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thewulf · 7 months ago

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The Price of Protection || Captain John Price

Summary: Request -Recently I was SA. Now I wasn't R@ped. But I was peer pressured/manipulated and intoxicated to verbally consenting to things I didn't want to do. I'm not asking for it to be relived but rather comfort. Everyone always talks about feeling disgusted but I want comfort for the guilt and second thoughts... Read Rest Here

A/N: THIS ONE IS HEAVY. Please read the trigger warnings below. Thank you anon for trusting me with this. I hope you like it.

Pairing: Captain John Price x Female Reader, TF 141 x Platonic Female Reader

Word Count: 4.8k +

TW: MENTIONS OF SA (Not outright but hints), Heavy Angst, general COD warnings.

You had always admired your Captain for as long as you’ve known him. It wasn’t but almost three years ago now that you were assigned to Task Force 141. They were skeptical at first, as you would be too. Who was this little American girl infiltrating their ranks? This was a Task Force with the most brilliant minds and somehow you were there. Yet, you had proven yourself one of the most valuable assets to the team time and time again. You were good, great even, at your job. You could hack into anything, take over any camera you wanted, reroute rockets if you had the time allotted. You were the genius behind some of the missions that could’ve gone south fast. You were Captain Price’s secret weapon that he kept well hidden.

It took you a while to open up to the guys. But leave it to Soap to get you talking. After a year of trying your best to maintain the Ghost persona, Soap had successfully broken you down. They learned of your past, how you came to be so freakishly good with computers and hacking, where you went to school and where you grew up. You were an enigma to the team. And they grew to love you. It was slow until it wasn’t. You were an outcast until you weren’t. You found yourself laughing and bantering with John, Soap, Gaz, and Ghost time and time again. Suddenly, you were a part of the team, a true member of TF141.

Most times you would head out with the team to help them out. But sometimes you could do the job right from your home base. And this mission turned out to be one of those times. You didn’t hate that you didn’t get to go; you just felt a little left out when you stayed back. But Price always assured you it was for your safety above all else. Sometimes these missions were a little too dangerous for even you. Which of course led you to be more nervous than ever. If it was too dangerous for you, then what was it for them? Surely no walk in the park.

You walked with Price out to the chopper trying one last time. “Captain, are you sure? I can help with logistics once you get there.”

He gave you that signature soft Price smile before shaking his head softly. “I’m sure. It’s a quick in and out. No need to put you in the line of fire for it.”

“But…”

He cut you off. “I know you want to go. I really do. But it’s not worth the risk. You’re too valuable to this team.”

You let out a sigh before nodding. “I understand. Please be safe. Make sure everybody comes back in one piece.”

He gave your shoulder a comforting squeeze. “Like we always do. We land at 0800 local time. Soap will be giving you a call then. We’ll see you soon.”

Pressing your lips together you forced a smile to him. “You better.” With a quick nod, you watched as he hopped in the chopper with the rest of the team. Soap flipped you off before the pilot ascended, leaving you in a fit of laughter, always the shit he was.

You had forgotten how much you disliked being away from the team. You felt so far, so disengaged. Even with MacTavish swearing like a sailor in your ear. You felt totally helpless but tried your best to do whatever you could for the team. The mission was successful but not without hiccup. Gaz had been shot, fortunately, it was just a small graze to the shoulder but nevertheless it reminded you of how fragile their lives were. How one misstep could take a best friend away from you. How crucial you really were to their livelihood.

The stress was getting to you tonight though. The thought of mortality was becoming too much. So, you found yourself at the bar just outside of base. What better way to bury your stresses away than to drink your worries away right with it? You weren’t usually so careless. But the worry and the helplessness got the better of you. One beer turned to two. Turned to a few shots bought by a man across the bar who was giving you the eyes. You’d seen him around base. Maybe even chatted for a brief time. But you chose to never give these men the time of day, until tonight. You knew the type and usually stayed far away. But it was a moment of weakness that got to you.

As the night wore on and the drinks kept coming, the edges of your worries dulled. For a fleeting moment, the weight of the world seemed to lift from your shoulders. It was a temporary reprieve, a fleeting sense of freedom from the constant pressure of your responsibilities. In the chatter and clinking of glasses you felt an unwanted hand on your shoulder, and you turned to see the man who had been buying you drinks. His smile was charming, but there was a hint of something predatory in his gaze. Instinctively you tensed as your senses were on high alert in your inebriated state.

You forced a polite smile, but you felt uneasy. The alcohol had clouded your judgment, leaving you vulnerable and exposed. You knew you should’ve left right then and there. Find your way back to the safety of base, but a part of you hesitated. Maybe it was the loneliness or the desire to forget, but you entertained the idea of staying just a little longer.

As the minutes ticked on, you found yourself ensnared in a web of conversation with the soldier. His words were like honeyed poison, dripping with false charm and manipulation. He seemed to know just what to say. But beneath the surface there was a darkness lurking. A predatory intent masked by the guise of friendly banter. The alcohol eventually dulled your senses, clouding your judgment as you struggled to keep up with the rapid pace of the conversation. His words became a blur as each syllable merged into the next until they lost all meaning. But still you listened captivated by the illusion of connection he wove around you.

His touch was insistent. His hands lingering where they shouldn't have been sending shivers of discomfort down your spine. You tried to pull away, to put some distance between you and this stranger who seemed to know too much about you. But he only tightened his grip, his fingers leaving marks in their wake.

As the night wore on, the line between consent and coercion blurred. Your protests drowned out by the relentless onslaught of alcohol and manipulation. You knew deep down that you didn't want this, that every fiber of your being screamed for you to escape. But you felt trapped, suffocated by the weight of his expectations. And so, with a soul weighed down by guilt and shame, you surrendered to his advances. Your body moving on autopilot as you sought refuge in the temporary oblivion of physical pleasure. But even as you gave in a part of you screamed in silent agony you mourned the loss of you usual control.

In the aftermath as the harsh light of reality pierced through the haze of alcohol and regret, you were left grappling with the devastating truth of what had transpired. You had been used, manipulated, reduced to nothing more than a pawn in someone else's twisted game. The guilt threatened to consume you, gnawing at your insides as you struggled to come to terms with what had happened. You blamed yourself, berating your own weakness and naivety. Wishing you had been stronger, smarter, better able to protect yourself. But deep down you knew the truth. You were not to blame. You were a victim of his manipulation, preyed upon by someone who saw you as nothing more than a means to an end.

The next day dawned with a heavy burden that seemed to press down upon your shoulders, weighing you down with the crushing weight of guilt and shame. As the TF141 team returned from their mission, the atmosphere in the base shifted. You left the air thick with an unspoken tension that hung over the corridors.

Alone in your room, you felt as though you were drowning in a sea of despair, the walls closing in around you with every passing moment. Tears streamed down your cheeks unchecked, leaving salty trails in their wake as you grappled with the overwhelming flood of emotions. Each sob that wracked your body felt like a physical manifestation of the agony that churned within you. A relentless reminder of the betrayal of your own body and the violation of your trust. Every breath was a struggle, a battle against the suffocating weight of shame that threatened to crush you beneath its relentless onslaught.

Outside your door, the sounds of laughter from Soap and Gaz only served to deepen your anguish. You could hear Price and the others talking, their footsteps echoing through the corridors as they made their way back to their quarters. But despite the familiarity of their presence, you couldn't bring yourself to face them. You couldn't bear the thought of meeting their eyes and seeing the disappointment and judgment reflected back at you. Instead, you remained sequestered in your room. You isolated yourself from the world outside as you struggled to come to terms with what had actually happened.

As the hours passed and the weight of your guilt continued to bear down on you, your phone buzzed incessantly with messages from Soap, Gaz and even Ghost. Each notification felt like a sharp jab to your already fragile psyche, a painful reminder of the concern and judgment you knew awaited you on the other end of the line. Soap's messages were filled with words of worry and encouragement, his concern evident in the way he repeatedly asked if you were okay. Gaz's messages were more subdued, but no less concerned, his terse inquiries betraying the depth of his worry for your well-being.

You ignored their messages, unable to fake it to them. Instead, you buried yourself deeper in the cocoon of your own despair, the silence of your room offering little solace in the midst of your turmoil. But as the day wore on and hunger gnawed at your stomach, you reluctantly dragged yourself out of bed and made your way to the cafeteria. It was late, far later than anyone else would-be getting dinner, or so you thought.

As you entered the desolate cafeteria, your heart sank at the sight of Ghost sitting alone at a table in the corner. Despite the emptiness of the room his presence felt suffocating, casting a harsh spotlight on the turmoil brewing within you. With a sigh you ignored him and walked up to serve yourself the usual dull military food. You felt Ghost's gaze boring into you. His eyes a mixture of concern and confusion as they lingered on your tear-stained face.

You filled your plate with food, your hands shaking as you struggled to maintain your composure. The weight of Ghost's scrutiny felt like a physical burden. But as you made your way past Ghost's table, you couldn't bring yourself to meet his eyes. Instead, you kept your gaze fixed on the floor. Your cheeks burned with shame as you tried to hide the evidence of your recent breakdown.

With a quick nod of acknowledgment, you hurried away from Ghost's table. Your steps quickening as you sought refuge in the farthest corner of the room. You found an empty table and sat down keeping your head bowed as you focused on your food, desperate to avoid any further scrutiny. But despite your best efforts, you could still feel Ghost's gaze burning into you. His concern was a palpable presence in the empty room. You felt exposed, vulnerable, as if every inch of your skin was laid bare for him to see. And as you picked at your food, your appetite all but forgotten in the wake of your turbulent emotions. You couldn't help but wonder how long you could keep up the charade. How long before the facade you had constructed came crashing down around you?

As Ghost approached your table, his presence a calming anchor in the midst of your turbulent emotions, he gave a curt nod of acknowledgment. "Hey, kid," he greeted you in his trademark gruff tone, his voice carrying a note of concern beneath its rough exterior. "You alright?"

You tried to mask the evidence of your tears with a feeble attempt at a smile, but Ghost saw right through that. His keen eyes bore into yours, his gaze unwavering as he waited for your response.

"Yeah, just allergies acting up," you replied, your voice betraying the strain of your attempts to deflect his concern.

But Ghost wasn't fooled. He knew you better than that, could see the pain etched into every line of your face. With a grunt of acknowledgment, he accepted your explanation, though you could tell he wasn't entirely convinced.

"I won't push ya," he said with his gravelly voice, his tone softened by a rare display of empathy. "But if you ever wanna talk about it, I'm here." With a grateful nod, you thanked him and watched as he walked out of the room leaving you to your thoughts.

As the morning sun filtered through the curtains you found yourself ensnared in a labyrinth of restless thoughts. Each beam of sunlight seemed to illuminate the tangled mess of emotions that swirled within you, highlighting the heavy shroud of guilt that enveloped your very being. You had spent the night tossing and turning, your pillow dampened by tears that ebbed and flowed.

Just as you had managed to drift into a fitful slumber the persistent knocking at your door shattered the fragile semblance of peace you had managed to find. Each rap on the door felt like a blow to your already fragile composure jolting you awake from the fleeting respite of sleep. Groggy and disoriented you stumbled across the room, every step a struggle against the weight of exhaustion that hung heavy upon your shoulders.

With a heavy heart Captain John Price stood on the other side of the door, his hand hovering tentatively over the handle as he took in the sight before him. His breath caught in his throat, a pang of concern twisting in his chest at the sight of you. The vibrant energy that usually radiated from you had been replaced by a sadness he rarely saw from you. A shadow of your former self. His heart clenched with a mixture of empathy and apprehension as he took in your fragile state. Every instinct urged him to gather you into his arms, to shield you from the pain that etched lines of sorrow upon your face. But he held back, knowing that you needed space to unravel the tangled threads of your emotions in your own time. With a silent prayer on his lips, Price waited for you to acknowledge him.

"Captain, what are you doing here?" you greeted him with a ghost of a smile, though it failed to reach your eyes, which still held traces of the turbulent night you had endured.

Price's gaze softened at the sight of you, his concern etched into every line of his expression. "Hey love," he greeted softly, his voice carrying a gentle warmth that offered solace in the midst of your turmoil. "Missed you this morning at PT. Everything alright?"

You forced a tight-lipped smile, the effort of masking your inner turmoil nearly unbearable. Every word you spoke felt like a weight upon your chest, each syllable a struggle against the overwhelming tide of emotions threatening to engulf you. "Yeah, just feeling a bit under the weather," you replied, your voice strained with the weight of the unspoken troubles that gnawed at your conscience. Price's brow furrowed deeper in concern as he studied your haggard appearance. His gaze lingered on you, searching for answers in the depths of your tired eyes, his intuition telling him that there was more to your distress than a simple case of illness.

"You sure that's all it is?" he pressed gently, his voice laced with a mixture of concern and skepticism. He had known you long enough to recognize when something weighed heavily on your mind, and the mask you wore now couldn't conceal the truth from him.

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat making it difficult to respond. The weight of your secrets threatened to suffocate you, but you clung to the fragile facade you had constructed, unwilling to burden him with the weight of your troubles. "Yeah, just... a rough night," you murmured, the words tasting bitter on your tongue as you forced them past the lump that lodged there.

Price had always treated you differently, with a softness he never seemed to reserve for the others. From the moment you joined Task Force 141, he recognized the weight of the horrors that came with the job. He made it his mission to be there for you in a way that went beyond mere professional obligation. He became your confidant, your sounding board, the one person you could turn to when the darkness threatened to overwhelm you. His gentle demeanor and unwavering kindness provided a safe haven in the chaos of missions and the toll they took on your spirit.

Price's gaze softened with understanding as he reached out to gently squeeze your arm. His touch was a far cry from the man a few nights ago. He was that comforting anchor in the storm of your emotions.

"You don't have to face it alone, you know," he whispered, his voice a soothing balm to your weary soul. "Whatever it is, you can talk to me. You can always talk to me, love."

Indeed, Price's tenderness towards you was unmistakable. While you were every bit a soldier like the rest, he recognized that you were different. The things you witnessed and the actions you took on these missions slowly started eating away at you long ago. But Price was there offering solace and understanding. His affection for you growing deeper with each shared moment of vulnerability.

Over the three years of working together Price found himself drawn to more than just your skills and abilities. It was your spirit, your unwavering determination, and your unique personality that captivated him. At first it was subtle, just a flicker of admiration for the way you handled yourself under pressure, the way you never backed down from a challenge. But as time went on and he got to know you better, that admiration blossomed into something deeper. He found himself enchanted by the fire in your eyes when you spoke passionately about something you believed in. He admired the way you never lost your humanity, even in the midst of the darkest missions. Your compassion and empathy for others in the face of danger touched something within him that he hadn't realized was missing.

Price began to notice the small things about you, the adorable quirks that made you uniquely yourself. He found himself smiling at your jokes, laughing at your antics, and feeling a sense of peace whenever you were around. He cherished the moments when you let your guard down and allowed him to see the vulnerable side of you. He felt honored that you trusted him with your fears and insecurities.

As the years went by, Price realized that his feelings for you had evolved beyond mere admiration. He was in love with you. He loved the way you made him feel alive, the way you challenged him to be a better man, and the way you brought light into his dark world. But even as his feelings grew, Price knew that he could never act on them. Not while he was your Captain and the stakes of their missions remained so high. So, he buried his feelings deep inside. He was content to love you from afar and grateful for the opportunity to know you. Even if it meant keeping his emotions hidden.

Soap, Ghost, and Gaz were like a finely tuned unit, attuned not only to the dynamics of the battlefield but also to the subtleties of their comrades' interactions. They noticed the way Price's demeanor would shift whenever you entered the room. The slight softening of his usually stern expression, the warmth that crept into his eyes as they lingered on you, and the way his voice would adopt a gentler tone when he spoke to you. It was unmistakable to them though they never openly acknowledged it.

In their downtime when the mission chatter had quieted, and they found themselves lounging around the base, the guys would exchange knowing glances whenever Price's attention seemed to linger on you a little longer than necessary. Soap might chuckle and nudge Ghost, raising an eyebrow in silent communication that spoke volumes about Price's apparent fondness for you. Ghost, ever the silent observer, would offer a small smirk in return, his eyes gleaming with amusement as he watched Price navigate the delicate balance between professionalism and the undeniable affection he held for you.

Gaz, always one for a bit of banter, wouldn't hesitate to make playful remarks whenever the opportunity presented itself. He'd tease Price about being extra protective of you during missions, jokingly suggesting that Price had a soft spot for you that he couldn't quite hide. Price would roll his eyes in response, brushing off Gaz's comments with a gruff retort. But the slight flush that colored his cheeks betrayed the truth behind Gaz's jests.

Despite their teasing, Soap, Ghost, and Gaz respected the unspoken boundaries that surrounded Price's feelings for you. They knew that his affection for you was genuine and deep-rooted, and they never pushed him to confront it unless he was ready. As for you, you might have been the only one oblivious to the undercurrent of emotions swirling around Price. To you he remained the steadfast leader, unwavering in his commitment to the mission and the safety of his team. His true feelings were well hidden behind a mask of professionalism and duty.

Tears welled in your eyes as you struggled to find the courage to vocalize the turmoil that had been devouring you from within. The weight of your confession hung heavy upon your shoulders. Each word feeling like a jagged stone forced from your chest. "I... I had a little too much to drink while everyone was gone," you confessed, your voice barely rising above a whisper, as if you were afraid the words themselves would shatter the fragile sanctuary you had built around yourself. "And... I did things... things I didn't want to do."

As you spoke, the air in the room seemed to thicken with a suffocating sense of shame. You couldn't bring yourself to meet Price's gaze. You feared the judgment you were sure would reflect in his eyes. But when you finally summoned the courage to glance up, the expression etched on Price's face was not one of condemnation but of utmost concern. His features tightened with an intensity that mirrored the turmoil raging within him. His heart twisted with a potent blend of anger and sorrow at the thought of someone exploiting your vulnerability in such a despicable manner. But despite the roiling emotions churning beneath the surface, he remained stoically composed. He understood that now was not the time for upsetting you even further.

"Coerced..." you added, your voice trembling with shame as you unveiled the truth that had festered within you like a poison, eating away at your sense of self-worth with every passing moment. "I tried to resist, but... he wouldn't listen. He wouldn’t take no for an answer."

As the weight of your confession hung heavy in the air between you, you couldn't help but feel a surge of relief wash over you. As if the simple act of vocalizing your pain had lifted a burden that had threatened to crush you. Despite the shame that threatened to consume you there was a profound sense of solace in knowing that you were no longer bearing this burden alone. That you had finally allowed yourself to be vulnerable in front of the one person you trusted implicitly.

In that moment of raw honesty, you couldn't help but wonder if Price understood the depth of your feelings for him. If he could see beyond the facade you presented to the world and glimpse the tangled mess of emotions that lay hidden beneath the surface. As you spoke you couldn't deny the palpable sense of comfort that enveloped you. It was as if in allowing yourself to be vulnerable with Price you had discovered a sanctuary where judgment held no power, where acceptance reigned supreme. Captain John Price was the best of men.

And as Price listened his gaze never wavering from yours, you couldn't shake the feeling that he knew on some level the depth of your affection for him. Perhaps it was the gentleness in his touch, the understanding in his eyes, or the unwavering support he offered without hesitation. Whatever the reason, you found yourself daring to hope that maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way. As the weight of your confession hung heavy in the air between you, you realized with startling clarity that Price was more than just a trusted confidant. He was your rock, your pillar of strength in a world filled with uncertainty and doubt. And as the realization settled deep within your heart, you couldn't help but acknowledge the truth that had been staring you in the face all along: you loved him, in a way that transcended mere friendship.

With each passing moment, the bond between you and Price grew stronger, forged in the chaos of shared experiences and unwavering support. And as you looked into his eyes seeing the reflection of your own emotions mirrored back at you, you knew without a doubt that you could tell him anything, and he would be right there for you, no matter what.

Price's grip on your arm tightened ever so slightly as you made your confession. His touch both grounding and reassuring in its strength. His resolve hardened as he fought back the surge of protectiveness that threatened to consume him. "I'm here for you," he reassured you, his voice unwavering in its conviction. "Whatever you need, I'll do everything in my power to help you through this."

As Price listened to your trembling words a whirlwind of emotions roiled within him. Anger burned hot in his chest at the thought of someone taking advantage of you. His fists clenched with the urge to seek retribution. But beneath the rage a deeper sense of sorrow welled up aching with empathy for the pain you had endured alone. "I will always be here for you," he murmured again. As the weight of your confession settled upon you both Price felt a swell of tenderness wash over him, mingling with the fierce determination that burned within him. He wanted nothing more than to wrap you in his arms, to shield you from the pain that gnawed at your soul.

With a gentle hand he lifted your chin, meeting your tear-filled gaze with unwavering reassurance. His heart clenched at the sight of your vulnerability, and he couldn't help but brush away the tears that traced delicate paths down your cheeks. "You're not alone. I promise you that," he whispered, his voice infused with a quiet strength that resonated deep within you. "I'll be right here, every step of the way." And as he spoke those words you felt a sense of solace wash over you. You knew that you could lean on him, trust in him.

Against his better judgment, Price drew you into his embrace. His arms encircling you with a tenderness that concealed the strength of his resolve. He held you close as you surrendered to the flood of tears that just kept coming. "It's okay," he murmured softly, his voice a gentle reassurance in the midst of your turmoil. "I've got you. You're safe now."

His heart clenched at the sight of your vulnerability. He couldn't help but brush his hand through your hair. His touch a comforting caress that made you shiver. With each stroke he hoped to ease the burden that weighed so heavily upon your shoulders.

"You're not alone love," he whispered in reassurance. His voice a quiet promise against the chaos of your emotions. "I'm here for you, always." He said once more letting you know that he wasn’t going anywhere. He continued to hold you as the tears slowly subsided. His silent grasp on you a vow to stand by your side through every trial and tribulation that may lay ahead.

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l0v3tast3 · 2 years ago

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do you think we could get the 141 bois with a military!reader who had a guard/attack dog with them, and went out on missions with reader, and the dog got KIA’d, and reader is taking it harshly, because they grew attached to said dog?

My dog recently passed away and I kinda just.. need some 141 bois.

🥃-

✎ i'm so sorry to hear that honey :( losing an animal is a horrible pain and i hope you're doing okay!!

✎ tags : gender neutral!reader, angst but i tried to keep it vague, otherwise pretty much just platonic fluff, not proofread

♡ to put it mildly, the 141 guys thought you were a bit weird when you first joined, along with your dog. you spent more time with the animal than you did with humans, training, doting, just generally being in the same space.

♡ eventually the team came to understand your bond together, and who doesn't love dogs? while it was always yours, it also kind of became the team's dog.

♡ so when price had to haul you over his shoulder while you screamed at him to let you go, to let you back in that ruined building, they all felt it. they felt it the entire way back to base, the absence of the waging tail and you cooing at it on the entire helicopter ride back.

♡ you try to pretend like you're doing okay for a couple of days afterward. brief smiles that didn't fit right on your sunken face, exchanging polite greetings that sounded so dull. they walk on eggshells, always unsure of what to say to help you.

♡ they wait for you to break, and when you finally do, they send kyle in first. they figure he has the best shot of conveying their empathy to you (he's just as awkward as the rest of them, he just volunteered himself to try to help you first because they were all just staring at each other when soap brought it up).

♡ he brings you a case of bottles of your favorite drink and snacks, dropping them on your desk before sitting next to you on your bed. he asks you faintly if you want to talk about it.

♡ he lets you get it out, lets you cry and rant and whatever you need in that moment while he sits with you. when your tears finally run dry and the weight in your chest doesn't feel as empty, kyle gives you a hug and rubs your back for a few moments.

♡ the other three men are waiting when he comes out, and kyle shrugs and says he thinks he helped. soap snorted and asked him "what's that mean?" and kyle explains briefly what happened.

♡ they manage to coax you out of your room the next day. ghost and price were somewhere else on the base, and kyle had taken over soap's attempt at cooking eggs (i sincerely believe soap can only cook well enough to keep himself alive while kyle is actually pretty good). they sit you down and make you eat. soap takes the credit for the eggs even though you obviously saw kyle finishing them, and it makes you laugh a bit.

♡ they drag you to sparring practice, despite your many, many protests. you find that that's where ghost and price have been. they put you up against ghost first, and you're convinced that they're trying to make you more depressed now.

♡ as soon as he's coming at you, you're in "soldier mode" again and just focus on trying not to land on your ass too hard when he throws you down. usually you're a good sport and always shake hands after the rounds, but frustration was bubbling up quick today with every time you got pinned. you found yourself putting more and more into it, until you were actually fighting, clawing, biting, doing whatever you could. ghost let you and he took it easily. it was exactly what he would have needed if he were in your position; he still didn't just let you win, though.

♡ soap doesn't really know how to help you in a big way, so he just makes sure the little things are taken care of. he helps you clean your weapons and makes sure kyle buys the right drinks for you when he sends him out even though kyle knows what to get. he sticks around you but doesn't make it seem like you're on suicide watch or anything, just that you don't have to be alone for too long. he makes sure you eat, and you always answer "yes" because you don't even want him to offer to cook for you.

♡ it takes a couple of months before you're almost back to your normal self. there's always something missing, and you still reach down to your side on instinct, but the pit in your stomach stops opening quite as wide. you learn how to remember the happy memories again.

♡ when you're ready and if you feel like it, price is the one that takes you to start looking for a new furry friend. you know everything there is to know about dogs, and he knows you know it all, but you still get lectured about what to look for and what to avoid and not to get too close in case they try to bite. basically, he just becomes your father.

♡ "not that one, 's lookin' at me funny," he'll say once you start looking at them. "that one won't even make it through the heli ride!" basically, he thinks none of the dogs here are good enough for you, even though they're all wonderful in their own ways. he almost walks away when you kneel down and start giving scratches to a pomeranian that hadn't stopped yipping since you'd walked in.

♡ while they may all be emotionally-stunted men, they know what loss is like. they'll be there for you in the ways that matter.

#call of duty #modern warfare 2 #cod mwii #drabble #headcanons #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #john soap mactavish #john mactavish x reader #ghost x reader #soap x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick x reader #gaz x reader #john price #john price x reader #fanfiction #— lilly writes! ��

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its-the-pilot · 1 year ago

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Waves | Rooster x Reader

| Waves Masterlist | Masterlist |

My first Top Gun fic, please be nice and enjoy!

Summary: Fourteen years after leaving without saying goodbye, Bradley Bradshaw comes back into your life. (Mav's niece!reader)

Warnings: swearing, adult banter

Length: 2k words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Working on this as a series, let me know what you think and if you want to see more!

Message or comment to join the taglist!

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Chapter One

“Bradshaw, as I live and breathe.”

Bradley immediately recognized the voice behind him without needing to turn around. He shook his head before downing the shot of bourbon in his hand and throwing his next dart, scoring 13. He’d never claimed to be good, but the unwelcome distraction didn’t help. “Hangman. You look… good,” he replied flatly, turning to face his fellow aviator.

Both men were wearing their service whites, customary for the mixer held for TOP GUN students the night before beginning training. “Well, I am good, Rooster. I'm very good. In fact, I am too good to be true,” Hangman gave his usual smirk as he picked up Rooster’s last dart from the table and threw it, hitting the bullseye without even looking. “Didn’t think they let old timers in.”

They had met a few years earlier in flight school, and they instantly had a rivalry of sorts. Bradley had been several years older than the rest of the pilots in the program, due to not being able to attend the Naval Academy like he wanted. It took him years longer than it should have to become an aviator, and there was a bit of a chip on his shoulder because of it. Hangman, cocksure as ever, had instantly picked up on that weakness and exploited it to the best of his ability, pointing it out every chance he got. Some things never changed.

“Didn’t think they let assholes in either, but here you are,” Rooster shot back, taking a long pull from the beer on the table beside him before moving to gather his darts off the board.

The younger man chuckled, the insult seeming to roll off him like water off a duck’s back. “C’mon now, Rooster, we’re old buddies! Some older than others,” He smirked, sneaking in another jab as he patted him on the back. “Don’t take it so personal.” Hangman did a quick once over of the bar, his grin still firmly affixed to his face as he noted the number of women in attendance for the evening. “Plenty of delectable dessert options tonight, why are you holed up over here all by your lonesome?”

“I’m here to fly, not fuck my way through Coronado.”

A boisterous laugh escaped the tall blonde’s mouth. “Someone doesn’t know how to take advantage of a situation when it presents itself. Your callsign really is fitting.” Straightening his uniform, Hangman’s eyes locked on to a pretty woman approaching the bar. “If you can’t get laid in Whites, you just don’t know what you’re doing. Watch and learn, Rooster.”

Bradley rolled his eyes and turned back to his dart game, draining his beer as Hangman walked away. As fun as it might be, he had no desire to watch him make a fool of himself in front of an entire bar with his cocky attitude.

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

You recited the drink order for your table a few times in your head as you walked up to the bar, raising your hand to get the bartender’s attention. Your coworkers Kendra and Hazel had wanted to come out tonight, knowing that the new crop of TOP GUN candidates would be here, dressed to the nines. You hadn’t been interested but they wore you down, telling you they would pay for your drinks if you just kept them company for a few hours. You secretly hoped it wouldn't take them long to find a couple guys to take home, so you could get on with your uneventful evening of laundry and prepping for work.

“3 beers, 3 vodka shots,” you ordered, passing a $5 tip across the bar. Sliding onto a barstool as you waited, you made a cursory glance around the bar and groaned to yourself, shaking your head. You couldn’t understand what the appeal was, most aviators had more balls than brains and were just looking for a quick lay.

It only took a minute of waiting for your drinks before you felt a warm, solid presence accompanied by a pair of hands resting on the bar top on either side of you, covered in white sleeves. “Not interested,” you said in a sing-songy voice, not even needing to look up to know it was a new TOP GUN aviator standing with his chest pressed gently against your back.

“Not even gonna give me a chance?” He asked, his southern drawl coming out as he leaned close to your ear.

You turned as much as you were able with his body so close and gave him a look, your eyebrow raised. He was handsome, tall and blonde, with striking green eyes, but his uniform was enough to turn you off. “Nope. I don’t date aviators.” Lord knew you had a lifetime’s worth of experience with them.

Your uncle Pete “Maverick” Mitchell had raised you from the time you were eight years old, after your parents died in a car accident. Growing up around Navy pilots gave you an aversion to them, and in your line of work, that was more helpful than you could imagine. You worked with aviators day in and day out in your job as an Aerospace Psychologist, and getting personally invested with the pilots would have consequences.

He chuckled, leaning back only slightly to allow your movement as his eyes traveled over your body. You wore a cabernet colored maxi dress with wedge sandals tied to your feet with white ribbons, like pointe shoes, and you had never felt more exposed than you did right then as he licked his lips, looking at you like prey. “You’re in the wrong place then, darlin’. We’re all aviators around here.”

“Well aware,” you sighed, turning back to the bar and waiting for your drinks. When the bartender approached and set your drinks down, you smiled warmly at her. “Thank you, Penny.”

The older woman grinned back, always happy to see you. She’d known you most of your life, though she was in and out of it at the will of your uncle, a typical flyboy incapable of settling down. You would never understand why she kept coming back to him after he broke her heart so many times. “Who’s your friend?” she asked, looking him over briefly. Penny knew how you felt about Navy guys, but she enjoyed teasing you.

“Not my--”

“Lieutenant Jake Seresin, ma’am. Callsign Hangman.” He offered his most charming smile as he cut you off and lifted his right hand from the bar to offer it to Penny.

You immediately took the opportunity to duck under his arm, grabbing the drinks on the bar in front of you. Penny laughed as Jake watched you slide away from him and head back to the table with your coworkers. “Better behave, she’s the owner,” you called back, your hands full of glasses.

“A pleasure, Lieutenant,” she took his hand and shook it before wiping down the bar where your drinks had just been. His eyes followed you across the bar, and she snapped the back of his hand with the towel. “You won’t wear her down. She’s got a million reasons not to go anywhere near Navy guys. There’s plenty of other fish in the sea.”

When you got back to your table, you snuck a glance back toward the bar, watching Penny give Jake what she was sure was a warning about you. He didn’t look phased though, and within minutes he had moved on to another girl a few seats away at the bar, repeating the same move he had done with you.

“Predictable,” you muttered, rolling your eyes as your coworkers chatted, rating the various aviators in the bar. You largely ignored them as you took a long drink from your beer, looking out the window at the sun setting over the ocean when you heard the tinkle of piano keys interrupting your thoughts. The old upright in the bar hadn’t been played in as long as you could remember, usually the only time you heard it at all was when someone got too drunk and fell into it.

From your seat you could only see the back of the man playing, but you could tell he was an aviator. Dressed in his service whites, his broad shoulders were pulled back with perfect posture as he tapped away at the keys, getting the feel for the instrument before he started playing an all too familiar song.

“You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain, Too much love drives a man insane…”

The sound of his voice made your stomach flip as if you were in a F/A-18. “No fucking way…” you breathed, not taking your eyes off of the back of the man’s head as he played.

“What?” Kendra asked, stopping her conversation with Hazel to turn in the direction of the piano player, then back to you, confused as to your reaction.

You didn’t answer as you stood, your steps cautious as you made your way across the bar in his direction. It couldn’t be. It had been nearly fifteen years since you last heard from him, the night he left for the last time.

Without saying goodbye.

“Jesus, Bradshaw! Not this song again! Is it the only one you know?” Hangman complained, not far from the piano and chatting up what was probably his fourth girl of the evening. Hearing his name was all the confirmation you needed.

Bradley wasn’t deterred by Hangman’s whining, instead he just continued singing, the bar joining in. He had always been good at being the center of attention when he wanted to be.

“You broke my will, but what a thrill, Goodness gracious, great balls of fire!”

Moving closer, you slipped into his line of sight without a word, a combination of emotions you didn’t understand bubbling up inside of you. He looked just like his father from the pictures you had seen, but at the same time he was still the teenager you had known so long ago.

“I laughed at love ‘cause I thought it was funny, You came along and…”

Looking up, his voice trailed off and his fingers faltered on the keys, making a sour note as he made eye contact with you. There was a long, awkward moment of silence as the entire bar watched on, curious as to what was happening.

He couldn't believe you were standing in front of him. The last place he had expected to find you was anywhere near anything having to do with the Navy, even if it was just a bar. And now here you were, staring at him as if you were seeing a ghost. Though he supposed he didn't look too much different. “You look good, Dimples.”

Your breath hitched in your throat at the nickname, and before you knew what you were doing, your hand reached out and slapped him across the face as hard as you could. The same hand flew to cover your mouth as you gasped at the realization of what you did. He didn’t immediately turn his head back to face you, and it made you feel even more nauseous.

It was so quiet a pin could drop. Embarrassment flooded over you and your eyes moved around the bar frantically before landing back on Bradley. When you realized his eyes were still on you, a sob only muffled by your hand escaped before you turned and ran out the back doors to the beach, barely stopping to get your purse and tell your friends you were going home on your way out.

There was no way this wouldn't be the talk of North Island tomorrow.

It remained silent until the door to the deck slammed shut behind you, then people started whispering amongst themselves, stealing glances at Bradley. Hangman had a smug grin on his lips as he stepped up behind his fellow aviator, clapping a hand on his shoulder as he leaned down to speak quietly.

“Damn, Rooster. I thought I was the only one who could earn that level of ire from women. Kinda hot, right?”

He shoved Jake’s hand away and stood, grabbing his cover off the top of the piano before heading toward the door you had exited from. “Fuck off, Bagman,” he snapped, hoping you hadn’t gotten too far.

Chapter Two

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x oc #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw angst #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley bradshaw fic #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #top gun fic

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treasuringizu · 2 years ago

Text

"𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐃𝐢𝐝 𝐘𝗼𝐮 𝐒𝐚𝐲?"

⤷ atsumu x reader | mutual pining | 0.9k words |

“Atsumu!” You call out his name, hitting your fist against the door. “Are you here?”

It's a little late; the hallway is brightly lit, and you look up at the overhead lights, blinking and wondering if you shouldn’t have come here on such a whim. Thinking about it, you probably should have at least texted him you were coming — he might not even be here, but you were too much in a rush.

Sighing, you raise your fist again, “Atsu-”

The door flies open and your hand cuts through air instead of the solid surface. Standing there in the doorway is Atsumu, clad in a pair of black sweatpants and a loosely fitting black t-shirt to match. He’s holding onto the handle with one hand, the other resting against the side of the frame, his pink lips stretching into a sly smile. Your stomach flips a little bit. “Hey.”

“Hi.” You wring your hands together, “Um.”

He raises an eyebrow, waiting for you to continue and chuckling when you don’t. He opens the door wider. “C’mon,” he says, motioning his head inside his room. You stare at his back as you follow him in, taking in his broad shoulders and admiring the way his muscles ripple inside his shirt before closing your eyes and shaking your head. He’s not yours to look at.

Focusing instead on the room, you take note of how both sides are equally as dysfunctional. Not messy, just…crowded. “Where’s Osamu?”

He settles onto his bed, unmade, legs spread, and pushes his laptop to the side. “With Rin.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

You rock on your heels as your gaze slides all around the room, purposely avoiding his. “So…”

“So?” He tilts his head in that cute way he always does when he finally catches your eye, smiling teasingly. “I’m not complainin’ about ya bein’ here, but you look like you have something ya wanna say.”

He’s right. A wave of fervor pours over you, and you nod your head in determination to do what you came here for, pushing the creeping feeling of dejection far from your mind. “I need some answers.”

“Uh, huh.” His mouth twists in confusion. “Ta what, exactly?”

“To how long it’s going to be.” Your legs take you around the small space, pacing back and forth as you clench and unclench your fists.

“Right…” He trails off. “I’m a little lost here, sweetheart.”

You think you might melt with the affectionate name, but you brush over it. He’s just like that. “How long it’s going to be until you ask out this person you like so much.”

He suddenly tenses, back straightening and thick eyebrows furrowing. “Oh.” Brown eyes track your movement. “I’m not, uh, sure I can answer that?”

You shake your head. You think back to the conversation you guys had a few days ago, where he told you all about this person that he’s interested in. You remember him using words like so pretty, so amazing. A flush on his cheeks as he told you about why he likes them so much. Refusing to tell you who the person was, so maybe you could try to understand why it wasn’t you.

But it’s exactly that, it’s not you. But it hurts every single time you think about it.

So that’s why you ended up here, late at night, a fire in your heart. If the person Atsumu likes isn’t you, you could at least push him to go out with them. You wouldn’t be left to hopelessly pine over him, and could instead get over it as you watched him with someone else, even if it would kill you. Save yourself before you get too invested, right?

“Why not? The sooner the better. Aren’t you the one who told me that we have to go for the things we want?”

Atsumu pushes himself off the bed, long legs striding to you and big hands holding your arms to stop you from moving around. He looks very confused now. “I was?”

You ignore him. “Well then, it’s time to do something.” You make sure to look right into his eyes. “If you like them so much, there’s only one thing to do.”

The grip on your arms tighten, and you shift your hands up to hold on to his elbows. His eyes widen, and you watch as different emotions pass through his face before an excited grin grows. He studies you, “How long have ya felt this way?”

“Since you told me.” You try to match his smile, despite the way your chest sinks. “Be brave, Atsumu. I know you are.”

“Yeah.” he nods, eagerly, bleached hair following the jerks of his head. “Yeah, okay.”

Your gaze drops to the floor. “Great…” Great.

At least one of you guys will get to be with who they want to. You just wish he wanted you.

You try to leave his hold, but his hands just squeeze your arms, your name falling from his lips in a soft breath.

He gives you that smile, not the confident volleyball player one, but the one that you catch him with when he’s petting a puppy, or when he’s talking to his mother on the phone and he thinks no one is looking. The one that’s reserved for soft moments, and your heart constricts. But it’s not prepared for what comes out of his mouth next.

“Will ya go out with me?”

#releasing into the void #.atsumu #.kc writes #.hq #atsumu x reader #haikyuu x reader #atsumu miya x reader #miya atsumu x reader #my love #atsumu drabble #haikyuu drabble #not checked for mistakes posting raw #ill check later #2 am things

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strniohoeee · 10 months ago

Note

angst with chris where reader storms out of the guys's house after he said many harsh things and doesn't answer his calls for days so matt and nick intervene

Cease

Pairing: Chris Sturniolo X Female Reader

Synopsis: Y/N is trying to understand Chris, but he can’t see the issue. Grown tired by his ways an argument ensues and many things go wrong….will the reader take him back or leave him? 🍂

Warnings⚠️: None, a bit of toxic Chris?? That’s about all….its kind of short too😔

Also combined with this request: chris being a toxic boyfriend but reader can't leave him bc she loves him too much but after matt, nick and her bestfriend talk to her into leaving him she confronts him

Song for imagine: Please Don’t Leave Me- P!nk

I always say how I don’t need you

But it’s always gonna come right

Back to this

Please, don't leave me

“What now? What did I do now?” Chris asks scoffing and shutting the door behind him

“Why do you act so clueless?” I asked turning around after walking into his room fully

“You always assume I’m doing something, but I’m not” he replied sitting against his computer desk

“Chris behind closed doors it’s always I love you and you’re the best, but out in public or around your brothers you’re so different” I replied sitting on his bed

“No I’m not” he said throwing his hands up

“Yes Chris you are! Actions speak louder than words” I said shaking my head

“I’m sorry that I don’t live up your ass 24/7 like what more do you want?” He asked laughing dryly

“You’re an ass” I said shaking my head

“Grow up would you?” He said rolling his eyes at me

“How about you grow up” I said slapping my hands on my thighs

“You always throw these temper tantrums it’s insane” he said

“I’m sorry but after trying to talk to you nicely about what’s wrong in our relationship, and it goes through one ear and out the other…..yeah I’m started to throw a fit” I said sarcastically

“There’s nothing wrong in our relationship you simply read into things too much” he says rubbing his face

“Chris I do not! I just want you to treat me the same way always” I said rolling my neck

“I don’t know what you expect from me when you knew what you signed up for” he said looking at me

“What I signed up for? What’s that supposed to mean?” I said furrowing my eyebrows

“You know I have commitment issues and you know you’re my first real relationship” he said calmly

“Why is that an excuse? If you don’t want to be with me then say that. We’re supposed to work things out and communicate” I said to him

“Well the issues are one sided” he said

“Why can’t you just see what you’re doing is wrong instead of gaslighting me” I said standing up and shaking my head

“I’m not gaslighting you” he said in a dumbfounded way

“You need to figure out what’s going on because I can’t do this anymore” I said

“I don’t understand what more you want from me” he said

“That’s all you ever say Christopher! You’re listening but you’re not hearing me….” I said sighing

“Well then…” he said shrugging his shoulders

“I’m your girlfriend, not your homeboy” I said walking towards his door

“Then maybe you shouldn’t be my girlfriend” he said looking over his shoulder at me

“Really Chris?” I said grabbing the door handle

“Yes Y/N” he said annoyed

“You know maybe I thought wrong….maybe you aren’t mature enough for a relationship, and when you push your ego aside give me a call” I said opening his door

“Don’t hold your breath” he replied

My face relaxed and I blinked slowly at him…..did he really just say that…

“Fuck you Chris” I said

“Real mature of you grow up” he said shooing me away

I slammed his door shut and stomped up the stairs walking past Nick and Matt and out the front door.

I drove home in a fit of rage not even realizing I got home. I slammed my bedroom door shut and paced around

I had no tears left for him. I’ve wasted so many days and so many tears on him, and for what? For nothing because he doesn’t care.

Chris was never this toxic, not even as a friend, so I couldn’t understand what his issue was. I mean really? What was his issue

I began to breathe heavily as I let the anger take over me. How could I be an idiot for so long? Thinking he’d change from my words? I was so stupid

It had been a week since Chris and I’s argument, and I tried to reach out to him and he had been ignoring me. Leaving me on delivered, but still posting on Instagram and TikTok. That made me more upset because he was actively ignoring me and he didn’t give a fuck about it

I had FaceTimed Nick, Matt and Larray

“Hey guys” I said

“Hi” they all replied

“So what’s going on with you and Chris?” Nick asked

“I don’t know we got into our argument and it’s been a week and he’s been actively ignoring me” I said rubbing my temples

“I love you Y/N and I love Chris, but if you guys don’t talk this out I don’t think you should be together” Larray said

“That’s what he implied….that he wanted to break up with me” I said shrugging my shoulders

“He’s been going on with life like nothing happened” Matt said

“That’s his problem…he doesn’t want to change unless it benefits himself. He gaslights me and thinks that I’m making issues up” I said

“He’s so fucking toxic girl” Larray said

“He is and I don’t even know what to do” I said

“I think you need to break up with him” Nick said

“I don’t want to because I love him so much” I said shaking my head

“And we know, and he loves you too but I don’t think he’s ready to love you in the way you want him to” Matt said

“I guess you’re right” I said sighing

“I think I’m going to convince him to go over to your house and I want you guys to hash this out” Nick said

“He doesn’t want to be bothered by me” I replied

“No Y/N enough! Stop letting him hurt you. Put your foot down and if he doesn’t care then just leave him. He’s my brother but you’re also my best friend and he’s hurting you badly” Nick replied

“You’re right” I said nodding

“Please for us just get him to see what he’s doing” Matt said

“Okay I will” I replied

“Let us know what happened…love you girl” Larray said

“Love you guys and I’ll talk to you later” I said and hung up

One part of me really wanted to talk to Chris and make this work, but another twisted part of me wanted this to be over…. I couldn’t hurt myself for much longer…. I was growing tired of his actions.

About an hour later my phone started ringing, I looked down at the screen and my heart sank

Chris❤️‍🔥

“Hello” I said picking up the phone

“Hi” he replied quietly

“Having fun ignoring me” I said sarcastically

“No…I just needed time to think” he said

“Okay and?” I replied

“Can I come over?” He asked

“…..yeah” I whispered out

“I’ll be there in 20” he said and hung up

What was I doing? I should’ve told him no or I should’ve dumped him….. my mind was racing and I was getting anxious

About 20 minutes later I heard a knock on my door, so I got up and opened the door to a very sad Chris

“Come in” I said moving out the way for him

He walked in and we went to my living room, sitting on the couch waiting for one of us to speak

“So” he said

“Listen Chris. I said some things that were hurtful last week, but I can not punish myself for the way I feel. I could’ve gone about it better, but you needed to hear the harsh truth. I love you a lot and I really want to be with you, but you are toxic…..I’m not sure that I can put up with that” I said looking at him

“Y/N I love you too, and you’ve been very patient with me. Patient when you shouldn’t have been. You should've left me. I don’t know why I do this….sabotage everything around me. I have commitment issues, but I know I want to be with you. I’m stuck in my own ways and that haunts me and it hurts you and I don’t know if I can ever change” he said looking at me

“Chris I want to help you change, but you have to accept the help. You’re a great guy and you have a lot of love in your heart, but you don’t know what to do with it” I replied

“You’re my first girlfriend and I guess I got scared. Scared that I could never love you how I should, so I figured it’s easier to be awful and make you hate me, but I realized how stupid that is because I love you so much” he said

“This is why communication is key. I want to help you be better. But you have to take advice and better yourself from it. I’m not perfect at all, but I would never do anything to hurt you like how you have hurt me” I said looking at him

“I’m sorry….I really am” he said shaking his head

“It’s okay Chris, I can not hold this against you” I said smiling softly at him

“I don’t want to break up with you. I want to be better and I want you to feel loved everywhere not just behind closed doors” he said

“Okay” I said nodding

“I love you” he replied smiling at me

“I love you too” I said smiling back

Chris wiped his eyes as he let a few tears slip, and my heart shattered. He was just a boy who wanted to love just as much as he had been loved, but wasn’t sure how. I felt for him and I truly wanted us to work

I leaned over and wiped his tears, rubbing his cheek with my thumb and smiling at him.

“I’ll be here for you” I said leaning in and kissing him

“I’m so sorry for everything I’ve done and said. I promise to be better” he said after we broke away from the kiss

“Okay my love” I said running my hand through his hair

That night Chris and I talked more about our feelings and what we want to fix about our relationship. I really loved the kid and I’m glad we were able to work things out.

The End

Alrightttttt I hope you guys liked this one!🤭🤭🤭 I love yall dearly and stay tuned for my posts!🥹🖤🖤

-J💅🏽

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets imagines #christopher sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x reader

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sapphickorro · 2 years ago

Text

Black Sheep´ˎ˗

Pairing(s) - intersex!virgin!Natasha Romanoff x fem!Reader

summary: The mysterious girl of the campus shows up to a party for the first time, turns out you’re the first person to get to know her in more ways than one.

warnings: 18+ MDNI, blow jobs, frat party, college!reader and college!natasha, loss of virginity, first time, natasha has a dick, dirty talk, smut

word count: 2,308

ao3 - masterlist

End of exam parties were a big thing at your university. Friends of friends were invited to one giant frat house to celebrate the last major party before winter break. There’d be so many partygoers to the point that people would start to shift outside to the front lawn to party. You were sat on a couch scoping the room out for a potential hookup. Your friend group surrounded you talking about menial things until your friend’s voice broke you out of your trance.

“Holy shit, is that Natasha Romanoff?”

You twist your head to the area they were all looking at. A red haired girl was standing by the door with a red cup in her hand clearly looking as if she didn’t want to be there. She was dressed like a secret agent trying not to be spotted. A completely black attire topped off with a black leather jacket.

Natasha Romanoff was the black sheep of the campus. She wasn’t shy, she was just reserved. Never raising her hand to answer questions in class, never going out of her way to make friends. If you had books in your hands and needed a door opened, she would never be the one to go out of her way to open it.

She was the definition of mysterious, having no social media, no friend group, and always wearing those wired earbuds to drown the world out. You would either think she was weird or extremely attractive. She was definitely easy on the eyes so most girls on the campus were caught fawning over her, wanting to be the one to break her cold facade.

“I’m surprised she decided to show up.” Your friends started talking about the stories they heard about her, whether they were true or not.

“Well I think you should go talk to her.” Darcy, one of your closest friends, nudges your elbow catching you staring at her.

“I don’t know…she seems like she’d want to be left alone.” You turn to look back at your friend.

“Maybe she secretly has a warm gooey side to her that someone needs to unlock. I would try but I don’t know if Jane would be very happy with me flirting with her.”

“You know what else is warm and gooey?” Your other friend, Valkyrie says. You roll your eyes as everyone around you starts to laugh at the innuendo. “Alright, I’m gonna ditch you guys and hang out with a MUCH cooler person.” You get up to walk to Natasha and you hear your friends cheering you on behind you.

Your brain goes through every possible thing to say to her but when you finally reach her, all that comes out of your mouth is, “Hey.”

She stares at you and you falter under her gaze. Every ounce of confidence leaving you at the awkwardness of the situation. “I didn’t see you as a party type of person.” You add, trying to get a conversation flowing between the two of you.

She doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. She just stares at you as if she didn’t understand what you were saying. “Okay! Good talk. Have fun!” You say throwing up finger guns and slowly backing out of there. You hide yourself behind the crowd of dancers at the center of the house and speed walk back to your friend group.

You friends notice you and start to berate you with questions.”What did she smell like?” “No, better yet, what did she sound like? Does she have an accent?” “Was she as cool as we imagined?”

“She didn’t say anything, she just stared at me.” You say grabbing your drink off the coffee table and chugging it. You tell your friends about everything that happened in the short three minutes that you were there and they burst into a laughing fit.

“Wait, you threw up FINGER GUNS?” Darcy grabs your shoulders, shaking you. “You have absolutely no game. No wonder she just stared at you.” Monica adds.

“Okay, guys. What if English isn’t her first language and she was staring at Y/N because she didn’t understand what she was saying. What if she’s so mysterious because she literally doesn’t speak English.” Kate tries to pitch in with everyone replying with mixed reactions.

“Why would she attend an all American college IN America if she didn’t understand English. I’m calling b.s.” Monica logics back and everyone breaks into an argument about what they think Natasha’s story was. You were just glad that they dropped how embarrassing your interaction with her was.

The party was slowly fizzling out. People had left to go get food or to have hookups. Thor and Carol thought it’d be fun to have all the remaining people play a game of seven (or more) minutes in heaven.

You’re all sat on the floor of the guest bedroom in the house and a glass bottle gets placed in the middle. “Alright, is everyone playing?” Thor asks as he takes his seat.

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice red hair walk in and stand by the door frame.

“Natasha, you playing?” He asks and doesn’t receive an answer back. The silence becomes awkward as he lets out a cough and says, “Okay then, I assume this means Natasha is playing.”

Everyone takes turns spinning the bottle, some people returning from the closet with their clothes wrinkled and hair messy. When it becomes your turn, you cross your fingers hoping for someone you knew to hopefully ease the awkwardness.

It lands on Natasha and everyone gasps. You watch as she walks to the closet and you stand up following suit. Your friends hoot and holler behind you.

When you enter the closet, you notice how there’s enough room for four people to fit but no more. You close the door behind you and you quickly open your mouth. “You know, we don’t have to do-”

“I’m sorry about earlier.” She nonchalantly says to you, causing your eyes to widen by a fraction. You quickly relax trying to not make the atmosphere as awkward as it was earlier.

“I wasn’t sure what to say because I think you’re very attractive. I’m not used to pretty girls trying to talk to me.” For the first time, you catch her looking down at the ground. Her hands folded in front of her chest.

“You think I’m pretty?” She lightly nods and your face warms up. “But you’ve only just met me. I’m sure there’s many other girls who are very pretty and try to talk to you.”

“Actually, I knew you before the party. You sit in front of me in bio class.” Natasha looks up at you again, her face is emotionless, making you unsure about how she actually feels.

“You…noticed me?” You’re surprised that Natasha Romanoff was more perspective than you and everyone else thought she was. You’re even more surprised that she’s admitting to admiring you.

“Is that creepy?” You hear a tint of nervousness in her voice and quickly ease her worries.

“No, not at all! I’m just. Surprised.” You’re unsure of what to do with your hands so you start to fidget around, trying to avoid her intense gaze. “What are you doing at this party then?” You finally break the silence.

“My sister urged me to come.”

“Who’s your sister?” Your curiosity peaks as you might be one of the first people to ever hold such a long conversation with her.

“I’m older than her but she’s more popular than me, her name’s Yelena.” Your eyes widen in shock. “Yelen Belova is your sister?!” She answers with a nod, unsurprised that you’ve heard of her sister.

Yelena Belova was a stark contrast to Natasha. She’s extremely popular for the parties she hosts and her easygoing attitude. Her social media presence is also astounding. She helps fundraise for the university racking in thousands of dollars yearly. Her influence on the school helps her escape from situations that normal people would be expelled for. She most likely played a big role in helping set up this giant frat party.

“You’re like, so different from her though.” You notice her apprehension about talking about her sister and decide to drop the topic. “I think you’re way cooler than her though.”

She smiles for the first time and it makes you feel butterflies in your stomach.

“Can I…kiss you?” She asks for your permission and you blink at her unsure if you heard her right. “Nevermind, I didn’t mean to make this weird-” You’re the one to cut her off this time, taking her lips into yours. Her hands stay awkwardly at her sides and take initiative to place them onto your hips. You move your own hands down her chest, starting to take off her leather jacket.

You stick your tongue into her mouth and she pulls back, her face flushed. “Sorry, did I go too far?” You quickly apologize, moving your hands away from her jacket.

“No!” She yells a little too loudly. “Sorry, I meant. No. It’s just, I’ve never done something like this.” Her pale face is flushed and she’s already out of breath.

“Done what?” You question her further.

“I’ve never. Been with someone…intimately.” She admits quietly, shying away from your eyes.

“Oh. We can stop if you want.”

“No, I want to keep going.” Natasha’s hold on you tightens. You smile at her, feeling special that she trusts you enough to be her first.

“Well, tell me if you want me to stop, okay?” You pull away from her grip to start undressing yourself. You give her a show as you slowly unzip your bodycon dress. She stares at your body as your braless chest gets freed. She practically drools over your breasts.

You chuckle and get closer to her. “You see something you like?” She nods slowly, her eyes widening slightly.

“You can touch.” You grab her fists and relax them, lifting them up to your chest allowing her to cup them. When she starts to experiment by rubbing her thumbs over your hardened nipples, you exaggerate a moan causing her face to redden again. Her breaths come out rugged and heavy.

You lean in to capture her lips again, slowly moving your hands down to her bulge and lightly rubbing the hardon that protrudes out from her jeans. She whimpers in your mouth.

You pull back and start to kiss down her neck. She moves her head slightly to the right to give you more room to mark. “W-what if they kick us out for taking too long.” She barely gets her words out.

“Oh baby, youre Natasha fucking Romanoff. They'd give you all the time in the world.” You smirk into her neck and move your hands to start undressing her. She helps you out by removing her jacket and pulling off her shirt from over her head revealing her abs and toned muscles.

“Wow.” You whisper out. Now you’re the one to admire her body and she cowers under your gaze. You run your hands down her body to her covered cock.

You kneel down onto your knees slowly unzipping her jeans. Once they slide off, you palm her noticeable bulge forming a tent in her boxers. She jerks her hips up at your touch and she whines out, “Please Y/N.”

You decide to not tease her any longer and pull her boxers down. Her cock stands straight and pulses at the blood rushing through it. You slide your hand down the member and she groans at finally being touched. Your tongue swipes around her tip collecting all of her precum onto your mouth.

You moan at her taste before swooping in and taking her full length into your mouth.

“F-fuck.” Natasha’s hands go back to her awkwardly placing them by her side and you pull out to her disapproval.

“Guide me.” You place her hands behind your head. “What if I hurt you?” You chuckle at her.

“I may gag a bit but that’s only because you’re so big. I don’t want you to stop until my face goes blue and I’m crying. Use me like a fleshlight.” You smirk up at her and begin kitten licking her tip. She bites her lip slowly pushing your head onto her cock again. You can tell she’s nervous but with your words, she slowly moves your head back and forth more.

Her confidence builds along with her pleasure. The small room is filled with her grunts and the noises of your ministrations on her.

You stare up at her with doe eyes, drool running down your mouth. Natasha’s face is flushed and her eyes are hooded. She stares at you lustfully.

You start to play with her balls and maneuver your tongue so she feels even better. She contorts her face, “I’m gonna-”

She’s unable to finish her sentence as liquid floods into your mouth. You swallow every last drop until she lets go of your head with a pop.

“Fuck.” She says catching her breath as you clean off your mouth with your hand. After she calms down from her orgasm, the two of you get dressed.

“Where are you going?” She asks you while putting her jacket back on. “Home, you should come with. We have all of winter break to be together.” You wink at her before opening the door and walk through the people still sitting there, having abandoned the game and now just talking about plans for their break.

They quiet down, noticing the two of you walk through the crowd and out the door. Natasha follows behind like a lost puppy. “You think they noticed?” She whispers to you.

“Oh, they for sure did.” You respond as you feel the phone in your hands start vibrating with notifications from your group chat.

#﹔﹒ korro writes﹒ ෆ #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff

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magnusbae · 11 months ago

Note

look, I'm a basic bitch, I see “only one bed” on a prompt list, I send asks begging for dreamling fics

xo @hardly-an-escape

Listen, I am so not cheating, despite my not being active in the dreamling for a while, I am going by oRDER. Thank you so much for the message dear, I hope you're well 🥰💖

Dreamling || 402w || lil silly au lol :)

▾▾▾

''There's only one bed.'' Hob shakes his head in disbelief, the apologetic staff who had informed that there’s been a mistake with their room had tactfully omitted this part from her apologies.

Dream doesn’t seem to be as perturbed by the hotel’s mix-up, nor does he look like he’s about to throw a fit the way Hob half expected him to. He shrugs, a minor movement of his shoulders, and walks in to sit down on said bed. He doesn’t look worried, instead he flips his phone open and scrolls through what Hob assumes to be his work emails.

In fact, he seems a little too fine to Hob’s taste.

“You do realize that it means we’ll have to share? I’m not sleeping on the floor nor the bathtub, if that’s the crazy idea you’ve got up that pretty head of yours.” If it was anyone else, Hob wouldn’t have to clarify. Given the fact that this is Dream, or professionally known— Morpheus, he feels the need to make absolutely sure that he understands the situation.

That he, the CEO of his family’s business, is about to share a bed with the IT guy he decided to drag along for this trip. (Why?)(He did not deem anyone worthy of an explanation.) Hob feels that perhaps the great pay was worth skipping over, if only for the icy look he gets from Dream when he lowers his phone, looking perfectly unimpressed.

“That is glaringly obvious, Robert.” He says his full name with a roll of his tongue, a thing that doesn’t fail to make Hob’s skin itch. He used to think it was anger, but lately… he’s not that sure about it.

“Great, sure. Just making sure” he wipes his hands over his pants in a quick motion, looking around the room to not think about how he’ll be sharing bed with the guy he lowkey, highey, all keys wanted to fuck for the longer half of the past year. Bloody hell and heaven. God help him.

“Clearly” Dream rolls his eyes, in that implied manner of his, looking up briefly before he is glued back to his phone. What a pretty, annoying, horrible bitch. Hob is absolutely fucked.

“I’m hitting the shower first.” he doesn’t wait for the answer, escaping Dream’s company out of sheer self preservation. This is going to be a long trip indeed. God help him indeed…

#Yours truly been awake for more hours than is proper xD #I did read through this once but it's possible the tiredness would bleed through by this point grfaethbateh #Dreamling #Dreamling fic #The sandman #dream of the endless #hob gadling #dream #hob #buns.w #buns.all #msg #hardly-an-escape

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mypimpademia · 1 year ago

Note

So idk if you write for Kiri, but you know how kirishima is kinda like a total boys boy? Like a gym bro, kinda hyper masc? Well do you think you can write him with a hyper fem/hello kitty kinda girl? Like he always thought that he would be with kinda a gym girl, or someone more his speed with that kind of stuff, but instead he falls in love with a girl who always is wearing pink and something hello kitty themed? And how once he tells the bakugo buddy bunch about his crush on her they totally bully him for it (lovingly ofc)

Or maybe denki? I love both the silly boys bc iykwim they jus so adorable!

Like denki has a type, and [insert reader name] did not meet the standards of that, but little sparky boy did not think he would fall in love with her so quicky, especially because she's jus so feminine, and not necessarily that it's bad, he is just so confused on why they feel the need to dress like that. He's not opposed to trying new things or matching outfits tho.....

GAGAHSJRD SORRY I WROTE ALOT THERE ANTWYAS LOVE YOUR STUFF YOUR AMAZINGGGGGGGGGGG XX THANK YOU YOU DONT HAVE TO UF YOU DONT WANNA SHDJFJF

— Contrast

Kirishima x Hyperfem! Fem!Reader

TW: Swearing

Note: YOURE PERFECTLY FINE, I LOVE IT WHEN PEOPLE GO INTO DETAIL WITH REQUESTS🫶🏾 TYSM FOR SUPPORTING I HOPE YOU ENJOY LOVELY💖💖

— KIRISHIMA

⇶ Eijiro himself was confused when he developed feelings for you

⇶ He would never tell you this now, or probably ever, but you were nothing like the type of girl he imagined himself with

⇶ He always thought he’d date a girl that was similar to him interest wise, athletic, very fitness focused, into stuff like protein shakes

⇶ Not to say that it was bad that you weren’t like that, but it just wasn’t expected

⇶ Even the Bakusquad was perplexed when he revealed that he had a crush on you

“No fucking way.”

Eijiro waved off Denki’s response, slumping into the sofa with a sigh.

“Hey, don’t be an asshole! What’s wrong with Y/n? She’s cool and pretty!” Mina defended, shoving Denki by his shoulder.

He groaned dramatically, jokingly rubbing his arm in the spot she made contact with.

“I don’t mean it like that,” he explained. “She’s just the complete opposite of what Eiji always said he was lookin’ for in a girl.”

“No fuckin’ kidding, have you seen the girls room? It’s like she set off a pink paint bomb in there,” Bakugo chimed in.

“I like it!” Mina exclaimed.

“Yeah, I wonder why,” Bakugo muttered, earning a pillow to the face from Mina in response.

“I dunno, I kinda like it. It’s cute, and it’s actually a really nice contrast to me and my usual type,” Eijiro said.

“Yeah, you guys would look good together,” Denki, urged. “Honestly, I was gonna go for her, but I’ll let you have her!”

Eijiro rolled his eyes at the cocky remark from his friend.

“Let him? It’s that Denki for ‘I couldn’t pull her if I tried?’ Or?” Mina teased.

“Hey, what happened to ‘don’t be an asshole,’?”

⇶ When you do eventually get together, Eijiro comes to love your hyperfeminine all pink aesthetic

⇶ At first, the constant stares of all your stuffed animals would scare him when he slept over, and he had more nightmares of them attacking him than he’d like to admit

⇶ But now, your room is his favorite place to sleep, especially after a good workout and shower

⇶ Loves seeing you all dolled up whenever you go out anywhere

⇶ Sending him daily fit pics is a REQUIREMENT.

⇶ Calls you his doll all the time because that’s what you remind him of when you’re all dressed up in some frilly outfit and covered in pink from head to toe

⇶ Doesn’t understand the obsession with Sanrio and Hello Kitty and why you incorporate it into all your outfits, but he loves guessing the names of whatever character(s) you have on your clothes that day and gets so happy when he guesses right

⇶ And even though he doesn’t understand, he still buys you anything Sanrio that he sees in the store because he knows you’ll like it

⇶ If you make him watch Hello Kitty and Friends with you though, Eijiro will quickly learn to love it and know all the characters names by heart

⇶ Gets you both sleep masks of your favorite characters as well as matching pajamas

⇶ Eijiro might just love your cutesy aesthetic more than you, even though it’s not exactly what he gravitates towards for himself

⇶ Although you weren’t necessarily the type of person he expected to fall for, he could never imagine himself with anyone else <3

—

Taglist: @megurulvr @ivanari @planetlunaa @romiantic @szaplsdropthealbum @dreampurpledreams @goldenglow149 @gender-queery @roaringlion @cosmiles @tatiquichi @kxtsxkii @lillizxzz @starsoir @nikorubakugou @ruubric

Send in an ask or DM me to be added to all taglists, or fill out my form to be added to select ones.

—

Thank you for reading, comments and reblogs are appreciated! Follow for more!

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year ago

Text

If You Can't Dance 1

Warnings: dubcon, noncon, other possible triggers. Proceed with caution.

Note: this is what you get when you encourage me. Please leave any and all feedback! 🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

Part of The Club AU

“It's so nice to finally meet you in person!” Melinda beams as she holds out a bright drink. The layers of blue and purple make you wonder about its contents.

“Yeah, so awesome,” Faye hollers as she sips from a yellow cocktail. “Must be lonely working from home.”

“Oh, uh, not really,” you sway, trying to avoid the bodies around you. Your throat scrapes as you have to yell over the pumping bass. “It's…quiet.”

“Quiet!? Carly giggles, “then It's good you got out! This merger is going to be lit.”

“Lit?” Melinda, the eldest of the trio rolls her eyes, “you young ones.”

You wade with them through the crowd, the heat of the clubgoers catching beneath the wool of your sweater. You feel out of place in your dowdy pullover and long peasant skirt, especially as sequins and bright prints refract in the rainbow of lights. Even your coworkers belong, blouse sleeves rolled up and blazers handed over to the coatroom.

“Hopefully they're still down for work drinks!” Faye trills.

“Bigger and better. Work mandated cocktails should just be a thing,” Carly guffaws.

“Mmm, and what about work mandated flings?” Faye ogles past you.

You crane to follow her eyeline. You see several men, striding through the crowd with ease. Tall and not bad looking by common standards. You see nothing especially alluring but you understand what people look for; good posture, nice eyes, broad shoulders.

“Erm,” you look back and taste your drink, giving a face. “Is there alcohol in this?” You call over.

“Duh!” Carly laughs again, “oh my god, you're so adorable! Oh, you know what, you should start coming into office. We do lattes on Friday.”

“I er… don't mind….”

You don't finish your protest as the tempo shifts and Faye squeals, “oh this is my song, girls!”

They throw an arm up each, balancing their drinks in their other hands. You sniff the glass and try another gulp. You cough and hide it behind your hand. They barely notice you. No one really does, you're tiny and dressed like wallpaper.

As they shimmy and swing to the music, you don't know what to do. You wiggle awkwardly, but you don't dance and have no rhythm. You find yourself downing the drink out of anxiety.

You feel an odd sensation in your eyelids and a ripple in your brain as you get to the bottom of the drink. You copy Carly and leave your empty glass on a table. Another song and the heat beads on the nape of your neck.

The flashing lights and wall of sound makes you dizzy. You shouldn't have finished the drink. You don't feel right. You look at the others and how they giggle and joke. You don't fit in. Just like always. You know your coding and you know how to be alone.

You sidle close to Melinda, she seems like a mother, well, she kept mentioning her kids. “Is there a bathroom here?”

She laughs, amused by your obvious question, “over there.”

She points through the crowd. You see the top of a sign but not enough to read it. You smile and wave to the other girls, fleeing as they barely notice.

You get caught between a couple as you try to squeeze by. You squeal and get knocked around by a large guy on the other side of them. You're caught in a tidal wave of people as you peer desperately at the neon blue sign.

You can't get there but you need to get out of here. Your skin is on fire, your vision is streaming, and you can't breathe. The air is hot and humid and putrid.

You claw before you, forcing past the crush around you, stumbling towards the entryway. You trip out the door and heave in, gulping down cold air, trying to get your head straight. Your chest hurts and you're shaking. You need help!

You look around for anything. Anyone. The bouncers are distracted with those seeking entry and those in line don't seem to see you. You lean on the corner of the building and put your hand on your sweater.

You clutch the wool and shake your head. It's been a while since you felt this. The world spirals around you as you struggle to steady yourself. You keep your other hand on the wall and murmur. You're going to pass out.

You shouldn't have come here. You knew this would happen. But they didn't give you a choice. The email said mandatory. You need this job. What are you going to do? Everything is falling to pieces.

“Pardon me, are you alright?” A lilting voice startles you. You part from the wall, nearly falling against it as you teeter on your feet, “oh, woah, watch yourself.”

The man catches your arm, keeping you from tipping over. His touch surges in you but you know you can't stand on your own. You gulp and gurgle, fanning yourself.

“S-s-sorry,” you pants, “I just… I can't breathe.”

He leans in as you can barely speak. His blue eyes are intent on you as he keeps you upright, firm but gentle. He nods as he listens to your staggered words.

“I… too hot… inside…”

“Oh, dear, yes, I agree,” he smiles kindly, “here, why don't you…. lean here, yes,” he eases you against the brickfront, “catch your breath,” his accent is soothing, “and…” he looks around, gesturing to the bouncer, “Pardon, yes, would you fetch some water for the lady?”

The man grumbles but glances inside the club. He must know the stranger before you, “you have some water and it'll be just fine. Hmm? Will you count with me?”

You give him a bewildered look but he's already counting, “one, two, three…”

#jonathan pine #dark jonathan pine #dark!jonathan pine #jonathan pine x reader #drabble #au #series #if you can't dance #the club #the night manager

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vilentia · 1 year ago

Text

Healing Melodies - Part 2

Eddie Munson x reader

part 1 | part 2

****

Dustin had always been known for his larger-than-life reactions to, well, pretty much everything. So, when he stumbled upon the truth about you and Eddie, his response was nothing short of a spectacle.

It happened on a lazy Saturday afternoon. The sun was high, casting a warm glow over Hawkins, and the air was filled with the distant sound of lawnmowers and children's laughter. You and Eddie were in his trailer, a record spinning softly in the background as you both poured over an intricate map for your next D&D campaign.

The door burst open, and in charged Dustin, wielding a walkie-talkie like a sword and a look of determination plastered across his face. He stopped short, the words dying on his lips as he took in the scene before him—Eddie's arm casually draped over your shoulder, both of you so engrossed in your shared world that you hadn't heard him enter.

"Dude! What the—?" Dustin's eyes widened, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. "Is this a new campaign strategy session, or am I interrupting the 'All My Children' hour?"

Eddie chuckled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Calm down, Dusty. We were just—"

"Just what? Planning the ultimate betrayal of dungeon master trust?" Dustin interrupted, faux outrage coloring his tone. But the sparkle in his eyes betrayed his enjoyment of the melodrama.

You laughed, shaking your head at Dustin's antics. "We're not betraying anyone, Dustin. Eddie's just been helping me understand the finer points of necromancy. Right, Eddie?"

Eddie nodded, playing along. "Yeah, just some good old necromancy. Nothing to see here."

Dustin squinted suspiciously, taking a step forward. "Necromancy, huh? That's what we're calling it these days?" His gaze flicked between the two of you, a smirk beginning to form. "Wait a second... Are you guys... Are you guys a thing now?"

The air was suddenly thick with anticipation, the question hanging between you all. Eddie's hand squeezed your shoulder, a silent signal of unity.

"Come on, spill it!" Dustin urged, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Eddie sighed dramatically, feigning resignation. "Alright, alright. Yes, Dustin. We're a thing."

Dustin's reaction was instant and explosive—a mix of shock, joy, and the kind of theatrical disbelief that only he could muster. "I knew it! I mean, I didn't know-know it, but I knew something was up!" He threw his hands in the air, circling the room. "This is huge! This is like, Return of the Jedi epic! My cousin and Eddie Munson? This is going to change the party dynamics forever!"

As Dustin continued to pace around the room, his initial shock transforming into an almost comical level of excitement, you and Eddie exchanged amused glances. Dustin, true to form, was already spinning scenarios in his head, his imagination running wild.

"This is like, the best character development ever!" Dustin exclaimed, his hands animatedly sketching out scenes in the air. "You guys are like, the unexpected alliance in a fantasy novel. The bard and the warrior princess, joining forces against the darkness!"

Eddie raised an eyebrow, a playful grin on his face. "Warrior princess, huh? I like the sound of that for [Your Name]. Fits perfectly."

You rolled your eyes but couldn't hide your smile. "Only if you're the bard who serenades me with metal ballads and slays monsters with his guitar axe."

Dustin clapped his hands together, his excitement reaching new heights. "Yes! That's exactly it! We'll have to update the Hellfire Club's campaign. This is going to be legendary!"

He began to pace again, his mind clearly racing with ideas. "Imagine the quests! The battles! The drama! This will be the best campaign ever. We’ll need a new storyline, new villains, maybe even a love triangle to spice things up."

Eddie laughed, shaking his head. "Easy there, Spielberg. Let's not get ahead of ourselves. We're just figuring this out as we go."

But Dustin was undeterred, his enthusiasm undimmed. "You guys have no idea how epic this is going to be. I'm going to need to brainstorm some ideas, maybe get some input from the others. This is going to be a total game-changer for the Hellfire Club!"

As Dustin continued to chatter excitedly, outlining elaborate plot twists and character arcs, you leaned against Eddie, feeling his arm wrap around you. There was a comfort in this moment—the joy of a new relationship, the amusement of Dustin's over-the-top reaction, and the sense of belonging in this strange, wonderful world of Hawkins.

Eddie leaned down, whispering in your ear, "You ready for all this?"

You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his, and nodded. "As long as it's with you, I'm ready for anything."

And in that small trailer, filled with the laughter of friends and the dreams of adventures yet to come, you knew that no matter what the future held, you and Eddie, together, could face it all.

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adrealucia · 2 years ago

Text

⋆⁺₊⋆☾⋆⁺₊⋆ choose ⋆⁺₊⋆☾⋆⁺₊⋆

·:*¨༺ ★ ༻¨*:·.

pairing: agedup!ao'nung x agedup!neteyam x y/n metkayina ( x lo'ak ? )

warning: sfw, love triangle (?), fighting, honestly just ao'nung and neteyam being simps for y/n

word count: 2.3 k

·:*¨༺ ★ ༻¨*:·.

„You have got to realise that you cannot give shit to her!", Neteyam laughs, and pushes his friend playfully aside. He doesn't like to see the pictures of you and Ao'nung, that sometimes creep up into his head. deep inside, he knows that he is the one for you and not the other guy. You on the other hand cannot picture yourself with either of them. The two men have been your best friends since you guys learned how to walk, also you may or may not already have laid an eye on someone else. You are so tired of the two fighting about who would be a potential better pick for you. Ao'nung puts on an evil grin: "If you say that her being the future Tsahìk of the Metkayina clan is giving shit to her, you're probably right men." It almost feels like they have this urge inside of them to fight about you for every second of the day. "Mating into the family of Toruk Makto sounds like a better pick to me.", Neteyam shrugs his shoulders and honestly that's the only thing he actually might be right about. "Bet she wouldn't want to pass the demon blood down to her future children.", Ao'nung pouts, pretending like he's deeply sorry for his friend. You wonder how they can even label themselves friends, when all they do is mock each other and fight.

The Omatikaya was almost about to throw a fit, punching the other in the face, right when you and lo'ak entered the Marui. You and lo'ak have been spending most of your time together now, since the other two man are really getting on your nerves. Once you enter Ao'nung's and Neteyam's sight they both innocently smile at you, pretending like they did not fight all along. "Did my little brother treat you well?", the older one asks and chuckles, making lo'ak roll his eyes. You sigh: "Of course he did".

"I will leave the two of you alone again, don't worry. I am just here to grab my bag", the annoyed undertone in your voice, leaves lo'ak giggling. He immediately earns an evil glare from his older brother. Taking his hands up in defense, shaking his head and takes one step back. "Where are you going?", Ao'nung asks, looking after you. "Oh, me and lo'ak wanted to look for some pretty shells on the beach. I promised my mother to help her, I guess she needs them to braid someone's hair.. I don't know.", you grab your bag and lightly smile back at your friends. You love them so much and it really hurts you to give them the cold shoulder, but things between the two of them have gotten out of hand. So you don't want to encourage them even more. "I will help you!", Neteyam also grabs a bag, throwing it over his shoulder, already good to go. You pull a face full of irritation, that is not really want you wanted. "Oh it's fine, lo'ak is already helpi-", your words were cut of by an eager Ao'nung: "I am also coming with you!"

You look around, helpless, looking at lo'ak. 'I am sorry' you mouth and he just gives you an understanding little smile. "Well, looks like you have enough hands to help you out. I will be looking for Tuk, if you want to hang out later again", your friend turns around and leaves the marui, leaving you alone with these two fools. "Great.", you sigh, turning around to face your other friends, putting on a forced smile. "Let's go.", Neteyam takes your hand, like it's nothing, intertwining your fingers with his and drags you out of the shelter, to the beach. Ao'nung, who's already mad, just follows after you.

"Okay, don't pick boring ones.. look for some shells with bright colours or the ones that have a pretty shine to them, got it?", both of them immediately nodding, already committed to the job. The one advantage is that they will put so much effort into the little things, to impress you and obviously to show off their skills. You turn your back to them and focus on searching the beach for pretty shells. When you find one you happily smile and put them into the bag that's hanging across your upper body. For a while you're not being distracted and very glad, that the man did not pick up on a fight yet.

"I have something for you.", being so focused on your task, you are slightly startled, when you suddenly feel Neteyam's hand on your shoulder. With interest you turn around, to face him. Seeing a beautiful flower in one of his hands, you can't help yourself but look at him in awe. "that's so pretty, thank you!", you giggle quietly, looking at Ao'nung who is still focused on his job. "Turn around, I will put it into your braid.", the older man gently turns you over and somewhere squeezes the pretty flower into your braid. He seems pleased with what he had done. You can feel him carefully stroking over your shoulders, before he adjusts your hair one more time. You would lie if you had said that this small gestures didn't make your heart drop for a second and the goosebumps on your skin would also give it away.

"And look what else I found!", setting your focus back on Neteyam, you can also see from the corner of your eyes that Ao'nung seems to be a little bit raging. The man are definitely going to pick up a fight sooner or later today, you already know it.

Neteyam holds up a really beautiful shell, that he found. It was shining in blue, green and yellow colours, your favourite colours actually. "woow", your open your month in excitement, slightly swinging on your feet back and forth. "I thought you could keep it to yourself!", Neteyam has always been the sweetest and you like that he's so affectionate and loving. You grin at him, taking the pretty shell into your hands and admiring it. "I like it very much, that's so sweet of you." You remember the days back to when you, Ao'nung and Neteyam used to play at the beach. Splashing water into each others faces, drawing into the sand, building little castles out of wet sand and looking for a shell the other would like. Of course this stoped once you guys got older, but him remembering touched your heart. "What's that?", the other man suddenly showed interest on your little present as well. "Isn't it pretty? Neteyam just gave it to me!", you remember, when it still used to be fun teasing the boys. One day talking more with Neteyam, making Ao'nung jealous, next day the other way around. Sometimes you told them a lie, just to see the jealousy in their eyes. It would always be something small, like saying : 'Neteyam's new hair is really pretty, don't you think so too?' or 'Ao'nung looks so manly lately, don't you agree?'. Well, it used to be fun. Now that both of the man know how to seriously hurt each other, it's no fun no more.

"You're really desperate trying to get her to like you, Neteyam.", Ao'nung tightens his jaw, making him look scary, angry, but you have to admit, also really good looking. But the words that just came out of his mouth are making you mad. Neteyam was just being nice, right? He did not had any other intentions, at least that is what you would like to believe. "I was just being kind to her. Not my problem, you did not thought of making her a pleasure.", the older man was furios, you could clearly tell. "If she would let, I would give all the pleasure in the world to her.", Ao'nung puts an evil grin, making you bite your inner cheek. His comment made your face turn red. You looked down at your feet, regretting taking them with you. "Don't be so nasty, is that all you want? To fuck her?".

Neteyam's question made you widen your eyes in disbelief. Did he really just say that? You take a step back, watching how the two get closer to each other. "You fucker", Ao'nung pushes the other back, making Neteyam stumble. He balanced himself out pretty quickly and the look on his face tells you it's about to go down bad. You don't want them fighting, but you honestly don't know how to stop them either. The older one is not holding back, instantly putting his hand to a fist, punching his friend. Your body twitches together in an instant, holding a hand up to your mouth in shook. Ao'nung doesn't punch back, instead he looks over to you: "Is that who you want? Someone who's not hesitating to punch a younger one?". Neteyam laughs, this time he's the one in disbelief. "Oh, that's what it's about. Provoking me to put yourself in a better light?". The older seems disappointed in his friend and somehow also in you. "Honestly, I am done.." He turns around, wanting to leave you and Ao'nung behind.

You react quick, not wanting him to leave for some reason. Grabbing his hand, making him stand still. "Don't go..", you whisper, looking at your friend with big eyes. Neteyam grunts, not knowing why you would want him to stay. "Choose.", he suddenly demands, not clear what he's talking about. Ao'nung licks his lips, tasting blood. He seems to be confused as well, but than it hits him and he kind of likes the idea. "what?", it's almost like there's no sound coming out of your mouth, that's how quiet you talk. "Choose, it's either him or me.", Neteyam seems serious, it's quite rare seeing him like that. You instantly shake your head. There is no way you're gonna choose one of them. Honestly your life would be missing something, if one them wouldn't be here with you. "I can't do that.", you look helpless and Neteyam has lost all of his expression. "Then I am making it easy for you.", he pulls his hand out of your grip, turning his back to you.

In a matter of seconds you had to make a decision, otherwise you would loose him or maybe even both of them. Your running after Neteyam, standing still right in front of him. He's trying to ignore you, trying to make his way past you. "..don't", you demand quietly and he actually stops for a moment. Ao'nung is quick to follow you, wanting to know what you would do next. Both of them standing next to each other, both looking into your eyes. They're waiting for you to do something.

"kiss me.", you whisper.

The two in front of you looking at you confused, who were you talking to? "I want you to kiss me, both of you.", you are nervous, maybe even shaking, not knowing how they would react. Your heart is beating so fast, you might faint if no one is going to react to your demand. Ao'nung reaches for your cheek, gently pulling your face towards him. His lips are meeting yours. Ever so slowly he is moving them against yours. You place your hand above his, grabbing Neteyam's hand with your other one. Squeezing it, trying to show him that he is not left out. You move your lips as well, gently and slow. Kissing your friend felt good, that's something you actually did not expect. A hand is finding its place on your shoulder, pulling you and Ao'nung apart. Immediately you're pulled into the next kiss, this time your lips are hitting a different pair of lips. Neteyam kisses you differently, more lustful, but not exactly rough. His lips are softer, but smaller. Someone is stroking through your hair and suddenly there are little butterflies flying around in your stomach, making your knees weak.

You pull away, taking the to two man by their hands, making them sit down on the sand with you. You place one hand onto Neteyam's thigh and the other one onto Ao'nung's. Your thumb is gently caressing their skin. Your looking back up, locking eyes with the Metkayina boy. This time you're the one kissing him. You're the one in charge, kissing him with more force this time. Kissing him fast and hungrier. Feeling little pecks on your shoulder, you pull away for a moment to look at Neteyam, who's giving you the sweetest smile. Immediately you're being drawn into another kiss, this time you're the one gently stroking Ao'nung's cheek. He smiles into the kiss and for a moment you're happy.

Pressing away again, you look at them and sigh. "I cannot choose.", you mutter, looking so sad. Both of the man feeling hurt, seeing you this way. Neteyam lifts his hand, placing it in yours and Ao'nung is doing the same. "it's okay y/n.", Ao'nung is the one to comfort you with his words, making you feel slightly better. But deep inside of you, you know someone's going to get hurt. You might like them more than you thought, but still there is someone else that also has your heart. You are feeling bad, not being able to decide on someone. But how could you? Neteyam gives you a sweet little peck onto your forehead, making you bite your lip. "You don't have to choose.", he smiles, looking at you in awe.

You know that you might not have to choose someone today, but one day you definitely have to.

·:*¨༺ ★ ༻¨*:·.

authors note: another repost!

I really hope tumblr will make this show up in the tags :(

#atwow #atwow smut #avatar 2 #neteyam #neteyam x y/n #jake sully #loak x reader #atwow kiri #neytiri #awow x reader #ao’nung #ao’nung x neteyam x reader #ao‘nung x y/n #aonung #ao’nung x reader #sfw #neteyam sfw #ao’nung sfw #avatar sfw

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mae-gi-writes · 1 year ago

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dial 199 | jeon wonwoo

In which you think you’re past saving, but the person on the other end of the line manages to pull you out of your dark waters.

Genre: angst, suicidal thoughts, reader is showing signs of depression.

If you believe you have symptoms and need to consult someone, please take that courage and do so. I swear life gets better.

———

“Hello, how may I help you?”

The gruff male voice at the other end of the line sounded raspy, as though the guy had just woken up from sleep. Or maybe you had interrupted him in mid-doze.

Your fingers tightened over the receiver. From your spot on the bench, nobody would see you amidst the darkness of the campus. It was practically midnight, after all.

“Is this WGU?” You managed to whisper in half-shame ad half embarrassment.

You were glad this wasn’t an in-person service because by god you would’ve never stepped foot in their office. But as desperate ass you were, you had no choice.

“Yes, this is WGU, also known as the “We Got You” committee. Anything I can help with?” The voice on the other end softened slightly, “are you in a safe space where you can talk without being interrupted?”

“I—“ you debated on lying, and decided against it, “actually I’m in the middle of the courtyard. I’m still on campus.”

“In the dark?”

“Yes. Not wise I know. But I couldn’t risk calling from my house, my housemates are there,” your throat ran dry. You swallowed thickly, “and honestly I just didn’t feel comfortable knowing that they might hear.”

“That’s understandable. How can I help?”

He said it so casually, as though he was a mere employee at a grocery store helping you pick out a shade of lipstick. Your grip on your phone was so tight your knuckles turned white.

You took a deep breath. Exhaled softly through your mouth. Then, spoke once more.

“I—This is confidential right? And nothing that I speak about will go beyond this conversation?”

“You do not have to give me your name nor do you have to give me any details. Everything is, and will stay, anonymous and confidential,” he then added, “unless you want to tell me. But that’s up to you.”

“Okay,” you bit your lip, “okay. So uhm—what shall I call you? Sir?”

“Call me Woo,” he said, “that’s what my friends call me.”

“Ah okay, uh, Mr. Woo—“

“Just Woo will do.”

“Uhm yes so, Woo—“ you stumbled over your words, “I—I’m really sorry to be calling at such a late hour, first of all.”

“That’s fine. I’m on the night shift anyway so you’re right on time.” You heard him shifting, “tell me, what’s been on your mind? Anything I can help with?”

“Well, the thing is—“ you felt the hard lump in your throat, the one that you couldn’t swallow, “I—I have a problem. I’ve been feeling very…how to say this? Negative, lately.”

“Negative? Can you try to explain what that means?”

“Like, very overwhelmed and just tired. I can’t seem to focus in class and my mind’s all over the place. My brain can’t stop thinking and I’m so homesick that I barely go out and—“

The tears came out by then, flooding over and taking you by surprise as you tried to silence your sobs. Woo waited at the other end of the line as you silently cried into the receiver, shoulders shaking and lips trembling every time your chest shuddered with emotion. It ripped through you like a cord that had snapped and suddenly you found yourself crying for so many reasons; the stress that came with midterms, the fact that all your other friends seemed to have settled and not you, the fact that maybe you were never going to fit in. The fact that you missed home more than you could imagine.

There were so many things, so many reasons to be angry at the world. And as you cried and cried and cried, you wondered briefly whether Woo had known he was going to sign up for this when he decided to join the WGU community. Probably not.

The poor boy was probably regretting all of his decisions right then, right now.

“Miss? Are you okay?” His familiar baritone seeped back through the receiver, which you kept a desperate clutch on like it was your lifeline, “I’m still here,” you gasped out.

“Alright we’re going to talk about all the things you just mentioned, okay? But first I want you to do something for me,” he instructed in a manner so calm you found yourself listening, “you’re going to take a super deep breath. And then breathe in. And then you’re going to hold it for as long as you can. Ready?”

He breathed in and you did the same, listening to the sound of air getting sucked into his chest before you held on tight. The air burned through your lungs and somehow, everything went quiet.

“Breathe out,” he murmured, and you followed.

You did that two more times before you managed to find your breath. It stuttered, it spun and sobs kept bubbling up your throat. But Woo drew your focus back in, not letting you get distracted just for one second.

When you finally managed to come down from whatever chaotic minefield in your brain, Woo murmured out, “feel better?”

“A little bit,” you admitted somewhat shyly.

You didn’t know this man. Yet he felt so comfortable to talk to, so reassuring.

“You want to try and re-explain what you’re really struggling with?” He asked tentatively, in a manner that felt so ope and non-judge mental.

“I think,” you bit at your lip, squeezed your eyes shut and let the words fall from your mouth in a whisper, “I think I might be depressed.”

There was a pause. Before he said, “okay, can you elaborate a bit more? What makes you think that?”

“Well, I—I’m always thinking of negative things and even when I try to cheer myself up I can’t. I want to go out and hang out with friends, but I can’t because I feel like—like nobody wants me there anyway, or that it doesn’t matter if I’m there or not. I don’t make a difference,” your shoulders lift in a shrug, capturing a sob mid-way, “I feel like I don’t belong anywhere and I’m constantly questioning why the heck am I here, am I still alive when maybe, maybe I shouldn’t.”

“Thank you,” Woo said, “that must’ve been hard.”

You laughed, though it was more to mask the fact that what he said was true. It had been the hardest thing you’d ever done.

“Sometimes, when you’re in that negative headspace, you tend to overthink and over feel quite a lot. It’s a normal reaction when you’re stuck in your head,” he started out, “and, by the way, I’m not just saying this to make you feel better. It’s—I know how it feels like. I’ve been there, too. And the thing is, it’s so hard to get out of your own head sometimes. It feels like drowning.”

Yes. It did feel like drowning. You nodded, before realizing he couldn’t see you, “yeah, it does feel a bit like drowning.”

“And it feels lonely, because you’re the only one who knows what it really feels like. You’re the only one trying to catch your breath. Everyone just seems to be going on with their lives and you’re there, wishing for someone to see you.”

“Yeah, sounds about right. I just—“ you sigh, “there’s no point in living if people don’t even know I exist.”

“You want someone to care, after all. Even if you want to be alone.”

“It’s complicated. I want someone to see me, but then again I don’t want to be a burden.”

“We were made to be burdens. People have to rely on other people to live,” Woo said softly, “and it’s okay to be a burden once in a while because that’s what makes us human. We’re not superheroes.”

Relying on other people meant to tell people what was hidden in the grooves of your heart and honestly, you weren’t sure whether you wanted to share that with them. Those deep, dark secrets that made your insides churn just at the thought. Who would entertain such thought? They’d merely brand you as crazy and drop you off at the psychiatrists as quickly as you’d come.

You didn’t want that. If you were to find professional help, you’d do it on your own.

But you weren’t ready. Not yet.

Maybe not ever.

“Look, I don’t think it’s fair to ask you to be better as soon as you reach out. That’s not how it works,” Woo said, “but imagine that you have with you a super big guard dog. It’s all black and people don’t really like it. Actually, they’re scared of it.”

You tried following his suggestion. Your guard dog would be a husky, despite the fact that Woo said he’d be all black. Maybe an all-black husky?

“Okay,” you whispered into the receiver, holding it closer to you on instinct.

“Great. Now this dog. People fear it and normally you don’t mind it’s presence. Actually, you never really wanted a dog but he suddenly showed up one day. As a pup. So who were you to resist him right?”

You weren’t entirely sure where he was going with this, but you hummed in agreement anyway.

“That dog takes up a lot of your free time, and at some point he might become so big that it overwhelms you,” Woo said, “isn’t it a bit like what you’re feeling right now?”

You blinked. Somehow, that kind of made sense. You replayed his words in your head and felt your brain clear a little, like mist suddenly evaporating in the dead of night.

Your fingers loosened on the phone. Somehow, air seemed to go through your lungs a little easier. Your heart felt a little lighter.

A black guard dog filled with negative emotions. That was what you ultimately carried around. Woo had found the perfect metaphor to make you realize that this wasn’t entirely you. It was something that perhaps was uncontrollable and yet, could be controlled to some extent.

It didn’t have to rule your life. It didn’t have to rule your emotions. It didn’t have to make you sad all the time and angry at the world for not understanding the tremors inside you.

The words felt like butter as they left your mouth. It felt like a breath of fresh air the next time you spoke, “thank you.”

“Did that potentially bring down your sadness by at least one percent?”

“It really did,” the faintest of smiles played along your lips, “thank you.”

“No need. That’s what we do after all. I’m glad you’re feeling a little better.”

“Well I still feel like I should thank you anyway, because—“ you paused, “you’re the only one who actually listened.”

He chuckled but didn’t say anything more. You sat there for a few long, drawn out moments, wondering how just five minutes ago you were practically a ball of unrestrained feelings that seemed on the verge of breaking. And now there was a soothing calm that made your mind pause, that made everything still and steady until it was easy enough to breath again.

It was almost as though you’d managed to break out of the water, breathing in fresh air like your life depended on it.

“Thank you,” you said again, “thank you so much.”

“Just remember me next time, if ever you call.” Woo teased, “if someone else answers the phone you can say that you’re used to talking to Woo. They’ll transfer you straight over.”

“Are you on shift the whole night?”

“Until five in the morning.”

“You don’t have classes the next day?”

“Thank god no. I don’t think I would’ve survived. I have a free day tomorrow until four in the afternoon, so it’s not that bad.”

“That sounds nice. I have an eight in the morning. English Lit.”

“Wha—the wonder of people choosing morning classes will always be a mystery to me.”

“The logic is that you can get everything out of the way quicker so you don’t have to linger around on campus for nothing.”

He hummed, “I do agree, that sounds smart.”

“I should probably go to bed though, it’s late,” you check your watch as you spoke, eyes rounding at the clock showing one in the morning, “oh shit. I’m really going to struggle tomorrow.”

“Do you really have to wake up early?”

“Well yeah, otherwise I’ll miss my bus and I’ll have to catch up.”

“Maybe it’s good that you get to sleep in, don’t you think?” He prompted, “don’t you deserve that much, after the night you just had?”

A knot of anxiety settled in your stomach, “but—then I—“

“No buts,” he cut you off, “you deserve that much, Y/N. Trust me. You deserve to take a break and enjoy just being.”

there was a moment of silence as you pondered over his suggestion and your mind was already assessing the pros and cons, only for you to shut them all up and say, “you’re right. I think I deserve that much.”

“Good. Now will you do me a favor? Go home and get some sleep?”

“I will.”

“Alright. You’ll be okay, right?”

“I will,” you softened, “Thanks a lot, Woo.”

“Goodnight, Y/N. Sweet dreams.”

“Goodnight Woo.”

It wasn’t until you were halfway to your house that you realized you’d never told him your name.

———

Wonwoo watched you go from his perch on the streetlight lamp. It wasn’t the steadiest of landing points but this was the best way to watch your figure walk without catching attention. He just wanted to make sure you were safe and sound, especially at this hour where everything could happen.

His wings brushed against his back as he kept gazing at your retreating figure in the distance, the softest of smiles gracing his face, “you’ll be alright, Y/N.”

———

A/N: Hoped you liked this little one shot, inspired from true events. I’ve been feeling severely under the weather to the point that it’s taken two days of reality away from me and I wish it never happens again. This is a gentle reminder to all of you to take care of yourselves, and that someone out there is always going to care, and to want to listen.

Love you all, friends <;3

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moonynaturesethetic · 15 days ago

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Quiet...But Loyal (Teen Wolf X Mute!Reader) - Chapter 1

September 25th, 2013 Japan, The Yukimura Reserve

Y/n was now 16, but still as mute as ever, while her sister Kira was 17. The Yukimura family was in their home in Japan, when Ken suddenly yelled for the girls to come downstairs.

"Y/n! Kira! Come downstairs, we need to talk!"

Both of the said girls walked out of their rooms at the same time, their looks saying 'Oh God, what did we do?' and they both walked downstairs together. Their mother and father had been sitting on a couch in the living room, both waiting for the two girls.

"Come, sit." Noshiko said, gesturing to the empty couch in front of her and Ken. Kira and Y/n sat next to each other, glancing at each other before looking at their parents.

"What is it?" Kira asked curiously, while Y/n tilted her head curiously.

"We are moving soon, more likely in the next month." Noshiko said, being straight forward and bland.

'WHAT?!" Kira said, extremely shocked by this information, while Y/n just looked happy in general to be moving, she didn't really care much since she didn't have a lot of friends. Kira was the one who had at least some friends, Y/n would normally just skip school. Yet she somehow managed to have straight A's, and the only classes she didn't skip were English and Art. Her parents knew about it, but they didn't care much since she was still getting good grades, but they told her that by next year she needed to do better.

"Yes, your father got a new job opportunity and it was in Beacon Hills, California at their local high school. Since we are moving, we decided we would transfer you guys over there as well." Noshiko said.

"But what about all my old friends? And why do we have to leave Japan?" Kira asked, whining slightly.

"Come on now Kira, it won't be that bad, and plus you get to make some new friends, and you have a phone for a reason sweetheart." Ken said, smiling.

Y/n looked at her family, specifically Kira, and signed 'Besides, it's not like we had many friends, and I know you do but I don't. It would also be good to try exploring new places and meeting new people, this could be good for us, come on Kir.' Y/n signed, smiling.

"Yeah, what your sister said, and this time maybe you could try making some new friends too Y/n." Ken said. That made Y/n instantly start shaking her head no, smile dropping immediately.

"Yes sweetheart, and you better try making it to class. This is a new school sweetheart, and we cannot afford to let you skip as much as you did. I understand that you get picked on, but maybe this new school will be different, and you can actually make some friends. Give it a try, but if it still doesn't work then stay in with your father during break and lunch, so that way you don't have to face anyone." Noshiko said. This made Y/n think for a second. It was true, Y/n did get picked on quite frequently since she was mute, and her family knew it too.

They tried everything they could, talking to the office, switching schools, but nowhere seemed like a good fit for her. Kira, having a feeling that Y/n needed some comfort, reached her hand out towards Y/n, and smiled at her. This made Y/n feel just a slight bit better, but she was still anxious, she didn't know what Beacon Hills was like, and she hasn't stepped foot in America since she was adopted by the Yukimura's.

"Maybe mom and dad have a point, let's give it a try, and if things still don't work out, then we can try something else, but I will try to protect as much as I can Y/n/n." Kira said, putting her hand on Y/n's shoulder.

"Better yet, I'll be there too. Nothing will happen this time, and I will make sure of it." Ken said.

Y/n hesitated a bit more, and after some thinking, she finally nodded yes, deciding that maybe this was different. At least she hoped it was.

But oh boy did she hope, maybe a little too hard.

October 27th, 2013 Beacon Hills High School

Y/n and Kira were now at the high school, and they had been in Beacon Hills for about three weeks, but they haven't quite started school yet since the semester hadn't started, but now it had, and they had to go to their brand new school now. Kira was extremely nervous, since she knew she was most likely going to have to make some new friends. While Y/n, knew that she was most likely going to stick in her father's classroom during lunch, and keep to herself, no matter how much of a bubbly and bright person she was to those she knew, she understood that being at a new school was going to be hard, so she would wait to at least try and put herself out there.

The two girls were at the school now, and they were becoming Juniors, and going into the first semester. Normally Y/n would have been in Sophomore year, but she got bumped up a grade so she was with her sister. Yes, it meant more school work, but that didn't bother her, as she was used to doing a lot of work.

When the bell rang, the two girls were already in their fathers classroom, and then they took their seats in the back, Kira sitting in front of Y/n. Teens started filling up in the room, some chatting with their friends from the previous year, and some just sitting down.

"Hello class, my name is Mr. Yukimura and I will be your new History teacher this year. Some of you might know my two daughters, Kira and Y/n, or you might not since they never brought a friend home yet, or even socially interacted with anyone." Ken said.

Those words made Kira bang her head on the table, into her arms, while her sister who was behind looked up from her book, her face holding an awkward expression. Kira slowly lifted her head up with an awkward smile, while Y/n looked around at everyone with a shy look. She really wanted to dig herself a grave and put herself in it right now.

"Yep, that's them. Anyways, moving on with today's lesson...." As Mr. Yukimura kept talking, the class took their attention away from the two girls, except for this one boy, who had dark brown hair and brown eyes. He kept staring at Kira, sometimes glancing at Y/n, but mostly keeping his gaze on Kira, and Kira stared back awkwardly. Y/n looked between the two with curious eyes. Her gaze landed on the boy before returning back to her sister. After a moment it clicked, and Y/n immediately looked back down at her notebook. That boy was staring at her sister with doe eyes! Y/n took a note in her notebook, "Note to self, pretty brunette boy was staring at Kira with heart eyes."

The boy finally turned away after his friend in front of him tapped his desk with a pencil to get his attention. Kira returned to listening to her father teach, while Y/n sat there thinking, but she was also taking notes too. She was thinking about what this new school was like, and about that boy that was staring at her sister, she would have to get his name sometime. She has a feeling she was gonna see him again soon.

She had a gut feeling however. Why did she feel like something bad was going to happen soon?

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chainmailchalamet · 2 years ago

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DRAG ME UNDER, BURY ME DEEP

tags: black gender-neutral reader + timothee chalamet, dom/sub dynamics, degradation, discussions of impact play, spitting, knife play, safe + sane + consensual, predator/prey dynamics, set in a professional BDSM space

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He doesn’t look like much, and you feel kind of bad for thinking it but — he just surprises you, is all. Maybe it's just your bias, that you assume there must be a look to the kind of person who wants to do to you what you want done. Someone a little rough, big and scruff and a little nasty — face-tats and a thick neck and big hands. A daddy type, a bear, a deviant at first glance.

This guy is…not that. Taller than you, sure, and so good-looking it makes you blush a little, but he’s just so…soft. Pretty. Bashful little tilt to his pretty head, pretty hair falling into his face in soft little curls. Shyish smile, cupids-bowed pulled back to tease a little dimple in the corner. Nice hands, well-groomed and long and lean — powder blue polish on the nails, no scars or tattoos to rough it all up. He’s got a black sweater on, fit so nice to his frame — nice broadish shoulders, elegant neck, just the slightest hint of a bulge in his bicep. He looks strong the way a swimmer would be, or a dancer.

He doesn’t look like the type to pluck you up by the neck, crowd those nice well-groomed fingers into their mouth and tell you to speak up if you want something, to laugh at you while you try to speak around the intrusion, to smear your own spit back into your skin and sneer “what a fucking mess, huh? why don’t you say sorry, like you mean it…”

“You, uh…” you pause, choose your next words carefully. “You’re different than I thought you would be…”

If he’s at all offended by this statement, he doesn’t show it, just breathes this quiet amused sound to himself — his cheeks even pink up a little, as he swipes his hair back from his face.

“Mm, yeah, I guess that makes sense, I’m not exactly…” he looks up and away like he’s searching for the right word, mouth curling into this wry little smile that is so boy-scout-prince-charming-boyfriend-coded that you kind of want to shake him a little, or kiss him a little. “I get it! If you wanna follow me back to the front desk I can —“

Fuck, that’s not — “No, no, I’m just…I just don’t want you to get into something you didn’t sign up for, you know?”

He pauses with your paperwork in his hands, eyebrows furrowed a little, but he’s still got this smile on his face, this ever-amused, almost permissive look to him. “Hm,” he hums, holding your eyes for a moment that stretches like honey, just long enough that you start to shift a little on your feet — and then he flips through the papers like he’s looking through them for the first time, makes a show of scanning through every line, muttering to himself like he’s reading them to himself, like he’s just so thorough.

And then you get it — that slow curl low in your gut as you realize that this is all an act — that this faunish, sheepish looking bambi motherfucker is fucking with you. That you’ve fallen for it, and (the fear curls warm and sharp in your gut, and then turns itself inside out until it feels like something sweeter than fear) that you’ve no idea what it even is.

“Hm, let me see…” he flicks his eyes up, and it’s like he’s checking for something, and once he’s found it in you he just shifts. Holds himself a little looser, let’s his gaze pierce you deep, let’s his smile get a little mean, swipes his tongue across his teeth like he’s coaxing his fangs out. “So you didn’t want to get slapped across the face, then?”

You shiver. When you answer, your voice has gone all coarse, like you’re not used to using it. “I don’t…” you cringe, clear your throat, try again. “I don’t understand what…”

He nods, feigning understanding. “Mm, I’m sure you don’t…you need a second, honey?”

Honey. “I…”

“You must not have asked to get choked out, tied up, spanked and — you specifically asked for someone to spit in your mouth and call you a pretty little slut, isn’t that sweet — but I mean, it’s not like you filled this out, right?” He continues, making his eyes all big. You get the sense that he’s mimicking you, and it makes you wanna look at the ground because you don’t trust your eyes not to water a little. He’s so fucking mean (he’s so fucking perfect). “Do you need me to explain how this place works?”

You mumble something and he tuts, shakes his head. “Wanna try that again for me?”

It doesn’t feel like he’s asking, not really. It makes you feel small, stupid — makes you petulant. “I know how it works, I just…”

“You just what?” he simpers. He puts the papers down on the desk in the corner of the playroom, stands to lean against the wall of floggers and paddles and — fuck — crosses his arms, fixes you with a look that could rot iron. “You thought you’d fill out all that long, boring paperwork and you’d get paired up with just anyone? Do you think you’re just so uniquely filthy that no one would be able to keep up?”

Fuck. He’s so mean. You might be tearing up a little — you can feel it curling up in your chest, humiliation warming up your nose and pricking at your eyes. “I didn’t fucking—“

“Oh, look at the fucking mouth on you!” he giggles a little, but not like he thinks you’re funny — more like he thinks you’re so so dumb, just supremely stupid. “That’s cute, that’s just fucking precious…”

“I’m so sorry if I’m a little surprised that someone like you…” you spit the you at him, send it at him like a weapon, stand your ground and show him your teeth — reckless with frustration. “…would have the fucking guts to do any of that shit! It’s not my fault that you’re built like a fucking Disney princess.”

Perhaps a step too far, if the way he studies you is any indication. He’s gone all straight faced, and the contrast between his cherubic face and his dead-eyed gaze puts you on edge. Within his arm’s reach, there is an array of tools that could break you down to nothing with just one strike. He looks so out of place in a room like this, with a Saint John’s cross and a bed laid in all black with all the fittings — so many different spots to be strapped down. You don’t have to look up to know that if he wanted to, he could string you up from the ceiling like a chandelier. You’d even marked your interest down for that in your paperwork, so he already knows.

The appeal of this dungeon is the placement program — their success rate in people up with the perfect partner, with vetted professionals that specialize in knowing exactly what you want and how to give it to you. You should have known from the second he walked in that he was the perfect sadist for your masochistic tendencies — that he would slap you in the face and spit in your mouth, that he would strap you down and simper degrading little things in your ears, that he was going to torture you until you tapped out (and he probably also knew that aside from a couple hard-limits, it would take a lot to get you to tap, that you wanted to be pushed and prodded and batted around until you cried or passed out).

“Disney princess, huh?” He’s dropped the act completely now, and the mean curl to his mouth is so dissonant with the look of him — it just throws you off. In a way, it’s so much more exciting and terrifying the way he steps into this new skin, the way he wears his dominance. You imagine him with his hands around your throat, distaste marring his pretty face, and it’s so hot you get a little light-headed.

You think that maybe you should apologize, and then he widens his eyes (all big and innocent, he’s so sick) says “I’m gonna give you ten seconds to say sorry, ok?”

You clear your throat. “…or what?”

“I don’t know…” he grimaces, like it just pains him to do this to you (oh, he’s nasty). “I’d rather you didn’t make me punish you — there’s some really fucked up shit on your sheet, you know?”

You feel like the ten seconds has already started — he’s setting you up. He’s running his eyes over all the toys displayed against the wall, but you know he’s already got something in mind.

“I’m sorry?” You say, like you’re not sure.

“Mm..” he hums. “Little too late for that.”

He pushes off the wall, digs in the pocket of his worn-in looking Levi’s. Pulls out a little pocket-knife. “Don’t move, OK? I’d rather not make you bleed if I don’t have to.”

You freeze — there’s only one door out of the room, nowhere’s to run, nowhere to hide. It’s like he reads your mind, the way he steps towards you like he’s trying not to startle you, like he’s hunting. “I’m sorry…”

“Shhh, it’s ok, sweetheart — just gonna hurt you a little…” he says, slow and sweet like he’s got honey under his tongue. “Just gonna make you cry your pretty little eyes out…”

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