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gimmethatagustd · 2 months

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wanna stream a porno | kth

At this point, attempting to deny that you have feelings for Taehyung is laughable. Even his subscribers can sense the chemistry between the two of you.

○ Pairing: Dom!Taehyung x Sub!Reader

○ Rating: Explicit/18+

○ Genre: Frenemies to lovers, sex work, fluff (?), smut

○ Word Count: 4,846

○ Warnings: Sex work (cam), MC uses they/them pronouns, Tae refers to MC as bunny and bun - aka rope bunny which is the term for the person being tied up in a shibari scene, bdsm, bondage, impact play, spanking, use of degrading language - that isn't actually meant to be mean, voyeurism, exhibition kink, Tae makes MC call him daddy so they won't dox him lmfao but it's not a kink - he's doing it as a joke to tease MC, blow job, vaginal fingering, sex toys, crying during sex, subspace/dropping, unprotected vaginal sex, forced orgasms, overstimulation, squirting, implied aftercare

○ Notes: HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY, BESTIES 🫦 I hope you enjoy the final installment of The Wannabe-Photographer Chronicles! Photographer Tae will be missed 💔 I definitely did not proofread this, so abandon all hope, ye who enter! My brain is literally broken.

○ Post Date: February 14, 2024

○ Masterlist | AO3 Crosspost

○ What was Jai listening to? One Of The Girls (Sped Up) - The Weeknd, JENNIE, Lily-Rose Depp

The Wannabe-Photographer Chronicles (mini-series) Masterlist

“Too tight?” Taehyung murmurs against the curve of your ear, his breath tickling your neck.

It’s embarrassing how your body reacts to the sound of his low, velvety voice. You'd snorted when Taehyung first told you that people on the internet paid money to listen to his dirty talk and watch him jerk off. There was no fucking way; he had to be lying. You’d been sure of it.

But now…

Taehyung reaches around your body and tugs on the rope he’s just tied your wrists with. It looks rough, black, and twisted but smooth as it rubs against your skin when you move.

You shiver and shake your head, forgetting what you’d discussed earlier in the day until it’s too late. The smack to your ass stings, and you bite your bottom lip to keep from making any sound.

“What did I tell you, bun?” Taehyung asks softly, running his palm across the skin he just smacked. He squeezes your asscheek and jiggles it before removing his hand.

“I have to use my words,” you speak up like he told you to, even though your voice is hoarse with desire and nervousness. Because, fuck, are you nervous.

“Mhmm…” Taehyung hums in agreement, though he sounds distracted.

You can’t see him from where you kneel on the floor in his bedroom, but you can feel it when he gets up. If you wanted to, you could twist around to face him. It would be difficult, though, with how much of your body is tied up.

Taehyung spent at least twenty minutes carefully weaving intricate patterns against your naked skin, crossing the rope in what almost looks like a star formation across your back that wraps around to the front of your body, keeping your arms tied to your sides and your hands bound in front of you. The rope cages your chest like a harness and extends down to wrap around your legs, forcing you into a kneeling position and making you unable to straighten your legs.

It took you three weeks of practicing before Taehyung could fully tie you up without you going into a panic attack.

“It’s not too tight,” you announce after clearing your throat.

You watch as Taehyung circles your body until he stands in front of you. He reaches out to flick his middle finger against the underside of your chin, prompting you to tilt your head back to look up at him.

“My little rope bunny looks so pretty, all tied up for me,” Taehyung says with a sparkling grin that makes your whole body flush with heat.

“I want to tell you off so badly right now,” you hiss through gritted teeth. Your frustration only makes Taehyung’s grin widen.

“I bet you do. It’s a shame you can’t, but rules are rules.” Taehyung shrugs, not at all nonchalant in his mocking tone.

You close your eyes as he trails his finger down your throat and past your collarbones until he reaches one of your nipples. Usually, it would take more than a gentle brush of a fingertip against your nipple for you to feel aroused, but there’s something about being tied up that has heightened your senses. Every minor touch has your nerves sparking and fraying at the ends. Taehyung isn’t even doing anything, and you’re already wet and aching.

“Taehyung,” you do your best to sound steady and fail.

“Let me fix the cameras and figure out what I’m gonna wear, okay? I’ll be quick; I promise.”

Taehyung rearranged all the furniture in his bedroom to leave an open spot in the corner of the room where he set up cameras and photography lighting. His laptop rests on an end table nearby, the screen showing a mirrored image of you kneeling on the floor on a pale pink silk sheet, fluffy pillows surrounding you in a half-circle. It’s all very Y2K, softcore aesthetic – not what you’d expect from Taehyung. His followers are mostly young women, though, and he says he likes to play up his soft side for them.

It sounds ridiculous, but there’s something about being tied up in such a gentle environment that’s making your pussy throb.

Taehyung is quick, as he promised. He returns, shirtless and wearing a pair of black joggers to match the black rope wrapped around your body. You drag your eyes over his torso, admiring the flat plane of his abdomen and the swell of his pecs. Smooth – it’s the best word to describe Taehyung. His voice, body, and charisma when he murmurs sweet seductions in your ear are always so smooth.

When he catches you staring, Taehyung winks at you. It makes you flustered despite your desire to remain neutral, and you quickly look down to find something else to focus your attention on. In Taehyung’s hands is a long, rectangular purple box. He sets it down next to you on the floor and opens the lid.

You gasp when you see what’s inside.

“Taehyung…”

“It’s for later. Don’t worry about it,” Taehyung says softly, pressing his index finger against your parted lips to quiet you.

On instinct, you close your lips around Taehyung’s finger and suck it gently, swirling your tongue around it. Taehyung’s eyes flutter closed for a few seconds until he pulls his hand away.

“You’re such a slut.”

“Fuck you.”

You can’t help but grin when Taehyung sticks his tongue out at you. He’s an idiot, but you love it. You love him, maybe. To be determined.

Or never. Never is also fine.

“So… what the fuck is gonna happen now? I’m starting to cramp,” you complain as Taehyung messes around with his laptop.

“What?” Taehyung spins around quickly, nearly sending one of his floor lamps crashing when his elbow collides with the stand. “You’re in pain? Where? Let me loosen–”

“Oh my god, Taehyung, I’m fine. I just don’t feel like kneeling naked on the fucking floor while you dick around!”

With a snort, Taehyung turns his back on you.

“I’m just trying to take care of my little movie star, alright?”

The nickname, if that’s what you can even call it, makes your stomach flutter. It doesn’t matter that you’re trying your best to stay unaffected by Taehyung’s bullshit; Taehyung has you under his spell like he always does.

“I know what to say…” you insist with a pout, flexing your fingers. “Red for stop, yellow for slow down, green for good…”

It’s elementary, but all the prep Taehyung made you do leading up to this moment showed you how important having a system is, be it a random safe word or the colors. What you don’t want to tell Taehyung is how comforting the rope is. You don’t want him to have the satisfaction of knowing that you like being restrained. It’s like a tight embrace, and the rope causes goosebumps to spread across your body when its silkiness rubs against your skin every time you shift positions.

Watching you over his shoulder, Taehyung calls you softly, “I’m going to start the session if that’s okay?”

You nod, adrenaline buzzing through your veins as you hear the little pings from Taehyung’s laptop, indicating that people are paying to join the livestream. It’s still shocking that Taehyung has such a large following. However, it makes sense now that he has been so interested in erotic photography and film for his projects as a university student studying art. Funny how your roommate, Hoseok, never bothered to tell you that his friend does amateur porn – though Taehyung was quick to make it clear that he has never had anyone else on his stream before you.

You’re special.

You wonder who might be sitting on the other end, paying to watch Taehyung pleasure himself every Wednesday night.

“It’s hump day,” Taehyung had said with an exasperated sigh when you’d asked why he chose Wednesdays, as if you were the stupidest person on the planet for asking such a question.

The worst part is wondering if someone watching Taehyung’s stream will recognize you. Taehyung doesn’t shy away from showing his face, but he’d offered you a mask or only to use camera angles that wouldn’t expose your identity. You’d turned down both offers, though you can’t remember why. You can’t remember much of anything, your mind going blank the moment Taehyung addresses the anonymous subscribers waiting for porn.

“Hey everyone, it’s nice to see you all again this week,” Taehyung greets his followers with a deeper and richer voice than you’ve ever heard him use. It makes your body tingle. “For those of you following me on my socials or who joined last week, you’ll know I promised to do something special for Valentine’s Day, right?”

You can’t see the laptop screen; Taehyung is standing in front of it. He’s also blocking the camera, so the people logged into the session can’t see you yet.

“I have a special guest,” Taehyung shifts to the side so you’re in view, “This is Bunny, and it’s their first time on camera like this, so please be kind.”

Unsure of what to do, you wave your fingers in a greeting, unable to do much else since you’re all tied up. It must be enough because Taehyung smiles when he looks at you, and you feel your face heat up from the gentle gesture.

Luckily, Taehyung’s attention quickly returns to the livestream chat. Apparently, Jimin is hanging out in his bedroom, moderating the chat to ensure no one posts anything inappropriate. Knowing Jimin will be watching excites you a little bit.

“Ah, no, we’re not dating,” Taehyung chuckles, and it’s strange to be able to say that you know Taehyung well enough to know that this laughter isn’t genuine. “Don’t get any ideas, though. Trust me. Our little bun might look harmless, but it’s a ruse.”

You can’t help but snort. You’d think Taehyung is stalling, but you’ve learned that his subscribers expect a sort of parasocial relationship with him. He usually warms up by feeding into that. As weirdly cute as it is, your nerves are making you impatient.

“Even though it’s my bun’s first time, I don’t think we need to take it easy on them,” Taehyung smirks into the camera, and more pings ring through the bedroom.

Each ping indicates that the livestream viewers are leaving messages in the chat and sending Taehyung money to request specific actions – actions he refuses to tell you about because that would ruin all the fun.

“Hmm…” Taehyung murmurs, eyes dragging from the streaming platform’s chat feature to you, wrapped up like a pretty present for him. The look is weighty and dark, which Taehyung has never had while looking at you.

Suddenly embarrassed, you drop your gaze as Taehyung approaches where you kneel.

“Are you ready, bun?” Taehyung’s question is softer than the look he gives you.

You nod in return and hope your nerves aren’t visible to Taehyung’s loyal fans. It would suck to fuck this up for him, as much as he annoys you. Admittedly, ever since that impromptu threesome with Jimin, Taehyung has been acting different around you. He’s been almost… sweet.

Taehyung takes out a black, wide-end riding crop from the purple box. He hits the palm of his hand with it a few times as though testing it out. He looks good, the muscles in his biceps shifting and bulging every time he winds up to flick the crop. Your entire body shudders when his dark eyes flit down to meet yours.

“How many times do I have to tell you to speak up, hm?”

Taehyung falls into character quicker than you expect. It gives you whiplash watching him push back his hair, now a light minty color that looks pretty against the pink surrounding you, his gaze an oppressive force crushing you harder than the rope ever could. Your attention briefly falls on the laptop when a few pings ring out.

What if people don’t like you? What if you don’t do well? You’d agreed to do this because Taehyung wanted to expand his portfolio, just like every other time you agreed to spend time with him. You both know that isn’t why you’re here, even if neither of you want to say it out loud.

“Bun.” Using the flat end of the crop, Taehyung lifts your chin to look at him instead of the laptop. “Don’t think about them. Just focus on me, okay?”

“Okay,” you breathe, suddenly feeling lightheaded.

Taehyung drags the crop down your chest, tapping lightly at your tits to watch them bounce against the black rope. Goosebumps rush across your skin like waves in the wake of the crop’s path down your body.

“How many should I give you?”

You blink a few times, eyes suddenly bleary as you watch Taehyung walk around to stand behind you. The camera captures your side profile, allowing viewers to see you and Taehyung clearly. Despite Taehyung’s reassuring words, it’s hard not to think about the anonymous people watching Taehyung caress your body.

“How many what?” Your breath hitches when Taehyung’s hand replaces the crop to run up the length of your spine until he reaches the back of your neck.

“For your punishment, bun. How many hits do you deserve?” Taehyung asks, his voice with a deep timbre. “Lean forward.”

Taehyung squeezes the back of your neck and pushes, forcing your upper body down a bit further while you stay kneeling. Lifting the crop, he smacks your ass three times in quick succession, each hit a sharp sting that makes your body jolt.

“Oh, fuck,” you gasp as you struggle to keep your balance. “Is that really necessary?”

Taehyung clicks his tongue, and even though you can’t see him, you’re sure he has an infuriatingly smug look on his face.

“Count them,” he murmurs loud enough for the stream to pick up.

It’s strange how pliant you become with each hit. Something about the pain zaps something in your brain, sending your nervous system haywire until the stings turn into pleasure. Taehyung focuses each hit on the same spot until your skin becomes tender, but he doesn’t stop until your entire body shakes.

“T-twenty,” you count with a shudder, tears lining your eyelashes and fingers squeezing the ropes on your chest to give you something to hold onto, though it does nothing to ground.

“Very good.” It’s a simple statement, but Taehyung’s praise does something to you. Either that or it’s the feeling of the crop being dragged over your sore asscheek to dip inward.

You gasp when Taehyung pushes the crop through your pussy, spreading your lips open and running the crop along your folds. You’re soaking wet and on edge from him spanking you, so the glide is easy for Taehyung as he begins rubbing your clit. The crop is warm from your body heat, and though the shape is sharp and angular, any amount of stimulation feels good.

“Please,” you beg, bending forward further to expose more of your pussy.

The ropes around your legs keep your thighs spread, putting you on display for easy access. Even though you can’t see it, you’re sure your arousal glistens in the bright lighting, and you can feel your juices leak down your folds.

Taehyung runs his thumb through your pussy lips, swishing your arousal around, dragging up and down your clit before he eventually sinks his index and middle fingers into your pussy.

His name almost slips out when your thighs begin to shake. You want to call out his name and beg him to fuck you, even though everything in you doesn’t want to give him that satisfaction. It’s just too good, and you haven’t fucked since that time with Jimin. Taehyung said it would be better that way to help with your nerves, but now you’re feeling desperate, and you hate the feeling of needing to be filled.

“Fuck, look at you. You like being tied up like this, don’t you?” Taehyung smirks when he tosses the crop to the side and uses his other hand to stimulate your clit while he continues fucking you with his fingers.

You moan loudly, completely forgetting about the people watching Taehyung getting on his knees to finger you, twisting each time he pulls out, just to plunge back in and press downward to stimulate your front wall.

Remembering the rules, you swallow your pride and do what Taehyung wants.

“Yes, daddy.”

It’s humiliating to call Taehyung that. You hate it, but you can’t say his real name on air, and this was what he’d told you to call him – or else you’d be punished. He won’t let you cum if you don’t behave. Though you can’t deny how good Taehyung sounds when he groans at the name, nor how good it feels when he speeds up his fingers.

“Say it again,” Taehyung murmurs, leaning forward to press his bare chest to your back so he can reach your ear. “Baby, say it again.”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Fuck.”

Grabbing your hips, Taehyung yanks you back so he can switch places with you, now kneeling in front of you. Being on this side gives him a better view of the livestream chat. Whatever he finds there makes him smile, something lopsided and suspicious.

“They do have a pretty pussy, don’t they?” Taehyung grins into the camera, reaching forward to cup your pussy. He crowds your space, forcing your face against his crotch when he leans in.

Despite how embarrassing the action is, you mouth at the bulge in his joggers.

“Hurry up,” you whine, knowing Taehyung might scold you but uncaring. “Fuck me already.”

A slap to your tender ass makes you cry out in pain.

“Our friends think I need to do something about your bratty mouth, bun,” Taehyung points out with his arms crossed against his firm chest. “They’re right, of course. You’ve always been so bratty with me.”

“Fuck you,” you hiss quietly, both hoping no one hears you and also that they will.

“You’re cute when you’re acting like a slutty little bitch.”

Taehyung tongues the inside of his cheek and turns to the box that had held the riding crop. The insults scratch some itch in the back of your brain, and your pussy betrays you by pulsing with need.

From the box, Taehyung pulls out a pink cordless wand vibrator. The head is smooth and fat, the rest of the wand sleek like Taehyung’s fingers as they grip around the handle. Anticipation burns in the pit of your stomach while you wait for Taehyung to turn the wand on and press it against your swollen, neglected clit.

Instead, once the wand is on, Taehyung presses against the bulge in his joggers.

“Oh my god,” you moan as Taehyung drags the wand up his cock until he reaches the head. He circles it slowly, hips subtly thrust forward.

It makes sense that people pay to watch Taehyung masturbate. He’s pretty when he does it, staring directly into your eyes as he whimpers, breathy and sweet.

Each of his little moans makes you wetter, and your body continues to tremble with need. It’s so unbelievably hot how he tilts his head back, exposing the V of his jaw and his Adam’s apple, bobbing each time he swallows.

“Do you think I’m pretty, bun?” Taehyung smirks, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth as he finally removes the wand from his clothed cock. It’s hard to see the wet patch in his clothes from how dark the material is, but you know it’s there.

“Yes, daddy,” you whisper as Taehyung grabs a hold of your jaw and gives you a quick but firm squeeze that pushes your cheeks inward.

“I know you do.”

Letting go of your face, Taehyung hooks his thumbs in his joggers and pulls down far enough to take out his cock. It bobs and hangs heavy in front of your face, close enough that the tip brushes your cheek and smears precum across your face.

“Be a good bun and suck my cock, yeah?”

Not needing to be told twice, you lean forward to lap at the precum dribbling from Taehyung’s slit, making him groan. His body trembles slightly as you suck him into your mouth, and it feels good to know you’re not the only one affected.

Reaching for the wand again, Taehyung runs the tip along his shaft as you suckle the head of his cock. You can feel the vibrations in your mouth, and the sensation seems to travel down the rest of your body as your pussy pulses.

“Fuck,” Taehyung moans, throwing his head back as you take more of his cock down your throat. “Don’t go any faster. Keep it nice and slow.”

He only lets you suck him off for a bit longer, just enough to get his cock nice and wet from gagging around him. Then he tugs on your ropes, pulling you off of his cock as you gasp for air.

“You okay?” Taehyung brushes his thumb against your bottom lip, wiping away spit and precum, you’re sure. It’s disgusting, but he’s so gentle when he does it that your face grows hot.

“I’m fine.”

“You look pretty like this,” he murmurs. “I can’t wait to fuck you, baby. Been thinking about it for weeks.”

It isn’t until Taehyung cradles the side of your face and slots his lips with yours that you realize you haven’t even kissed. You usually don’t, too caught up in the carnal need to consume each other in other ways.

But kissing Taehyung feels good.

He holds you gently as your lips glide together, Taehyung tasting himself on your tongue and moaning into your mouth when he does. You pant against each other in between kisses, Taehyung using the opportunity to bite and suck on your bottom lip until you’re pushing yourself against him, seeking more. You just want to be close, closer.

“Turn around,” he breathes against your spit-slicked lips. It isn’t easy, but he helps you move until you’re facing away from him.

Without being told, you begin to lower your upper body onto the floor, but Taehyung stops you with an arm around your chest.

“Wait.” It’s spoken against your ear, his breath hot like your core as it pulses when you realize what Taehyung is doing.

He turns on the wand to the lowest vibration setting and carefully slips it through the rope wrapped around your hips. Placement presses the head of the wand directly to your clit.

“I can’t,” you squeak, hunching over as the subtle vibrations ripple through you. Normally, the setting would be too low to get you off quickly, but Taehyung has been edging you this whole time.

“It’s okay if you cum, baby. I wanna see how many times I can make you cum.”

Taehyung bites the curve of your ear before shoving the middle of your back until your upper body rests on the floor and your ass is in the air. He’s gentle when he presses his cock against your entrance, the glide easy from how sloppy wet you are. You can hear him bottom out, the sound of your arousal gushing around his cock with each wet slap of his thighs against yours as he thrusts in and out of you.

It only takes three deep strokes before you cum, pussy fluttering around Taehyung’s cock and your body shaking underneath him. The ropes prevent you from wriggling and writhing, and the vibrator on your clit prolongs your orgasm. You feel like it never ends, just wave after wave of pleasure, making your body lock up.

“Oh fuck, fuck, Tae-” You’re cut off by Taehyung’s hand slapped across your mouth.

“Behave, bun,” he growls, never letting up his pace despite how violently your body reacts to the prolonged orgasm.

Grabbing the rope tied around your back, Taehyung pulls on it, forcing you to rock back and forth on his cock at the pace he wants. You’re so wet that he slips in and out of you with wet squelches loud enough to be heard by all his subscribers.

“Oh my god,” you moan as your body rocks against the pretty sheets and fluffy pink pillows. It helps stop you from chafing against the floor, but you don’t care. All you can focus on is how good Taehyung feels, his cock filling you up and his hands tightening the hold the ropes have on the most sensitive parts of your body.

“God, you’re always so fucking creamy,” Taehyung groans, slapping your ass to watch it jiggle on his cock.

You feel another orgasm ripple through you, having barely recovered from the other one. Taehyung fucks you through it still and then fucks you through the next one.

By the time you’ve cum for the fourth time, tears stream down your face.

“Please,” you sob, the buzz of the vibrator and Taehyung’s moans flooding your brain until there’s nothing left.

“One more, bun,” Taehyung grunts as he reaches over to pull the wand out of the ropes. He tosses it to the side and replaces it with his fingers, rubbing quick circles over your clit. “Come on, give me one more so we can finish together.”

The remaining pressure inside of you bursts the moment Taehyung starts playing with your clit. You feel your pussy gush around his cock as you cum even more than before, so much that you can feel it leak down your thighs and soak the bed sheet below you.

A flurry of pings reminds you that you’re on camera. You can barely think straight long enough to understand what that means when Taehyung lets out a broken moan behind you.

“Oh fuck, you just squirted, fuck baby, why are you so hot.” Taehyung’s grip on your hips hurts when he finally cums, still thrusting even when you’ve both been pushed beyond overstimulation.

When he finally pulls out, you sag to the floor. Your entire body aches from being tied up and pounded into, not to mention how sore your ass and clit are from the constant stimulation.

“You’re trying to kill me,” you accuse weakly as Taehyung takes a deep breath, head thrown back, chest sweaty. He’s still wearing his joggers, and his soft cock hangs over the waistband, shiny with cum.

“Fuck,” Taehyung groans, running a hand over his face, “Alright, that’s, that’s all for today.” He crawls over to the laptop and gives the camera a salute. “See you all next week, assuming I’ve recovered.”

The final pings ring out from the laptop before Taehyung snaps it shut and falls back on his butt. He finally tucks his cock back in his pants and turns to where you lie, weak on the floor.

“Shit, let me get you out of this.”

You’re in a haze, something floaty and free, like a cloud, and Taehyung caresses your wispy body as he unwraps you. Your head lulls to the side, and you let Taehyung lift your limbs and shift your body until he’s finished with all the ropes.

“How are you feeling?” Taehyung asks, gently pressing a kiss to your forehead.

Content. Satiated. Happy. In love.

“Tired,” you mumble as you stare up at Taehyung. His eyes are bright, and his cheeks are a soft pink, youthful, and pretty.

“We can take a bath and then go to bed. You’ll stay over?” His voice is a hopeful lilt when he asks, and your stomach flutters.

“Yes, daddy.”

Taehyung’s mouth morphs into that lopsided grin you pretend to hate so much.

“I love it when you call me that.”

“I hate you,” you spit out, but Taehyung kisses you before you can pout more.

It’s a slow kiss, far too gentle for what you’ve all just finished doing. Taehyung sighs into the kiss, tilting his head to deepen it, though his lips glide languidly rather than rushed with need like they had before.

You slip your arms around his broad shoulders and appreciate the stretch of being free from your restraints.

“You did so well, seriously. I’m really proud of you. You were so sexy and, fuck. I’m…” Taehyung trails off as he helps you stand up, keeping you cradled against his body when you start to sway. “Thank you for doing this with me.”

You nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck and find no bratty comeback, only a flood of happiness that nearly chokes you.

“Maybe we can do it again if you wanna,” you offer with your lips against his neck. His skin is salty with sweat, but you flick your tongue against him anyway, just to make him squirm.

Taehyung pulls back slightly to stare at you. “For real?”

“If you keep asking, I might change my mind!”

You try to wiggle out of Taehyung’s arms, but he keeps you close. It’s fine; you don’t really want to be anywhere else but here, pressed against Taehyung’s broad frame, blanketed by his gentle attention.

Even if he is annoying.

Disclaimer: All my writing is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. None of these characters are meant to actually represent the real people mentioned in the stories.

All rights reserved © @gimmethatagustd - Do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my writing. Do not use my writing for any AI purposes whatsoever. Do not use my fics for anything aside from reading and commenting on them. My fics will only be posted on this Tumblr and on AO3 (gimmethatagustd & daddytaehyungie). Request an AO3 account here.

#taehyung x reader #bts x reader #taehyung smut #taehyung fanfic #bts smut #bts fanfic #the wannabe photographer chronicles #wsap #jai writes #gimmethatagustd

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klausinamarink · 5 months

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The Munson Jinx

rating: T | cw: Eddie’s near-death experience, blood, mention of anxiety attack | tags: hurt/comfort, happy ending, getting together | wc: 885

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles | Dec 10: First kiss

Eddie hates first kisses.

In his experience, kissing a stranger’s lips always goes wrong. You can ask Isabelle Thesault, the first and only girl he’d kissed who never spoke to him again after he threw up on her face in seventh grade and ruined her Barbie t-shirt. Or Riley Nicks, who immediately punched him in their freshman year. Or David Young, a drunk jock who threw up in Eddie’s mouth and ruined his appetite for two days. Or Mortimer Lee, who bit Eddie’s lower lip and tongue too hard. Or that one older guy at the Bloomington bar which gave Eddie an explosive anxiety attack. Or-

You get the gist.

Hence, first kisses have snuck into the Munson Doctrine. You shall not passionately make out with another man. Remember the Isabelle incident if you’re tempted.

That is not to say that Eddie still yearns for that kind of romantic connection. There’s really nothing more intimate than letting the barriers down and allow another person to come close and gently kiss you. But that’s all Eddie can do: imagine a perfect scenario where nothing happens and the Munson jinx doesn’t foil another kiss.

Then the Munson jinx seems to move on from let’s make Eddie’s every first kiss horrible to let’s turn Eddie’s life a literal nightmare where bone-breaking interdimensional wizards exist.

At least Steve Harrington’s in it this time.

To be honest, Eddie doesn’t have much to say about Steve. Sure, he thought the old King of Hawkins was a douche, but after seeing him try and help out with Eddie’s new life as a murder suspect and kill a demon bat with his bare hands-

To say that Steve is a nice guy might be an understatement.

But he squashes down the newborn puppy crush. He’s seen how Steve’s gaze lingers on Nancy recently, back on the boat and here as they walk through the Upside Down. He thinks about how lonely Steve had been a couple years back after the breakup. So Eddie tells Steve about going for that second chance and this time, Nancy Wheeler will stay.

Except while Eddie is talking, he notices that Steve’s just looking at him. His eyes are briefly unfocused, flickering twice to Eddie’s lips-

Oh no.

Eddie just stands there with wide eyes like an idiot, panicking internally, thinking back to Isabella and Riley and that Bloomington man as Steve starts to lean closer-

When a tremor sends them falling on their asses, Eddie’s thinking how lucky he is that this happened before Steve’s lips touched his.

They don’t talk about it. It’s been a blur of frantic panic and cold planning to kill Vecna once and for all that Eddie kind of forgets about the incident.

Until he lies bleeding on the frigid ground with Henderson weeping over him, only for Steve’s head to shove into Eddie’s blurry view.

The first thing he feels is Steve’s lips on his, breathing a lungful into his coppery mouth.

Immediately, Eddie jerks away. Stupid flashbacks of spoiled kisses flash before his eyes, which were way worse than his own life.

“Don’t move, idiot!” Steve shouts at him, hands pressing firmly against one of Eddie’s bite wounds on his side.

Eddie tries to say something back, but instead spits out a gross glob of blood and mucus and promptly blacks out.

—

“Any five’s?”

“Go fish.”

Eddie grumbles and drops the cards on his lap, “Now this is unfair. Taking advantage of a hospital patient like this.”

Steve gives an amused huff as he takes Eddie’s cards and reshuffles the deck. It’s been part of a weird routine once Eddie had woke up and slowly regained his motor muscles. Steve visits, they talk about whatever (mostly the kids or Hawkins gossip), play some cards, share a questionably tense staring contest, and Steve leaves.

This time, Steve breaks it and asks, “Are you still okay with me?”

Eddie blinks at him, fighting off exhaustion, “Hm, what?”

Steve just stares down at the cards. “You know that I tried to kiss you. Back at those woods.” He says with clipped words, almost like he’s trying to suck out any hint of emotions. “Just say you’re not comfortable with me and I’ll get out of your hair, man.”

Eddie stares at him. Steve, the man who tried to kiss him once and then again just to save Eddie’s life even as he nearly choked on his own blood. Steve, who does everything for his kids and friends, including Eddie who’s still too new to this shit.

Steve, who sees something desirable in Eddie and wanted to kiss him.

Before Steve can get up, Eddie shifts closer and cups the man’s face with his palm. He closes his eyes, barely catching Steve’s startled look, and leans in.

For a moment, nothing happens. It’s good because nothing is going to be ruined. But then it’s bad because Eddie can feel how stock-still Steve is. However, just as he starts to pull away, Steve seems to spark to life and his lips chases after him. His hand gently grips onto Eddie’s bicep, making Eddie smile at the contact.

As they safely make out in the sterile hospital room without either of them throwing up or freaking out, Eddie mentally gives the finger to the Munson jinx.

#klaus writes #steddieholidaydrabbles #steddie

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wosoamazing · 1 month

Text

How Could You Do That - Too Late To Be Fair Pt.2

Warnings: Cheating, 'details' of kissing, mentions of self doubt, emotional insecurity, swearing, panic attack kind of, let me know if anything else.

A/N: note there has been a small change in Part 1 - more specifically the line that mentions Beth’s ACL and her Mum…. Also lets ignore the big obvious timeline issue - just pretend Leah did her ACL in the past prior to the most recent one, that’s why Beth and Viv weren’t public/known yet (just go along with it lol). Also this did not go where I expected it to go, originally it was very different (which is why I made up a character, but while writing the plan changed it just kind of happened). Last but not least (so much to say lol) do you want a part 3?

Your eyes stared at the door so hard you could’ve burned a hole in the door, you had seen a photo, a photo of Leah kissing a girl, no let’s rephrase that, a photo of Leah making out very heavily with a random girl in a bar, you didn’t even know she went out, you knew she went to dinner thats why you were home and she wasn’t, but out, she hadn’t told you that, let alone the fact that she had plans to kiss a random girl in a bar.

The second you heard keys in the door you bolted up, as the door opened you crossed your arms and glared at her figure walking through.

“Hi baby, everything okay?” she asked clearly tipsy, you felt as though literal steam was coming out of your ears, you were so unbelievably mad at her, angry with her.

“I cant fucking believe you, after everything you said to me, just three days ago,”

“What are you on about?”

“Oh yeah, like you can fucking forget making out with someone. Probably happened under an hour ago right?”

“I didn’t mean to.”

“Oh like that is a fucking excuse,” “Let me explain,” “There is nothing to explain, I know everything. You lied to me, honestly youre an impressive liar but thats not the fucking point. The fucking point is that three days ago you promised you were in this for the long run, that you weren’t like the others, that you would never hurt me. I believed you, I believed you were different Leah, I really did. But now we are standing here.” you stormed out the door and slammed it. Hot angry tears falling down your face, you jumped into your car and left, yet again finding yourself in the same position, driving to the one person you could actually trust.

____

You knocked on Beth’s door, often you would just let yourselves into each other;s houses, but there was an extra car in the driveway.

“Beth,” you cried out as you knocked on the door again, more desperately.

“Y/N, coming, are you okay?” her words caused your hot angry tears to turn into big fat hurt tears.

“Shit, Y/N/N come here” Beth said as she opened the door, wrapping her arms around your body, she continued to hold you as she moved to sit on the couch with you “what happened?”.

“S-she k-kissed someone,” “who?” “L-Le-Leah, a-an” you just pulled out your phone and showed the photo.

“I’m going to fucking kill her.” Beth was furious, “I” you tried to speak but your words were choked by the sobs that racked your body, your hands shook for anger whilst the rest of your body shook from your sobs, your chest felt tight, your head felt foggy, “ It's okay. I’m here, I’ve got you. You’re okay,” with every passing minute you felt your chest grow tighter, until you were struggling to breath.

“Y/N, it's okay, can you try and take a deep breath for me?” you shook your head “Viv, can you grab my water bottle,” Viv came running out of Beth’s bedroom, freezing briefly as you both made eye contact before handing the bottle to Beth, and returning to the bedroom. Beth handed you the water bottle, her eyes still intently watching you, you knew what she wanted you to do, you took some small sips trying to regulate yourself slightly, “that's it, deep breath, in, 2, 3, 4, out ,2, 3, 4, again.” Beth’s gaze left you briefly as she turned to see Viv who was leaving, she gave Viv a sorry look before returning her focus back to you, you had calmed down more, you moved to lean against her side, Beth felt the slow shift in your breaths, going from rapid and uneven, to slow and even, she knew you were asleep, but she still didn't move, not wanting to leave you considering how vulnerable you were.

____

“Y/N,” you heard Beth’s soft voice as she shook your body slightly, “I’m going to make dinner, thought you might want to sit and chat.” Sitting and chatting over dinner cooking was something you often did, both debriefing events in your lives over cooking a meal. One of you would cook and the other would sit and watch, you would talk, just about anything and everything.

“Yeah, sounds good, I’m just going to go to the bathroom quickly,” she nodded, before she made her way into the kitchen.

“I don't understand,” you said as you slid onto the kitchen bench.

“Honestly neither do I. I can't believe she did that, she made it seem like you were her whole world, I got a different vibe this time.”

“No, I don't understand why Viv was here” you ask, because in all fairness you didn’t, your words caused Beth to blush.

“I think we have more important things to discuss than that” “Like how you are absolutely torturing that meat,” she gave you a look, as you back of the bench, you playfully shoved her out of the way, and you switched positions, “or do you mean how my girlfriend had her tongue down the throat of a complete stranger,” “the second one”.

“I don’t know, I just don’t get it, can you grab the cream, she came in so sweet and innocent, I’ve seen her walk through that door when she needs to tell me something and that wasn't it. I don’t think she had plans to tell me.”

“So why was Viv here, we have discussed the more important thing now,” you smirked at Beth.

“I don’t, I just feel close to her, she is really nice, I think I might like her, but I’m not sure.”

“Never been the best at navigating our feelings have we Beth,”

“Hey, at least Dan broke up with me before her mouth was on others,” Beth noticed how your body tensed, “too soon?”

“Too soon?” you said as you nodded agreeing with her.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to,” she leant closer to you to pull you into a hug.

“Beth!” you screeched as some of her pasta fell out of her bowl onto your pants. “Oh sorry,” she said as she sat back up before using her fork to eat the bits of pasta off your leg, causing you both to fall into fits of laughter.

____

“I mean she won’t even hear my side of the story, its like I’m speaking to a blank wall” Leah, your now ex said as the arsenal girls were out for dinner, a dinner you were absent for not wanting to have to face Leah or the awkwardness.

“Yeah because there is a photo of you making out with another girl in a bar, in addition to the fact you went with none of us and she didn’t even know you were going out out” Katie said.

“I told her, I regretted it the second I did it, the girl asked me if I wanted to go home with her and I said no I have a girlfriend I shouldn't be doing this.” Leah explained her side, trying to defend herself, she was right she had told you that, showing up the next day at Beth’s house, but you didn't believe her and just shut the door in her face to stop her talking.

“But Leah, you don't understand how many times people have done this to her, lulled her into a sense of security and then ripped the rug out from under her. How many times the other side of the story has been that they realised how much reassurance and love she needed and then left, and after what happened the other day I’m not surprised, you literally betrayed every single thing you said to her. Everything you said to her that night you threw out the window the second your lips touched that girl’s lips, let alone when your tongue went in.” Beth defended your honour.

“So the believing I don't love her won't go away, even with what I said the other night.”

“It gets better over time, I mean she doesn’t question me anymore but then again, I’ve never made out with a random girl at the bar just days after I told a girl she was my everything and I would never leave her or hurt her. A girl who is emotionally broken due to her childhood by the way.”

“So the insecurities will never go away, I don't know if I can handle that, always being questioned.” Leah continued, when she really shouldn’t have kept going on.

“Fucking hell Leah, you’re in the wrong here, and you’re concerned about your feelings in a relation with a girl who you have just completely destroyed. So no. No you won't have to handle that ever. If that’s how you are thinking, go. Go far away from her, never talk to her again, you can’t be thinking that.” Beth stood up, and turned away from the table before turning back to Leah, “How have you gone from this girl being your entire world to oh it might be too much overnight, or was it not overnight have you just been leading her on, using her until you could find your next girlfriend.” Beth stormed out, so glad that you weren't there, she now knows how Leah really felt, but also she didn't know what might’ve happened if you were there.

“You’re never talking to her again, I’m not letting her near you.” Beth said as she marches through the door of her apartment.

“Why” you paused the TV, standing up and walking over to her.

“She said she didn't know if she could deal with your constant questioning of yourself and her,” “What?” “She asked if you not 100% believing her would go away, I’m sorry” Beth’s voice broke with her last two words, she just couldn’t believe how many people had done this, and now one of her close friends, she just couldn't understand why they were doing it, you were perfect, smart, caring, talented, pretty and so much more, briefly Beth was wrapped up by her thoughts before she heard you sniff, she quickly escaped her thoughts as she saw a tear rolled down your cheek, followed by many more, they were small soft tears, tears coming from a very deep down broken place. Beth went to hug you, but you pulled away, just had just received confirmation that people really did believe your insecurities and hurt and trauma were a burden, even if they didn't say it to your face.

“No, I’m a burden, don’t worry, I know you would much rather be doing something else.” you began to walk away but Beth grabbed your hand, stopping you, before pulling you back, the action causing your body to collide with hers, causing you to be pressed up against her front, you could feel her warm breath on your cheek. A rush of something ran through you, the feeling unknown but in a good way. Her fingers intertwined with yours, she wiped your tears with her other hand, before it found a place on your lower hip, fitting perfectly. Her eyes darted from yours to your lips and back to yours, you hadn't pulled away yet, you didn't want to, but you didn’t have feelings for each other right.

#woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #arsenal wfc #awfc x reader #awfc #leah williamson x reader #beth mead x reader

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the-oblivious-writer · 7 months

Text

Let The Light In |5|

Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Chapter Five: Shit-faced

Summary: It's been weeks and Tara was still avoiding you, but that doesn't stop you from looking out for her

Warning(s): Swearing, smoking, mentions of underage drinking, intoxication & panic attack

Notes: I reaaally hope this suffices. I tried my best, I swear. I think this is the longest chap I've done for this series so far (5,162 words, usually it's right under 5k words) Shoutout to @iamnodens for giving me some inspiration. Sparked an idea for a plot-line I wanna pursue

Masterlist|Previous Part|Next Part

Anika saw you check your phone for the millionth time that night. “Come on, this is supposed to be a movie night. Not ‘check your phone a million times’ night,” Anika spoke up. You faced your phone back down.

“Sorry,” you mumbled. Anika looked over at you then back at the TV before speaking again. “Who has you so anxious?” She asked and you rolled your eyes.

“No one,” you say in a dry tone before grabbing the popcorn bowl and shoving a handful in your mouth. Your roommate let out a doubtful hum before turning her attention back to the TV.

Your right leg began to bounce as your thoughts once again led you to an overthinking spiral. It didn’t take long for you to think of the worst. You didn’t want Tara to never talk to you again. As much as you hated to admit it; along the way you started to enjoy Tara’s company.

There were times where she could brighten your mood when no one else could. Tara may not have known, but the weekend you were in Brooklyn you were having a panic attack when she messaged you.

Texting back and forth with Tara seemed to eventually calm you down. You would never forget that moment, and although the younger Carpenter had no idea how much she had helped you, you knew.

“If you bounce your leg any harder you’ll put a hole through the floor,” Anika remarked, pulling you from your memories. “Sorry,” you muttered back.

“Don’t be…what’s got you like this huh?” You start to play with your fingers. You sighed, debating whether or not you wanted to open up to Anika.

“It’s just that– girl from before still hasn’t talked to me and I guess you were right; it’s a hundred percent getting to me.”

Anika raised her eyebrows at you before responding,“She really must be if you’re admitting you were wrong. Have you tried confronting her about it?”

You let out a frustrated huff. “She always swerves away from me. I sent a text but I don’t wanna seem desperate.” You looked at Anika to see her giving you a deadpan look. “What?” You asked, feeling clueless.

She sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose before answering. “Okay, listen up. I know you have never been a bright communicator, but come on. Only sending one text? At this point you might as well just corner her if you refuse to send her no more than that,” she chuckled dryly.

You sat there, genuinely considering that as an option. Anika watched as you thought about it and started to shake her head at you. “Y/N…no. I didn’t mean to literally corner her.”

“Fine.”

—

You patted your hands dry in the restaurant’s restroom. You looked in the mirror—making sure you were put together before walking out—but then suddenly saw a familiar face in your reflection. It was only for a moment but in that single moment you felt your breathing grow ragged, heart racing and stood frozen. You tightly gripped the counter, closing your eyes and murmuring to yourself.

“He’s not here. He’s not here. He’s not here. It’s all in your head. It’s all in your hea—”

“Y/N?” You heard. You exhaled and turned to face the voice.

No, no, no, no…Why is she here?

“Tara.” You replied, you were on the brink of tears as you tried to control your breathing. She quickly noticed the state you were in and carefully walked up to you. You took one step back, moving away from her. She looked at you again before gently placing a hand on your bicep.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Tara asked you in a gentle voice.

“Fine.” You murmured before quickly walking out of the bathroom. You ignored the worried glances you received from Henry and Anika, walking outside and leaning against a pillar.

You tried everything; you closed your eyes and focused on your breathing, you counted, and even tried the three three three rule. But nothing was working. You felt your right hand creep up your chest as it subconsciously gripped it. Your knees felt weak, as if they would buckle from under you.

You fumbled in your pocket for a cigarette and lighter. You held the smoked cigarette to your lips, breathing it in and out. Your free hand’s fingers anxiously tapped on your thigh as you smoked. You felt like the world would collapse from beneath you, nothing to catch or save you. You started going down another spiral when suddenly you heard someone.

“Hey…” You looked to your left to see Tara once again.

“I swear I didn’t know you were gonna be here. Sam and I just decided to eat out since it’s not everyday she gets off from both jobs.” Tara said, moving to lean beside you.

“That’s nice,” you replied, putting out your cigarette and throwing it.

“Yeah…it is.” Tara smiled to herself as she said that. “Are you doing a little better now?” She asked you with a light nudge to your shoulder as she looked up at you.

“I guess.” Was all you answered with. Tara slightly nodded, before looking back ahead.

After a couple minutes of silence, you finally spoke up. “Why’ve you been ignoring me?” You asked without looking at her, your voice quiet. You looked down at your shoes, both hands in your pockets.

“I haven’t been…” Tara trailed off. She knew she was. She was fully aware of it. But, she wasn’t ready to tell you why.

“Yeah…okay,” you sighed, lifting yourself up from the pillar.

“See you around, Carpenter.” You made your way back into the restaurant. Tara stayed outside a little longer before going back to her own table.

You both glanced at each other from across the room while the other wasn’t looking.

—

You sat on the random couch while wearing a grumpy expression. Henry had, once again, dragged you to another party. The place was too crowded, sweat was everywhere, the burning smell of the alcohol was stronger than usual—to you at least—and Henry had gone off to God knows where. You just wanted out of this frat house.

The only thing keeping you sane was the company of Anika and Mindy. You didn’t talk to Mindy much in high school but she seemed cool. Anika and her were discussing couples costumes for halloween when suddenly you heard your name.

“What do you think, Y/N?” Your roommate asked as she sat in her girlfriend's lap on the love seat beside you.

“What do I think about what?”

“You think we could rock a zombie bride and groom for a couples costume this year?” Mindy asked for Anika.

“Yeah, you’d guys be awesome for that,” you answered in a monotone voice. You didn’t look at them as you spoke, staring off at a random spot in the room. Suddenly your eyes caught something that made your breath catch in your throat.

“Y/N? What’s the matter?” Anika asked. Mindy also furrowed her eyebrows at you, but then all their answers were answered when they followed your eye line.

There Chad was with his tongue down Tara’s throat.

There was no reason to have cared as much as you did. There was no reason the pain in your chest should be growing. There’s no reason for this to hit you as hard as it did. You and Tara weren’t dating, you didn’t like her—no, you didn’t. You couldn’t. You were just caught off guard. Yeah, that’s it. You never thought about Chad and Tara together so you’re just in some form of shock.

What about the chest pain? The feeling of your heart being ripped out–

Heartburn.

It was just heartburn, that was all it was. Nothing more, nothing less.

Suddenly you felt a hand touch your arm. You lightly flinch before looking to your left, seeing it was Anika. Why did they both look at you with such pity?

“Hey, how about we call it a night, yeah?” You nodded.

After Mindy and Anika kissed each other goodbye, you two started to make your way out before a thought told you to reach into your pocket. Empty.

“I think my phone slipped out of my pocket while I was sitting on the couch,” You told Anika and she waited in the car as you went inside to get it.

By the time you got back to the couch somebody was already sitting, and of course it had to be Tara. “Looking for this?” she smugly asked, pulling out your phone and showing it to you.

You let out a sigh of relief before trying to reach for your phone, but the minute you almost grab it, Tara pulls it back behind her back.

“Tara, not right now.” You really weren’t in the mood for this.

You sighed as you saw multiple stains on her shirt. “Someone’s in a mood,” she remarked, still looking up at you with a smile you couldn’t quite read.

“I’m not—” you sighed again, “—you have stains all over your shirt by the way. You’re a complete mess right now,” you murmured the last part, sitting down next to her trying to reach for your phone behind her but she’s quick. She pulls away again without thinking before responding.

“You know you pronounce your R’s in a funny way? Like, you say stuff like shirts and shorts but when you say them they sound the exact same. And then it’s, like, which one is it?” Tara rambled on.

You sat there, silently listening to every single word. You couldn’t help the slight smile that grazed your face. It was nice hearing her voice again after so long.

“Then I remembered you’re from Brooklyn, and you know what that means?”

“No, tell me,” you said, wanting to hear her ramble for a little longer.

“Brooklyn accent. So, that’s why you do that cute thing with your R’s!” You suddenly felt heat rush to your cheeks. Cute? Tara had used you and cute in the same sentence. She is completely plastered.

“Tara! Ethan and I are gonna play beer pong!” You both looked over to see Chad calling from the other side of the room.

You looked back at Tara, “I should go. See you, princess.” You got up, but suddenly felt a hand gently grasp your wrist. You looked down at her as you stood. She opened her mouth for a couple seconds before shutting it.

“You probably need this,” Tara pulled out your phone and placed it in your hand for you. The amount of contact she was giving you caused a flutter in your chest.

“I’m probably gonna head home,” she slurred. You bit the inside of your cheek as you grew concerned about her going home on her own in the state she was in.

“Mindy said you drove with Chad?”

“Mm, yeah. He doesn’t mind me driving myself home though. He said he’d—” she hiccupped, “—get a ride with Ethan.”

“Well I do mind. You’re too drunk to drive Tara.” She just stared up at you as you spoke. “You can stay over,” you lightly sighed as you offered your hand to her.

Tara bit her lip as she continued to stare up at you, but after a beat of silence she took your hand—not without tripping, causing her to fall into your arms.

“You okay?” You asked in a soft voice, and she simply nodded her head as she continued to look at you.

Tara had so much to tell you, but she stopped herself before she could.

You both walked out to your car—Tara clinging on to your arm as she walked like she had two left feet. You never thought Tara Carpenter could be any more clumsy than she already was, but here you were.

You opened the car door, “Sorry that it took so long.”

“I see you didn’t just bring back your phone,” Anika remarked, not hiding her knowing look. You strapped Tara in the backseat, making sure she was comfortable, before going to the driver’s seat.

“She’s too drunk to be her own ride, so I offered,” you responded. You gave Tara one last glance from the rear view mirror—which didn’t go unnoticed by Anika—to see that Tara was already passed out. You started to pull out and made your way to your apartment. There wasn’t much talking on the ride over. The only sound coming from the car was the music, but even that was put at a low volume. You tried your best to avoid the holes so Tara could sleep fine. You cursed your government for not using your taxes to fill holes with more cement.

By the time you got to your apartment Tara was still sound asleep. You told Anika she could get a head start and that you would catch up with her. After she left you got out of our seat and walked around your car to open the door to Tara’s seat. You placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Tara…we’re here,” you whispered in a soft tone. Tara only shuffled slightly but never opened her eyes. You lightly squeezed her shoulder, “Come on. We’re here…”

You slightly shook your head.

“...You’re so lucky I live on the second floor.” You scooped her up and she subconsciously nuzzled her head in the nook of your neck. You carried her up the apartment stairs, and once you got to the door you knocked with your head—since your hands were obviously full at the moment.

That night, you didn’t mind sleeping on the couch.

—

Tara woke up with a pounding headache, causing her to groan as she slowly sat up. She rubbed her eyes, yawning. Suddenly everything came crashing down on her like a tidal wave.

“Shit shit shit,” she looked around for her phone. She couldn’t believe how stupid she was. Sam was going to kill her for sure—if she was actually home? Yeah…she’s going to kill her for sure.

It didn’t take long for her to realize where she was. “Fuck, not again,” she groaned into her hands.

If Tara had a nickel for everytime she woke up in your bed she would have two nickels—which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it happened twice. Before she could retrace her steps there were two knocks on the door.

“Come in,” She said and you opened the door slightly, peaking your head before fully coming inside.

“Hi.”

“I see you’ve, uh, woken up.” You awkwardly stood with your arms crossed.

“Yeah…”

Tara turned her head, closing her eyes and letting out an inaudible sigh before turning back to look at you. “Listen, I’m sorry this is, like, the second time. You shouldn’t have to take care of me while I’m shitfaced.”

You slightly pouted out your bottom lip, faintly shaking your head and waving her off.

“No problem.”

After a moment you finally break the awkward silence, “Why do you do this?”

“What?”

“This? Go out to parties so often, and have drink after drink?” Tara furrowed her eyebrows at you, not understanding where you were going with this.

“What do you mean by that?” She asked, feeling offended by the question.

“I just mean, don’t you get tired of it?”

Tara let out a faint scoff, “I like my life, thank you very much.” She now sat up a little straighter as she looked at you from where you stood.

“I didn’t mean it like that. Come on, Tara—you know that.”

“No, I don’t actually,” Tara got up from your bed, making her way to the door. She reached for the handle but you blocked it.

“Stop it, Y/N.”

“No, you stop it. What’s your problem, Carpenter? You really think I wouldn’t notice you ignoring me?”

Tara opened her mouth to speak but you quickly cut her off. “You even changed your seat in history. How is that nothing?” You hated how vulnerable you felt right now. The hurt was noticeable in your voice.

“I– I just need space…” Tara sighed, running her hands down her space.

“What—why? ...Did I do something?” You asked, feeling yourself grow smaller as she looked back at you.

Tara saw you staring down at her like a lost puppy. She hated what that was doing to her. She hated how you were able to make her feel things so easily.

“No! No, I just need space, okay? Not everything’s about you!” Her raised voice caused you to flinch and take a step back; Tara hated herself at that moment.

“Okay,” you replied in a quiet voice.

“Y/N I didn’t—”

“If you need anything, Anika’s up.”

Before Tara could say anything, you were gone.

—

You knew very little about the person who now sat where Tara previously did. Tara either paid her to switch or the woman really just didn’t mind. You haven’t introduced yourself to her yet.

You heard her name being called once; Charlotte. You were too stubborn to actually ask her for her name. It didn’t take long for Charlotte to pick up on your silence. Truth be told she noticed you in class before. So when Tara approached her about a seat change, she asked no further questions and agreed.

“Hey,” Charlotte finally spoke up one class. “I’m Charlotte, by the way.” You turned your head slightly to look at her. There was no denying her beauty.

“Y/N,” you simply responded before turning back to your notes. Charlotte turned back to her own work while she mustered her next words.

“So, you’re not much of a talker huh,” she nervously chuckled. You looked at her from the corner of your eye before averting your stare back to your notes. “I guess,” you murmured.

Throughout class you resisted looking back at Tara, and occasionally Charlotte would miss something so she would politely ask you for your notes, which you then would silently turn your papers for her to see.

You kept your head down and didn’t meet her gaze as you did this, but if you did you would have seen her warm smile; in a way you felt it.

After class you heard footsteps running up to you. You turned around to see Charlotte. “I just wanted to thank you for the notes,” she told you.

You spared a faint smile before responding, “No problem.” You watched as she took out a little piece of paper and handed it to you. When you took it you could see numbers written on it.

“I’d love to thank you over a cup of coffee or even dinner or something. That’s my number, so you can call or text whenever you want.” You lightly nodded at her as you looked at the paper.

“See you around, Y/N,” she smiled at you again before taking off.

“What do we have here?” The voice causes you to jump a bit, before rolling your eyes when you see the culprit.

“Geez, Anika. Quit sneakin’ up on my like that,” you sighed as you two started walking.

“Maybe if you were more self aware, you would notice your friend being right next to you,” Anika commented.

“Whatever.”

“Anyways, who was that?”

“Just some chick from my history class,” you said in a nonchalant manner.

“Does she happen to have your…interest?” She asked you with a quirked up eyebrow.

You thought for a second before answering. “I guess.”

“ ‘I guess’? Gee. How descriptive.” Anika remarked sarcastically. You rolled your eyes at her, adjusting the strap of your bag.

“I don’t know, okay? I’m still figuring some shit out, but maybe I do.” You shrugged, you and Anika taking a turn.

“By ‘figuring shit out’ do you mean, Tara?” She asked knowingly. That made you do a double take at your roommate.

“That’s ridiculous,” you scoffed dramatically.

“You know I overheard that argument you two had, right?”

“I don’t know exactly what you heard but it’s not what you think,” you sighed, eyes looking everywhere but Anika. You hated when she was right.

“Really? Cause’ it seems like she’s the girl that has you so worked up.”

“Stop it.” You said with annoyance in your tone, growing slightly flustered from being called out.

—

You sat at the seat across from Charlotte . You both eventually had decided to go out on Friday night for dinner. You figured it wouldn’t hurt to take up her offer. So, that’s where you were; sitting in a diner with her across from you.

Your hands rested on your lap as you listened to her speak. She had cinnamon skin, gorgeous hair and dark brown eyes. You couldn’t help but admire dark brown eyes; they were so easy to drown in.

“So, enough about me. What about you?” She suddenly asked.

“What about me?” You echoed, taking a sip of your milkshake.

“I want to get to know you. Right now you’re just the quiet girl who I sit next to in history, and cute at that,” she winked at you.

You lightly blushed at the compliment before replying. “I don’t really know what to say. Mind giving me some starter questions?”

“Okay, you got any siblings?”

“Yup. Two brothers, Stephen and Oliver.”

“You like them?”

“Tolerate’ em.”

She let out a giggle before continuing. “Are you the oldest or youngest?”

“I’m in the middle, actually. Oliver’s the oldest and Stephen’s the youngest.”

You soon found out she had two sisters and two brothers, both her parents were doctors, and her favorite color’s purple. As the night went on you two found out a little more about one another. It was nice just talking. You weren’t sure if this was a date but the thought hung around in your head.

Would it be so bad if it was?

You walked the city’s streets with Charlotte, your jacket hung from your arm as she hugged her own closely.

“This was really nice, I’d love to do it again sometime,” She spoke up.

You looked at her then back at the ground, a small smile starting to graze your face.

“Yeah…that’d be nice,” You said genuinely, before she stopped at an apartment building.

“Well, this is me.”

“I’ll see you around?”

“Of course,” she smiled at you, placing a kiss on your cheek.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” she said before leaving.

You stood there, slightly stunned from the kiss. It was no secret that it had been a while since you’ve been in a genuine relationship.

Maybe—just maybe, Charlotte could be the one to change that.

—

The next day you went to work your shift. You passed the time like you usually did; if you weren’t serving customers you had music in your ears and cleaning counters that you’ve already wiped down a hundred times before that same day.

The bell above the door rings, but you don’t look up as you say, “Welcome to The Coffee Club.” Your voice was monotone.

The person stopped in their tracks as soon as they saw you. It wasn’t until they were shoved to the counter by someone beside them that you looked up.

You opened your mouth as you lifted your head, but quickly shut it as soon you saw the person.

“Oh. It’s you.” Your voice wasn’t laced with bitterness or rudeness, just a slight shock from seeing her here. If your voice was not a give away of that then your expression definitely was. Your eyes were widened a bit, your eyebrows were raised and you almost looked…flushed?

“Uh, what can I get you?” You asked, clearing your throat and trying to sound unfazed by her presence.

“Um, just a…” Tara trailed off as she suddenly forgot what she came here for. Mindy looked between you two.

“Hot chocolate?” You finished for Tara. All Tara could do was nod at you.

“And I’ll have a hot coffee; milk and sugar please,” Mindy spoke up, breaking whatever staring contest you and Tara had going on.

“I’ll, uh, get on that right now.” You put your pen behind your ear. Tara and Mindy sat at a table nearby as you prepared their orders.

“What was that?”

Tara groaned at her friend, holding her face with her hands. “I don’t know. I had completely forgotten she works here most days,” she answered, her voice coming out slightly muffled due to her hand still covering her face.

“You’re still giving her the silent treatment, aren’t you?” Mindy asked even though she already knew the answer.

“Well, I uh…kind of made it worse…”

“How?” Mindy asked, slightly dragging out the H while furrowing her eyebrows.

“We had a bit of an argument last week,” Tara answered, the memories of that morning painfully flashing through her mind.

“About what?”

“I snapped at her over something really stupid, and—God I can’t stop thinking about her face when I did that.” Tara let out a breath she didn’t even realize she was holding in.

“By snapped, what do you mean, like, you yelled at her or something?” Tara sighed and nodded, looking away—feeling ashamed of herself.

“I think you two just need to talk, for real this time.”

“I don’t want to—” She inhaled, looking down at her hands.

“Don’t want to what?”

“Hurt her again…” Tara answered in a quiet voice.

“Tar, listen to me, you’re one of the best people I know, and you can be gentle when you want to be. Just be you,” Mindy told her honestly.

“Maybe when you two finally make up you can make that dream you had a reality and make out already—”

“Mindy!”

Before Tara could say anything else, you walked up to the table with their drinks.

“One hot coffee with milk and sugar, and a hot chocolate,” you repeated their order. Mindy said thank you, and so did Tara—not without Mindy kicking her under the table to do so—before taking a sip of the steaming hot drink.

The mug covered her eye line, so she didn’t see you sneak a Strawberry donut with sprinkles—or as she likes to call it, a Homer Simpson donut—in front of her. By the time she did notice you were already gone.

You had a habit of disappearing without saying goodbye.

When Mindy and Tara finished, they made their way back to the apartment. They walked into the apartment to find Chad and Ethan playing Resident Evil four.

“You’re still playing this game?” Tara inquired, pulling off her jacket and throwing it somewhere. Mindy let out a slight chuckle before making her way to the kitchen.

“All. Fucking. Day.” Sam replied, coming into the living room.

“I don’t blame them. Have you seen Ada?”

“They haven’t gotten up in seven hours.”

“I got it,” was all Tara said, before walking away.

Five seconds later she came back with a spray bottle.

—

The doorbell rings, interrupting you mid sentence as you were on the phone with Anika.

“Hey, I gotta go. Talk to ya later?” You said your goodbyes to each other before walking up to the door. You weren’t sure who could be visiting but whoever it was was growing impatient.

“Alright, alright! I’m coming,” you called out, walking up to the door.

You finally unlocked and opened it to—unexpectedly—Tara. This took you by surprise which was evident from your expression. There wasn’t much to go off from but Tara’s known you long enough to read even your littlest details.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” There was a beat of awkward silence before Tara finally spoke up again.

“Can I come in? I need to talk to you,” she told you. You responded by opening the door wider, letting her inside the apartment.

Her eyes wandered around the room before landing them back on you. You quickly averted your gaze, realizing you have been staring at the younger Carpenter a little too long.

“Been a while since I’ve been here,” Tara said, sitting down on the couch.

You let out a dry chuckle before responding. “You’re telling me…”

Tara noticed you were still standing, choosing to lean against the wall rather than sit near her. Just then, she remembered why she came here.

“So, what do you want?” You asked unkindly.

Tara took a second to muster what she wanted to say. She didn’t want to mess this up. She didn’t want to say the wrong thing this time.

She didn’t want to hurt you again.

“I’m sorry.”

“What?” You raised an eyebrow, not expecting an apology.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you, and I’m sorry for blatantly avoiding you for the past few weeks,” she said in one breath.

“Wait—I wasn’t expecting an apology. I thought you were gonna yell at me again or something,” you poorly joked with a dry chuckle.

“That wasn’t my best moment,” she said with shame in her voice. She could never forget your face that morning or how you backed away from her as if she would hurt you.

You looked down at your shoes, considering Tara’s words. You should get your revenge—make her pay for the past few weeks. But instead you decided against it, for whatever reason, you decided against it. Maybe it was her voice as she spoke, maybe it was the bags under her eyes, or maybe it was just simply her. Whatever it was, it caused you to let her off easy.

“I’ll accept your apology on one condition.”

“Anything,” Tara replied, a little too quickly.

“Stop avoiding me,” you said in a softer voice, and you slowly began to take the seat beside her.

“Deal,” Tara promised, looking at you.

“Pinky swear?” You held up your pinky, for her take.

Tara couldn’t help the smile that grew as she took your pink in hers.

“Pinky swear.”

“Now that you’re not avoiding me anymore, you wanna go over last class’s notes?” Already moving on as if she hadn’t been giving you the silent treatment for the past for weeks, and you weren’t still curious as to why.

Your pinkies unlocked, Tara missing the contact.

“Well, you know how much I looove doing that,” Tara sarcastically answered.

“Ha. Ha.” You got up from the couch, “I’m gonna go get my binder. Give me like two seconds.” You said before rushing away to your room like a child who was having a playdate, rushing off to grab a toy for you and your friend to play with.

Tara couldn’t stop smiling to herself at the sight of you. It had been far too long since she’s seen you one on one like this. She hated to admit it but she missed you more than she realized. Now that she was thinking about it, she missed a lot of things about you; your smile, your voice, your humor, how you lit up a room with just your presence, even that fuzzy feeling you gave her.

Oh.

Oh, Mindy was right. Tara had somehow found herself crushing on you.

“Fuck.”

-----------

A/N: Platonic!Chara>>> (dw gonna do that justice later)

I wonder who R saw in the mirror...

Taglist: @t-wylia @lesbianpepsi @jennasfav @alyciaddict @justafoolinlove @steffido1993 @niqmandu @severelyuniquereview @darklron @ravenousinferno @smut-religiously777 @beautifulmongerbanditsalad @vanatalye @alexkolax @andsoigotabutterfly

#tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x y/n #tara carpenter x female reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #scream #scream 6 #let the light in au

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tomkaulitzssgirl · 8 months

Note

I have a request :) tom kaulitz x female reader where she had a really bad day and he comes home from the studio and finds her crying, so they have really sweet comfort sex. Thank you<3

make you forget | tom kaulitz

warnings: degrading thoughts, panic attack

you sat down on your bed, lazily taking off your work clothes and putting on your pyjamas, a pair of shorts and a top. usually, this was your favourite part of the day after work.

coming home, taking a shower and changing before waiting for your boyfriend to come home. but today was different, you just wanted to go to sleep.

work had been terrible, your boss had been so hard on you and nothing you did seemed to get him satisfied. he praised your colleague and degraded you infront of her, embarrassing you even more.

you kept thinking about it as you did everything you liked, during the shower, the skincare, while you were making you and tom some food, that you ended up not even eating.

were you wasting your time doing this job? you loved it but it seemed like you weren’t appreciated enough and instead of making you feel good it made you suffer.

a loud sigh escaped from your lips as you brushed your hair infront of the mirror and before you knew, you had enough. you began to cry, placing one hand against your mouth to contain your sobs.

it was a cry of relief but also desperation, for every negative thoughts you had. you thought that you weren’t enough, that everything you did wasn’t worthy, that tom deserved better, someone just as famous as him maybe and not a simple girl who couldn’t get anything right.

your trembling body sat down on the bed, and you tried to calm yourself down but to no avail.

all of a sudden the door opened and a worried tom came in, “baby you’re here, i called you but you didn’t - hey, what’s wrong?”

he became even more worried at the sight of you having a literal panic attack. you were hyperventilating, looking at a point straight head, looking like you were about to faint.

“hey, hey y/n, don’t fucking play with me.” his voice was filled with fear as he rushed to the bed and took you in his arms, looking down at you with eyebrows furrowed.

your crying started again when your head touched his chest and he breathed out heavily, frustration taking over him. he didn’t want to see you sad, ever.

“shh, it’s okay, it’s okay…” he said with a soft tone, stroking your back gently, but you shook your head.

“no it’s not! it’s not okay, i-i am nothing but a failure! i don’t even know why you love me at this point because i’m worth nothing.” you started rambling never making eye contact with him but he cut you off before you could continue, taking your face in his hands.

“what the fuck are you talking about? stop saying these things and just talk to me. what happened?” he wanted to know why you were so upset and talking down on yourself when usually you were always a positive person.

“m-my boss hates me. he told me how i can’t do anything he asks me for and how simply i should just quit. i’m just wasting my time, i’m doing nothing good with my life.” tears kept streaming down your face and your head started to hurt from the crying.

you went back to hide against his chest, almost ashamed of what you had said. he hugged you tighter, kissing the top of your head.

“baby, you know that’s not true. your boss is a fucking asshole who thinks he’s better than everyone and you really should quit but not because you’re not capable, but because you deserve better. you don’t need all this stress in your life, you’re amazing, smart, creative, you could have anything you want, don’t fucking say that shit again, okay? i don’t wanna heart it.” you let him comfort you, his words meaning the most to you. tom was literally the rock in your life, your home, your safe place.

“t-tom?” you called him after some minutes of silence.

“mh?” he hummed as he kept cuddling you, inhaling your sweet vanilla scent.

“can we…” you didn’t know how to ask. it felt wrong in that moment, after all that sad stuff you said, but you just needed to feel him and comfort you in the way you guys loved the most. tom seemed to catch on what you wanted to say immediately.

“are you sure?” he was ready to give you what you wanted.

you nodded, “please…” your pleading was enough to turn him on, “but be gentle…”

you made him understand that you didn’t want that rough sex you guys always had, you needed just a sweet moment, to feel loved.

tom nodded and carefully placed you on the bed, getting on top of you. he began kissing every inch of your body, from your neck to your thighs.

“you’re perfect.” he would whisper a compliment every time his lips met your skin. he quickly removed everything you were wearing, doing that also with his clothes. only the clothing of your underwear were separating your bodies.

he quickly turned you on your side, placing himself behind you.

you didn’t know what he was doing but let him be, not wanting to think about anything, just enjoying his touch.

you felt him remove his member out of his boxers, before he moved your panties aside. he proceeded to insert himself inside you, wrapping his arms protectively around you.

you struggled to breathe at the feeling, closing your eyes with a low moan. tom started thrusting in you slowly but passionately, kissing your neck and shoulder.

“i love you.” he whispered, his hand going down between your thighs so he could play with your clit and give you even more pleasure.

he wanted to make you forget everything that happened that day, even if that meant fucking you all night. not that he would complain.

“i-i love you too.” you mumbled rolling your eyes back with a much louder moan when his fingers added to the mix of pleasure. he knew your body, he knew where to go and touch to make you go crazy.

“touch yourself.” he ordered with a shaky breath as your walls wrapped around him so well.

you bit down your lip, kinda unsure of doing that infront of him, but he grabbed your hand and took it down to your core. he held that still there as you started moving your fingers, his gaze burning on you.

“so fucking hot.” tom let out a rough grunt, he never saw you doing that and in that moment he decided that he should make you do that more.

the hand that was touching you before moved to your breast, squeezing it as he breathe down your neck heavily. his hips were pressed against your back, making you feel every inch of him.

suddenly you felt him twice inside you and that took you to clench around him, a desperate, filthy noise seemingly to a cry escaping your parted lips.

tears began to stream down your face, the release you much needed almost arriving, not only physical but emotional.

“it’s okay baby, i know.” tom whispered when he heard you, kissing the side of your forehead, “come with me., sweet girl.”

your arched your back as you came with a choked up whine, feeling him release inside you with a low growl, his liquid coming down your thighs.

you both were panting, just laying there as tom kept on spooning you. your eyes were closed, salty tears on your face. he wiped them away before kissing your cheek.

you smiled softly taking his hand in yours, wanting to be as close to him as you could.

“are you okay?” he asked, still inside you. he kinda didn’t want to pull out.

“yes, thank you tom, i love you.” you let him know how greatful you were, even just for his presence.

“i love you too baby, you don’t need to thank me. and don’t worry, i’ll deal with your boss personally tomorrow.” he stroked your thigh, before covering both of your bodies with the bedsheet. you didn’t say anything, too tired to even realize what he said.

you noticed how he was still inside you and pressed your lips together. “uhm, t-tom…”

he knew what were you about to say. “i wanna sleep like this.”

you blushed letting out a squeal when he brought you closer to his chest, making him chuckle.

“it’s gonna be a looong night.” he sang out, before sighing and closing his eyes, both of you falling asleep peacefully.

#tokio hotel #tokiohotel #tom kaulitz #writing #fandom #fanfic #masterlist #tom kaulitz x you #tom kaulitz imagines #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz x y/n #tokio hotel fanfic #tokio hotel tom kaulitz #tokio hotel smut

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jupitercomet · 5 months

Note

omg def not trying to push this on you in any way but a marine biologist reader would be soo cool! like if she found out about nemo and got understandably more freaked out than the other characters and bradleys just calming her down and asking her to talk to him about sharks to keep her mind off mermaids existing eeee

okay so this is just a concept (!!) so don't hold me to it, but I thought this was a cute scenario so:

“So she— Oh my god—” The room feels like it’s shrinking and, even though you’re breathing, it feels like no air is making it into your lungs. “Bradley, she’s— She has a— Oh my god!”

You stumble back, away from the bathtub with a literal mermaid in it, and into Bradley’s firm chest. The rest of his friends are watching you hesitantly, and you might be embarrassed about how you were acting if you weren’t on the verge of a panic attack, but right now you can’t even begin to think about the impression you’re leaving on his friends. The mermaid—Nemo has the decency to look worried about you, so at least there’s that.

“She’s a mermaid,” Bradley tries to affirm cheerfully, holding you up in his tanned arms so you don’t collapse. “But it’s really not a big deal.” He forces a laugh. “Honestly, I forget most of the time.”

You shake your head vigorously. “I just thought she was from a different country. She— She is, right? You guys are just playing a prank on me. Because mermaids aren’t real. How could they be real? This isn’t—” Your head snaps up suddenly, looking at the group accusingly. “And her name is Nemo? What kind of sick joke is that?!”

Before anyone has the chance to say anything, Bradley is suddenly lifting you up with an awkward chuckle. “Okay, I think that’s enough exposure for one day. We’re just gonna talk in the living room for a bit as she processes this.” He gives his friends a nod and then he’s hauling you out of the bathroom and carrying you down the stairs.

“Am I dreaming?” You ask through gasping breaths. “I have to be dreaming, right?”

“You’re having a panic attack, honey.” Bradley sets you down on the couch gently, squeezing himself next to you as he shoots you a gentle, lopsided smile.

Through the erratic rise and fall of your chest, you shoot him a glare that you hope conveys the “No shit, Sherlock” emotion you’re currently feeling.

Bradley chuckles, grabbing your hand in his larger one. “You know, now that we’re alone, I’ve been meaning to ask you. How do scientists know how old a shark is?”

“What?” You look at him incredulously.

Bradley only stares back at you expectantly.

You huff. “They count the rings on their vertebrae. I’ve definitely told you that before.”

Bradley nods, tracing the bone of your middle finger to your hand. “And how many species of shark are there? I know there’s a lot, but I can’t remember.”

“500, Bradley. There are over 500 species of shark, now can we please talk about the literal—”

“And how long have sharks been around for?” He questions again, having now moved on to tracing your ring finger.

You wet your lips in confusion. “450 million years. Bradley, I know you know that.”

Again, he nods. “Oh, what about teeth?” Bradley furrows his brows. “I know they have, like, two rows, but how many—”

“Two rows?” You turn on the couch to face Bradley in disbelief. “Two rows? Bradley, most sharks have five rows of teeth. The bull shark has 50. And you know that tooth number is dependent on species—” You trail off when Bradley stops playing with your hand and it hits you suddenly that your breathing has regulated and you don’t feel that rush of adrenaline through your system.

Bradley looks up at you with a cheeky grin. “Gotcha.”

#surfer!bradley #what's up doc

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cookiesupplier · 11 days

Text

Every Rose Has Its Thorns - Part Thirty-Eight

pairing: Ricky Olson x ofc x Chris 'Motionless' Cerulli

warnings/tropes: slow burn, soulmates, strangers to enemies to lovers, betrayal, angst, fluff, smut, language, online bullying, panic attacks, stalking, mental health issues, conspiracy theories.

summary: In a world where soulmates inexplicably receive a tattoo that will match that of their soulmate the moment they turn eighteen years old, being famous and covered in very visible tattoos can make finding your true soulmate a questionable fate. For everyone involved.

author’s note: I'm struggling with my health, so motivation and writers block is hitting me, but, trying to keep up a little, enjoy!

To read from the beginning, check out the Masterlist Here!

tags: @tearfallpixie @cncohshit @jordynyingling0219 @faceless-mirror @nyxthedestroyerofworlds @wild-child-7747 @witchyweeb34 @black-damask1999 @jilliemiw86 @ilovesamkiszka @lyschko666 @lacktoesandtoddlerants @bngurngheart @collapsedglasshouses @laurpartyprogram @sunsshinesunny @malerieee @talialovesmiw @shilohrosechicken @thatchickwiththecamera @tamtam-elizabeth

Tag List is Open, please let me know if you would like to be added to it or in general.

What the hell was happening?!?

Chris was staring at his phone and trying not to freak out. Breath, just breath. What was he going to tall Ricky and Talia? This, this was, this was… what the hell was this? Let's be real, he didn’t know what to tell Ricky and Talia because he had no idea what the fuck this was himself! It wasn’t just beyond confusing. It was insane! Forget about not using that word because of the sensitive issue about the fact both Talia and himself had been committed, he had been trying to be careful about saying, thinking it.. But push come to shove, right now, this felt utterly insane. A man he had been getting to know for years, that he had had intense philosophical conversations with, conversations that changed how he saw the soulmate bonds completely at times, just seemed to completely, what.. What the fuck?

Nothing made sense about what had just happened. Micah wouldn’t have turned on him, because that was what it felt like, Micah turning on him almost, somehow, just, a little bit. Or was that all in his head, was he over thinking this? Was, was he just imagining things here? Was he paranoid in that phone call because of the changes with his tattoo and reading too much in what had just happened? Maybe Micah was having a bad day. Still, what was wrong, what was happening? Why couldn’t he call that number anymore, this was all just so very, deranged.

“Hey Chris, have you heard back from that scientist guy yet? Because I was just think-”

Rick walking into the kitchen he stopped in his tracks taking one look at him, maybe it was the look on his face, or the fact he had been in the middle of making his lunch and had stopped cold, and it was all out on the counter forgotten. Something very unlike Chris. Leaving food out and risking it spoiling when he had to deal with enough finding decent vegan food in the past, and literally taught himself to cook to make his own, Chris didn’t just randomly leave food out. Ricky knew that, everyone that knew Chris well enough knew that.

“Okay, what’s wrong?”

Shit shit shit.. But honestly, Rick already had second thoughts about the scientists with his insistence on the testing elements, that much was obvious, and was getting the worst feeling now.. What was he supposed to say to him? Chris looking over at him after a moment, he swallowed, he didn’t know what to say, what could he say, that the hope he had for some answers had just gone down the drain.

Yes, they could wait and see if these tattoos could work themselves out on their own, but what if they didn’t? Would they be living with these effects for the rest of their lives? How would that work, at any moment it could affect them. Any moment, after what Ricky said he’d felt just from Chris kissing Talia, imagine Talia being in the middle of a tattoo and feeling him kissing Ricky out of the blue. That could have massive ramifications for her, and her client.

“I, ah, heard from Micah, my scientist fr- guy.”

He wasn’t sure, were they friends right now, it made him feel sick to question it, when Chris trusted someone enough to call them his friend, it took a lot these days after everything. So to question it now, that hurt, and he hated himself just a little bit for it.

“Oh yeah? I'm guessing, from the look on your face, the news wasn’t great.”

Chris frowned, his brow furrowed slightly as he stared at Ricky for a moment, trying to figure out what to say, how to explain that conversation when he didn’t even know he could explain it to himself. So he decided to just say that, he didn’t know.

“I don’t know what it was. He got, cagey.”

“Cagey? What do you mean?”

Chris sighed, back to how to explain, start from the top he guessed.

“Well, I didn’t want to tell him about Talia, or you, because I didn’t want to risk anyone getting pulled into anything, so I spun a story about random soulmate stupid theories, and started sprouting off different random theories. All different ones, bits and pieces from other theories Rick, throwing this one into the mix. I didn’t even mention tattoos causing strange sensations, just changing, after, well, a soulmate died. Instantly this guy I’ve been talking to for years, that I’ve sent Christmas cards to, even birthday cards to his kids, starts getting fucking weird and cagey.” As he explained it, Chris went from being worried to actually being annoyed. Because, what the hell, what was going on?!

“Considering I was sufficiently freaked out by the time he was asking me if it was my tattoo that was changing, there was absolutely no way I was telling him, I hesitated. I might as well have screamed yes at the top of my lungs, of course.”

“Of course.”

“Now I feel completely fucked because then it got even creepier when he goes.”

Chris imitates a low raspy faux villian voice, they both know how good he is at changing his voice, it sounded nothing like Micah, but that was not the point of why he was using it. He just wanted to be anything but himself right then.

“Chris, whatever you do, don’t call this number again, I’ll be in touch. and then just hangs the hell up. What Ricky, what? Next thing I know, you're walking in. I trusted this man, what, what am I supposed to do, what if, shit, what if there is some conspiracy-”

“Hey, I’m the conspiracy-nut here, leave that job to me.”

Chris couldn’t help rolling his eyes at that with a scoff.

“This isn’t the time to joke Rick, I’m scared, my tattoo is changing, and someone I thought I could trust to ultimately listen and help me figure out what is happening to me eventually just-”

“Hey, hey,”

Swallowing, feeling Ricky’s hand on his arm.

“You know, whatever happens, I’m not going anywhere.”

Ricky squeezed his fingers around Chris’ arm. There was no way he was going to walk away from Chris dealing with this, not now, not ever, not even if Talia wanted to go home. She might be his original soulmate, but Chris was his best friend, and he’d already been through hell and back. Besides, while he couldn’t guarantee it, not by a long shot, he didn’t think Talia was the kind of person that would just talk away. Not if Chris really needed her. Yes, it was just a tattoo to most people, but theirs was affecting them on an entirely different level, he was sure if anyone could appreciate that, Talia could after what they’d already gone through. What she’d already been through. Considering Talia for that matter,

“Would you like me to call Talia, we can disc-”

Before he even finished what he was saying, just thinking that they could talk about what they wanted to do from here, Chris’ phone suddenly alerted them to a message, causing the taller man to startle out of nowhere. They were really going to have to do something about Chris stress level. He had always been a perfectionist, but he was not dealing with any of this very well, and Ricky was starting to get worried about him going over the edge from all of this.

“For the love of-”

Waiting while Chris checked the message, a groan coming from the man.

“Well, that’s just the icing on the cake, look at this.”

Chris practically shoved his phone over to Ricky for him to take.

“It’s a message, from Micah, it's an unknown number, but that’s how he signs off all his texts.”

“Okay.”

Well, that, was curious. Considering the only part of the message that made any sense whatsoever was the end where Micah had signed it off according to Chris, it was interesting to say the least. The rest was some kind of jargon, the entire thing was written in some kind of code, letters, numbers, and for the life of him, there was something familiar about it.

“Do you have a notepad and pen anywhere?”

Rick wanted to write this message long hand so he could work it out other than on the tiny little screen of the phone. Obviously, it had to be something that Micah thought that Chris might be able to figure out, or at least, hoped he would be able to find a way to be able to. If he wanted him to at all. Chris could be right, it could be a conspiracy, this could just be a wild goose chase that they were about to be sent on. There might be every chance that Ricky was about to jump down the rabbit hole pointlessly, or, alternatively, Chris had a friend that was trying to actually help him, and was honestly trying to warn him away. Ricky, while had been very pessimistic lately for Chris’ sake, was willing to hope on the latter.

At the very least, he wanted to know what this damn message meant.

Even if it was just a rabbit hole.

With Chris handing over a pen and notebook, Ricky sat down at the kitchen table while the singer went back to work on finishing making lunch, only this time he set to making something for both of them. Ricky sat there, muttering to himself over the numbers, and letters, working through the different combinations, and possibilities, and while he could be going online to look up different cyphers for codes, he didn’t want to risk it. This wasn’t some random puzzle, this was Chris’ life, this was their life, and if he couldn’t figure it out, then what was the point of the code at all?

Having finished their lunch, and multiple cups of coffee, Ricky was looking at Chris suddenly, blinking…

“Could it be that simple?”

Murmuring to himself, and ripped yet another piece of paper from the notebook and scrunched it up and tossed it to the bin.

He missed.

Again.

The utterance however seemed to have gotten Chris’ attention, looking up from his phone that he had been looking over. Ricky hadn’t been paying attention to what the other had been doing, just engrossed in the message.

“What is it?”

“Just a minute.”

Ricky was already scribbling away furiously on the fresh page of the notepad, a whole new set of the figures as he glanced back to the code that he’d written out cleanly still beside him on the table. So far it was working, so far, the new page, it was making sense. So far, it really was that simple, and he was kicking himself for having not considered it before. Of course, Micah being a scientist, he’d gone for that side for, idiot. Sighing, he shouldn’t have been focusing on the science, he should have been thinking like Chris, like himself, like a musician.

“He has sent instructions, basically, buy a burner phone, call this number, and only call it at a certain time of day.” Ricky flipped the paper around so that Chris could read what the message had said,

“And a warning, not to talk to anyone else about your tattoo changing.”

Looking down at the scrawled message on the paper. So Micah was trying to help him, that, terrified him even more, that someone out there could be out to get him. Maybe not just him, but what if they came for Talia and Rick too for being connected to him now?

“Shit.”

Reading over the message that Micah sent for him, so he guessed he was going to have to go buy a burner phone.

“Looks like I’ve got a trip to the store ahead of me.”

Glancing at his watch,

“And about an hour before the first chance to call, I’m going to go now.”

He was not going to waste time. Chris wanted to find out what the hell was going on here, why Micah had suddenly started freaking out on him, otherwise he was going to be a mess all night and he knew it.

“I don’t think I can handle another day of spy games.”

Standing up from the table, he didn’t trust just sending someone else to grab a phone for him when it came to this. Chris swallowed as he glanced at Rick when he immediately followed suit, standing right alongside him.

“I’m coming with you. Don’t look at me like that, Talia is safe at Vinny’s, and if anyone is at risk from whatever the hell could be going on, on the other end of that phone call, it's mostly you, Chris. So I’m not letting you out of my sight until we know what's happening.”

Chris sighed,

“Alright, but I’m driving, Road Kill.”

Smirking as Ricky rolled his eyes, he was never letting that go.

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

#motionless in white #miw #ricky olson #ricky olson fanfiction #original female character #soulmates #fanfiction #miw band #soulmate au #ricky olson fanfic #chris motionless #chris cerulli #chris cerulli fanfic #fic: every rose has its thorns

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wroteclassicaly · 2 years

Text

Warnings: Language, self-esteem issues, a whole shit ton of angst, sadness, and so forth!

A/N: Literally have no idea what this is, only able to explain it as a product of my mood right now. I might do a second part? This is unedited, it has no title, is written as a flashback, and might not make sense, but I hope it’s still okay? It’s pretty intense, so I understand if it’s not liked or it’s upsetting. Idk if I’m even making sense rn.

Anyways…Love y’all! ❤️❤️

~*~

You thought you’d looked pretty. Robin had assured you a dozen times over—that yes, you had ‘it’ going on. Whatever ‘it’ was. But if you could have predicted that spending nearly two hundred dollars of your work paycheck to be ignored and embarrassed by your own foolish assumptions would be the end result, you would have not bothered and used the money to catch a bus to Chicago and bury your sorrows until you forgot your own useless name, that no one seemed to want to remember. Hawkins High Prom for the class of 86’, an event that you always assumed you would have attended with your best friend Eddie Munson, but instead leaving you to being arm in arm with former graduate Steve Harrington.

And that powerful confidence that you felt when you’d slipped into your gown and checked your hair and makeup, it vanished into voids unavoidable the second you and Steve stepped into the outrageously decorated gymnasium, and you saw regret through his hazel eyes, a nostalgia to missing out on having his former flame be in attendance to his own prom with him, and how he immediately sought out Nancy Wheeler across the gym, dressed in a flowing lavender dress and clinging to Jonathan Byers. You felt as if your guts had been eaten by stomach acid, only worsening once you caught Eddie holding Chrissy Cunningham close enough that there wasn’t any space between them. She looked like an Angel with her strawberry blond curls and pink gown, Eddie’s hair curlier than you’ve ever seen it, all black ensemble and a simple pastel pink rose pinned to his shirt. His rings adorned his hands, which splayed along her waist, swaying her in a suave grace that he must’ve learned beforehand. Or maybe, maybe you had never known him at all…

Steve had taken you to the dance floor not long after he couldn’t bear to watch his ex anymore, and you tried, you really fucking tried to keep that mouth watering burn from your throat, the stings that prickled your vision until it became blurry, but you failed. You wanted to say, “Steve, can’t we just keep dancing? Can you just hold me?”

But that wasn’t your reality. This was. They all wanted each other and nobody wanted you. Steve ended up stealing glances at Nancy and Jonathan, forgetting you were practically clinging to him and struggling to breathe through an oncoming panic attack. And you, you’d tormented yourself by watching Steve look at Nance, then you’d forcefully stared Eddie and Chrissy down, convincing yourself you were okay, only to remember by a physical and mental blow—no, you’re not.

Whoever was managing the music made you sick, because who in their right mind played two slow songs in a damned row, then topped it off with Total Eclipse of the Heart. Did they want to poke fun at those without partners here, or make everyone sad after Hawkins nearly burned to the ground? As the hours dragged on, the entire night fusing together, your one source of happiness being from watching Vickie and Robin together—you had wished for your flask that you didn’t even think to bring, ironically thinking Steve would look at you this time and not see his ex-girlfriend. When you originally propositioned Steve after you’d both discussed your mutual pining pains, it had been your loss of virginity, more great sex, and plenty of welcomed distractions. But you being you, you had gone and developed more than a few strings to that no strings attachment deal.

What does it say for being in love with one person and so deeply connected to another that you can’t decipher if it’s love or something else? You were thankful when those lovey dove ballads end and Steve excuses himself to (probably find a drink someone where that isn’t cafeteria made punch) use the restroom. That was short lived, however, as Eddie and Chrissy, linked hand in hand, invaded your space. Her perfume and his familiar cologne made your stomach roll. She was beaming beneath that rouge blush—happy, content, more like herself than the cheer captain she pretended to be.

You struggled with another emotion through it all—guilt. She had never hurt you, she loved your best friend without judgement, and you would die for Eddie, just as you almost did in the Vecna battle, so his happiness outweighed your wants and needs. He was okay and that’s what had mattered. He was graduating with a beautiful girl, both deserving of futures that were wonderful, whether that be apart or together. Their coupling hadn’t stopped your friendship with Eddie, but it also hadn’t stopped your crying yourself to sleep every night, watching them longingly, wishing Eddie would give you a little more free time like he used to, that his songs at The Hideout, that his ultimate, otherworldly solo had been dedicated to you, that his beautifully wild eyes were just seeing you.

And then came the guilt from being in love with your best friend, with someone else, and fucking Steve Harrington so you would be able to function like a normal human being and not sob uncontrollably everyday. You knew what you had signed up for, so falling for Steve and whatever bond that had grown (apparently, just on your end), bit you in your pathetic ass. Eddie had interrupted your self-loathing, a comment meant to sound genuine, serving to make you irate and avoidant.

“You look nice.” Was what he had said. Chrissy agreed with that beautiful smile.

His statement was like a dagger in your chest, dragging up and down, effectively gutting you. You didn’t mean for it to come out fast, or at all, for that matter, but it slipped off dejected, bitter. “No, I don’t.”

Another dose of irony, you’d thought, as Cinderella’s ‘Don’t Know What You Got’ began to play in echoing speakers.

Eddie hadn’t gotten the chance to say anything else, you halting his word formation, leaving it resting on his tongue’s tip. “Is Rick out of the slammer yet?”

His brow had raised into his hairline, practically. “Think so. Why?”

“Just need some shit.” You’d shrugged a nonchalant shoulder after responding, the strap of your dress too itchy.

You chose to think Eddie’s concerned stares were non-existent, that even Chrissy looking worried for you was your hopeful imagination. It’s not like you hadn’t gotten high before. Granted, it was always from Eddie and it was always just weed. By the time Steve was back and providing conversation between the gaps, your entire dress had started to suffocate you. Divine intervention came in the form of another song—albeit—slow, you’d taken it over standing there any longer.

You didn’t ask Steve where he went, didn’t answer his attempts at asking if you were okay, or if you wanted to ‘go to the bathroom’ with him. You’d simply settled for resting your cheek near the cove of his freckle spattered neck, pretending that he wasn’t seeing Nancy in your eyes, that your waist wasn’t hers beneath his large hands. Steve had felt it before you realized, moisture soaking his shirt collar, slicking his skin. He’d pulled back and thumbed your cheekbone, hazel irises widening in realization.

“Fuck, Y/N, are you okay?”

You couldn’t stomach his pity, your eyes had cast another dart to Eddie and Chrissy, whom were forehead to forehead, together. And then Nancy, her gaze had shifted to Steve and you. It had made you drop his hold like a hot iron, awkward and shrinking back.

“Honey…” Steve had tried gently, tone laced with a gentle coax. “M’ so sorry.”

You’d exited your prom in a hasty retreat, ignoring Eddie’s panicked acknowledgement, Steve’s following footsteps. Trashing your high heels in the garbage on the way outside, you had already began to pull at your dress’ back, the zipper too high for your reach. The asphalt was cool against your stocking clad feet, that stupid pedicure was laughing up at you. Your chest had expanded in size, ribcage being dusted to ash by a vice squeeze, one that threatened to have your entire chest cavity caving in. The way your throat had closed around pleading words that fell into the void, panic settled in and exploding, demolishing you in the process.

People were stumbling all over, kissing, happy, horns were honking, and you stood in the middle of the open double doors where Wham’s ‘Everything She Wants’ was booming in vibrations from inside the gymnasium, invading your anxiety attack as a fucked up soundtrack to your misery. Steve’s hand had clasped over your shoulder when you remembered how your cries had started getting more noticeable, anguished.

“Fucking dress. I’m so stupid! Off, get it off! I hate it! I hate this!”

Steve had not felt more powerless in his life, not since Nancy had broken his heart and fell for Jonathan. He didn’t know what to do to reach you, so he had unzipped your gown halfway to help you try and breathe a little easier. It didn’t work. You had went right for ripping the expensive fabric at every thread you could get your hands on, pawing at it until it became tattered on your body. Your hands had ripped your hair into disarray from its updo, smearing your lipstick and carefully applied shadow into smudges as it mingled with your tears.

You were babbling and what Steve did catch on your fragmented language, it caused tears to fill his eyes, stomach feeling as if he’d been sucker punched, his mouth opening and closing.

“Why doesn’t anyone want me?”

And you’d walked away, arms wrapped tightly around you, holding yourself.

You, nor Steve hadn’t seen Eddie’s rush outside, stopping short and breathless, in angry awe of the entire scene, throat tight and lashes wet. He watched Harrington’s head bow, that coiffed mane in perfect disarray, hand swiping at his nose. Both men were frozen, in disbelief. You were broken and no one had realized just how much…

~*~

Tagging:

@littledemondani @prettyboyeddiemunson @ethereal27cereal @thisishellfire @inklore @indouloureux @gothbitchshit @corrodedhawkins @pinkchubbiebunnie @likedovesinthewnd

I’m sorry if some of y’all don’t want tagged. I didn’t know who to tag in this. :/

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oneshotnewbie · 1 year

Note

Elizabeth Olsen gets a call from Florence saying that they've found you in the bathroom having a panic attack. She is the only one that can bring you out of it. Angst and fluff please. And could you make them besties?

⚠️Trigger warning!⚠️ This one-shot includes the topic of a panic attack. The plot is presented. If this triggers you too easily or you just can´t handle the subject, I urge you NOT to read this work. I am NOT embellishing this topic under any circumstance. Read at your own risk.

Authors note: I changed a small detail; Florence picks Elizabeth up instead of calling her because they're doing an interview together for the new Marvel movie. Hope that's okay.

---

Panic.

You could literally feel it rising in you and out of frustration, you smacked the sink with the flat of your hand, on which you were leaning heavily against. It wasn't your first rodeo to be present at an interview with the entire Avengers team, but right now this one gave you a far worse panic attack than you've ever seen for no reason.

-Breathe. Breathe- you thought and looked you up from head to toe in the slightly fogged mirror. The figure had red-rimmed eyes and a tear-streaked face. -Inhale and exhale- you repeated in your mind, as if you were re-teaching your body how to function.

In and out, oxygenate this body even though it felt wrong.

But nothing helped, you felt like you were suffocating. No matter how many breaths you took, there was not nearly enough oxygen in the air. Your body was stuck; seemed to keep playing itself up and you could sense that a collapse was very close.

Suddenly, the washroom door slammed open and you looked back into the mirror, startled. Inwardly, you cursed yourself for forgetting that the lock had not been closed properly by you and that there was now a confused and worried Florence standing behind you, unaware of what was happening. "Is everything okay?"

"Can´t breathe." you stammered and smacked your sternum gently a few times with a closed fist to signal her that it really did not work. You realized that you could not go through it alone. "Lizzie."

The blonde immediately nodded in understanding and turned around to jump out the door and search desperately for her co-actress.

As Florence looked for the only chance to bring you down from this panic attack, the cold sweat that started to form on your forehead was followed by nausea; dizziness from the lack of oxygen set in your head and legs, which were finally giving out and you huddled between the sink and the first toilet stall.

Your breathing was hectic and you had your face buried between your hands. Silent tears ran down your cheeks and you thought about the last time you experienced something like this; it had been a long time and you had almost managed to convince yourself that this other side of your otherwise overly cheerful self no longer existed.

And then you got caught cold.

Your psyche had rubbed it´s middle finger right in your face.

"Honey?" a female voice quaked in the far distance of your consciousness and your blurry and roving gaze turned to the bathroom entrance. The slowly approaching body of your best friend forced itself to kneel in front of you and the warm hands of the ginger haired woman found their place on your upper arms. "I´m here, everything will be fine."

Sitting cross-legged on the cold floor in front of you, she pulled you onto her lap and hugged you tightly, pressing your head against her shoulder. One thing she had learned over the past few years was, that direct physical contact calmed you down much more quickly.

Even though Elizabeth was more or less used to these short but very intense anxiety attacks from you, each one still made her sweat.

"Breathe, baby." Elizabeth gently stroked your back in a smooth circular motion and at the same time she began to rock you in her arms like a small child. "You´re safe with me."

To your own amazement, a switch clicked and a sense of security actually set in your head. Not that the racing of your heart stopped, but the fog that had thickened in front of your inner eyes cleared and your desperate attempts to gasps for it had become calmer.

You clung helplessly to her shirt and closed your eyes. If you had not opened them, the situation you were in was definitely more bearable.

Your body was still shaking in her hold and your hair was sticking to your sweaty forehead, but she gently kissed your hair and rested her cheek on your temple. "You´re doing great, breathe very slowly."

Slowly, you came down from the peak of your panic attack and took a deep breath to release the pressure inside your body while your best friend still had a tight and protective grip on you and was lovingly looking down at you.

After your tremors subsided and your chest moved up and down evenly, she very carefully, almost as if you could break if she moved too fast, pulled away from you a little and looked deep into your swollen eyes and wiped the last falling tears from your cheeks with her thumb. "You made it. I am so proud of you."

"Thank you."

Even faster than your words left your mouth, she shook her head and a soft smile spread across her lips. Elizabeth did not understood why after all these years you were still saying thank you for something that was obvious and self-evident.

After all, you were her best friend and the whole world to her.

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universallychaoticpan · 1 year

Note

HI. HEAR ME OUT ON THIS REQUEST.

chuuya gets hurt and he is in some sort of alleyway, trying to somehow stop the bleeding and stay alive(all while being pretty af), and reader is walking back home when she sees him and recognizes him as her childhood friend. so reader was supposed to be dead, or she had to be, her parents were killed when she was a kid, and she was supposed to be killed as well, but the guy that was supposed to kill her couldn't kill a child, so he let her go, from then she went by a fake name, fake everything, stopped using her ability (could be anything you want). she left chuuya without a single goodbye or anything, and now she saw him bleeding to death. she wants to help him, and he lets her, but he doesn't recognize her, it pains her but she doesn't want to tell him who she really is. once she helped him stop the bleeding he told her she was so familiar to him, and i leave the rest of this to you- it could end whatever way you wish- could be an angst, fluff, whatever you choose- sending love❤️

I love this req sm- I could tell it was gonna be juicy just from looking at it. I really hope you enjoy this because it was so fun for me. Come back anytime!

After years of running from your past, you thought you'd escaped it. You'd really been so foolish as to think you could leave your old life behind. You'd thought you'd buried the girl you had been years ago- even if you hadn't really died. But a pair of blue eyes and a shock of red hair matching the blood on the slowly falling snow brought it all back.

You had been walking back to your apartment, trying to hurry as you noticed the snow begin to fall again. Shoving your hands deeper into your pockets, you nearly missed the slight rustle, the movement coming from an nearby alley.

Whatever it was looked human; like a body leaned up against a wall. As you stared, you could nearly make out the tiny rise and fall that indicated breath. That indicated life. Casting a worried glance to the sky, you chastised yourself as you stepped into the shadows.

idiot, you thought. You're just asking to get attacked walking into a dark alley alone to help some stranger. But you couldn't stop yourself from moving in. If you didn't at least check to make sure they were alright, they might freeze.

You were nearly to the person when you saw the blood. You were close enough to see the red hair beneath his hat, a sight that brought back bittersweet memories from a life you had before. But he was bleeding as well- you could see that clearly even with the lack of light. You couldn't tell where it was coming from and there was so much; panic overcame you as you ripped off your scarf, trying anything to stop the flow of blood. The pressure woke the man with a start, his eyes finally meeting yours as he looked up fearfully. Blue. The brightest shade of blue you had seen in years.

You knew who he was. How could you forget those eyes? Chuuya Nakahara had found you somehow.

with a pang, you suddenly remembered yourselves as you had been once; you had been happy children. He had been your best friend, once upon a time. You shared everything with him. You recalled going to summer festivals together, your fingers sticky from sweets and your mouths smiling wide. You talked about dreams and wishes and made bad jokes. You teased him for his height and he got back at you by quite literally tearing your feet from under you. He was your best friend in the world.

And then it all went wrong.

It all went wrong that night, the air thick and hot with the last of summer burning off. You had been eight years old when you heard shouting outside your bedroom door. You heard your parents voices like you never had, full of fear, just outside the door. Then you heard the bangs- quick, clear, and deadly. You covered your ears and cowered in fear, tears streaming down your face as you cowered in a corner. You remembered seeing the shapes of your parents bodies lying on the threshold of your room, and a man stepping over them with a gun in his hand. He had locked eyes with you, and for a terrifying second, he simply stood in terrible silence. Then he turned around, walked out, and left you with the bodies of your parents.

From then on, you learned how to fend for yourself. You disappeared. You didn't tell anyone, not even Chuuya. One day you were simply gone. You left behind your name, reinvented yourself as someone new. Sometimes you found places to sleep, others you barely made it through the night without freezing. Your ability went unused for years. But you had survived. You found a job, and a kindly old couple who let you live above the shop you worked at. It wasn't much, but it was yours. It was your refuge from the past.

Which had now crumbled with a man with red hair and frightened blue eyes that now looked as though he was questioning whether to stab you run.

"I want to help." You steadied your voice as much as you could, pressing the fabric into his side. He winced, but nodded. "I'm going to call an ambulance ok? You need help."

But as you reached into your pocket for your phone, he grabbed your wrist. It took everything in you not to recoil.

"No," he rasped. "don't call. It'll just be worse for you."

You studied him with hard eyes, your face inches from his as you contemplated your options.

"Fine," you said. "No ambulance. But you're coming back to my apartment. I can help you there."

He nodded. Then he managed a shaky smile and opened his mouth.

"Does my savior have a name?"

You weren't sure if it hurt more or less that he didn't recognize you.

///

The walk back had been agony. Even though it wasn't far, Chuuya was barely conscious. Thankfully, there was no one there to question why you were hauling a bleeding man up to your apartment, the effort it took to get him there almost made you wish there had been someone to help. But finally, he was laying on your bed, towels spread under him to soak up the blood.

You tried seeing as little of him as you could- you only pulled away whatever you needed to get your work done. But you still saw the way he had become a person you didn't really know. He had changed the same way you had. There, a scar right above his hip bone. Just next to your finger, another one carved a white line across his rib cage. All of it was covered in fresh blood, drying blood, the shades of red that meant this wound had been inflicted long before you'd found him. You shuddered to think what would have happened to him if you hadn't glanced his way. You stitched and cleaned, soaked clean rags in water until the crimson stains became pink, lighter and lighter until it finally stopped.

He faded in and out of consciousness, his breath evening for a minute or two until the feeling of your needles working at his skin woke him. And even in his delirium, he kept his eyes on you, entranced by the steadiness of your hands and the way you bit your lip gently as you tried to focus until the task was done.

"So," Chuuya winced, "Am I going to live?"

You snorted in spite of yourself. "You'll be fine, but this is going to hurt for a while. It'll leave an impressive scar though."

You helped him sit up, his hand going to cover the fresh stitches and wincing. Your smile faded as you noticed his pain and how, even after all these years, you could see the flickers of sadness in his eyes when you mentioned scars.

And before you could stop yourself, you were pulling the collar of your shirt aside, revealing a scar of your own- one you knew he had known about before you vanished.

And know it he did; he'd spent years seeing that scar in his dreams, seeing you, wondering what had happened. Like most others, he had assumed you'd been killed along with your parents. But there was always a hope, a fear, something in him saying you may still be somewhere in the world.

And now, he was sitting in the dark, his side aching with every break, his life saved by a ghost. He was looking at a ghost, a memory, someone who couldn't be real. But there you were; with a scar that could only be yours, the mark of a fledgling ability memorialized in your skin forever. He remembered when your ability had manifested, too much energy flowing in your body, taken from the world around you. Too much power. The other scars had faded, but this one was more than any scar. It was a reminder.

"The name you told me," he murmured, reaching for you. His hand cupped your face. "That's not you, is it?"

You almost couldn't ask. "Do you remember my name? Do you remember?"

And all at once, his smile was a sad, hopeful, beacon of light in the dimness of the room.

"Oh, y/n, I never forgot. Not once did I ever stop thinking you were somewhere out there."

And even though he hadn't forgotten, you had; you had forgotten how you had missed him.

You had forgotten how much you had missed him saying your name.

#chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #nakahara chuuya x reader #chuuya bsd #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader

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trashland-llamas · 11 months

Text

Howdy

synopsis; 3 separate meet-cutes involving fem! reader + soap, ghost, & gaz

they/them pronouns used for reader; fem reader

f/a/d-favorite alcoholic drink; can switch it out for soda or water if you don't drink

Before He Cheats - Soap

Catches y/n in the act of slashing their ex's tires after finding out their partner was cheating on them with one of the other regulars

'You do realize insurance will most likely cover that if you slash all of 'em right?' Unable to hide his amusement at the 'deer-in-the-headlight' stare they gave him. 'Stop while I'm ahead, got it.'

'Not that it's any of my business but what's the story behind all this?' This being the smashed headlight, and carved leather seats. Smart enough not to sign their work. A discarded Louisville slugger.

'My boyfriend always told me he was watching the game with his buddies, turns out he's been seeing someone on the side.' Noting the shock in their voice, surprised at their ex's audacity. Accent more prominent.

'He's one stupid man, losing someone like you. Name's Soap, in case we meet again.' He didn't know when his next deployment would be, but he hoped the fates would make them cross paths again before then.

'Y/n, if I don't end up in prison first.' Not caring enough at the moment to ask what kind of name is Soap. Especially when the person looked so ruggedly handsome. Y/n started picking up all their stuff, finding a phone number scrawled on the bat.

'Call me when you get a chance jailbird.'

Die A Happy Man - Ghost

Price had tried setting Ghost up on a blind date, being a regular at y/n's shop, he had overheard them moping about how single they were. With their permission, he gave Ghost their number. 'Simon, you deserve love as much as the rest of us. Plus if it weren't for Gaz and Soap, you'd be a literal caveman. Think about it, okay?'

Ghost randomly texts them one night when he gets back from a mission, just wanting someone to talk to. 'Price gave me this number.' is his blunt opening line. 'And who am I speaking to?' Glad he had type it in correctly. 'Simon.'

It's only until a week later of semi-consistent back and forth messages that Simon asks them out. 'I'll pick you up at 7pm, wear something nice.' Breathing out a laugh at their response. 'At least send me a photo so I know who to look for.'

'Charming.' He sent a masked selfie, holding up his driver's license.

Ghost forgets out to breath when y/n's walking out the door to meet him, a red dress hugging all their curves. 'You're gonna catch flies, Simon.' Hearing how his name rolls off y/n's tongue doesn't help.

'You don't look too bad yourself.' y/n compliments Ghost as they buckle up. A navy blue button up with some black jeans. A chain holding dog tags showing from the few buttons left undone at the top.

Simon ends up having a panic attack on their second date when y/n shows up in a little black dress. It turns into a funny story as y/n was scared shitless, not knowing what to do.

Party in the USA - Gaz

'Oh my god, I'm so sorry!' Gaz had barely budged from the force. He appreciated the apology despite how little he cared for the shirt. Opening his shirt to reveal a v-neck shirt underneath. 'No fuss. Can I buy you a replacement drink?'

Nodding, they told him that is was a f/a/d. Buying a shot for himself, he looked y/n up and down. 'I'm guessing you didn't get the memo?' His tone lighthearted, a teasing quality to it. Gaz was referring to how out of place they looked, no name brands in sight. It was rather refreshing if he was honest. 'What gave it away?'

'Oh, I don't know, maybe the boots. Or the country bumpkin vibes plus the attractive accent.' His response making y/n wonder if it was the liquid courage or if he was always this lofty. 'You think my accent's hot?' Hook, line, and sinker. 'Oh, I think it's divine. Name's Kyle.' Y/n being the forward one now, invited Gaz to the dance floor.

Laughing when Britney Spear's 'If U Seek Amy' played over the speakers, them poorly singing along. Off in their own world that Gaz was the only one privy to see. Unsure if he could call their movements dancing. Not that he was any better as he was glad to have a partner.

Scoring some point in the gentleman category, Gaz offered to drive y/n home, when they were hit with butterflies in their stomach. Grabbing his phone, Gaz watched as they type in their phone number. 'So you can text me that you got home okay.' Unable to deny how his heart softened. 'Awfully kind of you, but I will.' Trying his best to reassure them, not wanting to instill any worry.

'Home safe and in one piece.' Finally seeing their name, whispers to himself, 'y/n, a pretty name for a pretty gal.'

Refuses to call them anything other than 'country bumpkin,' to the point even his colleagues know them as that.

#cod #call of duty #x fem reader #cod x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #johnny soap mactavish x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #simon ghost riley #simon riley #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #meet cute #songfic #Spotify

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acatalystrising · 1 year

Text

I have finally finished chapter six of Moth to a Flame! This chapter was a blast to write, and I’m not done with the story yet, but I certainly do hope you enjoy this next installment! I was inspired by a certain fun scene in Mando season two for this one, but with a different context… This one is more intense, so please mind the trigger warnings. Happy reading!

TW: panic attack/triggers, mention of past abuse/injury, interaction with former abuser, mentions of past sexual abuse/gaslighting, cannon violence, side character death, blood, injury, angst and hurt comfort

Moth to a Flame Chapter Six

Darkness surrounded you like an ocean of ink, black and cold, searing into your ragged lungs like hellfire. Desperate for oxygen, you clawed toward the surface, finding not water, but sand cascading between your scrabbling fingers.

You burst to the surface, chest burning, eyes wide, as you found yourself in the Dune Sea, burning sands raging like an ocean, the dunes crashing toward you, backlit by the twin suns that watched impassively above as nature itself rushed to deliver your doom…

Your eyes snapped open, and the first thing you noticed was that you were cold. Far too cold for a desert planet like Tatooine.

You were lying prone on what you surmised to be a cot, and you didn’t have to look at your hands to know they were clasped in binders. Kriff. The feeling of the metal against your skin sent tremors of terror washing through you, heart pounding so loud you worried it would burst.

Not again. Please no. Not him. I gotta get out, gotta get free, I can’t die like this!

The panic was sudden and unyielding, exploding in your brain and numbing your extremities. You tried to breathe, but your throat felt clamped in a vice, threatening to reduce the world around you to a dizzying blur. You took heaving breaths, desperate to wrestle your fear under control, hoping the tools you’d learned over the years would pay off now. You couldn’t lose your head. You’d need logic to make it out of this alive.

You ran a hand down the back of your neck, fingertips hesitating at the shallow grooves you knew were your scars. Stars, you’d wanted to forget them. Ignore it all. Disappear into the Outer Rim and never look back. But it seemed your past had finally come back to haunt you. Literally.

The compact room you were held in was dark and indiscernible, but your eyes were keen enough to notice one important feature, one that sent horror flooding through your chest. Grey, lifeless, durasteel walls. And that only meant one thing…

“Well, well. It was about time you woke up.”

You knew that voice. Hated that you instinctually stiffened. Loathed the paralyzing fear that threaded down your spine and locked you in place. It was a voice you thought you’d never hear again. A monster, back from the dead.

That monster stepped out of the shadows, sharp blue eyes locking you in place, scarred lip twisted in a victorious smirk. But you felt the scorn beneath the facade.

“You’re probably wondering how I survived.” He folded his hands behind his back, hands that you remembered. Instruments of pain and pleasure. Maker, why couldn’t he have stayed dead? “Surely you’re at least curious.”

You opted to remain silent, refusing to play his game despite the panic that welled in your chest, threatening to burst. You were curious about his fate - especially after everything you’d done to stop him. How the hell had he emerged unscathed?

“The silent treatment won’t work.” He raised a thin brow, lips twisting in a knowing grin. “I remember a time when you’d have come to me for anything. How many times did I hold you? Comfort you? All for your to stab me in the back.”

“That’s enough, Sterling.” Your words snapped from your lips like daggers, eyes narrowing at the figure before you. “You don’t get you talk like that. You betrayed me. I did what I had to do.”

“That’s Admiral Sterling to you.” His eyes narrowed, a muscle in his jaw twitching. “Is that what you tell yourself? Pathetic.”

You mustered the courage to narrow your eyes in challenge.

“Why am I here?” You crossed your arms with a shrug. “You could’ve just killed me to take your revenge.”

“Kill you? Oh goodness no, you’re underestimating me again, I’m afraid. I’m not going to kill you. You were difficult to find, I’ll give you that. It took me much longer than I’d hoped.” Sterling crossed his arms, tone darkening, brows lowering in a glare. “The Empire is scattered across the galaxy, in shambles. And you’re going to help me rebuild it.”

“Why the kriff would I do that?” You narrowed your eyes, hoping you masked the tremor of fear that slid down your spine. “I nearly gave my life to the rebellion. You think I’d do anything for your empire other than burn it to ash?”

Sterling’s eyes darkened, but his thin lips curved in an eerie smile.

“Oh my dear, I’m afraid you don’t have a choice.” He approached and you flinched as he rested a hand on your shoulder. “I’ve already taken so much from you. But, let’s see…you do have a lovely menagerie on that desolate rock. Friends, I’m sure, who you want to keep alive. Maybe you’ve pulled together a family of sorts? It’d be a shame to have them all reduced to dust.”

Oh. Oh no. Damn it.

No. This couldn’t be happening.

I’ve been a fool.

You clenched your bound fists until your knuckles ached, the horrid metal pressing uncomfortably against your skin.

“You’re a monster.” When you finally spoke, your words emitted as a hiss, full of venom and rage.

Sterling only smiled.

“Your rebel friends said the same thing when I turned on them, you know.” He shook his head with a sigh, pulling away from you. “A small price to pay for the good of the Empire. And unless you want to add more scars to your collection, you’d best do as I say. You’re a brilliant scientist, you know. You shouldn’t let all that raw talent go to waste.”

Kriff. You bit the inside of your cheek and tasted blood on your tongue. He had to know you’d never stop fighting him. But what the kriff could you do, bound and facing the threat of the deaths of everyone you loved? For now, you opted to go for the best course of action - to wait. Be patient. And figure a way out of this mess.

Because he was right about one thing - you did have talent. And you’d use every bit of it to escape.

“Fine.” You locked eyes with him, glaring daggers that you wish could burn into his skull. “Under one condition. Leave them alone.”

“That’s more like it.” Sterling’s smile grew into a vile, victorious grin. “Now there’s a good girl.”

“Don’t call me that.” Your snarl wasn’t hidden this time, eyes flashing with rage.

“Cooperate,” his grin vanished, replaced with a sneer, “and I’ll consider letting your friends live.”

He walked out of the room without another word, and as the doors whooshed shut, you dropped your head to your chest, unable to stop the sobs from erupting from your throat, echoing on the empty, foreboding walls.

You were alone, yet again. And this time, there were no rebel friends to save you. They were long dead, and you wagered you’d soon be following them.

“There it is, boss. Looks Imperial.”

Fennec shifted in the copilot’s seat to sling her rifle against her shoulder, lips twisted in a distasteful frown.

“What the hell would an Imp straggler want with your girl?”

Your girl.

Boba Fett blinked, gaze still locked on the small shuttle ahead, cruising in Tattoine’s orbit. He hated the panic that had taken residence in his chest, threatening to claw up this throat. This was precisely why he never had entertained the notion of a lover - not when everyone around him ultimately got hurt or killed…or worse. And yet here he was anyway, trying to stop the same thing from happening to the one person who had become the exception to his rule.

“Well? What’s the plan? At least the bastards were easy enough to track down.” Fennec’s voice jarred him from his thoughts, and he grunted, glancing at her over his shoulder, grateful for the helmet that masked his distraught expression. “Probably good to stay out of their sights for now. Are we sneaking in or-”

“I’m commandeering that vessel.” Boba’s voice was cold, nearly a growl. “If they don’t cooperate, they will regret it. We will find her.”

Fennec’s brows lifted, and she crossed her arms with a sigh. “Sure that’s a good idea? These Imps are flighty. The minute they’re under attack, they’ll jump to hyperspace.”

Boba watched the ship with narrowed eyes, clenching his gloved hands to fists.

“I’ve caught bigger prey. Besides, we have the advantage,” he punched in some coordinates and launched into hyperspace, already preparing the return sequence. “They don’t know we’re coming.”

“I didn’t want things to go this way, you know.”

You narrowed your eyes as Kali walked beside you, nervously wringing her hands. She shot a nearly apologetic glance at you before quickly looking away, eyes fixed straight ahead. When she spoke again, her voice was much softer.

“I tried to warn you. But I couldn’t just tell you that I…”

“That you’re a double agent?” Your tone was low like thunder, and you clenched your fists despite the cuffs, but quickly relaxed your hands when your skin tightened against the metal. A shiver ran down your spine. “Why bother. Seems everyone on this ship is.”

“I…started to have regrets. You were kind,” Kali blinked, chewing on the inside of her lip with a frown. “But…”

“Yeah, yeah, it was that “for the glory of the Empire” shit.” You heaved a sigh as one of the guards roughly shoved you forward, and shot the man a glare. “I’m already walking, idiot. Dank farrik, I’ve heard all this before.”

Maker, you hoped they bought your act. Yes, you were angry. But you were absolutely terrified. There was no way to get off this ship unless you found an escape pod, and you didn’t have any backup to rely on. Kali wouldn’t be of any help either. Her betrayal wasn’t the first, and not the most painful by a long shot.

You were forced around a corner and through two massive bay doors, and found Sterling standing by the viewport, arms crossed behind his back. He turned upon your entry, lips curving in a cunning smile.

“Ahh, so glad you could join us,” he gestured toward a table that had been set up in the center of the command room. “Please, have a seat.”

As if you had a choice.

You sat, eyeing the man warily as he approached, sitting across from you and neatly placing his hands on the table. You were quick to notice his skin was marred with burn scars, the tissue still raised and angry despite the time that had passed.

“Imp stragglers don’t have enough bacta, huh?” You raised a brow, inwardly grinning when you saw the fury light in his eyes. “That’s just ironic.”

He sighed, lifting his hands and inspecting them in the fluorescent lighting, brows raised in appraisal.

“When you rigged the ship to blow, I nearly didn’t resist. You were fierce - willing to go to any lengths to stop me. I respected that.” His gaze met yours, that anger still there, but also a sadness. “I barely escaped with my life. There was an access shaft I climbed through, and got on the last escape pod before it was too late. But I didn’t…escape unscathed.”

You frowned, leaning back in your seat, wincing when the metal of the chair brushed against the back of your neck. Anger welled in your chest, threatening to burst, and you clenched your fists under the table as much as the binders would allow.

Was he kriffing serious?

“You think I’ll feel pity for you after what you did? You pretended to be my friend. I thought you were one of us. I thought we were close.” You took a deep breath, hands shaking, nails biting into your palms. “When we were captured, you were the only thing I had. The only reason I kept fighting. You comforted me, held me. I thought…”

Stars, you didn’t want to admit it. To admit that once, he’d been everything to you. And during that time, you’d only hoped that…

“You thought what? That I loved you? Oh my dear, it was merely a means to an end. You are a brilliant scientist, I needed you. I still do.” Sterling’s voice was cold, detached, his icy gaze locked on you. “That was always your problem. You’re too trusting. It’ll get you killed someday. But I will admit…the times we spent together of the more…intimate sort…are ones I think of often.”

Oh, of all the vile, wretched things to say…

You tried to stand, a cry erupting from your throat, but the guard behind you forced you back into your chair, hand digging painfully into your shoulder. Heart pounding, you glared daggers at the man across from you, biting the inside of your cheek with a sneer.

“I’ll risk my life as many times as it takes to kill you!” You strained against the binders, hair falling in your eyes, while he merely watched you with a smirk. “I will never stop. And I will never, ever, work for you. The Empire can go to hell!”

Sterling only sighed, shaking his head. He pulled a pair of gloves from his coat pocket and slowly pulled them over his fingers, gaze dropping to his hands.

“You want to pretend to be a hero? To be important? Fine. I had imagined my last punishment would have taught you your lesson, but clearly I was wrong.” When he looked back up at you, any sense of familiarity was gone - replaced with the cold, cunning gaze of a deadly enemy. He slowly stood, eyes narrowing. “Considering the scarring you have, you most likely won’t survive this time. But I will warn you, it won’t be a quick death.”

No.

He wouldn’t.

Kriffing hell, of course he would.

You hated how quickly you stiffened, an old ache resurfacing on your neck, making your scars tingle. You tried your best to look calm, to hide the fear, but Sterling was too clever for that. He merely smiled.

“Because of our past, I’ll give you one last chance. Cooperate, or-“

Alarms blared so loud you winced, and Sterling flinched as something slammed against the ship’s hull, throwing the man off balance and back into his chair.

“Sir, we’re under attack!”

You watched, wide eyed, as the personnel around you began to panic, running to their stations. The ship swerved, banking to the right, providing you a glimpse of Tattoine’s red surface in the distance. Ahh, so you hadn’t fully left yet. For some reason, that provided a comfort.

Sterling stood, glancing at you suspiciously before walking further into the room, fists clenched tightly at his sides. “What are you waiting on? Fire!”

“We’re trying Sir, but the weapons are jammed! Nothing’s working,” one of the Imps frantically punched at the buttons, face paling. “Kriff. It’s an ion cannon, Sir. Everything’s down.”

You couldn’t stop the small flare of hope from igniting in your chest.

You peered out of the viewport, but saw nothing. Who was attacking? Were they pirates? Or had they come to save you? A small part of you allowed yourself to entertain, for a moment, that it could be a certain ex bounty hunter, but that would be too good to be true. Surely he wouldn’t worry himself with your fate. You were easily replaceable.

But still…

Another blast rocked the ship, sending blue electric currents coursing through the controls. Cries filled the air as another barrage nearly tipped the craft, and smoke flooded the air, filtering out the flickering lights.

“Whoever they are, they’re not getting what they came for.” Sterling turned, locking eyes with you. “Jump to hyperspace.”

“We can’t Sir,” the man sounded nearly sarcastic despite his fear. “It’s an ion cannon. We’re stuck.”

Sterling whipped out his blaster and shot the man between the eyes with a growl, face reddening as the others froze, eyes on their admiral, fear palpable in the smoky air.

“Well? Who’s next?” Sterling’s voice rang over the blaring alarms, rising higher in pitch. “Shoot any pirate that sets foot on this ship. That’s an order. And you…”

He spun on his heels to face you, nostrils flared, fury burning in his eyes.

“You‘re not going anywhere.”

You dared to stand despite the convulsing ship around you. Dared to lock eyes with your enemy as he approached. Dared to smile in his sneering face, inches from yours, as a familiar ship crested the viewport, one that could strike terror into every heart aboard besides yourself - as well as the equally familiar voice rasping over the intercom, gruff, commanding, rolling like the thunder of an oncoming storm.

“Lower your shields. Disengage your transponders. Prepare for boarding.”

“Sure you didn’t go overboard?”

Fennec’s helmet tilted toward Boba as she ducked under a loose hanging wire, sparks flaring into the smoky air. A stormtrooper rushed around the corner and she quickly took aim, dropping him before he could alert their position.

As if that really mattered at this point.

“Ship’s barely hanging by a thread.”

“They took her.” Boba was already moving, striding down the hall where he knew the control center would be located. “Their mistake.”

Fennec shot him another glance before following behind, rifle held at the ready, as they turned the corner and came across the massive doors. They were sealed shut. Boba groaned, anger flaring in his chest. He took a breath, clenched his hands into fists, and for once in his life, wished he had the powers of a kriffing Jedi so he could rend the doors asunder to get to the woman he…

That he…

Damn it all.

He’d grown quite fond of his little veterinarian. Loved making you smile, and relished in the fact that he could so easily turn you into a flustered mess. But he felt stronger for you then mere affection, didn’t he? Maker above, this was more than a crush.

Boba Fett, of all people, had fallen in love.

“I got it,” Fennec was already at the control panel, prying it open with her vibroblade. He blinked, grateful for the helmet to mask his contemplative expression. “Be ready. I’m sure they’ll be armed to greet us.”

Boba merely nodded, lifting his weapon with a roll of his shoulders.

“Affirmative.”

The doors swung open, and a volley of blaster fire immediately burst forth, spraying the walls with smoking scorch marks. Fennec ducked around the doorframe, picking the Imps off one by one, but Boba had a different approach in mind. One that had worked countless times during his bounty hunting days. It worked then, and it would work now. Time was of the essence.

The plasma bolts continued to cut through the hazy air, albeit a few less then before, but Boba didn’t hesitate.

He simply walked through the door.

The bolts bounced harmlessly off his beskar, and he took little time dispatching those closest to him with his rifle and gaffi stick. But as he carved a path through the smoke, the sight before him made him stop in his tracks.

“That’s far enough, bounty hunter.” A tall, thin Imperial man stood several paces ahead, pristine uniform standing out amidst the haze.

But that wasn’t what held his attention.

You were on your knees, trembling - a thick metal collar clamped tightly around your neck.

Even from the distance, he saw the probe droid hovering behind you with its hellish needles, one already glistening with your blood. This kind of torture…it was vile, even for the Empire’s standards. And they were using it on you.

You, who’d only ever cared for other living things. Who had chosen to trust him, befriend him, even love him…

And these monsters were tormenting you.

“You know what this is, of course. Take one more step forward and she’s dead. Say…did you ever see these in use during your contracts for the Empire?” The Imperial glanced between Boba and you with a smirk, his words twisting like knives in Boba’s gut as your eyes flicked toward him in question. “Oh? He hasn’t told you? He served the Empire back in the day. In fact, he probably would have turned you in if I hadn’t set you up myself.”

Oh, Boba hated this man.

Fear flared in his chest when you glanced at him, lips parting to speak, but both he and the Imperial bastard were entirely confused when you simply…laughed.

“Oh Sterling, you’re such an idiot.” You shook your head as much as you could, rivulets of blood running down your neck and dripping over your collarbones, finally landing on the floor. “I already knew he did. Everyone on Tatooine knows who Boba Fett is. Unlike you, some people change. Someone once told me fate steps in the rescue the wretched. But it won’t for you.”

Despite the situation, warmth flared in Boba’s chest, and he tightened his grip on his rifle. You remembered. And he wasn’t about to let this fool get away with his abuse. He wagered this was the same one responsible for your other scars…

The man called Sterling glared at you, gloved hands clenched to fists. His fatal mistake was obvious - looking away from the true threat. “I don’t think so. And I-“

Boba lunged faster than the man could blink, ripping his blaster away with his gaffi stick and throwing him to the ground, pinning him underneath his weight with a growl.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing? Unhand me!” Sterling flailed pathetically beneath him, eyes wide with fear. “Release me, that’s an order!”

But Boba saw the raw fear shining in his eyes. A fear he knew all too well. The same fear he’d seen in the eyes of countless others before this poor fool - a legacy and death and bloodshed he’d thought he’d left behind. But he remembered the scars on your neck, and tightened his grip on the man with an unseen snarl.

The man was terrified. He knew who he was dealing with, there was no doubt about it.

Good.

“Aren’t you listening bounty hunter scum? I said-“

“I am the Daimyo of Tatooine. You’ve taken someone precious to me.” Boba raised his blaster to the man’s temple. “You will never harm her again.”

“No wait, I-“

He fired the weapon with no hesitation, and the Imperial fell limp, smoke curling from the wound and wafting from the barrel of his blaster. The remaining personnel fled the room, presumably for the escape pods, but he didn’t bother to shoot them down. Silence fell, sudden and final. Boba suddenly felt old, much older than his years suggested, as he forced himself to turn and meet your gaze. Surely you’d be afraid of him, having seen him as the killer he always knew he was.

But instead, he only saw relief shining in your bloodshot eyes.

“You came for me,” a tear rolled down your cheek, and his heart nearly broke in two at the softness of your voice, the fire long gone. “I didn’t know…didn’t think…”

“Easy, my little one,” he knelt beside you, quickly working to remove the collar from your neck. “Breathe. I’m here. You’re safe.”

As soon as the collar was removed, you collapsed into his arms, curling against his chest in silence. He blinked, so taken aback by the gesture that it took him a moment to gather you in his arms, holding you as tightly as he dared, careful to avoid the new wounds marring your neck. And yet you kept your gaze locked with his, gratitude shining in your eyes.

You were the first person, he wagered, that looked at him in relief instead of fear when he walked into a room.

You’d probably be one of the only who ever did.

But right now, that didn’t matter. There would be time to handle the aftermath - time to talk, to process, to heal. Right now, he needed to get you to safety, and to medical attention.

He held you securely against him as he stood, keeping you close, nodding to Fennec who was already covering him for their exit. The ship could burn for all be he cared. You were safe, and that was all that mattered.

“Rest, sweet girl.” He pressed his helmet against your forehead, voice soft, nearly a whisper. “Let’s go home.”

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seungbinbin · 1 year

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just like magic - h.h.

pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader

wc: 992

genre: fluff (?), if i'm honest idk what this is!

warnings: swearing, weird plot bc i dreamt this, no editing (if i missed any actual warnings let me know)

note: ok hear me out i know this very unserious and a bit crazy but i quite literally dreamt this and i thought it was so funny and a little cute so i decided to just write it lmfao i hope it’s enjoyable to read !

synopsis: it's always shocking to wake up next to someone you don't remember falling asleep with

you had no idea how this had happened.

maybe it had been that obscure manifestation tutorial you had followed that worked a little too well. or maybe a witch had cast a spell after she sensed how unkind the dating scene had been to you. perhaps it was that wish you made while throwing a coin into the weird little fountain at the mall – the water did look like it was glowing in an odd way that night. you didn’t know but, whatever it was, it had made a man appear in your bed.

you had woken up expecting to start your normal sunday morning routine: wake up, flip over, and keep sleeping until noon. but something was off. your pillow was not the soft, fluffy, pink cushion that you were used to. it was hard, and warm…and breathing. your eyes shot open, all desire to sleep in immediately leaving your system.

there was a shirtless man in your bed!

the shock had rendered you silent, leaving you laying there with wide eyes and panicky. who was he? he could kill you! what was he doing in your bed? why was he hogging the blanket? why was he the most beautiful man you had ever seen-

for the love of god, you needed to stop drooling over the intruder in your home!

snapping out of it, you tried to come up with a plan. one that wouldn’t get you killed by the sexy, beautiful man with a perfectly toned body- STOP! by the scary, not perfect and exactly your type, possible murderer in your bed! you needed to call the police. carefully extending your arm to not wake the man beside you, you grabbed your phone from the bedside table. unfortunately, it was dead. out of all the nights, you just had to choose the night before to forget to plug in your phone.

okay, plan b. maybe you could sneak off to the kitchen and grab a frying pan to attack him rapunzel style. making sure he was fast asleep, you slowly but surely started rolling off the mattress.

“baby…” he mumbled softly, stirring once he felt you move. “don’t go.”

his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to his warm body. he was now spooning you, and you were a hundred times more confused and shocked than before.

baby? BABY?! he was calling you pet names. you didn’t even know his real name! who the fuck was this person? you wanted to kick and scream. that was the logical thing to do, but there was something stopping you. maybe your brain was still foggy with sleep, or maybe it was the fact that he was just so, so beautiful. how does someone this perfect just appear in your bed?

actually, how the fuck had he gotten into your house? you needed to change the locks and hide your spare key much, much better. you hadn’t heard him come in either, which was surprising, since the entrance to your house had the squeakiest door known to man. nothing was making sense! you attempted to get out of bed again, but the man held you tighter.

“five more minutes? please, [y/n].”

[y/n]? baby was one thing, but your actual name?

“how do you know my name?” you asked, finally letting your panic show. no amount of beauty could keep you from freaking out about an absolute stranger knowing your name.

“[y/n], i’m too tired for this.” he whined as you stood up from your bed.

“i’m serious!” you plugged in your phone then grabbed the first thing within your reach, which was a bottle of dry shampoo, you assumed a fighting stance. “how do you know my name? how did you even get in here?!”

“i have a key? babe-”

“you stole my key?!”

“no, you gave it to me.” he opened his eyes, laying on his side to face you. “we live together. i don’t understand what’s happening, are you okay?”

“who are you?”

“[y/n], this isn’t funny!” he huffed, propping himself up on his elbow so you could properly see his sleepy, perfect, frowning face. “we’re dating! we’ve been together for months, and i don’t like this joke!”

“i’m not trying to be funny! i don’t know you!”

“oh my god!” he flopped back down into the bed, hands pushing back his dark hair in frustration. “you know my name is hyunjin, we’re literally in love.”

“what the fuck-”

your phone turned on with a ding!, distracting you from what you were saying. you saw your lock screen picture and gasped.

it was a photobooth strip of you and the man, hyunjin. smiling, giggling, kissing. you looked at the framed picture sitting in your nightstand; you and hyunjin at the beach, holding hands. paying close attention to your room decor, you could see polaroid pictures of him painting, laughing, kissing your cheeks, meeting your family. you could see his clothes in your half opened closet, and his cologne sitting on your vanity. you had never seen any of these things before that morning, but somehow they all looked like they belonged there. they looked natural; him being in your life seemed natural.

you looked at his face again, his brows furrowed in confusion, pouty lips sticking out in a mix of frustration and annoyance. the more you looked at his face, the more familiar he seemed.

“i-...okay?” you dropped the dry shampoo, approaching the bed slowly.

“now can you stop whatever you’re doing and sleep some more? you’re clearly delirious and lacking sleep.”

you frowned, taken aback. “hey! it’s not my fault you just appeared in my house!”

hyunjin rolled his eyes and chuckled, patting the spot next to him. “just come back to bed!”

you had no idea how this had happened but, apparently, you had a boyfriend, a committed relationship, and a new roommate. and somehow you were okay with it.

#lol this is a little silly #stray kids #stray kids fluff #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #stray kids x y/n #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x y/n #hyunjin x you #hyunjin fluff #hwang hyujin imagines #skz x you #skz x y/n #skz fanfic #skz fluff #skz x reader #skz hyunjin

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omarscurls · 10 months

Text

Wilhelm finds the red shirt…

This was supposed to be about Wille finding his shirt in Simon’s room and just like being fluff in general

I’ve literally had this idea in my head since s2 premiered, and been writing since then lmao

It has taken me unbelievably long to write this short piece of fluffy nothingness

TWs: none really? Hints or signs of a panic attack and anxiety, August is mentioned, otherwise I don’t think there’s any

A/N look like this because my mind is weird and it’s fun to comment as I write

Idk what this is but enjoy! :)

Everything in Wille’s mind went blurry the second the cameras were turned off. He registers that the choir behind him has started to move, that the crowd watching him is whispering and not even hiding the looks they’re giving him, that the headmaster seems to be frozen where she’s sitting and that his mom, the queen, is walking towards him with determined steps and an unreadable face.

But he can also see that Boris is smiling at him proudly from where he’s sitting, that August who has stood up from his seat and is now talking to Nils while looking like he just swallowed a lemon, that Felice and Madison are both waving and smiling at him.

He finds comfort in all of these things, but it isn’t quite enough to stop his head from spinning and vision from going blurry. He once again realises his mom is trying to reach him and he starts feeling the panic rise in his chest and he desperately look’s around for a place to hide, run, anything, but everyone is coming closer and there’s so much noise and angry voices and people trying to reach him and he can’t quite see and…

There’s a hand in his. Simon’s hand, his mind helpfully tells him. Simon who is now desperately trying to pull him away from the chaos that is happening around them.

Wille doesn’t quite know how but they end up back in his room. He silently watches as Simon pulls the curtains shut and checks that the door is locked. Twice.

Then Simon turns to Wille. They stare at each other for just a second before they both go “Are you ok?”. Simon lets out a breathy laugh and says “yes, yes” while Wille pulls him close. “Are you ok?” Simon asks again, a bit muffled since his face is now hidden in the crook of Wille’s neck.

Wille thinks for a second. Because no, no he’s not ok. His heart is beating too fast and it still feels like he can’t get enough air into his lungs. But Simon is right here with him and having told everyone the truth doesn’t make him as anxious as it should. “Maybe, I think so” he finally responds.

Wille can feel Simon wrap his arms even tighter around him and he’s pretty sure Simon is smiling against his neck. He can feel his own heartbeat slow down little by little as he breathes in the smell of Simon’s hair.

“We are ok” Simon whispers to him, over and over again. Wille doesn’t know which one of them he is trying to convince, probably both. Either way, it helps.

Why tf are they at Wille’s? The whole point of this was for them to go to Simon’s, I’m getting carried away lol

“I love you” Wille whispers back a couple of minutes later, or maybe an hour, he doesn’t really know. It also doesn’t really matter. What matters is that he can somewhat breathe normally again and that Simon is still hugging him, gently rocking them back and forth.

“I love you too” Simon says, pulling away a little, so that he can look into Wille’s eyes. They both smile.

And then, finally, they kiss. Because after all, they’re just teenagers. Who are a little bit in love. And sometimes a little bit of casually making out is the best way to forget about the rest of the world.

They are rudely interrupted by the sound of a phone ringing. It’s Wilhelm’s. He doesn’t want to answer it, he can’t, really, right now.

But he doesn’t have to because Simon slips his hand into Wille’s pocket and grabs his phone. Declines the call and turns it off. Wille doesn’t even get the chance to see who’s calling.

Is this the fluffiest mess if ever written? Maybe

“Do you want to sleep at mine tonight?” Simon asks him after giving the phone back to Wilhelm, now with a determined look on his face.

“Please” Wille answers immediately, without hesitation. He doesn’t really know how that’s supposed to work though, because there’s most likely someone outside of his door just waiting to grab him and take him to the castle, or to his mom, probably to talk, or something.

But somehow they manage to get out, with some help from Felice and Madison. Wilhelm decides to just not look behind him as they hurriedly walk towards the bus station. He focuses on the feeling of Simon’s hand in his and blurs out everything else.

Yes this is me getting through not having written anything for weeks bc I didn’t know how to get them out of there whoops lol

Simon’s mom hugs them both tightly as soon as they walk inside the door and once again Wilhelm feels like he can breathe a tiny bit more freely.

After greeting Linda they head off to Simon’s room, where they once again make sure the window is locked and the curtains shut.

Is that even the right way to say that lol

He looks around for a bit, touches stuff that has been added since he was there last. He and Simon talk, mostly nonsense, very obviously avoiding the fact that the entire world is probably looking for them right now. But it’s comfortable. Wille feels safer than he has in a long time.

The sit at the end of Simon’s bed. Simon’s fingers are running through Wille’s hair as he rests his head against Simon’s shoulder. For the first time since the the cameras were turned off, Wille can’t feel his pulse racing. Simon tells him as much: “ are you more ok now? It seems better” “I think I am” he answers. He realises that’s true.

There’s a faint thought that he should be worried about something but it’s in the back of his head and it doesn’t seem impossible right now. Not when Simon is right there, feeling so real. His fingers in Wille’s hair is the only thing that seems to make any sense in Wille’s head at the moment.

See what I did there? “All the people are fake… but I like you and that’s not fake…” Simon is real :,)

Simon let’s his hands wander, one stopping on the prince’s chest, right on his heart. “At least your heartbeat is ok again” he mumbles, as he gently scratches at Wille’s shirt in the same spot, seeming to need something to hold on to.

The let their hands wander, talk for a bit, share a couple of innocent kisses, both of them being too exhausted to make them lead to something else.

It’s when Simon’s head, that’s now resting against Wille’s shoulder, start to become heavier, and Wille muffles another yawn with the sleeve of his hoodie, he suggests they go to bed. Simon doesn’t even really know what time it is, or if anyone has tried to reach them, but agrees since they both seem exhausted enough to fall asleep sitting up against the wall.

As Simon leaves to get some stuff for Wille and to say goo night to his mom, Wille gets up from the bed too. He changes into the T-shirt Simon threw at him to wear as pyjamas, and looks around the room again.

Why tf is nothing like, happening lmao

Simon did clearly not make his bed this morning so Wille doesn’t think he’ll mind is he just sits down and rests his eyes for a little while.

Ooooo finally? Maybe

As he moves the pillows around just a bit he sees something red sticking out from underneath one of them. Weird. He pulls out the piece of fabric and is puzzled for a second before he realises. That’s his shirt. The one he thought he lost months ago. In Simon’s bed.

He’s about to start thinking about what that means when Simon comes back. He seems to be in the middle of a sentence when he realises what Wille is doing and as his eyes land on the shirt in Wille’s hands, he freezes completely.

“I-“ he starts. “I was going to give it back…” “I swear!” “I didn’t steal it it was just that…” “I- you- the headmaster-“ Simon’s brain doesn’t seem to be functioning properly.

Wille just giggles: “Hey, it’s ok, I don’t mind, like, at all”. That’s makes Simon unfreeze again and stumble right into Wille, trying to hide his embarrassment in the prince’s shirt.

Said Prince just wraps his arms around Simon, who is very much clinging to him but still refusing to show his face. “I just want to know how you got it” Wille ends up saying.

As they move into bed Simon tells Wille how he got his hands on the shirt and how he completely forgot to give it back.

They forget about it, start talking about other things, kiss a little, talk some more, while they cuddle up under the covers. It’s not until they’re in the dark, just about to fall asleep, bodies tangled together until they can’t really tell where Simon ends and Wille begins, that Wille whispers: “how come the shirt was in your bed though? Under you pillow?” He barely has time to finish the sentence before Simon slaps a hand over the prince’s mouth and groans, while hiding underneath the blanket.

They’ll be ok.

Thank you so much for reading!! Any thoughts on this/feedback is very much appreciated so please leave a comment :)))

#wilmon #young royals #young royals netflix #edvin ryding #omar rudberg #yr s2 spoilers #young royals season two #young royals incorrect quotes #young royals fanfic

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