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strangerstilinski · 15 days

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𝙞𝙩 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙨 𝙖 𝙠𝙞𝙨𝙨

𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

word count: 2.5k warnings: none really, fluffy ending, steve is kind of a dick, mention of alcohol, gender neutral reader (pls let me know if i missed anything) based on that scene in tasm where peter spins gwen around to kiss her — with just a dash of enemies to lovers

It should go without saying that Steve Harrington is the bane of your goddamned existence. If the two of you aren't at each other's throats, it typically just means that you're both doing your best to pretend the other doesn't even exist.

And, sure, maybe it drives you a little bit insane that he seems to get along just fine with every person in your friend group except for you. It was like you pushed buttons that Steve wasn't even aware he had.

Nancy finds the whole thing amusing, says that Steve's clearly so in love with you that he doesn't know how to handle it. Eddie swears that Steve looks at you with hearts in his eyes, though any time you've caught his stare those ‘hearts’ tended to look a whole lot more like daggers. Argyle and Robin both insist that love and hate tread a very thin line, and eventually, a little push will have the two of you stumbling head over heels into each other's waiting arms. Johnathan tends to stay out of it, but then, he doesn't really need to say anything, because you've seen that look he gives you when he catches you looking a little too long at the moles dotted along the length of Steve's throat, or that stubborn lock of hair that tumbles over his brow bone, or the way his tongue pokes out and his eyes narrow cutely when he's concentrating-

You hate it. You hate Steve. Even now, you swear you hate him, regardless of the way you shamelessly ogle the curve of his bicep when he reaches across the back of the sofa to drape his arm loosely behind Robin's shoulders. You've accepted it. At this point, allowing yourself to admire his stupidly handsome physique was merely reparations for being forced to put up with him on a near-daily basis. Compensation for the never-ending bad attitude that he seemed to direct solely at you.

“Does anyone hear that?” Steve's voice speaks louder than your own suddenly, effectively cutting you off even though you'd been in the middle of a sentence. His eyes meet yours for just a brief second before his gaze is moving elsewhere, “It’s like, this annoying buzzing sound?” He's sitting up a little straighter following his interruption, brows drawing together like he's listening intently for something.

His sudden line of questioning has thoroughly derailed your train of thought. The longwinded story you'd been regaling to the group about a customer at work is cut short, the words dissolving on your tongue as your try to work out what on earth Steve is referring to. Until his interruption, you hadn't heard anything.

“What are you even talking abou-”

“There!” He cuts you off once more, “There it is again! Did you hear that, Robs?” The fingers he nudges into his best friend's ribs makes her squirm away with a deep laugh.

“Are you seriously implying that I'm the-”

“God, you are hearing that, right?” Steve interrupts with an irritatingly pleased grin on his face, “Like nails on a chalkboard-”

Though Robin's laughter isn't actually directed at you, your face burns hotly anyway. A pity-filled smile graces her lips when she meets your gaze after escaping the wrath of Steve's tickling, and the boy's chuckles of amusement only serve to make you grind your teeth together in irritation.

“Real mature, dickhead.” You snap, snatching up the beer you'd set down on the coffee table when Eddie had actually asked you about your day a few minutes before. “I was in the middle of a story.”

“Yeah, no offense, honey, but I don't think any of us were that invested hearing you talk about the ‘big tip’ that some douchebag with a hand tattoo left you.” Steve grumbled with a roll of his eyes, “If your stories weren't so boring, maybe we wouldn't all be sitting here hoping for a hole in the earth to open up under us just so we don't have to keep listening to-”

“Steve, c'mon man-” Eddie tries, though his voice is drowned out by your own.

“Jesus, do you have to be such an asshole all the time?” You snap in Steve's direction.

“I'm just saying,” Steve shrugged, “Probably the only reason he left such a big tip was because pulled the wrong bill out of his wallet. It sure as hell wasn't 'cause of your shining personality.”

“What, and just 'cause you're a jackass that means no man could ever possibly find me appealing?” You bite back.

“Yeah, well, your pretty face doesn't quite make up for your constant need for attention.”

“My need for attention?” You scoff incredilously, beer slamming back down onto the tabletop in front of you as the rest of your friends seem to fade even further into the background. “You're the one who can't stand when the focus is on me for ten fucking seconds.”

“Well I don't care if some prick hit on you at work-” Steve argues, “So, I guess, if that makes me an asshole-”

“It does, as a matter of fact,” You interrupt easily, “Because I'm constantly listening to you whine about your conquest of the week, and I'm able to do so without acting like a fucking-”

“Careful,” Steve hums, cocky little smirk reemerging on his lips, “You're sounding a little jealous, there, honey.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

“'S my house,” He returns just as quickly, “How 'bout you fuck off.”

The blood in your veins is full of fire. Your face is burning with rage and your eyes prickle traitorously with frustrated tears, because that customer from your story? That was the highlight of your day, because the rest of it had been a fucking disaster.

You'd slipped on freshly mopped floors and dropped an entire table's drink orders. You'd been forced to finish your shift with sticky, soda pop-soaked socks squelching wetly in your shoes with every step. Your boss had given you shit, even though it was one of your coworkers who had failed to put out the wet floor sign in the first place. You'd burned yourself on a hotplate, twice. And then, after all that, you'd had no choice but to take an ice-cold shower before heading over to Steve's house, because the hot water heater in your decrepit apartment building was apparently broken. Again.

“Y'know what? Fine.”

You're already rising to your feet, wiping the palms of your hands down your jeans to dry the lingering condensation from your beer. You blink furiously to push back the tears that had been pooling at your waterline, shaking your head at the ridiculousness of the turn in your evening.

“Wha-” Steve is watching you with something like concern in his eyes now, “Wh-Where're you goin'?”

“I'm leaving,” You announce, gaze steadfastly avoiding where Steve has removed his arm from around Robin's shoulders so he can sit at the edge of the couch, like he's planning to rise to his own feet at any moment. “I, um. I'll talk to you guys later.”

There are protests from everyone, but you don't bear them any mind. You're already turning on your heel and moving toward the entryway with hurried steps. The front door slams shut behind you before you've even gotten your jacket all the way on. You've still got one arm still struggling to find the hole of your sleeve when you hear the door swing back open behind you.

“Hey! Wait up.”

Steve's voice does make you slow where you've begun to move down the driveway, though you don't turn around. Your steps finally come to a stop when he calls out to you again.

“C'mon, honey wait, wait, wait-”

You blow out a frustrated breath as he finally catches up with you, your arms crossing over your chest like that might somehow put up a physical barrier between the two of you.

“I really don't want to do this with you, Harrington. Alright?” An air of defeat laces your words, one hand coming up to rub at the headache that’s begun to pulse between your brows, “Just.. Not tonight.”

You move to step around him and the heel of your boots click against the pavement once, twice. But then something hooks into the belt loop on your jeans and you're tugged back around. You lose your footing at the unexpected shift in momentum, knees wobbling unsteadily for just a moment before you're twirled back around to face him and then your palms are meeting a firm chest.

The adrenaline has your brain whiting out for just a moment, any and all thoughts screeching to a halt. There’s warmth seeping into your palms from beneath Steve’s tshirt. The racing of your own heart in your ears drowns out the distant sound of laughter and the opening trailers of a movie rental coming from inside. Your eyes are level with his chin, wide gaze locked on his lips as they quirk up at one corner with his gentle smirk. You’re still standing pigeon-toed between his own larger feet, a little off balance but held firmly in place by the wide hand splayed across your waist.

“I'm sorry.” Steve says quietly.

It’s only been a second or two since he dragged you back into his space, and to your surprise, his head dips, just a fraction. Steve brushes his nose against your own, a gentle stroke that sends butterflies in your stomach fluttering wildly. The cool mint clinging to his breath fans out over your face smelling of the gum he’s always chewing and smacking obnoxiously, but the scent this close is intoxicating. The hand he brings up to cradle your jaw is intoxicating. The loose flap of leather on his watch that tickles at the side of your throat. The way he’s leaning in-

The passion he kisses you with, from the moment your lips touch, is intoxicating. It's all-encompassing. You can’t think, and you’re not sure you’re even breathing, but his lips are moving in unhurried synchronization with your own. Your knees are weak. You’re gripping the material of his shirt in your fists just for something to hold onto, but Steve’s arm is curled tight around the curve in your spine now to hold you steady.

His tongue brushes against your lips, licking softly at the seam of your mouth like he's asking for permission. The desperate sound that crawls up your throat at just that quick brush of his tongue nestles in the depths of Steve's brain where he files it away for later. He hitches his arm even tighter at your waist, pulling your stomachs flush until your chest heaves against his own.

Your head is a little fuzzy when your lips separate long enough for you to take a breath, and you’re gasping comically in an effort to fill your lungs. Steve’s quiet chuckle meets your ears, his hand sliding back from your jaw to cup the back of your neck.

“You kissed me.” The words fall from your lips in a whisper of disbelief. Your eyes are still closed, lashes fluttering against the tops of your cheeks. You’re terrified if you open them even a crack, the entire scene will suddenly fade away around you like some kind of dream. The airy cadence of your voice is partially due to your surprise, but also thanks to the far-too-easy grace with which you've been spun and manhandled and swept entirely off your feet.

“I did,” Steve agrees just as quietly, “I did do that.”

His forehead meets your own as your eyes flutter open and he simply holds you there for a moment, nose dragging across your cheek before he presses another quick kiss to your lips. His head tilts, thumb stroking soft over the side of your throat before his mouth finds yours again, and again. These kisses are different — casual, tender, sweet and unhurried. Like he’s kissing you just because he can.

“You-” Is all you manage to get out before your words are silenced by his lips slotting between your own, but you carry on with barely a pause as you click apart once again, “Y'r still doing it.”

“Mhm.” He hums easily, the sound rumbling beneath your hands on his chest.

“Why-”

Kiss.

“Are you-”

Kiss.

“Kissing me?”

Steve’s breath mingles hotly with your own in the narrow breadth of space between your parted lips, “D’you want me to stop?”

“No. Hell no.”

And there's that perfect smile of his. Straight teeth make an appearance as his lips quirk up at the corner, a breathy spearmint scented laugh that sounds a little too relieved for the casual coolness that he's clearly trying to give off. His mouth opens like he's going to say something, but no words seem to come. Lips parted, throat bobbing as he swallows around the heavy silence weighing down his tongue.

He looks so pretty like this, you think. The light shining above your heads catches in his brown eyes, caramel sparking with flecks of gold and green that you've never noticed before, but you're sure you'll never be able to forget the sight of it now. You're still sharing breaths, faces so close that you can't avoid watching the way his full lashes blink at you dumbly. As if he isn't the one who spun you around and pulled you close and effortlessly gave you the best kiss of your entire life. As if, maybe, he didn't quite expect to make it this far, and now he's at a loss for how to proceed.

You release his shirt from your fist, the fabric crinkled and stretched with how tight you'd been gripping it, only to slide your hand up the back of his neck. The tip of his nose catches the bottom of your own, lips brushing faintly while your hand finds a new home in his hair. The soft strands tangle between your fingers when you give it a gentle tug and push up on your toes to draw yourself impossibly closer.

“If I'd known kissing you was all it took to shut you up, Harrington, I would've done it ages ago.” Your quip lacks its usual bite, but it breaks the silence between you, and it also seems to break Steve out of whatever spell he'd fallen under.

His tongue pokes out to wet his lips as he searches for an appropriate response, “Maybe we'll just have to keep kissing then.”

You find yourself swaying just a little on your feet at the way his eyes flick slow back and forth between your own, “Maybe we will.”

When his lips descend on your own again, it takes ages before he lets you back up for a decent breath of air, and even then he parts from you with obvious reluctance. You're both breathing heavy, lips a little swollen and shining wetly. Steve's expression has a warmth that you realize you've never actually seen directed at you before. Steve smiles at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and suddenly all you can think about is what Eddie has said a hundred times over.

It’s like there are hearts in his eyes.

#stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x gn!reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve x you #steve x reader #*

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reversequalia · 2 years

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Senior White Two taking this friendship to a whole other level

two months

TWO MONTHS

sometimes you forget how short a time it’s really been since Shuhang began cultivating/since the last time he ascended/etc, because everything happens so much, and then SWR has to remind everyone that HE’S ONLY KNOWN sHUHANG FOR TWO MONTHS

the Lotus Worlds & Senior White Two are so integral to the story at this point that you kind of forget that they haven’t actually been around all that long. TWO MONTHS

but also

two months = a bit less than HALF the amount of time since Shuhang began cultivating

and now he’s at Fifth Stage

absolutely incredible

#cultivation chat group #senior white two #song shuhang #i'm really trying to avoid TOO many spoilers here #bc i rly think these chapters should be experienced for themselves #but i love them so much i can't help it #ngl tho this was not the adaptation of these chapters i was hoping for...#for one thing where is SWR with the sparkle vision #where is their incredible banter about the patterns #we were absolutely robbed #it really not that bad tho and also SWR is gorgeous so it's fine #long post #pls read ccg it's so good

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munsster · 1 year

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hii!! i'd like to request a steve harrington x fem!reader fic pls <33 reader confesses to steve, but he says he doesn't like her. then reader's all 'okay fine, i'm gonna move on' and when she actually does that, steve is 🥺 lots of angst please and some steve grovelling teehee <33

gut feeling

A/N: okay yes 😏 i screwed this up the littlest bit, but i hope it still tickles ur fancy. also i’ve seen this done for king!steve and i wanted to write it for s4 steven

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Summary: You have big feelings for Steve, he’s just not sure he feels the same way. 3.6k words.

Warnings: angst, but it resolves into fluff, unrequited love trope, lots of feelings, friends to lovers?, CURSING!, italics, established friendship, feat. Keith 😑

"You think it would be gross if we kissed?"

Steve thinks you might actually sound hurt, but he also thinks the face he's making is hilarious beyond belief: kind of contorted and screwed inward, nose scrunched and trying really hard to batten down a grin. You glare at him from the passenger's seat, arms crossed tight over your green Family Video vest.

You think he's wonderful despite his naiveté. If only he knew how handsome you thought he was, all caramel locks and big brown eyes and the kind of smile that reaches his eyes before he's even thought of it. No wonder he has an ego up to the moon. No wonder he still manages to weasel his way into the creases and crevices of any living creature's heart. Even yours. Hell, especially yours.

"Yeah, duh!"—and he's so sure of it, you could cry—"You're like the little sister I never had!"

You chuckle but you look like you're about to hurl yourself out of the car or get yourself arrested for manslaughter. Thank God he's only a block away from your house, or he'd never see the light of day again. Does he really think of you like that? The soft laughter peters out into a grating silence that burns right down your throat and feels like hard metal settling in your lungs.

He doesn't dare glance over at you. He only bites down hard around nothing and grimaces, eyes set hard on the lines dashing beneath the grill of his car. Jesus Christ, he does not think of you like that. And he begs whatever stupid pride is keeping him steady in this nonexistent pissing contest to leave it be, but its jaw is set in the tender meat of the game.

"Don't have to be so jovial about it," you grumble.

"What?"

"Mine's on the left," you grumble, nodding out the window. Oh, he's definitely in trouble. You only ignore him like this when he's done something boyish to a fault.

"I know. I drive you home every—hey!"

"Bye," you coo, booking it up the steps to your door, refusing to turn over your shoulder for fear that you'll burst into tears upon seeing him smile or frown or crack the slightest look of confusion.

He watches you slam the door and rolls the passenger window up with a frustrated sigh. Where the Hell did that come from and why. All while you're sitting against the foot of your bed, chattering into the phone at Robin, still wearing your uniform and tugging at strands of your hair as expletives weave themselves between every three words.

"Oh my Fucking God, I'm so fucking embarrassed right now, Robs—Does he—? Does he think I'm some sort of fuckin' baby? I just don't—"

"He's just being Steve, okay? He probably didn't mean it—"

"The way he looked at me, Robin, I felt like a fucking imbecile. Of all the dickheads in the world I could fall for, my heart chose Harrington? Maybe I'm the idiot." You sigh and kick your feet out, the frustration winding up new nerves and letting them go like tight springs to fling out over your body.

She sighs and it rattles through the grainy speaker. "You're not an idiot; he has his moments. Don't beat yourself up, you know how he gets. He's probably not thinking straight, just... tell him? The worst he can say is—"

"That I'm like a sister to him? Oh, how delightful. That's even worse than just flat out admitting I'm unattractive."

"You're not unattractive, don't do that."

"I am to him," you groan.

"Hey," she hums after a beat of crackling silence. You close your eyes and grip the sickly yellow receiver a little tighter.

"I really like him."

"I know."

"And it sucks."

"I know." The other end rustles and you let out a curt sigh just as you move to stand. "I love you, and I'm here for you. Especially when dumb boys make you feel like shit. You'll always be the most amazing and most beautiful girl in my life, don't forget that."

"Thank you. I'll see you, Robs."

"Take it easy."

—

Steve wakes up to an ache in his neck and a soreness in his knuckles. You didn't call him last night. And he's assuming you didn't call him before school this morning because his alarm clock flashes eleven, first period starts at eight-thirty, and the tone his ancient landline emits is shrill enough to deafen a man. Let alone wake him up in a cold sweat. He concocts a sick feeling in his stomach of burnt orange shame and maroon guilt because he has to wait until closing shift tonight to explain himself to you.

But by then, he's feeling spiteful. You weren't home when he went to pick you up and he waited ten minutes and knocked on the door in bulk. Until someone who was not you answered and told him that you'd gotten a ride with some jerk from the Hawkins High football team. That's not how it was originally said, but that's how he heard it. So you're avoiding him? It makes him spit up a little in his mouth, and he's going about twenty over the speed limit the entire way to make it on time.

By the time he can fling open the glass door and hear the sound of the tiny bell, he spots you in the back corner with a stack of tapes under your arm. Listening to music. To drown him out. And it makes him frown. Six hours. That's how long he'd have to endure this, then he could go home and not call you and not be able to sleep.

The casette in your Walkman can only run for so long, right? But he watches you rewind it after an hour and a half and slumps against the front desk when you grab a new stack of tapes from behind him. He simmers down after the first half of the shift, and of course, the fact that you won't talk to him rubs him the wrong way, but what's even worse is that now you're bumming rides off of losers on the worst football team in all of Indiana.

He gets worked up thinking about that guy's motivation and how many times he probably tried to make a pass at you. Steve would never do that to you. Even if he wanted to, he's a gentleman at heart. He could beat that jerk to a pulp just imagining him giving you the look. God forbid that sucker puts his hands on you. Steve would get charged with battery before ever letting that happen.

It's not like he can say anything to you about it either. He's pissed, and he knows himself. He'd get all angry and confrontational, and you deserve better than that. It's his fault you got there first, and it's his fault you got to stocking, and it's his fault you're tuning him out. But he didn't think what he said last night would be worth all that trouble.

"If you keep up the optic blast, I'm gonna buy you a ruby-quartz visored monocle." And that droning voice could only belong to one overbearing manager.

"What do you need, Keith?" Steve grumbles, and out of the corner of his eye, he catches you looking to the front of the store to watch the encounter with a smirk.

"Duty calls, Harrington. Corporate sent us more shelf space. Need someone to unload it into the office," Keith murmurs, shooting a glance your way, "And, uh... it's kind of unwieldy, so get the kid to help you out."

It makes Steve's eye twitch because you're not some kid. And if you heard Keith refer to you as such, you'd unleash a fleet of curses on him. Only Steve is allowed to call you that. Because it's funny, duh. You're a year younger than him, obviously he's going to use that to his comedic advantage. Oh.

He lets out a sigh—"alright"—and leaves Keith to man the front while he skirts to the back of the store and leads you by the hand through the office.

"'The Hell, Harrington?" you hiss, but you keep your fingers locked between Steve's, abandoning the rest of the tapes on Keith's desk and jogging to catch up with his stride. As forward and demanding as his grip may be, you have to admit, the warmth of his palm is comforting and it makes your heart race because you've never held hands with Steve before. And in any other circumstance, you might've been able to enjoy it a little more.

"Keith told me to tell you that you have to help me bring a shelf in from the truck."

"Oh, I have to?" you bark, now pulling your hand away and putting your headphones around your neck once you exit through the back door with him. "And you didn't think to give me a warning before yanking on my arm?"

"Yes, you have to, and maybe if you weren't listening to that shit so loud, you would've been in the loop." It comes out far more harsh than he intended, and that was exactly what he was afraid of happening in a confrontation with you. His brow softens, and the tension in his upper back and jaw dissipates into his own self-pity party. "And I didn't yank on your arm. Or at least I didn't mean to, so I'm sorry for that much."

Steve hops up into the truck and offers you a hand you don't take as much as you both wish you would have. Because he looks like a kicked puppy, and you have to stop yourself from cheering yourself on. Maybe this will be your first literal step towards getting over him. Once and for all.

After about fifteen minutes of heaving and ho-ing, the two of you manage to haul the shelf into the office as per Keith's request. He was right: it was unwieldy. The awkward grip spots caused a lot of overlap, and you both flinched away from the physical contact in a matter of milliseconds. But Steve couldn't deny he felt bad, and you couldn't deny that you definitely still had feelings for him.

You grab your previously abandoned stack of tapes to scurry out of the office, but Steve stops you by the elbow. And you glare back at him.

"Sorry. The... yanking, I know"—he shoves his hands in his pockets and looks down—"Look, I'm not entirely sure what happened last night in the car, but it clearly made you uncomfortable, and I'd like to apologize."

He can see the neurons firing when he looks you in the eye, but he can also see that his apology wasn't effective in the slightest. Because you're still anger-ridden and fuming at him. You put your headphones on and go back to restocking shelves.

He checks the digital clock above the door. Two hours till eleven. Great.

And they creep by like refrigerated molasses. Second by second. Every time he glances at the clock, only a minute has passed. Eventually, though, he starts cleaning up for closing: vacuuming, cleaning the windows, fixing the display. And he finds himself getting a little more efficient at checking tapes back in and rewinding them only so you'll cruise by the front—scowling at him, but nonetheless at him—to grab a new stack and shelf it.

Five minutes to closing and a sleek, blue sedan pulls into the parking lot, and you practically beam at it, grinning and skipping to the front. You grab your bag from under the counter next to Steve's hip and shove your Walkman into it.

"You know, my car works perfectly fine," he grumbles, "don't have to replace me with some football jerk." He knows that struck a nerve because your smile immediately flickers away into a squint.

"That football jerk is bilingual, a painter, and lets me listen to the music I like in his car."

"But that's not the rules," he whines, desperately defending himself against some sports guy who's probably taking advantage of you.

"Well, I like him and he's nice to me." You sling your bag over your shoulder triumphantly, marching towards the door.

Steve is aghast at the implication. He thought you liked listening to the radio. Plus he took Spanish and art for the required two years, it's not that great of an achievement.

Still, he sputters out, "Yeah, well—"

You wave over your shoulder. "Later, Steve."

Since when did he become such a loser.

He watches jerk-face open the car door for you then glance over to wave at him with a perfect smile and perfect hair and perfect manners. What an asshole. Steve does not wave back.

—

"That's the kinda guy she likes?" he fusses into the phone, palming his face while Robin chuckles on the other line. This whole time he thought for sure you liked the self-assured, cocky, college-age boy type. And now you're dating a high schooler. Come on, jerk-face is not even that good looking.

"First of all, they're not dating. Second of all, don't lie to make yourself feel better; even I can admit he's basically a Greek god," Robin says, shoving a handful of popcorn into her mouth. "Third... why do you care? You’re acting like it’s your job to protect her, but it’s not. She’s an adult now, you know, she can take her of herself.”

He lets out a puff of air through his nose, blinking hard and leaning into the pale yellow receiver. Then mumbling: "She told you."

And she replies, cheerily: "Yup."

"Well—! I just... don't want to see her get hurt. I know that type of guy. I used to be that type of guy. He's bad news, I can tell."

"Right,” Robin scoffs, “It's definitely not because you love her.”

"I don't love her. She's just a baby, and we don't even like the same things. It would never work out between us, there's no connection." They both know it’s a lame excuse, but it’s worked up until this moment. It’s worked since the day you met. You’re too young, the end. Sure, you can be cute sometimes, but you’re also a pain in the ass and you two could never get along long enough to stitch together a real relationship.

But Robin sees through all of that shit. And she’s over it.

“Okay, maybe, but she listens when you talk about cars, and you buy the albums she likes even when she only mentions them once. Plus, you both love Dustin like he's an extra limb”—she’s right, you love that kid to death and Lord knows Steve looks after him like a son—“I think as much as you wretch and complain over her being too young and the connection not 'being there', it seems like you try an awful lot to get her to like you."

He immediately rejects the idea with a scoff.

"Of course I’d want a cool person to like me, old fuckin’ habits die hard. But that's all. She's cool and has a good sense of style and tells the best jokes and makes me feel smart and listens to me, and right now I'm feeling pretty crazy because maybe I do love her and I blew it because... because? Because I don’t know why—but she's probably sitting in some jerk's car listening to her favorite songs and watching him paint the sunset while speaking Spanish or whatever."

Robin closes her eyes, and Steve’s annoyed by the fact that he can hear her smirking. "Jesus Christ, I need to start charging you idiots for my time"—and she sighs—"Just... tell her all that cheese. And maybe throw in an apology or two. I don't know, do what you usually do when you pick up girls.”

He’s frustrated. And annoyed. But he throws a thanks at her anyway and stomps down the stairs and to his beamer. It’s not until he’s shrouded in the piercing light of the convenience store that he realizes three things: he’s still in his work uniform, it’s midnight, and he’s pretty sure he does love you. He grabs a bouquet, not even realizing it’s a bouquet of amaryllis and baby’s breath—he’d prefer roses, but ‘tis not the season, as the cashier told him.

Minutes later, he’s muttering under his breath like he’s mad, waiting for someone to answer your door. And thank God you do.

“Steve—?”

“Oh, shit, did I—were you—?”

“Oh, no, I was just…”—thinking about him—“nothin’. What’re you doing here?”

He pushes a furious hand through his hair, then tucks a chunk behind his ear, worrying at his bottom lip. More nervous than he’s been in his whole life. Then he flashes those soft brown eyes at you, and you’re toast. You step onto your doormat and shut the door behind you because he starts into his sentence like a blazing fire:

"I feel so stupid, and I’m sorry for saying you're like a little sister to me; I don’t believe that, and it couldn’t be further from the truth. You're not like a sister to me, you're like the only thing that matters and I feel like I wanna learn another language for you and take a cooking class for you and listen to your music with you. I just, I mean I’m trying to say you make me want to be a better person, and I feel like I’m already a better person whenever I’m around you. I... what I’m saying—and I promise I’m getting to it—is that I’m sorry for being so stupid and not seeing it before, but I think you're beautiful and I'd be honored if you'd forgive me and maybe consider letting me take you out sometime. Like on a date."

He’s breathing heavily, looking and feeling manic, and your eyes are wide as you slowly process his confession. It goes down like sweet wine, floral down your throat and settling in your tummy like candy. But still: what the fuck? Is he insane? Are you insane?

His hair is flopped to one side, and his work vest is snug around his shoulders. You step forward slowly, and the creases in his forehead seem to go smooth. And you point to the bouquet.

“For me?”

Steve glances down. "Oh, yeah, got em for you. Sorry they're not roses, it's not—"

"I love them, thank you."

He nods. And you smile. And despite how beautiful the soft pink and white flowers are, you’re not particularly focused on their safety when you hook your arms beneath his and rope him into a hug. It’s clearly just what he needed when he goes pliant and heavy against your chest, smiling into your neck as his hands wrap over your shoulders.

"I think we might both be stupid,” you whisper.

He chuckles. "Yup. Just a couple of stupids. Geez, what kinda pair are we?" You both pull away. Only to look at each other squarely. To see a smile creep and creep across the other’s face. And he cocks a brow and says, "By the way, worst twenty-four hours of my life—"

And that’s saying something after the last three years.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Steve, I was just so—"

"I know."

"So confused and disappointed, it was—"

"Torture, yeah, don't even think about doing that ever again,” he teases, pinching your side and scrunching his nose when you pinch him back.

"Yeah. Well, never tell me I’m like a little sister to you ever again.”

Gross.

"I don't plan on it"

With the slow bat of your lashes, and the tender curve of your lips, he can’t not think about kissing you. Not in this light. Not under the meddling moon, and not holding your waist like cupping pools of honey.

Then you look away. For all the shit you talk, he manages to make you far more shy than he ever anticipates. And it gives him butterflies to see you duck away.

"You know, I think you're pretty beautiful yourself, Harrington.”

Oh, he’s blushing now. The blood gushes hot to his face, he could sweat buckets right here and now. You can probably hear his heartbeat. Jesus Christ, what’ve you done to him? You can tell he’s nervous when he chuckles softly. "Does this mean I can start giving you rides again?"

You pretend to weigh your options. As if there would ever be a better alternative. "Only if you let me play my music sometimes.”

"Absolutely. I never liked the radio much anyway."

You let go of him only to cradle your bouquet in both hands, admiring the petals while Steve puts his hands back in his pockets.

"Then I'll see you later," he says. Grinning ear to ear, mind you.

"Yeah,” you coo, “I’ll see you."

With one hand on his shoulder, you plant a kiss on his willing cheek and let him go. But before he can make it to his car you holler, “Wait!” and he jogs back over to you.

"Did I forget somethin’?"

“Yeah,” you poke, "you forgot about our date."

He tilts his head a little, brows furrowed. "Our... our date? What do you mean our… Ohhhh”—he nods in understanding, suddenly hit with a wave of excitement and embarrassment—"Does tomorrow work? We could grab lunch or dinner or something and maybe stop by the arcade or—oh, the fair's in town, that could be kinda fun, unless you don't want to, I mean—"

"Steve?" you hum.

“Mhm?”

"I'd love to."

And suddenly his ego is miles through the roof; he's nodding and grinning and it’s like he can’t wait to wake up tomorrow just to see you again.

"Me too. Okay. Yeah! I'll see you then."

"Bye, Stevie.” You give him a small wave, and the shroud of plastic around the bouquet crinkles like the corners of his eyes at the idea of tomorrow.

masterlist

#steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #unrequited crush #stranger things #x reader #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x reader #fluff #steve harrington #st4 #stranger things 4 #x fem!reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #angst #best friends to lovers #friends to lovers

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pinksturniolo · 27 days

Text

Robbers - A Chris Sturniolo One Shot (AU)

Chris Sturniolo x Fem Reader

Summary: Your boyfriend Chris Sturniolo is a part of The Disciples, one of the most notorious Portuguese gangs in Boston. For the past year and a half, you’ve witnessed him take part in the most dangerous crimes. But what happens when one day, you're forced to participate with him? You know it’s extremely toxic and goes against all your morals. Despite that, you just can’t help the way you love him, the way you would do anything for him. Even rob a gas station.

Content Warnings: smut, raw penetration, fingering, oral, themes of criminal activity and violence, mentions of shooting, guns, and blood. descriptions of gunshot wounds, gun play, drugs and drug use, smoking, use of alcohol, murder, robbery, toxic relationship

a/n: I do not condone any actions in this story or promote gun violence. I do not intend in any way shape or form to offend anyone. This is one is a little dark and has a lot of mature themes as well as a gun kink, which can be uncomfortable for people. Please only read what you can handle. <3

word count: 6,452 (!!!!) ik it's long but pls read it all, i spent a lot of time on this one.

Watch this music video before reading, just trust me: The 1975 - Robbers (Official Video) (Explicit) (youtube.com)

Fall 2025

You drop your cigarette to the ground, your sneaker snuffing out the cherry as you crush it against the wet concrete. There’s a light drizzle tonight, temperatures dipping as early September arrives in the city of Boston.

You sigh, leaning your head against the brick wall and tucking your hands into the hoodie of your pocket. What’s taking him so long?

Your boyfriend had been inside the house for 30 minutes now and it was making you nervous. Each time you went with him to these types of jobs, you were scared. You would never let him see that, but you were always worried something bad was going to happen.

Granted, he knew how to take care of himself perfectly fine, but it was the other people he was meeting up with you didn’t trust. You were constantly on edge every time you would wait for him, anxious whether he would come back to you alive.

He didn’t like the idea of you coming along with him at first, but when you convinced him it didn’t make a difference whether you stayed home and waited for him or if you came along, he eventually gave in, making you take a gun with you just in case you needed to use it.

He had taken his time to teach you how to hold and shoot it properly, making sure you wouldn’t fuck up and accidentally shoot yourself. He taught you a lot of things, like how to throw a good punch without breaking your hand, how to roll a blunt the right way, how to steal from the liquor store without getting caught.

You met Chris almost a year and a half ago now, at a mansion party one of your friends had dragged you to one night. She begged you to go, saying her friend Jonah there knew a guy, who knew a guy, that knew this one guy that had the best weed in the city.

She failed to mention this guy was a member of The Disciples. His name was Chris Sturniolo and he was known to beat up anyone who crossed him. You had heard rumors before about him, he sold a lot of drugs, and he didn’t fuck around when it came to his money.

So naturally, you were a little intimidated when you were introduced, sitting next to him on the large plush white couch. His friends sat around him, smoking and talking amongst themselves, and you noticed the looks they gave you and your friend. You definitely stuck out like a sore thumb.

“Hi, I’m Layla, my friend Jonah said you could get me some K2.” Your friend said, like she had done this a thousand times before.

“What’s up Layla. Who’s your friend?” Chris asked, looking straight to you.

You fought the urge to shrink into the couch, his piercing gaze burning into you. His long hair stuck out from his beanie, smoke filtering through his nose as he inhaled the joint he was puffing on.

“Uh, this is Y/N.” She replies, looking at you hesitantly. “She’s a little shy.”

You smiled awkwardly, the look in his eyes still making you squirm in your seat.

“You look too good to be here, mama.” he says, grabbing a baggie from his pocket, handing it to Layla. She takes it, getting the money from her pocket to give in return but he simply shakes his head. “Keep it.”

She looks shocked, looking at you again and you shrug, unsure why this drug dealer is giving you both a free pass. His eyes haven’t left you, looking you up and down without shame. You feel like he’s undressing you with his eyes but the longer you make eye contact with him, you don’t feel uncomfortable. You feel curious, like there’s a magnetic pull in between you two.

“Want a taste?” he asks, motioning with his head for you to come closer, holding out the joint for you to try.

You hesitate for a few seconds before you scoot closer to him on the couch, your thigh now brushing his. He smirks and holds the joint close to your mouth as you close the gap, leaning forward a little to wrap your lips around it, slightly touching his fingertips.

You take a small hit, inhaling the smoke into your lungs as you lean back into place, his eyes on your mouth as you exhale.

Your friend Laya feels the obvious tension that’s now in the room, watching the interaction between you two. “I’m gonna go find Jonah.” She says to you, and you simply nod, never breaking eye contact with Chris.

The loud music of the party vibrates through the room, making it hard to hear but you don’t need to exchange words to know what you both are thinking. He takes another hit, holding the smoke in his mouth as he leans even closer to you, placing a hand on your jaw, silently telling you to open your mouth. When you do, he hovers his lips over yours, blowing the smoke into your mouth and you inhale, holding it for a few seconds until you blow it out.

He then moves his head down, placing a single soft kiss on your neck, directly under your jaw and whispers in your ear, “Meet me in the bathroom.”

Needless to say, you’ve been attached to each other since that night, a whirlwind romance from the start.

Chris finally comes around the side of the house, backpack around his shoulder. You sigh in relief, and he smiles when he sees you, putting an arm around your waist as you walk next to him towards the car. “Worried about me, baby?” He teases, opening the passenger side door for you.

“Always.” You reply and he closes the door, walking around to get into the driver’s seat, throwing the bag in the back. He takes off, one hand on the steering wheel and the other rests on your thigh. You can’t help but notice something a little off about him though. He’s not very talkative like he usually is, and his hand grips the wheel a little too hard, his body tense.

“Chris, what happened in there? Why did it take so long?” You ask, looking at him until he finally makes eye contact with you. And what you see makes your stomach turn because you see an emotion across his face that you’ve never seen before.

Fear.

He licks his lips nervously, looking back to the road. He knows that you noticed. “We’ll talk once we get back to the house, okay?” he replied, giving a reassuring squeeze on your thigh.

You were only about 10 or 15 minutes away, but you had a strong feeling that something was really wrong. “Don’t bullshit me. Tell me now.” You demand. He looks at you, not liking the tone of your voice. “Please.” You add a little softer and he sighs, knowing that you wouldn’t let it go that easily.

“The deal went fine. Jason seemed to be satisfied with the profit from last month. But he wants me to do a job next weekend…” He starts, looking more nervous by the minute.

“Okay? What job?” You pry, not understanding what was wrong. Jason is Chris’s “boss” and usually gives the orders on what to do. He also supplies Chris with all the drugs he needs to sell, cutting him in on half the earnings. Which is considered generous in his line of work. As long as Chris does whatever he asks.

“He wants me to hit a gas station. The one on the corner of South Street. But it’s not just any old gas station. It’s a front for a drug spot and they’re stealing a lot of our customers. So, I gotta bust it. But Jason doesn’t want anyone dead, he’s gonna have some of his guys go in after I’m done and take them to the warehouse. I just gotta get away with the cash and drugs.” He explains.

“By yourself? What about Tommy?” You ask. Tommy was one of Chris’s partners and usually went on jobs like these with him.

Chris stays silent for a few minutes, his eyes focused on the road. He makes a left turn, both hands on the wheel now. The streetlights passing cast a yellow tinted light into the car, and you can see whatever internal struggle is going through his head right now on his face.

“Chris?” You say quietly, leaning forward to try and get him to look at you.

He doesn’t though, his jaw clenching and hands tightening on the wheel.

“Not by myself… He wants me to bring you.” he finally says quietly.

You’re unsure of what to say, not really processing what he’s telling you.

“What do you mean? Bring me with you to the job? Isn’t that what I’ve been doing?” You ask, utterly confused about what’s going on.

“I mean he wants you to do the job with me. Be my partner.” He replies, now pulling into the driveway of his house and putting the car in park. Now he turns to fully face you and his expression is a mix of anger and regret.

“Ever since you started tagging along with me, Jason hasn’t liked it. He says this work is no place for a woman. I really don’t give a fuck about what he says, I never have. I’m not stupid, I know I’m risking a lot by even having you around someone like me. But I told you from the start, I will always protect you. Nothing and no one is gonna lay a fucking finger on you.” He says, his hand coming up to stroke your face.

You grab his wrist, holding his hand there. “Hold on- he wants me to help you rob the gas station?” You ask, your heart racing as you now understand what Chris means. You knew Jason never liked you, you got a dark vibe from him the few times you had been around him. In fact, you don’t think he liked anybody. Chris told you many stories of how ruthless he could be.

“Baby, you’re not doing anything he says okay? I’ll take care of it.” He said, the tone in his voice making it clear he doesn’t want to discuss this any further.

Before you can question him more, he gets out of the car and comes around to open your door, helping you out and closing it behind you as you both walk into the house and upstairs to his room.

He takes off his hoodie and shirt, and turns on the shower, letting the water run so it can warm up.

“Chris… If I don’t go with you, who’s going to?” You ask, the gears turning in your head.

He shakes his head, looking at you with an unreadable expression. “No one.”

You furrow your brows in confusion, still not grasping the big picture here. “You can’t go by yourself. That would be too dangerous.” You speak.

“Y/N, please stop. We’re not talking about this anymore, okay? I’ve told you enough already.” He replies shortly, taking off his jewelry and setting it on the bedside table.

“Just answer me one thing.” You continue, determined to get the full story. “What happens if you go against what Jason says and do the job by yourself?”

Chris doesn’t respond. He doesn’t even look at you. You know that you probably pissed him off now by pressing him for answers, but you didn’t care. You deserved to know the full situation. If he was in danger, you needed to know.

A few minutes go by, steam starting to fill the room from the shower. He simply sits at the edge of the bed with his back to you, running a hand through his hair.

“Chris. What are you not telling me?” You say, your voice slightly rising and there’s a hint of desperation as the pit in your stomach grows. There was something completely off here.

“Fuck.” You hear him silently curse before he finally tells you. “If I don’t make you do the job with me, I’m dead. It’s his sick fucking way of showing his power over me. He knows that I won’t put you in danger. So, he’s using my life as leverage.” His head is now turned slightly towards you, staring at the spot on the bed next to you. He’s afraid to look you in the eyes.

You’re speechless as he gets up and goes into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Tears fill your eyes, and you feel sick to your stomach. It seems you’re now faced with an impossible choice.

Either risk your life and freedom to commit armed robbery or have Chris murdered by his sadistic gang boss.

When Chris finally comes out of the bathroom, you’ve created a lake of tears on your pillow from crying so hard. You’re extremely upset with him for dropping that bomb on you and just leaving you there in shock. But honestly, you probably would’ve just argued with him till your lungs gave out and maybe it was a good thing he left you alone to process.

You know Chris too well to know that he’s made his mind up about the deal Jason has given him. He’s going to give up his life just so you don’t have to risk yours. But you’ve just as equally made up your mind as well. There’s no fucking way you’re letting Chris go by himself on that job.

“Baby… I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.” He says, getting in bed next to you. You’re faced away from him and he lays close to you, snaking his arm around your waist and pressing kisses to your shoulder. “I know thisis fucking crazy, okay? But I couldn’t keep it from you. Don’t worry, okay? Everything’s going to be- “You cut him off, turning around abruptly to look at him.

“I’m going on that job with you. There’s no way in hell I’m letting you go alone.” You interrupt. His face is soft, obviously not taking you seriously and he brushes your hair back, letting his hand trail down to rest on your shoulder.

“Just get some rest, Y/N. We’ll talk about it tomorrow.” he replies.

“No Chris, I’m serious. You’ve taught me how to take care of myself, right? And we have until next week, we can plan- “You start but he shakes his head, placing his hand back on your jaw, his thumb softly rubbing across your lips, stopping you from continuing.

“No. I don’t want you getting into this. This is not up for debate. This is dangerous now.” He says sternly.

You grab his hand from your face, a little roughly, now placing a hand on his neck, looking deeply in his eyes. “Do you really think I give a fuck about how dangerous this is? Chris, I’ve been by your side through a lot of shit. If we can just get through this job and do what Jason says, we’ll be fine. No one is dying, okay? I love you and you’re going to let me help you. And that’s the end of the discussion.” You tell him, a flicker of emotions crossing his face as you speak.

He doesn’t say anything. He simply wraps his arms around you, pulling him into you and you lay your head on his chest while you both drift off to sleep.

✰

It takes a few days for Chris to accept the fact you’ll be going on the job with him. He’s a little distant from you at first, angry with you for what you’ve decided but mostly just afraid of what will happen. Since he’s met you, he’s wanted nothing more than to keep you safe. He knows his lifestyle is not good for you, not good for anyone. And now that it’s come to this point of putting you directly in the line of danger, he’s scared shitless. And he wants to kill Jason for putting both of you in this position.

But he goes over the plan with you, making sure you know every step.

Tommy will drop off both of you across the street from the store, and once you get inside, you’ll only have 30 minutes to get in and out. You’ll hold the cashier at gunpoint while Chris goes in the back office where the drugs and money is supposed to be stashed.

There will probably be another guy back there, but he’ll take care of him. As soon as Chris is done, a couple of Jason’s men will come in and finish the job, taking the rivals to him, and you both can leave with Tommy. The gas station is only a few miles from the Disciples’ warehouse, so once you get there you can drop off the goodies and be done.

Easy, right?

Chris goes over the steps again at least a dozen times on the day before the job. You start to get irritated, and he notices, giving you a hard look as your eyes glaze over when he’s talking. “Y/N. Pay attention, please.” He says, as he unloads the bullets from his .45, taking it apart to clean it.

You roll your eyes and rest your chin in your hands from where you sit on the bed. “Chris, I know the plan already. Can we talk about something else now?” You whine, watching him as he puts the gun back together.

He smirks at the tone in your voice. “Just making sure, baby.” he replies.

You can’t help but stare at him as he puts the parts of the gun back together, his arms flexing with his movements, veins in his hands popping out. A pair of black sweatpants hangs lowly on his hips, his shirt is off, and his hair is messy from the nap you took together earlier.

Also, the little pink pill you popped with Chris about 20 minutes ago is starting to take effect as you feel a slight floating sensation in your body, your heart rate picking up just a little. The air around you becomes intensified and Chris looks over at you, noticing your longing stare.

“You good?” He asks, eyes travelling down your body to your bare legs hanging off the edge of his bed. The only thing you have on is an old t-shirt of his and your black panties.

“Mhm.” You nod, staring at the gun in his hands.

There was just something so hot about him holding it like that.

He walks over, now standing in front of you, and places a finger under your jaw, tilting your head up to look at him. Your eyes are glossy and low, and he sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, admiring how pretty you look like this.

“You high baby?” He says lowly, and you reply with a nod of your head as he holds one side of your face in his hand, bringing the gun up to lightly stroke over the other side.

This causes a chill to run down your spine, wetness immediately pooling in your underwear. You’re not scared. You trust Chris completely, even if it was loaded.

He then lets it trail down further slowly, over your neck and between your breasts, dipping down your stomach to in between your thighs where he teasingly rubs it over your panties, bumping against your clit.

You sigh into his hand that’s gripping your jaw and his thumb slips into your mouth. You swirl your tongue around him, looking up into his eyes. His pupils are blown out, watching you get pleasure from his weapon between your legs.

You know its crazy but the sexual energy behind it turns you on more than anything.

He removes it suddenly, placing it on the bed and before you can whine in protest, he climbs on the mattress behind you, instructing you to scoot back so he rests against the pillows, and you sit in between his legs. There’s a large mirror in front of the bed and you lean back against his chest and watch while he trails his hands down your arms, and then your hips, resting on top of your thighs and squeezing.

Your head falls back as he places his lips on your neck, kissing softly and sucking at the skin there, leaving his mark on you. He massages your inner thighs, thumbs brushing close to where you need him the most.

“Don’t tease me.” You breathe, gripping his knee, one hand going up behind you to tug on his hair.

“What do you need, baby?” He mumbles into your neck, his hand now pressing over your underwear, palming your heat. You buck your hips slightly, pulling harder on his hair. He grunts into you, his other hand squeezing your waist. You feel his hardness growing, pressing into your ass.

“I need you. Please.” You whimper, your head resting against his shoulder. He gives into you, loving the way you beg for him, and dips his fingers into your underwear, slicking through your folds, arousal coating his fingers.

“So wet for me…” He rasps, rubbing your clit in slow, agonizing circles, making you melt into him. You moan out loud, sinking your teeth into his neck as he pushes your panties to the side now, and moves his fingers down to your entrance, pushing one in all the way to the knuckle and then pulling it all the way out, once again going back up to massage your clit.

He’s torturing you and you’re a mess beneath him, leaking out onto the sheets, squirming from the pleasure and he holds you down firmly. “Chris, please.” You beg, unsure what you’re trying to say as he has you in a state of bliss.

“Be a good girl for me.” He responds firmly, watching you in the mirror as he thrusts two fingers back inside you, stretching you out, wetness coating his hand. He moves at a faster pace now, curling as he pushes them deeper. He holds you tight, your head thrown back in ecstasy, puffing hot breaths against his neck, sweet moans filling his ear.

“Fuck, Chris, just like that.” You whine, feeling a familiar warmth in your abdomen build. He doesn’t stop, his thumb now circling your clit, his fingers hitting your g spot with each thrust.

“Look at me baby.” He demands and you lift your head up, making eye contact with him in the mirror, watching as he fucks you with his hand, your legs spread open for him.

“I’m so close.” You moan, the sparks of pleasure he’s created spreading within you. You move your hips with each thrust of his fingers into you, Chris moaning with you as your ass repeatedly grinds back against him.

“Already, mama?” He teases, unable to hide the smugness from the fact he’s always able to make you finish quickly.

“Chris.” Is all you can manage as his fingers continue to slip in and out of you, pushing you to the edge.

“I know, baby, you’ve been so good for me. You can cum baby, cum on my fingers.” He praises, and his arm is around you, holding you as your body shakes, basically riding his hand at this point. Seconds later, you release the tension that’s been building, crying out loudly as warmth floods your body, thighs clenching and your juices releasing onto the sheets beneath you.

You’re extremely tired now, your body relaxing against him as he slowly moves from under you, getting up from the bed to grab a towel to clean you up.

He does so, rubbing your legs gently, brushing your hair back from your face as you lay against the pillows. He presses a kiss to your forehead, laying down next to you.

“Get some rest, baby.” he says quietly, cuddling close to you as your eyes grow heavy. “But Chris, don’t you want- “you start, knowing he needs to be attended to as well.

He shakes his head softly. “Not now, mama. Too stressed over tomorrow. Let’s just go to sleep.” He answers, and you sigh, wrapping your arms around him and falling asleep.

✰

It’s a dark, cold night in the city, no heat in the van as you sit in the back with Chris, pulling your hood up onto your head. You’re parked in the alleyway across from the gas station, hidden from anyone who might be out on the streets.

You bounce your leg in nervousness, feeling the hard metal of the gun in your hoodie pocket. He places a hand on your thigh, trying to calm you down. “You can still back out of this you know.” He says and you lace your fingers through his, shaking your head. “I’m fine. You’re not going in there alone. I’m just a little nervous.” You respond.

Tommy sits in the driver’s seat, smoking a cigarette and passes it to you. You take a drag, trying to calm your nerves down.

“It’s okay, Y/N. 30 minutes, in and out, and we’ll be good, okay? Just remember the plan.” Chris reassures you, giving you a kiss before he pulls his ski mask on. He has a black long sleeve on and black pants, his gun tucked in his waistband.

You tie your bandana on, only your eyes visible, your hair tied back under your hoodie. “Come on.” He says, sliding the door open and helping you out. “Pull up when you see us come out.” He tells Tommy, who nods as Chris shuts the door.

He turns to you, his eyes soft and places his hands on your shoulders. “Last chance, baby. Are you sure you wanna do this?” He asks.

“Yes, I’m not bailing on you now. Please, let’s get this over with.” You say and he pulls you in, hugging you tightly before you both cross the street quickly.

It’s 1 am, the streetlights glow on the pavement, the open sign of the gas station blinking.

He gives you one last look before he pulls open the door, both of you raising your guns at the man standing at the register.

There’s a pure look of shock and terror on his face as he raises his hands in the air. Your eyes scan the store, grateful to see nobody else inside. “Don’t make one fucking move!!” Chris screams at him as he moves toward the back door behind the counter.

You stand in front, keeping your gun aimed at his head. The man’s eyes flicker between you and Chris, his hands shake slightly. You feel bad for him but then remember how Chris told you he’s involved in one of their rival gangs and probably has done worse than you.

Chris kicks open the back door, and you watch as he disappears into the room, hearing him shout at one of the men that must be in there. You can’t make out what he says though and focus back on the clerk. You keep your expression blank as he stares at you, his arms still raised.

“Did Michael set me up?” He says and he flinches as you move your gun closer to him.

“Shut the fuck up.” You say, refusing to engage in conversation with him. You assume he must be referring to his boss, and he’s unaware that his operation has actually been busted by the Disciples.

As if he can read your mind, he speaks up again. “I just started this job. Michael hired me to run the register here, I had no idea what was going on in the back. I thought he only owned this place, I didn’t know who he really was.”

You furrow your brows in confusion at his words. Was he saying that he didn’t know his boss was actually a gang leader? You now realize he looks very young, like he could still be in high school.

You shake your head, your gun never wavering from your aim at him. “Stop fucking talking!!” You yell. For all you know, he could just be making this up, trying to mess with your head.

What was taking so long?

Chris was still in the back, and you couldn’t hear anything.

“Please, you gotta listen to me-“The clerk starts again but he’s interrupted by a gun shot popping off in the back, making you flinch and your heart instantly drop.

You panic and Chris suddenly runs out, large duffle bag on his shoulder, while you hear the man in the back scream, “Shoot him!” He sounds in pain and you get a glance of him on the floor, his leg bleeding and it’s obvious now that the gunshot was from Chris.

Before either of you can react, the clerk pulls a gun out from under the counter, aiming it at Chris.

It all happened in the blink of an eye.

Bam!

The sound of the gunshot rang out, making you lose your ability to hear for the next few seconds as you watched Chris go down, clutching his stomach in pain. Blood started to spill out on his hands, staining his shirt a crimson color. The gas station clerk was as shocked as you were, standing there frozen, gun still pointed.

You don’t know how or why, but you just knew you both wouldn’t get out alive from this if you didn’t do something.

So, you shot back, aiming for his shoulder. It hit him right where you intended as he doubled over immediately, screaming in pain.

You grab Chris who was still on the floor, helping him stand up. “Baby, come on. Please, we have to go now.” You plead. He grabs onto you, able to stand as you lead him out of the store.

He’s moving as fast as he possibly can, one arm around your shoulder, his other hand covering his wound. You see the van pull up on the other side of the street, your heart beating out of your chest.

You’re trying not to panic, looking up and down the street for any signs of police. There was hardly anyone out. Chris almost falls, shouting out in pain. “Fuck!” He yells and you stop him from falling.

You can barely hold him up, but you use all your strength to make it the last few steps to the van.

“I know baby, I’m so sorry. We’re almost there, Chris, just a few more feet. You can do it.” You say, and he’s shaking, still gripping onto you for dear life. You finally make it to the van, the door sliding open, Tommy helping you both in before he quickly shuts it and then hops back into the driver seat, taking off down the street.

“Holy shit, what the fuck happened in there?!” he says, looking at both of you with wide eyes.

“Shut the fuck up. I need to stop him from bleeding out. I’ll tell you later.” You snap, taking off your hoodie and wrapping it around Chris’s torso. You apply pressure, glancing at him.

He’s pale, breathing rapidly and panic in his eyes as he looks at you. You grab his face with your other hand, brushing his hair back. “It’s okay baby. Don’t worry. We’ll get back to the house soon and get you bandaged up, okay?” You reassure him, trying to keep yourself from crying.

He nods his head, grabbing your hand tightly as he winces in pain.

What the fuck did you just get yourself into? The many times you and Chris had gone over the plan, and it still didn’t go accordingly. Now Chris was wounded and the drugs and money you were supposed to retrieve still at the store. You’re not sure how you both are going to get out of this.

You tell Tommy to drop you guys off at Chris’s house instead of the warehouse. Once you get there, he helps you take Chris inside and you tell him to lay low for now, until Chris gives him the next order. He leaves, and you silently pray Jason doesn’t get to him before you guys decide what to do, or worse, get to Chris.

He’s lying on his back on the bed, and you put a pillow under his head, trying to make him comfortable. He winces in pain as you take your hoodie off from around his waist, his hands gripping the sheets harshly. You pull his shirt up. The bleeding is very little now but it’s all over his shirt and stomach, as well as your hands and you get clean, damp towels and bandages for him.

Luckily the bullet only grazed him, you notice as you clean him up, not seeing a deep wound.

You’re almost done putting the gauze and bandage on, making sure it’s tight as he looks at you, and grabs your arm, stroking it softly.

“Are you okay? I’m sorry mama.” He says weakly and you give him a soft smile. “Don’t be sorry. Just be glad we both got out alive. Are you okay?” You say and he nods. You help him pull his shirt off, his wound now clean and bandaged. You give him some water and a left-over Vicodin he had in his stash, hoping that will help with his pain.

You sit next to him on the bed now, running your hands across his chest and shoulders, his eyes closed at the feeling of your soft hands.

“Chris… what do we do now?” You ask, knowing you can’t avoid the inevitable.

He looks at you, his hand resting on your knee. “I never told you this, but I have an older brother who lives in Vermont. I’ve been thinking about going there for a while now… starting over with you.” He responds. “Would you go with me?”

“Baby… I would go anywhere with you.” You say and lean down to press your lips to his.

You kiss him softly, careful not to hurt him. You start to pull away, but he holds your face there, deepening the kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth. He moans at the contact, making you throb in your core, but you pull away, not wanting it to go any further.

“Chris. We can’t, you’re hurt right now.” You say but he shakes his head, pulling you back to him.

“I don’t care, I need you Y/N.” He replies and kisses you again. You give in, allowing him to mesh his tongue with yours again. You suck his bottom lip, nipping it lightly with your teeth and trail your hand down his chest, making sure to avoid the spot where his wound is, feeling his stomach tense under you.

He groans into your mouth as you palm over his crotch, already rock hard and straining through his jeans. “Fuck, mama. Don’t tease me.” He breathes, as you rub your hand back and forth over him, feeling yourself grow wet at the sound of his voice.

If it was any other instance, you would drag it on and make him beg for it like he does with you, but you didn’t want to do that to him right now.

“Don’t worry baby, I’m gonna take care of you.” You say softly, unbuttoning his jeans as he lifts his hips, sliding them down his legs and removing his boxers.

His long, thick cock lays against his stomach and you grab it pressing a kiss to the tip and then letting a pool of saliva drip down him, coating him before you take him all the way down your throat, your nose brushing his pelvis. “Fuuuck…” He moans out, his hands holding your hair back from your face, pulling it into a ponytail.

You gag slightly, but quickly adjust to his size, bobbing your head up and down him. Your hands rest on his thighs, and you hum around him as he pulls a little on your hair, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip from the feeling of you taking all of him in your throat.

“Yes, baby, feels so good. You look so pretty with my dick in your mouth.” He groans, making you moan again and he’s gently bucking his hips up, already feeling himself close.

You continue for a few good minutes, pausing only to catch your breath, your hand jerking him up and down before he pulls you up, helping you remove your clothes as he gives you a needy look.

“Come here, please. I wanna cum inside you so bad.” He says and you waste no time, sinking down onto him, the pleasure making you both cry out. You lay on top of him, your hands in his hair and kiss his neck, starting to grind yourself down on him.

“Is this okay baby? You’re not hurting?” You check, making sure not to put too much pressure on his lower stomach.

“Fuck no. Don’t stop.” He replies, grabbing your hips and helping you ride him.

He’s moaning in your ear, and you continue sucking and kissing his neck, leaving hickeys on his skin. You clench around him, your hips rolling, the feeling of his tip kissing your g spot making you soak all over him.

It’s only a few minutes before you’re both panting and sweating, the sounds of your wetness and skin against skin filling the room, driving you both to the highest point of ecstasy.

“Shit- feels so fucking good mama. I wanna fill you up.” Chris says, his fingertips digging into you as he squeezes your waist, feeling his release building.

You moan his name, your head falling to his shoulder, fingers knotting in his hair as you continue to bounce on him. “Cum inside me baby, please.” You whimper, and you feel his hips stutter, rhythm becoming sloppy as he starts to release into you. Your orgasm hits as well and he moans loudly as you feel his cum paint your walls, your legs shaking.

You stay there for a little, Chris holding you as you both catch your breath before climbing off him.

You check his bandage, making sure it’s still on good and then grab one of Chris’s shirts throwing it on while he puts a clean pair of boxers on.

The early morning light is now shining through the bedroom window, and you both kiss lazily, exhausted from the events of the night. He holds you close and you try not to think of what will happen next, focusing on the feeling of his hands in your hair, gently massaging your scalp, while he whispers “I love you.”

a/n: omgggg this was a crazy, long one but i really hope you guys enjoyed it!!!! im almost at 100 followers thank you guys so much. pls leave me more messages i wanna know your thoughts!!🩷

matt series next? 👀

taglist <3

@whicked-hazlatwhore

@tillies33ssss

@sturniolopepsi

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo oneshot #robbers

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sophsicle · 3 months

Text

the barbie movie is quickly becoming my enemy. it is a very good movie in terms of quality, talent, and entertainment. it's garbage in terms of like, political statements. WHICH IS FINE. it's a movie about a doll, it does not have to be good at making political statements. but people keep talking about it like it is. be so fr right now. it is an advertisement for a toy company that openly admits, within the movie itself, that it doesn't give a shit about women. ken becomes radicalized because Barbie isn't giving him enough attention, steals her home, robs her friends of free will and somehow barbie ends up apologizing 2 him?????? and promises that every night doesn't have 2 b girls night? likeeee im so sorry i don't understand the message there. and it isn't equality of the sexes before u start with that. Barbie doesn't enslave the kens. she just doesn't want to fuck them. equating the way the barbies treat the kens to the way the kens treat the barbies is insane. DO i think it feels a little fucking absurd that this award season the critics, or whomever the fuck decides these things, have chosen to give ken and all things ken related nominations and awards? yeah. it feels like an SNL skit. do i think barbie was robbed??? no. it's like. a fine movie. it's very entertaining. i don't think it inherently deserves awards for that. this fact is compounded by the women of colour who are being nominated in these categories and the tone deafness this then adds to this outrage. BASICALLY. any political stance grounded in the barbie movie whether it be conservative or liberal is so frustrating 2 me. and i need people 2 stop. pls.

#i just feel like i have been hearing discourse about this movie for months #and i need it to end #it is fun #very fun #nothing more #soph rambles

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sofs16 · 5 months

Text

perceval shark

charles! fake photographer x singer!reader

HEY! i know that may sound alarming as he is a fake but its quite silly… i think… im about to write it so enjoy <3

— just finished writing; not proofread at all

yn.yln

liked by charles_jpg, and 10,484,393 others

yn.yln hi friends! im currently looking for a photographer to join me on tour for the next month since my cousin (usual photographer) got injured and can’t travel:( send me a message or email in my bio and ill send more deets:) thanks a lot!!! 💌

view all 2,484,393 comments

ynsphoto will she acc reply to like millions of people tho 😭

⤷ yn.yln i really am trying but my instagram dms are glitching now 🫠 my team and i have replied to most of the emails tho:))

july 31, 2023

— mail app, you’ve got 16,483 inbox!

INBOX

From: Charles Perceval >

To: Yn Yln >

July 31, 2023 at 4:18

Hello, Yn!

If you are still in need of a photographer, I would love to help out!

Though I have no real experience aside from taking pictures of my friends, I have a large passion for music as you do.

I hope to hear from you:)

P.S Here is a link to some of my work. Have a good day:)

All the best,

Charles Perceval

NEW EMAIL

To: Charles Perceval >

From: Yn Yln >

Subject: reply asap pls :))

July 31, 2023 at 11:01

Hey, Charles!

I’ve really spent quite a while being mesmerized at your photos and I would loveeee if you could come with us on tour this month!!

The notice is quite short but the schedule would be August 4 to August 28 with us circling Europe. Let me know if there’s any issues and we could work around it:)

Hope to hear from you as well.

All the love,

Yn Yln 🤍

To: Yn Yln

From: Charles Perceval

July 31 at 16:22

Hello, Yn!

I am so glad! There may be a minor issue but could maybe we could talk about it on Instagram.

Would that be alright?:)

All the best,

Charles

Charles Perceval

charles_jpg • Instagram

12 Followers • 83 Posts

Following you since 2017

yn 💌

i must say, the 12 followers and private account is very sketchy, perceval 🤷🏻‍♀️

Charles Perceval

Hello Yn! Why are you judging me on my followers 😂

yn💌

NO IM NOT

im just saying i hope you dont rob me when we meet in real life 😔

Charles Perceval

Thank you for the trust in me. But I would not do that to you😁

yn 💌

sigh.. i guess it’s my fault if i end up dead in a ditch… ANYWAYS!

are you free to meet tomorrow 😁

Charles Perceval

Where exactly?

yn💌

Where are you now?

Charles Perceval

Spa

yn💌

you’re.. in a spa?

Charles Perceval

No! Spa, Belgium

yn💌

that one was NOT on me! But perfect the first stop there is actually Belgium! I can go there if it’s not a problem for you?

Charles Perceval

It is no problem for me:)

yn💌

Charles, don’t take this personally or rudely, but how old are you?

Charles Perceval

26 This October

yn💌

alright! just making sure youre not an old man😁

Charles Perceval

Aw, thank you.

yn💌

my manager will send more details, thanks charles and see you tomorrow:)

charles.jpg

Follow Requests

f1babes + 5,383,292 others

yn.yln has requested to follow you. 1m

confirm | delete

yn.yln

belgium

liked by charles_jpg, and 8,018,382 others

yn.yln i may look fine but i have been hiccuping for the last 2 hours i fret i am getting a six pack

view all 1,198,292 comments

ynsbabe i bet if u turned it to a sing, it’d be a bop

⤷ yn.yln too emotional to turn it into a song

august 2, 2023

yn.updated

liked by 2,483 others

yn.updated yn.yln just landed in Belgium where she will be performing for the first time this Friday!

view all 318 comments

liviesyn streets say she went to dinner with a guy 💔😭😭😭😭😭😭

⤷ ynsday chill. she can have guy friends

⤷ author not this one 😅

august 2, 2023

ynshit

liked by oliviarodrighoe, and 16 others

ynshit NOT WHAT I EXPECTED EMAILING THIS MAN.

view all 10 comments

oliviarodrighoe cant believ u didnt know charles leclerc THATS SO SO SUTPID IM LAUGJGING

⤷ ynshit HE SAID PERCEVAL DUMBASSSSS

⤷lauflaufey if he said leclerc would you have known anyway😭

⤷ ynshit 🙂

⤷ oliviarodrighoe how did you even find out

⤷ ynshit HE TOLD ME BCUZ HE’S LIKE A SHIT LIAR (thank you very much)

reneewrap did you hire him anyways

⤷ ynshit yes… MAN IS RICHER THAN ME THO

⤷ oliviarodrighoe HAHAHAHAHAHA

⤷ ynshit fuck you

⤷oliviarodrighoe or…

⤷ ynshit STOP

august 3, 2023

charles_jpg

yn.yln has requested to follow you. 4d

confirmed | decline

— instagram notification!

• yn.yln has followed charles_jpg and charles_leclerc!

charles.jpg

liked by yn, lando.jpg, and 7 others

charles.jpg Thank you, Lewis for the camera 😘

view all 10 comments

lewis.jpg Anytime mate! yn yes, thank you lewis hamilton

[liked by charles.jpg]

august 3, 2023

ynswife

liked by 10,483 others

ynswife what do you MEAN yn followed charles leclerc on his main AND jpg acc which NO ONE ELSE BUT THE GRID AND HIS FAMILY FOLLOWS. view all 3,485 comments

ynsferrari bro has been liking all of yns posts since 2015 with that acc 😭😭😭😭

august 3, 2023

yn.yln

tagged: charles_leclerc liked by charles_leclerc, and 14,393,292 others

yn.yln belgium 🤍 got a special guy with us too

view all 3,696,607 comments

charles_leclerc Sooo excited for this month! ⤷ yn.yln bring it on, perceval;)

maxverstappen1 🎉

taylorswift Gorgeous! ⤷ yn.yln i told u guys that song was abt me

august 3, 2023

charles_leclerc

tagged: yn.yln liked by yn.yln, and 2,293,596 others

charles_leclerc London 😎📷

view all 583,797 comments

yn.yln youre so talented, perceval:,) you make me like my smile

⤷charles_leclerc Haha thank you, ynn. You have an pretty smile to begin with! ⤷ lestappen1661 I can hear the church bells

charles1166 no because the way charles always captures her best moments like the happiness in the first slide and how she’s literally a star on the 2nd 😭

august 6, 2023

FERR4RI.YLN

liked by 3,282 others

FERR4RI.YLN “you make my like my smile” “you have a pretty smile to begin with” OH ITS OVER FOR US

view all 27 comments

ylnleclerc MOM AND DAD

august 6, 2023

yn.yln

tagged: charles_leclerc

liked by charles_leclerc, scuderiaferrari, and 7,383,494 others

yn.yln my turn to jpg 🤭

view all 3,585,922 comments

charles_leclerc Loving the first slide ❤️

⤷ yn.yln thanks!

oliviarodrgio ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🩹❣️❤️💗💟😘

⤷ yn.yln fuck off. f1rraris yn sitting with charles on the plane😭 his whipped smile😭 them eating together😭 the heart emoji😭

august 8, 2023

yn.updated

liked by 18,493 others

yn.updated yn sings unreleased song “slut” at monaco soundcheck today?!?! some lyrics :

• “got love struck, went straight to my head”

• “and if they call me a slut you know if might be worth it for once”

• “everyone wants him that was my crime”

• “i break down then he’s pulling me in. in a world of boys, he’s a gentleman”

view all 4,586 comments

chleclercs bye. august 10, 2023

yn.yln

liked by charles_leclerc, and 9,193,492 others

yn.yln monacoooo!!! thanks for being so kind to me and charles:,)

august 10, 2023

yn.yln

monaco

liked by charles_leclerc, and 11,737,292 others

yn.yln a day in shark lerklerk’s life

view all 4,697,922 comments

lewishamilton shark lerklerk

⤷ maxverstappen1 shark lerklerk

⤷ fernandoalo_oficial shark lerklerk

⤷ pierregasly shark lerklerk

⤷ landonorris shark lerklerk

charles_leclerc 🤦‍♂️

⤷ yn.yln💆🏼‍♀️

cru3lsumma entering gf yn time.

august 11, 2023

ynshit

liked by oliviarodrighoe, and 8 others

ynshit this isnt funny im ac down bad. ITS BEEN LIKE 10 DAYS

view all 6 comments

oliviarodrighoe MATCHMAKER ERA 🙋‍♀️

august 11, 2023

sharkie !!❤️

ynn💗

sharkie! wana dinner 2nite 🎉

sharkie !!❤️

Of course! Where should I pick you up? :)

ynn💗

my my what a gentleman

at the hotel we’re staying in🤷🏻‍♀️

sharkie !!❤️

see you:)

ynshit

liked by 11 others

ynshit HE LET ME EAT IN HIS CAR. …… 🙂

view all 32 comments

laufey oh she’s whipped! oliviarodrighoe LALALALALALAL HELLO?

august 11, 2023

charles_leclerc

liked by 7,282,595 others

view all 1,201,833 comments

charlec11 the random an posting no caption is so bf

yn.yln wait. why do i look snatched here.

⤷ charles_leclerc You most certainly are ;)

⤷ f1111zoom HOLD TH E PHONEZ

august 15, 2023

yn.yln

liked by charles_leclerc, and 15,393,393 others

yn.yln little ep out now:)

[ COMMENTS DISABLED ]

august 22, 2023

charles_leclerc

liked by 21,383,696 others

charles_leclerc Might as well be worth it for once❤️

view all 5,707,707 comments

yn.yln thanks for the last pic, love 🧘‍♀️

yn.yln STOPP IM GOING TO MISS YOU FOR TOUR

⤷ charles_leclerc you could always come to the pasdock😘

⤷ yn.yln WAGGING HERE I COME

august 25, 2023

#f1 imagines #formula 1 #charles leclerc #social media au #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc 16 #charles leclerc imagine

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yunacoeur · 1 year

Text

confessions

a/n: gunwook is p05 and war is over 🫶 also zb1 is a wack name and jay was robbed but anyway!! in order of rank but i might change it to order of age. send me requests if u want lol

content: zb1 x reader, tooth-rotting fluff, technically food is mentioned in yujin’s, literally that’s all this is so cute pls 🥹🫶

zhang hao

he confesses to you. it’s not some big dramatic moment, not the climax of the movie, but somewhere in your guys’ storyline, he says his ‘i love you’ means more than what you’d say to a friend. he tells you how fond he is of you and how he hopes to stay by your side forever.

“you know, i don’t think this is how friends are supposed to act. i think i might like you more than that.”

sung hanbin

he confesses to you. unlike hao’s, his is the big dramatic moment, the climax of the movie. it’s full of suspense and tension, he thinks you feel the same but he’s not really sure of anything these days and his stomach is doing cartwheels. he gives you this big, overdrawn speech about how perfect you are in his eyes and how happy it makes him to be in your life and how he would never take this opportunity for granted- and you use the then the only method you know to shut him up.

“stop playing dirty! that was unfair… okay fine! kiss me again!!”

seok matthew

you confess to him. he’s a love bug, but he’s shy. if you wrote him a hand-written letter confessing feelings for him or told him after getting him a small gift, he will never be able to get over you. he’ll keep that letter or whatever you give him forever. only then will he admit that he feels the same, and maybe leave a post-it note inside your phone case for you to find someday.

“it’s really true? you love me? me?! well.. i guess i have something to confess, too.”

ricky

he confesses to you, in all his shy cat glory. he tries to make this whole elaborate scene, filled with charm to completely blow you away, leave you starstruck. unfortunately, it doesn’t go how he plans, and he’s left to tell you, simply, that he has feelings for you. even in all his embarrassment at his plan not working, he’s the cutest when he’s bashful.

“ah, i.. i meant for that to happen… you know what, forget it- i have feelings for you. there, i said it.”

park gunwook

you confess to him. he wants to confess so badly but every time he tries he just freezes up! he just gets so flustered around you. if you catch him when he’s trying to, just being direct and honest about your feelings will help him to do the same. he’s easily flustered too, but given the opportunity, he will seize it. maybe not in a super ‘cool’ way, but hey, he’s charming at least.

“you like me too??… ah, i already gave myself away, didn’t i? yes, i have feelings for you too.”

kim taerae

you confess to him. he’s a romantic, and he can’t help but want to be romanced, so unfortunately that means you have to go first. the upside is he’ll look at you the whole time with those lovestruck eyes he gives everyone, but this time they’ll be real, have real passion and desire behind them, and you’ll notice. even if he never said a word, you’ll see all of taerae’s feelings plainly laid out on his face.

“you… you have feelings for me?? i- yes, i accept your confession! i want to be with you!”

kim gyuvin

he confesses to you. he’s a fun guy, probably wants to take you out on a date first and show himself off as ‘boyfriend material’ before he confesses to having feelings. he wasn’t even nervous until the last second before he confessed, and then once he did, all those feelings spilled out of his chest.

“i just really like you, okay! you’re so perfect to me and every moment i spend with you is amazing and i don’t ever wanna live without you!… was that too soon?”

kim jiwoong

he confesses to you. doesn’t make a big deal out of it, just tells you and gives you an out of you don’t feel the same. reassures you that nothing will change if you don’t feel the same. but, of course you do, and that silly little smile of his just lights up.

“i think i’m starting to develop feelings for you… let me know if you need time or don’t feel the same, but if you do, i wanna give us a try!”

han yujin

he confesses to you. something small and cute and stereotypical, like leaving a letter in your locker or giving you chocolates. he’ll get flustered and it’ll take him a couple tries, but he will tell you all the little things he loves about you. things you don’t even notice.

“so yeah… i know it’s sudden, but … i think i like you…”

#boys planet #zb1 #zerobaseone #zhang hao #sung hanbin #seok matthew #ricky #park gunwook #kim taerae #kim gyuvin #kim jiwoong #han yujin #boys planet headcanons #boys planet reactions #boys planet fics

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softspiderling · 2 months

Text

catch me or i go (houdini) | r.c.

summary: rafe witnesses a skilled burglar in the middle of the burglary. also, he can’t quiet seem to stop putting his foot in his mouth when it comes to you

pairing: rafe cameron x reader

word count: 6,6k words oops

warnings: mention of peterkin and what rafe did to her, cursing

author's note: i was listening to houdini by dua lipa and somehow got inspired to write this. also kind of lost myself in this fic bc i enjoyed writing it so much. pls leave a comment/like if you liked it and reblog to share. ily!!!

“Are you sure you want to sell it off? We can put it in storage for you.”

Rafe waved the guy off, pushing a fifty in his hand. “It’s fine, just sell it for me, I don’t want to see it again, it’s gaudy as fuck.”

The guy, Jacob or whatever, scratched his head, but seemed pleased enough with the tip that he got into the car with the rest of his team, the trucks pulling off the property.

“Fucking finally,” Rafe sighed, running his hands over his buzzed hair. The renovation of the house was his first step of distancing himself from Ward and he started by getting rid of the ridiculous furniture Rose had chosen. While Rafe knew that it was going to be a pain redecorating, he’d live in the comfort of his own space, instead of being reminded of his psychotic stepmother whenever he sat in the living room. Rafe was about to go back inside when he heard a loud crash coming from Mr. Jenkins’ property. He hesitated for a split second. Rafe never really liked Mr. Jenkins, he was a nosy motherfucker and always liked to call the sheriff’s department when the parties got a little louder than usual. But if that old fuck died right now only to be found like a few weeks later? That stench would probably sit in his nose for months. So might as well be proactive now.

Ducking between the bushes - he really needed to call the guy who trimmed their greens - Rafe jogged over to Mr. Jenkins’ property, slowing his pace when he reached the property line.

“Mr. Jenkins?” he called, trying to sneak a glance into the house, without being spotted at the same time. It’d just be his luck that Mr. Jenkins shot him in the face for evading his property.

Nothing.

Served him right for trying to do the right thing.

Rafe turned on his heel, ready to return home when he caught movement in the second story window: Someone was climbing out of the window.

Reacting quickly, Rafe ducked beneath the bushes, hiding as he watched a girl shut the window behind her, tiptoeing across the patio roof and then scaling down the gutter, all the while carrying a huge backpack. She must’ve robbed Mr. Jenkins’ house, based on her dark clothing and the red bandana covering half of her face.

Rafe’s curiosity was piqued, and he didn’t even hesitate to follow her as she snuck off the property through the yard. He kept in the shadows, not wanting to alert her to his presence as she kept a rather slow pace to keep the attention off of her. Rafe followed her a few blocks down the neighborhood, until she took a left turn into a small, dark alley, but he hid behind the corner of a house when she stopped, pulling the bandana off. Rafe stared at the side of her face, knowing he’d seen her somewhere before, but not quite remembering where from. The lighting was also not helping, as he barely could make out her features in the shadows, while she tugged a floral shirt out of the backpack, throwing it over her black top. After having fixed her outfit, she kept walking, and right as Rafe stepped out behind the house, his foot caught onto an empty glass bottle, making an unnecessary loud noise.

Rafe froze, noticing how her shoulders tensed, barely looking over her shoulder, before taking off in a sprint.

“Wait!” He called, probably the dumbest thing he could have said, running after her but even before rounding the second right corner, she disappeared.

“Fuck,” he muttered to himself, looking around, hoping to catch a glimpse of her, but nothing. One of his neighbors was outside tending to her flowers, giving him a weird look. Rafe only let out a polite chuckle, giving her a wave before he turned on his heel, making his way back home.

“How the fuck did she just disappear into thin air?” He muttered to himself. As he walked through his gate, he couldn’t help to peek over to Jenkins’ house if the old man was home already, but the house was still dark. Rafe tried to get back to work looking at new furniture, but his mind kept going back to the thief. As the sun started to set Rafe finally heard Jenkins’ Aston Martin pull into his drive way, and he figured it wouldn’t take long until the sheriff’s department showed up.

Minutes went by, then hours, and Rafe started to wonder if there was some other case Shoupe had to attend to, must be a real big case if he couldn’t even spare one deputy to check out Jenkins. Then again, Rafe would’ve had heard about it. Kildare wasn’t that big. It was already dark by the time the sheriff’s car pulled up on the street. Shortly after, the bell rang and as inconspicuously as possible, Rafe opened the door, feigning surprise.

“Shoupe. What brings you here at this hour?”

The sheriff only looked at Rafe unimpressed. He was pretty sure that Shoupe still resented him for the entire Peterkin thing, but innocent until proven guilty, right?

“Rafe… There was a break in at Mr. Jenkins’ house and I’m just here to ask if you saw anything suspicious,” Shoupe said, flipping open a small notepad.

Rafe rubbed his chin, sighing. “A break in huh? That sucks. I haven’t heard anything, though, sorry that I am of no help. What was stolen?”

“Jewelry that belonged to his late wife. The thief broke into the safe and completely emptied it. Took all the cash, too,” Shoupe said, scribbling something down on his notepad before looking at Rafe again.

“Bummer… I’ll let you know though, if I happen to remember something,” Rafe added.

Shoupe let out a grunt, stuffing his notepad away and turned to leave. Rafe stood in the doorway, hesitating, before calling out.

“Hey Shoupe.”

He turned around, raising a brow at Rafe.

“What took you guys so long?”

“What do you mean, son? We got here as soon as Mr. Jenkins called us.”

Huh.

“Really?” Rafe said, thinking. “Sorry, I just thought Mr. Jenkins has been home for a while now and you’re just now questioning me. Was wondering how fast you would get here if I had a problem.”

Shoupe eyed him suspiciously. “Mr. Jenkins didn’t notice the break in until an hour ago, his security system was active when he got home, so he had no reason to suspect anything…. You sure you didn’t see anything?”

“Positive,” Rafe insisted. “Have a good night, Shoupe.”

The sheriff stood on the porch for another second before he left with a small headshake, leaving Rafe with his thoughts as he shut the door. The thief must have been a pro. Bypassing the security system and taking just enough to delay the sheriff’s department from investigating? That wasn’t an easy feat. To say that Rafe was intrigued was an understatement. The way she moved with such stealth and precision proved how she knew her way around sneaking in and out. There was no way this was her first hit. He wondered what motivated her to rob the house, if she was just a plain poor Pogue, or a Kook, doing it for the thrill of it.

Rafe had to find out more about the thief. Even two drinks in, he still had to think about her. And when he set his mind on something - or someone - there was no getting past it. He knew it was going to haunt him until he figured it out. Figure her out. Problem was, how the fuck would he? Right, Kildare wasn’t that big, but it wasn’t like he could just waltz around looking for her either. And chances are she was just some tourist, looking for some fun. Before he could start forming a plan to find out who she wa, his phone buzzed, distracting him.

Top: scarlet’s throwing a party tonite. u in?

Rafe thumbed at his screen, having half a mind to decline the invitation, but when he looked up, taking in the empty room, he almost got depressed. Why was he sitting on the fucking floor, thinking about some random girl he was probably never going to see again? Downing the last of his drink, he texted Top that he’d see him at Scarlet’s.

By the time Rafe arrived, the party was already in full swing. Weaving through the crowd, he greeted the familiar faces, gravitating towards the living room where he knew Scarlet’s father kept the expensive stuff.

“Hey Rafe!”

Lifting his head, he saw Topper on the couch with some girl, waving him over. Rafe took his time walking over, because what was he, a dog?

“’sup Top,” he greeted his friend with a light slap to the shoulder. “Give me your drink.”

“Alright, damn bro,” Topper said, handing Rafe his drink, before gesturing over to you, introducing you to him. Rafe gave you a nod as you smiled shyly at him, not bothering to exchange pleasantries. The last thing he needed right now was you simpering over him, no matter how pretty you were.

“Right, so where were we…” Topper said, apparently picking up the previous conversation you were having before Rafe joined them. “Are you leaving for university anytime soon?”

“Uh… No. I could go, but I don’t want to leave my mom all by herself, you know,” you answered, tucking your hair behind your ear. You looked like you’d rather be anywhere else but at this party. Rafe gave you a quick once over as he sipped on Topper’s drink. You were pretty, he figured. Maybe a bit mousy for his taste, with the shirt under your dress and a denim jacket on top? Other girls your age would have worn only the dress and maybe even cut a slit in it, just for the sake of it. Rafe’s brows furrowed as he looked at you more closely, pausing.

“… I know you?”

Topper gave him a very unsubtle look as he chuckled awkwardly, trying to play his friend’s rudeness off, while you just sat there, your back ramrod straight, smiling at him bashfully.

“She used to go to school with us? Then uh… Transferred during her senior year.”

Squinting his eyes at you, Rafe tried to think back to his school years, before realizing.

“Right, your dad embezzled like millions of dollars from his company right?”

Topper cleared his throat, looking up at the ceiling and you only smiled tightly at Rafe, the corners of your mouth not quite reaching your eyes.

“Um.. I think I’ll grab a drink, Topper,” you said, excusing yourself, quickly disappearing between the people. Topper waited until you disappeared to elbow Rafe into the side, who only smirked into his drink.

“What’s her deal?”

“Are you joking?” Topper asked with a sigh, pinching his nose. “You can’t just say shit like that man, it’s obvious she’s embarrassed. Why would you bring up her father?”

“Get off your high horse, it’s not like I embezzled a bunch of money,” Rafe huffed, shoving Topper off of him with an eyeroll. He knew that Topper was frustrated with him, but honestly, why would he care if he hurt your feelings. Topper inhaled deeply and Rafe just knew that an lecture was incoming.

“She’s a good kid. Lives just on the outskirts of the Cut now with her mom. I guess they can still afford to live on Figure 8, but her and her mother are too embarrassed to come back after all of their money was seized and her father got locked up in jail. Which is probably why we never see her around. Now, we’re definitely going to see her less because you’re such a dick.”

Rafe was only half-listening to Topper, processing what he had just been told, the gears in his head turning.

“Wait, what?” he asked, sitting up straight and looked at Topper, finally taking the conversation seriously. “How would they still be able to afford living on Figure 8 when all of their assets were seized?”

Topper shrugged his shoulders. “How the hell should I know? I’m just telling you what she told me.” He glanced to the back and paused, before looking back to Rafe. “She’s coming back. Just… Think before you speak.”

If this was any situation, Rafe would’ve probably bit Topper’s head off for being told what to do, but for once, Rafe decided to lean back and listen. A short while later, you slipped past a kissing couple, joining them on the couch, holding onto a red solo cup with both hands.

“What kind of toxic waste did Scarlet mix you?” Rafe asked as some sort of peace offering.

“Oh this?” you lifted your cup, laughing awkwardly. “It’s juice. Don’t really like alcohol.”

Rafe almost choked on his whiskey, and he let out a cough, trying to hide his surprise while Topper only leaned his head back with an exasperated look on his face, you only stared at him with an open mouth.

“Sorry, went down the wrong pipe.”

After that, Rafe didn’t ask you that much, letting Topper lead the conversation and instead just soaking up information about you. In the brief interaction he had with you, Rafe somehow got the feeling that you didn’t like him that much. He didn’t even know why.

Okay, he knew why. But honestly, he was just asking what everyone would ask, right?

When Rafe got home from Scarlet’s, he didn’t know that much more from you. After he really started paying attention to you, he realized that you never really divulged that much information about yourself, despite answering all of the questions. You were much smarter than Rafe had previously assumed. He wondered how many people you had fooled. But all of this was still a theory, and he had to put that to a test.

The next day, Rafe spent his morning asking the neighborhood about your family, disguising it as friendly neighborhood chatter and it was really far too easy. If there was one thing one needed to know about the people living on Figure 8 is, that they loved to yap.

“- just dreadful. That poor girl. Her mother took her out of the academy in her senior year and now they live next to Franklin Stewart on the other side of the island…” Susannah shook her head as she feigned distress, but Rafe didn’t believe an ounce of the compassion she was showing. She used to be best tea buddies with Rose, that really said it all.

“Oh man… I really hope her family is doing alright,” Rafe said stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Anyways… Thanks for the chat, Mrs. Cooper. I’ve kept you long enough.”

She only waved him off with an obnoxious laugh, “Please, don’t you worry about it. Give Rose my best wishes, okay?”

Rafe gave her a smile, which immediately dropped as soon as he turned to leave. “What a bitch,” he muttered under his breath, walking back to his house. At least it paid off having to talk to Susannah, since he now knew where you lived. He didn’t ponder over it long before he got on his bike, riding over to the Cut. As the mansions and well groomed front yards slowly turned smaller, one might say modest, he couldn’t imagine downgrading from Figure 8 to the cut. Though, now that he thought about it, he figured his family was pretty close from having to give up their life on the north side of the island. Rafe let his bike roll to a stop when he reached Franking Stewart’s house, laying his eyes on the only neighboring house.

It was pretty okay for a house on the Cut. Still on the cut, though.

He took off his helmet, placing it on his bike and getting off, walking in front of his house, contemplating his next move, when the door suddenly opened and a person exited. For a split second, he thought it was you, but upon closer inspection, he realized that it was your mother. She tugged a sun hat on, before pausing when she saw Rafe on the street.

“Can I help you?”

Rafe rubbed the back of his neck.

“Uh, sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you… I’m Rafe, a friend of your daughters…” He said, approaching the house to avoid yelling all over the street.

Your mother beamed at him. “Really? I barely get to meet any of my daughter’s friends. She’s not home right now, but would you like to come in for a glass of lemonade?”

Rafe hesitated. On the one hand, it would be a perfect opportunity to find out more about your situation, and if you really were the thief like he suspected. On the other hand, if you happened to come home while he was still there, you’d immediately know that there was something going on. Then again, high risk, high reward?

“Sure, I’d love to.”

Rafe followed your mother into your quaint home, and while your mother was blabbering away, he took the time looking around the kitchen.

“- she’s a good girl, bless her. A bit too serious, though. I always try to encourage her to live a little, you know?” your mother handed Rafe a glass of ice cold lemonade, which he gladly accepted. He was a sucker for a good old homemade lemonade.

“She is a bit shy,” Rafe agreed with your mother, only making her laugh.

“And very headstrong. Which is why it’s so hard for me to get her to change her mind on anything. I’m just so upset that she took the whole thing with her father so hard… The burden of that really shouldn’t fall on her shoulders. Ever since we moved out here, she got more withdrawn, angry. I know she’s still upset, but I really feel like she’d be happier if she got out of her shell again.”

Hm. Maybe you were stealing to help your mother pay the bills, help your family stay afloat.

“Yeah, I’d know a thing or two about that.”

Your mother laid her eyes on Rafe, smiling sadly.

“I was very sad to hear about your father’s passing. I didn’t know him very well, but I’m sure he was a good man.”

Rafe almost scoffed, because only if she knew, but the noise died in his throat when your mother gave him a shoulder squeeze, rubbing his back.

“I hope you’re alright, honey. It’s hard to lose a parent at such a young age.”

His hand tightened around his lemonade glass, the coldness somewhat settling him down. He hasn’t felt the touch of a caring parent for a long time. “Thank you,” he pressed out, giving your mother a stiff smile. “Um… I should go. Don’t want to cause any more of an inconvenience,” he said, standing up.

“Oh please, don’t worry about it, I always love to meet my daughter’s friends.”

Your mother led him out of the house, and when Rafe passed the staircase that lead upstairs, his eyes caught a very familiar floral shirt tossed carelessly on the bottom of the stairs. Your mother followed his eyesight, palming her forehead, embarrassed.

“Oh god, please forgive the mess. I always try to tell her to keep her things in order,” she quickly said, picking up the shirt and hanging it over her arm. Rafe however only waved her off, giving her a charming smile.

“Don’t worry about it, it’s just a shirt.”

After bidding good bye to your mother, Rafe drove to the nearest beach, shutting his bike off to take moment to process. The shirt confirmed his suspicion, you were the thief he saw breaking into Jenkins’ house. He still didn’t know what your motives for stealing were. It was clear to him that your mother was very open about what your father had done, and you still seemed to be doing fairly well, all things considered. Where you paying the bills with the shit you stole from other people’s houses? Rafe stared at to sea for a second, before he got an idea, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

rafe: anything going down tonight?

top: uh

top: i think there’s a party at the boneyard.

top: pogue party, tho

rafe: thats fine.

rafe: you think you can get your friend to come?

top: … why? so you can embarrass her some more?

rafe: just want a second chance, maybe apologize

top: i’ll see what i can do. no promises, tho

“So, why did you really want her to come?”

Rafe was aware that Topper didn’t even have to say your name for him to realize who he was talking about. Rafe took a sip from his drink, wincing a bit. While he did say that he didn’t care about the fact this was a pogue party, they did always buy the cheapest shit. He could feel Topper’s gaze on him, scrutinizing and a little suspicious.

“I didn’t really make a good first impression. Just thought it’d be nice to make amends,” he finally said, his eyes set on the crowd around the bonfire, studiously not looking at his friend.

“Amends, huh?” Topper replied, sounding not at all convinced. “You’ve never been the type to care about stuff like that, Rafe.”

Rafe shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “People change, Top.”

“Or they have ulterior motives,” Topper shot back almost immediately, and Rafe couldn’t help but grin at the accusation.

He finally looked up to meet Topper’s gaze, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “Can’t a guy try to be better without being accused of having a hidden agenda?”

Topper held his gaze for a moment longer before breaking into a grin himself, shaking his head in disbelief. "Just...don't mess with her, okay? She's been through enough."

Rafe raised his hands in surrender, his grin still in place. "Promise, Top. No messing around."

He did intend to make amends, but not for the reasons Topper thought. There were still so many questions Rafe needed answers to, and he was willing to play nice to get to them.

Topper only rolled his eyes at him, looking to the side for a bit. “Head’s up,” he muttered, before straightening his back, greeting you when you joined them.

“Hey guys,” you said, waving at them sheepishly.

Topper gave you a brief hug. “Hey, I was hoping you could make it. You remember, Rafe, right?”

“Yeah of course,” you replied, your voice light, but Rafe couldn’t help but think that your gaze somewhat hardened when you laid your eyes on him. He hoped that he was still able to salvage the relationship.

“Hey. Nice to see you again,” Rafe told you, giving you a charming grin. “You got anything to drink yet?” He looked pointedly at Topper, who stared back at him, his expression unmoving. Rafe inclined his head, raising his brow and Topper bit back a sigh, standing up.

“Let me get you something to drink. No alcohol, right?”

“Uh no, you don’t have to,” you insisted. “I’m not really thirsty anyways.”

Topper waved her off, lifting his own cup. “It’s fine. I need a refill anyway.” With that, Topper turned to leave, leaving you with Rafe.

“I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable the other night,” Rafe started and you looked at him in surprise, your eyes widened. “I might have been a bit insensitive, maybe a bit too forward. I’m really sorry.”

It felt like swallowing gravel, the over the top apology, but he hoped that it came across as sincere.

You let out a breath, your forehead pinched, like you were holding something back. He saw a flicker of something in your eyes, and he realized you didn’t buy a single thing he just said.

“It’s fine,” you then said, smiling at him and Rafe raised an eyebrow, seeing past your facade, though he had to admit that you were a good actor. If he couldn’t get close to you by being nice, it seemed like he had to resort to his back up plan

“We good, then?” he said, offering you his hand, which you shook, after hesitating for a brief second.

“Sure.”

You leaned back against the boulder Rafe was sitting on, and an uncomfortable silence settled over the two of you. Rafe considered throwing himself into the black water, when you finally spoke up.

“My mom told me you came by this morning.”

“Yeah, I was in the neighborhood and your mother saw me outside your house,” Rafe explained, glancing over at you. “Hope you didn’t mind that I called myself a friend.”

“It’s okay..” You trailed off, like you were about to add something else, but hesitating. Usually, he’d be fed up with people not speaking when they want to, but he was intrigued and figured he’d give you the time you needed to spit it out.

“What did you and my mom talk about?” you asked lightly, but Rafe knew how loaded the question actually was. He waited for a beat, sipping on his drink before he answered, enjoying playing with you.

“Not much, really. Just said how happy she was to meet one of your friends… She’s really nice,” he added and you gave him a wry smile.

“Thanks.”

Rafe paused for a beat.

“You guys are doing okay, right? Financially, I mean?”

You narrowed your eyes at him and he was praying to god he was pressing the right buttons.

“Yes. Why?”

“Was just wondering,” Rafe answered nonchalantly, shrugging with his shoulders. “I remember when Ward’s company hit a rough patch and we almost lost our house. But now, we’re better than I ever, and really appreciate my home and everything in it. I can’t even imagine how it feels like to lose everything just like that.”

He turned to look at you, catching how you were clenching your jaw and like the perfect friend he was, Topper returned with two cups in his hand.

“Hey, so they didn’t have juice, but I go-”

“I’m so sorry, Topper,” you said, interrupting him with a small smile. “I have to go. I forgot that I promised my mom I would help her with something early in the morning. But I really appreciate you inviting me out.”

“I- What?” Topper asked, confused but you only gave him a quick wave, almost ignoring Rafe entirely, before you left. Rafe would almost feel bad for pushing you, if he didn’t exactly know where you were going. Topper on the other hand, turned to his friend, glaring at him.

“Bro, what the fuck?”

Rafe drank the last of his drink, clapping Topper on the shoulder.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll explain soon. I gotta go, text you later, okay?”

He didn’t wait for a reply, tossing his empty cup into a trash bag and walking up the dune to get to his bike. Rafe took the straight way home, but decided to turn the engine off a few blocks before he got home, walking the rest of the way. The estate stood in darkness, not a single sound coming from it as he approached it, deciding to heave himself inside through a window, before deciding to wait.

It didn’t take long until he heard tinkering on the backdoor from the kitchen, then the unmistakable sound of the door clicking open. The door shut almost silently, and then quiet steps echoed over the marble floor. The moonlight shone through the window and that was the only reason Rafe saw you when you walked through the arched doorway of the living room. You froze mid step as you took in the complete lack of- well, anything.

When Rafe turned on the light, you barely reacted.

“How long have you known?” you asked with a sigh, pulling down the bandana, uncovering your face.

“Not long,” Rafe answered, as he leaned in the door way, his arms crossed. “You’re good at what you do, I’ll give you that. I was just paying attention.”

A range of emotions played on your feature - surprise, irritation, realization and then resignation.

“You saw me while I was in Mr. Jenkins’ house, didn’t you? You’re the one who was following me.”

Rafe merely raised an eyebrow and you groaned, pinching your nose.

“And you saw the shirt at my house. Damn it.”

Rafe smirked at your reaction. “So. Why are you doing this?”

Your eyes met his and Rafe actually saw a spark of defiance in them and for the first time, he actually believed you weren’t putting up an act. This was the real you.

“What’s it to you? It’s not like you’re planning on turning me in. Shoupe hates you more than he could ever hate me.”

“Well,” Rafe started, pushing off the door frame and walking over to you, “Let’s just say I’m curious. Clearly you’re a pro, but the question why is really bothering me. You need to pay the bills? Are you doing this for money?”

“What?” You asked, exasperated. “No, I told you, we’re doing fine financially.”

“Yeah ‘cause you’re such an honest person to come by.”

You gave him a look and only scoffed, turning on your heel to leave, but Rafe was quick to grab you by the wrist, holding you back.

“Don’t fucking touch me.”

“Fine,” Rafe snapped, releasing your wrist, his eyes burning into yours. “But you’re not just getting off this easily. You tried to fucking rob me, you at least owe me an explanation.”

“I wasn’t going actually fucking rob you!” You bit at him, glaring at him with a challenging look in your eyes. Then, you sighed and ran a hand through your hair, a weary expression taking over your face. “Okay! Okay. You want an explanation? Fine.”

Rafe was taken aback by your sudden cooperation, but he wasn’t going to let his surprise show. Instead, he raised an eyebrow at you, waiting for you to continue.

“I’m not doing this for money,” you started, your gaze fixed on a point somewhere over Rafe’s shoulder. “I’m doing this because… Because it’s the only way I can get back at the people who ruined my family.

You finally looked at him, your eyes hard. "The people we used to call friends, the people who claimed to care about us, they were the first ones to turn their backs on us when my father was arrested. They didn't waste a second before they started spreading rumors, tarnishing our family name even further."

Rafe was silent for a moment, processing your words. "So you're... what? Stealing from them as some sort of revenge?"

You shrugged, looking away.

“What about the stolen items? If you’re just keeping them, you’re not really that different from your father, are you?”

“What did you just say to me?”

Your nostrils flared and you glared at him, your eyes burning. Interesting. You stole from people who spread gossip about your family, but at the same time, you resented your father, and his actions, Rafe assumed.

“I sell that shit. I’m not getting caught with stolen items,” you then explained, rolling your eyes at him. “And then I give the money away.”

“Hold up, what?” Rafe paused you, frowning. “What you mean you’re “giving the money away”?”

“I don’t have time to tutor you in English.”

“Shit, you really were putting up a shy girl act, weren’t you?” Rafe huffed in disbelief, shaking his head. You rolled your eyes at him and he was speechless for a moment, not having expected your motive. Personally, he would never steal money just to give it away. Why go through all that trouble to gain nothing from it? He had to begrudge you though, you really had a pair of balls on you.

“I’m giving it to people who need it, people who live on the cut,” you elaborated with a sigh.

“You’re actually insane,” Rafe pointed out. He then froze, thinking. “So what were you planning on doing with the stuff you stole from me?”

“I don’t know,” you said with a shrug. “You were pissing me off and I just wanted to see how far I could get.”

Rafe rubbed his jaw, at loss for words. “You really are something, you know that?”

Your lips twitched in a small smile. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Figured you would.”

Rafe glanced over at you, taking in your figure, clad in dark clothes, red bandana still in hand. “So what now?”

You seemed to wonder the same, your gaze falling to the floor. “I don’t know,” you admitted. “I never thought I’d get caught, let alone by someone like you.”

Rafe tried to not get offended by that.

“Maybe I should get out of the game while I still can get away unscathed.”

“Sounds like a smart idea,” he said and you looked at him, biting your lip.

“Guess that’s my cue to leave, huh?”

Shrugging with his shoulders, Rafe made no move to stop you and nodded slowly, playing with the bandana in your hand.

“Cool… This was great,” you said, walking backwards. “Let’s not do it again.”

Rafe snorted and you turned around to leave, not before pausing, looking back at him.

“You’re not as bad as I thought you were, Rafe.”

With a grin, you disappeared into the hallway, no doubt leaving just the way you entered the house, leaving Rafe in the empty living room. That was the last time he saw you for a long time. Topper bombed him with questions, wanting to know what happened, but Rafe waved him off, not wanting to spill secrets that weren’t his to tell, but assured him that the two of your resolved your problems. For a while, Rafe though that you had gone against your words and just kept robbing people, but he hadn’t heard any chatter about any unsolved cases. For a while, Rafe thought that you had moved to the main land, but he happened to bump into your mother on a random afternoon, where she promptly thanked him for being such a good influence on you - which left him really bewildered. Because him? A good influence? He really didn’t want to know what that even meant.

When three months passed without a single sight of you, Rafe started to believe that you were avoiding him. Sure, you lived on the other side of the island, but again; Kildare wasn’t that big. He was bound to see you around at least once a month. Rafe wasn’t even exactly sure why it bothered him so much that he hadn’t seen you. Like, okay, he was curious about your story and the motives behind your burglaries at first, but he figured it all out, right? Rafe shouldn’t be wanting to see you anymore. Maybe he should ask Topper about you. But then again, the last time he did, it ended with you walking off.

“What, run out of girls to torment?”

Rafe lifted his head, surprised to see you grinning at him. He blurted out your name in shock like an idiot. He was so deep in thoughts, he hadn’t even notice you approaching him as he was sitting outside on the patio at Kelce’s party.

“What are you doing here?”

“It’s a party, what does one do at a party?” you answered, plopping down on the couch next to him, throwing your legs in his lap like you’ve done it 100 times before. You looked different, too, your outfit wildly contrasting to the nice girl from next door outfit you were wearing at Scarlet’s party. Rafe tried to hide his perplexity by plucking the cup out of your hand, taking a big swig, expecting juice or maybe a coke and nearly choked when he realized it was vodka cran (more vodka than cran).

“The hell?” Rafe coughed, giving you a side eye. “I thought you didn’t drink alcohol?”

“Whatever made you think that?”

You reclaimed your cup, drinking from it like it was water, giving him a coy smile. Rafe ducked his head, smirking. So this is what your mother meant by good influence? You seemed less angry, more comfortable in your skin, like you had unburdened yourself from protecting your family’s reputation.

“Well, you definitely should get your liver checked out if you’re making this a regular occurrence.”

“Yeah, pot, kettle,” you shot back, holding your cup out of his reach when he lunged for it again. If Topper happened to walk out to the patio to see Rafe and you bickering again, he didn’t mention it.

And just like that, you fit yourself into his life like you had always been part of it.

There was rarely a morning when you weren’t in the kitchen when Rafe came downstairs in the morning, never questioning how you got in, building stacks and stacks of pancakes with ingredients from his pantry. You even helped him pick out the new furniture for the house, as the rooms of the Cameron estate slowly filled with interior.

The biggest work in progress was the living room, and Rafe scrolled on his laptop looking for a couch that was big enough and fit in with the rest of the decor of the house. You were sitting on the outdoor sofa next to him, your legs thrown over the arm rest like a damn pogue.

“What about this?” Rafe said, flipping his laptop around to show you the white couch with gold lining. It looked classy and he thought it fit right in with the new wall colors.

You glanced at it, shrugging, before doing a double take, frowning.

“That’s tacky as hell.”

“You know, I think I liked you better when you were acting like you were shy,” Rafe sniffed with a dirty look in your direction, keeping on scrolling. You only snickered, picking up another piece of pineapple on the fork, eating it.

“I don’t think you do.”

Rafe ignored you, frowning at his computer screen as he continued his search. It was harder than expected, and at this point he wondered if it would be easier to hire an interior designer.

“Hey Rafe.”

“What?”

Rafe kept his eyes on the screen, not moving an inch, when you suddenly leaned over, leaning your hands on his thighs and pressing your lips against his in a soft, but very decisive kiss. He let out a soft grunt, not having expected the kiss, before he kissed you back, momentarily forgetting his search for furniture. You licked into his mouth briefly, before pulling away, grinning at him as he furrowed his brows at you.

“Still like me better shy?”

author's note: did you like it?🥹

#rafe x reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #rafe #rafe x you #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fic #outer banks #obx #drew starkey

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fieldofdaisiies · 1 year

Text

Azriel x Reader | The Secrets We Hide

type: angst warning(s): this is a heavy topic, please don’t read if you don’t feel comfortable, talk of child loss, potential second child loss, blood; also for personal reasons this is a topic that matters to me a lot, writing it down was hard but this is also why it is very honest and emotional, so pls be kind with feedback word count: 3.1k words request: i had an idea for an azriel angst. one where the reader gets pregnant but doesn’t tell him, so he only finds out later on? but i feel like the reader had valid reasons as well shdjks@moonlightazriel thank you once again for helping me find a name.

A tear slides down your cheek, tasting salty in your mouth. You meet your empty gaze in the mirror, dead, dull eyes staring back at you. The skin around them, red, puffy, swollen. Your throat feels dry, burning with a scream that moments later silently slips through your dry lips. You feel so empty, so worn out, so robbed of life.

Your hands tremble when you lift them, the blood on them looked smudged through your teary vision.

A ragged sob rips itself free, the thick red liquid such a stark contrast to your white bathroom.

“Please, Y/N. Please open the door.” Azriel’s voice is so soft yet stern, his knocking loud but gentle.

Air wheezes in and out of you lungs when you try to calm yourself down. It does not work. Your heart beats in your throat, your lower belly aching so terribly bad, it makes you grind your teeth.

“Y/N!” Azriel’s voice now louder, he pounds against the door. When he casts his glance down to the floor, he can see small droplets of deep red blood. His heart started racing, cold sweat breaking out on the back of his neck, on his back, his palms clammy.

“Open!” he pushes again, pounding harshly, loudly, agony and dread colliding inside of him. Horror takes root in his chest when fear and panic seep into every fiber of his body. “Y/N,” Azriel pants, leaning his forehead against the door. “Please, let me in. I just need to see if you are—“ The door slowly opens, making him tumble slightly, but he catches himself, catches you. The shadowsinger wraps his arms around your trembling figure, your body so cold, so fragile in his hands.

Azriel pulls you to his chest, your shoulders shaking, soft sobs leaving your mouth, your chest heaving against his. He is careful to not put any pressure on your front, only embracing you softly while curling his arms around you. The shadowsinger kisses the top of your head, one hand brushing through your damp strands of hair. They are damp with sweat. That sort of liquid that builds up on your skin when you are in a state of panic and horror.

“I am so sorry,” you whisper against his chest, voice raspy, breaking at the last syllable. Your body trembles in Azriel arms when a shudder courses through you before let yourself fall against his chest. A sharp pain pierces your lower belly, like a bolt of burning fire, and you release a dreadful scream, pulling backwards.

Your breathing once again quickens when you glance downwards, to the little bump, barely noticeable, and your blood streaked nightgown, the thick red liquid running down your thighs.

Azriel grabs your upper arms, shock having widened his eyes. They pierce into yours, but you cannot hold his gaze. Tears build up in your own, toppling over the edges, running down your cheeks where the previous tears have just dried. Your eyes burn, your lips are dry, your nose feeling clogged. Just like your throat where another loud sob rips itself free.

“Don’t apologise,” Azriel whispers, although his heart shatters into a million of pieces. “Madja is on her way. Everything will be,“ —Azriel swallows thickly, his own throat burning, lashes dampening— “you will see, it will all be fine.” He doesn’t know that. And that uncertainty and horror filling every fiber of his body is worse than anything he has ever felt before.

You are carrying his child, god forbid—were carrying his child— and he has only found out about that minutes ago. All emotions of shock about, this sudden knowledge, have vanished, being erased by the feeling of utter and pure pain about what has happened to you just a moment after you have jerked up from bed, screaming from the bottom of your lungs and putting the cards on the table. Azriel has been shocked first but then everything has become a blur, you getting up, you falling, and suddenly there was blood. So much blood and is has been everywhere, is still everywhere.

Your bedsheets are still stained a deep red when Azriel guides you to the bedroom, holding you tightly by your arms, weak steps carrying you over to the bed. He doesn’t want to pick you up, although it would make it easier for you. But he does not know if it would hurt you even more and so he rather supports you like this, helping you climb on the bed on his side, so you wouldn't lie in your blood. Azriel kisses your brow when he pulls the sheets over your lower half.

He does not care about the blood getting everywhere, he just wants Madja to come and her to take care of you. He wants you to be fine. He does not want to see you hurt, in pain, crying.

You wince when icy hot pain fills your abdomen, your fingers curling towards your palms. “Sshh,” Azriel whispers, his hand brushing up your cold arm, over your shoulder until he places it on your neck and leans in.

Azriel’s brows are on yours, his warm breath caressing your skin, his scent and his presence the only thing that calm you at least a little bit.

Pain splits your heart open, cracking it in half, but you try to hard to focus on your mate, on him being here with you and how he holds you. Sweat has dried on the back of your neck, feeling clammy. So do they insides of your thighs and when you think about it you can already feel the burn in your throat again. A sob leaves you, scratching over the insides of your throat like sandpaper. You cry out, tears, although you have thought there were none left, building up in your eyes, rolling down your cheeks. Your hand curls around Azriel’s wrist, the other holding the bedsheet when you weep.

“Please, calm down. Madja will soon be here,” Azriel says, panic and sadness filling his tone even though he tries so hard to be strong. To be strong for you. For the two of you. You are what matters most to him, his number one priority, and seeing you in so much pain is the worst sort of torture he could have ever witness. A small part of himself believes that he might deserve this for all the bad things he has done, but you…you don’t deserve this. Any of this. You are good and kind and warm and something like this happening to you…how could someone do such a thing?

The shadowsinger curses the Mother and the Cauldron but the thought of mother rips his heart into shreds, leaving open a wound which your loud sob rubs salt into.

And then thoughts bubble up, getting so loud, so unbearable. Only if he had known. Why did you not tell him? Maybe he would have noticed that something was off and could have acted earlier. He has this selfish thought that he hates himself for, but if he had known he would have had time to be happy about becoming a father. It is selfish but it hurts so much, that he wasn't allowed this happiness, after everything that has happened before.

So before he can stop himself, a tear from him falling onto your skin, he says, “Why?”

Azriel swallows around the lump in his throat, his eyes burning, so he clamps them shut while your own open.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

A breathy weep parts your lips and you give your head a little shake. Regret and sorrow and also hate towards yourself fill every fiber of your body, making icy fire blaze through your veins.

“I couldn’t tell you. I wanted to wait until it was safe that we would not lose another one. I did not want to—”

“Y/N,” Azriel says softly and brushes his hand over your head.

“I did not want to hurt you again. I did not want you to have hopes again and I ruin it. That I ruin it again.”

“Y/N, you are my priority. And yes, I wanted to be a father, but you come first always. You ruined nothing. This wasn’t your fault,” Azriel says and wipes his thumb over your cheek, the skin under your eyes swollen and red, so are your eye lids.

You meet his gaze through a blurry vision, your lip quavering and finding yourself unable to answer. Because you blame this on yourself. Your belly, your female belly, cannot carry a child.

You are a woman who cannot carry a child and this hurts. You can never make Azriel a father, you can never see his happiness about being a father. First you haven’t been able to conceive for three centuries, you have nearly given up until one day the news came: you were pregnant. Both Azriel and you were euphoric and anticipated the birth of your child until the fatal day where your life and happiness and anticipation were crushed like a beetle you step on. You haven’t tried for a child for a long time after that. Until you started trying again.

And now…now this was all again for nothing?

Your whole body shakes when you draw in a deep breath. You feel like such a failure. The one thing you have wanted so much, to become a mother, it is all taken away from you again? How do you deserve this? How does Azriel?

You feel his lips on your forehead, his thumb brushing over your skin, soothing and slow.

“I want you to be safe and happy. This is what matters. And if we can’t have children we—“ “Don’t say that!” you say loudly, panic ringing in your voice. You tilt your head back slightly, needing some distance between you and him, between you and what he has just said. What he has suggested. That you aren’t able to carry children.

“I am sorry. I didn't mean to say that.” The shadowsinger leans over you, kissing your forehead, his fingers intertwining with yours.

“But you did,” you bubble and bring your other hand up to wipe over your nose. He has said the one thing that has always been locked away behind iron gates in your brain. This one possible knowledge that you might not be able to carry children. That your body isn’t able to do.

And now that he has spoken them out loud, they hollow through the room, through your mind, stretching out and nearly suffocate you. You suck in sharp breaths of air, chest heaving rapidly when awareness downs on you what he has suggested. Azriel has given up. He has given up his hope. He thinks you aren't able to carry out a child, you have failed him. You cannot be a mother but he…he can be a father. With someone else. You would allow him that. You know he wants to be father more than anything else you would allow him—

You barely feel the hands on your chest, on your cleavage, holding you down. Azriel’s voice seems so far away over the blood rushing in your ears, the rising panic inside of you.

Only when his face is mere inches from yours, you can leave your thoughts and focus back on your mate.

“Please, calm down. I didn’t mean to say it like this. I mean that I will love you no matter what. Please, my love, please calm down. I—“ A knock sounds from the door and when Azriel gets up everything comes crashing in on you. You scream, thrash your hands against the mattress, crying and sobbing loudly.

Madja, let in by Azriel, rushes into the bedroom and before doing anything medical related, cradles your face inn her hands and forces you to look at her. “Look at me, Y/N. Look at me. I am here, we are going to fix this.” This is truly the worst kind of torture for Azriel. He slumps against the wall, shoulders hunched, crying, air wheezing in and out of his own lungs. He regards you, how Madja slowly peels back the sheets, examining your legs and wincing only the slightest bit. And even if it was just a barely-there wince, it hasn’t gone unnoticed by Az. And somehow, somehow he knows what it means. What she will soon tell you...

“For how long has the bleeding been going on?” she asks in a calm voice, gentle and empathetic.

You shake your head, having lost ever sense or space and time. Azriel needs to be strong for you, so he comes up to Madja and you, bracing one hand on the bedside table to steady himself.

“Since half an hour, maybe an hour I would say,” he informs her, his own voice trembling.

“Hm, I see. Please, may I?”

Madja motions for you to lift your hips and even though it causes you excruciating pain you do as told. She peels the bloody piece of undergarment down your legs and places it on the floor next to her, no sign of disgust on her face. Her eyes fall to you centre, only looking for a moment, sometimes glancing at your belly. She presses her lips in a firm line, wiping her bloody hand over a cloth she has brought and then reaching over to the bag that is standing on the bed next to her.

“Azriel, be so kind and prepare a cloth and a basin with some luke warm water.”

While Azriel hurries of Madja pulls all the tools she needs out of her bag, placing them on the mattress next to her. She softly brushes her hand over your knee, before helping you spread your legs a little further. “I will soon give you something for the pain, I just have to do some checks first.”

You give your head a nod, biting down on lip when it starts to tremble. “Is the baby alive?”

It is then that Azriel returns and Madja blinks her eyes for a long moment. “No!” you shriek.

No answer is also an answer and so you can assume what her silence means.

Azriel crouches down on the floor, next to the bed and you, his hand moving to yours while Madja leans in, softly inserting a tool.

“I will see about that now, Y/N,” she says and adds, “but I have to warn you, this will hurt now.”

Nothing will hurt more than hearing the words again: I am so sorry, but...

The one hand holding the cool tool inside of you, the other moving over your belly. You cry out, your heels pressing into the bed when your back arches and your bottom lifts. This pain is even worse than what you have felt before.

“One more time,” Madja says. “And this will hurt like hell, but I can comfort you, the baby is alive.” It is the only thing you needed to hear, the only thing that matters to you. And now that you have this knowledge, all the pain will be fine, all the pain will be alright. You take it all, accept it all.

Your scream of utter and pure pain fills the room, hollowing of the walls. You still feel it seconds after, still as strong and poignant as before. But slowly, really slowly it starts to vanish.

“The baby is fine?” Azriel asks like he cannot believe it, damp strands of hair toppling over his forehead, his skin covered in a thin film of sweat. He looks between Madja and you, disheveled, broken but starting to heal.

“Yes, what you felt, Y/N,” —Madja removes the tool from inside you, wiping it and then her hands clean on a new cloth— “was a wing.”

She uses the basin with the warm water and the cloth to clean your core, your thighs and your lower belly, softly and carefully running it over you.

“The baby has wings?” Azriel queries, his eyes going wide.

“Yes, the baby has wings. And one of them got stuck and when the baby wanted to turn the talon, that has already formed as it is usually one of the first things, has cut into your womb, ripping, rather it open. That is where the bleeding and the pain came from. I pushed the wing back in now, it should hopefully stay there.”

You cannot comprehend anything, relief and happiness over this baby inside you still breathing, still living, still developing, eroding every other thought and emotion.

“You will need quite some medication that I will bring around later and you are bound to the bed for at least a week or so so this all can heal, Y/N.”

You nod at the healer, squeezing Azriel’s hand. “I know you have a high risk of losing your child, but you have surpassed week fourteen, I am almost positive that you are going to bring this child into this wonderful world.” Letting go of Azriel’s hand, you take hers into yours instead, holding her tightly, crying tears of relief.

The shadowsinger releases a loud breath and bows his head at Madja. “Thank you," both say in union.

With Madja’s help Azriel has managed to change the sheets, she has left then and returned already few moments later to bring you all the medication needed. And although she was positive this time it would work, you still have to risk which means that you should not do anything that would be too exhausting or too strong.

Azriel carefully heaves your top half onto his chest, his arm curling around your waist, softly placing his hand on your belly that now no longer hurts so badly. It still hurts, but the soft brushing of Azriel’s fingers over the membrane soothes the pain. He hums when you bury your face in the crook of his neck.

“I am sorry for not telling you.” “I doesn’t matter anymore. You are healthy and safe. And so is the baby. That is what matters to me.”

You kiss the side of his neck, your hand moving over his heart. "I love you and you will be an incredibly father, Azriel.”

“And I love you, Y/N. I will continue to love more and more with every struggle we face and once this child is here you will be the best mother in the entire world.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ tags (crossed-out I couldn't tag) : @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii @nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbabyg @aroseinvelaris @moony-thoughts @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22 @valeriedarkness @azrielscertifiedslut @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @hanasakr @high-bi-andreadytocry @eerievixen @feyretopia @moonlightazriel @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger @eliieee23 @girasoli-e-sorrisi @illyrianvalkyriecarynthian @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @theworthlessqueen @marina468 @topaz125 @illyrian-dreamer @azriels-mate123

#azriel x reader #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #acotar x reader #acosf x reader

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joenotexotic99 · 7 months

Note

Hello Doll! New fan here! You're so precious! 🥰 we NEED pt 2 of BoB "Sleeping with them for the first time", my request: Speirs, Toye, Eugene, Webster, Buck. AND pls wrote more Lovetropes! I've read it so many times, that I can quote from memory! xoxo

A/n this might be dirtier than pt1. Will do a pt 2 of love tropes ofc. Lmk if you have some people in mind for that

-this is a work of fiction based on the actors portrayal only. Every ounce of respect to the real heros-

Warning: NSFW, plain sinful smut. Lots of language. Minors dni

Masterlist

Ronald Speirs

- this man will change your whole perspective of sex afterwards. You've both been pinning each other for a while and decide to go on a date. Yet the whole time you both have been practically removing each other's clothes with your eyes. Lingering touches, flirty behavior. Lets just say that you didn't quite make it through all the courses before Speirs asked for the check. You make it back to his place before he immediately kisses you. You start removing clothes while grabbing and feeling any skin you can both get your hands on. He turns you around to unzip your dress, taking it off your figure. He spun you back around to pick you up and set you down on the kitchen counter. You remove his belt and tug at his pants and boxers until the both of you are head to toe naked. He gives you a looks off 'are you sure' you nod yes before he lifts you legs up and fucks you. Praise after praise, surface after surface. It's a wild ride.

"Fuck you feel so good you know that princess?"

Joe toye

-he's sweet and spontaneous. It's a similar experience to George luz where it happens after a few dates. It starts slow, careful almost. But eventually you melt under him. He kisses you harder, Backs you to a wall. You remove each other's shirts. His hands unclips your bra. He makes hickies after hickies up and down your neck. He picks you up and brings you to the bedroom. Kisses down to your skirt to take that off as well. This man would love to praise you. And his voice!? He will mutter the most downright bad into your ears. He could make you come from just that alone. I feel like he's big on moaning you know. Your make him feel so good he's going to let you know that. Will do anything you ask him to do. You want him to touch you. He's instantly rubbing your clit, you want him to suck you Titts, he'll do that too. Fuck you harder and faster. He'll break the mattress. Will make you finish at least twice. Once on his cock. Then he'll clean you up with his tongue. But he is sooo sweet with the after care.

"God I wish you could see yourself right now doll. Getting fucked properly"

Eugene roe

-he's honestly a little nervous. He doesn't want to hurt you. It starts back at your place. Some wine after a good home cooked dinner. The alcohol helps with confidence. It's slow and passionate. He would be completely fine with kissing you for hours on end. But you've had one too many dirty dreams about this man so it's now or never. Eugene will be so great with foreplay. Makes you feel worshiped like no man has ever made you feel before. Always checking to make sure you're ok. When it gets time to really dance if you know what I mean he's super scared that something is going to go wrong. This poor man. You are so worked up from his touch that you have to tell him to just shut up and fuck you. It's like a switch goes off in his head. And the only thing he can suddenly think of is you. He fucks you until the only thing you can think of, only thing you can scream is his name. He robs you of every last breath in your lungs. It's dirty, passionate, sweaty and oh so good. Best God damn orgasm of your life. When you both finish and clean up. He definitely raps you up in his arms.

"Thank you"

"For what?"

"Giving me the best dick of my life"

David Webster

-HERE ME OUT! One bed trope. But it's not at a hotel or anything. You head to his place, have dinner, watch a movie, whatever. Oh no it's dark and raining. How about you stay the night? Oh crap this is a one bed apartment. You get the point. He offers you the bed and he'll sleep on the couch but you say that's silly and to just share the bed. Webster already had a huge crush on you so his ears turn a bright red, but how can he turn down the offer to share a bed with you? You get ready and both go to bed. It's awkward at first until he breaks the silence with one of those deep questions and you start talking for hours. One thing leads to another and he's on top of you. He kisses you until you lose your mind. You run your hands up his bare chest until you reach the stubble on his face. You slowly remove each article of clothing on the both of you. The air is thick and warm. Can you imagine how feral this man will go if you praise him. This man just wants some love ok? He asks you how sure you are about this, not wanting to cross any boundaries. You agree enthusiastically. You tug at his hair. Run your hands down his back. He kisses your neck, holds your waist. He's so gentle with aftercare too. From here on out you stay the night more often.

"Just like that web don't stop, so good, you're so good"

"Fuck sweetheart you're gunna make me come"

Buck Compton

-I know this is sorta cliché but fire sex. It's around the holidays. It's cold, snowing and dark outside. Inside it's warm, cozy and comfortable. You are still in puppy love faze. It's sweet. You are both on the couch blanket on top. Fire crackling. Buck reading you a book. You have thought about it a lot, sex. Yet you've never really got there. Steamy makeout sessions. Been there and done that. But it hasn't made it farther than that. But gooood you want it to. Your hands wander over him. Getting more and more close south each time. You rub his thigh, testing the waters. You can tell he notices by how his adams apple moves. You slowly undo his belt as he continues to read the book. He lets you pull his jeans down and slowly remove him from his boxers. You move your hand tauntingly slow. Not moving any faster in hopes of riling him up. He puts the book down and pulls you up to his lips. He removes your shirt and bra. Flips you over to remove your pants and underwear. He's sweet and confident in each move he makes. He kisses up and down your inner thigh until he finally makes it to the center. He gives you a taste of your own medicine. Slowly keeping you on edge with his tongue until you beg him to fuck you. And he does just that. It's better than you could have ever imagined.

"For fucks sake buck if you don't get up here and dick me down"

#band of brothers #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers headcanon #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers smut #ron speirs x reader #joe toye x reader #eugene roe x reader #david webster x reader #buck compton x reader

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sips-tea-cutely · 1 year

Note

If it's not a problem, can I request Poe, Dazai and Chuuya comforting their small chested fem s/o? Smut or fluff is fine!

Poe, Dazai, and Chuuya with a small-chested s/o

a/n: me when i handle rejection because she said “no pls why do i have to hold her hand” so u wait for her to finish her assignment so she’ll text u again and then u accidentally fall in love w dazai again

#edgar allan poe

just doesn’t have an idea at all at how to approach this

would probably think about it while he’s sleeping and when he wakes up makes the decision to buy a dress that compliments curves and w his paycheck it’s probably made of woven gold 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

he’d leave it on your bed with a note “date at 4? ill come to get you”

honestly its just a very casual date???? he’s wearing his normal attire and you’re wearing this most-likely ¥10,000 dress with a loosely knitted jacket, be careful bestie u might get robbed 💀💀💀

my first idea for poe was what if he made a book and then u read it and ur boobs got bigger and the mystery of the book was u have to figure out how they got bigger i cant take myself seriously

#osamu dazai

all boobs are so hot to him, he is for the most part bitchless 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

at first he’d probably think it’s a little silly yk but since it’s one of your insecurities, he’d still think about how it matters to your feelings

he understands your feelings of insecurity but he’d also not know how to approach it so he’d instead suffocate himself in them and praise them like a gift from god

he sleeps on them. wherever you are, if dazai is tired, he’s throwing all his weight onto you, probably has to slouch just for that experience too LMAOO

bet he’s semi-consensually???? groping you 👎👎👎👎👎 the agency most likely has to host a sexual harassment in the work place and then dazai makes the argument “but she’s my girlfriend WTF”, it’s just a disaster oftentimes

#chuya nakahara

takes this VERY seriously, he made the relation that it’s like his insecurity about his height and now he’s gonna do anything to make it better

tight clothes? make sure it’s silk; expensive lingerie? anything to make you feel confident; implants??? hey baby, did you know mori is a surgeon…

something that i can imagine so vividly is just chuuya hugging you from the back and lifting his arms till theyre under your boobs i dont know why

whenever you’re feeling insecure, you can 100% count on chuuya to start listing the thousands of things that make him grovel at your feet hes so down bad guys

best bf out of all of them, OUT OF THE BSD VERSE

#mod maki #bungo stray dogs #dazai osamu #bungou stray dogs #bungou gay dogs #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd #bsd x reader #osamu dazai #osamu dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader #chuuya nakahara #chuuya nakahara x reader #edgar allan poe #edgar allan poe x reader

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iznsfw · 1 year

Note

Chaewon anal pls :3

Fancam

IZ Days of Christmas: Day 6 - Kim Chaewon

LE SSERAFIM's Kim Chaewon x Male Reader Smut

3455 words

Categories: BUTT STUFF (anal + ass eating), brat!Chaewon, cunnilingus, rough sex, spanking, mirror sex, masturbation, doggy style, fingering, squirting, inspired from how a BFH happens + dirty thoughts

I couldn't complete the initial draft, so I just combined it all together but still made it fit the story like the clever little fucker I am. Enjoy.

For @kaedespicelatte ❤

Your cock goes through more bouts of stimulation in these minutes than your other body parts have ever felt in their lives. It suffers—or rather, enjoys, the feel of your fist bobbing up and down its girth as you imagine that your hand is not actually itself, but rather, your favorite idol's cunt.

"Oh, oh, fuck! Fuck, Kim Chaewon, you're so tight!" you yell out, speaking out loud to her in spite of knowing she won't hear you.

Yes, that is her name. You have never felt more of a degenerate and a blushing schoolgirl at the same time. This fourth generation idol does things to you. She's an adorable girl, but it's inevitable to see the hot side to her. As the concepts of her group, IZ*ONE, matures along with the members, she does, too. She becomes even more attractive.

You'd close your eyes to picture her bouncing on your cock better, but that would rob you of seeing the looped muted videos playing on your computer: Chaewon sensually gyrating her ass side to side, in accordance with the choreography of the most recent IZ*ONE comeback: Panorama.

Oh, she knows what she is doing. The smug look reflecting in her eyes, her smile... no one can tell you that Chaewon doesn't know the effect she has on her fans. What, with that tight little body and ass, she can send each and every one of the fans who adore her to heaven. Hell might be a better place for you since you love to lust over this girl so much, but you don't care one bit. You'd set yourself on fire if it meant a chance with her.

In short, and to keep all those pathetic statements, you are a big fan of Kim Chaewon. Too big of a fan, you know, but it is what it is. She's too attractive of a girl to not do... this.

As the videos transition to a new outfit and new angles, you close your eyes and let your mind run wild. What if....

"Oppa, are these shorts too tight on me?"

No. Well, actually, yes. You purposely styled her navy blue shorts that way so it accents her hips and butt, to appeal to the fans. It's your job as her stylist to design good outfits for her that fit the comeback concept and also pleasure the eyes and flesh, but now, it has backfired. The plan you have made is slowly starting to take you as its victim, too.

Chaewon raises the shorts higher, smoothing her fingers on the fabric as it wraps around her tiny body. Your mouth practically waters.

Chaewon, with her dark blue hair curled and cheeks blushed, snaps her fingers in front of your face. "Hello? Hellooo? Oppa, you good?"

"Y-yeah!" you say nervously. Laugh a little at yourself because of how weak you particularly are around Chaewon. You're a professional stylist—you are blunt, but charming enough for richer customers like those from Swing Entertainment, and most importantly: professional, but cool enough for the idols to pull jokes around you.

However, you are none of those things. At least, not in front of Chaewon whom you cannot seem to put your work personality on for. You get along with Eunbi and the other members professionally just fine. Yena has even become one of your best friends. So why can you never act right around her?

"Ohhh." Chaewon draws out the word with a sense of understanding. Afterwards, she sets her hands on her hips and smiles knowingly. "You're one of them now."

"Huh? One of who?"

"One of those fans. Those fans who never want to do anything but worship my body. That's who."

You feel a little guilty now. Have you overstepped on her boundaries? Yes, it is your job to cater to IZ*ONE's male-dominated fanbase, but that does not mean you have to become like them, too. No, you only admire Chaewon in a proper manner. You like her because she is pretty and has a sweet voice, not just because of her body!

Her body that is just so hot and tight...

Chaewon leaning over one of the dressing tables and wiggling her ass is no help at all. She giggles profoundly, as if her doing that was a completely innocent thing, and smiles again. "What if," she says, and pauses, letting the suspense take over, " I let you? "

Is she serious?

You have no time to think about it. As if you were controlled by a perverted puppetmaster, you walk over and smack Chaewon's ass. She gasps deliciously, biting her lower lip, whether for more seduction or simply her libido is unknown. But you set that thought aside to take it all in: how Chaewon's buttcheek feels so soft yet firm at the same time, completely spankable; the wet spot your fingers touch on as you slap her ass and part of her center. Chaewon is as needy as she is evil, so her eyes send you a request. Without words, you understand what she wants you to do.

But foreplay is essential. Taking this into consideration, you close the distance between you till it is almost nonexistent. Her thighs feel great in your palms. You've never noticed how pretty they are before. Pale and thick, they feel like pillows beneath your touch. They are sensitive as well; Chaewon whimpers softly while you take your sweet time with them.

"Yes, I've wanted to fuck you for so long, oppa~" she confesses out of the blue. The mirror reflects your actions performed onto Chaewon's beautiful figure. Most importantly, they show her face: the makeup for the comeback performance makes her siren eyes look even more seductive. Her lips are painted a perfect ruby red. "Everytime I saw you arrange the clothes for the girls, and how passionate you are about everything, I felt so... needy. I've wanted you since the day I met you."

"That makes two of us," you chuckle softly. Kiss her back as gently as you can, somehow assuring yourself through it that you can hold yourself back from ravaging her immediately.

The day you met Chaewon enters your mind. She still uses the same perfume from that day. She had worn an adorable blue and strawberry red sailor-themed dress. You loved its design, so you had reached her, complimented her performance and how she looks in it, and asked who made it for her. When she replied that she had designed and sewn it herself, you were surprised. You already knew that Kim Chaewon is talented, but you somehow forgot that her capabilities are also strong outside of vocals and dance.

She looked adorable. You were both the same age with big dreams that were just recently attained. And now... she looks beautiful. She has always been pretty, but there is a mature side to her now. If you were to be a little more explicit... hot?

"Did you know, Chaewon, that I put a very special feature in these shorts?" you ask, grinning. Feel around her crotch area to render her moaning needily.

"Mm, and what is it?" she asks. Her eyes are closed. They flutter wide open suddenly. "Oh!"

You've inserted a finger inside her. Her wet walls tense due to the unexpected intrusion. Smirk as you explain: "I added a secret zipper. Just so I can fuck you safely whenever I get the chance."

"Mmm, oh..." Chaewon rides your finger in dizzying circles, head thrown back. And it is so much hotter to watch her in motion in the mirror—it reflects the need in her eyes, the talented sway of her hips, and most importantly, her rounded mouth when she lets out her beautiful moans. "W-what's stopping you then, oppa? Why don't you just take me?"

Quicken the wiggle of your finger inside her to reach the right spots. Chaewon gasps out girlishly, looking back at you as if she expects you to just get to it. That's how most of her fans would have done, but you are no ordinary fan of hers. You are her stylist, someone she trusts and someone she actually wants to fuck her.

"It's just so fun to tease you. Look at Chaewonie all red and blushing."

She does. She gazes in the mirror and sees her own flushed face, and becomes redder. Since when did she become this horny for anyone? There's been the occasional boy toy here and there, yet she always finds herself wanting you.

"Please, oppa," she begs, with a cherry on top. Her own cherries must have been rock hard under her bra right now. They poke through the fabric, not protrudingly enough to show an imprint, but still tweakable. They are your findings in the experiment that is "Explore Kim Chaewon: erect, yet soft tempting things that slide against your palm.

Stop fingering her for a while to smack her ass again. This time, you do not hold back. Its impact sends Chaewon's hips jerking forward. She cries out in pain, but your focus is on the way her fat ass cheeks ripples in your hand.

"Say it again," you command firmly. Your eyes seal onto the reflections of Chaewon's in the reflective glass. She whines, not knowing what to do being put in a situation like this, so you spank her again. "Say it again, Chaewon-ah."

"Oppa, can you—pretty please?—fuck my ass?"

Her words are the perfectly written code to trigger the following events: the zipper being wrung even higher, and your cock sliding up into Chaewon's asshole. The tightness is overwhelming; all the lube you've used is the natural wetness from her cunt.

Now, Chaewon arcs her back and screams. Her virginal asshole is not used to your size nor girth, but the pain only extracts more juice from her cunt. It is even wetter than from when you fingered her. She bites her lip in order to quiet herself down, but you slam into her ass harder, knocking her into the table.

"Ah! Oppa!"

"Scream louder," you command. Grasp her by the waist and start to pound her fervently. The puckered hole just grips you so well. What else can you do but let it? Hell, even make it?

Chaewon whimpers. "But what if someone hears? Oppa!" She screams again because of your cock roughly jerking to the depths of her ass, amplifying the pleasure that warms her whole body.

"Let them, they might even join in on the fun."

Chaewon considers this, and you can tell that deep inside, she has to confess that she likes the idea. Imagining someone coming in as you pound her before the mirror in the salon... it is a fantasy that she has not even considered.

She gasps as you add your fingers inside her cunt again. Her gasp turns into a wail; she's being fille din both holes simultaneously, and you are in no way being gentle. Your fingertips dig into a rougher texture, making Chaewon cry out. That is how you know you've reached her G-spot. Start to rub into that spot more and kiss her delicate neck and ears. Capture her earlobe with your teeth and increase the speed of your drills.

"Mm, ahh, fuck, oppa!" Chaewon wails needily. The penetration from both holes is becoming too much. She is just being stretched too well. All her sensitive places are being overstimulated. But she can't cum now! Not when you're jerking into her so perfectly and her mouth is lewdly slack as she watches herself in the mirror. Not when your cock stretches her tight asshole so perfectly that it is nearly agape!

"No, no, can't cum yet!" Chaewon's ass sways just like the part of the choreography you've watched for so long, again and again. "Can't cum y-yet—ahhh!"

Girl cum floods your hand like a storm. Chaewon's scream of pleasure is the thunder. The lightning speed of her body squirming and bucking into yours brings you to your orgasm, too. Her asshole has become incredibly tight despite the stretch your cock has made, wringing ribbons of cum from its tip and filling her ass with semen.

Such a shame that this has to end. You want to stay in the heavens of her ass forever.

Deftly pull out with pants that mirror Chaewon's. Her shorts are now ruined. Her creampied ass wets the fabric along with her own cum. It's filthy—you know you should be angry that her need to be ruined has done its own way of ruining the shorts you've painstakingly sewn and designed, but in that moment, you don't mind. You don't mind one bit.

That's your first orgasm for the night. Your cum has spurted all over your shorts and shirt. You are beyond exhausted; you have been wanking off to Chaewon all night, and your mind has gone to places you never knew could reach.

You can't move nor speak, so instead, you look at your desktop wallpaper of her in the background. She is beautiful—her tongue is cutely stuck out as she mimicks a Kuromi expression. A picture that is supposed to be cute suddenly gives you an idea again.

Sigh and wrap your hand back on your cock. Here we go again.

"You're just so boringgg! Why can't we do it?"

If you were a different person and were told that those words came from a five-year-old girl spoiled by overly adoring parents, you would have believed it. But you aren't a different person and Chaewon isn't five; she's twenty-fucking-two years old and your girlfriend.

It's the weekend, and Chaewon has decided, because you are home, to be brattier than ever. You know your endless scolding and spankings won't stop her because she thrives on those like a little devil with each sin you make, so you try to ignore her loud complaints as you go through your phone.

She sits on the floor, legs folded beneath her, throwing another temper tantrum. You're used to it, but it still annoys you to no end.

"Why can't we do it?" she whines, slapping your knee. "Other couples do it a lot! But you won't let me!"

You ignore her, subtly rolling your eyes and scrolling through your phone. Cool, another funny dog video. But that doesn't evoke a laugh from you; you're too riled up by Chaewon to even chuckle.

You know what she's asking from you, and you are not about to give in.

It's not that you don't want to, per se; it's that you are afraid that it might hurt her. Even if she begs for it day or night, you aren't sure you can go ahead without hurting her.

Despite Chaewon's brattiness (both in and out of your sex life), you still love her and would not want to put her in pain.

"Why can't you put it in my ass too? Are you scared?"

Yeah, that's correct: Kim Chaewon has been begging you to do anal. You know it sounds ridiculous that she has to plead for it from you, but you have your reasons.

Reasons that you are having difficulty keeping.

But you roll your eyes. Fine, you'll bite.

Place your phone down on the sofa, your eyes trained on her with a squint. "Chaewon, I'm tired of this."

"I am too!" she fires back.

"And I'm not scared, Chaewon."

"Oh? Then fuck me."

"Easy," you say, licking your lips. You are about to reach for her when Chaewon shakes her head.

"Uh-uh! You don't just fuck me…I want you to fuck me in the ass."

You should have seen that coming. The little brat.

but if she wants it that bad…

Your mind is a large fire of frustration. Your girlfriend is being the most annoying person on Earth right now, and the pent-up tension between the two of you isn't helping at all. Not one bit.

Your hands quivering, you grab Chaewon without thinking and throw her on the sofa. She screams, whether out of excitement or actual fear is unknown to you. You simply wring her panties and shorts from her legs, finally giving in after abstaining from it for so long.

"Fuck, oppa, what are you doing?" Chaewon asks. Her legs are pushes back in the air. She gasps when you blow cold air all over her pussy, and the round brown hole that has barely been used.

"Lubing you up, what else?"

Chaewon moans with pleasure when your lips connect with her lower ones. Your tongue slides over her lips, flicking her clit, and licking its sensitive form repeatedly.

Chaewon practically quivers from gratification. She lies back to enjoy your oral attack, but you aren't about to give her a gentle way in. Not at all. You grab her thighs and wildly wiggle your tongue inside her, lapping up the juices that eventually start flowing. Lick from the bottom a stripe that finishes sharply on her clit, before trying out something new.

Your tongue prods against her brown hole. "Oh!" Chaewon screams, hands on her mouth as she watches you. She loses sight of you; she can only see stars as this oddly new sensation ripples through her body. Would she like it? Or would she regret asking you to expand your horizons in bed?

Your tongue eases in through the tight hole and backs out, too. It isn't quite anything like you expected. She tastes... delicious? Her juices flow down to her peach and make it easier to eat it, adding to the delicious flavor that is and only is Kim Chaewon.

"Fuck, oppa, you eat my ass so well!" cries out Chaewon. Her asshole tightens around your tongue, but you continue to lick and lap. All the while, your nose also provides constant stimulation to her clit with unintended but welcome rubs.

Chaewon's thighs crash into your head. You actually start to run out of air. You have kept at alternating eating out her ass and pussy, have become so inmersed in eating her out that you forget yourself. Inhale sharply through your nose and let her feminine scent invade your senses, just like how your tongue does to the wet and tight cunt and her unexpectedly delicious ass. It doesn't help that Chaewon keeps wiggling her cunt in your face, forcing you to continue eating her out with no break. Your plan of not giving her rest throughout this session has backfired on you, too.

Luckily, Chaewon is close. She announces it loudly, breath catching in her throat, before she screams loudly. She suddenly tears at your hair and forces you to keep your tongue wildly wiggling in both of her holes, sliding over her erogenous zones and filling them both. It is too much for a one-guy job, and you aren't too sure you can handle it. You aren't sure if you can handle her.

You start to spank Chaewon's thighs wildly, a sign for her to back out. You fire angry slaps at her ass too, but no matter how red and sore they become, they remain around your head. She's desperate, now, but you are, too. Who will win this game? Chaewon, who is squeezing her own breasts and lying back on the sofa pillows moaning, or you—her good-for-nothing daddy?

It's obvious now. Daddies always give in. Might as well do so in a way that pleasures you, too.

Soon, Kim Chaewon is upside-down. She is slobbering all over your cock, diligently blowing its girth, while you give your all into eating her cunt out. You groan; you forgot how good she is at giving you head. Such a pity you are out of breath to praise her. At least your hips are diligently knocking into that cute little face, causing her to gag wildly.

Wow.

You are stunned at the thoughts your own mind can create. The clarity of it all makes your nth orgasm less intense. Although you have had your head full of thoughts about Kim Chaewon—her bending over and letting you take her ass, and her being bratty as you eat her out—only one thought remains clear:

I should become a smut writer.

You have read them before, and it is possibly that which has led to all this feral feelings over Chaewon. You have fantasized a lot before, but you have never actually considered writing them down or posting them.

Perhaps you could—no, you should—write them down. Maybe someone out there will like them enough. Tumblr is always a good place to start.

Determined, you wipe yourself down and clean your place up. You log into your barely touched Google Documents account, add a fresh new document, and start to write.

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