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sturnsrecord · 3 days ago

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CLIMB THROUGH MY WINDOW

PART TWO — [fuckboy!chris x smart!reader. alcohol, drugs, dj on the vj, fingering, eating pussy]. you find yourself gravitated towards chris at a party, letting up more than you thought you would.

ʚ part one ɞ — ʚ part three ɞ

despite your studious lifestyle, and somewhat good decision making as a teenager, you didn't always turn down a party. if you had done all your work for the week, and had found a good lie to tell your parents, then you’d show up.

after that night in your room with chris he hadn't really spoken to you, other than in class or around school. you hated to admit it, but it bothered you. a lot.

it had been a week since then and you’d already seen him chatting to other girls by their lockers, leaning on them like some idiot as he chatted them up.

you didn't let that bother you. you knew chris, and what he was like. he was a fuck boy, of course he was gonna do exactly that and fuck other girls. deep down you wished you had the sexual confidence to sleep with other guys, maybe make chris feel shit. although a part of you knew he wouldn't even care.

you also knew that not having sex with him was bound to push him away, but you weren’t stupid enough to just sleep with him to keep him close. if he didn’t want what you was giving him then he could fuck off. which is what he would do.

this was your first time at a boys party though. you thought there'd be no difference, it was the same clump of teenagers in their school that showed up to all the parties. but apparently, not having a girl as the host meant there were a lot more rouge plus ones and a lot less organisation.

the house was poorly lit, only adding to everyone's intoxication, as well as the mixed smell of bo and alcohol.

you walked through the crowd, clinging onto your best friend's hand in the hopes that you wouldn't be separated. the both of you thought that making a beeline for the garden was the best idea, but the second you got out there it was just as busy.

“who the fuck are all these people?” you mutter to bella. “no idea.” she huffed, looking around to observe all the new faces.

as you make your way through the garden, you spot chris. he’s sat on an outdoor sofa, surrounded by other rowdy boys and some girls who were very obviously flirting with him and his friends. you tug at bella's arm, motioning towards chris.

“no, i don't wanna go over there.” bella huffs, raising an eyebrow. “c’mon. it's just chris, you know he's nice. besides, he's my friend.” you say, slightly desperate to go over there.

“friend?” she questions, giving you a certain look. “you guys are fucking.” she mumbles under her breath. you scoff at her words. “i'm literally a virgin.” you retort, as if that changed anything.

“you're still doing stuff with him.” bella mumbles back, trying to tease you. “okay whatever, i'll meet up with you in a bit.” you say, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “kay love ya.” she hums back before you separate ways.

you walk over to chris, noticing the half rolled joint in his hand. as soon as you’re close, he immediately looks up, a bright smile on his face. “didn't expect to see you here.” he says, returning his gaze to the joint as he delicately compacts the tobacco and weed into a cone.

“why not?” you remark, taking a sip of your drink, the already decided first and last of the night. he shrugs, licking the paper. “dunno, hardly see ya at parties.” he responds, folding over the paper meticulously before looking up at you. “thought you'd have too much work to do.” he remarks.

you raise your eyebrows at his comment. “well i don't.” you say with a smug smile. “hmm, that's a first.” he mumbles, the joint hanging from his lips, making his words even less clear.

“shut up.” you roll your eyes, frowning slightly. he smirks to himself, leaning forward to get a lighter off the table.

you hesitate slightly, going to sit on the armrest of the sofa. he takes note as he leans back, “you can sit y’know.” he says, bringing the lighter up to the end of his zoot. you sit down, fixing your skirt slightly to be composed on the small surface.

he wastes no time wrapping his arm behind you, his hand gripping onto your hip. you’re a little shocked at the tame yet out in the open pda, but watching chris relax as he inhales the weed makes you realise that it was very possible that he'd done other shit tonight too.

“you want some?” he asks, smoke tumbling out of his mouth as he speaks. you look down at the joint being offered to you, hesitating for a second.

“you can say no, m’not forcing-” you interrupt, pinching it from his hand as you take a toke. he smirks, watching as you smokes. he won't deny, you looked very attractive.

you hand it back, appreciating the burn to the back of your throat at the strength. “good?” he questions your reaction.

“better than any other weed i've smoked.” you answer honestly, taking a sip of your drink, hoping it would soothe your throat, despite the fact it was a vodka-coke.

“that's cos i’ve got good shit.” he says, his face scrunching as he inhales whilst talking. a couple of his friends leave, creating an open space next to chris. he taps the side of your thigh, motioning you to move to sit next to him.

you stand promptly, walking past his spread legs to sit next to him.

“what you drinkin then?” he asks curiously, a little smile on his face like he's teasing you for drinking. “guess.” you respond, holding it out for him to try. he sighs, reluctantly grabbing the cup from your grasp to give into your little game.

he takes a sip, grimacing slightly. “you drink vodka-coke?” he questions, the judgement clear in his voice as he hands the solo cup back. “it's better than doing coke.” you mumble, a stupid jokey remark you were almost embarrassed to say out loud.

he gives you a look, a slightly amused smile on his face. “that was a poor joke.” he tells you, despite the grin on his face. “well, it's true.” you say sharply, giving him a look of disappointment.

he shakes his head with a smile before taking a toke. “since when d’you care bout the drugs i do?” he asks casually, a small frown on his face, contrasting his slight smile.

you could tell he was a little offended, and that he actually didn't like the joke you’d made. you shrug. “i wouldn't say i care, s’just not good for you.”

“hmm.” he nods a little, which was him nicely telling you to fuck off. “so like, you wouldn't let m’do a line off you?” he mumbles, looking over at you with an intense gaze as he takes another puff.

you almost choke on your drink, your eyes wide as he asks. “uh.” you cough a little, composing yourself slightly. “what d’you mean a line- like where on me?” you question, now a little curious at the proposition.

he grins at your response, shrugging. “dunno, between your tits or somethin.” he says casually.

“and how many girls have you done that with?” you question, calling him out a bit.

“between the tits?” he repeats, thinking for a second. “none.” you roll your eyes at the obvious insinuation that he'd done lines off other parts of girls bodies.

“want anymore?” he offers, his eyes now a little more red and sleepy. you take it from him, relaxing back on the couch as you inhale.

“so, s’that a no on the line?” he murmurs, clearly high as a kite as he looks over at you with a lazy smile, subtly holding out a baggie with white powder.

you look over at him in slight disappointment, snatching the baggie from between his fingers as you shove it into his coat pocket. “don't just pull that out.” you panic slightly, not loving how carefree he was sometimes.

he looks around, clicking his tongue against his teeth. “no one here gives a shit.” he grumbles, frowning a little before his gaze meets yours again, his eyes silently asking.

“you actually want to?” you question, not really understanding the point. you take a toke of the zoot after speaking, stubbing the end out into the ashtray on the table.

he shrugs with a small smirk. “why not?” he questions, like he's daring you to do so. you sigh, questioning your own judgement as you actually consider it.

he senses your hesitation, leaning forward a bit as his elbows rest on his knees. “doesn’t have t’be between your tits.” he mumbles, his eyes roaming over your body like he was looking for another spot. “could do it off your thigh.” he suggests, his voice almost hoarse as he speaks, making it very apparent that he himself liked that idea.

you definitely preferred that idea, it seemed like less of a hassle. maybe it was the mixture of the alcohol and the weed, clouding your judgement, but you were down to do that. “m’kay.” you mumble, giving in. it's not like you yourself were gonna do a line.

he nods a little, almost proud of you for saying yes and venturing out a bit. then he stands, offering his hand to you before he leads you through the house, your delicate hand gripping onto his more rough one as you tag along behind him.

he took you to an upstairs bathroom, letting you shut and lock the door behind you. you turn and he's already got the baggie out, holding it open. “shut the lid, n’sit.” he tells you, motioning towards the toilet.

you do as told, mindlessly chucking your bag onto the floor before you take a seat on the closed toilet lid, the plastic cold against your upper thighs.

“this is so stupid.” you mumble, feeling a little nervous. “and pointless.” you add, watching as he sorts out his shit.

“nah, it's hot.” he corrects, walking over to you before he gets on his knees in front of you. he holds his id card against your thigh, almost creating a barrier before he sprinkles a small line over your skin.

you watch intensely, feeling your heart rate spike at the sheer adrenaline of the situation.

“don't move.” he tells you, using the edge of the card to straighten out the line a little. you take in a small breath, trying your hardest to remain completely still.

he puts the baggie and his card away, looking up to see your slightly nervous expression. “you good?” he asks, his hand coming to gently rub your other thigh. you nod a little. “can you just do it, i'm scared i'm gonna flinch or move or something.” you say quickly, clearly quite stressed about the prospect of spilling the expensive substance on your thigh.

he chuckles slightly at your panic, more calm as he trusted that you wouldn't move. but he complies, reaching into his back pocket for a dollar bill.

he rolls it into a tube before leaning over slightly as he brings it to one nostril, pressing the other with his finger. you feel the dollar bill touch you slightly, before he runs it along the line, snorting the coke.

he's quick to tip his head back, his face scrunching as he sniffs, making sure it's all in.

your grip on the side of the toilet seat loosens slightly, as the muscles in your thigh relax. you look over at him as he puts the bill away, sniffling a little as it passes. then your gaze shifts to the tiny trace of the substance on your thigh, a miniscule amount left.

he pops his thumb into his mouth before collecting the remainder on your skin. “you want it?” he offers, although he's not expecting you to say yes. you shake your head. “how are you meant to snort that?” you question.

he smirks before sucking it off his thumb and then wiping it clean on his jeans. “like that.” he says, watching as you look at him curiously. “huh.” you mumble.

“s’not a lot, won't do much.” he shrugs, before looking back up at you.

neither of you move as his gaze shifts over your body, specifically at your exposed thighs and short denim skirt.

the coke was obviously getting to him as his gaze became fixed and concentrated, whereas your mind was spinning slightly. you were minorly cross faded, making you more brave than usual, as demonstrated by that little performance you just took part in.

“what kinda underwear d’ya wear.” he mumbles, his eyes not leaving your thighs. you smile at his question, finding amusement and confidence in the fact that he thought about that kinda stuff.

instead of answering you begin to part your legs, revealing your black lacy underwear, the material only partially see through.

his mind blanks at your action, his mouth filling with saliva as he admires the view and boldness. “you wear lacy shit?” he questions, his voice hoarse and lustful. “only when i dress up.” you respond with a smile, looking down at his reaction.

“looks fuckin sexy.” he mumbles, moving his hand forward to lightly brush his fingers over the fabric, feeling the slight dampness.

his head falls against your thigh at the feeling of how wet you are, his other hand gripping your calf. “fuck.” he groans, keeping his fingers there.

he looks up at you eventually, his eyes heavy. “d’you have any idea how wet y’are?” he mumbles. you nod with a small smile, basking in how much it was sending him over the edge.

he refrains from moaning again, instead returning his attention back to the heat between your legs. you gently play with his hair as you watch his fixation. “can i?” he murmurs.

you don’t even know what he's asking, but you’re quick to respond. “yeah.” you whisper, catching your bottom lip between your teeth.

he pushes the bottom of your skirt up, watching as it bunches at your hips. then he hooks his fingers into your underwear, tugging it down your legs. you lift your hips up, helping him, and that's all the confirmation he needs to know you’re more than ok with this.

he separates your legs, admiring your naked form. “fuck-” he whispers, reaching out to touch you, sliding his fingers through your folds. you slouch back, looking down at the movement of his hands. you keep an eye on where his hands are going, almost waiting for him to do something.

his middle finger moves lower, gently prodding at your entrance. you flinch slightly at the new feeling.

“you still not into me fingerin you?” he questions, fixated on the way the tip of his finger slipped in slightly. “you can.” you breathe out, suddenly desperate to feel him. maybe it was your intoxication talking, but either way you knew you wanted chris, you just struggled to rationalise and vocalise it to him.

“you sure?” he asks, tilting his head up to look at you. you nod eagerly, opening your legs a little wider to give him access.

he wastes no time slowing pushing his finger in before gently twisting his wrist to get the right angle. you bask in the new sensation, never having had anything up there. then he speeds up quickly, curling his finger up into your g-spot.

“oh fuck-” you gasp, your body tensing slightly at the intense pleasure. he concentrates on the rhythm of his arm, making sure to hit the spot inside you perfectly.

“can't lie, i really wanna go down on you.” he murmurs breathlessly, clearly overcome with lust in the moment.

“what..?” you mumble out, returning to reality for a second as you focus your eyes on his face, and the desperate expression on it.

“y’know, when you give a girl head-.” he explains with a sly grin. you shake your head quickly. “fuck off.” you scowl at his sarcasm. “i mean like, right here?” you raise your eyebrows as you question.

he looks over your body, your legs spread for him, exposing yourself at almost eye level. “well, i mean…” he raises an eyebrow, making a point about the position you were in right now.

you think for a second, looking over the situation. he senses the hesitation, bringing his hand to gently rub your thigh. “it’ll feel real good. promise.” he tells you, venturing closer.

your heart rate picks up as he brings his face closer to your heat, a peak in anxiety and insecurity as no ones been that close to you like that before. but all that vanishes as his tongue presses over your sensitive clit, making your body jerk in pleasure.

“mghh..” you groan, threading your fingers through his hair. he gets the message, immediately going all in, circling his tongue over your clit expertly, his hand still gripping your thigh.

“you're really good at that.” you croak out, your mouth momentarily falling open at the feeling. he smirks against you, concentrating on the task at hand as he soaks in the praise.

after a few minutes of the delicate touch of his tongue, he shifts so that he can hold both your thighs, pulling you closer to his face. for comfort you end up mindlessly resting your legs over his shoulders as he goes in further, sucking and nipping at your clit.

it makes your back arch, chris holding down your hips with his hands. “fuck-” you moan, your voice cut off by a gasp as he gently slips a finger in.

you sit up a little, looking down at�� him with an already fucked out expression. “wait- i’m gonna cum if you do that.” he removes his mouth, looking up at you curiously, “is that not the point?” he taunts, his finger slowly moving in and out of you.

“yeah, but i'll be too loud.” you whimper, reminding the both of you where you were, anyone could be outside that door waiting for the toilet.

his smirk only widens at your admission, “be quiet then.” he ushers before his lips connect with your clit again. he leaves you with no time to dispute before gasps and whines are tumbling out of your mouth again.

he's quick to match the pace of his finger with the movement of his tongue, applying more pressure to your sensitive nerve as his finger hits your g-spot repeatedly.

you grip onto his hand that's still on your thigh, holding tightly as you try to make less noise.

from the constant simultaneous stimulation you feel, waves of pleasure coarse through your body, digging your nails into his skin as your orgasm builds up.

“gonna come.” you squeak, trying your best to stay silent. you resolve to covering your mouth with your hand, poorly muffling your moans as your high hits. he looks up at you from his position between your legs, not wanting to miss the sight of you coming undone from his touch.

your hips desperately grind forward onto chris's mouth as you come, his movements slowing to a reasonable pace. he removes his mouth, watching his finger pump in and out slowly as your body shakes and you come down from your orgasm, eventually pulling his finger out.

once you've calmed down, he gently removes your legs from his shoulders, planting your feet on the floor.

“holy fuck.” you breathe out, almost in shock from how good that felt. he basks in your orgasmic haze, loving how good he made you feel. “you taste really good.” he comments, sucking your slick off his middle finger.

“don't do that- that's disgusting.” you mutter, frowning judgmentally.

“what?” he chuckles, amused by your reaction. “i just had m’tongue on your pussy.” he points out. you grimace a little, despite the truth of it. “don't say it like that.” you mumble, shaking your head slightly with the same disgusted look on your face.

he rolls his eyes playfully as he stands up, “you're ridiculous.” he tells you before he goes to wash his hands.

you sit up, your legs a little shaky as you pick your underwear off the floor, stepping into them. you stand, pulling them up before fixing your skirt.

“you good?” he asks, leaning against the counter as you sort your stuff. before you can answer there's a bang on the door followed by a loud voice telling you to hurry up.

your eyes go wide, and you want nothing more than to curl up into a ball and hide. “chris, i can't go out there.” you whisper, picking your bag off the floor.

“s’fine.” he says, like that's supposed to just reassure you completely. he saunters to the door, unlocking it and pulling it open almost theatrically.

chris daps the guy up, and from the friendly interaction you can tell it's one of his friends.

“you guys hookin up?” he asks, looking between the both of you with a grin, his gaze remaining on your legs for far too long.

“nah, just doin the usual.” chris says, subtly wiping his nose as he speaks. the guy's eyebrows raise before he looks over at you again. “you do coke?” he questions, clearly surprised.

you go to respond, your words getting caught in your throat. but it doesn't matter because chris is already talking. “she did a bump, wanted to try it.” chris says, leaning closer to the guy as he speaks.

then chris's arm wraps around your waist, pulling you further away from the bathroom. “see ya around.” chris says to the guy, before pushing you so that you were now walking in front of him, a part of you thinking he did it to block the view of your ass from his friend.

“you okay?” he asks you, walking behind you as you descend the stairs with slightly shaky legs. “fuck off.” you tell him, trying to act like he hadn't just made your legs complete jelly.

he chuckles a little at your attitude, holding his hands up in surrender. “m’just asking.” he mumbles, a grin on his face.

you both reach the bottom of the stairs and you turn to look at him. “well i'm fine.” you hum before looking down at your unstable legs. “my legs are just a bit shaky.” you mumble under your breath.

his eyebrows raise a little, his own cockiness taking over. “oh really, why's that?” he asks, leaning on the bannister with a sly knowing smirk.

you roll your eyes, not wanting to feed into his ego further, although to be fair that may have been the best orgasm of your life.

“why'd you always ruin it?” you huff, moving to stand in front of him, his arm still over the bannister. “m’not ruining nothin.” he mumbles, pressing his lips together as he pulls you in by your hip.

your bodies are flush, and you can feel his steady heartbeat against your own chest, a contrast to yours. you look around at the crowds of people, some in conversation, others walking past the both of you to go upstairs. “you sure you wanna be seen like this with me?” you question, taking note of the increased pda when he's coked.

he pouts, a soft frown forming on his face. “what's that meant to mean?” he mumbles, although he knows exactly what you mean.

“we just look very couply right now.” you point out, looking at the lack of space between your bodies. he shrugs like it's nothing, but you know it is.

“so, we're just two people havin fun at a party.” he says, his other hand coming up to brush a strand of hair out of your face, tentatively tucking it behind your ear. “just cos we look couply, dont mean we are.” he adds.

“m’kay.” you mumble, just accepting his silly answer. “what?” he questions, frowning down at your change in expression.

“nothing.” you say, spreading a smile across your face to reassure him. “s’not nothin, what’d i say?” he asks, his hand now playing with the ends of your hair although his gaze is focussed on your eyes, following their every move.

you sigh, unsure of what to even say. “it's just-” you're cut off by him kissing you, his hands gripping your face to hold you in place. the kiss is hot, but softer than usual. his tongue isn't licking across your lip like usual, instead it's just the soft plush of his own lips. the intensity is there, it's just not in the action, rather in the emotion. which scares you a little.

he pulls away, pressing a soft peck to your lips. “stop thinkin so much.” he tells you with a small smile, rubbing his hand over your cheek.

you look up, into his eyes, aware of how adoring your gaze must be right now. “sorry.” you mumble out, drawing your eyes away from his.

“you're good.” he says shortly, before he kisses her head. you feel cold as soon as he's no longer touching you.

“i'm gonna go find bella.” you tell him, taking a little step away trying to keep it casual after that interaction. he nods, looking around a little. “i'll see you later then?” he says. you nod before parting ways.

you watch him walk away, letting out a breath you were unknowingly holding. fuck.

©sturnsrecord

notes . reupload from my previous account @/plan8sturn, I will be continuing the series here

#sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturiolo fanfic #sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #sturniolo #chris sturniolo #★sturnsrecord #★ctmw

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lightseoul · 21 hours ago

Text

CHAPTER 3 | ALL OUT OF LUCK

w.c. 4.0k (i know)

tags. fem!reader, pro-hero!katsuki, aged-up (26), much cussing, some adult themes (again, no smut y'all), bkg and reader go through one stage of grief: bargaining, the plot thickens!

a/n. wrote all this in one day—i couldn't put the doc down until i finished it. this chapter is jam-packed and has lots going on, but we're only at the beginning. i hope you have as much fun reading it as i did writing it!

links. masterlist, ao3 (coming soon)

“…Though I trust you’ll understand if we set some—” he pauses, and you’re 99% sure it’s for dramatic effect, “—precautionary measures in place?”

“Waddya have in mind?” asks Bakugou, his rough tone laced with unmistakable skepticism.

“Well, for starters…”

Their leader glances back at the bionic woman. “Sayaka, are they ready?”

Sayaka nods. “Ready for installation, Masaki-san.”

You scramble to take a mental note of their names—as well as try to ignore the fact that the robotic girl sounds like a robot, too—as you watch Masaki gesture to the escort from earlier who’s standing at the sides and in the shadows.

He emerges into the dim lights with a wide stride, but to your surprise, another leg steps forward right beside him. Your eyes trail up until they land on the other person, widening in confusion because they look just like a carbon copy of the intimidating escort—tall, ginger head, pale skin—only it’s a girl.

There’s no mistaking it.

They’re twins.

Twin bodyguards. In a quirk supremacist group.

You fight the urge to let out a dry laugh.

But apparently, neither of the two finds the situation funny, because they’re nothing but serious as they approach Masaki and bow politely, before heading to Sayaka and taking what looks like tiny…metal pieces?

You don’t get the opportunity to wonder about what those were, though, because, in the blink of an eye, the twins are already stalking straight toward you and Bakugou, glaring daggers.

“Those are bugs,” Masaki explains just as the twins arrive right in front of you, with the guy from earlier towering over Bakugou and the female staring you down a few inches away from your face, decidedly a little too close for comfort. You barely manage to stop yourself from gulping and looking away.

“They’ll be tracking your speech and movements 24/7. And don’t worry, they’re waterproof.”

You sense Bakugou’s about to spit some smart-ass comment, judging by the way he puffs up like he tends to do when he’s about to drop a curse-riddled quip, but he doesn’t get the chance to deliver the blow because the twins are on you in an instant.

You accidentally let out a yelp as the woman grabs the hem of your tank top so roughly you think it’s gonna tear, before she stuffs her right hand up. Mortified, you struggle against her hold, but her left has a death grip on you.

“Relax,” she seethes, obviously very much already done with you. “I’m just installing it.”

At her words, you manually will yourself to calm down, and it quickly dawns on you that she’s not touching you violently or inappropriately. You tamp down a shiver as her cold fingers come into contact with the center of your chest, right at the dip of your bra and between your breasts, feeling the surface before sticking something that you promptly identify as the tracker.

And as she retracts her hand and steps away from you, right at the same time as her twin like they’re wired for synchrony, you reflect on how it’s so light that you barely feel an added weight to your body. It’s circular, too, and you debate for a second whether or not to peer down at your chest to see what it really looks like, before ultimately deciding against it.

You can do that later, in the privacy of the (hopefully not downstairs) bathroom.

If such a concept even exists.

“Thanks, you two,” comes Masaki’s gentle voice, before shifting to regard you and Bakugou. “You can get to know your designated guards later on, but for now, let’s continue.”

As if on cue, the twins take a further step back before eventually returning to their dark corner.

“What we just affixed on your chests are special devices, again, designed to monitor any sound you make as well as your specific locations. They’re not your ordinarily engineered trackers—they’re Sayaka’s thanks to her quirk—which also allows her to directly receive the feedback and project it for others to see and hear.”

Ah.

You don’t know how that works exactly, but you bet the expensive ass perfume that you got for your birthday last year—the very one you wear for special occasions like now—that it’s got something to do with her robotic parts.

“Does everyone in your group get one, too?” questions Bakugou, who’s now looking a bit miffed. You’re sure he didn’t enjoy getting felt up by a stranger who he just called someone’s little lackey.

“Only the new members,” Sayaka answers succinctly, her voice sounding like it’s filtered with autotune.

But especially you two, you finish for her in your head. And really, you can’t blame them. Taking in a pro-hero, let alone Japan’s #2, is a huge gamble, and Bakugou quite literally can make or break their whole plan to attack. This level of precaution is not at all uncalled for. You’d even go so far as to say it’s not enough.

Bakugou must be thinking the same thing, too, because he doesn’t offer a follow-up question.

Masaki takes your silence as a sign for him to go on.

“Of course, that’s only the first layer of protection.”

Shit.

You hope you didn’t just think that into existence.

The plain-looking leader puts on that prudent smile of his, before turning to look at the old man. “Kouki-san here has a very handy quirk. Teleportation,” he glances at Bakugou, “A sought-after power in the hero world, isn’t it?”

Bakugou shrugs, although you’re guessing the answer is yes and that he’s just too stubborn to admit it.

Figures.

“Well, he’s gone and mastered his quirk, and has since been indispensable to our organization. Essentially—” Masaki huffs, like he’s preparing for the bomb he’s about to drop, “—the very moment you even hint at betraying us, we’re gone,” he snaps his fingers, “Just like that. And you won’t be able to trace us.”

“Really?” drawls Bakugou. “You’ll abandon this cushy, not at all seedy ass headquarters of yours?”

“This is only one of many, Dynamight,” Masaki responds, seemingly unbothered by Bakugou’s taunt. “And this is actually not our headquarters.”

He picks up his glass of alcohol and lightly twirls it around in his hand. “I also trust that you’re aware of what a distinguished group such as ours entails? Naturally, we need to have somewhere safe where we can conduct all our activities under the radar.”

“As you can imagine, it’s not just us five. We have many, many members who share the same principles, and this club can’t possibly be large enough to host all of us.”

“Where are you going with this?” Bakugou demands.

“What I’m saying is that we have a separate place as our headquarters, a place much bigger than this. And—” he cocks his head toward Kouki, “—we get there via teleportation.”

“Obviously,” sneers Bakugou, “Otherwise that’d be a huge waste of the old man’s quirk, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes, but that’s only one of the reasons. You see, it’s also so that you won’t know where it is located,” Masaki pauses once again, which you decide in a split second is warranted because of what he’s going to say next.

“And for that to work, we’re also going to have to lock you inside.”

Your breath hitches. Bakugou bristles.

“The fu—”

“We’re going to have to make you stay with us—” the plain-looking man interjects with a slightly louder voice, “—at least until the day of the attack, as we cannot risk you two being seen constantly going in and out of this club every night.”

You’re about to contribute to the conversation for the very first time but Bakugou beats you to it. “Fucking stay in? Isn’t that gonna cause even more suspicion?”

“It wouldn’t if you both come up with a good excuse to disappear,” Kouki retorts with a smidge of attitude. He eyes Bakugou with a raised brow, “Wouldn’t now be a great time to have a top-secret ‘mission’ overseas? And I’m sure your friend here can whip something up.”

You brush off the annoyance that shoots through you at the dismissive mention. Instead, you finally bring yourself to speak up. “I thought you just said we’ll be stuffed in a secret hideout?”

“Ah,” Masaki sounds out, “You are, but this is our gateway, so to speak. You go here to get teleported to the headquarters, and from there, get teleported back here to return to the outside world. We won’t hesitate to teleport away from both places the second we have to, but that doesn’t mean our HQ is easily disposable to us, hence all these measures.”

“All this to say,” he furthers, his timid tone juxtaposing the threatening words you’re sure he’s about to utter, “You two better think twice about betraying us.”

There it is.

He smiles again. “Do either of you have any questions?”

Beside you, Bakugou mutters to himself for a second, before clearing his throat. “You’re yapping on and on about what you’ll do if we betray you and shit. Ain’t that such a warm welcome for your new members?”

—A rhetorical question, because he doesn’t let anyone get a word in. Instead, he presses on.

“But what if we don’t? What’s in it for us?”

“You get to live out your ideals, boy,” comes the old geezer’s snappy reply.

Bakugou snorts, and you’re sure it’s not because he found the guy hilarious.

“That’s a shitty deal on our end, don’t ya think so?” the pro-hero shifts his weight on his other foot. “How ‘bout this, you guarantee protection for my…friend here, and we’re even.”

You hold your breath.

Looking past the way he just so awkwardly referred to you as his friend, that segue just now wasn’t exactly the smoothest.

Still, you have no choice but to roll with it. So, with much conviction, you morph your face into that of shyness—one that you hope is charming enough to win their graces.

“Just her?” asks Masaki, placid as ever.

“I can get by,” comes Bakugou’s confident response.

Once again ignoring the mildly degrading remark, you ready yourself to use your quirk. You closely examine the leader’s features as they transform into an expression of contemplation, even as he turns to the other two and engages them in quiet conversation.

You and Bakugou stand there for a few moments, waiting, before Masaki finally turns again.

And all that preparing to utilize your quirk goes out of the dilapidated windows once you catch a glimpse of his face.

“I guess that’s settled, then.”

Called it.

Masaki then raises an eyebrow at the two of you. “Any more concerns?” he smiles to himself, “Heartwarming requests?”

Neither of you says anything.

“None?” he asks again, before patting his thighs in a gesture of finality. “Well, then, I believe it’s time for you to see your new home! Kouki-san?”

At the mention, the old man slowly gets up from where he made himself very comfortable on the couch, and walks leisurely towards you, planting himself in front of and between you and Bakugou.

“Hang tight,” Kouki smirks, reaching out for both of your hands, and you’re just about registering how eerily cool his are when the ground that was perfectly carpeted and steady just a second ago suddenly collapses from beneath you.

A violent wave of nausea instantly hits you as the room completely vanishes before you, replaced by pitch-black darkness in a second. You scramble for purchase—tightening your grip on the person responsible for whatever the fuck this is—as the noise instantaneously gets sucked in a vacuum, leaving you in full silence. Your legs are jelly as you stumble on your feet, and you’re convinced you’re going to fall to your death down to the abyss below you when—just as fast as the lounge disappeared—a warmly lit hallway materializes in front of you.

But it’s too late, you’re already out of balance and lurching forward—inch by excruciating inch—right until you feel a hand grab your forearm and you’re unceremoniously yanked back into an upright position.

You whip to look at Bakugou as you wobble on your feet, and he’s staring at you with such alarm that makes you feel so…vulnerable. He retracts his left hand a beat later when you eventually steady yourself, his serious and unrelenting gaze fixated on you before shifting to study the place you just got teleported to.

You follow suit, eyeing the hallway as you place the hand Kouki was holding into your pocket to warm it up.

Similar to the club and the room you were just in, the area is barely illuminated, but it’s bright enough for you to make out the dark wooden doors that line both sides. You’re right in the middle of the hallway, and at one of the ends you think are staircases leading both to a lower and an upper level, while at the other end is another door.

If these lead to what you think they lead…

Then, damn.

They weren’t kidding about lodging.

From the corner of your eye, you see the old man look at you and follow your line of vision, shifting to study the aforementioned door at the end of this hallway.

“That’s your room,” he offers curtly, like this job of chaperoning you to your place of residence for who knows how many days is beneath him.

Room, you parrot in your head.

Room singular.

“Well?” he asks, not even bothering to hide his impatience when neither you nor Bakugou makes a move. “Aren’t you going to check it out?”

You hesitate, glancing at Bakugou to find him frowning at Kouki, before turning to look at you.

“We don’t have all day, you two,” Kouki adds on with a sigh at the same time you raise your eyebrows ever so minutely at the pro-hero, as if asking for confirmation. “Go on, I’ll wait here.”

It only takes a small nod from Bakugou to pull you out of the paralysis, and the minute that he does, you’re already moving to the spot beside him, matching his pace as you trudge towards the door.

As inconspicuously as you can, you check the corners of the room along the wall facing you for cameras, only to find none.

And so you do it.

With your backs turned against the Teleportation master, you finally let your emotions show on your face.

You also chance a peek at Bakugou, only to find him already eyeing you with the very same expression you’re sure is written all over your features.

The one that says you’re fucked.

You don’t get to dwell or comment on the shared sentiment, though, mainly because they’ll hear every word you say, but also because you arrive in front of the door. Bakugou looks at the knob and then at you warily, and you can only nod in encouragement.

That seems to be enough of a push for him, because he reaches for and turns the handle, pushing past the entryway so you can walk in from behind him.

Now, the first thing that registers after you startle at the door closing is the fact that the room is small. Tiny, even. There’s another door at the back, which you think leads to the comfort room.

But that’s pretty much it.

That, and there’s only one bed.

To your credit, though, you’re able to refrain from gasping in horror at the sight of it, which you can chalk up to the next thing that you see—a couch.

It doesn’t seem like it’s foldable or can be converted into a larger bunk, but it’ll have to do. It’s brown and hopefully real leather this time, and is crammed right next to the bed. You remind yourself that they were only expecting Bakugou, and so you can’t really complain and that you’ll have to make do with sleeping on the couch for the next n days.

Aside from all those, though, the room is relatively bare.

Well, apart from the cameras with the blinking red light at the upper, four corners of it.

But you don’t get to wordlessly warn him about it, let alone come to terms with the fact that they’re deadass going to be watching your every single move, because something seizes your wrist, spinning you around, leaving you face to face with Bakugou.

You’re too preoccupied with the sudden motion and the fact that you’re just a breadth’s width away from each other to notice the darkened look in his eyes.

Which, in hindsight, you should’ve noticed.

If you wanted any chance at bracing yourself for what he’s going to do next.

“Wha—”

You yelp—cutting yourself off—when Bakugou, the Bakugou Katsuki—Japan’s #2 Pro-hero, Vogue Japan’s Hottest Bachelor of the Year, and the dickhead who used to be your biggest, fattest crush—grabs at your neck and smashes his lips against yours.

You involuntarily jerk away from him, but his free hand shoots up to roughly clutch your hip just as his grip on your neck tightens, pinning you in place and right against him.

And you don’t know how the fuck it happens, but he does something with his tongue, or his mouth? His teeth? You don’t know at this point, and frankly, you don’t want to know, because coupled with his scalding hold on your body, it causes you to do the unthinkable.

You moan.

And again, you don’t even get the opportunity to feel the utter humiliation, because just as quickly as he pounced on you, Bakugou pulls away, but not before scowling at the cameras as if he just noticed them—which you doubt—then taking your hand, dragging you out of the door and into the hallway.

The old man glances at you. “Are you don—”

“Take us the fuck back now,” Bakugou spits as he pulls you right beside him.

At that, Kouki’s eyebrows furrow. “You ought to know better than to speak to an elderly like that.”

But the man who just fucking kissed you apparently can’t give a single flying fuck, because he retorts without missing a beat. “Take us back now.”

That must’ve been the final straw, because Kouki’s face finally morphs into the scowl that you think he’s been trying to suppress this entire time, but to your surprise, he moves closer to the two of you and once again, reaches for your hands.

You don’t know what the fuck is going on, but what you do know is that Bakugou’s onto something here, because he wouldn’t have pulled that stunt just now without any reason, which means the last thing you should do is resist.

And so you take Kouki’s hand, just as Bakugou snags the other, and when you do, the floor gives out from underneath you.

You’re still overcome with a sense of dizziness as your surroundings shift and the noise dissipates around you, but as you find the lounge slowly appearing before your eyes, you find that it’s not as bad the second time.

Bakugou’s still holding your hand when you arrive at the second floor of the club, right back where you stood from a while ago.

Sayaka is the first one to notice you, most likely thanks to her quirk and the goddamn device stuck to your chest, but it’s Masaki who speaks up when he catches wind of your arrival.

He puts down the deck of cards you think he’s just been shuffling before shifting to look at you. “Back so soon?”

Kouki turns around to face him, “Bakugou demanded to—”

“Why the fuck are there cameras in our room?”

Offended, the old man whips around again to glower at Bakugou, seemingly ready to unleash the sermon of the century. “Young man—”

“Turn them the fuck off,” the pro-hero interjects, “And the mics, too.”

Bakugou hesitates, as if unsure of how to properly say the next few words. He glances at you, expression inexplicable, before turning back to face them. “…At least at night.”

Silence.

“Oooh, I see where this is going,” comes Masaki’s reaction a moment later, a knowing smile creeping on his face. You feel yourself flame. “You weren’t being clear with us earlier, Bakugou. You didn’t say you brought your girlfriend.”

“Didn’t think it was necessary to point out,” comes Bakugou’s terse reply.

“Yeah, well, I’m afraid it doesn’t matter either way. The surveillance is for our safety, which comes above everything else, even the privacy of our esteemed members.”

“You promised you’d protect her at all costs,” Bakugou counters. “Protecting her modesty from the perverts you call your surveillance people is part of that.”

Now, you’re not a hundred percent certain, but you’re pretty sure he just shot the cyborg a look at the latter half of the sentence, which you think would’ve been a noble gesture—if it weren’t for the fact that it’s not just her, judging by the sheer number of cameras in this room alone.

Your attention drifts back to Masaki, however, when he heaves a sigh, leaning against the couch with a tired expression on his face. “Tell me, then, Dynamight. How do you propose we make sure you don’t brew something behind our backs off surveillance?”

“I can turn off the bugs,” Sayaka pipes up before Bakugou can answer, her mechanical voice drifting across the room. “They emit a blue light at their circumference that shuts down when I turn the device off.”

“As for the cameras…” she drones on, “The blinking red light should be gone when they’re offline.”

“That shit won’t do,” Bakugou declares decisively, not even letting the suggestion simmer. “There’s no knowing for sure that they’re actually off and aren’t just hacked to seem like they are.”

“The cameras should also face down. And—” he huffs, “—We get to remove the tracker.”

A chorus of protests erupts from the group—particularly from Sayaka and Kouki—but even the twins who are still stationed at the sides. Masaki, in contrast, only sits in silence as he studies the pro-hero, but there’s no missing the uneasiness decorating his features.

“It’s only at night,” Bakugou reasons, voice now a bit louder to be heard amidst the sea of complaints. “You can set up guards around the perimeters of our room. We’ll surrender them at the door before entering, and we can’t go out beyond the doorway until they’re attached again.”

And when no one says anything, Bakugou pushes. “How does that sound?”

You chance a glance at Masaki, who does not seem to be getting anywhere near convinced.

Bakugou must be noticing it, too, because he squeezes your hand so imperceptibly that you almost miss it.

But you don’t, and quite honestly, you could have and be okay with having done so, because you were on it, anyway.

You quickly scan the room.

One, two, three, four, five.

Five.

You can do five.

And so with the most innocent tone you can muster, you speak up.

“That sounds reasonable to me.”

All five whip to look at you, and the second that they do, you pull—swiftly and in succession—eyes jumping from Sayaka to Kouki to Masaki to the male twin and then to the girl.

Your gaze darts back to the leader right after to make sure you got him, but his remarkably serene countenance is enough to tell you that you’ve successfully done it.

You did it.

You just won Bakugou and you the window of time to discuss the mission in the privacy of your own room.

And Bakugou must be seeing the palpable shift in their demeanors because he squeezes your hand once more, only this time you think it’s in gratitude.

You feel a surge of pride swell in your chest.

Let the games begin.

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 feel free to drop an ask, too—i'd love to chat with you. have a nice day

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stargirllanaa · 16 hours ago

Text

Death Grips. III - R.C

Dark!Frat!Rafe Cameron x f!reader

Warnings: Dv( physical abuse),NONCON, Mentions of Dv, Cheating, mentions of cheating, abusive relationship, gaslighting, manipulation, frat!rafe, blackmail, emotional abuse, underage drinking, he’s an asshole guys

Summary: inspired by ‘death grips’ by Etta Marcus/ After a messy break up with Rafe Cameron your freshman year of college, he can’t seem to leave you alone. Whether you’re awake or asleep

Series Masterlist

A/n: hey guys, I just got back from out of the country so this took me a little longer than I wanted it to but hope u enjoy and pls leave feedback and lmk how u like it whether it’s an anonymous ask, reblog or comment I do read all feedback and try to incorporate what you guys suggest!

Part: III

…….

The beach was alive with noise and chaos. Voices carried across the sand, blending with the pounding of the waves and the crackle of the bonfire. The night should have felt carefree and fun even, but as soon as you saw Rafe leaning against a log near the fire, his easy laugh cutting through the hum of the crowd, it was like every muscle in your body locked up.

You froze, but Mia nudged you forward, oblivious—or maybe just willfully blind. “Come on,” she said with a grin, already scanning the crowd for Topper. “He’s not going to do anything. Just stick with me.”

You didn’t respond. Your eyes stayed locked on Rafe as he glanced up and noticed you. His reaction was immediate—his laugh froze mid-sound, his blue eyes narrowing just slightly before he recovered. He raised his beer in a lazy toast, smirking in your direction.

Mia didn’t notice. “See? He’s being chill. You’re fine,” she said breezily, dragging you toward the fire.

But you didn’t feel fine.

At first, you stayed on the outskirts, keeping your distance and nursing the drink someone shoved into your hand. You told yourself you were just being paranoid, that Rafe wasn’t paying any attention to you. But it was impossible to shake the feeling of his eyes brushing over you whenever you moved too close to the firelight.

It wasn’t long before he was beside you.

“Hey,” he said, his voice casual, almost soft.

You didn’t look at him. “What do you want?”

“I’m not trying to bother you,” he said quickly, hands raised as if to show he meant no harm. “I just—look, I wanted to say I’m sorry. For everything.”

You stiffened. “What?”

“I mean it,” Rafe said, his voice dropping. “I know I messed up. I’ve been… I don’t know. Trying to figure my shit out.” He took a step closer, his gaze steady. “I just want us to be cool. That’s all.”

“Cool,” you repeated flatly. “Right. Sure.”

You wanted to walk away, to shut him down and make it clear he wasn’t welcome. But something in his tone—his softness, his willingness to admit fault made you hesitate. It wasn’t like him.

“I mean it,” he said again, holding your gaze. “You don’t have to forgive me, but I don’t want things to be like this. It doesn’t have to be so… heavy.”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t trust him. He’d proven that over and over. But he didn’t press. He just lingered, staying close but not too close, offering you drinks every time your cup got low.

You didn’t realize how much you’d had to drink until you were laughing at something—God knows what—with a girl you barely knew. The firelight blurred, the edges of the world softening as the alcohol worked its way through your system.

Rafe wasn’t far, leaning against a log a few feet away, his eyes on you.

“You’re finally relaxing,” he said, his voice light as he moved closer.

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t make it weird.”

He smirked, holding his hands up in surrender. “Not trying to. Just saying it’s nice to see you like this. You’re always so tense around me.”

“Damn, I wonder why,” you shot back, though your words were starting to slur.

He laughed, low and warm. “Fair point.”

Before you could respond, he tilted his head toward the darker stretch of beach beyond the fire. “Let’s go for a walk. Too loud here.”

“No thanks,” you said immediately, shaking your head.

“Come on,” he pressed, his tone light but insistent. “I’m not gonna hurt you. I just want to talk. No bullshit, I promise.”

You hesitated. Part of you screamed to stay by the fire, to not let him pull you away from the safety of the crowd. But the alcohol muffled your thoughts, loosening your grip on the fear that always kept you guarded around him.

Against your better judgment, you nodded.

The sound of the party faded as you walked, the waves swallowing the noise until it was just the two of you under the moonlight. You stumbled slightly, the uneven sand throwing you off balance, but Rafe’s hand steadied you.

“Careful,” he murmured, his voice closer than you realized.

“I’m fine,” you muttered, shrugging off his hand.

He didn’t let go immediately, his fingers lingering on your arm for a moment too long before he finally stepped back.

When you stopped walking, he turned to face you, his expression unreadable.

“I miss you,” he said softly.

You blinked, the words not quite registering at first. “What?”

“I miss us,” he said, his voice low and almost vulnerable. “I know I screwed up. I know I hurt you. But I want to fix it.”

You stared at him, the alcohol dulling your initial burst of anger. “Are you serious?”

“I’m not asking you to forget everything,” he said quickly. “I just—I want another chance. I can be better. I know I can.”

You laughed, sharp and bitter. “Another chance? Are you insane?”

“I’m serious,” he said, stepping closer. “I’ve been working on myself. I’ve been trying—”

“You’re fucking delusional,” you snapped, cutting him off. The alcohol loosened the words, pulling them out of you before you could stop. “You cheated on me. You hit me. You made me feel like I was nothing. And now you want me to just… what? Forget all of that and give you another chance?”

Rafe flinched, the softness in his expression hardening into something sharper. “I was messed up back then. I didn’t know how to—”

“No,” you said, your voice shaking with anger. “You knew exactly what you were doing. You always knew. And you loved it.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t have a part in it,” he said, his voice rising. “You knew how to push my buttons. You knew how to make me lose my shit.”

You took a step back, your body trembling. “You’re disgusting.”

The silence between you stretched, heavy and suffocating. For a moment, you thought he might lash out, that he’d grab your arm or raise his voice. But instead, he smiled—cold and sharp, the boyish charm replaced by something cruel.

“You’re drunk,” he said simply, stepping closer. “I’ll give you a pass. But you’re not over me. You never will be.”

You turned and walked away, the sound of his laughter following you as you stumbled back toward the fire. You didn’t care if you looked unsteady or ridiculous; all you cared about was putting as much distance between you and him as possible.

When you reached the edge of the crowd, Mia was nowhere to be seen. Your stomach twisted, a fresh wave of anger rising as you realized she’d probably disappeared with Topper again, leaving you to fend for yourself.

Your hands shook as you grabbed your bag, your breaths coming in uneven gasps. You didn’t look back toward the dark stretch of beach where Rafe still stood, watching you.

~~~~~~

You slammed the door of your dorm shut, the sound echoing through the small space. Your clothes still smelled faintly of bonfire smoke, your hair damp from the salt air, but none of that mattered. The only thing you could focus on was the lingering sensation of Rafe’s smirk, his words still ringing in your ears.

“You’re not over me. You never will be.”

The audacity made your stomach churn, and as you tossed your bag onto your bed, you couldn’t stop your hands from trembling. You needed to talk to someone to make sense of everything that had happened at the beach. But when Mia walked through the door minutes later, her laughter bubbling over as she scrolled through her phone, something inside you snapped.

She looked up, startled. “Whoa. What’s with the death glare?”

“Where the hell were you?” you snapped, unable to hold it anymore.

The smile on her face faded instantly. “What?”

“At the beach,” you said, your voice shaking. “You said we’d stick together, that you wouldn’t leave me alone, and then you disappeared with Topper like it was nothing.”

Mia’s brow furrowed, her confusion quickly morphing into defensiveness. “Hold on, what happened? Did Rafe—”

“What do you think happened?” you snapped, cutting her off. “He cornered me, got me drunk, and then tried to tell me he wants me back. And you weren’t there, Mia. You left me alone with him.”

She blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Okay, but nothing actually happened, right? I mean, you’re here, you’re fine—”

“Fine?” The word came out sharp, almost bitter. “Are you kidding me? You know what he’s like, Mia. You know how much he’s put me through, and you still dragged me there like it didn’t matter. You’re literally fucking his best friend.”

Her mouth opened, then closed, like she wasn’t sure how to respond. “It’s not like that,” she said finally. “Topper’s not Rafe, and I thought—”

“You thought what?” you interrupted, your voice rising. “That I’d just magically be okay? That I’d be fine hanging out with my abusive ex at a party while you played house with his best friend?”

“Abusive?” she repeated, her eyes widening slightly.

You froze, realizing the word had slipped out before you could stop it. But there was no taking it back now. “Yeah,” you said, your voice quieter now. “He was abusive, Mia. And you still keep putting me in situations where I have to see him. Do you even care how that feels for me?”

Her expression shifted, guilt flickering across her face before she crossed her arms defensively. “Of course, I care,” she said. “But it’s not like I’m dragging you into this on purpose. I mean, what am I supposed to do? Ghost Topper because you and Rafe had a shitty relationship?”

The words hit you like a slap, your anger twisting into something deeper—something closer to hurt. “I’m not asking you to break things off with him,” you said, your voice trembling. “I’m asking you to have some fucking empathy. You’re supposed to be my friend, Mia.”

“I am your friend,” she shot back. “But maybe you need to stop blaming me for everything. I didn’t make you date him, and I didn’t make you stay with him when things got bad. That was your choice.”

You flinched, the accusation cutting deeper than you expected. For a second, you thought about yelling, about telling her to leave and never come back. But instead, you turned away, your chest tight with something between anger and sadness.

“Just… go, Mia,” you said quietly. “I can’t do this right now.”

She hesitated, her arms still crossed. “Fine,” she said after a moment, her voice tight. “But don’t expect me to keep putting up with this shit forever.”

The door clicked shut behind her, leaving you alone in the silence of the room.

~~~~~

You were sitting on your bed, the faint glow of your desk lamp casting long shadows across the walls. The air felt heavy, the silence broken only by the sound of Rafe pacing in front of you.

“Let me see your phone,” he said, his voice low and clipped.

You froze, clutching the device tighter. “Why?”

“Because,” he snapped, facing you with a sharp glare. “I saw Bella texting you earlier. What did she say?”

“Nothing important,” you said quickly, your stomach twisting.

He didn’t believe you. “Show me.”

You hesitated, your fingers trembling as you unlocked your phone and handed it over. He snatched it from your grasp, scrolling through your messages with a storm brewing in his eyes.

His jaw clenched as he stopped on Bella’s most recent text:

“r u ok? im rlly worried about u and rafe. u don’t have to stay with him yk. u deserve sm better. <3”

“Worried about us?” Rafe said, his voice dripping with mockery. “What’s she so worried about, huh? Did you tell her we had a fight? That’s cute.”

“I didn’t tell her anything,” you said quickly, your chest tightening. “She’s just… she’s just being a good friend.”

“She’s not your friend,” he said sharply, tossing the phone onto the bed. “She’s trying to break us up. You think I’m stupid? You think I don’t see what’s going on?”

“She’s not trying to break us up,” you insisted, your voice trembling. “She’s just—”

“Shut up,” he interrupted, his tone cold and final. “You’re done talking to her. Do you hear me? You’re going to block her, and you’re not going to say another word to her. She’s gone.”

“No,” you said quietly, your voice barely audible. “You’ve already made me cut off everyone else. Bella’s the only friend I have left.”

“You still have me... you have Mia,” Rafe said, stepping closer, his shadow looming over you. “That should be enough for you. You don’t need anyone else.”

Tears welled in your eyes, but you didn’t let them fall. “This isn’t protection, Rafe. This is fucking control-”

The words barely left your mouth before his hand slammed against the wall beside your head, making you flinch.

“What did you just say?” he demanded, his voice dangerously low.

You didn’t answer.

~~~~~~~~

You woke with a gasp, your heart pounding as you sat up in bed. The room was dark, the faint glow of your phone the only source of light. For a moment, you couldn’t breathe, the weight of the dream pressing down on your chest.

Even now, after everything, he still had a hold on you.

~~~~~~~~

It was late when you found yourself outside, the cool night air brushing against your skin. You hadn’t meant to leave the dorm, but sitting in that room, surrounded by memories and silence, felt unbearable.

You ended up at the campus library steps, the faint glow of streetlights casting long shadows across the pavement. It was quiet and peaceful in a way that almost felt foreign.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

You turned, startled, to see Cam leaning against the railing, a book in one hand and a thermos in the other. His smile was easy, and his presence grounding, making you feel like you could finally take a breath.

“Something like that,” you admitted, sitting down beside him.

He didn’t press or ask why your eyes were rimmed with exhaustion or why you were out so late. Instead, he offered you the thermos, the warmth of it seeping into your palms as you held it.

“I saw you at the beach,” he said after a moment, his tone careful.

You stiffened but didn’t look at him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He hesitated. “You okay?”

You thought about lying, about brushing it off like you always did. But the words slipped out before you could stop them.

“No.”

He nodded like he’d expected that, his gaze steady as he looked at you. “If you ever want to talk…”

“I don’t,” you said quickly, cutting him off. Then, softer: “Not yet.”

“That’s fine,” he said easily, leaning back against the steps. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You didn’t respond, but for the first time in what felt like forever, the silence didn’t feel so heavy.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

Enjoyed my fic? Leave feedback! Comment/reblog!

Wanna see more? Check out my fic ‘i don’t smoke’

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letmerideitchris · 2 days ago

Text

𐬺𝐕𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐𐬺

summary: Chris matt and nick get a new videographer, she is funny, smart and pretty, basically everything Chris could ever want in a girl. Chris finds it impossible to not fall for her…

Warnings: angst, yelling, cursing, mentions of killing (in a joking way)

Wc: 1009

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏

“Chris would you like to tell us what the fuck we just walked in on?” matt says sternly

Y/n had previously left the house out of embarrassment to what nick and matt had walked into.

“does anyone know where some bleach is? My eyes need some” nick says looking around

“guys you're being dramatic, I'm sorry i couldn’t resist, she’s everything i have ever wanted” chris says as he looks down at the floor

“that is the least of our problems right now, shes meant to be coming over tomorrow to film a vlog for us, that is going to be so awkward thanks to you dick face” nick says hitting chris’ shoulder

“yeah chris, you need to sort it out and apologize because you are runing it for us”

“but I'm not sorry and i am quite looking forward to seeing her tomorrow even though it will be awkward…” Chris says slightly smiling at the thought of her

“im not sure if shes looking forward to seeing you, she just ran away” matt says looking at the open front door y/n previously left through.

“chris you make me want to kill you, is it hard being this dumb?”

“guys can you show some sort of sympathy? Like imagine the girl of your dreams is actually interested in you and then your brothers walk in on you fucking and she runs out of embarrassment?” chris says

“No i actually cannot imagine that i am gay if you forgot dumb shit” nick says in a duh tone

“you guys are ridiculous” chris mumbles annoyed as he makes his way downstairs to his bedroom.

The next morning chris is laying in bed half asleep, wishing she was beside him. But hes quickly taken out of his trance when he hears the doorbell, the sound he was dreading yesterday but wishing upon now.

“i’ll get it!” matt yells from upstairs

But when he turns to the door chris is already unlocking it

Nick is sitting on the couch with an unamused face, when matt looks over at him “look at this desperate dickhead”

“hes never gonna learn, fuck sake” nick eyerolls

When chris opens the door, y/n is taken aback by his face. y/n looks down at the floor and says quietly “oh… hi chris”

chris’ smile quickly fades as he hears her tone and realizes his excitement isn't mutual.

“hi y/n, come upstairs, can I get you a water or?-”

“uh no i should be good..thanks..”

Chris takes a seat on the couch wondering why y/n is acting so weird towards him. What did he do wrong? Did he say something bad?

The boys all give y/n a hug greeting her, besides chris.

“matt would you mind getting me some water? I’m really thirsty?” y/n says looking at matt

Chris looks over at her with a confused look across his face

“yeah of course, nick can you come with me, i think these two need to talk it out..” matt lowers his tone at the end so only nick can hear his last comment

Chris and y/n are both sitting on opposite sides of the couch looking at each other waiting for one to speak up.

“y/n, whats wrong?” chris speaks up

“have a think chris, have a think.”

Chris is using all of his brain and is trying to peice together what could be wrong. And then something clicks in his mind and realizes what has happened. He looks up with a concerned look on his face

“is this about yesterday, y/n? If it is im really sor-”

y/n cuts him off “chris do you not realize what we did and how this will affect our relationship and my job”

Chris is shocked by what she said “wait so your saying you regret what we did? I-I really thought we had something, something that would last, something you would care about” he says as he raises his voice and stands up angrily from the couch.

“no i don't regret it, that's not what I'm saying. I just think we should've been more careful or waited a bit longer” y/n says avoiding eye contact

“so you do regret it huh?” he starts to walk off then she grabs him by the arm

“no, chris just calm down i am not done-”

“well i sure am, get out of my house please”

y/n opens her purse quxckly, chris is standing there waiting for something that could save this relationship but instead it is something that will change their lives forever.

y/n slides a positive pregnancy test along the coffee table.

“as i was saying, we should've been more careful, should've waited longer, not saying i regret it.” she says shaking with tears forming on her waterline

She closes her purse, gets up, looks into the kitchen to see matt and nick both staring in such a state of shock. Tears start rolling down her face as she looks back at chris’ guilty and worried face. She wipes her tears and continues to leave.

The door slams

“i could choke you to death right now chris, not much is stopping me” nick says furiously as he follows y/n out of the house

Chris is still standing there in disbelief staring at that positive test.

“chris, ill get you some water, all you can do right now is sit down and try and relax yourself. Don't text anyone and don't listen to what nick is saying even though he is right, i know you would be really stressed right now and nothing he has to say will help.” matt says patting chris on the back gently

chris sits down on the couch shaking with tears falling down his face onto his pants, he can't seem to look away from the test. Regret and guilt clouds his mind and all he is thinking about is y/n.

“m-matt” chris stutters, matt turns back around to face chris, you can tell even matt is stressed out

“i, i am going to be a d - dad”

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @riggysworld @chrissturnsss @sophand4n4

@chrispycremedonut

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo fandom #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo fluff #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo edit #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #sturniolos #the sturniolo triplets

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allthesemechanismsbutnocoping · 24 hours ago

Note

Von Raum opened his mouth, but very quickly decided it wasn't worth the argument. They were both pretty sore when it came to emotions at the moment. Von Raum still had half a mind to shoot Jonny for shooting Edda, whether it was what they wanted or not. He just kept moving, though, keeping his head down and doing his best to.. not think about Lyf. He hoped they were okay. He hoped... Gods, he hoped they weren't dead.

"Ah, well," Jonny said, looking around. "Alleyway is over there. We can take a quick break, but I'd rather us not be exposed for too long. I've already got about three warrants out for my arrest, probably."

Tim hummed, helping Marius on to the ground since there was nowhere else to sit. "I've got two, I think. Date night last week got pretty crazy."

"An understatement," Jonny said, snorting and sitting down as well.

As carefully as he could, Von Raum put Edda down, sitting down, and putting their head in his lap. Their eyes were still open and devoid of life. Von Raum tried not to think about it. He peeked out of the alley. "TS, keep watch," he ordered, seeing it nod and step out to watch out for anything or anyone.

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

How long had it been? Days? Weeks? Maybe longer. Edda stared at the screens, feeling like they were going mad. How much longer until something would change? Until something happened that diverted from how it went before? Was it an endurance test? Was it Hel? Purgatory? Had Edda finally died for good?

Would they be stuck there forever?

No. No, that wasn't it. Yog-Sothoth was toying with them. They stood up and looked around the lobby, seeing people were staring at them. Like they just broke a sacred rule. Taking a breath, Edda moved from where they stood behind their desk and looked around the Institute, going just about anywhere that was open until they felt a pull. The Archives door was wide open, beckoning them forward.

Clenching their jaw, they heard the voices around them whisper. 'Don't go,' they said, trying to hold them back. 'Stay here. Stay forever.'

"I can't," Edda said with conviction. Until a hand gripped their throat and yanked them back. The voices were no longer whispers and those hands burned. 'Stay with us!' they commanded and Edda pushed on, screaming as their skin caught fire.

The moment they crossed the threshold, they slammed the door shut and stood there, gasping in pain and for air, in the dark.

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

"Woah," Tim commented, seeing marks appear around Edda's neck. They looked like burns. "Uh... Shit."

Von Raum stared with wide eyes. What the fuck was happening?

https://www.tumblr.com/doctorbarontsct/765335072373178368/when-marius-sees-the-flash-of-rainbow-hair-out-of?source=share

"Someone took away your Jonny's harmonics privileges. They can't figure out where I keep finding mine, so they can't take away mine," Jonny said as he played on.

"Jonny," Brian said finally. "Cut the shit before I tell Raphaella to take your brain out and put you in a jar until it grows back. Again. Marius is very obviously not well, and you're picking a fight with him. Please, love." He sighed, looking over Marius once again. "Okay. So, it's been a few weeks since you could last move your arm. This slug is likely what's preventing you from being able to move it, and we don't want to do anything until we have somewhere to safely put it."

Tim hummed. "Jar could work. I'm just saying we should think about putting in the jar."

"You just want to give it to Raphaella so she stops pouting her science projects dying," Jonny grumbled.

Tim just smiled. "Is that so wrong?"

[ @allthesemechanismsbutnocoping ]

"That's about it, I think?" Marius said. He willfully doesn't think about the amount of food he's had over the last few weeks. Or sleep. Or the toe thing, or the mines, or the fact that his other arm is still not working, or the number of things he didn't even mention on Tumblr because he thought this universe's Lyf would have a heart attack.

It's not like that lightning strike did any permanent damage anyway.

"But yeah, somewhere to put it safely, and we're sure taking it out won't make things worse," he added, because that seemed like a very important point he'd made, and he didn't want anyone forgetting that one.

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rebelliousstories · 3 days ago

Text

A Thief and An X-Man

Relationship: Remy LeBeau/Gambit x Reader

Fandom: X-Men

Request: Yes by Anon

Warnings: Fluff

Word Count: 2,738

Main Masterlist: Here

X-Men Masterlist: Here

Summary: Southern charm is a thing. Something that Remy LeBeau has taken advantage of over the years. All it took was one little X-Man to throw him off his rhythm apparently…

How everyone found themselves in their own current predicament, only the universe knows. The tomfoolery that had followed them during their journey was like something straight out of a superhero book.

Remy panted and hugged his side as he rested against the brick wall behind him. His partner in crime, albeit a reluctant one, mirrored his actions against the other wall of the alleyway. She was glaring hard in between her pants in an attempt to catch her breath.

“You just couldn’t help yourself, could you Cajun?” There were shouts and the pounding of footsteps getting closer and closer.

“What can I say, chere? I like pretty things.” The weight of the jewels in his pocket weighed down under her gaze.

“We’re being chased because you couldn’t keep your greedy little hands off of stuff that doesn’t belong to you!” Her words were almost drowned completely out by the pounding of footsteps.

Making a split second decision, Remy grabbed her hand and began to haul the woman towards a fire escape that was already pulled down. She was confused, but faced with the possibility of the men that were chasing them catching up? She would take the fire escape with the thief. As soon as they had made it up onto the roof of whatever building this was, Remy leaned over the edge to get a look at their personal mob that now ran by the building and alleyway they had disappeared into. With a smirk, he laid down on the cool tiles below.

“We safe now,” she questioned, almost ready to run again.

“I wouldn’t be layin’ down if we weren’t. Now would I, chere?” His eyes slipped closed as he relaxed as much as he could.

“Oh, of course. Because I should be trusting the person who got us into this mess, to be honest and truthful when he is a known Thief, to get us out of this mess. Wolverine needs to come and extract me right now.” Her grumbling was followed by the sound of her trying to use her transponder. With a frustrated groan, it clattered to the ground when it would not work.

For three days, she had been stuck in Louisiana with the leader of the Thieves Guild. A mission that she had been sent on alone to help the X-Men get a relic that needed to be kept out of the wrong hands. Had they been able to do it solo, they would have. But the Thieves were the only people who had made it to where they needed her to go, and made it back out. Thus, an unlikely alliance was made. And from that point forward, she had been subjected to the rugged charms of the one they call Gambit.

From the second she walked up to him, she had been the focus of his flirtations. Maybe it was the fact that she was a new pretty face for him. Or maybe it was that fact that she was “forbidden fruit” being an X-Man. Whatever it was, for the past three weeks, she had been subject to every one liner and flirty comment.

In all honesty, she did not mind the banter that they usually had. It was better than being with someone that did not talk much, like a certain X-Man she knew. But it was annoying once he got into a flirtatious mood.

“Ooo, chere. Did it hurt when ya fell from heaven? You look so angelic.”

“Shut up, Cajun.”

“Here, let Gambit take care o’ dat for ya. Ain’t no reason to sweat your pretty brow.”

“If Gambit don’t give me back my tools, I’m not gonna sweat my brow over putting him down.”

It was like this for three days. Any chance he got, he took. She could see that he was just doing it to get a rise out of her, since she refused to be another notch on his belt. Even though some times, she could almost swear there was something genuine about the affectionate quips he made. A sharp bark pulled her from her thoughts and brought her attention to the transponder that was still down by her feet. Careful not to step on it, she opened it to be met with the authoritative voice of a certain Canadian calling her name.

“Where have you been? You were supposed to check in an hour ago, bub.” He was upset, that was for sure. But after all these years, she could hear through the layers to his tone and knew it was just because he cared for his team like his own family.

“Wolverine, I’m fine. We ran into a snag but we should be getting back on track soon. The communicator wouldn’t work earlier or I would have checked in at the appropriate time,” came her retort. A groan trailed into a sigh on the other end of the line.

“Just be safe, kid. Let me know when you get the relic. We’ll be waiting to extract you when you need it.” His voice lowered in volume, and his tone shifted.

“Will do, Wolvie. Just gotta get this Cajun to actually get me to the place, then we’ll be on our way home.” With that, the two X-Men signed off from each other. She sat there for a moment longer as she began to rub her temples. The evening breeze was welcome against her flushed face.

“So you and da Wolverine, huh?” Gambit’s sudden ask brought her out of her head quick.

“What? Me and him? No, god no. We just work well together. He’s the one that got me into the school. Got me into the X-Men,” she stood, and looked around the night sky that was sprinkled with lights. “You gonna take me where I need to go, or do I need to find another thief to do it?”

“Oh, you wound me, chere. Suppose if ya did that, I could call another X-Man to grab the item with me instead.” He teased, finally rising to his feet.

With fluid movements, like that of a skilled ballet dancer, Remy looked towards the streets again. The mutant dubbed them safe enough, and began his descent down the same fire escape that he had them go up on. She followed after him, always maintaining a bit of distance between them as they went closer and closer to where they needed to go.

A well lit mansion greeted the two mutants after a while. This was the house that she had been searching for. She was finally here. Once again, she followed Gambit’s lead. After all, he and his guild made it out of here before with their pockets loaded. They could do it one more time.

Gambit caused a minor explosion on one of the windows in the back of the building making her flinch as she expected the commotion to begin. And yet, there was nothing. No alarms, no dogs barking or humans shouting. He turned back to the stunned woman with nothing short of a pompous smirk on, before he climbed through the window. She took his hand to help stabilize her while she was slipping through the opening.

They had ended up in the west wing of the mansion, only a few doors down from the room that they needed to go to. She had no time to be stunned at how efficient this mutant was seeing as he was already grabbing her hand to pull her through the house. Their journey was cut short when they spotted guards walking towards them in the hallway. Remy tucked them both against a wall that was out of sight, but knew they did not have long. Scanning around, he did not see a spare room or broom closet. He tried not to show the panic on his face, but he could feel his heart speeding up.

“They not supposed to be here, chere. We gotta go back out.” But when he tried to leave, the sounds of quiet conversation and boots on the hardwood floor were far too close now.

“Go with me,” was all the warning that the Cajun was given. In an instant, she made him press her against the wall. What he did not expect even more than that, was the fact that she had him engaged in a full lip lock. Stunned did not even begin to describe what he was feeling. Here this woman was, kissing him voluntarily, after spending the last three days shutting him down at every chance.

Losing himself in the moment that he wished would never end, Remy kept one of his hands on the wall near her head, while the other went to the dip of her waist. Her hands came up and pressed him even closer by the nape of his neck. This was a dream. A wonderful, beautiful dream that he did not want to wake from. Unfortunately, that was not in the cards for him. Right as he was truly enjoying the moment, a wolf whistle caught his attention. But she did not let him turn around. Instead, she pressed his face into her neck while she shouted at the guards that had finally rounded the corner.

“Cad é? Cad atá tú ag féachaint air?” Now that was a language Remy had never heard spoken. His confused face was stuck in the crook of her neck, while he felt her shooing the men away. Apparently, they were just as confused as he was, but left without complaint. As soon as they were away from the par of mutants, she pushed Remy back a bit.

“Now, where in da world is dat language from, chere? Gambit ain’t never heard nothin’ like it in his whole life.” He was a bit out of breath but it was understandable.

“I used to go visit my grandmother in Ireland when I was a kid. She made me fluent in Gaelic.” She was just as out of breath as him, but neither called attention as to the reason why.

They both sat there for a moment, not moving from their spots where they were oh so close to one another. This was the closest they had been physically the entire time they had been working together. And it was breaking down barriers that had been put in place for their own sanity and safety.

“Let’s get going before someone else catches us and we can’t get out of it as easily,” she stated breathily. For her own sake, she needed to do something, and soon before she could not stop herself. Remy nodded to himself, to confirm that he had heard her or to shake himself out of his own stupor, who knows. But soon, they were back on track with him grabbing her hand and leading them to the room once more.

Gambit made quick work of picking the lock, and then they were inside. Encased in glass was a small pendant and necklace. Unassuming at first, but they knew better. This one little artifact was responsible for so much suffering around the world, and more of it if they did not get it out of non-mutant hands. Remy approached the glass case and looked for a way to get it open without disturbing it too much. But the sound of glass shattering spooked him, made him jump back from the shards.

“You were taking too long.” She shrugged, turning back to look at the pendant. Pulling out her own case for the necklace, she tried very hard not to touch the jewel in the center. Once it was secured, Remy did another look out to make sure that the coast was clear.

“Let’s get going, chere. Don’t want no unwelcome guests taggin’ along now.” The two mutants slipped out the same way that they entered. It was such a shock for her, not having any hangups during a mission. Usually it was every chance the universe got to make something go wrong, it did. So to have one go this smoothly was a welcomed change of pace.

They fled into the night before them, and did not look back until they were safe in the heart of New Orleans once more. Lights, music, and conversation drowned out any and all thoughts they had for just a minute or two. Instead of going somewhere quiet and out of the way, Gambit ended up leading them further not the heart of the city to a late night cafe.

As soon as they sat down, he ordered something for them both to eat and drink, but she was not paying any attention to him. Instead, she was trying to figure out how she was going to discreetly call her team back at the mansion to go home. For some reason though, it was not working right now.

“This thing has been finicky the entire time I’ve been here. Doesn’t know whether or not it wants to work when I need it to.” She lamented, tossing the item down onto the table before them.

“So, now that you got whatcha came here for, just gonna head home? Like that?” There was a mournful tone to his voice that did not miss her ears. Neither one needed to say exactly why he sounded so upset at her leaving, or rather neither wanted to acknowledge why he was upset.

“Well, there’s always someone else that needs saving. Or a disaster that needs to be avoided,” she said, watching his face carefully.

“Right, right…” he trailed off, not quite knowing where to take it from here. Thankfully, a waitress came by with two bowls, and two drinks for them to enjoy.

“What on earth did you order for me?” Poking her spoon around in the stew like dish in front of her, she arched an eyebrow and looked at the Cajun.

“Dat right der is what we call gumbo, chere. It’s real good. Gotta use dat piece o’ baguette at the end though.” When she still did not eat, he tried a different tactic. “Come on. Humor me before ya head on home, chere?”

If you ever asked her, she would vehemently deny that she had given in to the soft way he pleaded with her. Bringing the spoonful of hot stew and rice to her lips, a symphony of flavors erupted on her tongue. It was unlike anything she had ever eaten. The chicken, sausage and shrimp were so tender and perfectly cooked. The veggies melted, and the rice was the perfect binder.

While she was busy devouring her food, Remy was taking that time to lock in on her joyful face. If this was going to be the last time he saw her, he was going to make it count. But his day dreaming was interrupted by the transponder on the table suddenly jumping to life. As fast as she could, she set down her spoon, wiped her face, and grabbed the item.

“Wolverine,” she began, “listen, I got the necklace. Ready when you are on the extraction.”

Her eyes drifted over to the man in front of her who was trying very hard not to eavesdrop on the conversation happening two feet away from him. The long she listened to Wolverine talk, and watched Remy’s face, the more her heart moaned in pain. It was an unusual feeling to have, especially for someone that she swore she did not get along with or that she had not known for too long.

“Kid, we’ll be there in a couple hours, okay? We’re gonna track you by your communicator and then we’ll-”

“Actually, Wolvie,” she cut the man off, “I think I’m gonna stick around New Orleans for a few days. Just to make sure that nobody comes looking for this thing. I’ll let you know when it’s safe to come home.”

The transponder was shut off fast, and tucked into one of the pockets of her uniform. When she looked up again, the startled face of Gambit greeted her. His eyes were wider than the bowls they were eating out of, but she paid it no mind. Picking up her spoon again, she sent a teasing smirk across the table.

“Hope you don’t mind that I’ll be sticking around a little more.” She brought another spoonful of gumbo to her mouth while Gambit took a minute to recover.

“Not at all, chere. Not at all.”

#rebelliousstories #writing #wolverine and the x men #watxm #watxm gambit #remy lebeau imagine #remy lebeau #remy lebeau x reader #gambit x reader #gambit imagine #gambit #xmen imagine #x men 97 #x men comics #x men movies #x men imagine #x men #deadpool and wolverine

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waiting-for-motivation · 6 hours ago

Text

dark red

summary: No matter what, Max loves and supports his girlfriend like a golden retriever would love a black cat.

pairing: Max Verstappen x Goth!Reader

warnings: the sweetest and purest fluff

words: 1022

a/n: daniel will always be part of my formula one fics :) also big thank you to my lovely muse @graveyardcannibal <33

MASTERLIST REQUEST RULES

The thing Max enjoys the most is staring at his beautiful girlfriend. No matter the time of the day, the light always seems to hit her at just the right angle. She could wear a trash bag and still look gorgeous in his eyes. Max really fell head over heels for her.

So it does not surprise (Y/n) at all to see his reflection in the mirror in front of her. He watches her precisely draw her eyeliner. Concentrating on the black lines is hard, when his blue eyes notice even her smallest movement.

“Get a hobby, creep“, she comments with a sarcastic undertone, still looking over her shoulder with a smile on her lips. While Max is already dressed, she still has to finish her make-up and put on the outfit, her boyfriend helped her pick out. Sometimes (Y/n) feels bad for him, keeping him waiting for her, but then she remembers how much he likes to gaze at her.

Max can only laugh at her words, leaning forward to take a closer look at all the brushes, powders and pencils. Although he watches his girl use them on a regular basis he has no clue what they are specifically for. Though one he knows: her dark red lipstick, which she is reaching for right now.

“No, wait before you put that on“, Max almost screams, caught off guard by his own forwardness. With a confused expression, (Y/n) turns towards her boyfriend, the lipstick in her right hand. The moment she opens her mouth to ask what has gotten into him, Max presses his lips to hers. This is explanation enough.

“You smooth bastard!“, (Y/n) exclaims after they part, keeping the intense eye contact with Max. He shows her a cheeky smile, then nods towards the mirror, encouraging her to finish her make-up. The lipstick is the final part. Max watches in awe as (Y/n) places a napkin between her lips to matten the dark color.

Then she turns towards her outfit that lies on the neatly made bed, right next to her boyfriend. (Y/n) gets dressed, so focused she does not notice Max standing up and cleaning up her make-up tools.

“You don‘t have to do that“, she murmurs as she turns around and catches Max inspecting her brushes. Shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly, Max zips up her full cosmetic bag. He simply loves doing everything in his power for her, from smaller tasks to presenting her yet another corset.

"Need any help, schatje?", Max asks, setting the bag aside and reaching for his girl who is struggling to lace up her newest corset. With a huff, (Y/n) turns her back to him so that he can easily tighten the corset, careful not to strangulate her. After tying a bow, Max wraps his arms around his girl and starts kissing a trail from her ear to the collar of her shirt. One of her hands wanders to his fluffy golden hair.

"Don't start what you can't finish, Verstappen", (Y/n) warns her boyfriend, reminding him of today’s qualifying race and the job he has to do. At least, she will be with him on the paddock. For her, it will be the first time there, so she is rather excited and a bit anxious.

Together they leave their hotel room and drive to the racetrack. Again and again, Max throws a glance towards his girl on the passenger seat, actually so often that (Y/n) has to remind him to keep his eyes on the street. They quickly arrive and manage to get into the Red Bull garage without much attention from cameras or reporters.

"Remember you can always go into my driver room if it gets too much. I will find you as soon as possible afterward. Have some fun, schatje", Max tells (Y/n) with a concerned expression, even more nervous about her first day on the paddock than her. Her smile comfort his nerves, the sweet kiss following tells him she will be fine. Then he leaves to do some media stuff with his teammate.

Although the last few days, all (Y/n) could overthink about where the worst scenarios that could happen, the next few hours without Max are rather pleasant. Knowing a few of the drivers already because Max invited them to his home in Monaco, she has no problem in finding someone to talk to. Daniel is very delighted to see her, pulling her into a warm hug and forcing her to do a twirl for him, showing off her black outfit. She even meets some other girlfriends, which mostly compliment her on her make-up.

Before the qualifying race starts, someone from Red Bull escorts her back to the garage, claiming Max wants to see her before the start. There is a whole crowd of mechanics and strategists around him, so (Y/n) waits till he notices her, meanwhile touching up her lipstick.

Max is already sitting in his car, when he waves (Y/n) over with a bright smile. Someone presses his helmet into her hands which she gives to her boyfriend the moment she arrives at his car. He keeps it in his laps, gazing at the gorgeous girl above him. (Y/n) leans onto the car carefully, not wanting to cause a scratch or worse.

“There you are, schatje, wish me luck“, Max murmurs. His blue eyes glisten from not daring to blink. The giggle coming from (Y/n) causes his heart to flutter like a million butterflies. He smiles dreamily.

“Good luck, Maxie“, (Y/n) whispers as she presses a kiss to his cheek, aware of the cameras on them. Taking a step back and watching her boyfriend hide his handsome face under a balaclava and finally his helmet, she catches a glimpse of a red lipstick mark on his skin. She can only smile at this little incident.

Of course, the next day there are a lot of pictures circulating on the internet. Everyone can see the admiration in Max Verstappen‘s eyes as well as the red mark on his cheek, he wears like a medal of honor. He simply loves his girl with every fiber of his being.

#max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fluff #formula one #formula one x reader

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sturnswrites · 2 days ago

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the couples menu

Chris Sturniolo x Fem!Reader

⤳ fluff

⤳ you and chris have been best friends for forever, but after an unexpected comment at your favorite diner, you both start to question how you really feel for each other.

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The diner buzzed with its usual evening crowd, the clinking of utensils and hum of conversation creating a comforting background noise. You and Chris had been coming here for years, ever since high school. There was something safe about this place—the worn vinyl booths, the sticky tabletops, the flickering neon sign outside that read “Best Pie in Town.”

Chris sat across from you, lazily stirring his Pepsi with his straw, his head tilted as he listened to you recount the latest chaos from your day.

“And then,” you said, waving your hands for emphasis, “he just walked away! Like he didn’t just spill an entire coffee on me. No apology, no offer to help. Just gone.”

Chris leaned back in the booth, shaking his head. “That’s wild. Honestly, I think you scare people sometimes. Maybe he thought you were gonna yell at him.”

“I do not scare people,” you protested, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Oh, you definitely do.” He smirked, a teasing glint in his eye.

“Chris!”

“Hey, I’m just saying. You’ve got that whole fiery thing going on. It’s intimidating.”

You huffed, crossing your arms, but the corners of your mouth betrayed you as they twitched upward.

“Anyway,” he said, leaning forward, “did you at least get a new coffee?”

“Of course. I wasn’t about to let him ruin my day and deprive me of caffeine.”

“That’s my girl.”

Your heart stuttered at the casual endearment, but you quickly brushed it off. Chris had always been like this—teasing, affectionate, comfortable. You had been best friends for, well, forever. It didn’t mean anything… right?

Before you could spiral too much, the waitress appeared at your table with a laminated menu. She was probably in her forties, with kind eyes and a warm smile that felt like an invitation to trust her.

“You two are just the cutest,” she said, placing the menu between you.

You blinked, glancing at Chris, who looked equally confused. “Uh, thanks?”

“I thought you might like to see our Couples Special,” she continued, gesturing to the menu. “It’s perfect for lovebirds like you.”

Your jaw dropped. “Oh, we’re not—”

“Couple,” Chris finished quickly, holding up his hands. “We’re not a couple.”

The waitress looked between the two of you, clearly unconvinced, but she just smiled knowingly. “Well, if you change your mind, let me know.”

She walked away, leaving you both sitting there in stunned silence.

Chris was the first to break it, a laugh escaping his lips. “Well, that was… something.”

“She thought we were a couple,” you said, your voice tinged with disbelief.

He shrugged, leaning back in his seat. “Can you blame her? We’re here all the time, we’re laughing, having a great time. We probably do look like a couple.”

You stared at him, your heart doing that annoying flutter thing it had been doing lately whenever he was around. “You’re not seriously saying we should just go along with it.”

“I’m saying,” he said, picking up the menu, “ten bucks off dessert isn’t a bad deal.”

“Chris!”

“What? It’s practical. Plus, free dessert.”

You groaned, but you couldn’t help laughing. He always had a way of making things light, even when your stomach was doing anxious flips.

The rest of the meal went on mostly as usual, though you couldn’t shake the lingering tension from the waitress’s assumption. Every so often, Chris would catch your eye, a small smile tugging at his lips, like he was amused by the whole situation.

When the bill came, the waitress gave you another warm smile, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Hope you two have a lovely night.”

Chris thanked her, his voice smooth and easy, but you felt like your face might catch fire.

Outside, the evening air was cool against your flushed skin. You walked side by side toward Chris’s car, the silence between you heavy but not uncomfortable.

“Hey,” he said suddenly, stopping just short of the car.

You turned to face him, your pulse quickening at the serious look on his face. “What’s up?”

He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, his gaze flicking to the ground before meeting yours. “Can we talk about tonight? The whole ‘couple menu’ thing?”

Your stomach twisted, heart beating faster and faster. “What about it?”

“I don’t know,” he said, letting out a small laugh. “It just… it got me thinking. About us.”

Your heart was pounding now, but you tried to keep your voice steady. “What about us?”

He hesitated, running a hand through his hair. “I mean, don’t you think it’s weird? Like, why does everyone always assume we’re together?”

You shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “I guess we spend a lot of time together. People just assume.”

“Yeah, but I mean, I think it’s more than that,” he said, stepping closer. “It’s the way we are around each other. We laugh, we tease, we’re comfortable. I don’t blame people for thinking we’re a couple because… sometimes, I think about it too.”

You froze, his words hitting you like a tidal wave. Your voice came down to a whisper from the shock you were feeling. “You… what?”

He sighed, his breath visible in the chilly air. “Y/N, I’ve been thinking about it for a while now. Years actually. And tonight just made me realize I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel something for you. I’m in love with you. I have been for a long time.”

Your breath caught, your heart hammering in your chest. “Chris…”

“I get it if you don’t feel the same way,” he rushed on, his voice tinged with nervousness. “I just… I had to tell you. Even if it messes things up, I couldn’t keep it in anymore. I can’t keep moving on wondering what could be between us.”

You stared at him, your emotions swirling in a confusing mess of shock, joy, and fear. Finally, you took a shaky step forward. “Chris, I’ve been trying to ignore it, but I feel the same way. I think I’ve been in love with you for years, and I was just too scared to admit it. I’ve tried so hard to move past it because I never wanted it to be the reason that I… lost you.” as you swallowed hard unsure of what he was going to say next.

His eyes widened, hope flickering across his face. “You mean that?”

You nodded, a small laugh escaping your lips. “Yeah. I mean that.”

Relief washed over him, and before you could say anything else, he pulled you into a tight hug, his arms wrapping around you like he never wanted to let go.

“I was so scared I’d ruin everything,” he murmured into your hair, placing a soft kiss on top of your head.

“You didn’t ruin anything,” you said softly, pulling back just enough to look at him. “If anything, you made it better.”

He smiled, his eyes shining as he leaned his forehead against yours. “So… are we a couple now?”

You grinned, your heart feeling lighter than it had in years. “I guess we are.”

“Good,” he said, his voice steady. “Because I don’t think I could ever let you go.”

And just like that, everything between you and Chris fell into place, as if it had been waiting for this moment all along.

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

still don’t really know what I’m doing but this was fun to write 😛

⭒ margot

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader

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olderthannetfic · 3 days ago

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Nooooooo!

i didn't think i's ever see this on Squidgeworld, where my fics are archive-locked and which doesn't see a lot of traffic compared to AO3. But! i just got (on a short *crackfic*, too!) this comment:

I hope you're doing well! My name is Amiley and I'm an artist and experienced graphic designer specializing in fan fiction characters I’ve been following your work for a while and I really admire your storytelling style I’d love to explore the possibility of a paid collaboration that combines our strengths I believe we could create something unique that would deeply resonate with our audiences If this sounds interesting, I’d be excited to discuss it further! Looking forward to connecting with you. Best regards, Amiley Instagram: @Amiley_thomas

i don't have insta, lol. But they do have a Squidge profile, and it was created on the day they sent this, so i'm wondering how many people got this generic, empty-sounding comment. i don't think i ever got this kind of fake offer on AO3, too (i got other scammy stuff though), and it's always been from guest users.

Do people actually fall for that?

Anyway, looks like Squidgeworld will now also be a target T_T

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wheel-of-fics · 3 days ago

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Fanfiction Author Interview Game

Thank you for the tag, @kotaka-kun! I'm trying to get back into writing and am forcing myself to get in a better fic-writer mindset.

How many works do you have on AO3?

14 (but more on FFN, from the olden times)

What's your total AO3 word count?

209.294 (442,145 on FFN)

Your top 5 stories by kudos/likes:

Unsung

Out of the Woods

Old Haunts

Turnabout

Restoration

(If we're considering legacy FFN stuff, By Starlight would fall just after Unsung, and The Ivory Tower would probably be on the list, but since it's forever unfinished I like to pretend it doesn't exist.)

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Usually! Although they sometimes fall through the cracks. I am really, really appreciative of comments and try to respond earnestly, but I feel like my replies start to sound like a broken record and it's awkward.

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

IIIII don't know. Maybe Burn? I almost always turn angst into a happy ending by the end of the story. It's self-preservation.

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

See previous answer—can't pick one!

Do you write crossovers?

I have not attempted to yet!

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

I've received several passive-aggressive comments and seen some not-nice things said about my work elsewhere, but I'm not sure I've gotten any straight-up hate comments, thankfully.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I do; it's usually a part of a story and not the sole reason for it (though I have done that, too).

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of...

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes, Unsung and maybe something else (?) (it's been a while) has been translated into Chinese.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, I think I would drive a co-author insane.

What's your all-time favorite ship?

Uhhhh I can't pick, actually...I'll come back to this later (I won't)

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

Red Death Riding JUST KIDDING but it does feel like that sometimes. Still, we persevere.

What are your writing strengths?

Ughghgh I don't know. I’ve been told I'm good at pacing, and that balance between like inner thoughts and external goings-on. (There is a better way to say that, but I'm tired.) Um...I think I'm pretty good at sentence flow? And...punctuating correctly? I sure hope I'm decent at character development. And I like to think I bring original ideas to the table.

What are your writing weaknesses?

The ideation of it all (though this hasn't always been the case—it's a work in progress), and honestly just getting words on the page. It's so hard to turn off the editor brain I use for work, and I feel like I'm always editing myself before, during, and after every sentence. I also wish I could delve deeper into the thoughts and reactions of characters who aren't like me.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Not a huge fan. It can be OK if done well, but it often takes me out of the narrative.

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

I have enough trouble focusing on my current fic/fandom as it is! Don't make me think about other things!

What's your favorite fic you've written?

I honestly don’t have one. I see each fic as a stepping stone in the course of my writing journey—a challenge that I issued to myself and completed—and I'm usually looking forward to the next challenge instead of back.

I haven't been around much lately and don't know who all has done this! I'll try tagging @musicalhell @les-gnossiennes-fantomatiques @emotionalmotionsicknessxx and @rienerose (but please feel free to ignore!).

#tag game

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blackcatxmagic · 21 hours ago

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Normally Winter had a more difficult time making friends than this, so it sort of amazed him that everything felt so easy with Stoker. They just had this natural chemistry, and somehow Winter knew that they were going to be close. Maybe it was just wishful thinking since Winter wanted that, but it felt like something more. They just had this easy connection, and Winter was looking forward to exploring that more. Smiling at the other, Winter nodded. "Yeah, Beckett," he replied, his smile growing at the way Stoker called him by his first and middle name. "What's your middle name?" he asked the other. "I bet it's something cool since your first name is Stoker. Unless it actually is spontaneity" Winter could only imagine what the other's middle name would be. He laughed at Stoker's comment, nodding. "Yeah, Annette loves her honey, so I think she's really pleased about that, and I'm happy to have honest feedback. But a second opinion could only be a good thing." Sometimes he worried that Annette would just tell him what he wanted to hear, so it would be nice to have Stoker's thoughts as well.

Winter's blush intensified at Stoker's words. "Thank you," he said softly. "You are too." There was definitely energy between the two of them, and Winter was really happy that they had met. "I'll see you soon."

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A couple of days later, Winter was going through his house, taking down some of his notes. While he left some on the fridge and in some inconspicuous places, the more obvious ones in strange locations he removed, though Winter saved them to put back later. The last thing he wanted was Stoker to think he was weird when he arrived. After storing all of his notes in a drawer, he sat down in the living room, just waiting. Winter wasn't sure why he was so nervous, but he was. Maybe it was because he had been vibing so well with Stoker and was worried he couldn't maintain that, but Winter knew better if he could sift through all his insecurities. After their encounter, he'd written a note about Stoker in his notebook: "Stoker - they're as cool as you remember." He sometimes doubted his memories, and clearly past Winter didn't want that to happen in this case.

Stoker’s grin only grew as Winter handed him the napkin with the address and phone number, feeling a wave of excitement perk him up further. The way Winter seemed to genuinely enjoy his company made it all the more exciting, and Stoker could already imagine how much fun they’d have together. Bees and honey aside, there was something about this connection that felt too good to pass up; the connections made with the people in Cardinal Hill was one of Stoker's favourite thing about the town, and it seemed that no matter how long they'd lived here for, it never stopped.

“Beckett, huh?” Stoker laughed lightly, shaking his head. “You gotta be kidding me, that’s so much better than my actual middle name," Stoker shook his head again, always feeling cheated by his parents' input in his name. "Alright, Winter Beckett, I’ll be there, no doubt about it," his eyes glinted with the playful energy that always seemed to follow him. He glanced at the napkin, committing the details to memory, despite his plans to keep it safe and sound. “Honestly, I'm not surprised that Annette's your go to taste tester; it sounds like a pretty good deal, and it sounds like you’ve got the magic touch with that stuff.”

As Winter blushed, Stoker’s own smile softened, the genuine warmth between them feeling more natural than ever. He appreciated how easily they connected, how comfortable everything felt. “Thanks for this, Winter. You’re a good one, you know that?” Stoker’s voice was light, but there was something sincere underneath, a sense of gratitude for how open and welcoming Winter had been.

Before they turned to leave, Stoker glanced back, eyes meeting Winter’s. “Thanks again, seriously. This is shaping up to be a great time. I love this strange little town," with that, and another chuckle, he tucked the napkin safely into his pocket, eager for whatever came next with Winter and the bees.

#interaction*#interactions: winter #winter & stoker

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starry-songs-canvas · 7 months ago

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Talking Him Down

Whenever Damian thought of his twin brother, he thought of his kindness. His fascination with the stars, his willingness to take the fall for Damian whenever sick or hurt animals were found in the compound. His aversion to killing or torture, which thought of as a weakness in the league, Damian had secretly admired. He thought of Danny talking him down from mistakes he knew Damian would regret.

He never thought the positions would be reversed.

Yet there his somehow alive brother was there, standing over an already bloody Vladimir Masters with rage-filled cold eyes and a knife in hand.

“You should leave, Dami. Before things get too messy.”

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floralovebot · 3 months ago

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MADE EDITS i couldn't stop thinking about their outfits and like,, the aspects i liked and thought felt very winx and in line with the individual characters and the aspects i Hated and thought sucked dookie SO i made some edits :)

biggest changes are to musa, aisha, and stella! actually changed the clothes there. flora and tecna i just adjusted the colors (in flora's case to further unwhitewash her and saturate her clothing more and in tecna's case to bring back her pink hair and green and cyan).

explanations on changes below!

I'll start with the simpler edits!

For Tecna, I just wanted to play around with her og colors lol I actually LOVE her new look and I would love to see this be the final design!! It's SO tecna and fits in with the rest of the winx i love it soo much :') I do think they should bring back her pinker hair though! And again, would love to see the green and cyan make an appearance. I feel like neon green is just very classy techy character. And while it is cliche, I do love it akjgd plus I think it looks good on her and makes the other colors stand out more imo! (but maybe this new, pinker look will make people like her more idk :') justice for tecna my beloved :'))

For Flora, I darkened her skin more for obvious reasons. And then I added more saturation to the colors and added back the warmer tones they took out. Imo, the darker, desaturated, and cooler toned look for Flora only works in very specific circumstances. Color theory rainbow!! Bring back the brightness! The color!! The warmth!!

Which brings me to Stella ohmygod,,, please,,,, please stop desaturating her she looks so pale and sick and lifeless STOP please :') Anyway lol, obviously brought back the brighter orange! I also took away the random sleeve. It's cute but it just didn't feel very Stella at the time? The tube top look is Very Classic Stella (very much giving s3 casual but in orange). Tbh, I don't love the dress itself, but I do think it looks better once you add more of Stella's colors. I also tanned her skin more and made her hair more yellow + brighter! Just like with Flora, color theory is important for media!! This Stella design just does Not give sunny, optimistic character. It's giving the gap (aka BORING aljdhg)

Aisha's design stumped me for a bit, I won't lie. I couldn't figure out exactly what I didn't like. But I got it!! One, way too symmetrical imo. Yes, Aisha does have some very symmetrical looks, but like 80% of her looks are very asymmetrical. I also didn't love that it didn't incorporate more of Aisha's powers. It really just went for *vaguely sporty* and didn't try to bring anything else to the table. And some people might say that Aisha's og looks were like that too, but I disagree! They told a story! She's a brave adventurer, a dancer, a princess, etcetc!! This tells me "oh yeah this girl might like to do yoga. cool."

Anyway! So I made Aisha's pants baggier because let's be fucking real for a sec. Changed the design on the pants slightly to make it asymmetrical and incorporated a wave design. Took away that bottom shiny fabric of her shirt. I tried to keep it but it just wasn't looking great with the pants changes tbh. Added small waves to the bottom and made it one shoulder! Also added her classic little circle wave design 1. because it's cute and 2. so Musa wouldn't feel so out of place with a design. Tbh, I still don't love the pants... I think maybe that hem could be higher?

For Musa! I've spoken about this before but I do not like the bodysuit. I liked the concept and the vibe it brings, but it looks So uncomfortable and s1 Musa was alllll about being comfortable. It's why so many people think she hates wearing dresses (even though she doesn't). So I kept the vibe, but changed it to the same mesh that's on her right arm! Which like!! I didn't even see that until I started the edit!! It's so,,, unnoticeable which like,, isn't a bad thing? But also? I think the mesh being on her stomach too makes the design as a whole a little more balanced (and it's a nice callback to her og magic winx!). As for the color changes, really just wanted to go back to her reds and dark blues. I don't Hate the color scheme, but I also don't love it. And I think this feels a lot more like Musa yknow? Also darkened her hair cause fuck that dude

Anyway lol it's not the best edit so don't look too hard :') I just wanted to explore what I liked about the designs and what I didn't. We did get to see a little bit of Bloom's casual, but I want to wait until we get a closer look to speak on it/make edits. Also tbh, I don't really love Flora's outfit but I didn't want to completely redesign her and I concede that this is something she would wear (although it feels more like s4 cowgirl time/s5 casual and not s1 new student time but Fine). For now, I'm gonna pretend the trailer showed us my edit of Stella and not what it really showed. I can't get pale pinterest stella out of my head,,, aggghhhh

#tbh i don't love stella being monochrome that much but trust me the pink wasn't working #as a whole though the goal was to make it feel more like Them and make them feel more individual!!#as others have mentioned.. the constant baby pink is Sooo annoying and it makes them blend together way too much #its not a cohesive vibe its just 'here lets all wear pink for no fucking reason'#but anyway while i don't Love stella being all orange i feel like it doesnt stand out tooo badly thanks to tecna #also again i still really hate aisha's pants :') idk they look SO off to me #the wave was a big brain moment but i fear not even that could save her #i think im gonna do another edit for her later!#anyway. thoughts? comments? concerns?#tbh i am loving seeing all the positivity toward the new outfits #like yes ive seen my fair share of hate but i feel like fans are genuinely looking forward to this #and keeping an open mind even with the things they don't love!#i love that :') we haven't had that in the winx fandom since like.. world of winx maybe... and even that had a lot of hate #because of the whitewashing especially which valid but even smaller things that were just Different #so its really nice to see people so genuinely excited and looking forward to it!! its probably helping the morale at rainbow lol #winx club #mine.edits #mine.art #winx club spoilers #kind of i still dont know if these are Final designs but im going to treat them as such since we're getting closer to the release

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