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hederasgarden · 1 year ago

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Sweet Surrender

Summary: Jake’s given and taken orders a hundred times throughout his career but nothing compares to the moment he realizes you liked it. Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x F!Reader Word Count: 2.1K Rating: 18+ only. Sexual content. Authority and sir kink, praise kink and Hangman being a cocky asshole. A/N: Thank you @wildbornsiren and @whatblogisthis216 for beta'ing and @blue-aconite for the beautiful graphic. In the future I may write part 2 if my muses cooperate. Reblogs and comments feed the muse.

Masterlist ♡ Top Gun Masterlist

Jake doesn’t pay much attention when you’re first introduced with the rest of the eggheads from the Office of Naval Research. Another one of many civilian engineers working on the new plane he’s been assigned to test. You keep things professional and polite although he can tell you find him attractive. It’s written all over your face and demeanor. You’re not the only one, several of the other engineers can’t seem to string together a full sentence around him.

You’re pretty, he can admit that much to himself, but a sweet face has never been enough on its own to hold his interest. Especially when he’s here to do a job, one he takes very seriously. The chance to be the first to fly the latest prototype jet isn’t an opportunity that comes up often. He volunteered immediately for the assignment when it came up, beating out most of his Top Gun class for the honor.

What he doesn’t bank on is having to sit through mind numbingly boring briefings and listen to the engineers argue anytime the tiniest adjustment is made. Most of his exposure to you is during these meetings but the first time you talk to him one on one is four weeks into the project.

That’s when he notices your particular….quirk. You’re following him out after the morning briefing, yammering away about the new wing design specs. He’s read your report in detail and already familiarized himself with the changes.

All Jake wants is a moment of silence to mentally prepare himself for today's test but you keep talking. It doesn’t help that he’s got the beginning of a headache forming behind his eyes and you’re oblivious to his attempts to cut the conversation short.

“I got it. I know how to fly a plane,” he tells you.

“Lieutenant Seresin,” you start but he cuts you off with a look.

“I’ve read your briefing packet, top to bottom. It was extremely thorough. If I have questions you’ll be the first person I ask. Scout’s honor,” he adds, giving you a sloppy half salute that seems to confuse you for a moment before you start talking again.

“I just want to make sure-“ you begin and Jake sighs, annoyed.

“I got it. Now go sit down,” he tells you curtly.

You step back back, brows raised. Jake almost misses the way your pupils dilate and your lips part just so.

"I'm sorry, Sir," you reply. "I..."You stammer and tug at the hem of your shirt before hurrying to take a seat.

You watch him from behind the computer bank as he climbs into the cockpit and fiddles with the controls. He can feel you watching him as he puts his helmet on. It’s clear to him that you want his approval, even if you don’t realize it.

Fuck, that paired with the ‘sir’ and the delicious little waver in your voice spikes his interest. He waits until you’re practically squirming in your chair before he gives you a nod. Your response is immediate, shoulders dropping and the tense lines on your face easing.

It’s not just that he makes you nervous, he’s seen that plenty of times before. No, this is different. Special. You liked it when he barked an order at you.

–

Over the next few weeks, he watches you closely, taking note of your responses to everyone you interact with. It’s clear you crave praise from others, perking up under any compliment you receive and deflating under criticism. However, it’s your response to authority that interests him most. You’ve got a natural inclination to listen to orders but as far as Jake can tell he’s the only one who elicits that type of reaction from you.

Each encounter he has with you is a chance to test the theory he has. He catalogs the difference in your responses; when he’s softer in his requests versus an outright order. Jake sees how quickly you obey a demand to sit next to him at the next briefing, just so he can be close to you. The speed you produce a new report just for him is a powerful thing. He especially loves the way you blossom under his praise when he compliments changes you've made to improve performance.

You’re smart, undeterred when the men in the room try to speak over you. Even though you’re quiet-natured, you’re no pushover either. He respects your determination and hard work.

The most telling moment is one afternoon when you’re loitering on the edge of the hanger as he finishes up his conversation with the flight chief. It’s clear you need to speak to him. The fact that you won’t interrupt him is just a bonus– something he knows from experience will translate well in the bedroom.

“Come here,” he commands, crooking a finger at you. He doesn’t even have to raise his voice to have you scurrying to him. You touch your chest and fiddle with the locket you wear, twisting the thin gold chair around your index finger. Jake’s not sure if he’s just gotten better at clocking your reactions or you’re extra affected today but whatever the reason, he’s enjoying the show.

“What do you need?” He asks.

“For you to sign the report,” you tell him, opening the folder and pointing to the highlighted portion.

When he takes the pen from you he makes sure to drag his fingertips over the back of your hand, watching for your reaction behind his aviators. The soft sound that passes your lips doesn't disappoint him. He thinks about what other sounds he could drag out of you. How he could get you desperate enough to beg him to fuck you. The way you’d sigh his name and -

“Sir?” Your soft voice snaps him out of his little daydream. You’re staring up at him expectantly. “I need my pen back, please.”

When he hands it back, you smile. It makes him long to pull you against him and kiss you breathless. To test out the limits of how well you’d listen to him but he knows he has to wait until the project is over. He’s not about to jeopardize either of your careers though as the weeks drag on he certainly finds himself fantasizing about that.

You’ve caught him staring at during the morning briefings once or twice, his chin resting on steepled fingers. It’s always the same response from you, the double blink and glance away. Sometimes you’ll bite your lips and fiddle with the pencil, tapping it in rapid succession against the table. He can feel your eyes on him too and he has to repress a smirk. These morning briefings are starting to become his favorite part of the day.

—

Two torturous months pass before the admiral visits and the project gets wrapped up. He has some innocent fun with you during that time, nothing overly mean, just enough to get you flustered and stoke the flame. His favorite form of foreplay.

The team celebrates at the Hard Deck. Alcohol flows freely and spirits are high. It turns out engineers partied harder than pilots. You only have a drink which bodes well for Jake. He needs you sober for this and wants a clear head of his own, nursing a single beer most of the night.

While he waits for an opportunity to get you alone he formulates how he wants to approach this. He doesn’t doubt his assessment. He’s rarely wrong about these things but it’s always possible you’re not completely aware of your quirk. If he embarrassed or frightened you all his waiting would be for nothing.

After another hour or so he senses his chance. You head outside to take a quick call and Jake follows. He waits at a safe distance to give you some privacy but once you slide the phone back into your jacket he makes his presence known.

“Lieutenant Seresin,” you greet. You look surprised to see him but pleased too.

“It’s Jake,” he corrects, stepping toward you.

When he presses into your space you take a half step back and then another, letting him herd you into a little alcove out of sight. You watch him curiously, maybe even a little confused. You’re not scared to be alone with him —you trust him.

“What’s up?” You’re trying for casual but failing adorably.

Jake’s close enough to touch you, but refrains from it. He won’t until he has your permission and understanding. He smirks and tits his head. A direct approach might be quicker but he’s curious if you’ll figure it out on your own.

“I know your secret, sweetheart,” he whispers.

That gets you going. You don’t seem to know where to put your hands. Nervous laughter comes next but Jake stays quiet, letting you squirm a little longer.

“My secret?” You question.

“It’s compatible with mine,” he hints.

You frown, forehead wrinkling. He recognizes the expression from countless morning briefings when you were contemplating a problem. It’s cute watching your brain work in real-time to put the pieces together. A full minute passes before your eyes dart back to his face, surprised.

He nods encouragingly and then very hesitantly you say, “Is that so, sir?”

There’s a heavy emphasis on the last word.

“Smart girl,” he praises.

You grin and rock back on your heels. “Well, I did design the aircraft you’ve been flying the last four months,” you shoot back.

He can see the struggle it is for you not to smile. You’re proud of your work and should be but he can’t have you mouthing off already.

“Don’t get smart with me,” he warns playfully, loving the way you immediately duck your head.

“Sorry, sir.”

You sound appropriately contrite and he smirks.

“Look at me.” Two fingers under your chin encourage you to meet his gaze. “I want you to be honest,” he begins, watching carefully for any sign you’re not on the same page as him. “Do you want to do this?”

“Do you mean…you mean sex, right?” You ask, looking a little unsure.

You’re so sweet that Jake slips character briefly to give you the soft smile you deserve. “Sex and more,” he confirms. “I can help you explore this side of yourself.”

“Yeah. I want that,” you tell him shyly.

“That’s good to hear, but that’s not how you talk to me, and I think you know it.”

“I want you to teach me, sir,” you respond.

“Better,” he praises.

He slides a hand up your jaw to grasp the back of your neck and angle your face upward so he can crush his lips against yours. He closes the distance between your bodies, pressing you back into the wall with a groan. You make a desperate little sound that goes right to his dick and grasp his biceps tightly.

You part your lips and fuck, he’s finally tasting you fully like he’s been imagining. He loves how soft and warm you are in his arms and the way his lips slide against yours. All of his pent-up desire is out now. The hand at your hip slides down the curve of your ass to grasp your thigh so he can grind shamelessly against you. You whimper, nails pressing into his skin. He rocks his half-hard cock into the warmest part of you, needing more friction. He wants to hear you make that little sound again too.

“Oh, please,” you gasp when you finally part.

You sound wrecked and he thinks you look it too.The skin of your face is warm to the touch and your eyes are a little glassy. Jake's half convinced you might let him have you here and for a moment he actually considers it. He knows how good that kind of messy, quick fuck can be but tonight he wants to see all of you. To spend his time taking you apart until you’re incoherent and at his mercy. He can’t do that here.

“Easy,” Jake whispers, running a hand down your back. “Look at me,” he instructs, smiling when you do. You’re trembling all over and he rubs his thumb over your swollen lips as he gazes down at you. “Catch your breath.”

Once you’re calm he lets go of you and runs a hand through his hair. You’re watching him, waiting to be told what to do. “Go inside, say goodbye to your friends. Then I want you to meet me out front. Got it?”

You nod and he surges forward to kiss you one more time before stepping back to let you past him.

Fuck, tonight is going to be good he thought.

♡

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ghostbeam · 8 months ago

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Oblivi_n.exe | Dabi/Touya Todoroki

Touya Todoroki, known as ‘Dabi’ to the league, quirk class: cremation, mech title: Blue. You’re his new handler.

As Dabi’s new handler, you’re well aware of his history, how frequently he goes through handlers assigned to him. Not that he ever uses them—it’s more complete resistance. You’re not particularly good at your job. Transferred from the PLF for lack of success in handling any of their pilots, you’ve always been far too gentle. You lack authority. Your pilots never respected you. You don’t think Dabi will be any different. You give it a week.

Notes: okay wow hiiiii it’s been a long time since I’ve posted an actual fic (nearing almost a year now😬) this is something I’ve been working on for a bit. I have mech brain rot curtesy of @streimiv and @hawnks (both of whom this is dedicated to bc there’s no way I could have written this without yapping to them abt it and also mint helped me come up w the acronym for HERO’s) and we’ve all got our own mech fics in the works atm but anywayssssss this is kind of my baby atm but I hope it makes sense it’s very inspired first and foremost by pacific rim and then also NGE (mostly through consumption of YouTube vids bc I haven’t actually watched it pls don’t hate me) it’s a whole mess of things and Dabi is kind of a bitch and reader is slowly coming into herself and at the end of the day they both wanna be metal fused to one another forever (no matter how hard he denies it) also I’m not a huge computer person idk if this title makes sense so don’t make fun of me pls ok anyways I hope u like it!!!!

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, pilot!Dabi x handler!reader, there’s no explicit sexual content in this part, not even a kiss sorry guys, mentions of robot gore (exposed wires, insides described as guts), brief descriptions of being trapped inside a small space, descriptions of burning while inside said space, mention of surgery to fashion a metal jaw onto someone, mentions of child abuse (nothing graphic just allusions to the todoroki family and touya’s past), angst, many run on sentences, a small cliff hanger

Words: 7.9k

Pt. 1 | Pt. 2 (coming soon)

You are nothing without your machine.

It’s the first rule, the first thing beaten into his brain by his father. You carry the burden of the mech alone, or you’re weak. You don’t exist.

U.A. raises the best and brightest pilots, navigators, mechanics, and handlers, each one carefully trained to ensure the most important outcome: winning. It should be protection. It should be defense. But if Touya has learned anything at all, it’s that winning means glory. It means worship. It means HERO’s (Human Engineered Robotic Objects) are saints, and pilots are gods.

Touya used to be one of those best and brightest before his accident.

First son to Enji Todoroki, Touya was supposed to be the golden child, the first Todoroki to pilot without a handler. He was supposed to carry the burden alone, something his father couldn’t do, something only one man has ever actually been capable of.

But Touya is born weak, bad bones, a brain unable to handle all that the mech needs to unload onto it. One too many accidents results in him being expelled from the pilot program, his HERO discarded and collecting dust in its pod, and Touya is promptly transferred to mechanics.

It should have been a smooth transition. If one kid can’t handle it, the next will. Because they have to.

He doesn’t take the news well. It’s a fit of tears, a persistent fight, unable to accept the loss of his machine—of his body. Because Touya loves it. What he lacks in strength, he makes up for in pure passion, and despite being unable to handle the burden, there’s no denying that he’s good. He’s almost perfect.

But almost is not enough for Enji Todoroki, and no matter how hard Touya tries, he’s made up his mind.

After months of mechanics, Touya makes a decision. When the next fleet of HERO’s is deployed for the next kaiju battle, Touya sneaks in among the chaos, tucked neatly inside the chest of his machine where he belongs. It doesn’t take long for things to go south, for Touya to get caught in the crossfire, losing control of his mech and burning from the inside out.

It should be an excruciating death, stuck inside a machine made for war, fire raining from above as a battle continues on outside without him.

But he survives, because what he lacks in strength, he makes up for in resilience, and his mech is programed with solutions to every situation. He’s stuck inside for months before he’s found.

Tomura Shigaraki rescues him, pries open the chest of his mech and pulls him from inside. His group feeds him, takes him in, fashions a new jaw for him made from the metal of his mech, and allows him the decision to join their cause or go back home.

And since there’s no home to go back to, Touya finds his footing with the league and becomes one of their top pilots. One who vehemently resists any and all handlers.

…

Touya Todoroki, known as ‘Dabi’ to the league, quirk class: cremation, mech title: Blue. You’re his new handler.

Following closely behind Tenko, formerly Tomura, he quickly explains to you the in’s and out’s of the pilot/handler relationship, along with a warning about Dabi’s resentment toward the whole idea. You try to keep up, but he talks quickly and uses his hands a lot. Even so, you can tell he’s a natural leader, something he had to grow into after overthrowing the man who raised him. His story is a tragic one, and it resonates with you because Tenko came out the other side stronger. Now, the league is a community with a cause, one you really believe in. Even if you and Dabi aren’t the right fit, you still have a place here.

You follow Tenko into what he calls the garage, a large floor of the abandoned academy that serves as the league’s base, this part of it full of HERO’s and mechanics all focused on the machines in front of them. It’s completely different from how HERO’s were worked on at UA, where you grew up, and even the PLF didn’t have one dedicated floor to this sort of work. You can feel the energy of the room buzzing on your skin, music blasting from old radios and mechanics tossing tools towards one another in a familiar routine. Tomura leads you to Dabi and his HERO, Blue, though you’re instructed not to call it a HERO around him. With goggles over his eyes and gloved hands, he brings two wires from Blue’s ankle together, sighing at the way they spark each time they connect.

“Dabi.” Tomura calls over the music coming from the radio hanging off of Dabi’s waist. He drops the wires and his gaze flickers toward the two of you. Pushing his goggles up to his forehead, he gives you a once over. His eyes are the brightest you’ve ever seen—kaiju blood blue—and burn scars litter his body. He’s striking in a way you’ve never seen, almost too beautiful to be human. Giving Dabi your name, Tomura explains that you’re taking over as his handler, seeing as he couldn’t keep the last one for more than a couple of days. “She’s your last handler. If you can’t keep this one, then go ahead and fry your brain. See if I care.”

“You say that every time.” Dabi calls from around sucker as Tomura walks away, leaving you alone with your new pilot.

You just your hand out in a greeting, “I’m looking forward to working with you.”

Eyeing your hand, Dabi shakes his head and turns his back to you, picking the two wires back up and connecting them again, despite the same spark from before igniting between the two. He looks back up at Blue, touching his fingers to the slim lines starting at the back of her ankle and running all the way up her leg. You peak over his shoulder at the wiring, noticing that he’s connecting two of the wrong ones.

“It’s the wrong wire.” You tell him, and he spins around to look at you, tearing his goggles from his face as he scoffs.

“Here we go.” He sighs with a roll of his eyes, pulling the candy from his lips and tossing it onto the tool cart without a care. “Handler know-it-all bullshit. This is my mech.”

You push passed him and grab the similarly colored wire from beside a red wire and connect it with the one in Dabi’s right hand. Blue lights up cyan through the thin lines that run along each of its limbs and torso, connecting with the two cameras within its head, which seem to blink before the light reaches them.

In an instant, you’re being pushed up against the hard metal, a strong arm over your chest—pinning you up against the HERO. Dabi, now having discarded his goggles, looks at you full of white, hot rage.

“Don’t fucking touch her.” He growls. You’re suddenly aware of the close proximity, eyes flickering between the snarl across his lips and his angry gaze. For a beat, you both freeze, the air suddenly charged like you’re waiting for one another to strike. Snapping yourself out of his hypnotic stare, you push against his chest, forcing him to let you go.

“If I’m going to be you’re handler, you’re going to have to trust me with her.” You remind him. He lets out a harsh laugh, like he can’t believe you would suggest such a ridiculous idea.

“I don’t trust anything but this machine.” He speaks, turning away from you to seal up the machine’s exposed wires. It’s a challenge you’re willing to accept.

“Well, I’m here to change that.” You tell him, before turning on your heel to leave him alone.

He thinks he’ll give you a week.

…

One of the worst parts of being assigned a handler, Touya thinks, is the way that pilot/handler living quarters are set up. He assumes the academy, before it was abandoned and turned into a base for the league, created this sort of set up so that handlers could keep a close eye on their pilots. The handlers Touya has burned through up until now also assumed the same.

The door that connects both the pilot’s and handler’s dorms doesn’t lock, and all of Touya’s past handlers have taken advantage of this fact. He’s been pulled out of bed far too early, pushed around and commanded and barked at. Most handlers behaved as if pilots belonged to them, which was the sentiment drilled into their brains from being thrown into such a fucked up system at a young age.—unless you were a pilot of status like a Todoroki. While he league dedicates a lot of its time to reversing these ideas, most handlers look at Touya like some kind of challenge, this arrogant pilot begging to be tamed. It never takes long for them to realize how easily he’s able to flip the switch on them. You’ll be no different.

But hours pass and you still haven’t entered. You don’t swing the door open and demand he apologize for his behavior earlier. You don’t try and punish him with training regimes, a command of a set of push ups, a schedule you expect him to follow, an extremely detailed meal plan. The entire evening comes and goes without so much as a sound on the other side of the door so he knows you’re even behind it.

He falls asleep unnerved by this, waking up late into the night in a cold sweat, expecting you to barge in, rip the covers from his body and demand to train together. When he wakes up (peacefully) the next morning, there’s no sign of you. He rises from his bed, drinks orange juice straight from the carton and eats a candy bar for breakfast. He fiddles with the navigation screen from his mech that stopped working a couple of days ago, tools spread out on the counter in front of him. Once he’s got the thing working again, your knock sounds from the unlocked door between the two of you. He thinks this might be it, the commands he expects to fall from your lips at the ready as he swings the door open, but you stand there, nervous, hands twitching as your eyes finally meet his.

Greeted by a shirtless Touya, hair mused from sleep, cargo pants hung low on his hips, dog tags swinging against his chest, his scars on display, unashamed and proud. The sight of him knocks the breath out of you, and you clear your throat in embarrassment, hoping your state of dreaming comes off as nerves rather than lust.

“Dabi. Or do you prefer Touya?” You smile. When he doesn’t answer, you continue. “I wanted to see if you wanted to eat breakfast together in the caf. I think we should start over. Yesterday was—”

You’re promptly cut off, “I already ate breakfast.”

With a harsh slam of the door, he leaves you stunned in your room.

You eat alone.

When you started as a pilot, back when you’d entered UA (a few years about Touya’s accident), you went into it believing you could change the world. The exam had placed you into the position of handler, and you were assigned a pilot who had always seemed a little frightened of you despite your obvious lack of authority. Bringing the fact up to your instructors did nothing. They all assured you that this was the ideal dynamic, that the handler always had the upper hand, but you hated that feeling. You weren’t a team like you expected to be; you were urged to control your pilot. You were there to keep them in line, not to be a pillar of support. The bond was never built on trust, and the soul link was always a looming threat. No matter how many pilots you went through, the link was never held as a gift, but a prison, something you would both be stuck with for the betterment of society, a sacrifice to make.

You’d been expelled from the handler program after guiding your pilot to help save another in the wreckage of your first battle together, resulting in the damage of your pilot’s HERO. Your pilot was okay, but the other couldn’t be saved, and you were blamed for the damage of both mech’s.

When you found the league (or when the league found you), you were working with the PLF, but proved to be a weak handler. Every pilot you were assigned to took advantage of your optimistic outlook on the kind of relationship dynamic that pilots had with their handlers. Despite all that you had been through at UA, and with the rest of the pilots you’d been paired with after, you never gave up the hope that handlers and pilots could behave as a team, or, even better, one entity.

Tenko had taken one look at you and demanded you’d be transferred to the league. There hadn’t been much of a choice in the matter, not that you really cared. You were miserable everywhere else. But when you arrived at the abandoned academy and taken a peak behind the kudzu covered walls where each and every area of the building acted as multiple moving parts in collaboration with one another in order to create one massive system, you realized that this was the future you imagined for yourself—and for the world you lived in.

Tenko saw something in you that day, something you aren’t sure you even see in yourself. And so Dabi was your first task, one that’s proving to be very difficult. But he doesn’t treat you like all the other pilots before had. He doesn’t use you. In fact, it seems like he wants nothing to do with you. And while that’s a problem, it’s still one you can work with.

You’re broken from your thoughts by the sound of a voice through an overhead intercom asking for everyone to meet on the first floor of the academy at their earliest convenience. Judging by the quick movements of those around you, you figure you’d better head downstairs as soon as possible.

The meeting on the first floor makes you very aware of just how small the league really is. While it’s definitely not a tiny organization, it’s still much smaller than both UA and the PLF. With everyone piled up like this in one group, you realize it feels more like a community, and the hum of conversation that surrounds you comforts you in a way you’ve never felt within the walls of any other academy before.

There’s discussion about the upcoming mission, one which may be the league’s most ambitious yet; the plan to hijack a mech and kidnap a pilot may be a little unorthodox compared to the league’s past missions, but the jaded pilot they’re targeting has a high chance of joining the cause. Or that’s what they have assumed. As the bodies move and speak around you, it strikes you how different this meeting is from any other meeting you’ve ever been a part of. Tenko is less a dictator and more a wrangler for the disembodied voices of your peers.

You don’t know much about his story, save for the vague details you’ve heard, but Tenko’s status as a lone handler is something you find yourself curious about. If he’s able to work without a pilot, why can’t you? It’s an idea you keep in your back pocket, one you think you can fall back on if things with Touya don’t work out. But you want them to work out. So badly.

You aren’t sure what it is about him, but he’s reignited that spark inside of you. You know he’d rather you give up, and maybe the you from a couple of months ago would have, but something about him—and this place—won’t let you leave.

As you observe the meeting, you take the time to look around the room, taking in your peers and their attentive faces as they listen to Tenko intently. You turn to your right, your eyes meeting a pair of blue ones, impossible to miss. Dabi holds your stare for what feels like ages, and when your colleagues erupt in a fit of many simultaneous discussions, you tear your eyes from his to observe the commotion. When you glance back in his direction, he’s gone.

You don’t seem him again after that. You train with other handlers, get to know your peers a little better. Everyone else seems to be welcoming, and most offer you sympathy when they find out you’re Touya’s new handler. From what you can gather, he’s had his fair share of them, all of which have quit or left in hysterics due to his harsh nature. When you ask around about where he could be, you’re told that he’s most likely in the garage, a place you assume he’s in more often than not.

You don’t know if you’ll ever get used to the garage. A place so completely different, so against the ideas and beliefs of any other academy you’ve been a part of, the chaos and community within is so foreign to you. You find Touya with Blue, working inside of her chest, where the cockpit is.

“Touya!” You call up to him and watch as he peaks his head over the edge of her metal plating. Annoyance falling across his face, he jumps down from where he stands, landing hard on his feet in front of you.

“What are you doing here?” He questions, his figure so tall and imposing above you. He’s not particularly muscular, not even all that tall compared to Tenko, but he makes you feel small regardless, in more ways than one. Rolling your shoulders back, you stare straight into his eyes, unwilling to back down.

“I figured you wanted your space today.” You explain, as Touya moves around you to get to his rolling cart of tools, forcing you to turn toward him and follow him if you want him to hear you. “I know adjusting to a new handler is rough, and I never want to make you uncomfortable. But I was thinking we could try some of those pilot/handler bonding exercises. It might be good to start training like some of the others do.”

He drops the wrench in his hand onto his cart with a loud thud, turning around toward you with a look of disbelief on his face. “Pilot/handler bonding exercises? They really brainwashed the shit out of you at UA, huh?”

At the mention of your past academy, your eyes widen in surprise. You had no idea he knew about that. Clearing your throat in order to compose yourself, you speak again, “I left UA for a reason. I have no attachment to their methods, but you guys do the same stuff here, so what’s the issue?”

“The issue is that I never asked for a fucking handler in the first place, especially not one as eager as you.” He spits, “Sure, you’re understanding now, all that bullshit about ‘giving me space,’ but the moment you get a lick of power over me, you’ll change. You’re not different.”

“I don’t want power over you. This is an equal exchange. Pilot’s and handlers are meant to be a team—” You try and argue, but he doesn’t let you finish.

“That’s what they told you, right? We’re a team, and as teammates, you make sacrifices. And it doesn’t matter if one of you turns into the other’s braindead dog because that’s your place.” His words hit you hard, the exact thought process you went through when leaving UA, completely disillusioned with their idea of “teamwork.” He’s right, and you know it, but since coming here, you thought that wasn’t how it had to be.

“Look, trust me, I get—” You’re cut off again.

“You went to UA! There’s no trusting you.” He scoffs, “It’s not like you’ll last here, anyway.”

“You are such a hypocrite! You’re from UA!” You retort, throwing your arms up in desperation. “You can hate me all you want. You can resist and resist and fry your brain ‘till there’s nothing left, but I believe in this shit. And you don’t get to tell me that I don’t, or tell me I’ll turn into something I worked so hard to get away from.”

Touya stands there, surprised by your outburst, completely unaware that you were capable of all of that. He doesn’t say anything back, and you roll your eyes. “So fuck you, and, by the way, her angel port is smoking.”

At your words, he turns in a rush, seeing the smoke billowing from Blue’s chest as he climbs his way up her form. Once inside his machine, he extinguishes the port and allows himself to relax. There are two things on his mind in this moment: how you could have possibly known it was the angel port without being inside of Blue’s chest and how, for the first time in a long time, he feels bad for his handler.

But for you, it’s the first time you’ve ever held your own against a pilot before, and that feels good.

…

Something feels weird.

Off, unsettling, strange.

He realizes, much to his dismay, that it’s your absence. Despite only having you around for such a short time, Touya has realized that your lack of presence now feels wrong. He hates it. He hates you.

He can’t find you. You haven’t knocked on his door. You’re not in the caf, not the garage, not the sparring floor, not in your room. And he did check—without knocking.

He’s not even sure how he can feel an absence. You aren’t a regular part of his life, and he never wanted you to be. But he feels all fucked up.

During training, Touya jams Blue’s halo core and she leaks vibrant neon from between her ribs. It takes him half an hour to get her reboot her system and rips one of the cables attached to the back of his suit in the process. He spends the afternoon cleaning HERO fluid off the sparring floor.

During repairs, he shocks himself over and over while trying to fix her core, fingers burning from the sparks each time he arranges the wires inside. The cameras in her eyes won’t work from the reboot, and Blue won’t let him unlock the lens panel to fix it. It’s almost like she’s mad at him too.

He’s a complete mess. It’s your fault. He has no choice but to go looking for you. Again.

He searches every wing of the academy before concluding that you’re in your room. He barges through the joint door, spotting you at the counter in your tiny kitchen. You’re surprised by the intrusion, a frightened gasp falling from your lips as you jump in your seat. You turn toward him, prepared with angry words on your tongue, but Touya speaks first.

“You’re not getting an apology out of me, so don’t expect it.” He begins, moving to stand in front of your swiveling kitchen stool as he looks down at you. “But I’m willing to be civil with you, so we don’t have to do this shit anymore.”

You’re not exactly sure what “this shit” is, but Touya looks a little worse for wear at the moment, so you don’t question it. He places a tray from the caf down in front of you that you hadn’t noticed in his hands upon arrival, says nothing else, and turns to leave the room. After shutting your joint door, you look down at the tray of food, noticing one of his suckers placed onto a vacant compartment of the tray.

You’re greeted the next morning with a knock on your door, Touya dressed in his pilot’s suit on the other side as you swing the door open. “C’mon. You’re gonna watch me train today.”

You watch him turn around to leave, expecting you to follow. You rush to pull on your combat boots and grip your dog tags in your fist as you rush to catch up to him. He doesn’t spare you a glance as you fall into step beside him, taking a look around his dorm before he leads you through the exit door.

“You need to get a feel for my fighting style.” He explains as you walk down the corridor. “I’m not saying I’ll listen to you when it comes down to it, but it’s important for you to know.”

You nod, agreeing that you should definitely observe him inside of his HERO. By understanding his moves, you’ll be able to understand the way he thinks, and you’ll be able to help him in actual combat if needed. He’s already said he won’t listen to you, but it won’t stop you from trying. He stops abruptly, turning to look at you, and you stop with him.

“If we’re gonna do this, it’ll be on my terms. I’m not your dog.” He tells you, seriously. He eye’s you up and down, taking in your expression as you nod at his words. “If anything, you’re mine.”

He begins walking again, leaving you in your spot, irritation filling your chest as you watch him, smug. “Asshole.” You curse under your breath.

“What’d you say?” He barks, turning to look at you abruptly.

“You’re an asshole.” You speak louder. He walks back toward you, making sure to tower over you intimidatingly as he looks down at you in annoyance. His eyes flicker down to the tags around your neck before hooking a finger on the chain and pulling you closer.

“Watch it.” He drops the chain and walks away again.

You follow him to the sparring floor, and he shows you where to go to watch. Stood behind a large window that looks over the sparring area, other members of the base watch the HERO’s engage in combat below. You spot Tenko and he motions for you to stand beside him.

“I knew he’d warm up to you.” He comments. The last of the previous battle finishes and you watch the two enormous machines retreat to the sides of the area, their pilots emerging from their chests with their handlers rushing to the bottom of the mech’s in support.

“He hasn’t. He’s not.” You shake your head. You aren’t sure why you deny it, if it’s some way to keep your expectations low or if there’s some kind of embarrassment aspect to the whole thing. Whatever is happening between you and Touya feels intimate and private, something that the two of you need to figure out for yourselves, not something meant for the eyes of others.

“Hm. Okay.” Tenko shrugs. “Guess not.”

You hadn’t noticed Touya enter his mech at all. You see the swing of one giant mechanic arm, too close to the window you stand behind, and you’ve shifted your full attention to the scene at hand.

The enormity of the room surprises you, despite the fact that you had seen it just moments before. But when you’re truly looking at it, watching these huge machines go at each other, the way the ground shakes, the leaves outside shake, the deep forrest clear in view from the wall that opens out to the greenery (the lack of a wall is likely from the academy’s abandoned state, but it’s a good feature to have on the sparring floor when giant robots are toppled over onto various surfaces).

The way Blue moves is electric, mechanic movements almost feel fluid with the way that Touya pilots her, easily dodging attacks from their opponent and moving around them in the most graceful way a giant machine can. It’s beautiful, unlike any fighting style you’ve ever seen in a HERO before.

“He’s showing off for you.” Tenko observes from beside you. You don’t argue with him, only because you can’t dispute it. This is your first time seeing him in action. It makes your heart beat out of your chest. There’s this ache like you should be inside with him, cables connected to both of you, tucked neatly inside of Blue together.

It doesn’t take him long to get his opponent on their back, the heavy thump against the floor jostling the ant-like figures on the ground below, handlers waiting for their pilots to finish. It goes on like this for a while, his training, using different methods of combat and winning each time. He’s amazing, and you can tell why his reputation is the way it is, second only to Tenko, who you have yet to see in action.

When he finishes his last session, you watch Blue walk to the edge of the room, and Touya emerges from her chest, jumping the long way down her body without any issue. You watch as he looks toward the window you’re behind. He waves at you, an acknowledgment of your presence, and you wave back, though you aren’t sure he can actually see you.

It’s the beginning of everything for the two of you. You think Tenko was right.

He lets you stay with him afterwards while he does maintenance on Blue. He helps you climb up the path to her chest, hauling you over the edge to sit inside with him. He turns around abruptly, holding a hand up before allowing you to walk any further.

“Do not touch anything.” He warns, completely serious, before letting his hand fall and allowing you further into the cockpit. You take in your surroundings, the guts of his machine, analyzing the different control panels and screens that line the interior. You can tell he takes good care of her, and he spends a lot of time in here. It looks lived in, stickers stuck to metal plating and pieces of him all over. He’s made a second home in between the ribs of his mech. You feel a little jealous, though you aren’t sure of what.

The two of you sit against the left side of Blue’s interior, waiting for her updates to finish, the loading screen on each of her monitors display a fire graphic that grows with the increasing percentage on screen. Between you and Touya sits an opened bag of sour gummies, which Touya picks out the lemon flavor and drops the candy in your palm with each new handful he gathers.

“How do you know all this stuff?” He questions around a mouthful of sour cherry, “Like, the real names for things, where stuff goes, how to fix them. That day with the wires…”

“I spent a lot of time around mechanics at UA, and then also at the PLF.” You explain, picking the yellow colored candy from his open palm as you speak. “I couldn’t connect with other handlers. I didn’t like how they thought, or how they viewed the pilot/handler relationship. Mechanics were mostly neutral, and they loved these machines like nothing else. They reminded me of why I joined UA in the first place.”

“Hm.” He nods, thinking about your past. “Well, I guess if you spent so much time around actual professionals…I could maybe use your help sometimes in the garage.”

“Really?” You question excitedly, a spark lighting up your eyes as you swerve your head toward him. He feels something tight in his chest at the sight.

“Yes, but only on the outside. I don’t want you messing with her insides, yet.” He establishes. “And never alone. I have to be there at all times.”

“Of course, yes, oh my god. Touya!” You smile, gripping his shoulder firmly, a gesture of thanks, communication of how much his trust means to you. “I’ll be so careful with her, I promise.”

“Yeah, well, you have no other choice.” He shrugs, throwing another pile of candy in his mouth. “I’ll kill you if anything happens to her.”

You take the threat seriously, but his heart isn’t in it. He’s realized that you’ve wormed your way into his life and he hadn’t even noticed just how entangled you were now.

As the weeks go by, you spend a lot more time together. You work on blue together, and you rest inside of her chest, sometimes allowing yourself to drift off against his shoulder on especially tiring days. He sits beside you in the caf, and while he doesn’t always say much, the feeling of his arm against yours is comforting. You can tell people are starting to notice, and they’re starting to talk. You’re being dubbed someone who’s tamed him, but you know how far from the truth that is.

Despite your differences and the petty arguments that come up when Touya feels like you’re intruding on his independence, you’re growing attached. You wonder if he is, too.

…

Spending time together in the garage becomes the new normal for the two of you. Being in each other’s dorms feels far too intimate, so you always meet in the garage. This way, one of you is always busy doing something with your hands. There’s no room for any strange feelings in the pit of your stomach to seep in.

You sit in the crook of Blue’s neck, watching Touya as he repairs the lenses in her “eyes.” Blue has three pairs of eyes; in her head, her chest, and down near her hips, which all footage is projected onto monitors inside the cockpit so that Touya has a full view of what’s in front of him.

He’s so peaceful while he works, you’ve noticed, almost like he goes somewhere else completely. It’s a part of him you don’t think many people get to see, a piece of him just for you, and you want to be selfish with it.

“Can I ask you something?” You question, leaning your head back against the metal. “But you can’t get mad.”

He looks up at you, still fiddling with a lens, a mocking look on his face. “I’m not making any promises.”

You take a deep breath, preparing yourself for the possible fallout of the question you’re about to ask, “What do you think about the soul link?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “I’d never do it.”

You nod your head in understanding, “yeah, I get it. It’s weird, right? The idea that someone else would be inside your brain.”

“It’s fucking invasive.” He says.

“You know, at UA it always felt like a threat, you know. Like, it was a way for a handler to control their pilot, not a tool or a bond like it should be.” You begin, thinking back to how you viewed the soul link back then. You didn’t like how the bond was presented as this power that a handler holds over their pilot, a threat to keep their pilot in line. But, you could understand how the link could be used for good. “But since coming here, I can tell it’s not all bad. People trust each other here. I mean, there’s obviously some people who abuse it, but, for the most part, everyone seems to understand what it really means to be a pilot and a handler.”

You’re mostly just thinking out loud, but Touya doesn’t say anything to your ramblings. He continues to work on the lenses, and you can gather that he doesn’t want to talk about the subject anymore. But you can’t let it go, yet. There’s something you’ve been worried about since you met him.

“And what about…your brain? They say when a handler and a pilot don’t complete the soul link, the pilot will eventually fry their brain.” You can’t help it. You think about it all the time, what will happen when he can’t take it anymore. The closer you get to him, the realer it feels. “Are you ever worried about that?”

He looks at you, an expression you can’t quite make out fall across his face as he stares. It’s almost soft, the way he looks at you in this moment. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

The truth is, this is a reality Touya has accepted. He’s not afraid to die, and he never has been. He’ll probably die inside of Blue, and he has no problem with that fact. He doesn’t need to be around for long, just enough to show his dad what he’s capable of.

“C’mon.” You stare. “That’s not fair.”

“Shit. I left some of the screws for this in my dorm.” He curses. He looks where you lounge, tucked into Blue’s shoulder. “Keep an eye on her, okay?”

You watch him jump down, much higher than his usual height at her chest, but he lands anyway. He doesn’t turn to look back at you as he jogs away. You climb up the side of Blue, and look at the lenses in her head. They’re already repaired, and you know Touya used the excuse of missing screw just so he wouldn’t have to talk about the soul link.

But it’s the first time he’s ever left you alone with Blue before.

…

As the mission draws closer, Touya throws himself into training. You’re on the training floor with him most days, standing behind that big glass panel as you watch him spar with his peers. He still doesn’t let you down on the floor with him until he’s full out of Blue and close enough to the edge of the sparring floor to get to you. You’re not allowed in the actual training area, and even though he says he doesn’t want you clinging to him, it’s really because he wants to keep you safe. Seeing your human body near the giant machines that are HERO’s makes him want to grab you and keep you inside of Blue’s chest forever.

You can tell all the training is taking a toll on him. With an excess of headaches and the occasional nosebleed, you continuously get into arguments about him cutting back on training inside of Blue. There are other ways for him to prepare that don’t involve his fragile brain being hooked up to an entity that takes so much. He doesn’t listen.

Later and later into the night, as your fellow pilots and handlers disperse and return to their rooms to sleep, Touya stays inside of Blue, testing her movements and sparring against test dummies and obstacles. Once you and Touya are the only two left on the sparring floor, you speak into the intercom attached to your head.

“Touya, I think you should take a break.” You tell him, “It’s late. Get some rest and then we can pick it back up in the morning.”

There’s a pause, then, “I’m gonna stay for another hour. Get some sleep. I’ll be done soon.”

“No, Touya. You’ve been at it for hours. You barely took a break for dinner. C’mon.”

“You know, you sound awfully like a handler trying to tell their pilot what to do.” He teases, but you can hear the irritation in his voice.

“You are insufferable. I’m worried about you.” You groan.

“I’m fine. Go sleep.” He insists.

“If I find out you aren’t out of here in an hour—” Your line is promptly cut off, leaving behind static in your ear. You sigh and throw your com to the side. You hope he’s telling the truth.

With one last look at Blue, you make your way out of the training floor and find your way back to your dorm.

Touya doesn’t answer the door when you knock the next morning. With a frustrated groan, you leave your dorm and head to the training floor, assuming he woke up early to get some extra hours in. The closer you get the the floor, you notice other members of the base rushing in front of you. Feeling panicked, you pick up the pace, jogging toward the training room to make sure something isn’t wrong. You collide with a body in front of you, nearly falling to the floor as you steady yourself. Toga stands in front of you, her cheeks red and eyes glossy as she explains something your mind can’t catch up to understand. The only thing you recognize is his name, and you’re running toward the training floor in an instant.

You watch as Blue stomps around the area, her arms swinging in all directions, losing her footing as she moves. Knowing you can’t do anything on the floor, you make your way up to the overlook, finding Tenko yelling into your intercom.

“What’s going on? What’s happening?” You ask him, pulling the headset off of his head and placing it on yours instead.

“He’s out of fucking control. He won’t answer. I don’t even think he’s conscious in there.” He tells you, running a hand through his hair, pulling at the roots in anxiety. “You’re not linked yet, are you?”

You shake your head, closing your eyes in frustration as you try to think. You know it’s the only way. You have to take some of the burden off of him, make him share it with you. It’s the only way he’ll survive right now. “Do you think you can get into Decay right now and knock him down somehow?”

He hesitates, “I can get inside. I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to touch him at all.”

“You have to.” You plead, desperately. “I just need him down for ten seconds, tops. As long as I can get inside of her, I can save him.”

He looks at you like you’re insane, and maybe you are. But you know you can’t live with yourself if you don’t try something. Tenko nods.

“I can do it.” He tells you. You rush passed him, following the stairs down to the training area. You feel Tenk grab your wrist firmly. “You bring him back, okay?”

“I will.” You nod.

He dodges Blue’s movements, weaving between her legs as he finally makes it to Decay. It takes a few moments for him to connect, but he goes straight for Blue. You watch the giant machines fight one another, but it’s clear that Blue’s lack of control hinders much of her ability. She needs Touya just as much as he needs her. It’s tough for Decay to dodge her swinging arms, but Tenko manages to knock her down quickly.

The fall shakes the room, but you waste no time running for Blue. Climbing over the side of her, you manage to touch your thumb to the pad on the outside to open her chest up. She begins to stand up, and you slip down, grabbing onto a bar beneath her ribcage. You let out a frustrated groan as you try to pull yourself up over the edge of the cockpit. Finally making it over, you see Touya sitting there, still connected to his pilot’s chair, eyes glazed over and blood gushing from his nose. You push the button that closes the panel in Blue’s chest, and you’re suddenly alone with him.

Touya’s body is being jerked around by the movement of the mech, and you hang onto the walls of her chest in order to make your way to him. You situate yourself in his lap, taking his head in your hands as you look at him with tears in your eyes.

“You fucking asshole! I told you to take a break.” You sob, resting your head against his as you try and think of what to do next. “Touya, please. Please, baby, I need to you come back. Just fucking come back so I don’t have to do this without your permission, please.”

With no response from him, you wipe your tears, coming to terms with the fact that you have to complete the soul link now, or he’ll die. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, Touya. Please forgive me.”

The soul link isn’t exactly an action so much as it is a feeling, an experience. There’s no trigger for it, no way to make it happen. It just begins.

It’s Touya, aged thirteen, wild, chubby-cheeked and happy, in the pilot’s seat of his father’s HERO. It’s his drive, his determination, his anger, his hurt. It’s the day he snuck into battle, the day he couldn’t get out, flesh burning and fusing to the metal walls of his mech, the feeling now deep in your skin. It’s you, aged fifteen, hopeful, alive, shaking hands with your first pilot. It’s your heart, much too big and much too open for your line of work, it’s your passion, your fire, every piece of you that was broken down again and again until there was nothing left. It’s Touya and it’s you, and every single bit of your souls now tied together in one big knot.

There’s nothing but darkness. And then there’s screaming. And then you can hear everything. Every thought running through Touya’s brain right now echoes in your head as you slowly come back to yourself. He can hear the same of yours.

It’s overwhelming at first, to have two sets of thoughts in your head at the same time, but you manage to focus. You can feel an anger inside of you like you’ve never felt. It’s almost like it’s your own. You need to come back. You’ve lost control of Blue.

In an instant, you feel yourself come back to your body, now straddling Touya like before, you feel his arms shoot around you and he tucks his chin over your shoulder to pilot Blue like he’s used to doing. He pays no mind as he presses up against you, but you feel your heart rate increase at the closeness.

He’s so close.

I have to be. You’re in my lap.

Shit. I didn’t think—

Clearly.

I can’t fucking believe you. I told you we weren’t going to do this.

You were dying!

Then you fucking let me!

You’re jostled around in his lap for a moment as he stops Blue from destroying any more of the training floor, and Touya wraps an arm around your waist, holding you steady.

He gains control of her quickly, moving her toward the edge of the room. You tuck your face into his neck, not wanting to distract him and keeping your thoughts at bay so you don’t overwhelm him. He powers Blue down, severing the neural connection between the two of you, and shoves you from his lap and into the pilot’s chair like you’ve burned him. He storms out of the cockpit, climbing out of his machine and leaving you inside. You think about the argument you had within each other’s head, how Touya would have rather died than be linked to you like he is now.

You slump against the seat, comforted by the metal cage you’ve been left inside of.

#dabi x reader #touya todoroki x reader #bnha x reader #tw claustrophobia #just in case it’s like so brief and doesn’t describe much yet but I just wanna be safe #ghost.writes #ghost.fic

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lonely-ey3s · 4 months ago

Text

With All My Love : Chapter 3 | breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth...

Chapter 3: Breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth...

Pairing: joel miller x f!reader, no outbreak

Word count: 10.7k

Chapter Summary: After telling Maria everything about you and Joel, you start to realize your feelings may not be one-sided. However, just when you think things are about to calm down, you and the group are assigned to fly out on a field assignment for several days. Meanwhile, Joel hasn’t heard from you in weeks due to the mail being blocked on your side. He starts to worry something might have happened, but once Sarah discovers something after speaking to Tommy on their way out on a weekend getaway for a soccer tournament, Joel’s whole outlook changes for the better.

Chapter warnings: anxiety, flirting, fluff, mentions of blood, mentions of guns, mentions of active combat and unaliving, panic attack, a smidge of angst, language, slow burn, guys we have smut in this chapter (18+ MDNI), m!masturbation, mentions of death, flying and jumping out of a plane (yeahh no thanks)

Banners by: @saradika-graphics

Main Masterlist

Reader’s POV

After spilling everything to Maria about Joel’s letters and what he sent you, you both fell asleep on the floor of Terrance and Reggie’s.

You woke up 7 hours later to Reggie and Terrance laughing over something in their bunks.

Seven hours was the longest you had slept in days. You sat up on the backs of your elbows and looked around. Maria was still fast asleep next to you. You sat up more and yawned, then looked at your watch. You still had time to grab something to eat, take a quick shower, and maybe write a letter back to Joel, depending on whether any emergencies pulled you away.

You stood to your feet and realized someone must’ve put a blanket over you when you slept, Maria as well. You put your blanket gently over Maria and walked towards the boys “What are you two up to?” you started stretching your arms over your head and cracking your neck as you woke up a little stiff.

“Nothin' much, you sleep good?” Reggie asked, eating a bowl of what looked to be cornflakes.

You shrugged and nodded, “As good as you can on the floor. " You lightly chuckled. “Hey, do either of you know if we have the okay to Skype family and friends? Like, do we have a special computer or somewhere we can do that?” You tried to ask nonchalantly.

“Yeah - they said your laptop we got when we got here is approved to do things like that,” Terrance said as he was working on a crossword puzzle.

“Oh, gotcha. I didn’t know if we were ok to do personal stuff on it like that. Good to know.” you nodded and then smiled softly. “Well, I’m going to try to get something to eat and attempt to take a shower, I’ll see you guys later. Tell Maria when she wakes up I’ll meet her back here in a couple of hours.” you walked backward and then waved at the two of them before you began walking to the cafeteria building.

You passed the medical tent and heard your name being called gently by a small voice. You stopped and looked around before spotting Azzami waving towards you, beckoning you to come to him.

You walked over to his cot and smiled “Hey there, how are you?” you asked him in Dari.

He gently smiled, “I’m a little sore.” he said in English. “Can I have some water?”

You nodded and grabbed him a small cup of water, helping him sip from it, “You speak English pretty good.. better than my Dari, I’m sure”

He softly nodded and chuckled, “You aren’t bad. You’re new. You will learn more.”

You softly looked at him and smiled “Will you teach me more?”

He nodded and then reached for your hand, gripping it tightly “Will you stay with me a little longer?”

“Of course. Of course, I’ll stay a little longer.” you knelt next to his cot and spent the next hour telling him where you were from, how you and Maria were bunkies, and if he ever needed anything, you would help. He shared that he was pretty much an orphan and explained that he wasn’t from this village, he fled here from a nearby village that was taken by the enemy as a base for their operation. You explained that you and he would stick together, that he had a place as long as you were here. You’d keep him safe.

He fell back asleep from exhaustion. You made sure his IV drip looked good and the wound was still clean and then left to go to the cafe.

You grabbed a bowl of rice and beans, ate that to yourself quickly, and then went to take a shower.

Once you felt full and refreshed you went back to your and Maria’s quarters to grab your notebook and pen you wrote letters in and some Polaroid pictures you had taken here and there since being there to send Joel.

Maria had snuck some candid photos for you when you weren’t looking over the past couple of weeks. Either when you were taking care of a patient or goofing off. She even got one of you smiling and laughing at one of Reggie’s jokes. When she showed you, you knew that Joel might like that one most. You also got a group photo of the four of you which you all were in a circle, with the camera in the middle all making a goofy face, but all you could do was smile happily while everyone else made a face.

You sat back down next to Azzami’s cot, knowing that he found comfort in having you near him.

You put Joel’s address and your new return address on the envelope, then stuck the photos in, tucking the envelope under your thigh so the wind wouldn’t blow it away as there was a gentle breeze today.

You began writing:

‘Joel, June 20, 2004

I don’t think it would be right to start this letter off without thanking you for the beautiful, sincere and thoughtful gifts you sent in the first parcel. I’m wearing your pendant now, and have already felt so much lighter with it on. I also feel like I’ve somewhat got a part of you with me, that might sound silly, but it brings me such comfort.

You’ve been such a comfort in my life these last several weeks. I hope you know that.

And you’re right, I have you, and you have me <3

You panicked just a little thinking that was too forward, too honest, but then remembered things he said in his last letter and if you could say those things effortlessly, you could too without fear of rejection.

We will have to thank Sarah for your photos, but we will have to thank Maria for mine. The Polaroid intimidates me a little too, but now that I’ve got my disposable - thank you again for that, you’ll be getting that sent back in no time. I can’t wait to start taking photos for you to see. :)

Speaking of Sarah, I’m sorry to hear about the circumstances of her mother. I know that must’ve been hard on you when it happened, but then I’m sure it’s also had some effect on Sarah. Just know that Sarah is lucky to have you as her dad. Her mom missed out on a really neat kid, she seems pretty amazing.

Your grandad sounds like a very special person and I am grateful you had a father figure like that in your and your brother's life. I know that any positive influence when you lack it somewhere, means the world. You had your granddad, I had my Levi. We were both very blessed to have both of them shape us into who we are today. <3

Oh, the name Cricket... I uh… I don’t chirp in my sleep, thank goodness. But Levi said that I used to rub my legs together under the sheets when I would get really warm and cozy… like a cricket he said, and never called me anything else after that. I have a small cricket tattoo… for Levi. To remember him by. <3

You mentioned Oregon and the whales. That sounds so cool, and I’d love to go! I’ve never been to Oregon or traveled much other than when I moved to GA, so that would be fun. Maybe on a school break of Sarah’s… we could all do a small road trip together? Would she like that?

You mentioned you are going to make a rocking chair, I am very excited to see your skills and the progress along the way! I love to watch people work with their hands - it’ll be very cool to watch you work. :) I think in terms of design, a bow would be cute for a little girl! Or a butterfly would be pretty too? You choose! Bow or butterfly <3

I also wanted to let you know that I did send a postcard when I got here, I have no idea if it got out tho, I didn’t get your letters until yesterday. The village I am in was pretty much an active war zone for the last two weeks, and from what we know mail wasn’t allowed in, but I’m hoping mine made it out as I put it to send the morning before everything went to shit.

Anyway, I’ve got to go, my shift is about to start soon, sadly or I’d write more.. but, I wanted to ask, wou-

You stopped writing and took a deep breath, fiddling with the pen against the paper. Rubbing the bridge of your nose, looking at the sentence you want to finish when anxiety starts to bubble up from the depths you’ve tried to shove it down to. You didn’t want to get hurt or overstep.

You hoped this wasn’t one-sided. Was he just socially awkward? Maybe? Maybe more shy than anything. But so were you. This couldn’t be just you, right? He has said things and has done things to show you that he wants more. The annoying thought came into your head, were you reading too much into it? Did you mistake kindness for something deeper? Were you that lonely, that deprived of love? As quickly as the thought came in to haunt you, it disappeared as you subconsciously reached up and grabbed the pendant in your fist, all the anxiety and fears dissolving.

You closed your eyes and smiled softly as you took in a breath through your nose, out through your mouth.

You opened your eyes and looked back at the paper finishing your sentence:

Anyway, I’ve got to go, my shift is about to start soon, sadly or I’d write more.. but, I wanted to ask, would you like to Skype each other in addition to our letters? If so, my email to reach me is [email protected] - I look forward to hopefully hearing from you there <3

Warmest regards,

Y/N

P.S. Cowboys lost 21-7 to the Vikings on Sunday… you were saying whose team was better?? ;)'

You chuckled and knew that football between you two would be a fun disagreement. You then folded the letter into thirds and stuck it in the envelope.

Azzami was still fast asleep so before your shift started, you ran your letter to the post center to be mailed back as soon as possible.

—

5 days later

While Azzami recovered, and when you weren’t actively working, you sat with him and kept him company. You both bonded very quickly and looked out for each other.

He started to call you ‘khahar’, which meant sister in Dari, and you would call him ‘Z’ as he wanted a cool nickname after learning Reginald’s name was shortened to Reggie, he was obsessed with shortening his to something cooler, and easier for the soldiers to pronounce.

You filled your disposable camera almost up in that time, taking photos of the sunrises and sunsets, selfies of Z and you, and photos of the group playing games with the children of the village in your free time. You also took a lot of pictures of stray dogs and cats around the village which was your favorite thing to do aside from hanging out with Z.

He taught you and Maria how to make fishtail bracelets, making one for himself, Maria, and you, which you all wore proudly together. One night you stayed up late and made a purple and pink one for Sarah and a dark green and navy blue one for Joel then sent it off early the next morning with a postcard in the parcel saying:

‘Joel, 6/27/04

Z is a boy in the village that we take care of, and he taught Maria and me how to make these- I was thinking… I am wearing your necklace, and have a piece of you with me, you can wear this and have a part of me with you :)

Made Sarah one too, hope the colors are to her liking as well as yours <3

Hope you and Sarah are well,

-Y/N’

You woke up the next morning to Terrance and Maria suiting up, getting into what you called your field gear. Anxiety shot through you “What’s going on?” you questioned standing up and beginning to put your boots on.

“Field assignment. Sarge just came by with orders. Things are bad 10 miles south, they need more medics.” Terrance said, nervousness evident in his voice.

“Shit… do we know for how long?” you looked around trying to find your things somewhat frantically. “Wait, does Z know?” you started changing into your field gear and packing what you needed.

Maria shook her head, “No we just found out maybe 5 minutes before you woke up. Reggie went to find him. No idea how long we will be gone either.”

Within a few minutes, you hear Z calling out ‘khahar’, “What’s going on? Reggie said you’re leaving…” he said with tears in his eyes, without the four of you there, he was pretty much on his own.

You sat him down on the bed and took his hands “We will be back, I promise, ok? This is only temporary..”

He nodded “But what if..” he looked at you sadly.

You shook your head and hugged him tightly “No, that won’t happen. We are going to have each other’s backs..” you pulled away from him and looked at the group, “Right guys?”

They all nodded and came over to pat his head or nudge him supportively.

You looked at him and kissed his forehead, “Hey, we will be back Z, ok? I promise.” you pulled back to look him in the eyes, “Stay by the camp, everyone knows you here, they’ll let you stay here if you want.” You gripped his head gently in your hands, continuing eye contact, “And Z, you do not leave or go past the south gate for any reason. If anything happens while we are gone, you hide and stay quiet. Understand?”

He nodded “I understand. I will be good. I will be safe.” he smiled sadly.

You nodded back and then kissed the top of his head. “Good. We will be back soon.” you got up and grabbed your stuff then left the bunkhouse.

—

You were all flown in by helicopter to a barren field outside a village south of camp.

Two minutes before landing the pilot came onto your headsets “Alright this is going to be a drop-off, you all need to grab your bags and then when I give the signal, you need to get off as quickly as you can and head for cover! Understood!?”

You looked at Maria, she looked at you and then Reggie and Terrance, “We need to stick together, keep moving and find cover. We don’t leave anyone behind, yeah?” you all nodded and then braced as the pilot made a sharp turn.

“Get ready!” he shouted and aimed the aircraft as close to the ground as possible, you dropped a rope out for you all to slide down.

“I’ll go first! Make sure it's clear!” you shouted, putting your bag over your shoulder and picking up the assault rifle you now had to carry. Each person nodded in agreement.

“Now!” the pilot shouted through the comms system. You ripped the headset off quickly, letting it dangle from the ceiling before grabbing the rope and sliding down, taking cover and pulling your assault rifle's scope out immediately to check for any threats.

Your breathing was heavy and your mind was going a million miles a minute. You did a 360 turn in a circle to scope the area then looked up and signaled it was clear with your hand. Reggie slid down next, followed by Terrance, and then Maria last. Once you all touched down the helicopter immediately turned to fly away. You all crept down and began to run as quickly as you could to a nearby building to take cover. Just as you were about 50 feet away you heard a distant yell “Take cover!” you all froze and dropped to the ground, covering your heads and staying as close as you could to each other.

Within seconds an explosion went off about 100 yards away from you. You lifted your head to look around, ears ringing and dust starting to cloud the view from behind you. You looked around frantically, then spotted a clear path to where your camp location was marked. You looked around once more then stood up “We gotta move, come on!” you encouraged the group. They all stood up and followed you. You all had one hand on your guns and then ran in a line with a hand on someone’s shoulder, keeping you all together.

You heard gunshots and immediately pulled your gun’s scope to view, ready to shoot if necessary as you all kept walking through the camp that had now been from what you can tell abandoned or moved, the location you were given prior, no use.

“Shit..” Maria said under her breath.

You looked back at her then Terrance, “Terrance, radio in, see if anyone answers.”

He nodded and pulled out the radio your group was given before departing, turning to the channel designated for this area. “Delta 34, this is Specialist Johanson, touch down was made via helicopter for emergency medical attention, does anyone copy?”

You all waited for what seemed like minutes before you heard “This is Delta 34, we need help!” The radio stopped and there was a brief moment of static. You all heard an explosion in the distance before the person came back on the radio, “We are 500 yards southeast to the main village entrance.”

You looked back from where you came from and then found southeast and pointed before looking at the group, “Ok we need to go in groups of two, we are too big of a target if we go all together.” you looked around, thinking, trying to think what was best.

“Maria, go with Reggie, follow me and Terrance.” you looked at Terrence, he looked terrified. None of you had been in a combat or active warzone like this yet, you hadn’t even shot your guns outside boot camp.

“How far behind?” Reggie asked.

“I don’t know, maybe 100 yards? Enough to where if either of our groups gets shot at, the other has time to react and cover the other.” you looked at Maria for a suggestion.

“100 yards. We will have your backs.” Maria nodded at you.

You nodded back and straightened your rifle’s strap across you and then let out a deep sigh, “Ok, the faster we get to cover, the safer we are. Let’s take our time, and be safe, but aim for speed. Sound good?” you looked at the others.

Terrence wasn’t with you, he zoned out.

You put your hand to his cheek, “Hey, come back to us. I need you to focus.”

He snapped out of where he was and nodded, panic still in his eyes and features.

“You got this.” you nudged him softly and then started walking, rifle pointed straight forward, finger on the trigger. He followed you looking above and to the sides of you. Maria and Reggie followed.

You got to the center of the camp within 15 minutes, you were only shot at once, it grazed the top of your helmet, Maria zoned in seeing where it had come from, and shot the assailant down.

Once there, it was pure chaos. There were bodies and people everywhere, scattered, injuries ranging in severity. You all froze taking in the sight, processing the mess, and then the four of you all snapped out of it at the same time and split up, doing what you all do best, working together to create a system.

Maria worked on triaging, putting chalk on the bottom of their boot to signal priority, red for emergency, yellow for next in line, green for lowest priority, and white for dead.

Terrence went to gather supplies.

Reggie used the camp's bigger radio and called a nearby camp to ask for further assistance and backup, advising an airstrike may be best for the northeast area as that is where most of the wounded are coming from.

You immediately started working on the red patients.

After 15 minutes of working, you have gunfire within a few hundred yards of you. Instinctually, you lean over your patient to cover them, shouting “Take cover!”

After a few seconds of silence, you looked up to make sure everyone was ok, counting heads, when you realized you couldn’t find Terrance.

“Shit.” You frantically start scanning the area, “Terrance!” you yell, Maria looks your way, realizing, worry registered on her face as well. You had your hands on an actively bleeding wound, you started to pack it with gauze as you kept looking around, shouting his name. You pack the wound and then walk away, looking at Maria “Cot 3, take over!” she nodded and headed over. You continued to walk towards where you last saw Terrence go, and that's when you saw him.

He had been shot in his upper leg, and was on the ground 50 yards away, leaning up against a car, bleeding, fumbling to cover his wound with his hands, breathing panicked, he was clearly in shock, supplies he was gathering scattered around him.

“Fuck… Fuck!” you immediately ran in his direction, not even thinking of there being gunfire potentially aimed at you. “Terrence!”

He looked your way and then saw something behind you, “Get down!” he yelled. You dropped and covered behind a car across the street from him, a grenade went off and created the perfect dust cover for you to make it to him.

You crouch and run to him, sliding in front of him.

His leg is gushing blood, you know just by that it’s most likely nicked the femoral artery. You look up at him, he’s crying, “I don’t wanna die! Please, I don’t want to die!” he yelled, pleading.

You look around for what supplies you have then start to unbuckle your belt. “You’re not going to die. You will not die...”

You snaked your belt above the injury and started to tunicate his leg, pulling the belt as tight as you could. “You still got that radio on you?”

He nodded and pulled it out from behind him, handing it to you, his hands shaking.

You turned it on a different channel, “Alpha 326 this is Specialist ____ with Delta 34, do you copy?”

“We copy.” a voice came almost immediately.

“I need an immediate air strike to the following coordinates…” you pulled out your GPS locator, “34.713911, 69.239214. I have a critical patient and myself in the field and we need immediate assistance to get him to safety.”

You heard static for a few seconds then, “Copy that, air strike 60 seconds out.”

You looked at Terrance and then clipped the radio to the back of your pants. “I’m going to pick you up when that strike happens but I need you to calm down.” You started to pack gauze into his wound, making him groan and breathe faster and heavier.

“Terrance, I need you to breathe… breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth.” You said taking one of his hands. “I am going to get us out of here, but I need you to take some deep breaths.”

He nodded and took a slow breath in through his nose and then exhaled out from his mouth.

You nodded, “Good. One more.”

He nodded and did it again.

You smiled softly, “I got us.”

He nodded “You got us..”

You looked up at the sky and saw a fighter jet make its way. You peeked your head out from the car and saw where you needed to go, noting someone in the building to your left with a gun pointed at your position. You moved your head back down to hide, grabbed your pendant in your fist, and closed your eyes for a second, taking in a breath, praying, hoping, ‘Please protect us, please don’t let us die.’

You opened your eyes and looked at him, zoned in, “Ok. Ready?” you grabbed your pistol on the side of your hip and popped up, firing 3 rounds at the gunman pointing at you, disarming him. You got back down, putting your gun away quickly, “On three…”

He nodded, you both counted down and then you grabbed his left arm and right leg and swung him over your shoulder like they showed you in basic.

“Fuck you’re heavier than you were in basic, what the fuck man..” you strained as his full weight was on you, but then you started to jog towards the exit, the fighter jet releasing rounds into the buildings around you as soon as you stood, taking out the threats.

Once inside safety, you got Terrance to a medical cot and Maria took over and tended to him while Reggie checked you out for any injuries.

After being cleared you jumped in like nothing happened, thinking ‘The faster we get done here, the faster I’m back to camp, with Z and Joel…’

—

This went on for another 8 days.

12 deaths.

46 injured.

Once the area was cleared, you helped Terrance and the other critical patients on a medical plane, going to a hospital in the city for care. It turned out that his injury was more severe than you and your crew could take care of in the field, got infected too, and without more intervention, there was a high chance he’d lose his leg.

Maria and Reggie had already said goodbye and left back to camp.

You took his hand, letting out a soft sigh, “You’re most likely going home, which is good, we want you safe and not to lose your leg… but we will miss you all terribly.” you smiled softly. “Z won’t forgive you if you don’t write to him, m’kay?”

Terrence chuckled and nodded, “I’ll write and once I am able, I’ll Skype.”

You nodded and then smiled once more, patting his shoulder softly, “I’ll see you.”

He nodded back, “Yes you will.”

You stepped off the plane and headed back to the camp to gather your things. The rest of you were headed back to camp, you hoped to come back to maybe hear from Joel. You needed that more than anything right now.

Joel’s POV

Joel hadn’t heard from you in nearly three weeks. He wondered if you were safe. He wasn’t a religious man by any means, but couldn’t help and say small prayers for your safety here and there when his mind got too loud.

He often found himself holding onto your picture, especially moments when his anxiety took hold.

‘She’s safe, she just has a very busy job.’ he would repeat to himself when he’d see, read or hear something on the news about the war. He told himself that once he got your letters he would find the location on a map and then pay more closely to that area in the news.

He kept telling himself that letters take time, there was no need to worry, right?

—

July 2, 2004

Sarah had a soccer tournament out of town this weekend. Tommy and Sarah convinced Joel to make it into a Fourth of July weekend getaway and they could take Tommy’s boat to Canyon Lake which was just a half hour from where they were staying.

Sarah could tell Joel was feeling anxious as she also picked up how long it had been since a letter of yours came in the mail. She noticed her dad checking the mailbox every morning before he would hop in his truck, hopeful something would be there, then the look of sadness and disappointment when the mail contained nothing but bills and advertisements.

Tommy came over early, and Joel was upstairs packing his bag. Sarah and he packed a cooler together for the drive.

“Can I ask you somethin’ sweet pea?” Tommy looked at Sarah as he began to spread mayo on some sandwich bread.

Sarah nodded as she was filling some Ziplock baggies with some chips.

“What’s going on with your dad? He seems distant lately, on top of that he’s gone out to that mailbox 3 times already this morning…” he began putting lunch meat and cheese on the bread.

Sarah looked towards the stairs and sighed softly, “Yeah, a lot is on his mind, I think.” she walked over and sat on the counter next to Tommy, “He and I are doing this pen pal thing together. His person is currently deployed in Afghanistan, she’s a medic.” she helped squirt some spicy mustard on the cheese before Tommy put the other half of the bread on top, she continued, “I think dad likes her, you know like likes her…” she hopped off the counter to begin putting the used ingredients back in the fridge. “He hasn’t heard from her in, I think 3 weeks. I think he’s worried something happened to her.”

Tommy perked up when he heard Joel was doing a pen pal program, but then after he heard it was to a woman in Afghanistan he was more intrigued. “Wait wait… you guys are doing that pen pal program too?”

Sarah spun around, confused about what he said, “Too? As in you’re doing it too?”

Tommy chuckled and nodded, “Yeah, saw a flyer at the local library…” he thought for a second, “Wait, that’s interesting because my pen pal also got deployed to Afghanistan maybe… I don’t remember, the beginning of June? She’s a medic too” he shrugged the thought of them writing two bunk mates off though, the chances of that being so slim.

Sarah’s jaw dropped, and she quickly ran up to him, “Tommy, the person you’re writing... What’s her name?”

He looked confused as he wrapped the sandwiches in cling film, “Maria. Why?”

“Tommy. Does Dad know about you doing this pen pal program, who you’re writing to?” she pressured.

“No, I didn’t think it was worth mentioning, why? What’s going on?” he turned towards her now feeling on the edge of his seat by her line of questioning.

“Tommy… Maria and Y/N are bunkmates…” She grabbed his arm and smiled brightly, “Wait, when did you hear from Maria last?” she looked at him desperately, hoping he had heard from Maria more recently.

Tommy connected the dots in his head, “Oh shit... I see what you’re getting at. I uh, I Skyped her right after she got to camp. We uh… you know exchanged Skype info before she left in case mail couldn’t get out… as that happened to me when I was over there quite often.” He chuckled “Now this all makes sense, she said that they were in a pretty active area, and said mail wasn’t able to get out… it’s possible your dad isn’t getting her mail due to th-” he explained.

“Dad!” Sarah interrupted and shouted running up the stairs towards his bedroom, “Dad!!”

Joel came out of his room looking slightly panicked at Sarah’s shouting, “Sarah? What’s wrong?” he grabbed her face in his hands, studying her eyes.

“Tommy! Get your ass up here!” Sarah took Joel's hands off her softly, giggling excitedly.

“Sarah, language!” Joel scolded her gently.

Tommy jogged up the stairs and smirked when he got to the top, “When were you going to tell me all this sulking was over a woman big brother?”

Joel looked at Tommy confused, “What? I’m not sulki-”

Tommy nodded “Yes you are, like a puppy dog.” he laughed softly, continuing to walk towards Joel and Sarah at the end of the hall.

“Dad, Tommy is writing in the pen pal program too! And guess what?” Sarah began bouncing on her toes, hands cradled up to her chest, beaming.

“Wh-” Joel was cut off.

“He’s writing to Maria! You know, Maria!? From Y/N’s first letter! Uncle Tommy is writing your pal’s literal bunk mate Dad!” Sarah shouted a little louder than she expected.

Joel looked at Tommy, relief cracking through his expression, “Wait.. is this true? I.. I haven’t.. when did you hear from her last?” he looked at Tommy, desperately.

Tommy smiled softly and put his hand on Joel’s shoulder, “They made it to their base camp safely, Maria even mentioned how her friend, Y/N, was getting them dinner when I last spoke to her..”

Joel looked at Tommy, confused now, “Wait you spoke to her, as in like on the phone?”

Tommy shook his head, “No, no, Maria and I exchanged Skype information in our last letter exchange before she got deployed. I knew the chances of mail not making it out if she was in an active combat area were gon’ to be high…” he sighed gently. “I spoke to her via Skype a couple of days after she landed in Afghanistan.” he explained before gently squeezing Joel's shoulder, “She said they pretty much had the village on lockdown.” He gently shook his shoulder, “Your girl tho, she’s safe, she probably just hasn’t got your letters yet. Maria said it had been pretty busy and they hadn’t had much time to barely sleep. We haven’t had the time to Skype again tho since then, but she’s been sending messages letting me know small updates, sending pictures, and stuff like that.” he smiled.

Joel listened to everything, nodding along to Tommy and then letting out a sigh of relief, “Oh, thank god..” he felt his kneels buckle as he felt like this enormous load was immediately lifted off his shoulders, he fell to this knees and held his head in his hands, tears pooling, it was like damn of so much emotion had broken. “I thought… she… the news…” he said with a crack in his voice, voice quivering.

Sarah fell to the ground and hugged him, “Oh Dad, I’m so sorry, I had no idea this was bothering you this much.”

Joel fell into her arms and sobbed softly, “I was worried something happened and she has no one to… she has no one they will alert, all her family is gone.” he looked up at Tommy and Sarah, tears streaking down his face.

Sarah had rarely seen her dad cry, this was a huge emotional marker that you meant more to her dad than she knew. Sarah looked at Joel and softly began wiping the tears from his cheeks, “She’s got you now Dad…” She smiled and kissed his cheek before hugging him again, “It’s ok Dad, everything is ok.”

Joel held her tightly, kissing the top of her head.

Tommy knelt, “Do you want me to message Maria and ask for an update? Just for peace of mind?”

Joel nodded, “Please? You don’t need to mention me or Y/N.. I’ll know if Maria is safe, she is too.”

Tommy nodded, “Can I log into your computer real quick? I can do it before we leave then when we get to our hotel, I can check my laptop… it’s just already packed in the truck or I would message on there.” He smiled at Joel and Sarah.

Joel nodded quickly, “Yeah, the uh password is…”

Tommy stood and interrupted walking back downstairs, “I know the damn password Joel, CubsSux123!”

Joel chuckled and thought to himself, ‘I need to change that…’ thinking back to when you said you were a Cubs fan.

—

Tommy messaged Maria on chat quickly and then within 20 minutes they had all left for their destination.

When they got to the hotel the first thing Joel did after unloading their bags into their room was stand and look at Tommy with his hand on his hip and knee popped out, asking if he had heard from Maria.

Tommy chuckled, loving seeing his brother like this, obviously crushing hard on you. He hadn’t seen him like this since they were maybe in high school.

Tommy got a message from Maria:

‘Thanks for checkin’ in! We have been on a field assignment for the past 6 days. It’s been crazy, we had someone get hit on the first day while going to get supplies, he’s ok for now, but Y/N had to go into a hot area to pull him out. Luckily she called for an air strike to cover her while she carried him back, it was a crazy first day. Things are starting to slow down, we think we might be back at the main camp in a couple of days. I’ll let you know when we get back, we can Skype. xx’

Joel must’ve read that message about 20 times, smiling that you were safe but was going to need to talk to you about putting yourself in dangerous situations, he chuckled to himself, ‘Can’t get herself hurt before we get the chance to meet each other…’ he thought to himself as he read.

He stepped out on the hotel’s balcony while Sarah and Tommy watched ‘Keeping Up with the Kardashians’ while eating some pizza they ordered, holding the picture of you he had taken with from his back pocket, ‘She’s ok. She is safe.’ he mumbled to himself looking down at the photo.

He had it bad for you and began to regret not asking to Skype in his last letter. All he wanted right now would be to hear your voice, to know in real-time how you were, how your day was, to hold an actual conversation with you.

God, he wondered how you sounded, how your laugh sounded when you laughed at his jokes that he tried to slide into his writing, he couldn’t wait to hear it. He was counting down the days until he was back home, he hoped by then he would have something from you.

The next few days for Joel were much needed, especially now that he knew you were ok. It felt like he could breathe again.

It felt like he was suffocating every time he heard or saw something on the news concerning the war, not knowing where you were or if you were ok. It also didn’t help that he kept it all to himself; self-isolating was something he did in moments of anxiety or depression, and always regretted it afterward. He seems to always forget in those moments that Tommy and Sarah would move heaven and earth for him, they’d always have his back.

Tommy and Sarah noticed the immediate shift in him, and both discussed when he wasn’t around how nice it was to see him happy about someone. He deserved this after being alone for so long.

Sarah played in a tournament for most of Friday, playing in a total of 4 games. Joel took pictures on his phone and some videos, cheering loudly for her, he was so proud. Sarah scored 2 goals and helped her team win 2nd place.

He beamed with pride when her team was awarded a smaller trophy cup than first place, but still pretty big, taking as many photos as he could on his phone.

She ran over to Tommy and Joel with the trophy “I wanna get a picture with it and also with you and Tommy!” she smiled panting softly, out of breath from running.

Joel pulled out his phone again, taking a photo of just her, one with her and Tommy, then Sarah took a selfie with the three of them and then Tommy took Joel's phone and took one of just Sarah and Joel smiling and then another of Joel kissing the top of her head while she smiled.

The three of them went out to dinner and Sarah chose where to go, which was a nearby dinner. They spent time planning their day on the lake tomorrow and then all got back to the hotel room and started to gather their things for the boat tomorrow.

Tommy sat down on the bed and pulled out his laptop while Joel worked on something work-related on his at the desk. Sarah was in the bathroom taking a shower before they’d all get into bed.

Tommy saw that Maria had messaged him on Skype:

‘We will be going back to base camp tomorrow afternoon after we load the medical evac plane, wanna Skype when I get back? xx’

“Maria messaged me a few hours ago, and said they are headed back to base camp tomorrow.”

Joel turned in his chair to face Tommy, “Can you do that from the lake?” he asked curiously.

Tommy chuckled, “No, but they are about 10 hours ahead of us so by the time we are done at the lake and back here, they’ll be just waking up. I’ll let Maria know I’ll Skype her around 10 pm, and let her know we will be on the lake. She said they are usually up at 5 am, so that’s perfect.” he smiled as he typed his reply back.

He typed back to Maria, ‘Sounds good, thank you for the update. My brother, niece and I are out of town for the weekend, mind if we Skype around 6 am your time, 10 pm mine? We will be on the lake most of the day or I’d do sooner.’

“Thanks for all you’ve done Tommy to keep me… sane.” Joel chuckled lightly, turning back around to face his laptop.

Tommy nodded and smiled at his brother “Anytime.”

—

The three of them spend the better part of the next day on the lake. Swimming, water skiing (or attempting, the only one that could stand up was Sarah), eating, and enjoying the weather.

Sarah took tons of pictures and some for Joel to send in his next letter to you.

Joel’s mind kept drifting to you throughout the day, thinking how it might be if you were tagging along with them. His thoughts dared to wonder as to how you’d look in a bathing suit. How it would hug your curves and how irresistible you’d look.

He took the opportunity while Tommy and Sarah were taking a cat nap on the boat to float in the water and cool off a bit. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the life vest he had on.

After a little bit, his mind started to drift and he started to imagine holding you against him in the water, having your legs wrap around his torso, arms draped around his shoulders loosely. His hands would slowly and ever so gently explore up and down your body, gripping the soft flesh of your hips as he would devour you, hungrily and passionately, lips crashing over each other, tongues intertwining, both of you starving for each other.

“Hey, you wanna start cookin’ up dinner with me?” Tommy called out to Joel from the boat.

Joel’s eyes snapped open and he jumped at hearing Tommy, out of breath from his thoughts. He groaned feeling himself hard against his swim shorts “Fuck…” he moved a hand down to palm himself.

He shut his eyes and let out a shaky breath, thinking of anything to make this go away, but all his mind did was flood with you, your body, your essence, just making him harder.

“Joel? You hear me?” Tommy questioned not hearing his brother answer back.

“I uhm… y-yeah just give me a sec.” Joel let go of himself and started to slowly swim back to the boat, still rock hard.

Tommy looked down at him, “Need a towel?” he smiled, oblivious to the situation Joel was in.

Joel nodded, trying to keep his cool, “Yeah, yes please.”

Tommy put a towel on the edge for Joel and then as Tommy turned to walk away, he took his opportunity to quickly get out of the water and wrap the towel around his waist. He took the life vest off and set it down then started to walk towards the small cabin area where there was a tiny bathroom. “I’ll be right back.” he rushed inside and shut the door.

He undid the towel and looked down at his pants, nothing, no change, cock still straining against his pants, “God damn it, Joel.” he cursed himself.

He put a hand on the sink and closed his eyes, he felt dirty for what his mind suggested he do to relieve the obvious bulge.

He shook his head and whispered, “I can’t, no, that’s… no.” he let out a shaky breath, trying to calm himself down.

He gripped the sink with the other hand and closed his eyes, trying to focus on something else however flashes of you swarmed his vision. Thoughts of you up against this sink, moaning his name as he sunk deep into you, gripping his shoulders and begging for him to keep going.

He opened his eyes slightly, breathing heavily, and moved his right hand down to untie his trunks and pull his cock out, spitting into his palm he start stroking it, making it as wet as it can. He closes his eyes and whimpers as he keeps a steady rhythm on himself, imagining your legs wrapping around him, his lips feverishly worshiping your soft skin. Making marks on your breasts, neck, shoulders, anything he can touch while gripping his hands tightly around your waist, making you rhythmically stroke and down his cock, gripping him oh so sweetly. He wishes he could taste your lips, how he would drink in every moment he could touch his lips to yours. He would whisper sweet nothings against your lips and into your skin as he prayed to whatever was above to never let this burning desire in his soul for you extinguish.

He felt his knees give out and a coil begins to tighten deep within. “Fuck me…” he whispered as he knew he was close, he began picking up the pace.

He imagined how you might cum against his cock? Back arched, breasts bouncing, nipples perked, and pressed against his chest? Legs quivering, eyes rolling back, fingers tangled in his hair, jaw slacked while you moaned how good he felt inside your sweet tight pussy?

That did it.

He grunted and let out a quiet cry “Oh f-fuck fuck…” as he came harder than he ever had by himself, breath shaky and weak.

He grunted once more as he was slowing down his hand, he felt a small tug again as another rope of cum shot out from over-sensitivity.

His legs buckled and he fell to sit on top of the toilet.

He looked at himself in the mirror, his cheeks were rosy red, looking like he was slightly drunk. All he could was chuckle at himself and cover his face with his left hand, “I’m so fucked…” he admitted.

He cleaned himself up quickly and ‘flushed’ the toilet, just for added detail that he was ‘using’ the bathroom. He looked back at himself in the mirror before exiting the bathroom and mumbled to himself “I’m such a sick fuck…” he chuckled again and then went to join Tommy to cook.

The three of them watched fireworks on the lake together. Around 8 pm they packed up and drove back to the hotel.

By the time they made it back to the hotel, it was just past 9 pm. Sarah fell asleep in the car, Joel carried her inside and put her to bed, tucking her in and kissing her head.

Tommy sat on the bed and turned the TV on quietly, putting on the sports channel.

“Hey I’m going to take a shower, you good keeping an eye on Sarah?”

“Yeah, go ahead, I’ll just be sitting here for a bit.” he smiled his way before turning back to the TV.

Joel had completely forgotten Tommy was going to Skype Maria so a half hour later when he heard a woman’s voice coming from the room, Joel peeked out from the door, confused with a towel around his waist and hair all crazy from the shower.

“Yeah, it’s been a crazy week for us! But it was nice to get back when we did, we made it back just in time for the camp’s 4th of July celebration.” Maria said through the computer.

“Oh, that’s nice! What did you guys have to barbeque there? I remember we did Spam and potatoes one year! Wasn’t so bad…” Tommy chuckled before looking up and seeing Joel peek at him, he mouthed and pointed to the laptop ‘Maria..’

Joel heard Maria laugh softly and then it clicked, he might hear you in the background. He excitedly stumbled to get dressed, knocking things over in the background.

Maria heard what sounded like a bull in a china shop in the background, she stopped mid-sentence, “Is everything ok over there?” she smiled.

Tommy chuckled knowing exactly why Joel was being so clumsy, but he didn’t want to give anything away to Maria in case Joel didn’t want anyone to know your and his relationship. “Yeah it's just my brother, he’s in the bathroom, he must’ve knocked something over, sorry..” he chuckled. “You were saying?”

Joel came out with his hair slicked back and a shirt and pajama pants on. He sat at the office chair and opened up his laptop, attempting to eavesdrop without being too noticeable, thinking Tommy had no idea that he had a major fat crush on you.

He heard Maria talk about someone named ‘Z’ and how you and her were going to teach him how to play baseball with a few other boys in the village tomorrow.

He heard a door open and a kid laughing along with someone else and then a pause, followed by a shocked gasp and then a voice, your voice, “Oh my god! Maria! Have you been Skyping Reginald- I mean Tommy, fuck sorry, and you didn’t tell me!!?” you said at Maria. Joel immediately flipped around towards Tommy.

Tommy looked up at Joel from the camera.

Maria had turned a bright shade of red immediately and stood up to shove you back out of the room, “God you are so annoying! Get out!”

You giggled, pushing back against her, fighting to stay in the room, Z laughing as well trying to help you push against her, “Oh come on, I am delightful Maria! I just wanna say hi!” you waved in the distance to the camera, “Hi Tommy! I’m the lovely, awesome, never annoying at all roommate that I am sure Maria has said soo many good things about!” you giggled and grunted as Maria pushed against you harder, “Good god Maria you are like a fucking linebacker, shit you're strong!”

Joel smiled brightly hearing your voice, slowly moving to sit on the edge of the bed to listen closer.

Maria managed to push you out of the doorway, fueled by embarrassment, but before she could close the door, Tommy saw you wave again and shout “I bid you adieu, good sir!” Z yelled as well and waved “Adieu Mr. Tommy!” you let out a loud laugh at Z’s statement, “Good one Z!”

Tommy let out a chuckle, “Bye Y/N and Z, it was nice to meet you!”

Maria shut the door and took a breath then came back over to the screen. “Sorry about that, she’s never going to let me live that down.” she covered her face.

Tommy chuckled, “Didn’t tell her you were Skypin’ me? Ouch…” he teased.

Maria smiled and chuckled “No no, nothing like that! I was waiting til she started to maybe Skype with her guy. Didn’t want to make her feel like she was behind in some way, you know?” she chuckled, “Plus she’s got a major crush on the guy, and I think he has one on her…” she said in lower tone then went back to her normal voice, “I was going to wait for her letter to get back to him, which includes her asking him if he’d want to Skype and it has her info, but that won’t be for maybe another couple of days or so as I’m sure he hasn’t gotten her letter yet as she sent it right before we left for that field assignment.”

Joel looked at Tommy and Tommy looked at Joel, both frozen by the news Maria just accidentally spilled. Joel turned bright red and smiled so hard his cheeks started to hurt.

Maria noticed the energy shift, “You ok Tommy?” she asked softly.

Joel signaled for him to keep quiet frantically, using the lips-sealed sign, smiling like a fucking idiot, not to tell her anything, Tommy just smiled and looked back down at Maria on the screen, “Yeah, yeah, sorry I just thought I woke up my niece, but we’re good.”

Joel got off the bed and paced the room a few times, trying not to make much noise when all he wanted to do was yell and shout for joy.

You had a major crush on him. Holy fuck, you had a major crush on him.

Tommy and Maria talked for another 15 minutes before Maria had to go as her shift started soon and she needed to do a few things beforehand like ‘knock you across the head’ for earlier she joked.

As soon as Tommy closed the laptop Joel whispered in an attempt to not wake Sarah, frantically, “What the fuck man, what the fuck, did I hear that right?” he came over to Tommy who stood up to get ready for bed, smiling at his brother's obvious excitement that a girl liked him just as much as he liked her.

“You heard her right, Joel.” he chuckled and then hissed as Joel excitedly started punching and slapping his arm. “Fuck Joel calm down!” he moved away from his brother’s over-excitement and smiled at him, he hadn’t seen Joel this happy in a very very long time, and it was all because of you.

Joel may have woken everyone up at 7 am to leave to get home.

Joel may have also sped 15 miles over the speed limit and got a ticket trying to get home, praying your letters were in their mailbox.

Emphasis on the may have, right? No, it all happened and neither Sarah nor Tommy said a damn thing because regardless of the grumpy attitudes they both had from being woken up that early, and the $200 speeding ticket, he was still beaming the whole drive home, even singing along to the radio. Yeah, even Sarah was shocked by that, considering it was her playlist and a good amount of Taylor Swift was on there.

Joel pulled into the driveway and practically leaped out of the damn truck on his way to the mailbox.

Sarah and Tommy leaned against the truck, arms folded, chuckling together as they watched him. Tommy updated Sarah on the events of last night when Joel ran into a gas station to use the bathroom that they were both were convinced he broke some record by how fast he was in and out.

He pulled out the pile of mail from the mailbox and immediately sat on the curb to sort through it.

Sarah laughed “Oh my god, Dad! Come on, get inside and do that, the neighbors will see!” she teased.

“Shh!” he chuckled and continued to sort, “Bill, bill, bill, coupon, scam, bill, scam, bill, another bill…” Then he saw it, your name, on not one, but two envelopes. He’s never been so damn happy to get mail in his whole goddamn life.

“Anything Dad?” Sarah asked, starting to walk over, worried nothing was in there as he stopped sorting and was quiet all of a sudden.

He sprang up from the curb, “Fuckin’ finally!” he yelled and held the letters up in the air.

Sarah chuckled, “Anything for me?”

Joel looked down at the pile and saw the next envelope was from Sam, he wrote back Sarah. He picked up the rest of the pile under his arm, walked over, and kissed her cheek, “Yeah, Sam wrote ya baby girl.” he handed her the letter.

She smiled and looked up at him, “Looks like it’s a good mail day, eh Dad?” she took his arm and started to walk inside with him.

“You bet it is sweet pea.”

—

Tommy started making them something for lunch while Joel and Sarah read their letters, knowing they both were too excited and weren’t going to do anything but that for the foreseeable future, but knew they were all going to be hungry.

Joel opened the letter that felt like something was in it first and smiled at the bracelets you sent, giving Sarah hers and asking Sarah to tie his on for him.

He smiled reading your postcard, realizing who Z was now, and connected that was whose voice he also heard on the call with Maria. He smiled warmly and softly blushed when you referred to the necklace as having a piece of him. He looked at his wrist that now had the watch Sarah fixed for his last birthday and your two bracelets, it had a reminder of the two most important women in his life. That made his heart soar.

He then pulled out the letter you sent that had numerous photographs and he couldn’t help his dorky smile as he looked at each one.

‘She’s so damn beautiful..’ he thought to himself looking at the candid Maria took of you laughing and smiling at Reggie’s joke. He felt his heart beat hard and steady as he looked at each photo. He couldn’t wait to see your face more, and your voice. Now that he knew both, he knew being in your presence - when he would eventually move mountains and heavens to be with you - he would be intoxicated by you. He could never tire of you, he knew he wanted you in his life, for the rest of his life.

He had convinced himself it was silly when that thought first came into his head last night when he heard your voice, blowing it off to just pure excitement but then here it is again.

His grandfather always told him that time didn’t always matter, sometimes, when you know, you just know.

He knew it was it with you.

He hadn’t felt this with anyone else in his lifetime, not even his first love, Sarah’s mom, it was never this strong, this… simple.

Sarah looked up from her letter and watched him for a moment, she smiled, her dad finally was going to be happy, she knew that for certain now, that was a comfort no one could give her so easily, but you did.

She stood up from the table and came over and kissed her dad on the head softly, “I’m going to go take a shower because someone ran us out of the hotel this morning…” she gently nudged her dad chuckling.

He looked at her and smiled, “Ok baby girl…” and that's when she saw it in his eyes, he was utterly and completely happy.

“I’m happy you’re happy Dad. I know you make her happy too.” she softly said before walking upstairs to the bathroom.

He smiled warmly and watched her walk away, out of the corner of his eye he saw Tommy smirking. “Oh, brother you got it bad.” Tommy teased.

Normally Joel would say some smart-ass comment back but right now, he just couldn’t care, he did have it bad.

He smiled and nodded, “Yes I do, little brother, yes I do.” he looked back down and pulled out your letter to read. He heard Tommy chuckle and then he put a plate next to Joel with some toast, spread with smashed avocado, and spicy scrambled eggs on top with some hot sauce.

“I’ll put Sarah’s up in her room and then head out. Tell Y/N I said hello again.” he winked before heading up to Sarah’s room to drop off her food and then leave.

Joel just chuckled at Tommy’s last sentence and ate as he read your letter slowly.

He couldn’t wait to get more pictures from you either, he was looking forward to multiple full disposable cameras to process and look through.

He admired how you empathized with his struggles and pain in regard to Sarah’s mom without being too negative about the experience or not calling her a name or saying something awful. She isn’t Joel’s favorite person, but he’ll always respect her as Sarah’s mother and he could tell you felt the same.

He smiled and warmly read over your kind words about his granddad. He thought, ‘He would have loved you. You’re just like my grandma and mom in a lot of ways, and that’s what he said I always needed, a ‘mujer fuerte e independiente’, strong independent woman.’

He chuckled lightly at the reason for your nickname ‘Cricket’, he thought to himself that he couldn’t wait to hopefully see one day when you and he were in bed together after a long day and you do that little thing with your legs. He’d cherish and adore it, always.

He teared up a little when you brought up doing a road trip with Sarah. You always included her in the conversation, hell you made those bracelets and even made her a pair. She was never an afterthought for you, she was continuously included. That’s all he wanted in a partner, someone to not only love and support him but her as well.

He loved your suggestion of a butterfly for the rocking chair and made a mental note to talk to you more about it and get your opinion on what kind of butterfly and how to position it, he wanted to know your opinion of everything it felt like. He loved having someone to turn to like that, he missed having it for so long.

He beamed at the last paragraph where you asked about Skyping, he looked at the time, ‘4:13 pm’, and then did the math in his head, ‘Shit, it's like 2 am where she is.’ Then he remembered Tommy said that you and Maria get up around 5 am.

He got up from the table and ran upstairs to get his laptop and charger, bringing it back downstairs to the table.

He luckily still had Skype installed from when Tommy was deployed or he would have had to ask Sarah how the hell to reinstall it.

He clicked the icon and then looked at your email on the letter and typed it in, ‘Status: Offline’ he read by your name and picture, in which you had a picture of you most likely before the army, you had your hair down and it looked like it was a selfie, Joel instantly snapped a photocopy of it on his phone shyly.

He typed in the chat section, ‘Morning sweetheart, got your letters, would now be a good time for us to Skype? 🙂’ then clicked send.

He took a deep breath and then walked away from the table, starting to clean up the dishes that Tommy had left in the sink, start the laundry with all the dirty clothes from the weekend, and then started gathering stuff to make dinner when he heard a ‘Ding!’ from his laptop.

He looked at the time, “It’s only been an hour, it can’t be…” he said to himself, confused.

He continued to gather ingredients for dinner, brushing it off as a figment of his imagination.

He heard a second ding and perked up, dropping the bag of noodles he had in his hand and ran into the counter, hitting his knee, in the process of rushing back over to the table “Ow fuck…”

He waved the mouse around to wake up the screen when he saw:

Y/N: Evenin’ cowboy❣️

Y/N: Been going mad waiting for you to get my letters. Of course, it’s a good time! 😀

He grinned, bit his bottom lip, grabbed his laptop and charging cord, and ran upstairs into his bedroom, abandoning his plans to make dinner, he’d tell Sarah to order takeout. As if you saw he was online, he saw ‘Incoming call…’ across his screen with your picture. He jumped on the bed and then laid the laptop down in his lap, clicking ‘Accept.’

Previous chapter - Next chapter

A/N: ahhh i am so very sorry for this cliffhanger, ok maybe not, gotta keep you on your toes hahaha !! thank you so much for reading, i literally poured my heart and soul into this chapter and so far, it’s my favorite (don’t tell the other chapters I said that). please don’t forget to like, reblog, comment, and share with fellow pedro/joel lovers! luv you all! <3

Taglist: @sarahhxx03, @blahkateisdone, @sunnytuliptime, @pedroscurls

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller series #joel miller smut #joel x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal joel miller #pedrohub #the last of us hbo #the last of us #joel tlou #tlou hbo #joel x y/n #joel x you #withallmylove

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venusrising91 · 1 year ago

Text

Noise Complaint

Pairing: Wonho x Male reader

Genre: Smut, enemies to lovers/hate to love (no plot just vibezzzz)

Summary: Your new nextdoor neighbor, Wonho (Lee-ho) is a loud, inconsiderate gym rat. He keeps you up all hours of the night with his seedy escapades and you're sick of it.

Word count: 2,014 (2 pages)

T/W: aggression, physical violence

It was 4am and you had work at 8, yet rest was as far from your reach as the sun would be once it rose.

Short hours.

You had short hours to get some much needed sleep. But no matter how hard you’d tried, you hadn’t been able to reach the REM state and it was all thanks to your obnoxious, ridiculously muscular neighbor, Lee-ho.

For the third time this week, giggling voices and blaring music, followed by high-pitched moans had kept you wide awake. Usually, after one or two rounds with whatever girl he’d picked up scouring city night clubs, the mewls and slaps and yes daddys would subside, and you could finally drift. But tonight, he seemed to have endless energy. You heard his date come four times. Back to back.

It was almost 6:30 by the time they wore themselves out.

You’d barely slept. At the office, you struggled to keep your eyes open, staring through slits at the charts on your computer. The project manager noticed you nodding and called you into her office after the meeting. As head graphic designer, you were expected to oversee and execute this assignment—because securing this client would ensure you a raise next quarter, but the arrival of your new neighbor had thrown a wrench in your performance.

She threatened to take you off the project and her disappointment was all you could think about on your commute back home.

In the apartment lobby, you pressed the button on the elevator console so hard it nearly jammed.

“Sup bruh.” You whipped your head around and there was Lee-ho, all 6 feet of him, donned in gym wear and sipping on some colorful drink. You clenched your teeth.

“Hey,” you mumbled back with listless regard.

The elevator doors opened and Lee-ho walked gingerly ahead of you. Before he could step inside however, his cell slipped from his pocket. As he bent you couldn’t help but notice his butt: firm, round, muscled. You tore your eyes away and carded your hair. Inside, the music was soft and unobtrusive. The exact opposite of Lee-ho.

“How you feeling?” he asked, plunging his hands into his pockets.

“Tired.”

He snorted. “Oh yeah, me too.”

“I’m sure you are.” You glared at him, slightly envious of the angle of his jaw, of how much sharper it was than yours. And envious also of the broad span of his chest, his neat features, his lips, his hair. He was by all accounts, an objectively better looking man than you and this only added to your irritation.

“What d’you mean by that?” asked Lee-ho, quirking his brow. He must have sensed your frustration because now he was folding his arms, closing up. You didn’t care.

“You know the walls that separate us are paper thin, right?”

“Yeah, and?”

The doors slid open on your floor. “I can hear everything. All the time.” You stepped out before him, stalking down the hallway.

“My bad, dude. I’ll keep it down,” he shouted after you. There was a smug air about his tone and you ignored him as you shoved your key into the lock. It was only 7pm but you were exhausted. After a quick dinner of leftover pasta, and an even quicker shower, you went to bed, desperate to get back the hours you’d lost. You drifted in minutes, sleeping soundly, until loud music and moans yanked you from your dreams at 2am.

You leapt from the bed, pulling on a robe, not bothering to tie it. It took less than two minutes for you to reach Lee-ho’s door. You pounded on it furiously, on and on, until he swung it open. For a moment, each of you stood silently observing one another. He was fully nude, sweating and cupping his genitals as his eyes swept over you. They lingered on your chest, you noted, then trailed up to meet your gaze. Despite your robe, you felt suddenly bare, and exposed. Quickly you tied it, covering yourself from him.

“What the fuck, dude?” said Lee-ho.

“Keep it down.”

“Yeah and what if I don’t?”

“I’ll write a formal complaint. You're violating code of conduct with this shit. Some of us have actual jobs, you know?”

“I have a job.”

“Gym bro influencer and fuckboy does not an occupation make.” This was rude, and uncalled for. But you were sleep deprived. Lee-ho's shoulders slumped down a measure—he appeared somewhat diminished in the face of the insult and you almost felt bad for him. Your eyes fell on his abs however, and then, without meaning to, dipped even lower, catching a glimpse of what was too large to be completely covered by his palm. Even his cock was better than yours—he didn’t need your pity. Without waiting for a retort, you turned and stormed down the hall.

Back in your bedroom, the beginnings of an erection tugged at the tender flesh between your legs. And by the time you lay back in bed, you were rock-hard, and aching.

In the morning you shaved and contemplated calling out, but you really couldn’t afford to. At work, you tried to concentrate but all you could think of was Lee-ho, of his throbbing head, peeking up from behind his hand in the middle of the doorway. You didn’t like men. At least you thought you didn’t. You’d had a few girlfriends in the past and once or twice thought about experimenting with a guy back in college but no one ever drew you in. No one ever attracted you the way—

Enough, you weren’t doing this. What were you thinking? You weren’t into dudes and especially not ones you despised as much as Lee-ho. He probably never had to work for anything a day in his life. Just had to show up and collect everyone's praise and adulation.

Prick.

Back at the apartment, you took the stairs to avoid crossing paths with him. Thankfully it was Friday, and you could catch up on your shows without feeling guilty for missing the sleep that was so hard to come by lately.

After dinner and a shower, you binged a season of a new show on Netflix, and dozed off halfway through. But a short while later, a sharp knock on the door jolted you awake.

You shuffled to it, half-dazed. Waiting on the other side was Lee-ho, glaring a hole through your forehead.

“You know, you’re a real asshole?” he declared.

“Could say the same about you.”

“What you said the other night—you don’t talk to people like that. I want an apology.”

You scoffed and made to shut the door. But he stopped it, forcing it open. “Get off the door and fuck off,” you clipped.

“Or what?”

Impulse and anger drove you to shove him, which was stupid. His arms alone were twice the size of yours. He shoved you back and you stumbled into your apartment. Lee-ho stepped over the threshold, letting the door slam behind him. Then his hands were on you again, crashing into your chest. It knocked the air from your lungs. Enraged, you swung and missed. He caught it and wrapped his hand around your throat, pinning you against a wall. His face was inches from yours as he strangled you, but slowly, his grip loosened. Each of you were panting. He smelled expensive, like Tom Ford—the scent filled you, clouded your head and senses. His breath on you was warm, his lips resting short inches from yours. He brought them even closer, until the tips of your noses were grazing.

“What are you doing?” you whispered.

“I—I’m not—I’m straight but…your…” he trailed off, hand sliding across your chest.

“You wanna fuck me, that it?” Neither of you said a word, only stood there, gazing, panting. Then your hand traveled down, until it landed on his crotch. You palmed his cock, and found it was already hard for you. After the other night, you couldn’t get it out of your mind. Once it was in your mouth, he made the most helpless sounds, cupping your head and guiding you as you swallowed it again and again.

“Fuck, your throat feels s-so good,” mewled Lee-ho. You fought against your gag reflex, getting harder each time he shoved it in, down to the hilt. Your eyes watered. You never thought the taste of cock could turn you on this much. Women were lovely and all but this was something else entirely. It was like satisfying some primal urge you never knew existed until now. You squeezed his balls gently, sucking him all the while. He came in minutes and stood over you shivering as the orgasm rippled through him.

You rose, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Lee-ho dropped to his knees, pulling down your boxers. He took you in his mouth and it felt like the world stopped spinning. His tongue swirled around the tip, one hand cradling your heavy balls, the other gripping your ass, a finger seeking the rosebud. He tried to slip it in but you panicked, bucking away like a spooked horse.

“I thought you said you were straight?” you whispered.

He popped your cock from his warm mouth. You twitched as he smirked up at you. “Chicks like it sometimes. I figured you might wanna give it a try. Feels tight though, got any lube?”

You hesitated, wondering what it would be like to have his finger circling inside you. There was nothing but heat and silence as you stared down at him. “In the bedroom,” you said, breathlessly.

As you lay on your back watching his chiseled body shift in the dim light, he slathered the lube you kept in your bedside drawer onto his middle finger. Then he drizzled some over your erection, spreading it with long strokes.

“Fuuuuuck,” you whined, arching at the pleasure, at the way he gripped you.

“You like that?” With this, he slid a finger inside you, taking it slow. The pressure had you arching even more. Once he eased you past the initial pain, all you could do was moan and claw and look down at your rock-hard cock as he pumped you in two places, at different paces. In the front he squeezed tight, giving you fast, steady strokes, but in that pulsing spot between your cheeks he worked you soft and deep, taking his time as his finger explored your depths. The pressure was glorious, and you felt your entrance contracting around him. “You’re dripping for me,” he cooed. You looked down at yourself as he gripped the base, a long rope dangling from the tip onto your stomach. He licked it, dragging the pad of his tongue along your abs, then swallowed you whole. After a few hard sucks he pulled back, finger still buried in you, coaxing out spasms you couldn't control. Fuck he was so attractive, you never thought a man could make you feel this good.

The next moment, you were shooting ropes in the air, convulsing under him and fisting the sheets as he drained you. He let you pant there, chest heaving, before taking your length back into his mouth. He sucked and finger-fucked you through your sensitivity, ignoring your loud moans and cries. You asked him to stop but you didn’t mean it. You wanted more and he gave it to you. All night. After your third orgasm you could barely stay conscious.

Lee-ho crept beside you, watching as you shivered your way through the leavings of your latest high.

“I’m s-sorry,” you muttered between waves of it, “about the other day. You’re right, I shouldn't have spoken to you like that.”

He chuckled. “It’s fine. I’ll be quiet from now on, promise.”

You couldn’t quite keep your eyes open, and drifted then, still tingling from what he'd done to you. Your rest went uninterrupted for the first time in weeks. But when you woke, Lee-ho was gone.

From then on, the noise had stopped, just like he'd promised. But a few times a week, just before bed, there came a knock at your door, and a smirking, half-naked Lee-ho waiting on the other side of it.

#wonho imagines #lee wonho #lee hoseok #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #shin wonho #lee hoseok smut #monstax smut #monsta x wonho #kpop x you #kpop x y/n #wonho x reader #wonho x you #yaoi #bl manhwa #mm romance #male reader

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grimoireofhayley · 2 years ago

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Of Friends and Horror

Stu Macher x Fem!Reader x Billy Loomis

WARNINGS: Graphic content, eventual Smut (MINORS DNI), Language, Talks of SA, Cheating, Obsessiveness, Gore, 18+ Content, Stalking (let me know if there's more that needs to be added), Possessiveness

Word Count: 0.7k

Summary: You have been best friends with Billy Loomis since you both were in diapers, however, when high school hit, Billy's mom had filed for divorce and had left his father. His dad was miserable even in marriage, hence his continuous affairs with Maureen Prescott. Though, after the divorce and his mother leaving, Billy has been different since; He started dating Sidney Prescott, the late Mrs. Prescott's daughter. He never showed an interest in her until now… But why?

You had a crush on him forever, but decided to make it dormant since he’s in a relationship… but his head was elsewhere even after he got with Sidney. His heart wasn’t in it and you can tell. He was void with any empathy with her and lacked the emotion in his friend group, but when he is around you his true self would show, which sent you mixed signals, often making you question yourself. He was toying with you and he knows it, but he can't help himself, he has to have you one way or another, but not just yet...

On the other hand, there’s Stuart ‘Stu’ Macher, another taken guy. You met him during your first year of high school when Billy went through a stage of not talking to you. Stu was quick to befriend you during your time of strife and he never failed to miss an opportunity to flirt with you or grab at you, even in front of his girlfriend, Tatum. You took it as a sign he was playing around, but what if he wasn’t? What if he couldn’t have you just yet, either?

Both seem interested in you and both have been obsessing over you in their own ways, but they can’t let the thought of having you get in the way of their plan… Neither of them know about one another’s fixation with you…

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OF&H Masterlist

Chapter 1

With remarkable speed and precision, your fingers danced across the keyboard, diligently composing your English assignment due the following day.

You exhaled, perceiving a resounding crackling sound emanating from the outside.

…A storm…

As you stood up from your desk, a brilliant flash of lightning illuminated the already darkened sky. As you moved across your room, you opened your window. Raindrops pelted the chipped frame, splattering onto your arm as you leaned outside.

“God, what a sight.” You smiled, fluttering your eyes.

Storms invariably evoke a sense of contentment, particularly during periods of stress.

You were captivated by the celestial spectacle of the sky erupting in hues of white, yellow, and even purple upon lightning strikes. The auditory symphony of raindrops impacting the pavement, windowsills, and automobiles was equally alluring. The gentle caress of the wind, causing the trees to sway, whistle, and tousle your hair, was an experience of pure bliss.

With a serene smile, you closed your eyes as droplets of water cascaded down your face, wetting your hair.

“Oh, how I wish I could be reading The Shining right now,” you chuckled. “Too bad the school has other plans,” you whispered, blinking your eyes open.

As you turned to return to your computer to complete your assignment, someone or something grasped your arm.

You startled, leaping back, only to chuckle at the realization of who it was.

“Billy, what on earth are you doing here?” you whispered-shouted, stifling a laugh. “You nearly gave me a heart attack…” You trailed, running a hand through your damp (h/c) hair.

A look of amusement fell on Billy’s face. “I’m sorry, (Y/n), I couldn’t help but come over—” Billy said, “Through the window?” you inquired, raising an eyebrow and interlocking your arms, effectively interrupting your friend.

He rolled his eyes. “Of course. What better way to scare my best friend?”

You protruded your tongue and let your arms fall to the sides.

“Alright, loser, what do you want, really? Because I know it wasn’t just to scare me..”

Billy was baffled. How could you possibly know he came here to talk to you about something? Was he that obvious?

“You’re obvious, Bill. What is it?” you pouted, jumping onto your bed and gesturing for him to sit down next to you.

Billy groaned, “How do you do that?” He muttered, sitting next to you.

“Do what?” You tilted your head to the side.

“How do you know when something is wrong?”

“Look, man, I’ve known you for how long?”

“Since we were in diapers..” He rolled his eyes, looking up at the ceiling.

“There’s your answer,” you giggled. “It’s Sidney, isn’t it?” You frowned, staring at him with big, doe-eyed curiosity.

“Yeah,” he said, looking down and fiddling with his thumbs. “We used to be so hot and heavy, but now it feels like I’m in a PG-13 movie. I can’t stand it.”

Your heart ached not because of how he was feeling, but because you had had a crush on him since the first year of high school. You never understood why he chose Sidney, as she was the complete opposite of him and quite prude. It hurt to hear about their relationship.

“Ah, I see… Relationship problems… Lucky me…” You scoffed, Billy only chuckled, playfully punching you in the arm.

“Oh, C’mon.. You’re usually good at the whole… you know, advice stuff..” Billy spoke, getting up from the bed.

You licked your lips and averted your gaze, not wanting to continue the conversation. “Look, Billy,” you said, “I really don’t know what to say that will help you. You’re talking to the wrong person. Have you asked Stu?” You mumbled, but he shook his head.

“Oh,” you mumbled, “I’m sorry, Bill. I wish I could help, but you should really get going. I have homework to finish.” You forced a smile and shoved him back towards the window.

“Hey (Y/n), is everything okay?” Billy asked, noticing the change in your demeanour.

You displayed a forced smile, concealing your true emotions. “I’m fine. My assignment is due tomorrow, and it is proving to be quite difficult…” You were not entirely truthful. While the assignment was indeed demanding, it was not the sole reason for your sudden change in demeanour. Rather, it was the jealousy you were experiencing.

“Oh, okay,” Billy laughed nervously. “I guess I should have called first. I didn’t know you were busy.” He studied your posture, trying to gauge if it was really what you said that was bothering you. But you remained stoic and stiff, like a cardboard box, making it hard to read your emotions.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

You nodded as he climbed out your window.

“Goodbye, Loomis…”

Next->

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donatellarose · 3 months ago

Text

— storms and spirits

Albert Wesker x f!reader

rated e - 1,214 words

tags: STARS captain Wesker, set just before the events of Resident Evil and the Spencer Mansion situation, reader is Chris Redfield's younger sibling, caught in a storm, drinking after work with your boss

prompt: smooth whiskey / soaked clothes from angellilacs

dividers: saradika graphics

notes: Writing Wesker pre RE is so strange. May have made him a bit too soft here? But I think he'd be keeping his cover as Captain before the betrayal. Since I love fluff and comfort, some ooc behavior makes for a happy author.

Welcome to your first day as a Raccoon Police Department S.T.A.R.S. officer. Don't get caught in a storm while on patrol with your Captain.

You had chosen to follow in your older brother's footsteps. The news would come as a surprise to literally no one though. Chris had raised you after the death of your parents. You even had a Swiss Army Knife in your hand the second you turned thirteen. Both for self defense, but also to be like dearest big brother. Always helping people whenever you could. And that meant being a S.T.A.R.S. officer.

The S.T.A.R.S. team only worked because of all the various skill sets. Each unit was based around a team of five operators and one pilot. Though all members were well versed in tactical combat, each had their own skill set that would prove helpful on missions, ranging from recognition of chemical weapons, computer expertise, criminal science, firearms analysis, and sharpshooting.

You had been a shoe in for the most recent job opening. Volunteering within the S.T.A.R.S. office since you were sixteen, you'd spent weekends cleaning weapons and organizing files of closed cases. Your friendly and hardworking demeanor won everyone over, including Captain Wesker. The older man had actually been the one to slide Chris the job application form to pass along to you. After all, the shine you took to chemistry class had led to a university degree in the subject. The additional first aide training from summers spent as a lifeguard made you a perfect fit for handling chemicals and serving as team medic.

It had been no surprise that you were immediately offered the job. Barry, your favorite officer, even had your favorite donut from Moon's waiting on your desk on your first day. All the required trainings had been passed on your part, and you were cleared for duty. You settled in at your desk while straightening out your white shirt with the S.T.A.R.S. emblem proudly over the left sleeve. The M69 Flak vest in royal blue provided some warmth against the gloomy, dark clouds outside.

It had only been an hour of reviewing documents and answering emails before the assignment came in. A far cry from the standard operation of cyber crime and hostage situations, the task was simply to investigate the orphanage across town. Some residents had complained of screaming and breaking glass at the Raccoon City Orphanage just north of the police station.

"Redfield."

Wesker's clear, commanding voice cuts through the office. Both you and Chris turn to look at your captain emerging from his corner office, both of you starting to rise from your respective desks. Wesker shakes his head before pointing at you.

"Just little red for now. We'll go out and do recon. Barry, you take point until we get back."

You rise to your feet, grabbing your gear. Your leg holsters and combat knife sheath were soon ready with your Beretta 92FS service weapon and custom made combat knife. You fall in step besides Wesker, lengthening your stride to match his. Cutting through the West hallway to the library, you soon make your way out the front entrance.

"We'll walk for now. It'll be quicker."

His voice stops you in your tracks, your path veering off towards the nearby patrol cars parked nearby. You correct your route and walk alongside him once more. A silence that would have been uncomfortable for anyone else falls over you. But, not for you. Someone who knows the way to this man's heart is raspberry donuts and black coffee, as well as any compliment on his black sunglasses that never leave his face.

The walk to the orphanage is brief, the cloudy skies growing darker. A subtle air of annoyance seems to waft from your Captain the closer you get to the crumpling building.

"It's probably nothing. People have been flaky recently. Must be something in the air."

He explained, a hint of coldness in his tone before he peers through the fence at the building. Nothing was out of place, save for the overgrown grass in the front yard. You both spend at least an hour inspecting every inch of the property and questioning the staff of the orphanage. No broken glass, no screams. Nothing. You catch his shoulder's relax slightly as you begin to return to the station.

The weather only waits a mere second before the sky opens up, drenching you both in frigid rainwater. Wesker catches your elbow and silently urges you to speed up. You match his pace as you both run through the rain. Rather, you try. Wesker is hardly winded after your five minute sprint back to the cover of RPD, whereas you are doubled over with your hands on your knees while sucking in precious air. Both of you are utterly soaked to the skin.

You start shivering the second you reenter the police station, the air conditioning biting through your damp uniform. Trudging after Wesker, you disappear into the women's locker room to dry off. You have no clothing here in your locker, no one thinks to bring a backup outfit on their first day. A soft knock at the bathroom door draws your attention, you peek out and see a neatly folded stack of clothing. Much too big for you, the S.T.A.R.S. sweatshirt and black gym shorts could have easily fit any of the male officers. You quickly get changed and return to the S.T.A.R.S. office down the hall.

Thankfully, the rest of your 12 hour shift is uneventful. As you get up to follow Chris to your car, you rub your tired eyes. You still don't know whose clothing you have on your body, but it smells faintly of pomegranate and deep velvet. With two fingers pointed at you, Wesker catches your eye and beckons you into his office.

"Yes, Captain?"

"Sit. How do you feel? No longer shaking like a leaf I see."

"I'm fine, sir. This is definitely not how I imagined my first day."

You sit on the wooden chair before Wesker's desk, watching as the older man rummages through drawers. A small bottle of finely aged whiskey and two shot glasses are set on his desk with a soft clink.

"Tradition, little Red."

Wesker explained, pouring you both two fingers of the bronze liquid in each glass. Chris stifled a laugh from where he waited for you by the door. You knew exactly why, you didn't really drink. And when you did, it was something light and fruity. The complete opposite of the glass before you.

You nod, taking the glass before hesitating. Should you really drink with your boss, even if you aren't on the clock. As if sensing your hesitation, Wesker makes an obvious show of turning his chair away from you before downing his glass. You nod slightly before doing the same, coughing at the sharp burn. As you stand to leave, you catch an amused smirk flit across his face as he collects the glasses. His smooth voice stops you before you can make it out the door.

"I'm sure you'll make me proud. After all, you are one of mine now."

You nod before following your older brother out the door. Chris laughs as he takes in your disheveled appearance with a teasing grin on his face.

"Storms and spirits. What a first day. I'll be sure to keep a close eye on you, little sis."

#resident evil x reader #albert wesker

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chaosduckies · 11 months ago

Text

Friends In Small Places (Chapter 1)

The size shifter story is finally here! This is more of a slightly sad piece, even though this first chapter isn’t really all that gloomy and monochrome, I actually have this entire plot line planned out and everything, and whew is the ending going to be something.

But I hope you enjoy! (this chapter is mainly just for introductions so I’m sorry if there really isn’t anything interesting TwT)

Word Count: 4.2k

CW: Depression, major anxiety, slight gore warning? (Though nothing actually happens)

1-Liam

Today the main hall was bustling with people crowding the board that had all of the activities and clubs posted on. Most of the time people didn’t care all too much about it, only the people who were actually in those clubs, but today was different for some reason. Fitting in between the seemingly hundreds of people, I saw what the commotion was all about. The psychology classes were all being called to a meeting at four. Which was when most classes ended, but still. It’s rare that this school ever calls meetings. It just so happens that I was taking psychology though.

I sighed, moving back on the free sidewalk get to the library. A friend was waiting for me to help her study for a test she had in just a few hours. I thought I might as well help seeing that I’ve already taken the course. I used to think that college was extremely strict from how my old high school teachers described it, but in reality it’s not that hard when you just take the time to study and take a few practice tests the day before one. It was just two-and-a-half years before I major in psychology and become a therapist. Well, that was my dream anyways. In this world, it was a lot harder given that most therapists get assigned to a size shifter. That was something I didn’t want to do. Well, maybe if it was one who could only shrink, but that’s maybe it. It freaks me out knowing that there are some shifters who could be as tall as a small skyscraper, and some even bigger. A shiver ran down my spine even thinking about it. But that won’t happen.

Among the few people sitting at the quiet tables lines with pencils, a few pieces of notebook paper, and a lamp that barely even worked, there was a girl waving her arms around aimlessly trying to gain my attention. I laughed softly before walking and sitting down next to her. It seemed she had been here for hours with how she kept her space. Papers spewed all across with scribbled down notes that was barely even legible, colored pens in a mixed mess with her other writing supplies. It made you wonder how she had even made it to college.

“I see you’ve been hard at work, Rhya.” I set my slightly heavy bag down and started attempting to clean up the vast sums of paper all over the desk and try to keep her notes in order.

“Yeah well, not everyone can be all neat and tidy as you are.” She lightly elbowed me before grabbing the stack of papers in my hand and shoving them in a folder. I guess she was going to re-do them after all. Either that or she didn’t need them. Despite this being primarily a nursing and health school, Rhya was in the art department. Of course she had to take the core classes along with her own elective, but she plans on becoming a graphic designer.

“It’s not my fault I know how to study and you don’t.” I joked around, watching her pull out her computer and grab a few empty pages on notebook paper and her calculus book.

“And it’s not my fault you don’t know how to have any fun.” She stuck her tongue out playfully before pulling up a practice test.

“Hey I know how to have fun, just not when I know I have better things to worry about.” She solved the first problem right, pumping her fist up in the air as she wrote down the question and highlighted everything she needed to do. I’m also guessing she planned to study whatever notes she was making.

“I guess you have a point. How’s that psychology major coming along?” She had asked, writing down the problem and attempting to solve it. I sighed, pointing to the number she was missing, “You square root that,” Rhya groaned, “It’s going good. We have some kind of weird meeting later today though.”

“Oh? Do you know what about?” Rhya asked, but I could tell she was hiding something from me. She knew something.

“No. Do you?” I skeptically looked at her, earning a side eye right back as she had paused her writing for a moment.

“Would you believe me if I said no?” She grumbled, I shook my head, a slight smile forming on my face. She knew I would win this argument.

“Okay well, this might not be true, but I heard that a few psychology students were chosen to have a training. Like, the real deal kind of thing. Size shifter and all. That the ones chosen were supposed to act like one of those special therapists.” My heart nearly skipped a beat at the news. Where did she even hear this from in the first place? There’s no way that’s even real.

“You’re kidding, right?” I laughed nervously. Even if it was true, I doubt they’d choose a sophomore. I’ve only really had a few practices and I still have a couple more years until I become the real deal.

“Would I lie to you?” She turned to me, a worried look on her face. Did she think I would have to go through with that? I sincerely doubt it. There was no way they’d put me on whatever list they have going on. Maybe my upperclassman though. They could choose Chelsey, she was really good with everyone and a senior. They’d most likely choose her. Maybe even Ryan since he was really experienced. Actually, he was a size shifter himself, but he’s so good at controlling his emotions that he doesn’t even need to worry about accidentally shooting up a couple feet.

“Ah, it doesn’t matter. I doubt they choose someone with barely any experience. Don't’ worry about it.” I smiled, pointing back to Rhya’s computer to tell her that she needed to get to studying and stop worrying about me. Seriously, she really needed to study otherwise she was going to fail. I can almost guarantee that she’ll be crying to me later when she fails her test. Not my fault she doesn’t study.

——————

The gym was a large space, but our entire class only took up one tiny portion of the bleacher space as our instructor and several other people dressed up in fancy suits were talking on the ground. I sat next to Ryan, who was playing with the green-colored band on his wrist, showing that he was in one of the five classes of size shifters. Purple represented that they could shrink down to an inch or maybe even smaller if their emotions had the better of them. Blue represented that they could shrink too, but not as much as the one’s with a purple wrist. Green represented that they could both shrink and grow, but only to a certain height. Yellow meant that the shifter could grow to be the size of about a small building, or maybe even a little more depending on how they’re feeling. Red was by far the worst one. To me at least. The shifter’s with a red band can grow to heights you could only dream of. Which was why all shifters with a red band were all forced to be with a specialized therapist for only them. Because if they lose control of their emotions, it could end pretty badly.

“I’m glad you all saw the announcement on the board. I’m a little surprised really.” Mr. Smith shoved his hands in his front pant pockets, taking a look at all of us before his eyes laid on me, smiling warmly. Why? Something was up.

“These two gentlemen here are the head of the SSU. Also known as the company that helps size shifters in need. Recently, there has been a shortage of individuals that are willing to work with shifters in helping them control themselves. These two are on the look for candidates-in-training to help fill those missing spots.”

The two men in suits walked to the front, holding out a clipboard. Those had whoever was going to be picked for this. But why this school? There was another college not too far from here. They could choose from them. Unless they were, and the “tiny” shortage was actually a big one. Or… no. They wouldn’t do that, right? It’s the SSU, they’ve literally helped the world become safer for decades. They wouldn’t be doing an experiment, would they?

“It’s wonderful to see all sixty-two of you young scholars gathered here today. As your professor already said, we are both from the head office at SSU looking for the best of the best to fill in those empty spots, regardless if you do or don’t have any experience.” That last part made a shiver run down my spine. Ryan turned his head to me, patting me on the back. There was no way they’d choose a nobody like me. No way in hell.

“This list contains twenty of you who will be taking part in this. You will be in charge of taking care of your designated partner until we can find a professional replacement suited well enough to take over. If I call your name, please stay behind after we dismiss everyone.” The tall man smiled, looking down at the clipboard and calling several names. The anxiety pricked my skin like icicle shards, it had almost seemed like the man reading off names was speaking in slow motion. A few deep breaths, and it was back to normal.

“Ryan Wright.” He smiled while earning several compliments and congratulations from his fellow classmates.

“Chelsey Torres.” She giggled a few seats away from us.

“And Liam Rover.”

My muscles tensed up at the mention of my name. I couldn’t tell if my heart had stopped or if it was just beating horrifyingly fast. I could tell people were trying to praise me, but I couldn’t hear, their appraisal only reaching my ears in a muffled and slow manner. I managed the most sincere smile I could while trying to hide how much I was trembling. Maybe this would be okay? Maybe I’ll be lucky and not be paired up with a shifter who could potentially crush me between two if their fingers if they really wished to. Was the room cold or was it just me?

“Everyone else may head to their dorms. Thank you for coming.”

After everyone had filed out of the empty gym, the other shorter man dressed in an identical suit as the taller one started calling out our names all over again, handing them a red folder with presumedly the shifter we’ll be assigned. Was this how it was when you’re actually a professional? You just get assigned to one? You don’t get to know them or anything?

Once I was handed my folder, I dreaded every single second of opening it. Please let it be easy, please let it be easy, please let it be eas-

Oh.

It was only a picture of who we were partnered up with and anything that might be worth mentioning about them. Wow was I overreacting. Then again, that didn’t exactly smoothen out the anxiety that was still pricking at my skin. Though, this shifter didn’t seem so bad. If anything, he actually looked pretty nice. The only thing I had noticed was that he was diagnosed with depression. He kind of looked like it too if I were being honest. It seemed hard for him to smile for the picture. Why did I also get the hint that he wasn’t feeling very good either? I guess I’ll find out when we officially meet.

“Inside you’ll find who your partner will be for the foreseeable future. You’ll still be coming to your classes, which was why we mainly wanted to stick with the upperclassmen, and afterward go back to where we are currently housing your designated shifter. You have three days to pack everything you need and want, and you’ll soon be living off campus. Just think of it was having a roommate that needs constant supervision.”

Okay, maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. I’m almost entirely confident that this shifter won’t really be a big deal. I mean, he looks about a year or two younger than me. So he just graduated high school? Agh, I have no idea. I’m just jumping to conclusions. But, hopefully they won’t make me handle anything crazy. That I can’t do.

——————

They were driving me across the city to go meet up with the shifter I’ll be taking care of for however long. For all I know it could be a few days or weeks. I would think someone would want to step up for the job instead of letting students do this, but I guess not. Chelsey and Ryan have texted me a few times that they were getting settled in already while I was still heading over. It was already around thirty minutes just to get across the place, so that means I’ll have to take a bus almost everyday just to make it to my classes. That’s just great, but I’m in no position to complain. I actually tried talking with Professor Smith about it, but he told me that he had no say in the matter at all, which was weird. I doubt he would want his younger students to even take part in this.

Along the streets were the many, many buildings that both accommodated for humans and their much larger or smaller companions. Although I’ve only ever been around Ryan about twice when he’s giant, it really wasn’t that bad. He can only grow till someone was like the height if his entire hand so it really wasn’t even that bad. Of course it’s still nerve-racking, but I trust him. Plus, we were at a small party with our little friend group. I doubt he could even bring himself to hurt someone. So really I wasn’t too worried. The only other shifter I’ve been around is an old high school friend of mine, but she goes to a different college now.

Hundred of houses passed by us as we drove into a little neighborhood. What really made me worried was that the driver wasn’t exactly stopping at the normal-sized houses. Where was he going? I watched grimly as some of the huge houses we passed by came to a halt to one on the very end of one of the many streets. This one wasn’t as big as the other one’s down the street, but it wasn’t exactly small either. At least to me. So… I was paired up with a shifter who could only grow. That’s great. Just… great.

I grabbed my bag and the small suitcase I had brought with me that was just full of my clothes and some stuff for school. Well if I’m supposed to stay here almost all of the time now I have to find something to keep me busy. And apparently from the immense size difference that will be between my new roommate and I. Of course I was terrified! If he really is diagnosed with depression and was a shifter who grew that only made matters worse for me. I hope whoever plans to take over for me does it soon.

It took me and the driver to reach the doorstep, but eventually the driver gave it a knock. I swear I could hear some mumbling coming from the other side, but I didn’t dwell too much on that. Most.y because the extremely large door started to open slowly, but I saw no one on the other side. Maybe he was shy?

“Well I may take my leave, though I have been ordered to tell you that a bus comes in the morning at around 6 just down the street from here, and another will take you back here around 5 and 8. Also, if anything goes wrong, to call this number on your phone.” He handed me a folded slip of paper, then took his leave. I shoved the slip in my pocket, hesitantly taking a few steps into the huge house.

It was neatly cleaned around the place, though I couldn’t really see from my view on the ground. Everything around me was huge. I mean I’ve been to one of the rooms on the bigger side of the campus, but those rooms were smaller. It’s not an entire house filled with furniture.

As I took a few steps out more, I jumped when the door had lightly closed behind me. My eyes trailed up and up, finding the face of the person I had seen in the picture. His eyes grew wide when I met his gaze, then bit the bottom of his lip before sliding his back against the wall behind him.

Everything in my body told me to run, but if I did then I would only get scolded for it later. This isn’t even what I wanted to be! I wanted to be a normal therapist that helps regular adults and kids feel better. Not a human who could easily trap me in a fist and just kill me. I would have been fine if they could only shrink, but this was much worse.

I faced down, taking a few deep breaths that barely even help me in this situation. I had to take care of someone fifty times my own size? How was that even possible? There weren’t even any smaller sized things around this place. Nothing that could help me get around easier either!

I guess I could attempt to get his name. I mean, nothing could go wrong then, right? Just maybe from a distance… even if he could, at any point in time, just grab me whenever he so wanted. I felt sick just thinking about being held. Wouldn’t I have to be though? I can’t exactly just climb everywhere I want to go.

“H-hi. Um, I’m Liam.” I forced myself to walk closer, even under his gaze, but I stopped walking closer when he moved himself further in the corner, looking a bit saddened. He probably knew I was scared. Maybe. I hope I’m some-what hiding it well enough. Though, I’ve never really been that good at it.

“Oh, um, C-Casper. You can call me Cas if you want.” He kept his voice to a very quiet whisper. So he knew that if he talked too loud it would hurt my ears. At least he’s self-aware. Though, I couldn’t help but feel bad. I may be utterly terrified of him, but I mean he hasn’t really given me a reason to be truly scared, yet.

“Nice to m-meet you, Cas.” I put on my best fake genuine smile. What? Have to find some way to convince him I wasn’t scared. Even if my body was trembling like crazy and my heart threatened to just come right out of my mouth.

“Y-you too, sir.” His hand slightly twitched, but he just shook his head, giving me a sad look. ‘Sir?’ Why did he call me that? I didn’t dwell on it. Instead, I turned to look at the place, not finding a place to put my stuff. I sighed, hurrying to place it up against the wall opposite of Cas. This would be fine. Yeah, yeah.

Casper, overall, seemed pretty nice. He had a black, messy hair that complimented his light-brown eyes. He wore a baggy long-sleeve shirt with a pair of jeans I have no idea why he was just wearing jeans in his own house, but it’s whatever he wants to do. Not my place to comment. The only real thing that caught my attention were the light bags in his eyes. Has he been sleeping?

“Did you want to come here? Like, willingly?” He had asked, slightly leaning a little closer to my spot in the middle of the floor. I admit, it made me a little uneasy, but I don’t think he realized it. It just made it really hard to answer his question when all I could think about was how easily he could kill me right now. He wouldn’t do that, right? He seems so nice. Even if I’m barely two inches to him and I could easily just be crushed or accidentally killed if he wasn’t being too mindful. I shuddered at the thought, but forced my voice to work with me.

“I-I’m just a student at a college. They just told us we were going to help out shifters, for like, real-world training I guess.” I started speaking a little fast and I could hear my voice slowly get quieter the more Cas seemed to lower his body to me. I felt so small compared to him. It’s overwhelming really, but it’s not like I can just back out. I already asked and they said if I did then I wasn’t cut out to stay in the classes. Seriously, all I wanted was to either be a therapist or a social worker. Not take on these huge responsibilities of making sure an entire living being is doing okay and doesn’t have any malicious intent to just… Aghhhh.

“Oh. Well, I’m not exactly the best person to be paired up with.” He laughed sadly, holding up his wrist and revealing a red band. A little squeak left my mouth as I stood in place, practically frozen in fear. Why did they pair me up with him? They gave me more than I can handle. There was no way I could do this. I bit the side of my cheek, struggling to keep my composure.

Cas caught onto my fear, scooting as far away from me as he could while making sure I wouldn’t freak out. Why did he move away? I was going to be fine. I think- But I was okay. Just as long as I keep a certain distance from him for a while. It takes me a long time to adjust to new things, and this might take me a while, but I couldn’t just do nothing. It was obvious to me that Cas was afraid of something, I just couldn’t figure out what just yet.

“I’m fine, Cas, I promise.” I nervously smiled, hiding how terrified I was. Shifters with a red band can grow to heights you could only dream of. Great. Seriously, what have they done? They think I can handle someone who already looks like he’s struggling to keep himself together just by meeting me? I didn’t really want to find out what would happen if he doesn’t contain his emotions. Was there a person partnered up with him before? I knew I wasn’t going to be getting any answers, but there was no harm in asking them.

“O-Okay,” He whispered, getting in a more comfortable sitting position, “Are you sure though? I don’t mind giving you an hour or two to get used to… everything.” He looked away for a second, and I could tell something was on his mind. Along with the constant moving away every time I had tried to walk closer, or when he knew I was scared of him, I would think to say that he’s scared of himself. Or, at least hurting other people. It makes sense actually. I’ve heard stories that a lot of shifters realize that they can really hurt people and just try their hardest not to interact with people smaller than themselves. It’s like they collapse on themselves since they don’t want to hurt anyone. I guess Cas and I weren’t so different.

“Okay, look, it’s obvious that you’re more afraid of yourself than I am of you,” Cas’s eyes widened, “How about we both try to help each other out? I’ll keep trying if you do.” I held out my hand without thinking. A compromise between the two of us. I know we both met like five minutes ago, but I’m pretty sharp for people my age with little experience. But, honestly, maybe this wasn’t so bad. I think all that Cas wanted was the relief that he won’t hurt people. Or something like that.

“You’d go through with all that? I’m not exactly mentally stable.” I could tell that he was worried, but I just nodded my head, a genuine smile on my face that I hoped he could see.

He eyed my hand for a while, and I still hadn’t realized what was wrong until he lightly pinched my hand between the tip of his pointer and thumb, barely even lifting it up and down for my own sake. Oh he has no idea how scared I was right now, but he didn’t have to know that. Just a little more pressure and he could just yank my arm right off-I shook that thought away. Don’t think about that right now. It would be okay. Just as long as I get an idea of what to do when he does eventually lose control or something. I had zero idea. I think the thought that stuck in the back of my mind was making me more worried than anything really. I’m just a stress toy for him. But I’ll just have to get over my fear. There was no way I would let this stop me from graduating. Not in a million years.

——————

Sorry for a slightly boring chapter! I did a LOT of world building for this one, and had to map out almost every single interaction through the course of the entire story plot. There also wasn’t much g/t but again, it’s just an introduction chapter. (I’m doing what I love and no one can stop me hehehe-)

But I hope you enjoyed reading! I promise the second chapter will have a much, much better g/t interaction. (Oh trust me it will >:3) I hope you all have a great day/night!

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sehtoast · 1 year ago

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Satisfy Me (Homelander x Reader PowerSwap!AU)

18+ | 3.4k, stalking, masturbation, mostly mutual masturbation, graphic violence, powerswap au, gender neutral reader | Fic Directory

Ask Prompt: Non supe hl x HL reader. Like the reader has his powers, and he's just a regular guy.

You find him by chance. Could've been any of those little ants down on 36 assigned to your old suit's preservation, but it was him.

What an ordinary fellow he was, too, running around in those little blue sweaters over his dress shirts, his soft box-dye-blonde hair, those pretty blue eyes behind dark framed glasses. It drove you nuts, but that was the best part.

John was the best part.

You fixated on him from the moment you saw how he handled a literal part of you, how he touched your suit with care and grace, expressed how much of an honor it was to be picked to take care of you.

And you? You were bigger than life itself! The fucking Homelander, for crying out loud. Of course he should be honored to preserve and maintain your old suit; it's you for fuck’s sake. So why was it that his anxious little demeanor was so endearing to you? What was it that made his promise to keep something of yours in tip-top shape turn him into the center of your attention?

Why did you find yourself lingering on 36 far more often? Going down with the excuse of wanting to see progress on the display, but really just wanting to see him, talk to him, learn about him.

Your gloved hand on his shoulder makes him nervous. You can hear his heart beat as quickly as a hummingbird’s wings as he glances up at you. His cortisone spikes, but not in the wrong way. You rile him up.

It's adorable.

You begin to watch him. You follow him along the route of the subway, trail him from his stop to the school where he picks up his son, then to his apartment. You float up at the same pace that they ascend the stairs until you're lingering outside the window to his bedroom, watching him sleep.

This becomes your routine, and god help anyone who tries to take you away from it.

You sneak in a few times when no one’s home. Roam between rooms, investigating every little piece of his life. You borrow a sip or several from the milk in the fridge, peek at the living room, investigate the bathroom. You learn the boy's name is Ryan from the little wooden letters mounted on the wall above his bed. There's not much of note in the kid's room save for action figures, lego sets, and a few stick figure doodles labeled ‘me and dad.’

John's room is where you have your fun. You start at his desk, sifting through papers and soon-to-be-due bills. You wiggle the mouse at his computer and find his desktop background to be a picture of himself and Ryan. You're almost offended that it's not a picture of you and all your star-spangled glory.

Almost. There's better things to do than care about that.

There's a closet full of clothes to run your fingers over, a drawer of underwear from which you can pick your new favorite keepsake. You settle on a pair of dark red briefs, holding them to your nose to inhale deeply, groaning as the scent of him fills your lungs. You make your way over to the nightstand where you find a drawer with a stroker and lube hidden inside a ball of paper towels. You smirk and toy with it for a time, tongue jutting out to lave over the inside, hoping and praying that there’s even a drop of him left in there.

And then there’s his bed, full of his scent. You lay on it and press your face into his pillow, breathing in several deep, focused breaths. Underneath a smell that is so uniquely him, you find a hint of something woodsy and herbal. It tickles your nose sweetly but you focus more on his natural aroma than that of his products. You want to stay more than anything. You’re surrounded by him in every sense of the word. All of your senses are bombarded by parts of him; the only thing missing is the man himself.

You roll on your back, eyes shut as you picture what it would look like to gaze up at him from that angle. How he’d look leaning above you, sweat on his brow as he drives into you over and over and over again… How he’d pant and gasp, exerting himself just to please you, just to pump you full of his love and devotion.

God, you hadn’t even realized you’d snaked your hand into your pants during the fantasy. You shut your eyes and continue anyway.

Your mind wanders back to him. You’d touched yourself to the thought of him quite a few times, but doing it in his bed?

Delicious…

You imagine wrapping your legs around him, featherlight lest you crush his pelvis. You roll him, straddling his waist as you come down hard on his cock. Beneath you is where he looks best. Squirming and panting, hips thrusting to meet you in desperate, sloppy motions. You’d be so good to him, too. You’d ride his cock until he saw stars, until the only word that could come out of his mouth is your name…

You’d let him pump you full of however many loads that pitiful, human body of his could muster, until you’re dripping with his come and he’s yours inside and out.

Maybe you’d mark him up, too. Leave some handprints at his hips, some bite marks where he’s soft… Wouldn’t be hard… Wouldn’t take much to mar that perfect skin with your claim of ownership. Some hickeys at his inner thighs, maybe an extra special one right where his cock meets his groin.

Your salacious fantasies come to a head at the same time as your pleasure. You grind against your hand as you picture what it’d be like to milk his cute little cock. Suck him dry, watch him beg and plead, let him squeeze your head with his legs as if he could possibly make you stop. You’d eat up every ounce of him and spit it back in his mouth. Make him go down on you with a mouthful of his own come.

“Oh, fffuck!” You howl, writhing on his bed, fist gripping and pressing his blanket to your nose. Your underwear are soaked, but you couldn’t care less. Not as you pant heavy breaths, your body blissful and surrounded by him.

You linger for quite a while, only breaking away for your regularly scheduled visit with him.

You had asked for a lesson about The Federalist Era - not that you really gave a shit beyond getting to consume his time. John was all too excited at your sudden interest and he offered to stay late just for you. Ryan would be with his mother, as was the case for every Friday to Sunday, and he’d have nothing but time for you.

He meets you in your penthouse with a textbook and it's everything you've got not to devour him whole. He’s so precious. You keep your gloves off, brushing your fingers over his as you point to parts of the text you ‘didn't get.’ You do everything in your power to keep him red and blushing. You scoot closer, hover in his space, lean over his shoulder. You practically eye-fuck him every time you look at him. You toy with him all night until he finishes his lesson.

He stays for another hour just for the hell of it. Just to spend time with you. It's not until he's yawning that he entertains the idea of heading home.

“Why don't you let me fly you?” You offer, smirking at how he deeply he flushes.

“Oh, I mean... I don't- I just-” He stammers. “I’m just a little scared of heights, you know?”

You scoff a laugh at his confession, taking him by the hand and leading him to your balcony. He doesn't resist you whatsoever.

“C'mon, Johnny! I won't let anything happen to ya!” You wrap your arms around his waist and begin to hover. You whisper in his ear, “I'll protect you,” and you can feel the way he shivers before nodding.

His arms wrap around your neck, textbook dangling from one hand as he presses himself against you. The higher you rise, the tighter he holds on.

“Good boy.” You breathe soft and low, thumb rubbing circles at his lower back. “I’m a much better ride than the shit they got down there.”

He clings to you the whole way home, only realizing after you've dropped him off that you somehow know where he lives.

You drive him wild. You stir a feeling in him that he hasn't had time to focus on in so long, and it's to your absolute pleasure that you get to linger and peer through his roof that night as he takes care of himself.

John fucks his fist with reckless abandon, then his toy that he just can't help but imagine is your hole. You focus extra hard, trying to make your senses pick up on everything happening in that room. You can smell the salt of his sweat, the pheromones in the air, the scent of his precum. You hear every little gasp and moan, every groan that rattles out of his pretty little mouth. The sound of lube squelching in his stroker riles you up so much more, and you’ve half a mind to burst through the fucking wall and mount him.

You tease yourself in time with him, knelt on the roof so perfectly that no one could catch you. You gaze through matter with hooded eyes to watch him, and it’s the most beautiful, tempting sight you’ve ever seen in your life. You can’t remember a time you’ve been so fucking horny as you are right then.

He comes near violently, shouting, “H-Homelander!” as he does. Your eyes roll back and a quivering moan rips from your throat as you come apart with him. He called your name.

He called your fucking name.

He’s already yours...

He works the next day for some overtime pay. Nothing stressful, just some extra document filing. You're preoccupied with filming away from the tower, much to your heavily expressed ire, and he's bored.

He's bored for the whole day, wishing you'd come by. He stays extra late, hoping beyond hope that you’ll meander in like you don’t actively choose to come down to such an insignificant level.

But you don’t.

He’s thoroughly bummed out as he steps off the train, walking the rest of the way home in the dark. He knows you didn’t forget about him; you’re just busy. Even the world’s greatest superhero’s gotta take care of their commitments, right? He’s deep in thought as he makes his way down the cold street. The yellow glow of the streetlights sets a somber feeling deep in his heart as he shuffles further along, passing the occasional stranger, hands in his pockets. He should’ve worn more than a sweater and a scarf. He had no idea it was gonna be so chilly. Or maybe he’s just so used to running hot after spending time around you.

God, had he really caught the attention of Homelander? Like, really caught it?

He’s heard stories– god knows there’s enough to go around. Was told by more than a few of his coworkers in the archives that it’s dangerous to even be around you. That there was a good reason that the loneliest spot was always at the top.

He didn’t like that, though. What he did like, however, was you. The way you look at him as though he’s worth wanting. You give him your full attention and fuck, you always come back. It’s like he matters now. He’s not just some orphan-turned-moderate-success trying to raise his son and keep from drowning under the oppressive cost of New York’s rent. Well, he still is, but he’s all of that and he’s got the attention of The Homelander!

And he finds you sweet. Like a big, scary dog that only likes him. He wants to know more about you. As much as he likes history, he’d love yours even more.

He’s so caught up in his thoughts that he neither sees nor hears the man sprinting up behind him to grab him by the scarf. John chokes harshly as he’s dragged into an alley, kicking and thrashing to no avail.

He’s thrown on the ground and he wants to get back up, fight for what little good it’d actually do, but there’s a clicking sound directly in front of his face and–

He freezes. Eyes go wide, skin chills far colder than the air alone could ever turn it. A pit forms in his gut and oh god he’s fucking helpless.

“Empty yer fuckin’ pockets,” demands the gunman, motioning down with the barrel of the firearm. He can barely see them as more than fuzzy silhouettes and he realizes that he’s lost his glasses.

He pulls his wallet and phone free shakily, laying them gently on the ground before raising his hands up in surrender. He watches the man who grabbed him go through his wallet, and he hears a scoff.

“Twenn’y bucks?” The man slurs exasperatedly. “Yer life ain’t worth twenn’y, son. Ah shit… we could sell ya! I got a guy needs a good piece’a meat to throw ‘round in his dog fights. Should see the way the mutts fight over fresh food. Y’look like good bait.”

John blinks rapidly, eyes wide and panicked as each word settles in. He tries to shuffle backward, but he’s grabbed by the ankle and yanked back.

“Bet he’d go for a few hundred. He don’t stink. Not a ton of meat on ‘im, but there’s enough,” the gunman muses. “Shit, Gordy, we might as well. Fuckin’ twenty bucks… Ain’t even worth the effort to–”

John hears a sound like fabric flapping, and suddenly everything goes silent.

Silent, until he hears you.

“Howdy ho, boys!” You greet, though your tone couldn’t be further from inviting. “Say, what’s got two idiot fucks like yourselves out tonight, eh?”

John pats at the ground, desperate to find his glasses. He needs to see this- needs to see you. His heart pounds in his ears so loudly that he can’t hear what the men say to you, only the sounds of shrill, agonized screaming. Something warm splats against his cheek and a deep, unsettling feeling in his bones tells him that it’s blood.

“C’mon, boys! It’s not that bad!” He hears you chuckle, followed by a flash of red and more howls of pain. “You guys! It’s not like I’m, oh, I dunno, feeding you to a pack of dogs?”

As he scrambles, he feels the cracked lenses of his glasses and puts them on in time to see just what you’d done.

His assailants kneel on the ground, their arms laying next to them. He swears he sees bones jutting out of their legs.

You’re elbow deep in one’s chest, smiling sadistically with every crunch and squelch as you rip free a blood drenched length of bone and shreds of muscle.

His stomach should churn at the sight of you shoving the gunman’s body to the ground. It folds in half without a spine to support it, and it’s objectively the most terrifying thing he’s ever seen. The other man whispers to himself, which must really piss you off. He sees it in your eyes. Yet, he’s not scared. Not of you.

“Greedy little thing, aren’t ya?” You muse as you stare down at the man.

John can hear him reciting a prayer.

“Oh, please. Heaven ain’t real, buddy!” You kneel down to pat his cheek, staining his skin a deep red. “You want God?” You scoff almost sweetly. "This is God..."

He watches you wedge your hands into the man’s mouth, effortlessly ripping his jaw and head apart, splitting him down the length of his neck.

John watches in a mix of awe and horror as you continue tearing all the way down through the chest cavity. There’s a sick look in your eyes. Like you’d done this before.

Like you were comfortable doing this.

So why the fuck wasn’t he afraid when your gaze flickered up to him? Why did the shakes of his body quell the minute your blood stained hands reached down to loosen the scarf still tight from when he’d been dragged?

You’re drenched in blood. The pungent liquid soaks you, drips down your collar and into your suit. It’s all over your face, coating your hair, resting thick on your eyelashes.

His hands come to settle at your cheeks, thumbs smoothing through the viscera as he gazes up at you in awe. Your grip on his arms is featherlight at most, and he’s amazed.

You are a creature of unfathomable violence. You have ripped and torn through an incalculable amount of flesh, committed sins far greater than even his mind full of historical horrors could imagine, and yet…

You hold him as though you’re afraid to break him.

Even as you gather him in your arms and fly away, you’re so gentle with him. Considerate and kind, courteous and caring as you bring him home. Your boots leave bloody prints across the hardwood floor of his bedroom as you walk him to the bathroom. You’re on autopilot and that nagging voice in your mind berates you for prioritizing some simple mud person over yourself, over the thrill of the kill.

“Are you hurt?” You hear him ask, and it leaves you deeply confused. Are you, The fucking Homelander, hurt? Are you, indestructible force that you are, in pain?

He forces you to sit on the edge of the bathtub as he scrambles around for supplies. You’re not sure why you let him move you around. Hell, you’re not even sure why you let him wash the blood from you.

Worse yet, you let him strip your upper body bare.

You let him see the truth of your suit and what you lack beneath. You’ve got the power of a god, certainly, but you’re so regular underneath the facade. But you can’t find it in yourself to care as he wipes you clean with a warm, wet cloth. Not with the way he holds the back of your head and removes the evidence of just how far your love for him will push you.

At some point your eyes lock and his hands stop moving.

Time stills, but he does not. He leans forward and takes you in a kiss so soft that you wonder if it even counts. Just a peck at first, barely even a graze of his flesh against yours. When you don’t pull away, he comes back, this time brushing his lips to yours with the slightest bit of pressure. His lips are soft, his kisses unsure until you finally reciprocate.

Then?

Oh, then he devours you with a need fit to rival your own. His arm wraps around your upper body and pulls you against him, all while your own hands scramble to grab at him. Your breaths mingle together, fanning hot and heavy against each other. He tastes blood on your lips, and you taste the remnants of his afternoon coffee. The scent of iron mixed with him surrounds you, and god it is the most exquisite aroma.

His taste, his scent, his touch, his sweet little gasps…

You want it all.

He pulls away once he, fragile human that he is, gets dizzy. John giggles breathlessly against your mouth, tongue sliding over his lower lip to lap at your lingering taste. You smile in return, indulging in something you’ve never quite felt before. His hands still roam, and you’ve a pretty good idea of exactly where this night will end up once he’s got the rest of that pesky blood wiped from you. For now, though, you’re satisfied even if you’re not entirely satiated.

After all, you’ve truly proven yourself to be–

“My hero…”

#homelander x reader #homelander #homelander fanfiction #homelander smut #antony starr #the boys #this is hands down my most fav x reader to have written #this prompt was so fun

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pepsiconcoction · 2 years ago

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The Perfect Tutor | Lee Know x Reader

pairing: CompSci Student! Lee Know x gn!Reader

tags: fluff, no smut, just a little flirting at the end, minor explicit language, partially proofread

You think he might be perfect. And that pisses you off. Surely he can't be, right?

Why did you have to take the comp sci unit? You’re a graphic designer, you don’t need to know how big scary servers work!

Those have been the thoughts running through your head most recently. Especially at this moment as you try to “install Windows Server 2019” and “set up Active Directory”. Yeah… because those are definitely real words… that you definitely know the meaning of.

To your dismay, at the beginning of the semester, you found out that you had to take the general computing unit, alongside your regular classes, to gain the number of credits you need to get into next year. Being a graphic designer who uses a computer, you thought that ‘general computing’ sounded like something you could do, you spend most of your time on one for god’s sake!

You’ve been staring at a loading screen for the past 10 minutes, and you’re quite honestly beginning to doubt whether it’s going to turn into anything. The Professor speaks up, dismissing the class, signalling it’s the end of the day.

After choke-holding the computer to death (holding the power button), you slowly gather your things, watching as the other students begin to leave the computer lab. Once most of them have left, you walk up to the front desk.

“Y/n, what can I do for you?” The Professor, looks up from his school-assigned laptop, glasses on the bridge of his nose.

“Hey, Professor. I think I’m falling behind a bit, just a little out of my depth with everything,” You force your sincerest smile, talking quietly. “So I was wondering if you’d be available for extra lessons?”

“I wish I could, but I’m so busy with the department being understaffed. How about you ask one of your classmates?”

You mindlessly turn back to the room where there are a few stragglers left.

“Oh, I don’t-”

“How about Minho?” He gestures behind you.

“Minho?” You turn around making eye contact with the man mentioned. His eyes widen in curiosity at his name.

“Yeah, he is more than capable to tutor you, aren’t you, Minho?”

Minho’s desk is only a few feet from the front but he takes a few steps towards you, holding a pair of wireless headphones in his hands. He is definitely more than capable to tutor you, and you know this. He’s quiet and keeps to himself, but you’ve seen his grades in passing. You don’t think he’s gotten below 95% on any assignment or test. You’d happily have him as your tutor, it’s just that, well, he might possibly be the most handsome guy you’ve ever met. Okay, the standards in the Comp Sci department aren’t exactly high, you’re lucky if most of them are wearing deodorant, but Minho? He dresses well, styles his hair, has a side profile worthy of painting AND he wears the perfect amount of cologne, not too much that it’s overbearing but just enough that it’s refreshing whenever you walk past him.

“Yeah, I probably could.” Minho looks at you and then back to the Professor.

“Great!” He closes his laptop and stands, gathering his things. “I’ve got to run to my next class, you guys can sort the rest.”

With that, your Professor is halfway out the door. You look up to Minho who is half chuckling at his bluntness, and he turns to you.

“Are you sure you wanna tutor me? You don’t have to say yes, he's not here anymore.” You say, half-jokingly.

“If you need help, I’m around. I have some free time this Friday if you want to set something up?” Minho asks.

“Yeah, Friday works great for me!”

“Perfect.” You end up swapping phone numbers to discuss the details, and you leave the classroom feeling partially accomplished. Now you just need to be professional, and not think he’s the hottest guy in the world whenever you catch a glimpse of him. You can do that. You can be normal, right?

You absolutely cannot be normal. Friday came around and he rocked up to the empty computer lab looking gorgeous in fitted black jeans and a denim jacket, coffee in hand. Thankfully you had gotten there slightly earlier to try and get ahead of the game with your notes. The two of you had decided to start with the basics, installing the operating system of the computer. Easy.

“Remember, you don’t want to partition the hard drive, it’s not worth it on these machines at this level.” Minho explained as you quickly scribbled ‘don’t partition’ down in your notebook.

You had discovered that Minho was not only a sight for sore eyes, but also possibly the nicest, gentlest, calmest person you had met. Of course, he had his moments of energy and you two found yourself easily joking around with each other, but he was such the opposite of the gamer stereotype that you had come to dread.

“So, do you play any video games?” You asked, keeping the conversation going as the two of you were forced to sit through long progress bars.

“Not really, no. Not really my thing.” He says.

“Really? A computing student that doesn’t play games? That’s rare.” You chuckle, almost in disbelief.

“I mean, I’ve played games. With friends and such, but I’m just not crazy into them.”

“So what are you crazy into? Computers? You seem pretty good with them.” You look towards him. The both of you are sat around a single computer, and yes, you’re very conscious of that fact.

“I guess? I’m only really taking this class for the credits.” He leans back in the chair.

“Wait, so am I!” You laugh. “So why are you so good?”

“I used to take computing in high school, and I was a bit of a nerd back then.” he laughs.

“So what’s your major then? Mister I-only-need-the credits.”

“Dance.” He smirked.

“Liar.” You rolled your eyes.

“I’m serious. I’m a dancer.” He sat forward, chuckling.

“Show me.”

“I don’t dance for free. You’ll have to come to one of my performances,” he says cockily, crossing his arms.

“Whatever, I’ll believe it when I see it,” You say, turning back to the computer which is now conveniently asking a series of questions. After that, you finish the installation pretty quickly and decide you’re done for the day. You and Minho part ways and you find yourself back in your dorm after a stress-induced power walk through the campus. You immediately call your best friend.

“Hey, Y/n,” she picks up.

“Code Pink.”

“I’ll be there in ten.” She hangs up. Nine minutes later your best friend is letting herself into your dorm room.

“Tell me everything.” She takes a seat on your bed. You proceed to tell her about Minho: how handsome he is, how nice he is, how funny he is, God! Are you really gushing about a boy you barely know?

“I’m like, mad! I want to hate him,” you say, from your spot on the bed. “He has to have a fatal flaw, right?”

“For sure, maybe he’s homophobic? Transphobic? Misogynistic? He’s a man! He has to be sexist somehow!”

“Yeah, you’re probably right…” You trail off in thought (and partial disappointment). “Okay, now I gotta just get it out of him, so I can justify my disliking of him, and then boom! Crush gone!” You finally say.

“Easy, now, you wanna watch a movie?” your best friend grins up at you.

Okay. Get evidence he is a shitty guy. Surely this can’t be hard. You can do this.

Except the next time the two of you are studying, he comes in wearing a white t-shirt. Plastered on the front of it are the words “trans rights are human rights” in a bold, italicised font. Okay, not transphobic. You find yourself staring at it, coincidentally staring at his chest. He definitely notices.

“Y/n?” he questions as he sits down next to you.

“Oh, sorry, I was just looking at your t-shirt.”

“Ah, yeah I got it for the pride parade a few months back.” He starts looking through his bag, taking out his notebook.

“Nice, the one in town, on Main Street?”

“Yeah. My best friend is gay, so I went with him and his boyfriend, and a few of our other friends.” He explained. Probably not homophobic either.

“That’s great, I went too, with my friends as well.” You smiled.

The two of you got to work, tackling “ADDS” and “DHCP”. You probably weren’t going to remember what those acronyms stood for in a few hours but for now, it was going well enough. Minho had been scrolling through his phone for the past few minutes as the two of you relaxed, taking a quick break, when he spoke up.

“Damn, have you seen this?” he turns his phone screen to you. “Scotland has made free sanitary products a legal requirement in all public government buildings.”

“I heard about it a few days ago. It’s sick.” You responded. He locked his phone, putting it down on the table. Okay, not actively a misogynist either. Fuck.

You left that study lesson slightly more frustrated at your slightly bigger crush on Lee Minho.

At the third tutoring session with Minho, you were so sure you were going to nip your little crush in the bud. From down the hall, you spot him standing outside the classroom on the phone. As you get closer you seem to realise that he’s mad? Frustrated? You’re not sure.

“I don’t care if it’s a stupid idea, I’m getting him. I’ll pay for everything.” You hear him say, beginning to feel bad for eavesdropping. He must sense your presence as he turns around and shoots you a smile.

“Alright, I have to go, I’ll talk later, love you.” He hangs up and shoves his phone into his pocket.

“Sorry, that was my mom, her and I are disagreeing.” he fake smiles.

“Oh? What about?” you ask.

“I want a cat. Another cat, I already have two. But I just saw a cat on one of those re-homing websites and my heart is screaming at me to get him. So I’m currently trying to convince my mom.” He explains, sheepishly.

“Are you serious?” you deadpan.

“Uh, yes? His name is going to be Dori and I-”

“For god’s sake,” you sigh, admitting defeat.

“Uh, sorry?”

“Why do you have to be so perfect?” You sigh. His eyes widen a little.

“Like seriously,” you continue. “You’re such a nice person, you’re funny, you’re not shitty, you like cats, you have two of them, for Christ’s sake! And if that wasn’t enough, you’re possibly the most attractive man I’ve ever met. Please just tell me what is wrong with you.”

There are a few seconds of silence. A smile begins to grow on his face. You realise what you’ve done.

“You think I’m perfect?” He grins, cockily.

“Great, and now I’m an idiot.”

“You think I’m attractive.” he beams.

“Oh, shut up, surely you must know what you look like,” you sigh, rolling your eyes.

“Well, yes, but there’s a difference between knowing I’m conventionally good-looking and you finding me attractive.”

“And you’re smart,” you groan. He begins to laugh and when you look back towards him, you notice he’s blushing a little. You begin to laugh as well, hoping to break any potentially awkward tension.

“Okay, since I’m so smart, I have a great idea.” He smirks down at you, taking a step forward.

“Oh god,” you begin to dread. Your breath definitely doesn't catch in your throat.

“Let’s skip on the tutoring and I take you out for lunch, how does that sound?”

Your eyes widen as you take in his offer, he may be giving you his best flirtatious look, but under all that pink on his cheeks, you know he’s being serious.

“I’d like that.” You smile.

“So would I.” He responds, eyes shifting nervously down the hallway.

“Do I get to see you dance?” You giggle.

“We’ll see.”

#stray kids #skz #stray kids x you #skz x reader #lee know #lee minho #lee know x reader #stray kids smut #stray kids fluff #stray kids scenarios #skz imagines #lee minho x reader #lee know fluff #minho x you #stray kids fic #skz fluff

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cloudysx · 5 months ago

Text

Kingdom Hearts changed me (Storytime)

While I was drawing, I don't know… I felt like I needed to say what I felt about the Kingdom Hearts license and my art of drawing.

My beginnings, my entry into art school, my graduation diploma

I started to doodle like everyone else when I was a kid, I only started to draw seriously around the age of 8/9 because I was part of a drawing association in my hometown, I started to draw related to video games around 2006 when Zelda Twilight Princess came out on Wii, this game was a big turning point for me because it was one of the first iconic licenses with the character of Link, really I only drew him at the time x). I entered art school when I was 14 because I wanted to become an illustrator (and I still dream of making a living from my art). I didn't have a very good year in the Illustration section because there was already competition between the students who were very gifted in drawing who looked down on the students who were struggling a little too much. I was right in the middle of the people who knew how to draw but who had difficulties and I already had my manga style which was very badly seen at the time. One of my teachers told me "manga is not art". I hated this teacher (spoiler: I still hate her today). The teachers helped the students who were struggling without any more help. I had average or terrible grades because either I couldn't do it or the theme they gave me didn't inspire me. Sometimes I didn't hand in an assignment. It was not easy at all when you had to submit a ton of drawing assignments every 3 weeks outside of general classes, when you came home from school at 6pm, when you were forced to follow a realistic drawing style, when you were not taught the basics of drawing (anatomy, perspective, etc.). I changed departments to go to Computer Graphics and get my graduation diploma. After my studies, I drew from time to time when I had inspiration, whether on paper or on a graphics tablet.

evolution of my drawing style

The discovery of Kingdom Hearts

I discovered the license via Birth by Sleep on PSP, my boyfriend had offered me the game during an outing. I very quickly stopped playing it because I found the game too hard x), I stopped towards the beginning of the game with Ventus. And I didn't touch a game of the license again until 2018 with the first compilation of games on PS3 KH 1.5, I discovered for the first time the first Kingdom Hearts game I had really advanced in the game I had even reached the last level "The End of the World", but I stopped because I had not done enough farming xD, the enemies really did a lot of damage to me, so it very quickly demotivated me and I could not finish the game. A few months later Kingdom Hearts III was released, the trailers shown at E3, etc ... really made me want to because I LOVE Disney, it was the only argument for me to buy the game. x) So I bought the game and I finished it ... and .... even if I had not understood anything about the story, I had liked the game for its Disney universes and for its gameplay. In 2022 I rediscovered all the KH games in compilations on my PC, an acquaintance did regular lives on the KH games after the Kingdom Hearts IV trailer. It made me want to do some too. So I bought KH 1.5 + 2.5 on the epic game store and off I went to do my own marathon. And what a discovery OH MY GOD ! It was just incredible ! It was on this occasion that I finally finished the first Kingdom Hearts, that I discovered Chain of Memories that I didn't finish because I HATE THE GAMEPLAY OF THIS GAME but that I redid this year in 2024, I gave the game a second chance and even if I admit that I'm still not a fan of the gameplay I understood the game better and well now I like this game ! The total discovery of Kingdom Hearts II which was a crazy adventure ! I continued with the theater mode of 358/2 days & Re:coded and replayed and finished all the stories of Birth By Sleep. I then bought KH 2.8 Final Chapter Prologue & Melody Of Memory with once again the total discovery of the games. Overall very good games, and that's how I really started to like the Kingdom Hearts license, and which became my favorite license, despite the criticism because many people find its story complicated to understand. In the meantime I discovered the cinematics of the mobile games Kingdom Hearts Back Cover | Chi | Union Cross | Dark Road and I recently played KH Re:coded & KH 358/2 days on emulator, And in truth it was really cool to have played these games.

A new icon : Sora

When I discovered Kingdom Hearts II, I was totally blown away by Sora's character design, this version of Sora started to inspire me to start drawing again. In 2022 it was the 20th anniversary of the series, after moving to a new region, I was motivated to make a drawing for the 20th anniversary of the European release of Kingdom Hearts (November 15th). I started by making my drawings in July to finish it in November before the deadline. I made 3 illustrations of Sora from KH, KHII & KHIII, it was not perfect but it was a good start to get back into drawing. From January 2023 I started to have a regular rhythm to draw, over the months I started to see a big improvement in my drawings (especially this year in 2024). The character of Sora also made me get back into cosplay after a one-year break in this environment! This character inspires me so much! he has become so important to me. In addition to being endearing, he is always there to put a smile on people's faces, to be in a good mood, to always think of others and to know how to show his true strength when necessary. In short, not a day goes by without an idea coming to my mind around the Kingdom Hearts license.

drawing made in for the 20th anniversary of KH (2022)

one of my drawings made in october 2024)

My evolution in cosplay in the character of Sora (November 2022 - June 2023 - January 2024 - September 2024)

Thank you for coming into my life Kingdom Hearts, you have become such an important license for me, a license that offers me so much inspiration in my creations ! 💖

#kingdom hearts #kh sora #sora #my art #cosplay #storytime

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lightdancingwords · 2 months ago

Text

Crossroads of the Heart - Part Nineteen of ?

Pairings: CJ Braxton x Y/N Female reader

Series Summary: Y/N is a psychology major assigned to shadow CJ at The Stand, unaware he's the one who basically saved her life four years before. CJ is unaware that she's the one who left a notable impact on him over the phone four years ago. As they navigate the work at The Stand, they develop a spark that demands revelation and connection.

Word Count: 4,724

Tags/Warnings: Light fluff, light angst, general mention of saving lives

A/N: Comments, Likes, Reblogs, Kind feedback are always highly appreciated. Please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!

Dividers: credit to @saradika-graphics

Chapter Nineteen: The Meeting

CJ tried to push the conversation with Priya to the back of his mind as the day moved forward. It wasn’t easy. The words still lingered, the weight of his confrontation with Henry Y/L/N pressing on his chest. But work kept him busy, and that was always the best distraction.

The Stand was running at full capacity again. The phone lines were steady, volunteers moving efficiently between calls, and the administrative side of things—grant applications, financial reporting, donor outreach—was piling up like it always did.

CJ settled into his usual routine, working through emails, setting up meetings, making sure everyone had what they needed. He checked in on the volunteers, ensuring the ones who had worked through the storm had taken their much-needed days off.

Through it all, he kept an eye on Y/N.

She was at her usual station, headset on, voice soft and steady as she talked to someone on the other end of the line. He couldn’t hear what she was saying, but he recognized the tone—the patience, the kindness, the quiet strength that had become second nature to her.

It was hard to believe sometimes. That the same person who had once called The Stand for help was now here, on the other side, giving that same hope to someone else.

CJ leaned back in his chair, letting that thought settle in.

She had come so far.

She was incredible.

And she was his.

A knock at his door pulled him from his thoughts.

Priya stepped in, a clipboard in hand. "We’ve got a donor meeting coming up next week. Some of the people from the gala want to see the office firsthand before making their final commitment."

CJ sighed. "Of course they do."

"Don’t sound so thrilled," Priya smirked. "These are big donations. You made an impression."

CJ ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah, yeah. Just tell me when to be charming again."

"Tuesday morning," she said, placing the clipboard on his desk. "Make sure you wear something that screams responsible and dedicated. No leather jackets."

CJ scoffed. "I wear a leather jacket one time to a meeting and suddenly I’m unprofessional?"

"One time?" Priya lifted an eyebrow. "Try four times. And yeah, that’s exactly what I’m saying."

He rolled his eyes but didn’t argue.

Before she could leave, Priya hesitated. "Have you heard from him again?"

CJ didn’t need to ask who she meant.

"No," he said simply. "And I’d like to keep it that way."

She studied him for a moment, then nodded. "Me too."

With that, she left, and CJ exhaled, leaning back in his chair.

For the rest of the afternoon, he threw himself into work.

He caught up on paperwork, met with volunteers, and checked in with the crisis response coordinators. The hours passed quickly, and before he knew it, the sun was dipping lower in the sky, casting long shadows across his office.

Y/N poked her head in as he was shutting down his computer. "Hey, you ready to head home?"

CJ looked up, a slow smile forming. "Yeah. Let’s get out of here."

She stepped inside, watching him carefully. "You okay?"

He hesitated, but only for a second. "Yeah. Just a long day."

Y/N didn’t press. She just stepped closer, wrapping her arms around his waist, resting her head against his chest. "I love you, CJ."

CJ exhaled, wrapping his arms around her, holding her close.

"I love you too," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

Whatever came next, whatever lingering thoughts about Henry or the gala still sat in the back of his mind—it could wait.

Right now, it was just them. And that was enough.

The next morning, CJ arrived at The Stand ready for another day of work, expecting the usual chaos—volunteer schedules, funding requests, case updates.

What he wasn’t expecting was to find an email from their financial director with a subject line that made his stomach drop.

Major Donor Confirmation – Henry Y/L/N

CJ stared at the screen, unblinking.

Then he read the email.

Then he read it again.

Because there was no way this was happening.

But sure enough, right there in black and white, was confirmation that Henry Y/L/N had made a significant donation to The Stand. Not just a one-time gift, either. He had set up a long-term financial commitment, something that would guarantee funding for years.

CJ sat back in his chair, running a hand over his face.

What. The. Hell.

Before he could process it any further, a knock at his door made him look up.

Priya stepped in, holding her phone in one hand and a very skeptical expression on her face. "Tell me you saw the email."

CJ sighed, rubbing his temples. "I saw it."

Priya crossed her arms. "Did you also see the part where Henry Y/L/N is currently outside, waiting to come in?"

CJ’s jaw ticked. "He’s here?"

"Yep," Priya said, unimpressed. "And the reception team wants to know if they should let him in."

CJ didn’t even hesitate. "No."

Priya smirked. "Figured you’d say that."

"I don’t care how much money he’s throwing at us," CJ muttered, standing up. "He’s not coming inside this office."

Priya nodded. "I’ll have security keep him outside, but—CJ? What the hell is this?"

CJ shook his head. "I have no idea. But I guess I’m about to find out."

He grabbed his jacket and stepped around his desk, already making his way to the front entrance.

Priya fell into step beside him. "Are you sure about this?"

"Nope," CJ admitted. "But I’m not letting him get near Y/N. Whatever he wants, he’s gonna have to tell me."

When they reached the front doors, CJ spotted him immediately.

Henry Y/L/N stood near the entrance, completely out of place in his pristine suit, looking like he belonged in a corporate boardroom, not outside a crisis helpline center.

The man turned as CJ stepped out, his expression unreadable.

"Mr. Braxton," Henry greeted smoothly.

"Henry," CJ said flatly. "You’re not coming inside."

Henry nodded, as if he had expected that response. "I didn’t come here to disrupt anything. I just want to talk. Lunch. My treat."

CJ studied him for a long moment, trying to get a read on whatever the hell this was.

The man he had met at the gala had been composed, distant, the same kind of detached authority figure he had expected Y/N’s father to be.

But now?

There was something else in his posture. A tension. A hesitation that hadn’t been there before.

And CJ needed to know why.

He exhaled, crossing his arms. "You think throwing money at this place is going to fix everything?"

Henry shook his head. "No. But it’s a start."

CJ clenched his jaw. He didn’t trust this. Didn’t like it.

But he needed answers.

So finally, after a long pause, he sighed. "Fine. Lunch. But I’m leaving Priya in charge, and if you say one thing out of line, I’m walking out."

"Fair enough," Henry said, his voice even.

CJ turned back to Priya, who had been watching like a hawk the entire time.

"You got things handled?" he asked.

Priya raised a brow. "Do you even need to ask?"

CJ smirked faintly, then turned back to Henry. "Let’s go."

And with that, he followed the man toward his car, still not sure what the hell he was walking into—

But knowing one thing for sure.

He wasn’t going to make this easy.

CJ sat across from Henry Y/L/N in one of the most unnecessarily upscale restaurants he had ever stepped foot in.

Dim lighting. Crisp, white tablecloths. Muted jazz playing in the background. The kind of place where people spent more on a meal than some people made in a week.

It was the exact type of setting CJ hated—all about status, all about being seen, all about proving something.

But he wasn’t here for the food.

He was here for answers.

The waiter approached, filling their water glasses, speaking in a tone far too formal for CJ’s liking.

"Would you like to start with a drink?"

Henry glanced at CJ, then back at the waiter. "Scotch. Neat."

CJ didn’t take his eyes off Henry. "Just water."

The waiter nodded and disappeared.

Henry folded his hands neatly on the table, maintaining a professional ease, his posture just relaxed enough to seem casual—but CJ knew better.

This wasn’t a man who spilled information easily.

Fine.

Neither was CJ.

"So," CJ said, settling back in his chair, studying him. "You made a very generous donation to The Stand."

Henry nodded. "I did."

CJ raised a brow. "Why?"

Henry sighed, taking a measured breath. "Because I believe in what you do. And because I want to support places that change lives."

CJ let out a slow exhale through his nose, not buying it for a second.

"You don’t just throw money at something unless it benefits you in some way," CJ said, his tone even. "So, what do you really want?"

Henry didn’t react, didn’t shift, didn’t waver.

"Mr. Braxton," Henry said, his voice steady, "I’m not here to argue. I’m not here to justify my actions, and I’m not here to undo the past. I know my donation won’t erase anything."

CJ watched him carefully.

This wasn’t the pleasantries from the gala.

This wasn’t the angry man who had stormed into The Stand weeks ago, humiliating his own daughter.

This was… different.

And CJ wasn’t sure what to make of it.

"So, what are you here for?" CJ asked, voice cool.

Henry exhaled slowly, swirling the scotch in his glass before meeting CJ’s gaze.

"I want to understand," he said. "And I’d rather hear it from you than anyone else."

CJ scoffed lightly, tilting his head. "Understand what, exactly?"

Henry held his gaze. "How she got here. Who she became. Who she is to you."

CJ’s jaw ticked slightly, but he kept his expression unreadable.

The waiter arrived, placing their drinks on the table before asking if they were ready to order.

CJ didn’t look at the menu, barely registered the words as he muttered, "Steak. Medium."

Henry ordered something equally expensive, and the waiter disappeared again, leaving the two of them in a tense, unspoken standoff.

CJ tapped his fingers against the table once before exhaling.

"You don’t deserve to know her," he said plainly. "Not after what you put her through."

Henry didn’t react—just nodded slightly, like he expected that answer.

"And yet," Henry said, "here I am. Trying."

CJ studied him, his fingers tightening around his water glass.

Henry was… different than the last time they spoke. Not excusing his past, not trying to justify it.

Just sitting with it.

And CJ didn’t know if that was better or if it was just another performance.

"Trying isn’t enough," CJ said finally. "Not with her."

Henry nodded, taking a sip of his drink.

The silence stretched between them, thick with everything unsaid.

CJ didn’t trust him.

Didn’t trust this entire situation.

But he had agreed to this lunch.

So, for now?

He’d see where it led.

CJ wasn’t sure what he expected Henry Y/L/N to say next.

Maybe another calculated attempt at justification. Maybe a hollow apology dressed in carefully chosen words.

But Henry didn’t do either.

Instead, he took another slow sip of his scotch, set the glass down neatly, and exhaled. "I know trying isn’t enough."

CJ arched a brow, unimpressed. "Then what exactly are you doing?"

Henry tapped his fingers lightly against the table, considering his words before speaking. "I’ve spent a long time believing I was right. That my way was the best way. That my expectations were what she needed." He exhaled. "I see now that I was wrong."

CJ’s jaw ticked slightly, his fingers tightening around his water glass. "You ‘see now’? You humiliated her. Made her feel like she wasn’t enough for you. That she had to earn your love. And now, just because you realize it, you think that’s supposed to mean something?"

Henry didn’t flinch. "No," he said simply. "It doesn’t mean anything unless she wants it to."

CJ exhaled, leaning back in his chair, crossing his arms. "So, what, you donated to The Stand to buy redemption?"

Henry shook his head. "I donated because it’s the only thing I know how to do. I can’t go back and change the past. But I can help make sure the place that saved her life can keep doing the same for others."

CJ stared at him for a long moment.

There was something different in the way Henry spoke now—less defensive, less entitled.

For the first time, he wasn’t acting like a man who thought he deserved forgiveness.

He was acting like a man who knew he didn’t.

CJ tapped his fingers against the table, still not buying it, but also not entirely dismissing it either.

"So why am I here?" CJ asked. "You could’ve sent a check and moved on. Instead, you asked me to lunch. Why?"

Henry studied him, voice even. "Because I know she won’t talk to me. And I wanted to talk to you first."

CJ narrowed his eyes slightly. "And if I tell you to leave her alone?"

Henry sighed, rubbing his thumb over the rim of his glass. "Then I will."

CJ didn’t move, didn’t speak, just watched him, trying to find the angle, the manipulation that had to be hiding underneath all of this.

But it wasn’t there.

Henry was simply… waiting.

And CJ wasn’t sure what to do with that.

Finally, he exhaled sharply. "She doesn’t need you. Not now, not ever."

Henry nodded once. "I know."

CJ leaned forward slightly, his voice measured, sharp. "But if she ever does—if she ever chooses to hear you out—you’d better be ready to prove you deserve even a fraction of her time."

Henry held his gaze. "I intend to."

CJ let that sit for a moment before shaking his head. "You wasted a lot of years."

Henry exhaled, his voice low. "I know."

The waiter returned, setting their plates down with polished precision, completely unaware of the heavy conversation hanging between them.

CJ picked up his fork but didn’t move right away, still studying the man across from him.

This wasn’t over.

But for now?

He’d eat. He’d listen.

And he’d figure out exactly what Henry Y/L/N’s next move was going to be.

The food was impeccable, plated with precision, the kind of meal people raved about.

CJ barely tasted it.

His focus remained on Henry, watching his every move, waiting for the catch. The ulterior motive. The moment where this whole thing turned into something self-serving.

But Henry Y/L/N just cut into his steak, chewed thoughtfully, and spoke with the controlled ease of a man who had spent his entire life moving through high society, knowing exactly how to present himself.

CJ hated that.

"So," Henry said after a few minutes, "how long have you and Y/N been together?"

CJ’s jaw ticked slightly, but he didn’t hesitate. "A while."

Henry gave a knowing nod. "Long enough to know her well, then."

CJ set his fork down, tilting his head slightly. "What are you getting at?"

Henry met his gaze. "I know I don’t deserve another chance. I know I failed her as a father. But I also know that if there’s anyone who can tell me if she would ever be open to hearing from me again… it’s you."

CJ exhaled, rolling his shoulders. "I told you—she doesn’t need you."

Henry didn’t argue. "I believe that."

"Then why are we having this conversation?"

Henry sighed, setting his utensils down neatly. "Because whether she needs me or not isn’t the question. The question is… does she want to hear from me?"

CJ clenched his jaw, debating whether to just shut this down right now.

But instead, he leaned forward slightly, voice firm. "And what happens if I say no? If I tell you she wouldn’t want anything to do with you?"

Henry was quiet for a moment, then nodded. "Then I leave her alone."

CJ searched his face for any sign of dishonesty, but Henry didn’t waver.

And that—more than anything—unnerved him.

Because for all the arrogance, all the entitlement CJ had expected from this man, he was surprisingly… restrained.

Like someone who had already accepted the loss.

CJ tapped his fingers against the table, thinking.

Does she want to hear from him?

CJ honestly didn’t know.

She hadn’t answered his last text. Hadn’t even decided what to do with it.

But the hesitation in her told him one thing for certain—Henry still lived somewhere in the back of her mind.

And that pissed CJ off.

Because she deserved better.

Finally, after a long silence, CJ exhaled. "You want my advice? Stop waiting for her to come to you. If you really mean any of this, then write it down. Say what you need to say. Let her decide if she ever wants to read it."

Henry considered that, nodding slowly. "A letter."

"Yeah," CJ said, leaning back. "At least then, she has a choice. Instead of you just waiting around, hoping I’ll hand you the answer you want."

Henry was silent for a long moment before picking up his glass, swirling the amber liquid inside. "You’re a smart man, Mr. Braxton."

CJ smirked slightly. "I know."

Henry let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. "No wonder she loves you."

CJ stilled, his grip tightening around his fork for just a fraction of a second.

Henry held his gaze. "I see it now. The way you talk about her. The way you protect her, even when she’s not here. You’re not just with her. You fight for her."

CJ narrowed his eyes slightly. "She’s worth fighting for."

"She always was," Henry admitted. "I just didn’t see it in time."

CJ exhaled, glancing down at his barely touched food before sighing. "Maybe you still can."

Henry nodded once, then picked up his knife and fork again.

The conversation wasn’t over.

But for now?

CJ let himself eat, let himself process, let himself decide how much of this he was actually going to tell Y/N.

Because whether Henry Y/L/N had truly changed or not, one thing was certain—

CJ wasn’t going to let him hurt her ever again.

The rest of the meal passed with a slow, careful ease.

CJ remained cool, reserved, keeping the conversation neutral when necessary, redirecting when Henry veered into too personal territory. He answered what he felt like answering and dismissed what he didn’t.

And Henry?

He didn’t push.

He didn’t force explanations or expect CJ to give him something he hadn’t earned. Instead, he seemed to be taking his time, processing, as if he were truly thinking over what CJ had said about writing to Y/N.

That didn’t mean CJ trusted him.

It just meant—for now—he was watching.

When the check came, Henry paid, as promised. There was no lingering small talk, no forced goodbyes. Just a steady nod as they stood outside the restaurant.

"I appreciate your time," Henry said finally, adjusting the cuff of his jacket.

CJ let out a slow breath, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I didn’t do it for you."

A small smile tugged at Henry’s lips. "I know."

CJ gave him one last long look before turning on his heel and walking away. He didn’t wait for Henry to say anything else, didn’t bother looking back.

The conversation was over.

At least, for now.

By the time CJ returned to The Stand, the office was in full swing. The afternoon shift had come in, volunteers were at their stations, and the steady hum of conversation filled the space.

It was grounding. Normal.

Exactly what CJ needed after that lunch.

Priya spotted him the second he walked in and raised a brow. "You survived."

"Barely," CJ muttered, making a beeline for his office.

Priya followed. "And?"

CJ sighed, shutting the door behind them before leaning against his desk. "He wanted to talk."

Priya crossed her arms. "About?"

"Y/N. The past. His regrets." CJ rubbed a hand over his jaw. "He wants to reach out, but he knows she won’t listen."

Priya studied him. "And what did you say?"

CJ exhaled. "Told him to write her a letter. Put his words on paper instead of waiting around, expecting someone else to fix it for him."

Priya tilted her head. "And do you think he will?"

CJ hesitated. "I don’t know. Maybe."

"And are you going to tell Y/N?"

CJ was quiet for a long moment before shaking his head. "Not yet."

Priya nodded, unsurprised. "You’re protecting her."

CJ sighed. "Yeah. I don’t want her dealing with this unless it actually goes somewhere. If he really follows through, if he actually means it—then maybe. But right now? It’s just words."

Priya smirked slightly. "I think you scared the hell out of him."

CJ shrugged. "Good."

Priya chuckled before pushing off the desk. "Well, let me know if the next step of this drama unfolds. In the meantime, you’ve got work to do."

CJ groaned. "Of course I do."

She winked before stepping out, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

CJ sat down at his desk, exhaling slowly.

He wasn’t sure what came next.

But one thing was certain—if Henry Y/L/N thought this was going to be easy, he was dead wrong.

The rest of the workday moved at a steady, productive pace—exactly how CJ liked it.

The conversation from lunch still lingered in the back of his mind, but work kept it at bay. There were schedules to finalize, donation paperwork to process, and ongoing volunteer training that needed his attention.

So he buried himself in it.

Emails, calls, budget reviews—the usual.

He vaguely registered the shift change, the evening crew coming in to take over as the day shift signed off, but he didn’t really notice it. His focus was locked on the spreadsheets in front of him, double-checking budget allocations for upcoming projects.

He didn’t even realize how much time had passed until a soft knock at his door.

“CJ,” Y/N’s familiar voice came through. “Workday’s over.”

CJ blinked, glancing at the time on his screen. Huh.

Y/N smirked as she stepped inside. “You’re so deep in manager mode, you didn’t even notice the shift change, did you?”

CJ sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Apparently not.”

She crossed her arms, amusement dancing in her eyes. “Priya already left. Miles took off. Even Gabby is gone. You’re the only one still working.”

CJ ran a hand over his face. “You really have to call me out like this?”

“Absolutely,” Y/N said, walking over to him. She perched on the edge of his desk, studying him for a moment before tilting her head. “So, how was your fancy lunch with the investor?”

CJ hesitated for just a second before replying. “Went well. Secured a hefty donation. Definitely worth the trip.”

It wasn’t a lie. Just not the full truth.

Y/N hummed. “You survived a high-end lunch and came back with money? I’m impressed.”

“What can I say? I’m very persuasive.”

She smiled, then reached out, resting a hand on his arm. “Come home with me, Mr. Manager. No more work today.”

CJ exhaled, looking at her—really looking at her. The way she was already half-pulling him from his chair, the way her eyes softened just for him.

And suddenly? Work didn’t seem all that important.

He smirked, standing up and pulling her into his arms. “You win.”

Y/N grinned, looping her arms around his neck. “I always do.”

CJ kissed her—slow and deep, letting himself sink into the moment, into her.

Then, without another glance at his desk, his emails, or the paperwork waiting for him—

He took her hand, and they walked out together.

Because work would always be here.

But home was with her.

By the time they got home, CJ felt the tension of the day finally begin to slip from his shoulders.

The conversation with Henry, the weight of managing The Stand, the constant mental calculations of what needed to be done—it all faded as soon as he stepped into their apartment with Y/N by his side.

This was what mattered.

“You sit,” CJ said, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple as she kicked off her shoes. “I’m cooking tonight.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Feeling fancy?”

He smirked. “Not fancy, just simple and good.”

She didn’t argue, just smiled softly before settling onto one of the stools at the kitchen counter, watching as he moved around with practiced ease.

CJ wasn’t a gourmet chef, but he could put together a solid meal. Tonight, he opted for something easy but satisfying—garlic butter chicken, roasted vegetables, and a side of creamy mashed potatoes. The kind of food that was warm, comforting, and exactly what they needed after a long day.

Y/N leaned her chin on her hand, watching him. “You know, I like when you take care of me like this.”

CJ glanced at her over his shoulder, smirking. “Yeah?”

She nodded. “Yeah. It’s nice.”

He didn’t say it out loud, but he loved taking care of her. It was something that came naturally, something he wanted to do, not out of obligation but because she mattered.

Once dinner was ready, he plated everything carefully and set it in front of her before sitting down across from her. They ate in comfortable silence, the kind where words weren’t necessary, just the occasional glance, a small smile exchanged over the rim of a glass.

When they were done, CJ took care of the dishes—ignoring Y/N’s halfhearted protests—and then pulled her to the couch.

It wasn’t long before they were curled up together, Y/N tucked against his chest, her fingers tracing lazy circles on his arm as the soft glow of the lamp cast a warm light over the room.

CJ let himself relax, his hand idly running through her hair, his other arm wrapped around her waist.

“You’re quiet,” Y/N murmured after a while.

CJ hummed. “Just savoring this.”

She tilted her head up slightly. “This?”

“You,” he said simply.

Y/N’s lips curved into a slow smile before she snuggled in closer, pressing a kiss to his collarbone.

CJ tightened his hold on her, breathing her in, feeling the steady rhythm of her heartbeat against him.

This was all he needed. Just her. Just them.

And for the rest of the night, he let himself have it.

Night had settled in, the apartment quiet except for the soft rustling of sheets as CJ pulled Y/N closer in bed. The warmth of her against him, the steady rise and fall of her breath—it was the most grounding thing in the world.

She fit so perfectly in his arms, like she belonged there, like there was nowhere else either of them were ever meant to be.

CJ let out a slow breath, his fingers tracing absentminded patterns against her back. The weight of the day had faded, replaced by something lighter, something softer.

Y/N sighed, shifting slightly to press her face into his chest. "Mmm, you’re so warm."

CJ chuckled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Good. Means you’ll stay right here."

She smiled against his skin, her hand sliding over his heart, fingers resting there like she could feel every beat.

For a while, neither of them spoke. They didn’t need to. The stillness, the quiet understanding between them, said more than words ever could.

As sleep began to pull them under, CJ pressed a kiss to the top of her head, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I love you so much."

Y/N stirred slightly, her fingers curling into his shirt. Her response came just as soft, just as full of meaning.

"I love you too, CJ."

His grip on her tightened for a second, as if holding onto the moment, before he finally let his eyes close.

And with her in his arms, CJ drifted into sleep knowing that this—her, them—was the only thing in his life that had ever made perfect sense.

Tag List: @kmc1989, @ozwriterchick, @star-yawnznn

Want to be a part of this tag list or others? Message me here! And check out the other story I’m writing!

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selene-lunette · 10 months ago

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Fumito Ueda's interview from the 5th issue of PSM (July/August 2024)

Interview done by John Kaminari for PlayStation Magazine (Italy). I translated it to the best of my abilities.

He who transformed video games into art. "PSM" had the great opportunity to interview Fumito Ueda exclusively, after a silence that lasted many years.

There are giants (colossi) of the video gaming industry who mass-produce games merely to fill a schedule increasingly saturated with cookie-cutter products, and then there are small giants (colossi) like Fumito Ueda who, with only three games under his belt, developed for Sony Computer Entertainment, can undoubtedly be considered among the most talented and innovative game creators of all time. After leaving Japan Studio, Fumito Ueda founded the independent studio genDESIGN which, in the upcoming months, will present us with something that could rewrite the rules of video games yet again, and make our favorite hobby even more similar to a work of art of inestimable value. When we interviewed him he spoke to us about him as a gamer, as a game designer, as an artist and as a person. And he told us many anecdotes that make us understand the reason for some of his choices along his path, even painful ones. Because Fumito Ueda isn't a game designer... he is an artist who makes video games.

When did your "first contact" with video games happen? I think it occured with Block Kuzushi or Space Invaders. I remember playing both around the same time. Back then my parents ran a café and they had these two arcade video games there. However, I only remember playing them a few times.

What was your first experience in the video game industry? I was a computer graphics animator at Warp Co., Ltd.. Before that I had an experience in the creation of computer graphics at a movie company, but that was my first time working on a video game. My first experience with Warp Co., Ltd. involved the movement of the main character Laura in the CG sequence added in the 3DO version of D's Dining Table Director's Cut. However, it consisted of only a few cuts. I later became the main CG animator for Enemy Zero.

What prompted you to start working as a game designer? The reason I left Warp Co., Ltd. was due to the fact I wanted to create works that I had designed myself. I was lucky enough to be able to do this at Sony Computer Entertainment (Sce) and I was assigned the role of game designer and game director.

Did you know from the beginning that you wanted to become a game designer or did you want to take up another career? When I was in college I wanted to become a contemporary artist. The reason I got into the video game industry was primarily to a earn a living. Obviously I loved video games and I was what everyone today would call an "otaku", but back then I wouldn't have thought of making it my career.

Simply put, what kind of person is Fumito Ueda? I'm someone who can't help but feel anxious if I'm not constantly creating, even if it's something small.

How did you get involved with Japan Studio? After leaving Warp Co., Ltd., I had started developing Ico as an independent production, but I was worried because I didn't have enough money. In 1996, while I was looking for a job as a freelance CG artist, I turned to Sony Computer Entertainment. At first I approached Sce with the intention of simply helping out with the CG production for their games, but I was asked if I wanted to continue developing Ico with them, no longer as an independent production but as an internal Sce project. I jumped at this opportunity and a production team was formed. Ico was completed in 2001.

How did the idea of Ico come about? The idea was to create an heroic fantasy game similar in setting to Resident Evil, which had just been released in that period and which adopted a fixed camera system. Furthermore, at the time, I wondered if it would've been possible to feature NPCs' animations (non-playable characters) using an artificial intelligence, like in Ganbare Morikawa-kun No. 2, Hello Pac-Man and Wonder Project J', which I personally liked a lot. Eventually Ico was born.

I think Shadow of the Colossus is the most pioneering game ever made. Can you tell us an anecdote about your production process? While producing the game, I imagined that the henkei collision technique would become common in future action video games. And this was precisely my strongest motivation: to reach the goal faster than anyone else.

[There's a little section explaining the henkei collision technique] What is the "henkei collision"? In Shadow of the Colossus the playable character Wander is able to cling to the bodies of gigantic bosses, which made the interaction with the colossal enemy very "intense" and required a very different method of management and control compared to other video games. In English the term could be translated to "deforming collision".

I heard that the development of The Last Guardian was long and difficult. Without giving too much away, could you tell us what happened during that time? The game development engineers wanted to create something overly sophisticated. Using those various technologies was very difficult (like Ico's hand-holding or the deforming collision from Shadow of the Colossus). I think there hasn't been much investment in the foundations that support that advanced engineering; on the contrary, they were rather neglected and the company management did not fully understand the importance of issues of this caliber.

What impact did the 2011 Fukushima tragedy have on Fumito Ueda's sensitivity as an artist? Immediately after the earthquake I couldn't help but feel a decline in power in the entertainment world... and I'm not just talking about video games. However, I felt that my mission was to continue to fulfill my role and in fact I continued to create. Regardless of the type of "unpredictable" difficulties that one may encounter in life, such as the Coronavirus for example, people adapt to the changing environment and little by little this becomes everyday life again. It is something very precious for us living beings, but also a little scary I would say.

What are your sources of inspiration outside of the video game industry? Are there any artists you particularly admire? I think there has been strong video games influences, but I'm convinced that movies, especially anime, have also greatly influenced my works. Not only by legendary Japanese animators, such as Isao Takahata, Hayao Miyazaki and Yasuo Otsuka, but also by manga and anime artists, both national and international, such as Moebius, Katsuhiro Otomo, Paul Grimault and René Laloux.

Thinking back to the games you created, I can imagine that you have a great appreciation for European art and architecture. Do you also like Italy? I actually don't have much knowledge of European architecture, but I like Italy. I also really appreciate Italian food and have been riding a Vespa for about 35 years. I went to Rome once while I was a member of Warp in 1995 and I visited yet again in 2017.

What do you think is more important to be successful in the video game industry today: money or ideas? Ideas are a means to solve most problems, not just economic ones; I'm speaking in general, not just referring to the world of video games.

What games have you enjoyed in recent years? They are not exactly new releases, but some time ago I was very engaged in Humanity and PowerWash Simulator. The first game embodies the charm of programming, while the second is a game that extracts the principle of pleasure hidden in everyday life.

[Two of his top 3 were also added]

TOP 3: Fumito Ueda's favorite places in Tōkyō 1) Tōkyō Gate Bridge - Reiwa Island 2) Tōkyō's Museum of Contemporary Art 3) Daikanyama Tsutaya Books

TOP 3: best video games of all time according to Fumito Ueda 1) Prince of Persia (1989) 2) Virtua Fighter (1993) 3) Half-Life 2 (2004)

#fumito ueda #gendesign #team ico #ico #shadow of the colossus #sotc #the last guardian #tlg

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lookingviewer · 13 days ago

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Day19: "Has OW or its characters made any kind of positive impact on your life?"

Hmm. Yes. You could say they gave me a breath of air and let out all the emotions that I rarely expressed: crying. I actually rarely cry, so. It's good. Well, and I also had a good laugh at the jokes, the situation and other things (I'm not afraid of Gore). But also understanding how I look from the outside (Bucks and her unwillingness to be an adult/her infantilism).

But I also laughed a lot and thought a lot.

And new friends, of course! I'm still friends with @quamaii, and she helped me when I had problems with Tumblr.

And my continuation in drawing, trying your drawing style, and experimenting ✨

OH, AND YES!!! They helped me a lot at the university too! So, they also had a good influence on my work✨

For example: on the assignment on Computer Graphics (Carrot, you remember my 3D room Iggy? It was an assignment to create a 3D room. They accepted my work!)

Besides, I really wanted to create a 3D model of Orlam back then. And for the final assignment, I made an animation (but with the help of 3D Carrot, heh😅)

Or in Media Design: creating a business card, a card, a website, etc.

How exactly? I don't know if you remember my joke, where I wanted to clean Orlam's apartment. So. It was this idea that turned into a business card, and the creation of everything! The teacher said that they still remember my business card (because there was a fox mascot, heh.)

Military Cleaning* (Looks like I mixed up the letters while I was writing)

Well, at least I was very interested in working on it!

#30DaysofOW #our wonderland

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boydepartment · 2 years ago

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description- 4 weeks 4 different games & 4 different boys! mini horror stories based off different horror games!

happy upcoming october everyone!

taglist- open: comment, dm, or send an ask to be added ❤️

week 1… choi yeonjun + the closing shift - chilla’s art

-> everyday you seemingly mess up with your manager, no matter what- he always had something negative to say to you... about you. it made you start hating work, until he assigned a cute guy to help train you better. you and yeonjun work pretty late nights… everything was great until things kept going missing, yeonjun kept having unfortunate things happen to him, and you both start feeling like you’re not alone even if the cafe is presumably empty…

warnings- the reader gets stalked, horror, suspense

wc- not decided

will be posted by october 7th

🩸🩸🩸

week 2… nishimura riki + five nights at freddy’s - scott cawthon

-> summer job this, summer job that, blah blah blah. you and riki have been friends since you were kids, both your parents wanted you to have a summer job. you finally got one at an old pizzeria you and riki used to frequent. he noticed as you worked there, the more tired you looked. riki hated watching you slowly lose yourself, so on your third day, riki decides to prank you and break in… imagine how much that’ll backfire on both of you as the night goes on.

warnings- crack(kinda), horror, suspense

wc- not decided

will be posted by october 14th

🩸🩸🩸

week 3… han jisung + doki doki literature club - dan salvato

-> you trick your boyfriend into playing a horror game on felix’s pc. at first you’re giggling evilly as you watched han start getting really attached to the characters. as the hours go on you watch as your boyfriend slowly as he starts losing his mind over the seemingly cutesy game turning into a traumatic gameplay experience, but what happens when your friend’s computer actually starts glitching? and what happens if you become a target to the game?

warnings- the basic doki doki literature club warnings (MENTIONS ((not graphic details)) of suicide + sh), horror, suspense

wc- not decided

will be posted by october 21st

🩸🩸🩸

week 4… jake sim + slenderman - blue isle studios

-> jake knew you were not the camping type. spending the night in a tent does not sound ideal to you, especially in the middle of the woods. however, your boyfriend means the world to you. to humor him, you decide to go camping with him. jake is ecstatic to spend time with you, as you both make it to the campsite, you start to notice weird drawings on the trees. and as night approaches you start to feel watched, your boyfriend fails to notice the tall figure in the trees.

warnings- horror, suspense, this one won’t really be as intense as the others.

wc- not decided

will be posted by october 28th

🩸🩸🩸

+ special treat: bangchan + halloween headcanons

will be posted on halloween :)

warnings- none

wc- 300-500

🩸🩸🩸

taglist: @yourmomscuntis2tighy @ikeumi @mikuzakii @leetaste

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sereindreams · 2 years ago

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HANDPRINTS || RK800 x Reader ♡

“Oh, what can I do? Life is beautiful, but you don't have a clue. Sun and ocean blue. Their magnificence, it don't make sense to you”

Summary: Your work life had always been stressful, and being a part of the DPD had its ups and downs. In fact, it was mostly downs. That was until you were assigned to work on a case of rising deviants with an old associate and a charming, young android. Suddenly, you couldn't wait to show up at work. Your days were no longer filled with quiet solitude, but of warm laughter and shared breaths. The very thing that betrayed all sense of life offered you a gateway to a new appreciation of the world, and the love for things within it.

AN: Welcome back to the reader being a lovesick idiot and Connor being an oblivious little deviant, thanks for sticking around!

Word Count: 4.3k

Reader Pronouns: She/Her (AFAB). NO USE OF Y/N!

Warnings: GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS OF ANDROID SUICIDE. Reader getting a little traumatised (as you do). Reader also getting injured :( The usual DBH crime scene gore is relatively detailed. Please be responsible in your media consumption.

- Chapter 3:

He didn't return to your desk after that.

You would catch short glances at him, observing with interest as he wandered around the precinct, seemingly in his own mind. At times, it felt like you were a bird watcher in some old-school, absurd nature documentary they used to run on TV. And the next day, it was much the same. He didn't speak to you when the two of you passed one another in the hall, and you hadn't seen him since.

Early in the morning, your trio had been requested to Captain Fowler's office.

It was a spacier room, with plants and filing cabinets galore. In the centre sat a large desk with a computer, walls decorated with sporting images and a single image of what you had presumed to be his family. Despite the clearcut value of the room, there was a chill that crept through it. Especially when you were left to your own devices while Fowler retreated to grab the other two.

Your fingers fiddled with one another, planted squarely in your lap. You could barely make out the blurred outlines of their bodies as the two climbed up the stairs, Hank pushing the door open. Your eyes snapped back to Fowler, who had taken a seat on his plush office chair. Hank took a seat beside you, and you kept your gaze trained on the desk. The smallest part of you yearned to look back, as you could feel Connor's heavy presence standing just a few feet behind you. You could imagine that, just like you, his hands were crossed meekly in his lap.

Usually, when Fowler invites you to his office, it includes whiskey and a brief congratulations. It's always at the end of the day, and he lifts his feet onto his desk with a grunt. He'll invite you to help yourself to a glass of the bitey, amber liquid, but you always decline. Then, he'll talk about the case you were on, and that you had done a good job. The whole ordeal lasts about half an hour maximum, and every month or so, you'll repeat the ritual over again.

But this time, he looked too concerned for his own good. A vein was practically bulging from his forehead, his eyebrows were drawn tensely like a bowstring that was about to snap. His tie had been done tightly, face pink possibly from the lack of oxygen.

As soon as Hank took his seat, his intentions were evident.

"I've got ten new cases involving androids on my desk every day We've always had isolated incidents, old ladies losing their android maids... that sort of crap", his coffee cup was slammed into the table, "But now, we're getting reports of assaults and even homicides, like that guy last night. This isn't just CyberLife's problem anymore. It's now a criminal investigation, and we've got to deal with it before shit hits the fan. I want you both to investigate these cases and see if there's any link"

Hank jumped from his seat, causing you to startle, as we waved his arms like a madman, "Why me!? Why do I have to deal with this shit? I am the least qualified cop in the country to handle this case. I know jack shit about Androids, Jeffrey, I can barely change the settings on my phone!"

"Everyone's overloaded! With the detective's help, I think you're perfectly qualified for this investigation!". Fowler's tone was defensive, his arms splayed in front of him.

Hank only snapped back, "Bullshit! The truth is nobody wants to investigate these fuckin' androids and you left me holdin' the bag with a fucking lonely ass babysitter from homicide!". He fully leapt from his seat, taking a stand and asserting his hands onto his hips sharply, dumbfounded. You remained quiet and attentive, ever so slightly offended.

"CyberLife sent over this android to help with the investigation. It's a state-of-the-art prototype, it'll act as your partner!-"

"No. fucking. way! I don't need a partner, and certainly not this plastic prick!" Hank quarrelled, voice becoming louder with the second. Even with the soundproof walls, you were beginning to worry that with the view inside, other officers were getting a front-row ticket to the spectacle unfolding in front of them. At times, you could feel the floor beneath you shaking underneath your feet.

"Hank, you're seriously starting to piss me off! You're a police lieutenant, you're supposed to do what I say and shut your goddamn mouth! Maybe you do need a fucking babysitter! And I pity her, having to deal with your shit!". His hand whipped towards you, shaking it vigorously to get across his point. Connor had not opened his mouth throughout the whole affair.

"You know what my goddamn mouth has to say to you, huh!?"

Fowler raised his hand, pressing it towards Hank in an attempt to stop him in his tracks. Your eyes darted between the men, expanding in disbelief. "I'll pretend like I didn't just hear that, so I don't have to add more pages to your disciplinary folder, 'cause it already looks like a fucking novel. This conversation is over!"

Hank only leant down to Fowler's desk, gritting his words through bared teeth, "Jeffrey, Jesus Christ! Why are you doing this to me? You know how much I hate these fuckin' things! Why are you doing this to me?". You knew of Lieutenant Anderson's disposition towards androids, in fact, everyone knew about it, but in all your years of occasional questioning, you had never once reached a single solid conclusion. You felt like a bad detective for it, unable to wave away the dark cloud of mystery that followed Hank.

"Listen, I've had just enough of your bitchin'. Either you do your job or hand in your badge. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got work to do".

With rage burning in his eyes, Hank marched out of the room without a word. You finally pivoted in your chair to face Connor, standing just as you had envisioned him. Connor's lips parted, wavering in making a decision. But then they shut as if he had decided not to say anything.

His lips looked good pressed together, you decided.

"Come on, Connor" you called, breaking the silence, "Captain Fowler". After nodding towards the captain, you put your hands onto the arms of your seat and pushed your body from it. With your shoulders slumped and gaze cast downwards, you trudged to the door, placing a hesitant hand on the silver handle. As you opened it, a gust of fresh air burst into the room, Connor treading lightly behind you.

Beside Fowler's office was the detainment area, a grim sight that you had to walk by every day. With every step you took, your body was followed by heavy, helpless eyes. A tinge of sadness washed over you as you saw the dejected expressions and broken spirits, and in particular, the deviant from the day before. You couldn't help but pause before the window, folding your arms across your chest. You observed from a short distance away, doing your best not to let your emotions cloud your judgement. He killed a man, you thought. But then again, you felt no pity towards that man.

Connor, too, stopped by the window, but unlike you, practically pressed himself to the glass, leaving only an inch or two between himself and it. The deviant stared at Connor with a particular look of distaste, barely recognising your presence.

“They’re gonna destroy me”

“I’m sorry, it’s not what I wanted” Connor responded, words coming out as nothing more than a forced whisper, “but there’s nothing I can do”

The silence was eery, the two glaring back at each other, the only thing separating them was a badge, a title, and a piece of glass. Otherwise, they were effectively the same, with different missions. “I know there’s something you didn’t tell me. I need to know before they take you away. The sculpture you made… tell me more about it”

A bead of blood had dried across the deviants eyebrow, leaving it crusted and caked into his skin. Before he spoke, it moved only faintly, “I’m going to die”

You frowned, detecting the oddly prophetic tone. Connors face was still, analysing the words with care. He then turned on his heel after concluding he would not be able to pry anymore information from the deviant, and that’s when it happened.

Thud.

Your body snapped into action, throwing your head back towards the window with a newfound attention. And what you saw left you reeling, as the deviants head began to collide with the glass. With every crack against the glass, you could feel your facade begin to crumble. One step back, crack, two steps back, thud. And you stood there helplessly, feet planted against the floor. The blue blood once trickling from his forehead began to gush, dripping down the window with ease. Mouth gaping open, you looked back to Connor, who, himself, was observing the incident take place.

Officers had shoved past you both, rushing into the room and calling for the door to be opened.

But within a moment, it was over, body collapsing to the floor. Any life that had inhabited the deviant had been sucked out instantly, eyes rolling back into his head like a rag-doll. His skin has lost its colour immediately, fading from a vibrant tone to something more akin to ash.

Nobody spoke. It was if, for that one second, everything had been caught in suspension in time. Like a strange anomaly had gripped you all. There was a mutual understanding.

“I’ll call CyberLife” one of them managed to choke out, “Clean this mess up”. Your heart ached, and as you looked down at your sweaty palms, your hands were shaking violently. Not one officer held sympathy for the android, but rather saw it as an inconvenience of evidence.

At that point, you were already ready to go, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move. Movement felt like it would kill you, and if you moved, the only person that seemingly cared about the deviant would be abandoning him. It would be leaving him to be subjected to countless hours of dissection and picking apart. You couldn't abandon him like that.

A soft hand was placed on your shoulder, reassuring in its conviction, “It’s okay, Detective. Let’s get you a cup of tea”. That hand was guiding you more than you could control your own body, you realised, as you entered the lunch area.

To your dismay, your eyes fell onto Gavin and another officer, slumped over with a steaming coffee cup in hand. Connor didn't seem to notice much at first, trained on his mission of crafting you the perfect, most relaxing cup of tea. You shuddered, images still flashing violently through your mind. He had pulled his hand away from you, only for a moment, appearing as though it was a regretful action. Electricity tingled from beneath your skin, hairs standing. He grimaced, dragging his hand across the kettle, unphased at the heat radiating from it. After securing a mug from the top cupboard, he placed a teabag, sugar, and water into the cup, before finally adding milk. Giving the solution a quick stir, he turned back to you with a vague smile, freckles rising on his rosy cheeks. His eyes, that mesmerising shade of deep brown, met yours, causing a gentle blush to creep up your cheeks.

Fuck, despite the situation, you could have burned an image of him like that into your retinas, content to only stare at that for the rest of your life.

"Thank you" you replied, your voice slightly trembling, betraying the butterflies that danced in your stomach. Your heartstrings tightened, feeling the breath being knocked out of you. As you brought the liquid to your lips, you parted them, and let the warm feeling fill you up, from your toes to your fingers.

"Feel better?" he inquired, tone gravelly.

You nodded quickly, feeling all confidence dissipate at that moment.

But the moment was, of course, cut short, your ears filled with the sound of a breathy scoff. Your ears perked up, and you turned to the sound. Your eyes landed on his gangly fingers first, positioned over the top of his cup with a certain dominance, before landing on his stubbly, five-o'clock shadow.

"Fuck.. look at that! Our friend the plastic detective is back in town!" he prodded, slipping himself off the stool and bringing his hands together in a slow, taunting clap. You gritted your teeth, clenching the mug within your hands until your palms were red and raw, like freshly spilled blood. "Congratulations on last night, very impressive".

He then sat back down, eagerly waiting for a response.

You tried so very hard to make out what Connor was going to do next, but it was impossible. You took another sip of tea, hoping it would settle your rising nerves.

"Hello, Detective Reed" he greeted.

Gavin closed in with a ravenous look, closing in on the both of you, particularly Connor, like a predator that had located its prey, and was ready to tear it apart. In a way, office drama was exactly like high school, and Gavin was the stereotypical bully with absolutely nothing better to do with his time. Though, your parents always told you that bullies were just kids with big feelings and big issues in their own life. You couldn't exactly say the same for Gavin.

"Never seen an android like you before. What model are you?"

You stepped forward assertively, taking your place beside Connor like a protective mother. You knew for a fact Gavin was just messing with Connor, his model written in a bold font across his jacket.

"RK800. I'm a prototype"

Gavin's bushy eyebrows arched in amusement, "A prototype", and turned back to the other officer while gesturing to Connor. "Android detective... So, machines are gonna... replace us all... is that it? Hey! Bring me a coffee, dipshit!". His order was the last straw, causing you to place down the mug so harshly that liquid flew out, splashing right onto his jacket. "Hey! Watch it!"

"No. You watch it" you shot back, venom on your tongue.

He swivelled back to Connor as he began to speak, "I'm sorry, but I only take orders from Lieutenant Anderson"

"Oh..? Oh!" his retort was followed by a swift movement you could barely make out despite your quick reflexes. His balled fist collided with Connor's stomach, prompting the wind to be knocked from his throat as he bunched down and hit the floor. Your heart pounded with anger, blood rushing through your head and thumping inside your ears. "If Hank hadn’t got in the way yesterday, I would’ve fucked you up for disobeying a human-"

Gavin was too busy to notice your fist flying his way in a haze, a peach-coloured whisp coming towards him. A crack fell throughout the room, followed by a crude insult, "Oh, you bitch!". Blood began to pour from his now jagged nose as if he was a sculpture that had been smashed. The burn in your knuckles was satisfying, even as Gavin dove towards you to push you back. But he didn't get that far, as he was halted by a solid torso, covered in a black and blue jacket.

"I'm sorry, but I cannot condone the violence against my partner"

Gavin exclaimed a noise of disgust, all eyes of the precinct honed on him. A flash of embarrassment flickered in his eyes, followed by something cold. It suggested the contemplation of his next actions, whether he would fight back and risk punishment, or cower and fix his nose with his tail between his legs.

He moved out of the room without a second thought, the other officer following in tow. You shifted onto your other food and gazed back at Connor, a proud simper displayed on your lips.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, thank you. I do not experience pain. He merely managed to hit my pump regulator. Are you okay?"

"I think so"

In the next hour, your team was recruited to investigate the case of a runaway AX400. According to the father, his android had kidnapped his daughter, seemingly unprompted. This struck you as strange, and even in the car on the way to the scene, you couldn’t help but ponder it as you stared wordlessly out the window. In every case you had studied or been involved in, a deviant had to be prompted, most of the time violently, in order to awaken deviancy.

Buildings whipped past you, the scenery a mash of colours. Your arm was pressed against the window, head settled on your hand. In the front of the vehicle, the same inky black car, sat Connor and Hank. Initially, Connor had insisted you sit in the front, but after much protest, he resigned himself to shotgun. You wanted to give the two the opportunity to bond, especially following the dilemma of the morning.

The destination: Downtown Detroit.

You had been briefed momentarily at the station, but nothing could have prepared you for the case without knowing the exact motive. That's what you were trying to figure out, anyways, as you stepped from the car and onto the pavement.

It had been raining, droplets collecting into slippery puddles. Cold, but not cold enough for a jacket. Hank had shot towards the nearest officer, hoping to collect any information he could to get a better grasp of the situation. You, on the other hand, strayed far from the car, observing the surroundings in a quick survey. You noted them down.

Supermarket.

Abandoned house.

Junkyard.

Bus stop.

The bus stop was closest, a closed shelter with numbers printed on it. Despite the area, it didn't appear to be worn down in any way. It acted as a shining beacon in the run-down side of town, looking as though it had only been installed recently. You approached it curiously, pausing at the crunch of glass under your boot. An eyebrow arched, you leant down to inspect it, your body creaking at its use. Extending your fingers forward, you took the sharp, angular piece carefully, lifting it towards your face and squinting.

It looked as though a piece of it had splintered off, and given that it hadn't been damaged until you came along, even though the bus stop was regularly used, it indicated that it was relatively fresh.

With the lead, you placed it back down and pivoted back to the men. Connor had been standing in front of the car as if awaiting instructions. But when you approached, his head angled towards you rather quickly. "Detective, could you come here please?" Connor called out softly, the sound of his voice sending a delightful shiver down your spine. Without delay, you jumped at his side like a poodle. He then pulled out his hand, skin glistening in the faint sunlight.

You stood there, confused, and a little dazed.

"Your hand, Detective"

Your hand seemed to rise on its own, hovering uncertainly above is.

"Forgive me".

Before you could argue, Connor had secured your hand in his, and rubbed his thumb and index finger against your skin. Everyone else seemed to fade away, a jolt of electricity flowing through your body. The pads of his fingers were agonisingly soft, with not a single callous or cut. Your shock only grew when he withdrew his hand, swiping his fingers to his lips, pink tongue darting out.

"Jesus Connor!" Hank burst, snapping you out of your trance. It was as if your world had shattered instantly, the shards of reality coming down around you. "What did I tell you about doing that shit!?"

Connor only hummed, "Therium from an AX400 model"

Even in your blissful haze, It began to click into place as soon as he noted the Therium. Scenes and motives began rushing through your head, sending it spinning uncontrollably. “Did the father ever mention how the android escaped? A window, perhaps? Maybe the android escaped through the window with the daughter, managing to break it in the process, and injuring herself on a piece of glass. Suppose she accidentally carried it with her, at which point, she realised at the bus stop and discarded it”, you paused, “it seems too rushed for it to be planned out methodically. She could have been driven by fear. Did we do a background check on the father?”

“Nothing other than a minor offence, cops were called to the resident a few years back due to a domestic disturbance” Hank responded. Your brows furrowed at the all-too-familiar signs.

Connor was quick to bounce off your idea, “It stayed until the end of the line. Like the detective said, its decision wasn't planned, it was driven by fear"

Hank scoffed, followed by a subtle shake of his head, "Androids don't feel fear"

"Deviants do" Connot shot back. You couldn't help but notice the way droplets of water slipped down his face, from his brow down to the bridge of his nose. The way it lit up his cheeks, outlining every crease and hint of texture. "They get overwhelmed by their emotions and make irrational decisions"

"Ah well, that still doesn't tell us where it went"

"It didn't have a plan, and it had nowhere to go. Maybe it didn't go far". Hanks's eyes scathed over Connor before responding in a weak, 'maybe'.

You had already noted the presence of the abandoned house, and decided to bring it up to the men. Deciding it was a good idea to investigate, Connor went in.

You didn't realise that, less than ten minutes later, it would lead you sprinting down busy streets, the rain-soaked pavement beneath you making each step treacherous. Your lungs burned, your eyesight fuzzy with spots as you remained determined not to let Connor out of your sight. But his sleek form was getting further and further away, leaping effortlessly over obstacles.

And the further Connor got, the further the deviant was from your grasp. You couldn't possibly keep up with two androids and an energetic little girl. The crackle of your radio seamlessly blended in with the pour of rain. Taking the opportunity, you rounded a corner, feeling the slip and loss of friction between your feet and the ground beneath you. You didn't let it slow you, only fastening your pace due to the loss of feeling in your legs.

You had no clue where Hank was, seemingly had lost him long ago back at the house.

All you knew was that Connor was slowing down as if preparing to face an obstacle you couldn't see.

Before you knew it, due to the fact you had been so absorbed ahead of you, you had neglected to see the wooden crate that had been thrown haphazardly in your direction. You felt it before you saw it, the snap of wood against your skin, the scuffle as the crate tumbled, just as your body did. You skidded as your palms hit the pavement, pain shooting all across your limbs, crying out in a strangled breath.

You shook, taking a moment as reality set in. Anger coursed through you, disappointment throbbing in your skull. Stupid fucking- argh! With a groan, you pulled yourself up, the painful ache of tears caught in your throat. You rubbed your palms together, letting the gravel slip off them, before jumping back into a limp, looking like a wounded animal.

You could hear the shuffle behind you, reminiscent of Hank. And in front of you stood Connor, halted at the sight of a rusted, chainlink fence. His fingers were intertwined, they clung to the fence forcefully. With your mouth open, allowing air to flow desperately into your lungs, you joined him. Your eyes finally focused on the image of a blonde-haired woman and a small, brunette girl, making their way towards the highway. Not even the bright red words labelled 'DO NOT CROSS' could stop the two as they prepared to dart between the lines of speeding vehicles.

"Oh fuck! That's insane!" Hank remarked, winded.

You felt your heart stop as the young girl screamed, both her and the deviant beginning their deadly cross. Horns blared, tires screeched, and the highway was alive with the symphony of urban chaos. You pressed your chest to the fence, welcoming the cold metal against your burning cheeks.

The jingle of the fence broke your gaze away from the two, heart dropped to your feet. Connor's foot lifted into one of the openings in the fence, and you realised what he was doing. Your hand darted to his jacket, tightening your grip on the fabric in a life-or-death hold.

"Hey! Where are you going!?" Hank called, asserting his hand on Connor's shoulder.

Connor's eyes were trained on the deviant, "I can't let them get away

"It's not worth your life!" you snapped.

"I'm an android, I'm not alive!"

"We don't care, that's an order!" Hank chipped in. The cold sweat trickling down your spine only ceased when Connor withdrew himself from the fence. You were all doomed to suspense, watching the two across the road as little ants in the distance. Even in the distance, you could make out the deviant's twisted expression.

And then, they made it.

You couldn't tell if you had breathed a sigh of relief or of frustration.

But as you looked towards Connor, it all dissipated. His expression had softened when faced with you.

"Thank you" you mouthed, "Thank you"

A/N: Rahhh!! What did we think?? Please don't forget to heart (or maybe even repost) my work if you like it! Connor is beginning to show signs of deviancy, but it's still a long road ahead. Also, aww Connor listened to the reader and took care of them <3

#dbh connor #dbh #dbh rk800 #Connor x reader #x reader #x afab reader #rk800 x reader #connor rk800 #detroit become human #no y/n #connor x female!reader

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