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ghostbeam · 26 days

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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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loliwrites · 11 months

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The One You Need | one

🎶 I spent most my life thinkin' love was out of reach, so maybe just this once, you could be the one I need, if you let me be the one you need 🎶

Pairing: neighbor!joel miller x f!reader Rating: explicit, 18+ minors dni Summary: when you move into town hellbent on keeping everyone at an arm’s length, your neighbor Joel finds his way into your life. Warnings/Tags: au, neighbor joel, age gap [reader is late 20s/early 30s, Joel is late 40s], slow burn [ish], hyper-independent reader, a bit of a misandrist mindset [boys are problems], mentions of family drama/turmoil, passing mention of death [elderly neighbor], brief non-violent use of a pocket knife, mention of stabbing [as self-defense], furniture building, reader described as female, hair long enough to tie up, no other physical descriptions, eventual smut, protective!joel, soft!joel, no use of y/n. Word Count: 4.6k Series Masterlist | part two a/n: this is my first time writing with this sort of format so pls be gentle. i’ve done my best to tag as thoroughly as possible, but if you think i’ve missed something, let me know. i have no outline for this. but i’ve got a whim and a direction and i’m going with it. **please read the warnings/tags for every part as they will be updated**

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You’d done it. Finally. No one ever thought you would, including you. And yet, here you were, lugging your sparse personal belongings out of the back of a U-Haul truck and in through the front door of your new home. And for once in your adult life, it wasn’t in some impersonal apartment building or complex. It was a house. In a town that was actually affordable, though it was further from home than you might’ve preferred. A town that was away from family, which had been the impetus, but also away from friends, which hadn’t been.

There was a perk to this being the first house you’d ever moved into. Being confined to seven hundred square feet had meant there was only so much room to fill. And it had all been cozy. But now there was a bit more space to work with. Not to say this house was large by any stretch of the imagination – it was on the smaller side of all the houses in the neighborhood – but you had rooms now. And as you loaded in different boxes and suitcases full of clothes and books, you realized how much of the space was going to be left empty. With the exception of a mattress, bed frame, dresser, a couple chairs, and bookcases, you left every other large piece of furniture behind. Couches, dining table, kitchen chairs, media console, TV… you planned on buying all of that in town. You only wanted to bring what you felt you could move yourself.

It was the season of life you were in. Young enough for people to say you had time before focusing on creating a family for yourself, but not young enough to avoid their awkward and worried glances when you told them you were only focused on your career. It was odd; never something that settled right. With each birthday, every time a candle was added, the world around you seemed less secure with your aloneness. As if you, a single female, were something of a threat to the rest of the world. Your solitude, an act of rebellion. God forbid you didn’t have a man to look after you. In your experience, boys didn’t do too good a job at much. Were they useful? Absolutely. You’d much rather delegate tasks to a boy than have to do them yourself. Mow the lawn, fix a creaky door, seal a drafty window, get you off… sure, there were any number of things a boy could do, but not only were they not necessary, you generally found you were better at any job than they were. That had been instilled in you long before you began dating.

How many times had it been proven that dad could not be held accountable for his entire emotional spectrum? And instead you, a mere child, were to be responsible for it. Though it wasn’t always bad – somewhere deep down you knew your parents had done the absolute best they knew how to do with the tools they had – but the emotion dad was never short on was anger. Thus, it was the emotion he was most comfortable expressing. And yes, you apparently were the catalyst for all of his loud expressions of anger and rage. Everything was always conditional. I’m sorry but you did this…

I love you but…

By the time dating had entered your life (which only happened post-college), let’s just say no therapist was surprised by the pattern of boys you chose to have in your life. All of them modeled the thing you were familiar with, which only served to imbed the quality you hated most about yourself. There was a tendency to accept any treatment a boy was willing to give you, without expressing needs or desires or even if there was a problem. Boundaries? Never heard of her. As far as boys were concerned, they seemed to have carte blanche over you. Your own resentment and anger would grow by the lack of your needs (which had never been verbally expressed) being met, until you’d had enough and cut them off. Every new relationship felt like a complete betrayal of yourself.

The highly independent and ‘don’t need a man’ personality quirk had strung a ribbon of apathy around your life. You liked to think of it that way. Like a Christmas bow around a present. Realizing you didn’t care about forming intimate relationships with men seemed a little less painful when given the image of a box neatly wrapped beneath a tree donning tinsel and colorful lights. It was at that point, while pondering your ribbon of apathy and clumsily shoving your mattress up the front porch steps, that a voice interrupted your progress.

“Lemme help ya’ with that, ma’am,”

The voice had arms. And those arms were simultaneously reaching for the same end of the mattress you already had hands on. Instinctively, you tugged your bed out of reach, “I got it.” But hands kept coming. They were insistent. Of course they were a man’s hands. A woman would’ve listened the first time. So with an extra strong tug and a tone that spat fire, you turned toward the owner of the hands and stood your ground, “I said, I got it!”

Dark brown eyes that almost looked black had the sun not been playing in their favor. They were soft. Gentle. Despite the fact that he’d just gotten yelled at. And those soft dark brown eyes… well they looked dumbfounded. Whether it was because of the volume of the statement or the fact that people generally didn’t turn down friendly help here in the South, he lifted his hands off the mattress and held them up innocently.

The force with which your action had been committed meant that the moment he released the bed, you went stumbling over, the entire thing thudding down on the porch. You shot him another icy glare as he slowly backed off the steps, though he remained in place and watched you crouch down to lift your mattress once again; the pad now harboring dirty stains.

“Can I help you with something in the truck?” He offered again. Unwanted persistence was a uniquely male quality.

“I don’t need your help, thanks. I got it,”

He watched for just a second longer at the image of you fumbling with the heavy mattress, barely able to keep it upright. Then he turned on his heels and went back from whence he came. Which you came to realize, when you looked over your shoulder to ensure he’d actually gone, was across the street and a few houses down. Fuck. Back in California, not too many people were neighborly but it wasn’t a point you were hoping to make. Especially not on the first day. There was a quaintness to the idea of a neighborhood full of people who liked and looked out for one another. You’d just hoped that would’ve come in the form of some old, opinionated woman sipping tea in a rocking chair on her front porch. The kind that maybe the kids were afraid of, but she was awesome. That’s when it came to mind that maybe that was the void in the neighborhood you were filling. You were to be the crotchety old woman, yelling at “those darn kids”. Fabulous.

Unfortunately (for no other reason than your own ego) you only got the mattress in through the threshold of the front door before it fell to the side and flopped back down to the floor. With a sigh and a thought that maybe it wasn’t so bad if it just lived there, you stepped over it and padded into the kitchen. Managed to place the boxes designated to the room in it, but had yet to unpack anything. You turned on the tap and tilted your head to the side, leaning in to take a sip of water directly from it. Only to find that upon turning off the tap and looking out the bay window by the sink, the man that had offered to help was visible from his yard. He wheeled out his trash and recycling bins to the curb. Resting his hands on his hips, he glanced around and took stock of the neighborhood. All seemed quiet and to his liking.

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Joel liked routine. Habit-forming had become a sort of habit. It meant he knew what his days looked like. It meant he was prepared. And after having been handed a life where being ill-prepared meant something was going wrong, there was great comfort in knowing how things were going to go day by day. Though he wasn’t rigid. He could include new things in his routine. For instance…

One morning he woke up, made his usual pot of coffee before work, and stood out on his porch. It’d be one of his only moments to slow down and actually notice the day. That’s when he noticed something new in his routine. A “For Sale” sign went up on Mrs. Wilson’s front lawn. Everyone in the neighborhood had been expecting it because, well, Mrs. Wilson had passed away. In her sleep one night. Joel thought that must’ve been the nicest way to go. And every morning, he’d go out on his porch and ponder Mrs. Wilson before carrying on with the rest of his routine. As such, he saw when it sold and went into escrow. He saw Mrs. Wilson’s son move out all of his mother’s old furniture until the place was left empty. Everything was routine.

That is, until the U-Haul showed up this morning. It was a small one and he remembered thinking there was no way that little truck contained enough furniture to fill up that house. But he brushed it off, continued with his routine, and went off to work. Though he had to admit, he was wholly curious about the new neighbor he was about to inherit.

He left his jobsite early afternoon, his truck ambling back to his house when another neighbor waved him down to stop him.

“Hey, Mr. Cole,” Joel smiled at the elderly man. Mr. Cole had been the first one to greet Joel when he’d first moved into town. Mr. Cole knew everything going on in the neighborhood, courtesy of Mrs. Cole.

“You see that gal move into Mrs. Wilson’s house?”

Joel nodded, “saw that woman move in, yeah.”

“Mighty pretty,”

Joel chuckled, “surely not as pretty as Mrs. Cole,”

“I don’t know,”

Joel laughed a little harder. “I’ll see ya’ around. Stop snoopin’.”

He’d only just arrived back home and parked his truck in the driveway when he saw you struggling with the mattress. And his mama raised him better than that so he went to offer his help. There hadn’t been a fiber in his being that thought you’d snap back like you had. That’s why he tried a second time. And when the second snap was stronger than the first, he raised his hands and backed off.

Shit. Out-of-towners were getting meaner and meaner.

He meandered to his house and only looked back once, just in time to see the mattress fall to the floor just inside the front door. He smiled to himself and continued on with his routine as much as possible. Tomorrow was trash day which meant the bins needed to be brought out. Simple enough task, just the way he liked it. He liked it even more when he spotted a glimpse of you looking at him through your kitchen window.

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You forwent unpacking anything that day. It wasn’t worth it. Nothing you pulled out would truly have a place to live until you got the furniture situation handled. And seeing as though your bed was still in the entryway, you figured there were bigger problems to handle. But just by looking at the hallway, and the thin doorways, you knew you were going to have a hell of a time bending and twisting the mattress to your will… and the architecture. Grocery shopping proved to be more time-sensitive, and once the fridge was as fully stocked as your bank account would allow, it already started to feel more like home. Which also meant, the way you’d snapped at your neighbor started to bother you more. You had to live in this person’s realm – whatever that looked like. He was your neighbor, and short of literally becoming the crotchety old woman that never left her home, there wasn’t a way for you to avoid him altogether. He seemed to have a lot of friends on the block. That’s also when you decided to suck up to your pride. To apologize to this man who really didn’t deserve an apology at all. Whatever it took to just live in peace.

The more you thought about it, the more it angered you. That was pretty par for the course. It would’ve been more odd if a man wasn’t pissing you off. It was still running through your mind as you plucked a six-pack from your fridge and crossed the street in the direction of his house. You thought about how you were going to have to plaster a phony smile on your face and make niceties to this person who you didn’t want to get to know. You just wanted to live. And you thought you’d have more time. As you ascended his porch steps, you made for the front door, zeroed in on it.

“Hey,”

The voice startled you, tripping over your own feet and stumbling, very nearly losing the six-pack of bottles to the wooden porch. You glanced over at him, and in the dim light his porch light gave off, watched him take an acoustic guitar out of his lap and set it beside his chair.

“Hi,” you mumbled and walked in his direction. “I’m your new neighbor,”

“I know. You yelled at me,”

You rolled your eyes, “I didn’t yell at you. I was just letting you know–”

“S’for me?”

You looked back down at him and noticed how he pointed at the six-pack of beer. “We got off on the wrong foot and I just want to live in peace and quiet so,” gesturing to the beer, “peace offering.” You handed the pack to him.

Joel cradled the cardboard sleeve in his lap and pulled out a bottle. “Want one?”

“No, thanks. I just came to drop them off,”

He flicked his eyes up and pulled out a second bottle. Then, setting the remaining bottles on the floor beside him, he twisted the first cap off. “S’not nice to yell at someone and then refuse their offer to share a drink,”

“I didn’t yell at you,”

“Sit down.”

And for whatever reason, you listened. In the past, had any man spoken to you like that, especially one you didn’t know from Adam, you’d’ve smacked him. But not this time. This time you sat in the chair perched next to his and awkwardly took the open beer from his hand when he passed it over to you.

The silence that ensued was tense and palpable. Neither willing to bend first. Joel kept his eyes focused on his beer bottle and you kept your focus on… him. Naturally suspicious and wary, you thought if you kept your gaze on him, you’d catch him before he did anything out of hand. But really all you noticed was the way his nose had a slight downward curve to it. And the way the graying hair at the back of his head curled along his neck. And the way his beard, also graying, came in in patches, but in the most endearing way. Wrinkles and worry lines had etched their way deep in his forehead. Crow’s feet found a home in the corners of his eyes. Both told you this was a man who had felt and lived a lot of life: the good and the bad. You thought you saw a small scar on his cheek just below his eye, but you couldn’t be sure. The man was middle-aged. His skin and hands gave the appearance he was a blue-collar, working man who’d spent his life in the beating sun.

“Get everything moved in?” He took a sip and eyed you, aware that you were nodding, but still the glance he gave you made you think he knew you were lying. Obviously you were.

“My bed is still by the front door,” you relented.

“Not where I’d recommend a bedroom be, but to each their own,”

“I can’t get it down the hallway by myself.” You tried to ignore that he seemed to light up at the admission. You? Needing his help? “It’s too narrow,”

“Want help?”

You looked at him almost incredulously. Had you treated California neighbors the way you treated them, you'd have been lucky if you didn’t find your car keyed the next day. But he was offering his help? Again?

“You’d help me after the way I yelled at you?”

He pursed his lips and shrugged. “You didn’t yell at me,” another smile flashed over his face and he looked over at you again.

You hated that it made you smile, too. Yet you waved him off. “That’s alright. I’ll figure out a way,”

Joel chuckled and shook his head, taking a pause before he downed another long sip of his beer.

“What?” You urged.

“S’nothin’,'' he shook his head again with another grin. “Know you probably could figure out a way, but… s’just that you don’t need to. Why won’t you let me help you?”

You sucked in a deep breath, “look, I’m sure you’re a nice guy…” you trailed off realizing you didn’t know his name more than referring to him to yourself as that nosy neighbor guy.

He seemed to pick up on it and pointed to himself, “Joel. Miller,”

“But I don’t need a guy to get on with life, y’know? I’m a self-sufficient woman. I don’t need to rely on anyone but myself.”

Joel finished off his beer and stood up from his chair, “acceptin’ help when it’s offered isn’t relying on anyone else. It just makes life easier.” He started down the steps and crossed over his lawn.

“Where’re you going?!”

“To move your bed!”

Leaping up from your chair, you ran after him, in quick pursuit as he neared your home. You knew it was a wreck inside. Trash and boxes everywhere. Not ready for any visitors, even ones you didn’t want there in the first place.

“Really! It’s alright.” When that didn’t stop him from advancing toward your house, you tried another path, “the bed frame’s not even put together!”

“Then I’ll put it together,” he said over his shoulder, nearly in your front yard now.

You managed to lunge forward and grab onto his jacket sleeve, effectively stopping his advance. At least for the time being. “I don’t usually let men I don’t know into my home,”

“What?”

“You know… in case they’re crazy and kill me.”

Joel furrowed his eyebrows, utterly perplexed. He tried to make heads or tails of you as a whole and was having a hell of a time trying to do so. But he shoved his hand into the back pocket of his jeans and produced from it, a pocket knife. He unfolded it, which gave you some pause, but then he quickly held it out for you to take. You did, and as soon as the small weapon left his hand, he turned and continued toward your porch.

“Hey! What am I supposed to do with this?!”

“Stab me,”

“What?!”

He ascended the porch steps and waited at your front door, where you soon joined him. “If I do something weird, and you think I’m gonna kill you in your own house, you can stab me. Full permission,”

You looked down at the knife, and then back up at Joel.

“Can you open your door?”

Gulping down nerves, “it’s unlocked.”

“Still,” Joel pressed a smile, “I’m not in the habit of letting myself into women’s homes. I’d prefer if you opened it and let me in.”

For the second time today, you found yourself doing something all because a man told you to do so and you wondered if the move was making you soft. Regardless, you reached past Joel, pressed down on the lever, and nudged the door open. It stopped short from opening all the way as it hit the edge of your mattress. Joel flicked his eyes at you, as if silently saying see, you need me.

He shimmied his way in, with you close behind, half-heartedly pointing the pocket knife in his direction. He bent over and picked the mattress up off the floor, seemingly with ease. Though you did hear his knees click when he crouched down, but due to his age, you thought better than to bring it to attention. Hell, even your knees creaked every now and again.

“I’ll go backwards and steer it. Think you can be the muscle?” He waited until you nodded and set the knife down, and gathered your hair in a messy bun on top of your head to keep it out of the way. Poised at the other end of the mattress, he lined it up for its plight down the hallway. “Alright, nice and easy,” he began to pull, feeling more frictionless movement as you began helping on the other end. It wasn’t too hard; more awkward than anything. But he guessed the mattress weighed as much as, if not more than, you, so by yourself it must’ve been like dragging dead weight around. “Easy, easy,” he murmured, tilting the mattress to the side to accommodate for the doorjamb, “that’s it. Take it slow,” he elongated the end of the word, completely focused on the side of the mattress as it brushed along the door. “We’re in,”

You helped him lean the mattress out of the way and against the wall. “Thanks for your help, Joel,” you backed up toward the door, hoping he’d follow you.

But he ignored you completely, and instead found the parts to your metal bed frame laying on the floor. He lowered himself to his knees and inspected it. “You got a Phillips head?”

“Joel…”

“S’gonna take me ten minutes. The longer you stall, the longer I’m gonna be here.”

He had a point. And a very good one at that. So you turned and all but ran down the hall, searching for the box you’d so astutely labeled as “tools”. A fear set in that the longer you were away, the more time Joel had to go through your belongings (albeit sparse). You didn’t want him getting too comfortable in your home, least of all in your bedroom. So you rushed, tore open the “tools” box, dug through it until you found the screwdriver, and then raced back down the hall as if you’d have time to catch him snooping. But as soon as you arrived back in your bedroom doorway, you didn’t find him snooping. You found him still on his knees, crawling around, laying the different parts out to make the square your bed would soon sit on.

Joel smiled when he noticed you returned, and held his hand up to take the screwdriver from you. Only when he grabbed it, his face turned to horror and he grimaced at the pink floral design on the handle. “What’s this?”

“A screwdriver,”

“It’s got flowers on it,” he protested.

“It’s cute!”

He chuckled and started putting the bed frame together. “Y’know they charged you thirty percent more because they slapped flowers on it and marketed it toward women,”

You sat on the floor beside him and watched him work. “Well if I have to be the man in my life, my tools are gonna be a little more feminine,”

Joel glanced at you momentarily. Just long enough to question your statement, but not long enough for you to really notice he’d stopped working at all. “What about the actual man in your life?”

“Don’t have one. Don’t need one. I’ve got my floral tool set to prove it,”

A hum was the only acknowledgement Joel gave to that. As if that answered all his questions.

“What?”

“You talk a lot about how you don’t need anyone. I’m gatherin’ you actually only mean you don’t need a man. Which is fine and all, but s’just that that seems kinda lonely.” He set the screwdriver down and held the next two pieces together. “You remind me of me ten years ago. Stubborn. Determined to be alone.” He moved on to the next piece, “thing is… if you don’t need anyone, it also kind of implies that you’re not needed by anyone. And what good is life if you can’t give yourself to someone in that way?”

Jaw-dropped, you gathered yourself, eyes widening. “Wow, your wife must love having you as a husband,”

He smiled and chuckled, “I don’t have a wife.”

“So what do you know about giving yourself to someone and being needed?”

Joel flashed his eyes to you. Gentle and filled with love, “I have a daughter. Sarah. She’s in college now. She’s quite literally the best thing that’s ever happened in my life,”

“I wouldn’t have pegged you for a father,”

“‘Cause I look so young?” He grinned and tightened one final screw. With the frame now positioned where it needed to be, he stood up and went back to your mattress. You scooted out of the way as he single-handedly maneuvered it onto the frame and adjusted it until it was just perfect. “Check it off the to-do list. Now you can get a good night’s sleep,”

You admired his work and it wasn’t lost on you that it only took him a third of the time it would’ve taken you. Before you’d even gotten through that realization, Joel had already passed you and had made his way back out to the hall, where he walked down it back toward your front door. You followed after him, remaining quiet as he picked up his pocket knife from where you’d left it and tucked it back into his pant pocket. His hand got to the doorknob and you still hadn’t spoken, so he was the one to bite the bullet.

“You know, I never got your name.”

Heat crept up your neck, trying to make a home in your cheeks, as you mentioned your name to him. He smiled and nodded but offered nothing more, so you figured it was still your turn. “Thanks for your help, Joel,”

“No problem,” he waved you off.

“Maybe if more guys were like you, I wouldn’t hate them so much,”

“Give it time. You’ll be back to yellin’ at me soon.” He opened the front door and took a step through it. “Give me a holler if you need something, you know where I live,”

“Will do,”

He started to close the door but then opened it again and poked his head through. “Make sure you lock the door this time,”

You pressed a smile and approached the door where he waited until your hand was on the knob. With one last quiet goodbye, he pulled the door shut and you followed it up by locking it. Then with little time to spare, you ran to the window in the living room to watch him walk away. He pressed his hands into his pockets and looked around. Then a smile stretched over his face and he kicked at the grass before he crossed the street and moseyed back to his house.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #the one you need #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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f1rodrigo · 10 months

Text

sweet relief | l. norris | part four

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ it's so reckless of me...

summary: in which you fall for your best friend’s teammate and keeping it a secret proves to be harder than you intended. or when all you need is sweet relief the rest of the world fades away. pairing: social media au || lando norris x piastri bsf!reader fc: olivia rodrigo <3 warnings: language

inspired by the song ‘sweet relief’ by madison beer

ALL PARTS HERE

a/n: hi i'm veryyyyy sorry for how long it took me to get this one up but it has a bit more than the other parts did & its currently finals week so the end of the semester is always very busy so i didn't have much time to work on this. hope you enjoy xx

⋆。ﾟ☁︎。⋆。ﾟ☾ ﾟ。⋆⋆。ﾟ☁︎。⋆。ﾟ☾ ﾟ。⋆⋆。ﾟ☁︎。⋆。

landonorris added to their story

⋆。ﾟ☁︎。⋆。ﾟ☾ ﾟ。⋆⋆。ﾟ☁︎。⋆。ﾟ☾ ﾟ。⋆⋆。ﾟ☁︎。⋆。

📍 Tokyo, Japan

liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell, and 2,032,987 others

yourusername i don't dream of anyone else...

view all 3,098 comments

user1 SHES IN JAPAN EVERYONE UP

user2 miss girl...this caption...the rumors...is it lyrics...what does it all mean%^&(@&@(!

user3 this caption after all the rumors ohhh my girl dont give a fuckkkk

user4 can't tell if this is her confirming or denying

⤷ user5 ...or living her life and not paying it any mind

user6 WHY THE FUCK IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT THE LAST PHOTO??? ITS LITERALLY THE ELEVATOR AND FIT SHE WAS IN FROM THE DELETED PIC ON LANDOS STORY HELLO

⤷ user7 wait omfg it is.... idk why i didnt realize it sooner ⤷ user8 pls they do not gafffff anymore basically telling us they're together ⤷ user9 omg what deleted story???? ⤷ user10 go to @/norrisupdates on twitter i think they posted it before he deleted

user11 max fewtrell in the likes oh i am Thinking

lilymhe prettiest girl <3

⤷ yourusername i love u so dearly ms lily ⤷ user12 this is wag confirmation idc

⋆。ﾟ☁︎。⋆。ﾟ☾ ﾟ。⋆⋆。ﾟ☁︎。⋆。ﾟ☾ ﾟ。⋆⋆。ﾟ☁︎。⋆。

⋆。ﾟ☁︎。⋆。ﾟ☾ ﾟ。⋆⋆。ﾟ☁︎。⋆。ﾟ☾ ﾟ。⋆⋆。ﾟ☁︎。⋆

yourusername added to their story

⋆。ﾟ☁︎。⋆。ﾟ☾ ﾟ。⋆⋆。ﾟ☁︎。⋆。ﾟ☾ ﾟ。⋆⋆。ﾟ☁︎。⋆

liked by lnfour, yourusername, and 643,811 others

landonorris DOUBLE PODIUM!!!!!!!!!! Congrats mate! Thanks @/mclaren 🧡

view all 3,070 comments

mclaren Very good, very nice. 🏆🏆👏

oscarpiastri Well done mate 👊

riabish 🙌

user13 ANOTHER PODIUM THATS MY GOAT

user14 who would've thought... wow i am so proud

user15 mclaren double podium i used to pray for times like these

yourusername conhrsts 😭🧡

⤷ landonorris hmm sorry what was that ⤷ yourusername oh my god i couldn't see through my tears YOU KNEW WHAT I MEANT ⤷ user16 COULDNT SEE THROUGH HER TEARS PLSSS SHES JUST LIKE US ⤷ user17 mom and dad are fighting i dont like this

⋆。ﾟ☁︎。⋆。ﾟ☾ ﾟ。⋆⋆。ﾟ☁︎。⋆。ﾟ☾ ﾟ。⋆⋆。ﾟ☁︎。⋆

liked by landonorris, yourusername, and 643,811 others

oscarpiastri One for the mantelpiece 🏆 and driver of the day too!! you guys 🧡

view all 2,217 comments

user18 SOBBING MY EYES OUT

landonorris Congrats mate!!

⤷ oscarpiastri You too mate! (and i'm not talking about the podium 😉) ⤷ landonorris ...I take it back ⤷ user19 oscar piastri what the FUCK is that supposed to mean

yourusername I AM CRYING LIKE A PARENT DROPPING THEIR CHILD OFF FOR THEIR FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL

⤷ user15 yn & lando parents to oscar has now been confirmed

yourusername so beyond proud of you oscar 🥹

⤷ oscarpiastri 🧡🧡 ⤷ user20 cannot imagine how she feels watching him all her life through karting till now and getting to witness his first podium oh my gosh im crying again ⤷ user21 STFU NOW IM CRYING

⋆。ﾟ☁︎。⋆。ﾟ☾ ﾟ。⋆⋆。ﾟ☁︎。⋆。ﾟ☾ ﾟ。⋆⋆。ﾟ☁︎。⋆

liked by oscarpiastri, dan_nigro, and 3,981,061 others

yourusername my new single, 'sweet relief' will be all yours in one week. presave at the link in my bio<3

view all 5,910 comments

user30 BEST DAY OF MY LIFE ARE U KIDDING

user31 love song about lando calling it now

user32 sobbing my eyes out new yn music

user33 BABE WAKE UP YN YLN ANNOUNCED NEW MUSIC

landonorris 🔥

⤷ user34 real

logansargeant lets goooo

user34 HIT OF THE YEAR INCOMING

user35 cannot wait oh my fucking god

alex_albon lily and i will be streaming❗️❗️

⋆。ﾟ☁︎。⋆。ﾟ☾ ﾟ。⋆⋆。ﾟ☁︎。⋆。ﾟ☾ ﾟ。⋆⋆。ﾟ☁︎。⋆

tagged:

@allywthsr , @2bormaybenot , @vellicora

#formula 1 #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris smau #landoscar #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #lando norris fanfic #f1 2023 #formula one #formula one fic #lando norris fluff #oscar piastri #olivia rodrigo #wallowsrigo #wallowsrigosweetrelief

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asterias-record-shop · 1 year

Text

╭════• ೋ•✧๑♡๑✧•ೋ •═══╮

— blinded

╰════• ೋ•✧๑♡๑✧•ೋ •═══╯

**edited timeline, aged up to in early twenties

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[join the taglist!]𓆪

Maybe it was your feelings from Ethan that blinded you from seeing how horrible he truly was. After just murdering someone, someone you must have cared for, you were only focused on getting off from the feeling of a hilt of a Buck 120 buried all the way down to the blade in your soaked cunt.

“God, you’re such a fucking whore,” Ethan spoke, blood splattered on his face as he stared down at your trembling thighs, rutting hips, and squelching pussy. “Look at you… getting off on having a fucking knife inside of you.”

You wailed softly, sobbing as you reached up to cover your mouth, your stomach twisting as your mind blurred. This was bad, horrible. How could your boyfriend of almost two years do this? “Pl-Please, please Ethan… I’m almost there, please!”

He laughed cruelly, humming. “Watch… when I keep fucking murdering people, they’re going to find all your cum all over their body and we’ll be fucking tied to each other forever. Would you like that? Hm?”

His words make your stomach clench, pussy fluttering around the hilt of the blade making him laugh, watching your hips squirm. “Yes! Oh my god, yes! Ethan, I need to cum, I need to cum!”

He smirked, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your tear stained cheek. “You’re such a pathetic little slut. You’re so lucky I love you… that I want to fuck you and get you pregnant so no matter what happens to me, this world will never be able to escape my bloodline.”

A whine falls from your lips as you gripped onto the black cloak he wore, mindlessly nodding along with his words. You were so fucked out and obsessed with him, you didn’t care what he did, as long as he only did it to you and you only. “Yes! Yes, I want to get pregnant, please please please…” you babbled endlessly before a yell of your name makes you snap out of it.

Ethan smirked, tilting his head. “Who was that?”

Quickly shaking your head, you continued to roll your hips. “P-Probably Tara.. please, I need to cum-”

“Ah ah,” Ethan tutted, shaking his head. “I need to get out of here baby… maybe take her with me.”

You quickly shake your head, trying to divert him from your best friend. “W-Wait! Please, don’t hurt her! Please… please, I’ll do anything… I’ll get pregnant with your baby, please…”

He laughed, pulling the knife out of you making you whine, shaking your head. “You think that was a choice? I’m going to cum inside of you so much that you’re going to be leaking it for days,” he basically growled out, this new side of Ethan making your cunt clench around nothing as his knife grazed your skin. “Now… where should I mark you, hm? So they don’t know I fucked you like a whore with a blood stained knife.”

“Anywhere!” You sobbed, watching as his knife nicked at your arm before leaving a soft trail on your forearm. “E-Ethan!”

“Sh, baby,” he whispers, kissing at your cheek. “Gotta go. I won’t hurt Tara, just for you. I expect you to be prepped and ready for when I sneak into your room tonight and fuck you until all you can think about is having my child.”

His words made your stomach clench, cumming around nothing as he laughed cruelly, giving a firm slap to your cunt. “That’s a good girl… you better be ready when I get to your dorm room.”

When you got home after making a police statement, you crashed onto your bed. You had already started working on stretching yourself out for Ethan to just come and use you like a whore, but you couldn’t help but feel bad. You had lied and said you had killed him, but what if he comes back? What would you do then?

“What are you thinking about, pretty girl?” Ethan’s voice makes you jump, standing at the edge of your bed, pumping his cock languidly as he stares at your stilled fingers in your cunt.

“I-I told them I killed you,” you whisper, shaking your head. “Th-That I stabbed you and that I think you’re dead somewhere.”

“Good girl,” he praised you, slowly crawling onto the bed and holding your wrist, pulling out your hand and pushing your fingers into his mouth. He groaned loudly at your taste, using his other hand to push into you and snap his hips forward. You screamed out as he lets your hand fall to his shoulder, kissing your cut forearm as he continued to roll his hips. “I’m sorry I had to hurt you baby… had to make sure they weren’t suspicious.”

“I-It’s okay,” you whisper back, shaking your head. “I can take it.”

He smiled, letting his tongue trail over the medical tape. “Can you? Hm?”

You whined, nodding as his hips started to move faster, groans falling from his lips as he desperately tried to speed up his thrusts. “I’ll take anything you give me.”

He groaned as he threw his head back- you really were a perfect little whore for him. Anything he said you’d obey, anything he did you’d take- it was just perfect.

“Fuck, you did such a good job that I’m about to cum,” he groaned, watching as you nodded mindlessly.

“Yes! Yes, I’ll take it!” You whimpered, throwing your head back. “I’ll take it, I’ll take everything-!”

A scream fell from your lips as he quickly took your legs over his shoulders, pushing you back enough so that he could fuck you at a new angle, ragged grunts falling from his lips. “Fuck… fuck, fuck!”

A groan fell from your mouth as you felt his cum spurt into you, warm and sticky as your stomach clenched and you came just at the feeling, whimpering softly as he continued to roll his hips. “You know I love you, right?”

You nodded mindlessly as he stroked your face, tilting his head. “Good… good, pretty girl, because I’m too fucking obsessed with you to lose you.”

Taglist: 𓆩[@lem0ns77]𓆪 𓆩[@cecepop15]𓆪 𓆩[@memeorydotcom]𓆪 𓆩[@your-favorite-god]𓆪 𓆩[@nowitsmissing]𓆪 𓆩[@xyzstar]𓆪 𓆩[@just-my-shit]𓆪 𓆩[@your-mom21]𓆪 𓆩[@c78r]𓆪 𓆩[@dizscreams]𓆪 𓆩[@copypastedaphne]𓆪 𓆩[@asrt5]𓆪 𓆩[@xoxomoonlightbabe]𓆪 𓆩[@f-aggotry]𓆪 𓆩[@ineedmentalhelp123]𓆪 𓆩[@aerangi]𓆪 𓆩[@luv-lella]𓆪 𓆩[@teenwolfbitches28]𓆪 𓆩[@miawastakens]𓆪 𓆩[@hufflepuffsweetheart1]𓆪 𓆩[@nowitsmissing]𓆪 𓆩[@satans--beloved]𓆪

#asterias-record-shop #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry #ethan landry smut #ethan landry x fem!reader #ethan landry x you #ethan landry x y/n #scream #scream fanfic #scream six #scream vi #scream movies #ethan landry scream #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry fluff #ethan landry x fem!reader smut

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userlando · 1 year

Note

Reader w bestie lando feeling down bc he’s surrounded by more conventionally attractive girlies/people because of his profile and him listing all the positive qualities and things that he likes about them except he lets slip saying he LOVES it about them n getting all flustered stuttering and then confessing years of longing my HEART can’t handle this pls add ur thoughts vulnerable lan is my kryptonite

oh my god please 😭😭

reassurance (1492 words) best friend lando/fem!reader confessing feelings

please beware that this can have allusions/mentions of body dysmorphia, reader being insecure and self-conscious about how she looks. nothing too major, but it may trigger someone!

The both of you are standing by the kitchen counter, it’s late and Max is sleeping upstairs, oblivious to what’s going on outside his bedroom door. It had been a long night of drinking with half the grid and their respective partners, buying out a VIP section and ordering buckets of icy drinks.

It was at two a.m. that your social battery died out and so did Lando’s. You didn’t think a person could be so happy as he got when he glanced your way and caught you surreptitiously hiding a yawn behind your hand, asking if you were ready to head out. He’d only had one drink, so he drove the both of you back to his and Max’s place.

The kitchen had become your refuge, only one small lamp being the source of light as you got comfortable by the counter. Lando had, as suspected, sought out Max’s stash of snacks, ignoring your halfhearted protests because the last time he’d raided the pantry, his best friend had gotten so pissed that he’d locked it.

Normally, you would’ve joined him in the drunken snacking, giggling and carrying a stupid conversation that usually went in the direction of weird-ville, ending with ‘what type of worm would you be, if you could choose one?’

But tonight, you were staring dubiously at the bag of Walkers and packet of Hobnobs, all kinds of self-conscious thoughts swirling in your mind. You thought of earlier that night, when you’d trashed the dress you had in mind because it didn’t look right on you. You thought of how you’d gone for jeans, immediately regretting it when you arrived at the club and spotted the girls in short skirts and gorgeous dresses that looked like it was moulded for them. It was difficult to not feel some kind of way when everyone around you looked like they’d just stepped off the runway.

“You alright, peach?” Lando’s voice cut through your thoughts and you glanced up at him, hanging over the counter and chewing loudly on biscuits.

You grimaced at the nickname, one that you really hadn’t had many feelings about until recently. It had started as a joke, being photographed walking the paddock with Lando during an obscure weekend and Lando had giggled so hard that he turned red, almost losing consciousness as he read a tweet someone had posted about you.

ass so fat it looks like a peach

It had been funny, and Lando never really let it go. He’d started calling you peach ironically, until it stuck and replaced your name entirely.

But now you weren’t so sure about the positive aspects of the nickname.

Lando made a noise in his throat, swallowing dryly around the crumbs and reaching a hand out to poke your cheek. You twisted away slightly, blowing out a breath.

“Lando!”

“Tell me what’s wrong.” He demanded, sounding much like a defiant child.

You gave him a look. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“Don’t fucking lie to me, I can see you pouting.”

“I’m not—“ You caught yourself before your blood pressure reached a new high. “Shut up.”

“Peach.” He said again and you looked down from his probing eyes, staring hard at the opened packet of Hobnobs that Max would for sure notice were missing.

“I just…” You trailed off, not knowing how to express your feelings without sounding so childish. What would you say? I don’t feel beautiful. I feel like an ogre next to your friends’ girlfriends. I hate the way I look. “I’ve been feeling a bit self-conscious lately, that’s all.”

Lando didn’t say anything and you looked up, thinking that he might’ve missed your words completely but he was staring at you softly, so gentle that emotions almost clogged your throat up. You scrunched your nose, and Lando let out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding because he knew what that scrunch meant. He knew that was something that you automatically did when you were close to tears.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” He asked, and you couldn’t help but smile a little tearfully.

Leave it to Lando to never push, to always listen and never judge you when you were feeling every range of emotion. It always tugged at your heart. You truly loved him.

“I feel like a sack of potatoes when I see the girls.” You laughed wetly, reaching a hand up to wipe away at your eyes. Lando smiled when you unknowingly smeared your makeup. “They’re my friends and I don’t resent them for it, but it strikes me sometimes how we’re so different when it comes to looks.”

Lando frowned a little at that, placing a hand on top of yours. Palm against palm, pointer finger finding your pulse point on your wrist and resting it there. The way he always did.

“I like potatoes.” He murmured and you shot him a dry look. “But you’re right, you are different.”

That made you frown deeper, bottom lip sticking out in sadness and it broke Lando’s heart. He hurried to wipe under your eye with a thumb, smiling gently.

“You’re different because you’re my peach. You’re different in the way you treat people with so much kindness that it blows my mind sometimes. You’re different in the way you smile so hard that your eyes disappear, just like that.” You shielded your face behind your hand, letting out a laugh you couldn’t contain. “You treat me like me. Not like Lando, the driver. You shove me when I burp and you twist my arm when I tease you. And I love you for it. I love that you’re different, and I wouldn’t want you to be anyone else.”

You blinked at him, slowly letting his words sink in.

“You love me?” You asked, aware that he might’ve meant it platonically but Lando’s reaction made you stop breathing for a second.

His cheeks turned pink, palms flattening on the surface of the counter to push himself up, like he was trying to put a little distance between you two. You’d only ever seen him act this way a handful of times, eyes wide and a little panicked, tips of his ears red as he opened his mouth and closed it. Like finding the right words was suddenly difficult.

“I mean— I just meant…” His voice died, shrugging a little helplessly the longer you stared at him.

Your heart was going a mile a minute, not believing what you were seeing but if Lando was fumbling his words and shrugging like he was hoping you’d let it go, he was dead wrong. You were gonna grip this opportunity with both hands and hold on.

“Look,” He pulled a face, blowing out a sharp breath of air through his mouth. “If I tell you something, will you hold it against me?”

Fuck. It was happening, wasn’t it?

“Perhaps.” You answered, voice almost inaudible because you were putting all of your excess energy into not passing the fuck out.

Lando rolled his eyes, looking a little trapped all of a sudden and you hurriedly rounded the corner, smiling at him when he took a small step back the closer you got to him.

He glanced at the counter like he considered walking around it, putting the distance back between you two but you quickly grabbed his arm, prompting him to look at you.

“How long?” You asked, soft and quite frankly, a little stunned.

“What?” He asked but his eyes said it all.

“Lando.”

“Stop.” He laughed, sounding breathless and a little frustrated. “Stop saying my name like that.”

You frowned at him, tilting your head when he turned his gaze away. He still hadn’t pulled out of your hold though, not even when you palmed his left pectoral. You didn’t know if it was wishful thinking or your imagination, but there was a steady thud against your palm that felt a lot like his racing heart and it made you smile.

“Like what?”

Lando sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, letting it go with a tsk.

“Like you love me.” He said quietly.

It was like someone had reached down your throat and grabbed your heart, squeezing the blood out and popping the vessels. You almost gasped for breath, smile stretching your lips and Lando’s expression went from cautious to slightly hopeful.

“What if I do love you?” You asked.

“Then…” He trailed off when your hand travelled from his pec to his cheek, cupping it. “Then I’d say I love you. I’d say that I’ve always loved you.”

You let out a laugh, like the absurd amount of happiness blooming in your chest was too hard to contain. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, getting on your toes to hug him properly.

“Took you long enough.” You murmured against his ear and Lando squirmed, pinching your side just to hear you squeak.

It was his favourite sound in the world.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

this isn’t beta read, I wrote this in my notes app at work so I hope it’s okay 🫣 it wasn’t smut this time (sorry) but I wanted to save the juicy stuff for longer fics hehe. I hope you enjoy this xx

#zee’s asks 💌#lando brainrot #lando norris x female reader #lando norris blurb #bff!lando #f1 blurb

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braxlrose · 1 year

Note

Hello! I really like your writing and I was wondering if I could request a bill x reader? It's where reader had a very rough childhood, with parents and stuff so they dont have a really good picture of love and gets confused about little nice things Bill does for them, like comforting and just being a good boyfriend, and can sometimes be like emotionally unavailable? But they really try with Bill and, yeah! Lmao, you don't have to do this and feel free to ignore!

omggg you're literally one of my favorite writers and I love this request because I really like writing angst bc there's so much emotion so ty <3

Also this is not proof read

cw: mentions of abuse (physical and verbal), angst, tell me if I missed anything pls!

Growing up was hard for you. Your father was barely ever around and when he was, he was completely hammered. You tried to stay away from him when he was like that, but it was hard considering you lived in the same house and he was always getting fired from jobs. Whenever you angered him, he'd take off his belt and beat you until you were sobbing. Then would pass out on the couch and act like nothing was wrong when he woke up.

On the other hand, your mother just never seemed to be happy with you. Always nit-picking on everything you did, the way you looked, the way you did your hair, your style, the way you talked, you were either too skinny or too fat; you just couldn't do anything right in her eyes.

You always tried your best to make them happy, just having the smallest glimmer of hope that they'd be proud of you for something. All your hard work at school or everything you did for your community. All the diets you went on for your mother. Cleaning up after your father. There was just nothing you could do.

You didn't understand why they were like this. Why did they have a child in the first place if all you did was "ruin their lives". You didn't understand love at all. Your mother said that she only does this because she cares about you, but if she cared wouldn't she want you to be yourself? No, of course not. You're either like her, or nothing. And that was that.

***

Then you moved to Magdeburg, Germany. Your mother was sick of her old apartment and your father was banned from all the alcohol stores in your town, so you had to move. Again. This wasn't the first time. You've moved 4 times in the past year because of your parents, you haven't lived anywhere long enough to make any friends.

You had moved into a small village and your mother was making you go over to the neighbour's for dinner. Your father was passed out somewhere so it was just you and her. She put your hair in a high ponytail and added "cute little pink bows". She always pulled too hard on your hair when she did it. You weren't allowed to leave the house unless you put on the pink, frilly dress she got you. You had to be "perfect" and "lady-like" or else no one would like you.

You slipped on your shoes and got pushed out the door by your mother. She had also plastered your face in makeup. Mascara, eyeshadow, lipgloss, all of that. You were fifteen years old for God sakes, why did she care so much?!

"You better not make me look bad in front of our new neighbour's, got it? I don't need your running your mouth like always." You nodded your head as she smacked the back of it, making you flinch before knocking on the door. You heard footsteps coming quickly to the door before a blonde woman opened up. A smile crept onto her face as she saw us.

(Its changing from third person to first person now!)

"Oh come in! Come in!" She said to us with a big smile on her face, ushering us in. My mother pushed me into the house, with a smile. The woman in front of us leaned down and waved, "Hi! You must be y/n! It's so nice to meet you!" I froze. What was I supposed to say? What if she got mad at my tone? What if I said something wrong? What if- I looked up as my mother nudged me on the arm, glaring into my eyes. don't be rude. she didn't even have to say anything for me to understand.

"Nice to meet you too!" I said to her, trying to smile but it just ended looking uncomfortable and awkward. She stood back up to her normal height and turned around, waving us towards the living room.

"Boys! Come down here to meet our new neighbours!" The woman shouted up the stairs as me and my mother sat down on the couch. She swatted my arm again.

"Stand up straight. Your going to make me look like a bad mother!" She whispered to me, giving me that icy cold glare she can never seem to get rid of whenever she looks at me.

Just then, two boys came stumbling down the stairs. They were obviously twins but looked very different from eachother. I turned my body back around when I heard then coming into the living room. I straightened out my back and looked at them with wide eyes.

"Woah, a girl." The mophead whispered. Tch, mophead. That's what he looked like. His dreads were all over the place.

"This is Mrs. y/l/n and y/n. They moved here today. Why don't you boys show y/n around the house?" They both nodded and smiled at me. This is where it all began. My friendship with Tom and Bill Kaulitz. It's been about 4 months since then and we all became good friends really quickly.

***

Me and Bill were walking through the park while tom was out doing God-knows-what. It was December already, so it had gotten really cold. We walked on some trails before Bill stopped us.

"What are you doing?" I asked, as he bent down on his feet.

"Tying your boots. You're gonna trip on them." My eyes widened as he leaned down. I'm just a fucking idiot I didn't even notice my shoelaces were untied. Who the fuck doesn't know that? Why didn't I realize? Am I actually that stupid? I could hear my mother's voice pounding in my head.

"Oh no! You don't have to do that, it's fine really! I'm just stupid, it's f-" he covered my mouth as he got it.

"Relax, I'm already done and I don't mind. Wouldn't want my favorite neighbour to fall face first into snow." He laughed and kept walking. Why'd he do that? He should've just told me to do it on my own, right? I don't need anybody to do anything for me. He should've just left it alone! What the fuck is wrong with hi-

"Hey are you thirsty?" What? What was he saying? I looked over at him when he stopped. We were back in town now, I hadn't even noticed.

"Hello?" He waved his hand in front of my face.

"Uhm..what?" I asked with a blank expression on my face. What was he saying? Why was he even asking me instead of just telling me? Isn't that easier?

"I said are you thirsty? There's a place just down the road that sells the best hot chocolate, you'll love it!" He said, grabbing my hand to bring me down the road. He wanted to get me hot chocolate?

"I don't have any money, Bill." He looked back at me and laughed.

"I'm buying, dummy. Why would I offer you something and then make you buy it? I'm not that awful." He joked, keeping my hand firmly in his. What. He wants to buy me something?

"You don't need to do that bill. I don't want to be a burden-" I sputtered out, not wanting him to do something he'd regret before he interrupted me.

"Burden?! You?" He stopped walking again and pulled me closer. Our faces were only a couple inches apart now and my hands were in his. "Y/n, you're my girlfriend. If I wanna buy my girlfriend a hot chocolate I'm gonna buy my girlfriend a hot chocolate, 'kay?" I was stunned. I don't understand why he's like this. He's too nice, people are gonna take advantage of that. Nevertheless, I nodded and walked down to where they were selling hot chocolate. Bill made sure to put extra marshmallows on mine. Why was he treating me like this?

We arrived back at his house and he pulled me down onto his bed with him.

"Jesus christ! Your hands are freezing, why didn't you say something." My hands? I guess they're cold. I hadn't noticed. Maybe they had gone numb half way through and that's why. Why did Bill care, they'd warm back up with time.

"It's no big deal Bill, I'll survive.." his eyes went wide like I had two heads.

"Are you insane?! No way!" He grabbed my hands and pulled me closer to him. He rubbed his hands onto mine and wrapped mine tightly in his. "Can't have your fingers falling off. I need someone's hand to hold." I smiled at me and wrapped the blanket around me. I laid my head down on his pillow and closed my eyes. My life wasn't supposed to be like this. I wasn't supposed to have a perfect boyfriend who gets me hot chocolate or warms up my hands for me. I don't deserve this. You don't deserve this. She was back again. She's always there. My mother sitting in the back of my head like there's a throne waiting there for her. Why were her words stuck in me like glue. I'm sick of her constantly belittling me like I'm nothing. But I am. I am nothing. Nothing at all. Just a useless soul that needed to fill an empty body and nothing mor-

"Y/n! Wake up! Are you okay?" Huh..? What was happening? I turned my head and looked outside. It was pitch black out. Had I fallen asleep? I turned back to bill and he looked like he was on the verge of tears. He had shaken me awake from my slumber. "Are. You. Okay?" He asked again, "you were mumbling and crying in your sleep. Did you have a bad dream?" I was crying? My finger tips reached up towards my cheeks. They were wet. I guess I was crying.

"I'm fine, bill. It was nothing." I mumbled and laid back down. His mouth was slightly agape as he crawled closer to me and engulfed me into a hug. He laid kisses all over my face. Why? Why does he care?

"You're not fine, and it's okay to be not fine! Just tell me what's wrong and let me help you!" He said to me as both of his hands caressed my cheeks. Help..me? Like I'm some charity case that needs fixing? I didn't need to be fixed. Yeah maybe I'm not perfect to my mother and maybe I have some fucked up issues but I don't need to be fixed. What the fuck was his problem?! Doesn't he understand I'm perfectly fucking fine!

"I said, I'm fine!" I shouted at him, shoving bill away from me and pushing myself off the bed. I'm perfectly fine and I don't need him telling me what's wrong with me. His head hit the wall by his bed and I could hear a crack. I broke his wall. I don't care. That's his fault. He should've backed off.

I heard him calling out my name along with a couple cries in between. I pulled on my shoes and stormed out the door. I don't need him or anybody or anything! I don't need him treating me like I'm some child who can't control her emotions!

That was 2 weeks ago. I hadn't spoken or even looked at him in two weeks. What was wrong with me? I hurt the only boy who's ever loved me. He probably hates me now. I'm the worst girlfriend in the entire world. Im the stupidest person. You're the most dumb, ugly, disgusting daughter who has ever been seen on this earth.

she's back.

I'm fucked up in the head and I don't know how to fix it. I want to blame my mother and father but it's not their fault, right? They care about me. It's my fault I'm like this. I don't know what I did to deserve this, but I have no one to blame but myself...right?

I was stuck sitting down in a chair while my mother poured goopy foundation onto my skin. We had to go to some classy town thing and I had to actually "look like a girl".

"Maybe if you were naturally beautiful I wouldn't have to waste my time doing this."

"Sorry mama..it's not my fault though..." She glared down at me and smacked the back of my head.

"You're lucky you have foundation on or I would've smacked the shit out of this disgusting face." She gritted between her teeth. Her words were like an awful, greasy poison dripping from her tongue. I hadn't done anything and some how I had made her mad again.

She shoved me into a long, cream colored dress and turned on the ignition. I leaned my head against the side of the door as we drove. Why couldn't I just be the normal, beautiful daughter my mother wanted? If there was a God, he had some serious explaining to do.

"Stop slouching! You think I want a daughter with bad posture?! My god! Can't you do anything right?" The speech. I've heard it a million times since I learned how to talk. How I can't do anything right and I'm just some failure who should've been aborted fifteen years ago. How I ruined my mother's life and how she was going to be a star if it wasn't for me.

It was a long car ride but we finally got there. And the event was even worse. There were so many people and the music was way to loud. I felt like crying. My hands were shaking and I couldn't stop picking at my nails. Women kept coming up and taking to me with their children. Friends of my mothers. I could guess by their judging stares. I looked lady-like and had good posture and was smiling. Why was I being judged, what am I doing wrong again? Why can't I just be normal? A normal girl who doesn't fuck everything up. Doesn't make her parents hate her. Doesn't ruin her parents lives. Doesn't make people feel awkward. Doesn't hurt their boyfriends.

And that was my breaking point. Tears flooded down my cheeks and everybody was staring at me. I stumbled away into another room and sobbed on the floor. I couldn't breathe. My hands hurt from picking at my nails and my face hurt and my body hurt and my eyes were burning and my makeup was surely ruined.

Everything is. I always ruin everything. What the fuck is wrong with me?! The one person who truly cared about me...i..I haven't- I hiccups against the wall and bawled my eyes out. The one person who truly, actually cared about me...I haven't talked to him in two weeks. Then I caught my breath. I stood up and wobbled to the nearest window. I pulled myself out of it and stumbled outside. My whole body hurt so I probably ooked crazy. I could feel mascara was running down my cheeks as I walked through the town.

My arms were freezing cold and I still felt like everybody was watching me. Their beady and judgy eyes staring me down like I was about to go crazy. Well, I guess technically they were right. I just started sobbing in front of everybody so I probably did look insane. You looked insane! What the fuck is wrong with you?! Can't you just act like a girl for once!? That's what my mother said me to in the 3rd grade after a play we did..

I finally got back to my house and looked up to the neighbour's house. Bills house. The light was on in his bedroom. He was awake. I turned back to my door and took a deep breath. I had to say something to him. Right? I had to make him believe I wasn't some crazy person who would push everybody away. Maybe that's what I was though..

I knocked on the door but nobody answered, so I stepped into their house. It was completely dark as I stumbled up the stairs to bills room. I looked at all the happy family pictures they had. God they were so lucky. So lucky to have a perfect family. A father and mother who love them. Having a twin must be great, it's like having a bestfriend for life, right?

As I stepped up the stairs I heard the door open. Bill must've heard me coming up. When he slowly looked around the corner I saw his eyes widen at my awful state. I guess I should've cleaned myself up first, I look a mess. My dress was torn from crawling out the window and my makeup was obviously smeared. I bet my hair wasn't too pretty either.

"Holy shit, y/n?!" He came down the stairs quickly and grabbed my arms, helping me up the stairs, "what happened?! You look...awful."

He sat me down on his bed and I didn't know what to say. I just stared at him. This perfect guy who loves me. I tried to open my mouth and say something but nothing came out. I guess he could tell I wasn't sure what to say because he went to the bathroom and grabbed some wipes.

"Here.." he kneeled down and began to wipe my makeup off. Tears slipped past my waterline as he comforted me. He just sat there looking up at me with a pity smile on his face as he cleaned me up. He took of my hands in his other hand and held it. He really was perfect. He saw him grab some lotion off his desk and rub it around my face after he wiped everything off.

"Come on, why don't we get you into some comfortable clothes okay?" I nodded at him and toyed with my fingers as he picked out some clothes.

I was laying in his arms now. His fingers were combing though my hair as I laid on his chest. I wasn't sure why he was doing this. Any sane person would've just kicked me out, right? I held onto bill tighter whenever he kissed my head and my cheeks. I cuddled up closer to him and nuzzled into his neck.

"I love you, y/n.." bill whispered as I dosed off into my sleep, breathing in his comforting scent and letting tears fall on his skin because he was the only person who was able to make me feel at home.

OKAY THIS TOOK ME LIKE 2 HOURS AND IT ALMOST GOT DELETED BUT THANK GOD IT DIDNT, I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS!!

the end felt kinda rushed but I hope it was still good

taglist: @hearts4kaulitz @burntb4bydoll @spelaelamela @bored0writer @fishinaband @billsleftnutt @dead-tapes @tokiiohot @bluepoptartwithsprinkles @saumspam

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gunnrblze · 16 days

Note

pls yandere keegan hcs....🙏🙏

Sorry this took so long my dear! I’ve not written yandere shit in a millennia, so if it’s corny I apologize💀 also this turned into a little drabble rather than hc’s. MDNI, 18+, dark fic

big TW below the cut: obsessed,possessive Keegan, reference to violence/murder, stalking, manipulation, reference to sexual activity (no actual sex/assault), home invasion, kidnapping, drugging, mentions of being tied up/caged. it’s dark & fucked up, that’s the warning, please heed it don’t come for me

He sees you one day, his heart melting and his cock throbbing in his jeans. You’re so pretty, so precious, and he feels something light him up from the inside out. He wanted to have you. All to himself. He figured you probably didn’t even know how lost you were, not until he stepped into the picture. He was retired from the forces now, he’d been looking for a new project anyways. This would be your rebirth, that’s the way he saw it at least when he decided to follow you home that day.

Scoping out what he’d be working with, your home, how many entrances and exits there are. The neighbors, if you have any roommates/family, pets, alarm systems, etc. To his sheer pleasure, you lived totally alone. He’d change that soon. Don’t worry, honey.

You had a couple ring cameras set up, child’s play, nothing he couldn’t get past. Not that he really cared, of course. He’d have you any way he could get. He’d just hate to have to involve anyone else with his affairs, lest he need to find a more permanent solution. Cop killer isn’t a good look, but if they sniffed around, they’d get what they’d get, he figured.

Taking you would be easy, that wasn’t a problem. He was a silent, experienced man, you hadn’t even noticed how he’d been following you home for the past week anyways. How he’d sit in his truck across the street and watch your figure move around from behind those curtains that were way too sheer. Hell, if he wasn’t planning to rehome you, he’d have to get you new ones. People could see you like that, sweetheart. People that don’t deserve you. Ones that you don’t belong to.

It didn’t matter, really, when exactly he took you, you’d be living a new life with him anyways. He’d already set up such a nice, cozy little spot for you in his basement. He’d snuck in one day while you were at work, he had to know more about you of course. And he knows your favorite color now, so all the blankets and pillows he bought just for you will suit those tastes. He knows your favorite snacks and drinks, he’ll want you to be comfortable of course, especially when you resist at first.

He made sure to memorize all your products, too. So when he helps you wash your hair, you’ll be using the right shampoo. And when he lets you bathe, you can have your favorite scent of body wash. He loves the way you smell anyhow, that scent was wafting off you when he accidentally bumped into you at the grocery store a few days ago.

All the things you enjoyed, he made sure to make a mental note of them. Music, clothes, books, games, any and everything that you filled your space with. He couldn’t believe how lovely you were. Such a beautiful soul, no? You’d be the best addition to the new home and land he’d purchased after retiring, the acres and acres of property, free of any imposing neighbors.

He’d left your home in the exact condition it was in before he broke in, of course. He’d disabled your cameras through your WiFi router, not the best home surveillance, he reckoned, but he had something much more up to the task on his property. Thank god for military training, no? You didn’t even seem to be too concerned when he watched you come home that evening and check them out yourself. Going back and forth between the app on your phone and the camera near your front door in an attempt to figure out why the connection had cut out for a couple hours.

It almost killed him to watch you get so frustrated before finally giving up, going back inside to simply fix your WiFi. He wished he could tell you that sooner rather than later, you wouldn’t have a problem in the world. He’d take them all from you, give you any and everything you need.

He was expecting a fighter, of course. From what he learned, you had an attitude, didn’t take much shit. That asshole in the mall parking lot got an earful when he almost rear ended your car last week, fucker tried to blame it on you. Thankfully he didn’t, but Keegan took care of it anyway after you left.

Had you noticed the missing man on the news was that same guy? Did you realize what he’d done for you? Nobody would ever get to speak to you like that again, sweetheart. Not when he’s around to take care of you.

He packed extra rope in his truck just for you, just in case you were a smarter cookie than you looked. You can never be too careful, always underestimate your enemy, some of the lessons he’d learned during his career seemed to apply here too. Not that you were an enemy, god no, but you’d certainly consider him one for a while. He was just thinking logically, of course.

Thankfully you still had that spare key in the planter next to your front door from when he’d checked for one the first time he went to your house. He thought it was cute, really. How you figured putting it somewhere else, rather than under the mat, was safer.

He wasn’t stupid enough to take you during the day, but he could’ve. He just figured the darkness would hide his figure more easily. It was almost pathetic, how he walked right into your house without making a sound. He knew you were in bed already, part of your night routine. He felt a little bad for turning the WiFi off again when you were in the middle of your show, but it lured you out of your bedroom, thankfully.

Although it was for the best, he understood that you were scared when he silently cupped a hand over your mouth and locked an arm around your waist from behind. So he made sure to replace his hand with the rag very quickly before you fainted in his arms.

It took him a bit longer to get you into his truck than he’d initially planned. Finally getting his hands on you, laying your limp body down on the living room floor to brush the tears off your cheeks, he almost couldn’t stand it. The sight of his sweetheart, finally in his arms, looking too peaceful for words. He wasn’t one to get distracted, certainly not during a time like this either, but he didn’t account for the time it’d take him to get himself under control.

He had to excuse himself to your bedroom for a moment to jerk his rigid dick off into a pair of your dirty panties. He’d hate to drive with a hard on of course, especially when you’d be waking up around the time he arrived home. He didn’t want to be distracted while he brought you inside, considering you’d no doubt be more combative.

And it’s a good thing he knew how to think ahead, because your wrists were already raw against the rope as he dragged you through his front door. He hated to see you cry, hated the way the gag was soaked with your tears and saliva, but he tried telling you it was okay. You didn’t listen of course, flailing like a fish in his arms as he walked down the basement steps. But he’d wait. He’d wait until the day you thank him, until the day you reciprocate his love.

Until then, you can stay shackled to the wall. Please, just don’t make him put you in the cage again. Really, there’s no need to bite, sweetheart.

#call of duty ghosts #call of duty ghosts fic #keegan russ #keegan russ cod #keegan russ call of duty #keegan p russ #call of duty ghosts keegan #call of duty keegan #cod keegan #keegan russ x reader #keegan russ x you #cod ghosts #call of duty #dark fic #gunnrblze rambles #gunnrblze writes

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lovelyney · 2 years

Text

───────DATING HIM !! WANDERER───────

CHARACTERS: wanderer

SCENT: headcanons

WARNINGS: get’s a little suggestive at times, LMAO.

FLORIST’S NOTE: just!!! one!!! million smooches!!! pls!!!

꒱₊˚ 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐑 !! 𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐀𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐅𝐓

𖠵𝟎𝟏: Initially ?? This guy was the biggest twat of all Teyvat, LMFAO. Kinda still is, but shhh. . . He wouldn’t dare let anyone get close to him.

key word being ‘initially’ he came across you one day while wandering the forests of Inazuma and was like, “fuck.”

𖠵𝟎𝟐: It took him a while to fully warm up to you and trust you; you had to put in a reasonable amount of effort to show that you weren’t going anywhere.

he didn’t dare show it to you, but he felt relieved seeing you stick around after how bitterly he treated you.

𖠵𝟎𝟑: He’s always been incredibly protective over you. You’re the first one that’s decided to stick around him; you think he’s just gonna let you run off ?? Fuck no.

𖠵𝟎𝟒: That said, he’s also quite possessive as well. You’re his first love and, frankly, his last; he plans on keeping you for as long as you’ll let him. And if someone attempts to steal you ?? God bless their poor soul.

𖠵𝟎𝟓: A cocky bastard forever and always ‹3 He loves whenever you two go back and forth.

𖠵𝟎𝟔: Before, he, quite frankly, rarely showed affection. But after he was defeated, he became much more open to it since he didn’t care what people thought of him.

he also just wanted to make up for the times he didn’t give you enough love or was being a nightmare, but you didn’t hear it from me.

𖠵𝟎𝟕: He loves to tease you !! Seeing your cheeks flush because of him is the biggest ego boost putting aside whenever you’re crying out his name he can ever receive.

𖠵𝟎𝟖: Kisses you like the world’s going to end tomorrow. His kisses are always incredibly passionate and deep.

he has always loved making out with you, for some reason. he says it’s “a gentle reminder that you're mine and mine alone.” like ?? you call THAT gentle ??

shoving his tongue down your throat is his favorite pastime.

𖠵𝟎𝟗: Calls you “sweetheart,” “(my) love,” and “(my) princess/prince.”

❝I have a feeling I don’t say this as much as I should, given how much it kills my ego. But, I love you, alright? I hope you never doubt that despite how much of a pain in the ass I can be sometimes. But hey, it takes one to know one, sweetheart.❞

𖠵𝟏𝟎: 10000% pulls you close to him when it rains, so you don’t get wet. Sometimes he even lets you wear his hat just by itself !! (Alhough, the latter is more likely as it gives him a reason to keep you close.)

𖠵𝟏𝟏: Sometimes, when you two are out and about in the cities of Sumeru, Nahida likes to pop in to see how you two are doing!

she always tells you that he’s fortunate to have you and that she’s thankful that he has someone like you.

𖠵𝟏𝟐: In more crowded places, he’ll always hold a little bit more tightly onto your hand, scared that you’re going to get lost and potentially hurt.

𖠵𝟏𝟑: Holds you tightly and close whenever you two sleep, scared that you’re going to vanish the next time he opens his eyes.

𖠵𝟏𝟒: Whenever he’s deep in thought, he’ll always absentmindedly play with your fingers.

𖠵𝟏𝟓: Your entire presence is an immense comfort for him. He finds himself thinking that he wishes he could’ve found you sooner.

𖠵𝟏𝟔: Always watches over you whenever you’re doing something, making sure you don’t accidentally hurt yourself.

𖠵𝟏𝟕: Has a deep bitter resentment towards Childe since he constantly flirted with you back when he was in the Fatui 💀

𖠵𝟏𝟖: At home, he’s attached to you at the hip. Whenever you’re cooking, he’ll back-hug you, resting his chin on your shoulder.

sometimes he’ll use the excuse of “you’re obviously not strong enough to stir this so let me help you” just to hold your hand.

𖠵𝟏𝟗: Seeing you play with children brings forth a new wave of emotions for him.

𖠵𝟐𝟎: Sometimes bruises you from hard he grips you.

𖠵𝟐𝟏: Putting aside his anemo vision, fully loving and watching over you has given him a new type of freedom.

𖠵𝟐𝟐: You didn’t talk to him for a while after what he did to Nahida, and because he completely neglected your loyalty to him. Safe to say, it taught him a lesson, LMFAO.

during his resting period, he informed Nahida all about your relationship and how much he actually missed you after all of it; how, after the sour taste of defeat, he’d kill to be resting in your arms.

he cried in your arms for a long while when he finally found you; he missed you a lot more than he ever thought he would.

𖠵𝟐𝟑: Listen, just because he’s a lot kinder now doesn’t mean he still isn’t a little sadistic. . . He still loves to see you squirm from underneath him.

𖠵𝟐𝟒: When he gets nightmares, or his abandonment issues are running high, he’ll lay on top of you so you can comb your fingers through his hair. ‹33

𖠵𝟐𝟓: Loves to mark you on places that are easily spottable. That way people hopefully know to back the hell off.

𖠵𝟐𝟔: He has pretty hands !! He doesn’t see the purpose in your fascination with them or why you like to play with them, but he finds it cute, endearing almost.

𖠵𝟐𝟕: Quick to snap at anyone who’s getting too close to you or is raising their voice.

𖠵𝟐𝟖: Kept you completely hidden from Dottore; he does not trust him around you in any way.

𖠵𝟐𝟗: Now that he has you, he wouldn’t trade you for the stars or any of the planets.

𖠵𝟑𝟎: Always aggressively gives you affection when you ask for it.

while holding onto you: “is this better?😡😡”

“yes, thank you, Kuni ‹3”

“good, it better be because now i’m not gonna let you go😡”

𖠵𝟑𝟏: (↑) He’s also rather aggressive when taking of you when you’re injured or sick—that’s just how he projects his worries.

𖠵𝟑𝟐: Will sometimes threaten to drop you whenever he’s holding you and floating in the air 😭

𖠵𝟑𝟑: Actively seeks out opportunities to hold your waist/have his hands on your waist. The way they fit around it brings him a sense of satisfaction and pride.

𖠵𝟑𝟒: Only cooks/buys you the best quality of food; he will not have it any other way. If food is something that’s required for you to live, then he will only give you the best to ensure you staying alive.

this means he will not have you skipping meals or not eating !! ):< he’ll figure out the root of the reason why, try to fix it, and continue to feed you smaller portions of the meals he cooks.

#|✿| — 𝐅𝐀𝐖𝐍’𝐒 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 #|✿| — 𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐁𝐈𝐔𝐌𝐒 #genshin impact x y/n #genshin impact x you #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact headcanons #scaramouche headcanons #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x reader #wanderer headcanons #wanderer x reader #wanderer x y/n #wanderer x you #wanderer #scaramouche

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honey-riley · 4 months

Text

Love You To Death || S.R.

WARNINGS: Military themes, guns, weapons, violence, detailed gore, mentions of Simon's past.

A/N: This contains an OC :) her name is Honey Tailer (my user is after her 🫡), she's German, so I hope you brought your google translate or other translators. There are more descriptors of her in the story itself <3

A/N pt.2: I'm learning German, and for most of the dialog in German, I use a translator. So, if anything is incorrect in German, don't behead me pls.

wc: 5.9k

1 || 2

War.

That's all that ever ran through him. A traumatized, mean, brooding war machine. Ever since he was little, that's all he could remember. The war within his household, the constant abuse that his father passed around. The constant abuse he endured as a child had profound and lasting effects on him. It shaped his worldview, eroded his sense of self-worth, and left him with deep emotional scars that manifested in his brooding and mean demeanor. The war within his household became the war within himself, and it consumed him every day.

He had never truly felt warmth. Sure, he had happy moments, moments where he could forget the trauma, moments where the gray cloud looming above him would clear. But only for a moment. He was human after all. The impact of his traumatic childhood on his relationships was profound. He struggled to form deep connections with others, always keeping them at arms length, afraid of being hurt again. His fear of vulnerability and his need for control made it difficult for him to trust and open up to others, resulting in a cycle of loneliness and isolation.

Riddling himself with routines, sticking to schedules, running everything in a timely, comfortable manner is what he loves. What he thrived on. It was something that he knew he could rely on. Every morning, he would wake up at the exact same time, following a strict routine that he had meticulously planned out. From the moment he opened his eyes to the moment he closed them again at night, every minute of his day was accounted for. He found solace in the predictability of his schedule, as it provided a sense of control and stability in a chaotic world. His routines became his lifeline, a way for him to regain some semblance of order in his life and protect himself from the unpredictable nature of human interactions.

So, the day that someone broke that routine for him, that was a day that he was going to remember.

Preparing for a mission, he went in with his normal routine - shower, get his gear on, put the mask on, prepare mentally, head to base, scan in, have breakfast, pack his tactical vest, check his gear, clean his weapons, and head out to the chopper by 0400.

This time, when he got to the chopper, there was a new face. Striking green eyes, long black hair that was slicked back into a regulatory military bun, fair skin, and God, was she short. Standing at four feet, eleven inches, just barely meeting the height requirements.

"Lieutenant." Laswell nodded as he approached. "This is Sergeant Honey Tailer, hope you don't mind her joining you today." She added with a smile. Ghost stuck his hand out for Honey to shake, which she accepted, giving him a firm shake back.

He took in her appearance one more time, noting her black, polished boots, her uniform, which wasn't digital camo, but more like spotted camo. She had a German flag on her shoulders and on her tactical vest.

"My pleasure, Lieutenant." She smiled softly, her German accent apparent in her words. It wasn't strong, it was subtle, she sounded like she had been speaking English her entire life - but she hadn't.

"It's great to meet you, Sergeant." He nodded, releasing her hand.

"Honey's going to be your DM for today. She'll provide surveillance, make sure you guys keep your heads." Laswell grinned as she looked over at Honey. DM, or designated marksman, was a good position to be in - a position that they needed in the team.

The team then loaded into the chopper, strapping into their seats. Honey's rifle sat on her chest, the barrel pointing to the tin floor of the chopper as she looked out of the window. She stared off, lost in thought, devising a plan on how she would go about this. It was an in and out mission, quick and easy - if things went according to plan.

Honey would provide recon and examine from a distance, while the team went in, gathering intel, hopefully going undetected, then Soap would plant the bombs, they would all get back onto the chopper, where Soap would detonate them.

"You'll do just fine, kid." Price's gruff voice snapped her out of thought as he patted her on the shoulder. Honey shot him a small, tight lipped, slightly nervous smile. She was used to this kind of stuff, but to work with a team she had never met, find her groove all over again, and to do it in time, was nerve wracking.

"This isn't your first time, right?" Ghost grunted as he looked over at her, his voice deep, almost like a growl.

"No, sir. I've been deployed multiple times." She replied with a nod.

Ghost took that in an almost snooty, stuck up way. Like she was so young, and she had all this experience, and she sounded like she was bragging about it. That irked him.

Instead of saying anything, he stayed quiet, crossing his arms over his chest. To pass the time, Honey put her AirPods in, and turned on some music, letting out a small sigh as she leaned back into her chair.

There was something about her that Ghost didn't find appealing. Something about her annoyed him, but he couldn't tell what it was.

The metallic sound of her ring clanking against her rifle as she tapped her fingers to the beat of the song she was listening to only made his annoyance grow.

"Wha' song are ye listenin' to?" Soap asked, nudging her.

"Oh, Love You To Death by Type O Negative." Honey said, looking over at him with a small smile.

"Damn, gothic stuff." Soap chuckled, cuing Honey to nod. "Yer pal, Ghostie over there loves that kind of music." Soap chuckled, nodding towards Ghost, making him let out a small scoff.

Not only was Honey now annoying him, she also had the same taste in music? That felt like it wasn't going to fly with him for whatever reason. He was already annoyed that his routine had been disrupted, and now, her presence alone annoyed him more.

"Alright, team. We're landing in Verdansk, just to refresh, you are to take out Makarov. He's in a highly guarded area, with plenty of people surrounding him." Laswell said over the comms.

"Copy." Honey replied, letting out a small sigh. She was the one who was tasked with disturbing the hive - taking out Makarov. She had already been filled in on why they needed him dead, and all the other necessary things such as his identity, where he would be at, his rank, what he looked like.

Once the chopper landed Price divided everyone into partners, and one trio. Ghost and Honey were tasked with surveillance. Ghost was Honey's spotter.

'I'm gonna be stuck with this annoying, snooty, stuck up bitch?' Ghost thought to himself. He kept his opinions inward, thankfully. Usually, with new recruits, he was very vocal about his disdain for them. This time, he kept his mouth shut, just wanting to get the mission done quicker.

Honey established a sniper's nest, and laid on the roof of the building opposite of where the team would be infiltrating.

"What's the drag?" Honey whispered, looking through her iron sights, ready to set her rifle up.

"Not a clue." Ghost grunted as he looked through the scope of his own rifle, adjusting accordingly. He did know, he just wanted her to struggle a bit, make her more 'human' in his eyes.

"You're no help." Honey muttered under her breath, looking down her iron sights again. She glanced over at Ghost for a moment, turning to her own rifle, contemplating something.

She deftly reached over, sliding the scope off of his rifle.

'Now she's trying to fuck with my gear?' Ghost scorned in his own mind. He looked over at her, his brows furrowed under his mask before he snatched his scope back, sliding it back on.

"Du erzeugst ein Glitzern." She growled, taking it back off.

"English." Ghost muttered under his breath, starting to get pissed off.

"You're creating a glint. There's people in that building that can see you because of your scope." She growled, looking over at the moon for a second before looking back at him. She subtly lifted her hand, pointing at the opposing building, and indeed, a faint reflection from the scope could be seen if you knew where to look.

He let out an audible scoff, rolling his eyes. He adjusted his rifle, getting used to just using his iron sights.

"It's a 42 meter separation, the wind is blowing south-east. We're facing north-west. The wind is 6 knots. Light breeze." He replied, telling her what she would need to adjust her rifle.

"Any visuals on Makarov?" Laswell said through the comms.

Honey glanced through a pair of binoculars for a second, seeing Makarov working at a table in an empty room, his back turned to the window.

"Positive. Black, short hair, suit, I can't tell how tall he is, but Ghost can verify that it's him." Honey replied through the comms. "It's him, Kate." Ghost muttered into the comms. "Permission to take the shot?" Honey asked Laswell.

"Granted." Laswell replied.

Honey put down the binoculars and Ghost picked them up, ready to watch Honey shoot Makarov.

Honey lined up her shot, calculating the drag, and the possible path that the bullet would take once it hit the glass. Doubt nibbled at the edges of her mind, raising its voice as her finger hovered over the trigger. But she pushed it away, reminding herself of the countless hours of training. She took a deep breath, pulling the rifle tight to her shoulder, holding her breath so that the shot was steady. She loaded her chamber, taking the rifle off of safety, and slowly squeezed the trigger.

Ghost's heart raced. He felt a pang of jealousy, mixed with a swirl of emotions. 'This should've been mine,' He thought, his chest tightening. 'This is my team. What does she think she's doing, muscling in on my territory?' His fists clenched around the binoculars, sweat dripping from his temple.

The bullet shattered through the glass, sending a gory red mist into the air as Makarov's head exploded. Ghost's jaw clenched as his anger bubbled, the realization of what just happened setting in.

Honey laid her rifle down, staying on her stomach as she glanced over to Ghost. She could see the tension in his body, the balaclava clinging to his face with each heavy gasp for air. Unsure of how to respond to Ghost's obvious displeasure, she gave him a small, tight lipped, reassuring smile.

Ghost glared back, his eyes filled with the intensity of his rage. 'She's taken everything from me,' he thought. 'I can't let her win. I can't let her take this from me too.'

In the aftermath, the team sat in stunned silence, their gazes fixed on the lifeless body now sprawled on the floor. The reality of their success hung in the air, a weighty, shared accomplishment that lingered, tainted by Ghost's bitter resentment. This was a man that they had been tracking for years and Honey came in and shot him like it was nothing. Like it was the easiest thing in the world. And God, that smile afterwards pissed him off so much more.

'What the fuck is she doing? This was supposed to be my job. What the hell does she know about shooting?' Ghost fought with himself internally. He hated this. He ha=ted everything about her.

The pair watched as the team infiltrated the room, occasional gunfire sounding through the air. Honey watched as Soap went in, took a laptop and all the needed files, planting a few bombs on his way out.

Honey stood up, grabbing her rifle, unloading the chamber and putting it back onto safety. Ghost stood up as well, grabbing his own rifle, storming his way back down the flight of stairs to the ground floor.

"Ghost." Honey said as she followed him, her rifle slung over her back. He didn't bother waiting for her, or even listening to her. He silently stormed his way back to the chopper, getting in, and buckling himself up.

Honey set their things back where they belonged on the chopper, ensuring that nothing would fall out. There was an awkward silence as they waited for the rest of the team to get back to where the chopper was. Nikolai sat in the cockpit.

"How was the mission? You finally nail him?" Nikolai grinned, his thick Russian accent apparent in his words as he looked back through the door, glancing at Ghost.

"Honey did." Ghost muttered, his fists balled under his biceps as he crossed his arms. "Her shot was just luck." He added, looking outside of the chopper, avoiding eye contact. He knew it was more than luck - it was skill, but he didn’t want to admit it.

Honey winced at his words, looking over at him, her eyes narrowing slightly. She glanced away, keeping her eyes off of him. She had always been doubted. She had worked her entire life for this moment, and the entire time, she had been doubted. She didn't know why it even hurt at this point - she should've expected it. But, she was going to stand up for herself for once - even if it didn't work.

Honey looked at him, her brow furrowing. "Luck?" She asked, her voice slightly hurt. "I took the damn shot, calculated it. I did everything I needed to. And it's just luck? I’ve worked my entire life for this, I’ve worked my ass off. Making sure that I could make a damn shot." She added. Honey wanted to get frustrated, she wanted to argue, but she took a deep breath, keeping her mouth shut.

Ghost's jaw dropped slightly at her response. His glare softened, his unwavering anger faltering for the first time. He didn't know what to say to counter her words, her confidence - and for once, he found himself at a loss.

'All of my years of practicing, honing, just for it to be chalked up to luck? Fuck this guy.' Honey thought to herself, letting out a sigh. She wanted to be on this team, she had worked for it for years. She wanted to be on the top - the best of the best, and this was her chance. She wasn't going to ruin it.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the rest of the team getting into the chopper, carrying files, laptops, and USB sticks. Everything that they could get their hands on that could be important, they took.

"Let's watch this puppy blow." Soap chuckled as he buckled into the chopper. Nikolai lifted the chopper off the ground, getting it a distance away before Soap pressed the button, making the entire building explode and collapse in on itself.

Honey watched as the orange and yellow flames licked the air, huge billows of smoke and debris shooting up into the air.

"Christ." Honey murmured, watching the smoke shoot up. The blast wave then hit the chopper, making it sway and vibrate. Nikolai quickly corrected, starting their flight back. The flight back to base was almost silent, everyone processing what had just happened, and why it had happened.

'Why was Honey the one to kill Makarov? Why was this new recruit the one who got to end the man we had fought to kill for years? And why was it so easy for her?' Ghost was furious at the thought of it.

'Why did she get the pleasure? The satisfaction?'

When they got back to base, Ghost just wanted to get his report filled and then think things through in his quarters, but of course, Laswell had other plans.

"You and Honey are bunking together." Laswell said as she opened the door to his quarters. Honey stood behind Laswell, her bag slung on her shoulder as well as a few other things in her hands - two pillows and a blanket.

"What about Soap?" Ghost asked, looking over at the other bed in the room - the bed where Soap slept. That side of the room was blank, Soap moved rooms.

"Soap bunked with Gaz. We don't have another room for Honey, so she's going with you." Laswell said, turning around and walking away. Honey came in quietly, her steps silent.

She placed her things on the bed, avoiding him. She busied herself with the task of getting her things set up - making the bed, putting her things in her dresser and closet.

"There are rules here." Ghost grunted as he watched her, his attention drawn away from his paperwork.

"Keep your shit on your side of the room, keep it clean, keep it neat, and don't talk to me." He added. Honey didn't do anything but nod as she folded her clothes. Pajamas, uniforms, dress uniforms, civilian clothes - they were all put away neatly.

There was something about her, something that kept his attention away from his paperwork. Something that kept him from focusing. Maybe it was the rage towards her, maybe it was the envy - there was something. Something that he hated. Something that Simon despised. Ghost hated it more.

What do we think of the first part, y'all? Do we love it? Hate it? Eh? Lmk what I can work on as well! My ask me is still open :))

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