luckily, this one was still quite furnished, with beds still in the bedrooms and an old couch in front of a fireplace. 

“This is home until morning,” she stated, looking around, finding, albeit dusty, pillows and blankets in a closet.

“Better than nothing,” Sam shrugged, walking into one of the bedrooms and shutting the door, leaving only one bedroom for her and Dean. 

“Looks like we’re sharing again, sweetheart,” Dean chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. 

“Nah, take the bed. I’ll take the couch,” she whispered, not looking at him. Damn, she was still mad. 

“I’m not taking a bed and putting you on an old debilitated couch, Y/N.” 

“It’s fine. My adrenaline is still too high to sleep. Besides, I’ll keep watch so you can get some rest. You have to drive us back to the bunker tomorrow. I can sleep in the car.” 

“Y/N…” 

“No, Dean, it’s fine. Please, just take the bed. I’m too tired to argue,” she almost begged, wanting to be alone. 

“I thought you said you weren’t tired?” he smirked, trying to joke, but she wasn’t having it. 

“I’m mentally exhausted. I just need time to myself to wind down. Now, please, go get some sleep so we can get the hell out of here in the morning,” she pleaded, the look on her face breaking his heart. He had really hurt her with what he said. 

“Okay, sweetheart. Good night,” he said dejectedly, knowing it would be a sleepless night. His guilt would make sure of it. 

“Night,” she replied, turning her back to him, sitting down on the couch, staring out the window, never glancing his way. The click of the door made her wince as Dean went to bed.

Sleepless night was an understatement. Dean’s eyes didn’t close once as he lay there thinking how wrong the day had gone. He and Y/N had argued since their feet hit the floor that morning. Him being an ass was the reason for it. He hated fighting with her, but when he woke that morning, she was curled up at his side, her head on his chest. Usually, a man wouldn't complain about having a beautiful woman wrapped around him, but it tends to put you in a pissy mood when it’s a woman you love but can’t have. 

Dean was ass over tea kettle for Y/N, but he’d never tell her that. She deserved so much better than being saddled with a man who could barely stand his own company most days. He drank too much, and he wasn’t good at communicating how he felt. He knew that. Sam had told him many times he needed to learn to open up, but he didn’t want to burden anyone with the shitshow that was his mind. Especially her. So, as with his other emotions, he pushed his love for her deep and tried to ignore it. Lately, that hadn’t been working so well. As he lay there telling himself all the reasons he couldn’t have her, a sound caught his attention. He tiptoed to the door, cracking it slowly, and what he saw had him rushing out the door. 

“Y/N, sweetheart, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” he quizzed her as he rushed to her side, pulling her into his arms. Her sobs were what he’d heard. 

“I’m fine, Dean. Go back to bed,” she hiccuped through her tears. She couldn’t tell him the full truth. 

“Obviously, you are the opposite of fine. Talk to me.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” 

“Hey, look at me,” he whispered, placing her chin between his thumb and index finger to turn her face to him, “Is this about today?” 

“Partially,” she admitted, trying to turn her head back to the window, but his grip wouldn’t let her.

“Y/N…I’m so so sorry. I know I was being an ass, but I had no idea it would hurt your feelings like that. Can you explain to me why? I’m not trying to fight. I honestly don’t understand.” 

“I’ve tried to get rid of the ‘hillbilly’ stigma since I left this place. It's always the same thing whenever someone finds out where I’m from. There’s this image people have about people from the Appalachian mountains that just aren’t true. We’re not a bunch of ignorant, uneducated people who live deep in the woods and never come out. Unfortunately, movies and TV shows have depicted us in such a bad light that most people think that’s all we are. And when that term comes from the man you…” she gasped, catching what she almost said. But Dean caught it as well. 

“The man you what, Y/N?” he asked, holding his breath. Was she about to admit what he thought? Maybe, just maybe, he could try to be better, be the man she deserved if she loved him too. 

“Dean…” she whimpered, trying to turn away from him again, but he wasn’t letting her go now. 

“Uh uh, say it. Say it, Y/N,” he pleaded, his eyes staring into hers, “Were you going to say the man you loved?” 

“Yes! Okay? I was going to say the man I loved!” she shouted in frustration as she jumped from the couch, finally breaking Dean’s hold on her, “Now, go ahead and tell me that you don’t see me that way, tell me that you don’t want me, so I can prepare to pack my shit and leave when we get back to the bunker. Because I can’t stay there and see you every day after your rejection. I just can’t.” 

Dean stood and walked to her as she stood staring out the window, her back to him after her confession. He touched her shoulder, gently turning her to face him. Her look of sadness and despair nearly ripped his heart from his chest. He thought having his heart literally ripped out would hurt less than seeing her like this. He slid his hand up from her shoulder to cup her cheek. A tear trickled down her face as she closed her eyes at his touch, and he swiped it away with his thumb. 

“Is that what you want me to tell you, or do you want me to tell you the truth?” he asked softly, waiting for her to open her eyes, which didn’t take a split second. Her eyes went wide. 

“What are you saying?” she uttered shakily. 

“I’m saying that I love you, too, Y/N. I have for a long time.” 

“But, but,” she stuttered, trying to find her words, “You were so mad at me when we woke up this morning. That isn’t how someone acts when they love the person in bed with them.” 

“Sweetheart, I was mad because I opened my eyes to the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen curled up against me, and all I could think was how I wanted it to mean something, and I didn’t think it ever would. If I’m being honest, you could do so much better. And thinking I’d never have you that way pissed me off because I’ve never wanted someone as bad as I want you, Y/N. You’re my first thought when I wake up, and I fall asleep picturing you beside me. I know I’m not a good man, and there’s someone out there that could and would give you more than I’ll ever be able to, but if you really love me, I’m going to be selfish for one time in my fucking life and ask you to give me a chance. I can guarantee that I’m going to piss you off and probably hurt your feelings again, but it will never be intentional. So, what do you say? You want to give us a shot?” He poured his heart out to her, leaning his forehead against hers as he waited for an answer. 

“Dean, contrary to what you believe, you are a good man. You love with your whole being and fiercely protect those lucky enough to get that love. I know you don’t believe you deserve it, but you deserve the world, Dean Winchester, and I’d be honored to be the one to try and give it to you.” 

“Really?” he asked with a million-watt smile, leaning back to look her in the eye. 

“I’ve never wanted anything more,” she returned his smile, both sighing in relief. 

“Come here,” he growled, pulling her face to his and kissing her passionately. 

The kiss was better than either had imagined, and they both poured the love they felt for the other into it. They stayed that way until the need to breathe became too much, pulling away with smiles. He pulled her into a hug, laying his head on top of hers. They stayed silent for a few minutes before Dean broke the silence. 

“So, you want to move your stuff into my room when we get back? 

“I don’t know, Dean,” she pulled back, chewing on her bottom lip, “I really think we need to take this as slowly as possible. Make sure that we’re going to last.” 

“Oh, yeah, okay,” he agreed, his heart clenching at the hurt he felt. 

“I’m just joking,” she laughed, poking him in the ribs, “You’re not going to get rid of me now!” 

“Damn it, Y/N! That wasn’t funny! You almost gave me a heart attack,” he grumbled, not finding her joke all that funny. 

“I think I’m hilarious,” she smirked up at him. 

“You’re something, alright. Now, how about we both try to get some rest? We have a lot of packing to do when we get home,” he suggested, leading her toward the bedroom, “You have a lot of shit. I don’t know where we’re going to put it all.” 

“Ha ha,” she deadpanned, “Well, we could always get rid of your vinyl collection to make room.” 

“Hey! Those are fighting words,” he growled playfully, leaning down to nip at her bottom lip. 

“Bring it on, old man,” she cackled as his eyes shot up his forehead in shock. 

“I’ll show you an old man!” he said in faux anger, chasing her into the bedroom. 

All that could be heard as the bedroom door shut was the laughter and playful banter between the new couple, and that’s how it stayed for the years to come.

@flamencodiva​ @foxyjwls007​ @emoryhemsworth​ ​​ @valsworldofcreativity​​ @hardcoresupernaturalfans​​

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@muhahaha303​ @maggiegirl17​ @slamminmine​ @ladysparkles78 @deanwinchestersgirl27 ​

[quarterlifekitty]

Video Girl!AU

this is dumb as hell but i had to get it out there because i am so so so ill for ghoap

Soap did not remember this video store. He’s passed by this street hundreds of times— surely… he would’ve seen it. Then again, maybe heartbreak makes you see the world differently. The clerk hands him a member card with a smile, and a promise that they’d have what he needed.

Yeah, he was doubting that. He didn’t recognize any of these titles. But something catches his eye– a girl on the cover of a VHS. One that’s just his type– a cute face, a gorgeous body, and a teasing little smile.

He turns the lights off in his room, slotting the tape into the VCR. It makes a kinda clunky, scary noise but eventually loads up the movie. It’s got a production logo like it’s softcore porn, which it very well could be– that’s what you get for picking by the cover without reading the back. Not that he’d mind if it was.

The girl from the cover appears on the screen, just as radiant. Maybe more, now that she’s in motion. Her laugh sounds like bells– gentle, sweet, innocent.

“Thank you. Thank you for choosing my video! Oh, why do you look so sad?” What was this, some sort of girlfriend experience type of thing?

 “Oh, I see, unrequited love is it? Don’t let it get you down though, okay? They just don’t understand you. You’ve got a lot to offer another person. I know I’m not much, but. How would you feel about letting me be the one to cheer you up?”

Video girl’s got him right pegged. Though he supposes it's not an uncommon reason to rent a flick with a hot girl on the cover. He sighs. Her expression softens even more in sympathy, her eyebrows drawn in as she pouts on his behalf.

“ I see...it’s that bad huh...? Poor guy, there’s no way just a video is gonna help you…” Ain’t that the truth? Terrible way to get him to rent more tapes, though. An epiphany seems to strike the girl, and a smile spreads over her face.

“That’s it! I’ll stay with you for as long as it takes!”

Imagine being the girl from a video Soap rented while wallowing in his feelings. Rejected by Simon, for reasons he doesn’t understand. They got along so well– different from the other guys. But then again, judging from how Simon looks at Price whenever he steps into the room… Maybe he does know why he was rejected.

When you come from the screen, Johnny’s surprised none of his neighbors call the cops, because he screams bloody murder.

You vow to help him… to help him be less lonely. To help him get the guy he wants. For the one month that his rental lasts, at least.

When you meet the guys, Soap is able to put together some lie about you being a friend of his sister who’s staying with him while you’re in town.

It’s just your luck that Ghost has a sixth sense. Man knows there’s something strange about you. The otherworldly knows the otherworldly.

And to make matters worse… You’re supposed to be a world-class lover. A teasing, minxy girl who knows just how to make a man fall over himself and beg for more without breaking a sweat. Or, you would be– if you hadn’t been played on a broken VCR.

Now you’re so damned timid. Incredibly sensitive, shy, stuttering whenever you make eye contact with any guy that isn’t Soap. And to Ghost, it’s like smelling blood in the water.

He’s constantly cornering you, chatting you up, trying to fluster you. He hardly knows he’s doing it, sniffing you out and trying to get you to crack. Quite frankly, you’re doing a terrible job of getting the two of them together.

And when Soap sees this all happening… He feels like he’s supposed to be jealous of you. He is–but it isn’t just that. He’s jealous of both of you… and at the same time, seeing you together seems so natural-- and it turns him the fuck on.

[drowning-in-paragraphs]

PLAYING DANGEROUS

jude bellingham x gf!reader

warnings: tension, tension, tension... Maybe (a bit) toxic.

summary: After weeks of fighting over a campaign Jude worked on that sparked jealousy in you, your frustration grows as he dismisses your feelings. Fed up with being ignored, you decide to give him a taste of his own medicine. As expected, your boyfriend sees red—his control slipping as the night unfolds, and the tension between you two reaches its boiling point. But, of course, you are having so much fun.

The car ride was thick with an uncomfortable silence. Jude gripped the wheel, his jaw set, eyes fixed ahead. You could feel his frustration radiating off him, each sigh and subtle shift a quiet reminder of the tension simmering between you two. After all the back-and-forth arguments you’d had this week, you were both tired of hashing it out—but the hurt and resentment lingered.

You looked out the window, trying to lose yourself in the nightscape rushing by. The bright lights of the city blurred, but your mind was fixed on one image: that campaign photo. The one that had sparked this entire mess. Jude and a stunning model in a luxury campaign, his arm casually slung over her waist, their smiles too bright, too intimate. When you’d seen the ad, it had stung, but what has stung more was the behind the cameras videos. They had chemistry, and she was just as extroverted as him.

It hadn’t helped that when you’d brought it up to Jude, he brushed it off, rolling his eyes and calling you “dramatic” for making a big deal out of nothing. He’d practically laughed it off, leaving you feeling unheard and dismissed. That was the worst part: not just the jealousy, but the way he’d treated it as if it was meaningless.

“Can you not just sit there like I don’t exist?” Jude’s voice broke the silence, low but tight with irritation. “We’re going to this dinner. Can we just act like adults?”

You turned to him, biting your tongue to stop yourself from saying the first sharp thing that came to mind. You’d been here before, and you were too tired of the fighting to start again.

“Jude, you know why we are in this situation,” you said quietly. “I just wanted you to take me seriously and acknowledge my feelings.”

“Acknowledge?” he said, a hint of disbelief in his voice. “All I’ve done this whole week is listen to you accuse me of something I didn’t do. It’s a campaign. That’s it. Nothing more.” He resisted the urge to say, "End of discussion," and focused on the road ahead instead.

“But you didn’t make me feel like it was nothing, Jude. You made me feel like… like I’m stupid for even bringing it up. You think I don’t know that it’s part of your job?” Your voice quivered, and you hated that you sounded so emotional.

Jude’s face softened for a moment, but then he hardened his expression again, as if not wanting to give in. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I thought you knew me better than that, honestly.”

There it was—another subtle jab. The conversation felt like a seesaw, tipping between blame and defense, never quite reaching a point of understanding. You crossed your arms, pressing yourself against the passenger door, feeling miles away from him, though he was just a few feet to your left.

“I just wanted to feel like you cared that I was upset. That’s all. Not for you to laugh it off like it was something stupid.”

He clenched his jaw, as if forcing himself not to retort. His hands tightened on the wheel again. “Look, I get it now. You don’t trust me, and that’s fine. I’ll do my job, you can stay mad at me, and we’ll just keep doing this every week.” His voice dripped with sarcasm, and it hurt. “This is getting ridiculous...”

You two were tired of fighting, but something in you, something sharp and bruised, couldn’t let go of the last few days’ arguments. It wasn’t enough for him to be hurt. You wanted him to understand.

“Fine,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady but feeling anger prickle under your skin. “If it’s so ridiculous, then maybe I’ll make sure you get a taste of what that feels like. You’ll feel as ‘ridiculous’ as you’ve made me feel this week. We’ll see if it’s still a joke then.”

Jude’s head whipped toward you, a mix of shock and anger flashing across his face. “What? Are you serious right now?” His voice was tense, a low warning.

You felt a pang of guilt, but you held his gaze. “I just don’t think you’d understand it any other way.”

He scoffed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Unbelievable,” he muttered, shaking his head. He stared back at the road, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. The quiet between you was no longer uncomfortable but electric, charged with a bitterness that hadn’t been there before.

The car finally pulled up to the restaurant where you were supposed to meet your friends. The weight of what you’d just said hanging heavily between you. Jude cut the engine and just sat there, staring straight ahead, as if he didn’t trust himself to speak. You didn´t move either, not knowing what was he going to do. After a beat, he climbed out, moving around to your door without a word. When he opened it, he didn’t look at you, just held the door and waited for you to step out.

You could see the tension in his posture, his usual warmth and confidence replaced by a coldness that made your heart ache. But you were both too proud, too angry, to say anything.

As you neared the entrance, Jude’s hand shot out, gripping your waist with a firm possessiveness. The touch wasn’t gentle or affectionate as usual; it was more of a declaration. Despite the anger simmering between you, he wasn’t about to let you carry out your threat to make him jealous. You tensed at his touch, your own anger rising as you felt him draw you in as if he could control you with a single motion.

Without thinking, you shrugged him off, shoving him away just enough to make your point. Jude halted, cursing under his breath, as he fought to keep his temper in check. The sharp click of the car lock sounded behind you as he pocketed the key, jaw clenched, but his eyes held yours for a moment. You both understood each other’s challenge, an unspoken line drawn that neither of you wanted to cross but couldn’t seem to avoid.

With your heads held high and expressions perfectly composed, you stepped into the restaurant, slipping on your masks of calm as you approached your friends. Your forced smiles and quiet greetings betrayed none of the tension between you, and you fell into the comfortable rhythm of small talk.

Back at the table, the spark of defiance inside you had turned into a full flame. Watching Jude as he laughed and charmed his way through conversations, acting as if your argument had never occurred, only fueled that fire. He didn´t get to act as if nothing happened. His face was relaxed, his posture easy—but you knew him well enough to sense the barely hidden tension in his movements, the occasional dart of his eyes toward you, checking, warning.

Fine, you thought. If he wanted to pretend everything was fine, you'd go along with it. In fact, you’d be the most composed person at the table. But where was the fun in that?

You turned your attention to the friend sitting beside you, leaning closer with an easy smile as you laughed at his stories. Your hand brushed against his as you reached for your drink, letting it linger just a second longer than usual. The warmth of his arm pressed lightly against yours as you angled your body toward him, giving him your full attention. Jude was watching, and you knew he was watching. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see his mouth tighten, his easygoing demeanor slipping just a bit. His brows furrowed, and whatever his friend beside him was saying no longer seemed that interesting.

Good.

As the evening wore on, you let your laughter come a little too easily, smiling at your friend’s jokes, resting your hand briefly on his shoulder as you leaned in, your face just inches from his. Jude’s gaze was practically drilling into you, a dark intensity that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, thrilling and defiant all at once.

You were loving it.

His hand came to rest on the table, fingers drumming an agitated beat, his knuckles white. At one point, he leaned forward to reach for his drink, and the subtle brush of his shoulder against yours sent a shiver down your spine. You caught his eyes, holding his gaze in challenge.

“You okay, baby?” you asked with a smile—the prettiest smile you could offer, eyes shining with a hint of mischief.

In response, his hand drifted under the table, finding your thigh and gripping it firmly. The heat of his palm burned through the silky fabric of your black dress, his fingers possessive, unapologetic. You swallowed, trying to focus on the conversation in front of you, but the pressure of his hand sent your pulse racing, a blend of anger and something far more dangerous surging through you.

Ignoring his grip, you shifted slightly and crossed your leg, pulling away just enough to let his hand slip, but not before his fingers tightened in a quick, heated squeeze. He didn’t let go; instead, he moved his hand further up, his fingers now grazing your upper thigh, daring you to push him away. You bit your lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of reacting. Instead, you leaned even closer to your friend, laughing softly as you let your hair fall forward, just brushing Jude’s arm in the process.

You could feel the heat of Jude’s glare on your skin, the simmering anger in every tense line of his body. You risked a quick glance his way, only to find him staring back at you with a look so intense, so darkly possessive, it was almost predatory. You'd seen this look before, but only when you had pushed him too far, ignited something in him he couldn’t control. It was a fire you both knew too well, one you had stirred with every challenge, every teasing word. And now, that fire was about to consume everything.

“Come on, keep pushing me, love.” He muttered sarcastically, each word perfectly pronounced, making sure you heard him loud and clear.

He lifted his glass, fingers curling possessively around the stem, and took a slow, deliberate sip, never once breaking his intense eye contact. As he set it down, his gaze trailed down to your lips, full and inviting, a subtle smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. Then, his eyes moved lower, lingering on the soft curve of your breasts, which you had purposefully exposed just enough to rile him up when he wasn’t looking. His stare lingered there, hungry, possessive, making your stomach tighten with a mix of anticipation and anger.

No. No. He didn't get to be in control. This time, you were the one leading. Why did he manage to make you so nervous with just a few touches and his confident smirk? It wasn't fair.

His hand drifted higher on your thigh, and you fought to keep your breath steady. The weight of his touch sent a rush of heat through you, but you refused to look his way, keeping your attention on the friend beside you. Due to all the bickering and pointless arguments, it had been far too long since you’d been close to each other. Now, his touch sent a butterflies to your stomach, its effect magnified—three times more intense than before. Jude’s fingers tensed, his grip growing firmer, sending a clear message, a silent warning. But you leaned in again, touching your friend as you laughed, your fingers trailing along his, knowing exactly how it looked.

Jude’s jaw clenched, his leg brushing firmly against yours under the table, his knee pressing against you with an undeniable possessiveness. His hand squeezed your thigh, almost painfully, and you knew he was at his limit.

So, you laughed again, but this time harder at your friend’s joke.

“Something funny?” Jude muttered in a low voice, his words quiet enough that only you could hear, laced with irritation and a hint of warning.

You turned to him, your expression innocent, even sweet. “He’s just hilarious,” you said with a slight, shy and cute smile, raising your glass and meeting his eyes in a silent challenge.

His gaze darkened further, his fingers moving in a slow, heated drag along the inside of your thigh, and for a brief second, you fought to keep your composure, refusing to let him see how much he was getting to you. His touch was a slow burn, each inch of contact sending a shiver through you that you tried to ignore.

Jude’s hand dropped back to the table, and for a moment, you thought he might finally let it go. But when you laughed again and casually complimented your friend with a teasing remark—something along the lines of, “You always look so good, I do not understand why are you still single,”— Jude’s expression darkened, his breath hitching slightly. He choked on his drink, fingers gripping the glass so tightly you half-expected it to shatter. You could practically feel the heat radiating from him, his control slipping just a little more with every word.

You pressed your lips together, trying to stifle a laugh. He set his glass down hard, his voice a rough whisper. “May I remind you that you are not the one who’s single?” he asked, his eyes flashing with a dangerous glint.

You raised a brow, unfazed, and turned back to your friend. “Am I pushing it?” you murmured, more to yourself than to him, a sly smile playing on your lips. But just as you were about to rest your hand on your friend’s arm for the fifteenth time that night, you felt Jude’s hand slip over yours—this time grasping your wrist, his fingers rough and insistent, stopping you before you could touch another man.

“Do not, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice like steel, laced with something electric that sent a thrill up your spine.

Without a word, you twisted your hand free and crossed your legs again, your knee brushing his leg as you did. His fingers found your wrist again, pulling you closer this time, his lips near your ear as he muttered, “You think this is a game?”

The heat of his breath against your skin made your heart race, and you felt your pulse quicken as he held your gaze, daring you to keep this up. His fingers lingered on your wrist, and for a second, you wondered if he might actually kiss you right there, just to make his point, in front of everyone, as if he didn’t care who was watching.

God you wanted that. Like, a lot.

At last, as the evening wound down and you both stood to say goodbye, Jude didn’t let you slip away. His hand slid possessively around your waist, holding you close as you say goodbye to the group, his grip firm, almost punishing. Once outside, he pulled you aside, finally away from the prying eyes of your friends.

Without a word, Jude pushed you gently against the side of the car, his eyes blazing with frustration, anger, and something else you couldn’t quite name. He stepped in close, his hands framing your waist, pressing you against the cool metal. His breath brushed against your neck, his voice a low, dangerous murmur.

“You think this was funny?” he asked, his fingers pressing into your hips, his gaze intense, unyielding.

You lifted your chin, holding his stare. “No,” you whispered, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. “I thought it was fair.”

Jude’s eyes darkened, and his grip tightened, his hands possessive, nearly desperate, as he pulled you even closer. The air between you was charged, tense, and thick with unspoken words. You could feel the rapid beat of his heart against you, the warmth of his hands sending shivers through you.

“You’re being…,” you started, trying to keep a teasing smile in check, though your amusement slipped through. His anger was palpable; he glared at you with narrowed eyes, locking onto you with an intensity that was thrilling, even a little dangerous.

“Mmm, what was it?” you asked, pretending to struggle to remember the exact word that had lit the fuse in this absurd, yet undeniably thrilling standoff. You paused for effect, watching the way his jaw tightened. “Oh, right—dramatic.”

You knew that would push him right over the edge, and sure enough, he leaned in, his expression hardening as his gaze burned right into yours. You could almost feel the warmth of his breath, the faint scent of his cologne enveloping you, as if he were drawing you into his orbit. He hadn’t even said a word yet, but somehow, he had you on edge, just as he always did, effortlessly.

“But you know,” you added with a smirk, leaning up on tiptoe to press a playful kiss on his heated cheek, “I think it suits you.”

Then, with all the nonchalance you could muster, you turned on your heel, heading for the passenger seat as though nothing had happened. For a moment, he didn’t move; you could practically feel his stare following you. But then, before you could even open the door, he grabbed your arm, pulling you back to him, right back into that same charged position, his grip firm but unmistakably possessive. And despite yourself, you couldn’t help but let a thrill run down your spine.

“You have no idea what you just started,” he murmured, his voice thick with a dangerous promise, his lips hovering just inches from yours.

And as you looked up at him, feeling the heat, the thrill, and the tension swirl between you, you realized you didn’t regret a single thing.

Jude’s smirk deepened as he held you there, his grip possessive and firm, his gaze dark with intent. You could feel every inch of space crackling with tension, every breath laced with challenge and defiance. He wasn't letting you go, not after what you'd just put him through. And part of you didn't want him to.

“You think this is a joke,” he muttered smirking, his voice low and edged with a dangerous sort of amusement. His fingers traced along your arm, each touch purposeful, as if to prove just how much control he still held. You raised your chin, meeting his gaze with equal defiance, a small smile on your lips.

“I think it is a taste of your own medicine,” you replied, your voice soft but unyielding. He leaned in, his lips so close they brushed against yours as he spoke, sending a shiver straight through you. He couldn’t resist the urge to kiss you.

“You’re going to regret this,” he murmured, his words a promise as his thumb skimmed along your jaw, tipping your face up to meet his.

[buckevantommy]

Buck could fill a small bakery with the amount he's baked in the past few weeks. He cleaned out the flour shelf at his corner market, used a coop's worth of eggs, pushed his mixer to the limit and had his oven working near constantly. Every neighbour on his floor and everyone he's passed in the lobby has had a loaf of some kind left on their doorstep or shoved politely into their hands. Everyone at the station is begging him not to overload them anymore on sugar - they'll take the carb-loaded meals he makes at work but avoid Buck the moment he enters the bay doors with a basket of saran-wrapped sweet bakes.

The worst part is that it's not working anymore. It never really distracted him enough to not want to call Tommy, just put his hands and head to use for an hour or two at time so that he couldn't text or call.

But now there's nothing left to bake with. And Eddie is looking at houses in El Paso. And everyone has family to go home to, except for Buck. And every reason he has for not being the one to reach out first goes out the window.

After a few rings, Tommy answers with a questioning, "-Buck?" and it's a gutpunch he doesn't need today but he's already feeling like shit so the pain just gets absorbed into the rest of it.

"H-hey, Tommy." It feels good to say his name under- well, not better circumstances than addressing his broken heart, but something with a bit of tentative hope at least.

And it's good to hear his voice. The voicemails and audio notes and videos from their time together have soothed him and tormented him at different times over the months, but hearing Tommy respond to him in real time sends a pang of longing through him.

"Um. I-I, uh."

"Are you okay?"

A bitter sound trips its way out of Buck's mouth. "No. No, I-I'm not okay."

"Are you hurt?"

The urgency in Tommy's voice thrills him; he still cares. But Buck doesn't want to misrepresent himself, doesn't want to trick Tommy into caring about what he's going through.

"Guess that depends."

"On what?"

"What kinda hurt you mean."

There's an inhale across the line. "What can I do?"

Tears prick at Buck's eyes. "I just- need someone to talk to." He doesn't say: even though we're not together anymore, can we still be friends? because even though he's missed Tommy being in his life, he doesn't know if he could be just friends.

"Okay." Buck hears some rustling in the background, footsteps, background noise receding. "I'm here. Talk to me."

Tommy wants to hear what Buck has to say, he always did. So Buck talks. He tells Tommy about Eddie moving away, and Tommy listens. And when it gets too much he tells Tommy about a new niece or nephew of his on the way, and Tommy offers his sincere congratulations. And then he tells Tommy about his baking coping mechanism and Tommy quiets.

So much so that Buck checks to see if the call dropped.

"I'm on my fifth engine. I keep taking them apart and putting them back together until they sound better than before. But everytime I was done I had to start again, fix another broken thing, because I couldn't fix.."

Buck takes an unsteady breath. Us. "Me."

"No," Tommy says emphatically. "I couldn't fix me. Too broken to be good enough for you."

It's a heartwrenching confession, but Buck feels a smile beneath the tears sneaking down his face. "You don't think I'm broken? Nobody stays for me, Tommy. At some point I gotta realize I'm just not someone people wanna stick around for longterm."

"Evan.."

Buck breezes over the sound of his name in Tommy's mouth, can't dwell on how good it feels because it won't last. "Guess neither of us are forever guys, huh." His heart, bruised and battered, bleeds a little more. The tears stream freely now. He sniffles, but manages to steady his voice as he says: "I loved you. That was real."

Tommy's breath hitches. "I was a coward."

Buck nods. Cries some more. They're both fucked up.

Tommy hesitates, but then: "I'm off-shift soon. We could.."

He leaves it hanging. There's so many ways Buck could finish that suggestion, most of them unbearably hopeful. He doesn't want to stay in his empty apartment anymore. "Yours?" His voice is a little wet. "Maybe I could help you with that engine."

Tommy's breath of amusement is a balm to Buck's aching heart. "You know something about vintage cars I don't know?" It's teasing, and gentle, and Buck has missed this.

"Maybe. Maybe trying to do it alone is the problem."

Another breath of laughter, followed by resignation in his voice. "Yeah. Maybe you're right."

Buck listens to him breathe for a moment: in, out, in..

"I'll meet you at mine."

Buck's poor heart beats a little stronger.

*

It was more than an hour later, of battling crosstown traffic and then letting himself into Tommy's house because Tommy had explicitly told him to use the spare key. They never gotten to the point of swapping keys. That probably should've been a step they didn't skip over. Buck's too-long legs had skipped too many for Tommy's comfort.

He pushes all thoughts of that aside. He's not perfect, he's too much, but Tommy agreed to see him. Tommy wants.. he's not sure.

Buck stands in the little living room, surveying Tommy's space while his mind spirals, heart yoyo-ing between hope and hopelessness. He doesn't know how much time passes when the front door opens and Tommy appears in the entryway.

He looks good. Tired, if the dark circles under his eyes are anything to go by, but good. His hair is a little longer all over, and it suits him. Buck wants to tell him as much but he can't seem to say anything.

Then Tommy says, "Hey," soft and concerned and fond, a sad smile at the corners of his eyes.

And Buck's tears threaten back into his own. "Hey." His voice is watery and brittle.

Tommy's there in three strides, gathering Buck into his arms, and Buck lets himself be wrapped in an embrace. Winds his arms around Tommy and presses into his solid warmth. Breathes him in as the tears come.

He feels safe. Seen. His heart cradled in care the way his body is cradled in Tommy's arms.

Buck takes a deep, steadying inhale of Tommy's scent and pulls back enough to look him in the face. His hands loose their grip at Tommy's shirt, smoothing to palm him through the cotton.

"About that engine.."

Tommy's smile is wide enough to crinkle his eyes in that way Buck loves, with joy etched in the creases.

"I wanna help you, if you'll let me. We could make it work. Together."

Tommy's eyes glisten. His smile breaks into a grin. "I'd like to try that."

buck probably called tommy every chance he got when they were together. driving home from work and stuck in traffic, it’s time to call tommy and tell him about his shift. late night in bed and he’s struggling to fall asleep without him, tommy’s soft voice will lull him to sleep from the other side of the phone. both on shift and the calls had been particularly slow, he will go and sit on the roof with tommy on loud speaker and they will just talk about anything and everything.

and when buck finds out that eddie is thinking about moving back to texas, tommy is the only person who he wants to talk to about it. so he finally gives in and calls. and of course, tommy will answer.

[robinbuckleyluvr]

⊹˚˖⁺ check you out - robin buckley

masterlist | requests

Summary: goodness! imagine robin buckley accidentally says she was checking you out...

Warnings: she/her pronouns used on reader

Notes: this was lowkey hilarious to write

Word count: 698

⸻⊱༺ 

The door opened, the familiar bell signaling the entrance of yet another customer. Robin barely had a second to look up and catch herself from dropping the VHS tapes she carried as she watched a girl come in. Steve was just as dazzled as Robin, he stumbled out his usual “Welcome to Family Video!” line, and Robin just… stared.

Robin and Steve made eye contact, both exclaiming “Dibs!” at the exact same time. 

“She looks like she would be into more intelligent conversation anyway,” Robin raised her eyebrows.

“Uh, rude?” Steve joked, making his way over to the girl before Robin could even respond, “Guess we’ll just have to find out.”

Robin sighed and crossed her arms, scouring her mind to think of an excuse to replace hush Steve away from the girl.

“Hey, uh, need any help around here? What are we browsing for today?” Steve flirted as he approached her.

“Just looking, I don’t have anything in mind,” she responded, a lack of interest filled her words, but it was a hint a guy such as Steve wouldn’t really get.

Robin, clearly amused, watched Steve’s desperate commentary, her mind running faster than ever. Okay, Robin, think! He is totally dumb and will fall for anything. You just have to come up with something that he will actually believe.

“Steve!” Robin exclaimed, “Can you please come help me? The computer is totally jammed again!” 

Steve sighed at Robin’s words as he muttered an apology to the girl, who didn’t really seem to mind as she kept on looking around. 

Robin stepped back as Steve approached the computer, and before he knew it, Robin had approached the girl already. Steve sighed and rolled his eyes as he realized the computer was working perfectly, watching Robin hurry away to speak to the girl instead.

“Hey! Hi, do you need any help?” Robin smiled nervously.

The girl offered a kind smile, “Thanks! I’m just unsure of what to get. Just looking for something to watch over the weekend I suppose.”

“Cool cool cool,” Robin breathed out, “Well, are you a rom-com kind of girl? Or do you like sci-fi movies and stuff?”

“Oh gosh…” She laughed, “Not a rom-com girl I don’t think… I avoid watching them alone. It's saddening, I prefer sci-fi for sure. I love horror, does that help?”

“Understandable! I’m the same,” Robin smiled, “But uh… sci-fi and horror! I can work with that.” She spoke shyly as she scanned the ‘horror’ shelf that stood behind the girl. 

The girl stood there quietly next to Robin as she looked around, Steve stood watching them from afar, having his eyes nearly popping out of his skull as he noticed the girl checked Robin out — something Robin, of course, had completely missed. 

“How about…” Robin spoke as she reached over to grab one of the VHS tapes, “‘The Shining’! A total classic. It’s one of my all-time favorite movies. Have you seen it before?”

“Are you joking? I love that movie. Wouldn’t mind re-watching it, I think.”

Robin’s face lit up as the girl accepted her request. “Alright! You’re all set then! I’ll just get you checked out.” Robin paused, flustered, “I mean, I’ll check you out—Not check you out like that, uh, check out your movie! Not that I wouldn’t, you know, check you out. I mean, wait, that’s not, I mean, get your movie checked. You checked. For the movie that you’re renting! Which… yeah — pay there?” She motioned to the counter and walked off, her voice increasingly getting higher with each word.

As she followed Robin to the counter, the girl shook her head slightly, a shy smile forming as she did so. 

[burntheedges]

Pas de Deux Chapter 6

Din Djarin x f!reader | 2.5k | fic masterlist | main masterlist | ao3

chapter summary: You can't avoid it any longer -- it's time for you and Din to talk.

a/n: I feel like this is the moment many of you have been waiting for, lol. I'm very excited to see your reactions! See my notes at the end and on the masterlist about reader in this fic and ballet in general. Thank you @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta, as always!!

chapter tags/warnings: gen, ballet terms (see end notes and the masterlist for definitions and videos), a bit more angst (sorry), but they are going to talk!

Chapter 6

You thought about your conversation with Kuiil as you walked to your rehearsal with Adrian, as you stretched and practiced in your morning classes, and as you took the stage over the weekend in Vince’s piece in the mixed program. You thought about it as you watched Din and Yuna in the Balanchine ballet and as you did your PT for your ankles and as you talked with Talia about your role in Midsummer. You thought about it as you sat on the bus home at night, so tired and achy that you needed something to think about to keep you awake.

You thought about it so much you barely had time to think about anything else.

Was Kuiil right? Was Din more uncertain than frustrated? Was he finding it difficult to communicate and connect in a way he hadn’t before, at CBC? You thought about seeing him on stage with Yuna, and how effortless that had seemed. But Balanchine’s choreography, more than so many others, was so technical, so focused on precision. There was so much less room for the dancer in a ballet where all of the space was taken up by striving for technical perfection. 

In class, you let your eyes stray to Din for the first time in two weeks. You watched as he stretched and jumped and wondered if perhaps you had just been talking past each other.

What if he’s trying, and you simply haven’t realized it? What if he just doesn’t know how?

He’s never done this before, you reminded yourself. 

Your mind was swimming as you stepped into the studio for your fourth rehearsal with Kuiil. You found Din was already there, as usual, and tried not to stare as you worried over your questions. You resolved to be more observant, this time.

And this time, because you were looking for it, you finally saw what Kuiil was talking about.

More than once, as you danced, Din reached for you, literally and figuratively. You leapt past and he oriented his body towards yours, echoing your movement. He turned, but kept his eyes on you as he did. You could see him trying in the ways he knew, to shape his movements around yours, to showcase his partner on stage, but his discomfort with improvisation shone through. The problem was that all of his movements were so stylistically different from yours, that there was little for you to hold on to. And so the two of you struggled to react to each other, as Kuiil had asked.

You tried. You tried to respond to him, to react, but it threw both of you off. He clearly wasn’t expecting you to improvise so drastically. Suddenly the dance was disjointed, and you fell so badly out of step in trying to turn towards him when he moved away from you that you stumbled. 

The music stopped.

Din turned to look at Kuiil and you spun around to do the same. 

Kuiil simply looked at you both for a moment, and then sighed. “I have pushed you too much, I think, and forgotten the basics of partnership. And you will need to work together, to connect more deeply, as we begin the second movement.” You started to shake your head, but Kuiil held up his hand. “No. Here is what we will do, as you prepare for Midsummer and Swan Lake.”

And then he gave you homework.

…

“So, what, is Kuiil going to lock you in a room until you talk to each other?” Adrian’s voice was teasing, but you could tell he meant it.

“Not quite,” you said. “But instead of rehearsal next week we’re supposed to try to get to know each other. To talk.”

He smirked at you. “Ooooh, to talk.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Yes?” You poked him in the side and he yelped. “Stop teasing me and help me figure out what to talk to him about.”

He laughed. “I think you know what to talk about. You just have to figure out how to get him to talk at all.”

You shook your head. “He’s talked to me. Just not about… this.” You waved your arm at all of the problems you’d been having in rehearsal.

Adrian seemed to consider that for a moment. “You know, you’re right. He does talk to you, in a way he doesn’t talk to anyone else.” He furrowed his brow. “Maybe all you need to do is ask.”

…

You followed Adrian’s advice and started with simply asking Din to meet you at the rehearsal studio, without Kuiil, to talk. He agreed readily and you decided to take that as a good sign.

It was the week of Midsummer’s debut, and you were focused to the point of distraction on your role as Hermia. You appreciated it for taking your mind off of the disaster that was the pas de deux, though, and by the time you found yourself outside of the studio where you’d meet Din you realized you’d barely thought about the meeting at all.

(Well, not much. Not as much as the week before, at least.)

He was, as usual, already inside.

You closed the door behind you and dropped your bag and shoes before moving to join him where he sat with his back to the mirror. As you slid down beside him, he nodded in greeting. 

“So,” you said, when it became obvious Din wasn’t going to jump in first. “I think we both know what the problem is, but where do we start?”

You looked at Din and took a moment to observe him up close. He was staring straight ahead, but you didn’t think he was looking at anything in particular. He seemed too inside his own mind for that.

Just when you began to worry that you’d have to push him, that this wasn’t going to work because he wasn’t going to meet you halfway, he spoke.

“I’m sorry.” 

You blinked, startled — you weren’t sure what he was apologizing for. Did he think you meant he was the problem?

“What? Din, no—”

He shook his head and finally turned to look at you. His expression was as closed to you as always. “No, I want to say this. Let me… let me say this. I should have told you this weeks ago, but I can’t…” he trailed off, but this time you didn’t interrupt. You turned slightly towards him on the floor, extending your left leg and drawing your right knee to your chest. You gave him your full attention. He looked down at his hands and continued, softly. “I’ve never done anything like this before. I’ve been so worried that I won’t be able to… to let go of my training. To dance in any other way. To do anything else.” 

You wanted to reach out to him, but you were worried he would startle if you did. You laced your own fingers together and squeezed your hands around your knee.

“I can see the problems, but I don’t know how to fix them. I don’t know how to move like you do. I don’t know how to do anything but what I’ve always done. I don’t know…” Suddenly he looked up at you, and you sucked in a sharp breath at the sheer emotion in his eyes. “I want to dance this with you. I want to partner with you. But I can’t seem to figure out how — not because of you. Because of me.”

You were reaching before you could stop yourself and lightly rested your hand on his forearm. He didn’t startle, but he did look down at it, brow furrowed. You forced yourself to leave it there and squeezed his arm lightly. 

“Din, I…” you weren’t sure how to reassure him. You’d seen his discomfort in rehearsals and you knew this was new to him, even if he hadn’t told you so before. You decided to share your own worries instead, since he had just been so open with his own. “This is the biggest role I’ve ever gotten. I mean, you know I’ve got Hermia, and then the spring fairy in Cinderella… but I’ve never been chosen for something like this before. I’ve never had a chance like this.” He lifted his head and met your eyes again, and this time his eyes were soft. It encouraged you to continue. “And you’re so good, I’ve been so worried that I’m not…” you bit your lip and squeezed his arm again when he opened his mouth. You shook your head and he nodded, letting you continue. “That I’m not good enough. I’ve had bad reviews before and I’m not even a principal and I know there are people out there who think I’m not good enough to be one. I—”

This time, Din cut you off. “That’s absurd.” His tone was flat, like his point was so obvious he couldn’t believe he had to say it.

You blinked. “What?”

He tilted his head, his gaze dancing over your face. He covered your hand on his left arm with his right and squeezed. “Of course you deserve to be a principal. They should have already promoted you. Karga clearly wants to, anyway. You’re a beautiful dancer.”

Your mouth dropped open. “What?”

The corner of his mouth lifted in that barely-there smile and you felt your cheeks start to heat as his praise continued. “I’m surprised you didn’t notice me watching you. It wasn’t just for our homework. You’re… amazing. I don’t know how you put so much emotion into your dancing at the same time as so much such skill and technique. Like in Midsummer, everything you bring to Hermia, it’s…” His eyes scanned your face again, and you wondered if you were gaping at him. It felt like it. “It’s so real. And connected. I feel like a robot, compared to you. I’ve been trying to find that connection for myself, but…” he trailed off again and let his hand slip from where it covered your own. You took your hand back, too.

A connection, he said. “Um, thank you. Maybe…” you started, hesitant. He looked at you again. “Maybe we can help each other. Practice together, outside of our rehearsals.”

He nodded. You nodded back, and then you both laughed, a little. You’d never seen him laugh before and couldn’t help but stare.

You felt a bit shaky after all of that honesty and decided to lighten the air a little. “Ok, well, one thing we definitely need to do is get to know each other, right? So we’re comfortable together.” He nodded, and his expression was so open you had to force yourself to keep going, rather than to simply marvel at the fact that he’d dropped his mask. For you. “So. How about we each get 10 questions, but we can pass if we need to. Ok?”

One side of his mouth lifted in a smile. “You sound like you’ve done this before.”

You shrugged. “It’s a good way to get to know someone, especially when you have to dance with someone new.”

Din nodded. “Alright. You go first.”

Over the next half hour you learned that Din’s favorite color was black (“come on, really?” “Fine, my second favorite is green.”), he hated smart technology (“I don’t want my fridge to talk to me. I want it to be a fridge.”), and his favorite ballet he’d ever been in was, surprisingly, Giselle (“it’s not in the normal repertoire there, and they didn’t like how I danced it. But I did. It was the most free I’ve ever felt on stage.”).

You wanted to ask more about why he’d left CBC, but that felt like too much for your first real conversation. You did learn, though, that he had a son.

“Grogu,” he said, “that’s his name. He’s five. He loves watching ballet.” Din smiled a little, looking off into the distance. “I don’t know if he’ll want to dance, but at least he likes watching me do it.”

You smiled. He was more open when he talked about his son, who must have been the little boy you saw him with, back in December. “Sounds like he sits through it better than my family.”

Din laughed, and shook his head. “We’ll see if it changes as he gets older.”

“Is that why you’re always in such a hurry?”

He nodded. “My friend takes care of him during the day, but I hate leaving him for so long. She lives close by so I try to go home for lunch, on the weekends, or to pick him up from school.”

That made sense. A new understanding of Din was forming in your mind — not an avoidant, aloof principal dancer, but a father who wanted to spend time with his son as much as he wanted to dance. Someone with more on his mind than fitting into this new company — you imagined the move must have been difficult on Grogu, too. 

“How’s he settling in here?”

Din looked at you, that little half smile back on his lips. “Just fine. He likes his new kindergarten, he’s made some friends. Better than I even hoped, really.”

You nodded. “That’s good. I’m glad he’s liking it. I bet that was a difficult transition for him. And you.”

Din sighed. “A bit. But it was necessary.”

Before you could even consider asking what he meant by that, you both heard commotion in the hall. You checked the time and realized you needed to get to your next rehearsal. Din stood first and offered you his hand.

You slid your hand into his, and he squeezed it as he pulled you up. 

“This was a good idea,” he said, squeezing your hand again. “Do you think next week will go better?”

You nodded. “I think so. But do you want to meet beforehand, to talk about the choreography? Maybe figure out where we can find each other instead of missing each other.”

He nodded. “I’d like that.”

…

You felt lighter after your conversation with Din. You hadn’t solved the problem, of course, but you’d at least talked to each other. It felt like the air was clearer, now that you both knew the other was struggling in some way. Neither of you was alone in it.

Over the weekend you focused on Midsummer — it was a big deal for you, getting cast as Hermia. You were excited to dance through her turmoil. She was so torn, as a character, and you wanted to portray that on stage. 

As you prepared and stretched on Friday night, you thought about what Din had said — that he couldn’t figure out how to dance in a new way, and that he felt like a robot. You shook your head. A robot? You weren’t sure what he was feeling while he danced, but Din never looked like a robot when he was performing. He’d said, too, that he loved being in Giselle, an overall more emotional performance than much of CBC’s usual repertoire. That he’d felt free. 

You thought about his face, every time you’d seen behind the mask, and you knew he could do it. You just had to help him figure out how to find that connection again, and how to lower the mask more while he was performing.

As you stepped out on stage that night, you let that certainty ground you. As you performed your variation, you’d never felt more like you were floating.

...

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a/n: they talked!!! what do we think?

Pas de deux & partnering -- Partnering in ballet is hard! There has to be a lot of trust and communication between partners, even though you don't necessarily need to be like best friends. These two are so advanced and have been in companies for so long that they are able to jump into something like this, but they still have to establish a partnering relationship, which is tough! To give you an idea of just some of what goes into partnering, here's a video of "beginning tips" (skip to around ~12:00 for some interesting stuff on balance). Din is used to verrrrry formal partnering, and that is some of the reason for their communication issues.

Midsummer - reader is dancing the role of Hermia in A Midsummer's Night Dream, which can go to either a principal or a soloist, just depending on the company. Here's a nice overview of the two acts and the ballet from the San Francisco Ballet. Here's a video of a dancer breaking down the role. Here's a couple examples of Hermia's famous variation (solo): one, two. Hermia has other big moments in the ballet but I've mostly been mentioning reader prepping for the solo. Companies might also spread out the roles over different nights or weekends -- in this case reader has Hermia for one weekend, like Adrian has Puck for one weekend (which isn't really mentioned in the fic because I didn't think it was relevant). (Is it a little unbelievable that reader is so unsure about her possible promotion if she got this role? Maybe. Soloists could get this role, especially a first soloist!)

Spring fairy - reader is dancing the role of the spring fairy in Cinderella, too. This and Midsummer are big story ballets that would draw an audience. Here's another two performances of the spring fairy variation and all of the fairies in one video from a 2003 Royal Ballet production. Spring starts ~2:30. The wiki page has a nice overview of the numbers in each act, so you can see where the fairies come in. The wiki lists 4 acts, though, and most companies do it like ABT I think -- with 2 acts. And here's a full length recording.

Giselle - Din mentions this briefly and we'll learn more later, but here's an overview of the ballet. (it's one of my favs)

tag list coming in a reblog!

[hencheri]

18+ mdni.

pairing: mean stepbro!chenle x fem!reader

warnings: stepcest, heavy dubcon, very very mean chenle, coercion.

.

chenle is the annoying brother that you could imagine. he loves being mean, takes a lot of satisfaction in it. a lot of pleasure. 

he never misses an opportunity to make fun of you, whether it’s to pinpoint how much better he is at school than you are, or how much of a disappointment you must be to your parents, he always laughs at you. you could argue that he’s just trying to get under your skin — and it works especially well — but chenle does think he’s better than you.

he’s always bickering with you, and maybe you wouldn’t catch any of his attempts to create a fight if your mom and his dad wouldn’t take his side so often. you get so frustrated by it, which you get scolded for even more. 

chenle can be bearable sometimes — only when he wants to, though. he helps you with your assignments when you ask nicely, even though you get called an idiot a bunch of times. he plays video games with you, and he’s pretty enjoyful in those moments, but it’s always ruined by chenle being mean to you one too many times. you end up yelling at him as he laughs at your petty attitude, and you either throw your controller at him or call him an asshole before storming away in your room.

but chenle isn’t all that perfect like your parents think he is. far from it, even.

they don’t know how he really sees his stepsister. they don’t know what type of bonding moments he really shares with you. no, because if they did, they would absolutely disown him, and you as well, but the thought of your parents discovering chenle isn’t the well-behaved and respectful boy he pretends to be makes you really, really happy. 

if they knew what chenle’s intentions really are when bugging you, like stealing your phone and raising it out of your reach above your head, maybe they wouldn’t call him a good boy anymore. maybe they wouldn’t congratulate him for his good grades or for becoming the captain of his college basketball team. 

chenle knows this dirty secret could ruin the clean image he puts out, but sometimes his desires are stronger than him. and so are yours, too. 

“give it to me!” you groan as you desperately pull on chenle’s arm that is perched up in the air with your phone in his hand. “you’re so annoying, i swear!”

his arm doesn’t budge though, and you start to grow tired, but he still has his insufferable triumphic smile drawn on his face. 

“then take it,” he mocks, holding his arm high in the air, his other hand pushing on your shoulder. 

“that’s what- argh!” you stomp your foot on the floor in frustration, backing away from your brother. “i need it, chenle. stop being an ass.”

“okay, you really want it?” he asks as he lowers the phone, pulling it away when he sees your attempt of taking it from his hand immediately when it’s in your reach. “hey. answer my question.”

you roll your eyes, sighing, “yes, of course, chenle!”

you cross your arms over your chest as you look at him, licking his lips and shifting your phone from one hand to another, knowing pertinently he’s being an asshole right now. 

“i have an offer, then,” he smirks. 

you frown because why would you bargain with him to have your phone back? it’s yours! but knowing chenle, he always wants to gain something from any situation. 

“that’s ridiculous,” you scoff, but he’s absolutely serious — despite the smile on his lips. 

“do you want your phone back?” he asks more sternly to which you grumble a ‘yes’. “i’ll let you have it if you accept to be a little nicer to me.”

“what?” you laugh, “nicer to you? as if you deserve it. eat shit.” you head for the door of your bedroom, and chenle pulls you right back to him, not wanting you to go away from him. 

“oh, come on,” he whispers beside your ear, his arm going around your waist, “quit being a bitch and play with me,” he proposes and you feel yourself immediately melting down. how can he be so tempting?

you try to resist anyway, removing his grip from around your body. “chenle,” you scold, “that’s not the moment.”

but he brings you against him once again, putting his face beside yours, his lips touching the shell of your ear. “it’s fine, your mom’s out at work and my dad’s dead asleep upstairs,” he insists, but it’s yet not enough to make you give up. “i’ll fucking shatter your phone against the wall if you keep being a petty whore,” he grits through his teeth and you know that his threat is very real. 

you’re no stranger to chenle’s ruthless way of fucking — pitiless he is, but evil he is even more, and you get to experience it everytime he catches you between his claws. sharp, mean claws that leave your skin bruised. marks that you have to explain to your friends, inventing an imaginary boyfriend who’s filthy in the bedroom. 

“you’re only good for taking cock.” his breath hits the side of your face, his voice harsh like the hands gripping your hips. “you don’t care if it’s your brother’s, as long as it’s in your stupid fucking cunt, right?” he chuckles, pounding you from behind, having the familiar sight of your head buried into your pillows in front of him. 

you only muster out a ‘shut up’ out of your mouth, and as unconvincing as you sound with teary eyes, you truly want him to stop talking so much. 

chenle only looks more pleased. no matter the amount of tears you cry, he knows you like it, and this little fact is enough to make him have the upper hand on you. he always does.

he tugs on your hair, lifting your head from the pillows. “you can tell me to shut up how many times you want, sweetheart, you’ll still cum around my cock like the fucking slut you are,” he states, shoving your face back into the cushions, your tears leaving wet patches on the fabric. 

you cry out when he hits the sensitive spot inside of you, his grip on your hair remaining and making your scalp burn badly. 

“stop whining so loudly, you don’t want my dad to find us like this, do you?” chenle slaps your ass with his palm as a warning and you shake your head the best you can. “good because i’ll have to shut you up myself, and i know how much you hate when i do that, hm?”

there are plenty of things you hate about chenle, but this is surely the one you hate the most, and he knows it because you didn’t talk to him for days after that. and so knowing better than to piss him off, you keep your lips sealed shut.

[sevs-corner]

Tf 141: Jock AU!

Welp here we are, and I’ve been listening to a lotttttt of (Set it Off) songs so-!!!

Here’s my take of how toxic it would be like with them once they finally got you roped into their relationship

Masterlist here! to my other works and link the OG idea behind the AU here!

Edit#1: added more content! Felt like it was too short (i got more thoughts to add MWHAJAHAJSHJ)

My inspo for this hehe:

MDNI - TW: 18+ Suggestive Content | Toxicity | Degradation

Look, it wasn’t like you were a perfect little princess either, alright?

You ended up here at this problematic school for a reason, y’know?

Despite the fancy reputation it had on the inside— the students knew better

The students knew that all of it was just a farce for these four students who were controlling everything from behind the scenes

And you just happened to cross bridges with said four mansplain manipulators (they aren’t malewives yet)

Gaz, being the first one to welcome you, the hunger already being seen behind his iris, was all ready and eager to show you off to the rest of the guys

But he takes it slow, playing with his food, and letting you “get used to the new school”

Ha! Bullshit— they got you used to them.

Day in, day out- you’d experience their teases, probing pokes, provocations, and just temp you ever so sweetly to be their personal little bitch toy

You deny- keep denying and denying until they show you whats in store for you

Until, at one of their parties, they showed you that you could be that girl in the middle of all four of them on their bed

You lied and ran- as fast as you could

But you couldn’t lie to how you reacted down there

And when that reaction happened again at another party but with just the four of them just slobbering all over each other

‘Disgusting..’

You tell yourself, but somehow- you always stood in front of the dreaded master bedroom door

Tempting you ever so slowly, cracking the walls you’ve built ever so carefully

With a knock, you sealed your fate

From then on, there was no one who didn’t know that you were branded theirs

It was a rough adjustment at the start

Johnny always greeted you first thing in the morning, spamming your phone with all sorts of…questionable memes (that you found quite distasteful and you just?? Didnt?? Understand it all and when you asked him to explain, he’d just send another reaction pic basically answering “what the fuck? You dont know?”)

Sometimes, you’d get a surprised dick pic or a drive link to their last night escapades

Teasing you and moaning your name- hoping you would join them soon enough (they cant get enough of you and want it everyday)

And when you send one it return with one of the toys Simon gave you?

You can’t bet your ass you wouldn’t be leaving the door of your dingy apartment

Though on days that you’re able to actually go out and attend classes, Gaz would be right outside waiting with his daddy’s car

Something all the boys flaunted with really, except Simon who seemed too lazy to drive himself, so he finds himself hitching a ride with Johnny or Price more often than not

Gaz would guide (force) you into the car, before taking you either to their place or the school

Sometimes, he would kidnap you for himself and sends those pictures and videos to the rest of the heavily fuming and horny three

And when you got back?

Well, you could already see yourself besides a kneeling Gaz— tears of frustration and wanton pleasure coating his cheek bones, his mouth gagged and limbs bounded

Before they were done with him, they promised that you would be next

And they never forget their promises— they go above and beyond

Aside from those escapades, school was no different from being attached to your side

Got a group project? Forget about the work you did already with your current group- you’re with them now

Eating lunch alone? Nope, they’re by your classroom door to pick you up (so you can’t deny them when they’ve put in the effort to escort you)

Got detention? They are walking themselves there willingly just to accompany you

Got a class any one of them? They’re skipping theirs and going to attend yours from now on

Having a hard time in gym class? Sure, they’ll watch you struggle at first in those too short-shorts but if you begged prettily enough, they’ll come swooping in immediately

You have to repay them back in the locker rooms after their practice though

Gotta make sure they’re all clean and well-rested after the coach ran them rugged y’know?

Need a ride home? They are personally escorting you back, as long as you provide compensation on the way there of course

All this made you addicted

Starting off from being too much to needing it more like its Johnny’s daily dose

Wanting to be even closer with them— you indulge in their vices as well

You start smoking with John, kissing with the cig butts and inhaling each other’s smoke

You start taking Johnny’s drugs and sharing joints with him, going to class high and sobering it with a shared tumbler of whiskey between you two

You start to join Gaz in his projects, growing the craving satisfaction of seeing people being broken beneath his feet and manipulation

You start to have more play scenarios with Ghost, even bringing it outside of the bedroom

And the boys can’t help but join in as well

This then continues on and on until…

Until you realize…

Externally, they’ve gave you everything

Everything you’ve wanted and more

And you’ve let them take, and take, and take—-

But in the post nut clarity you found yourself in from another fivesome with them—

You stare at a stranger that is supposed to be you

And it scares you how far gone you’ve had

So you ran… as fast as you could

Even if you would see them again tomorrow

But what scares you more was how easily you fell back in to their pace if you leave for too long

So you try, you try ending it all

That as soon as you came home, your plan of “burning bridges” begins

Taglist!✨ (for more crumbs on the au LMAO)

@cod-z