#4k headset

[itisi-asimplegay]

iiiiive decided to Do Podfic!

do I know anything about recording shit?

barely!

do I know anything about audio editing?

nope!

am I excited as hell?

yeah!!!!!!!!!

[gamingheadsets-1]

FOR MORE PRODUCTS CONTACT US AT https://gamingparadise.in/

[virtualrealitynewstoday]

Sony推出全新的沉浸式空間內容創作系統4K OLED和搭配Snapdragon® XR2 Gen 2 的XR頭戴式顯示器

Sony宣布他們正在開發一個令人振奮的創新空間內容創作系統。其包含一個配備高質量的4K OLED Microdisplays和視訊穿透功能的XR頭戴式顯示器，以及一對針對直觀互動和精確指向3D物體的控制器。這個系統旨在支援創作者進行高度複雜的3D內容創作。索尼計劃與各種3D製作軟件的開發者合作，包括娛樂和工業設計領域的軟件。首次推出時，索尼將獨家與西門子合作，使用西門子Xcelerator開放數字業務平台的軟件，推出一個全新的解決方案，用於實現沉浸式設計和協作產品工程。 其搭載了XR頭戴式顯示器，配備4K OLED…

[munsonsmixtapes]

Slugger

Evan "Buck" Buckley x shy!probie!fem!reader

summary: you're the newest member of the 118 and Buck will stop at nothing to tease you as a form of flirting and you believe that he doesn't like you, but Eddie is going to do whatever he can to set the two of you up.

word count: 4k

cw: miscommunication, hurt/comfort, jealousy, reader gets hit on by a creep and it’s a little unsettling

part two part three part four part five

As soon as you stepped foot into the fire house, you were convinced that you were home. You couldn't explain it, but it was a lot more cozy than you would have thought. When you looked up and saw the rest of the crew eating a meal together like a family, you knew you were in the right place. You hadn't heard of departments doing that and knowing that they were like family to each other was refreshing.

You adjusted your bag on your shoulder and slowly made your way up the steps on the hunt for Captain Nash who you knew you needed to report to. And you were nervous to say the least. You always had a bit of anxiety lingering, but especially when it came to a new situation with a new place and people. This was all three and you were honestly just applauding yourself for even getting at far as you did.

As soon as you got to the top step, every single head turned to look at you. You felt your anxiety reach its peak as you realized that you were the center of attention and suddenly felt the urge to throw up. You noticed that everyone had even stopped eating in favor of getting a look at you and it took everything in you to not run down the steps and never come back.

"Hello," the man at the head of the table greeted as he waved you over. "And who might you be?" Your name suddenly floated out of your brain as the man waited for you to answer.

You told him your name once you finally remembered it and the man smiled, waving you over to the table.

"You're just in time for dinner. Take a seat." There was a seat at the end and you reluctantly set your bag in the floor before taking a seat.

"Welcome to the 118," the man next to you spoke. You turned to him and couldn't help but notice how pretty his brown eyes were.

"Thank you," you nodded as the man sitting across from you handed you a bowl that was full of spaghetti. You took it from him and couldn't help but noticed that he was eyeing you suspiciously. Maybe he was thinking that you were a fraud just like you were. He was definitely onto you.

"You're welcome. I'm Eddie," the man put his hand out for you to shake with a bright smile and you completely abandoned the bowl that was being held out to you. You shook Eddie's hand and you couldn't help but notice that it was soft but rough.

"Y/n," you replied softly even though he definitely already knew that since you had just said it. Eddie took the bowl from Buck and served you some of the pasta and the salad along with some garlic bread.

"So, it looks like we've got a new probie," the man across from you spoke. "We haven't had one of those since Ravi."

"Probie?" You had never heard that term before and by the way everyone was looking at you, you assumed that you should have known what it meant.

"Probational firefighter," Eddie replied, leaning closer to you before leaning back up before continuing to eat his meal. You just nodded and began to eat, the man across from you eyeing you for longer than you would have liked.

Buck gave you small smile then went back to his spaghetti and everyone engaged in conversation while you sat there silently, just content to be there.

Just as you were getting comfortable, the siren went off and everyone but you got up from their chairs, making a dash for the engine.

“You coming, probie?” Buck asked as he stopped at the top of the stairs. You got up and followed him, rushing to the engine where the only available spot was in between him and Eddie.

Eddie handed you a headset and you put it on, turning to him just in time to see his warm smile and you mimicked it, feeling grateful to have someone who was nice to you. You could feel Buck nudge you and you turned to your left to see what he wanted.

“I’m Buck, by the way,” he smiled and you thought he was cute, especially his little birth mark right by his eye. “And that’s Hen,” he pointed to the Black woman across from him. “And Chimney.” The Asian man next to Hen gave you a wave and Buck didn’t miss the confused look on your face. “Don’t ask,” he laughed. “And then that’s Ravi,” he pointed to the Indian next to the left of Chimney.

“It’s really nice to meet you,” Hen smiled. “I’m looking forward to having another woman in the department if it works out.” You wouldn’t have expected everyone to be so nice on a job like fire fighting and it warmed your heart that they were so welcoming.

“Same to you,” you replied and you began to pick at the skin around your finger nails, trying your hardest to not hum to yourself, something you often did when you were nervous or anxious.

The ride to the call seemed much shorter than it was as you listened to everyone exchange conversation. People usually called you out for being quiet, but you didn’t ever feel the need to speak unless you were spoken to or had something of value to say.

And the 118 seemed to respect that. No one commented on it and you found that odd. At least one person usually had something to say, but they all just talked amongst themselves and would occasionally involve you so you wouldn’t feel left out.

They were a family and that much was obvious, but even on your first day, they were so inclusive, trying their hardest to make you feel like one of them.

Once the engine pulled up to the scene, all of you got out and hurried to the fire that was taking over the house in front of you. You watched Buck, Eddie, and Ravi race inside while Hen and Chimney checked on everyone who was already out of the house. The fire was huge, consuming the house with it's bright orange hue and you desperately wished you could have followed the others into the house.

Your job was to get the others supplies when requested and to assist where help was needed. You really wished that you could have been in the action like everyone else, but you knew that it was just the way it was when you first started out on the job. You were still new and needed to prove yourself before you could really showcase how good you really were.

Ravi came running out with a cat in his arms that somehow seemed unharmed and passed it off to the little girl who had been crying for it. You hoped to be able to do that soon. That was the whole reason why you had even wanted to become a firefighter; to help people. But for the time being, you were going to go above and beyond by doing anything that was asked of you. That was all you really could do until your probation was up.

"Probie, hose!" Buck called out as he rushed out of the house and you quickly hurried to the engine and grabbed the hose before racing over to him. He had everyone clear back then turned on the hose, moving it back and forth to diffuse the fire.

The fire slowly died down and Buck handed the hose back to you which you put away and once everyone was taken care of, you all piled into the engine, you finding yourself between Buck and Eddie again.

Eddie clapped you on the shoulder with a smile that matched everyone else's. They applauded you for you first call and you were beginning to think that maybe you were going to really like it there.

"You actually did a good job, probie," Buck told you and you weren’t sure if that was an insult or an compliment. The word "actually" led you to believe to that he didn't think you were up to the job and that offended you a little. That because you were on probation didn't mean you were cut out to work with him. You had gone through all the training and schooling that he had, so why was he giving you such a hard time?

"Don't mind Buck," Eddie was the one to nudge you this time. "He just likes to tease. Ease up, alright?" He leaned over to look at his friend. "It's her first day." Eddie didn't know why, but he felt the need to protect you.

“I’m just teasing,” Buck replied. “She can take it,” he nudged you. Could you, though?

The rest of the shift was nothing but tiring as you responded to multiple calls and by the end of it, you were beginning to feel super sore even though you hadn’t done nearly as much as the others. You knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but that was what you liked about it. You felt like you always needed to be challenged and maybe this was finally going to be the job for you.

It had been a week since you started working with the 118 crew and you really did feel like you were fitting in with everyone. Well, everyone except Buck. He was especially hard on you and you weren’t sure why since all the others seemed to think you were doing a pretty good job. He’d tell you that the dishes weren’t washed the right way or that you missed a spot when wiping down the engine. The rest of the crew told him to knock it off, but he wouldn’t let up.

Buck wasn’t doing it because he didn’t think you were good enough, he just felt like you needed a little push. You were working hard, but he felt like you needed to work harder. He was just trying to make you into the best firefighter that you could be, and yeah, maybe sometimes he was being a bit too harsh, but really, all he was trying to do was help.

But that wasn’t the way you saw it. At that point, you were just convinced that he didn’t like you. He just wasn’t as nice as the other’s in the crew and he certainly wasn’t going to tell you what his intentions were. You’d never admit it, but he was starting to frustrate you. Bobby was the one in charge and here Buck was trying to tell you what to do. It was infuriating.

You weren’t going to tell him that, though. When you were angry with people, you tended to just ignore them and pretend that they weren’t there. You weren’t a fan of confrontation so that was the only way to let people know that you were upset. And you felt like it really sent the message in a more subtle way.

Buck didn’t seem to take your silence as anger, though. He just continued on with his teasing and pointing out your wrongs like nothing had changed. Maybe you should have taken a different approach, but what was done was done.

The only thing that seemed to make it worse was the fact that you and Buck turned out to live in the same apartment building. You saw him one night when you were getting off He awkwardly made small talk with you but you just acted as if he wasn’t there, completely ignoring him until the elevator got to your floor. Maybe it was more rude that you were willing to admit, but you had a point to prove.

Every time Buck saw you in the elevator, though, he still tried to act as if the two of you were actually friends. He would try and make jokes with you and when he was feeling a bit more confident, he would even get a little flirty, loving the way you would get all flustered and lower your head so he couldn’t see the adorable look on your face.

Then came the night at the bar. The 118 insisted on taking you out to celebrate your first week and everyone discovered that you were a completely different person when you drank. You were significantly more outgoing to the point where they were convinced that you were someone else. The normal you definitely wouldn’t have danced on the bar.

Buck watched you and Eddie from the other end of the table. He had his arm draped over the back of your chair and he was leaning into you as the two of you whispered and giggled with each other. It made Buck sick, but there was no way in hell that he’d admit that.

“Hey probie,” Buck called from across the table and both you and Eddie’s giggles were cut short, the two of you turning to the man who was trying to get your attention. “You wanna play some pool?”

You nodded enthusiastically and pulled Eddie along even though the invitation wasn’t extended to him. There was no way you were going to be alone with Buck for that long. The three of you headed to the table that was across from the one where you were sitting and Eddie handed you a cue which you gratefully took.

“I don’t know how to play,” you told him. “Can you teach me?”

“Yeah, no problem.” Eddie talked you through the game and you listened and nodded despite knowing exactly how to play. You were just trying to get him to actually help you. You wanted him to stand behind you and help you guide the cue where it was supposed to go.

Buck was the one to break and then the balls were assigned to the three of you. You were pretty good at the game, but you were just trying to get Eddie’s attention, wanting him to help you in any way that he could.

“Can you show me?” You bat your lashes and Buck could see what you were up to, able to see right through all your tricks and he had to admit that you were good.

“Of course,” Eddie nodded and moved to stand behind you. He placed his hands on top of yours and guided you, causing the ball you wanted to hit to be launched into one of the pockets. Buck could feel his blood boiling when you stood on your toes to press a kiss to Eddie’s cheek and was very tempted to throw in the towel right there.

Eddie helped you throughout the entire game and Buck was suspiciously quiet as he watched the two of you. He didn’t like the way Eddie would drape his arm over your shoulder and tuck you into his side. He also didn’t like the way he’d lean down to listen to what you had to say because you were so soft spoken.

What was so great about Eddie? Sure, the guy was his best friend, so he could see it, but what did you see in him? What was the thing that set him apart from Buck? Maybe it was because Buck had a history of sleeping around and that none of his relationships lasted very long, but that wasn’t necessarily his fault.

It was down to Buck and Eddie and they were both competing to hit the black eight ball. Buck seemed to be hitting it a bit too hard and Eddie wondered what was causing him to be so competitive. Anytime they played, it was always a friendly game and now he was acting like he wanted Eddie dead. He was going to have to ask him about it later.

It was Buck’s turn to hit the ball and he turned to you to see if you were watching only to see you applying some lip gloss. You dropped it and bent down to pick it up, giving him a great view of your ass. He was so occupied with his staring that he wasn’t paying attention and hit the ball without even looking.

“Ha!” Eddie pointed at him. “You scratched so I win.”

“That’s not fair!” Buck retorted, putting the cue stick away. He really didn’t believe that it was. He was only human and didn’t think it was fair that he only lost because you had distracted him.

“Life’s not fair, Buckley,” Eddie laughed. “Well, I’m gonna head out and get Chris to bed. Y/n, you need a ride home?”

“No thanks. I think I’m gonna hang here a while.”

“You’ll stay with her?” Eddie asked and who was Buck to say no?

“Yeah, sure, probie, I’ll keep you company,” he patted your shoulder and Eddie gave you and Buck hugs before heading out to his truck, leaving the two of you alone. Both Hen and Ravi left a while ago so it was just the two of you and a few others still there.

Maybe you really were drunk since you were willing to spend time with him. You pulled him over to the bar to get another drink and he was hoping that he could get you to see that he really wasn’t all bad. That he was a nice guy and that he was completely willing to show that to you if you would have let him.

There was a man to the far left, nursing a beer and you briefly made eye contact with him, giving him a smile before turning back to Buck. He, for whatever reason, took that as an invitation to come over to you and got a little close for your liking. You moved closer to Buck to show the man that you were with someone, but that didn’t seem to deter him.

“Hey, pretty lady,” he greeted and you could feel bile rising in your throat. You ignored him and felt a little guilty for doing so, but you knew that you weren’t required to be nice to him.

“Hi,” Buck replied, sensing that you were uncomfortable. As a man, he didn’t see why other men preyed on people when they were clearly uncomfortable. Why they never took no for an answer and would try their hardest to take what they wanted, not caring who they hurt in the process.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” the man shot back with a glare. “C’mon, don’t be shy. I won’t bite. Unless you ask,” he winked and you could feel the anger building up inside you. You had been told those words so many times in your life and you were sick and tired of that being a problem for people. Especially men that were trying to hit on you.

“I’m not interested, thank you,” you turned to him and he put on a smile. You also hated that you felt obligated to be polite and felt like someone bad would have happened if you didn’t. What was so wrong with saying no? Why did you feel like you had to spare their feelings when you were the one who was uncomfortable?

“Ah, so she speaks.” You could smell the alcohol on his breath as he got closer and your stomach lurched as you felt like there was no return.

“Can you please leave me alone? You’re making me very uncomfortable.” That only made him step closer and you stepped away, your back colliding with Buck’s chest and he rested his hands on your arms, pulling you into him.

“Oh, is this your boyfriend? I’m into threesomes,” he tried to reach out and grab your hand, but you pulled it away before he could, the bile coming up more quickly now.

“She said to leave her alone,” Buck said. He could see your shaking hands and wondered why your fear wasn’t making the guy let up. He was about to do something drastic until the man spoke up again.

“Why don’t you make me?” Without another word and only having thought about it for a split second, your fist collided with his face, the force causing him to stumble back.

You could see the anger in his eyes as he lifted his head and blood poured from his nose as you shook your hand, hoping that would get rid of the pain, but it didn’t. He clutched his nose then made a beeline for the bathroom to clean himself up, giving you and Buck the perfect chance to call it a night.

Both you and Buck gasped at your actions and you both hurried to pay your tabs before Buck took your hand and pulled you out of the bar to his jeep. All you could think about was how guilty you felt for punching the guy, but you knew that Buck would have just told you that he deserved it.

And maybe he did. He was crossing a boundary and definitely needed to be put in his place. And yeah, maybe a punch wasn’t the best move, but it was the first thing you thought of to do and clearly it had worked.

“Damn, I didn’t peg you for a slugger, probie,” Buck laughed as he opened the passenger door of his jeep for you.

“I’m not. I mean, I know how to, but I never thought I’d have to throw a punch.”

“Well, he deserved it. Are you okay? Can I get you anything? I know that can be scary and I want to make sure you’re good before I take you home.”

“I’m good, Buck. Thank you. For everything.”

“Of course,” he nodded. “Your chariot awaits, ma’am,” he opened the door wider and you got into the seat before he closed it and got in on his side.

You thought he was going to start the vehicle up, but instead, he reached over and opened the glove compartment and pulled out a small first aid kit. He set it on top of the console and pulled out an alcohol pad, some antibacterial gel and some gauze.

“Can I see your hand?” You held it out to him and he opened the alcohol pad before rubbing the stranger’s blood off of your knuckles before putting on some of the gel and wrapping it up in the gauze. “Be sure to put some ice on it when you get home,” he said before letting go of your hand and you almost didn’t want him to. It was soft but rough and you immediately wanted to grab it and intertwine your fingers, letting them rest together on the center console.

The car ride on the way to your building was silent and you were on the fence about how you felt about it. A part of you liked it since the bar had been so overstimulating, but the other wanted to fill it so you wouldn’t have any opportunity to think about all of the things that made you anxious.

You wondered if Buck was going to behave that way with you from now on or if it was a one off because of the alcohol. Granted, he hadn’t had a drink in hours, but still. He was being so caring and thoughtful and you couldn’t help but wonder what had changed.

Buck, on the other hand, still wasn’t able to realize that he was crushing on you. The jealousy that coursed through him when you were with Eddie should have been a tip off, but it wasn’t. He was still convinced that he was just protective, but really, that was the role that Eddie had taken on.

Or maybe he knew how he felt, but was suppressing it because of his dating history. People didn’t seem to want to be with him for very long and he was beginning to think that he was the problem. Everyone was always leaving him behind and he couldn’t stand to add you to that list.

He didn’t think he was good enough anyway. Eddie was the one that you deserved. He was sweet and kind and obviously cared for you. And he seemed to be more of an adult than Buck was. He didn’t sleep around and had actual adult relationships, something that Buck still wasn’t super accustomed to. He knew he could be that for you if that was what you wanted, but he felt like you deserved much better that what he was able to offer at the moment.

He pulled into his spot in the parking garage and the two of you headed for the elevators before Buck pressed the button with the arrow facing upwards before leaning his back against the wall.

You awkwardly stood in front of him, going back to your old self since the effects of the alcohol had worn off. You crossed your arms over your chest then stepped into the elevator as soon as it opened, Buck following you.

You pressed the buttons for both of your floors and actually found yourself hating to cut your time with him short. You glanced at him and were surprised to find that he was already looking at you. He was sporting a cute smirk and all of a sudden, you found yourself wanting to know what his lips felt like. Maybe there was a little alcohol in your system after all.

The doors opened on your floor and you shook off some of your nerves and pressed a featherlight kiss to his cheek before pulling away.

“Goodnight, Buckley.”

“Goodnight, slugger,” he replied, giving you a new nickname that you definitely preferred to “probie.”

You stepped out of the elevator and stood there until it closed, watching it go up, taking your cute coworker with it. As soon as he was alone, Buck chuckled to himself, wondering what had prompted you to kiss him, but knowing that he shouldn’t have questioned it. At that rate, he was going to take what he could get. And if he was going to get more kisses from you, he was really going to have to play his cards right.

[court-jobi]

You're It For Me

Pairing: Bakugou x reader (biker!prohero reader, afab pronouns used)

Words: 4K

Rating: T+

Warnings: Pro-hero Bakugou/Pro-hero Reader, canon-typical aftermath, love confessions, light hurt/comfort, protective Bakugou is protective, bedsharing-not spicy (yet)

Summary:

Bakugou fears very little in this life- because he knows with you by his side, even fighting the worst of the worst villains is easier when you're on the other end of the line in his headset. But never one to let things go unsaid, he makes sure to cup the side of your face and tell you the greatest promise short of 'I love you' that he can before storming out for the mission: "You're it for me. Got that?" You have to swear it back every time, so he believes it. It's both a promise and a lifeline- especially when he hears the worst possible communique: that the team's lost visual of you.

A/N: my ao3 loves have encouraged this pairing to be something of a series, so maybe that's what this will become!

For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on AO3

Beeping right into his left eardrum signals an incoming update through Bakugou’s earpiece, pinpointing the alert straight to the source over the raucous cheers of his thankful public. He’d taken on the ‘A’ grouping of villains, while you pursued ‘B’ as they made an escape from the scene. The ‘A’ punks were the ‘muscle’, but Dynamight was far stronger than any of them had anticipated. 

‘Pissy extras, you weren’t worth my time’, he’d touted when his good ole buddy Cellophane wrapped em up tight in a nice, neat bow. 

Bakugou might have celebrated this win a bit more with the crowd surrounding him, having caught the villain and was prepared to call it a day alongside Sero, ticking off another win tally in traditional, mega-blasty action… if not for the update coming through on his comms:

"We lost sight of Joyride- crash site at the industrial pylons at 6-5-2 and 6-5-7- Tightrope is-- confirmed; eliminated. Repeat, requesting visual of Joyride-"

Bakugou's soul drops to his gut. 

There was a crash and you were missing. Sero hears the same update and looks to Bakugou gravely- knowing full well who you are to him. Not just a teammate, but more, in every way.

Turning quickly from the gathering of people, Bakugou takes a one-armed leap from the side of the building and blasts off a slight cushion to his fall, then jogs towards the incoming transport with Jeanist's interns calling out for him to report back. He doesn't listen to any word of thanks as he marches to the transport. He's fueled by pure anxiety behind masked eyes, rage bubbling hot in his breath. He listens to his radio, and prays.

"--still no sight of- wait, wait! Joyride spotted! We have visual! Status? She alive? Affirmative, she's coming up over the edge- (laughs) I can't believe it, she chucked that eight-wheeler straight into it!"

Bakugou swallows, throat tight despite the relief.

"Ok Dynamight, off to rende with Joy–?-"

"YOU HEARD ‘EM, MOVE!"

Poor intern shutting right up and driving away, Bakugou shucks off his pauldrons and vambraces against his discipline that he should really keep em on until fully off duty, but with his protective instincts still in overdrive, he knows he's producing more than enough sweat should he be caught by surprise at this point in the aftermath. He's not going to need the extra firepower where he's going.

Screeching to a slowed approach, Bakugou can't wait the extra second to allow the van to come to a complete stop before he's chucking the door open and jumping past the cordoned off emergency vehicles assisting passersby. He shouts only briefly for 'making way', and people listen to the man on a mission. Calls of thanks fall to his deaf ears- by choice, this time.

From around the corner, he turns assessing the damage surrounding the crash site below. He spots Uravity already helping, and is grateful for her expertise while still set on recovering you.

There ahead -his angel in a leather jacket trudging up the off ramp with weary steps- is the sight he thanks every god in the heavens for. 

Bakugou stays his swearing out of sheer gratitude to not see copious amounts of blood draining your face; that sheen on you is just sweat as you’ve chucked your helmet off to breathe better. One look at you and it’s like no other day; you just look understandably tired and in want of a shower more than life. Your expression isn’t pained– just your usual distaste for incline treks by show of your flat, annoyed brows and mouth breathing. That look coming from a top 20 Pro Hero known for her stylish grace is funny- if only under different circumstances.

There's a crack in his voice as he shouts your callsign, but he's not ashamed of it; not with the punch of fear ripping the sound from him. He sets off in a run– straight to you.

You look up at the alarmed call. Dynamight is hurtling towards you, and you're just as relieved to see a sight for sore eyes. Seems the shock of what you just did catches up as you find renewed haste in leaving the smokey scene behind you. You pick yourself up into a jog with a delirious smile forcing its way onto your face.

In a span of a few seconds, Bakugou shoves up his protective face mask, catching your bounding self up into his arms, hugging you tight for two full, shaking breaths before pulling you into a fire-loaded, protective kiss.

Smokelines are smudged across his cheeks and burning tears lay built up at his lash line as he heaves grateful breaths in and out through his nose against your cheek. This kiss is tense, but needed. Without an ounce of regret, he keeps you painfully close. You held no less affection from him, your hands immediately grabbing for purchase on his nape, sweat-licked and all. You gasp for a breath with a laugh before he smashes his mouth across yours with tongue, messy and relieved and angry that something has scared him so bad.

Releasing your lips from his, he bumps his forehead to yours for a solemn few seconds to rein himself in.

He husks, "You good-?"

"Yeah."

"Not hurt?"

"Nah~"

"You swear."

You nod with your eyes still closed, breathing a quick answer before being given another couple hard kisses on your cheek. You're hugged tight again, swayed as he takes a couple traipsing steps with you in his arms. A heart-wrenching, gutteral sigh rasps from him, leaving you reeling as he holds you in sight of who knows how many. The fact that you're not alone in this moment is only a fleeting thought as your residual adrenaline causes you to shake- probably the reason why Bakugou is set on keeping a tight hold on you.

"I'm ok, Katsuki. M'okay-" you answer shakily, barely a whisper. You're convincing yourself under the guise of assuring him. It works, in a way.

"Thank fuck," he answers to your neck.

He’d done his part- you heard so on the coms once you found your dislodged helmet after you made a timed dismount off the bike before it careened you both off the exit ramp. It was then that you reactivated the jostled ‘live’ signal from your helmet and typed back the status code that you were alive. The mic had broken, or else you would have reported so yourself. 

But the fact remains, you haven’t told anyone reporting on the scene what you’ve seen- what you’ve done. You did stop the villain’s crew from taking what they’d stolen, but you’d effectively ended anyone else’s chances of recovering the files with the demolition site you’d essentially forced them into. The valued records didn’t fall in the wrong hands, certainly, and it’s an ultimate grace that no other civilian lives were lost, but you do think about how grim the scene looks at the bottom of the ramp. 

There’s no earthly way anyone could have survived that firefest. For some reason, the gravity of that fight grips you now. You’d almost joined them had you not thought hast enough.

"He's.. he's dead. Tightrope and them, the uh- runner. I hit 'em."

"Good. F’he wasn’t, I was gonna kill him myself."

You chuckle, despite the subject matter. Tired breaths still heave from you, coupled with the gentle relief of Bakugou’s supporting arms around you– bare arms you now notice are cannonless, as they set you fully down on your own.

"Oi, BACK IT UP!"

You realize there's a few reporting drones coming in at your back when Katsuki’s dominant hand lifts off of you to bat one away with a harmless smack on a lens; luckily Bakugou is already ushering you back to the van, keeping you ahead of him with a careful palm to your shoulder. He lets you lead towards shelter and a thorough once-over from the medic team for the shock. More grateful civilians cheer praises on both of you, especially your name since it was evidently shared by many as the saving agent of the day. 

Unlike your chilly counterpart, you did offer a wave and a reassuring, proud grin for those onlookers, but Bakugou knows your true feelings better as you grit through your teeth,

“Oh, yes please, photos. What I’d kill for a bath right now…”

After a ride back to the agency, you start to breathe normally again. On the bus where you’re  strapped up with a bp cuff monitoring your status, your care is complete with your hand in Bakugou's as he stands above you. He hovers even more after you hit the showers, dress down comfortably, and receive one of the highest compliments from your agency lead on your quick actions and limited infrastructure casualties. Finally, true ease in your tummy relaxes as you get a pass on submitting your report while in your current state until morning, and as you are given a lift back to the apartment complex-- of course, with Bakugou in tow.

It's the early morning hours when you are able to go lay down, the smallest change in the sky after the night’s darkest hour giving way to a persistent sun. It does little to threaten your desire to sleep though, with your protective boyfriend playing bodyguard keeping a hand on you at all times then offering to stay 'until you fall asleep'. 

You feel the safest you have in months that morning… 

When he follows your soft ask for him to see you safely upstairs, carries out his nighttime routine alongside yours, he does nothing more forward than wrap his entire body as close to you as possible. He kisses you goodnight with care and softness and just an edge of heat.

"You fucking scared me." Bakugou whispers into the quiet space you've created.

"I thought nothing scares you."

He huffs, but it's a sad, wet sound. "Tch, like hell it doesn't."

You're both quiet for a while after that, just relishing in your joint safety, touching each other to soothe the chills from within, soaking in his light presses to your forehead until he lays a kiss longer than the others–

"I love you so damn much," Bakugou rasps all in one go, "I love you."

 It's the first time he's said it, outright.

You'd thought you'd scream and kick your feet if he ever got around to saying what you already believed to be true. All you want instead is to absolutely melt into his skin and sob.

"HEY-" 

Bakugou called out to you at the start of all this in full, armored glory- nearly every bit of skin covered up in his winter suit while the dead of summer sun bears down. For this crazy mission, he’s been preparing all afternoon, ready to bring his all to the fight ahead. 

One word and you whip around before he yanks you into speaking range. He grounds you with a hand to your shoulder keeping you still- expecting him to say ‘be careful’, maybe even an extra ‘watch for those crackhead speed demons out there’. 

But with his commanding, brash voice on, you weren't sure what he'd say to you- not when he’s looking at you like that. 

"You-- y'better not pull anything stupid now," he stares you down with complete earnest, choosing words carefully because he figured you might be listened to on the team’s headsets.

Yet never one to let things go unsaid, he cupped the side of your neck for the next bit-

"You're it for me. Got that?"

Your azure-blazed helmet hid most of your face, so you smiled with your eyes so he could see that you agreed. You heard him loud and clear, and got his meaning entirely. 

You placed your hand in an 'i love you' sign on his chest before another call over the radio gave directions and pulled you both apart to look for the flare.

"-Got it,” you resolved while only giving him a second before you crafted a biped transitbike in record time with your quirk-  "Go kick some fuckin’ ass!" 

Heart zinging with motivation, you sped away- leaving Bakugou to cackle at your rare cursing and blowing his own way skyward and into his element.

Tipping your head up, you can barely find words with him looking at you like this. It’s the look from this morning all over again: a tight, straight-set scowl dead set on keeping himself from crying, hand sifted itself into your hair like you're going to be ripped from him in an instant, and soft eyes that are begging- a look you never thought you'd see from him.

You don't have it in you to tease him, or even be your trademark soft and demure to contrast his hard and offensive shell. No, you feel like doting on him when he's like this, because you know you’re the only one who sees him this way. This vulnerable, laid beside you with a weighted blanket on him to soothe his anxiety, too.  

So you promise your whole existence to him instead: a genuine word without fear of an audience.

"I love you, too. You’re it for me."

You sink in and out of sleep while he holds you like this. Though gratefully, he's out like a light after the last few kisses he laid on your head when you said it back-- like his spirit could finally rest knowing you believed the same.

You keep waking up in the night unsettled by some restless instincts left over from the night before. 

After twisting again and turning your neck to bleakly look at the light coming in, you heard his drowsy inhale bring out a grumbly moan,

"Go t'sleep."

'It's bright,' you say through your exhaustion, but it's evident that you're far too awake by your tone.

At this, you heave in surprise as Bakugou completely flips you onto the other side of him, tilting you with a palm until you turn the other way (towards the bathroom) and lie completely in his shadow. You check his face to see if he's upset at your waking him, but his eyes remain shut by sleep and are solely focused on blindly making sure you're completely locked in and comfortable in his arms, still.

It's thoughtful and strikes you sweetly, tucked back in his embrace again. You feel completely secure with his warmth flooding you at your back.

"Thanks."

Again, he simply whispers,

"mmm sleep f'me, 'ngel... I've gotcha."

A phone buzzes just minutes later, his. It's Kirishima- and like moth and flame they are for each other, Bakugou answers, tipping only onto his back so he’s barely moving from you. You still sleep through lightly and you hear him talking, but not each and every word fully.

Bakugou swiped up to answer the call, but didn’t deign a chipper welcome necessary.

"......hey uhhh Bakugou?"

"hmwhat."

"Are you still sleeping?"

"Yes."

"It's after 2pm, man! Thought you were dead to the world~"

"I am. Whaddya need."

"Well, just wanted to check on you man. I saw the fight last night, and I've tried calling Little Miss, too but she's not answerin’."

"Had the same night. She's 'sleep too."

"Eh, I shoulda figured. Looked like it took it out of you."

"Tch, wasn’t that hard."

Kirishima played into his mischievous lilt on his end of the line, 

"mmmm sure bout that? That uh, kiss, didn't look like ‘nothing’."

...Kirishima wasn't there. How would he have known you kissed?...

Bakugou wakes a little more. "Huh."

Kirishima burrs the speaker a little on the other line. Must be from him laughing through his nose knowing Bakugou's severe dislike for that sort of attention.

"I mean, I get it. I'd probably be the same after watching my girl go down like that, but-- hate to break it to ya, but it's everywhere, Kats."

"-Whaddya mean."

Notifications have flooded his phone when he cracks open an eye to really look at it, but he opens the most recent from Kirishima, texted by the redhead’s insistence for Bakugou to take a look.

There are stills of said clip of him running up to you and kissing you– one particular shot looks gorgeously cinematic because someone with a photo-optic quirk had clearly followed him, probably from that drone he almost broke. Screenshots Kirishima has collected (proof of ‘true manliness’, he claims) all bear headlines of how this was the most unexpected hero pairing of the season: how "Joynamight" is stealing the hearts of swooning civilians everywhere- and likely the shutdown of the entire hero rumor mill surrounding the explosive hero standing at No. 5. The dating scene has allegedly erupted into chaos over the news.

Bakugou stared at the photo of him holding you. One camera turned more at his shoulders by the way he'd stepped, so in this photo, he could see you more clearly- holding on as just about any loved one would hug their better half, but so beautifully content and safe in your face- if a little emotional yourself.

A blank hum is all Bakugou offered. Soft. Seemingly disinterested if it wasn't for the proud smirk.

Kirishima snickered on the other end of the line. "You sucker."

"Yeah, yeah."

"...dytell er yet?"

"Not there... But.. couldn't not, yknow."

"aaand?"

"... Dont scream about it, mtired."

Kiri audibly gasped, then at least honored Bakugou's request for distance from the phone, whooping and hollering off speakerphone, uplifted at the news. His carrying on made even a sleep-laden Bakugou happy, even if he lay there rolling his eyes for his friend to be done.

You finally stirred beside him, turning over with a stretch and seeking him out. He quickly received you, kissing your forehead again, then tipping back to the phone. "I'll call you back later, Eij."

"--Huh? Dude I WANNA KNOW WHAT YOU SAID, WHAT HA-"

"Mmm who's that," you moaned.

Bakugou rubbed your back to rouse you the rest of the way. "Your big red dog."

You chortled at Kirishima's new moniker. "Whas’hewant."

Bakugou debated letting you stay in your bubble, but figured ripping the bandaid might be best. 

"Just called to give us a head's up."

You looked up to him, "About what?"

Bakugou only smirked, tilting his phone to you. To focus on the light, you woke up fully, eyes widening to just how bad they did -indeed- immortalize your private moment on the scene.Those grimey, windswept headshots you’d feared at the medtend were the least of your photogenic worries now.

But-- like his own reaction-- you couldn't keep from smiling.

"Ohhhh~" you sighed, then deeper, "Ohhhhh we are in deep shit."

Bakugou snuggled in– smug as all getout, "Yeah, we are."

"Wait, lemme see-- oh my God, Kats... Oh Katsuki, this-.."

"Yeah yeah, give it back-"

"Nooo I need that one! Send it to me!"

"It's likely blown yours up too, dummy! Get your own!"

Memory of your reentry home failed you, so you had to ask him where your phone ended up because you didn't have a clue. He’d put it on the charger for you, of course. Then, sitting side by side, you both were reviewing the more urgent notes from your respective social media managers with deep, secretive chuckles. 

These photos were a romantic’s dream, but a PR jumpscare. Had to be addressed in some way or it would never end, truly.

"What’d yours say?"

You fixed your wonky part with a little fluff to your hair, settling your initial overwhelm of nerves: " ‘Go on something lowkey- Present Mic’s show or a podcast off the mainstream, say ‘friendship is magic’, maybe tease it if I want to, and move on.’ I dunno- that seems like a lot of public speaking and scheduling out the wazoo. You?"

"She's just yapping. Didn't read it all." Bakugou barely cared about his social media presence since his manager did most of the publishing, save for Bakugou sharing some highlights of his select, predictable group of hero team ups. Besides that, he just focused on paying them well enough to cover his bullshit if he ever let his temper flare. Besides, now he was waiting on what you'd say, "So what're you gonna do?"

You debated, smirking like a devil the whole time as you realized what could be the fastest way to get your take out in the open, 

"... I wanna share the photographer's post. Not this J’akku Press spread."

This earned a smirk for you, "Yeah?"

"...yeah?" you returned a shy look- wondering if you were crazy.

"I will, if you will."

Bakugou’s soft, sleepy loyalty is one you fear will disappear after you both get started with your day. When Dynamight reports back in, you can only hope that he’d still feel the same way today as he did yesterday- though you imagine managing the tabloid fodder a post like this can make will be less than pleasant for him. He’s so private most of the time, and when he’s not digitally absent, he’s loud. This hesitation must have shown on your face– because he takes your hand for a second and kisses it to stop your spiral.

"I meant what I said. You’re it- you’re mine. Whether we tell the world or not. Up to you."

You bite your lip again, and doubled down. You shift to snuggle with your back cradled on his chest, building the shared post:

"Aftermath: Joyride emerges from crash scene unscathed, reunited with Dynamight in a rare tender moment for today's top tier heroes." Joyride_fm: see edit: Lucky, lucky girl. Sorry for scaring you, m'love❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 #rideordie

Bakugou snickers, kissing your shoulder closest to him. "Do it, I'll repost that one."

He, however, did not let you read as he added his response thread, making you wonder what kind of a novel he was going to be sharing because of how long he was taking... 

Instead, you just curled into his side and peppered him in a few distracting kisses on his chest. He’d come bolting to you last night, a core memory you’d be fantasizing about for a long time. Just watching the way his chest is rising and falling here in bed so calmly when you know just hours ago it was heaving like you’d been lost at sea, you are so gone on him. When he nudged his shoulder for you to check his draft, you damn near cried:

"Aftermath: Joyride emerges from crash scene unscathed, reunited with Dynamight in a rare tender moment for today's top tier heroes." THE_Dynamight_SoV: Hero work is not for the weak. We train, we fight, and we do everything we can to make our world a safer one, to whatever end. This woman is one of many selfless, ball-busting, indomitable heroes that I'm not only proud to do this work with, but one I can't see myself living without. You're looking at the face of a man who's holding his priorities right there in 4k. So yeah. If you see one of us like this after a battle, know it's because heroes get scared too– for good fucking reason. Better not make this a habit, dummy. ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 #rideandDONTdie

"Oh my God~~" your tears and misty sniffles had you caving into his shoulder, "my tweet was so STUPID!!"

Katsuki bragged with proud cackles as you cried it out, sending the post out for the Internet to bawl over before you could dare edit your post, and turned his phone right back to silent.

You got snotty and overly emotional at how sweet he was with his statement, but were comforted by his hands smoothing over you until you calmed.

"Love you,” you settled into the peace he held you in.

"Love you, dummy."

When you got up for the afternoon run back to the office to finish your reports with fresh eyes, you entered the building as normal. There’s no hint in how either of you carry yourselves that say you all just spend the last twelve hours like koalas draped over each other. The only sign of such affections was your use of an Allmight tervis you're nursing your coffee with –clearly his– which your good ole partner in electric crime, Chargebolt, clocked from the end of the hallway:

"JOYNAMIGHT 2024!!!!"

"SHUDDUP, POWER OUTTAGE!!!"

[ihavethedreamies]

Seventeen Sci-Fi! AU Series Hub

ON INDEFINITE HIATUS

Please Read my Letter

Unlike some of my other series I hadn't had this whole series outlined ahead of time and so I just do these when they come to mind. None of them are tied together and I cannot guarantee when I will post new parts.

I did have a part out for Minghao/The8, but I wasn't vibing with it so I took it down :\

Let me know if you want to be on the taglist to know when new parts come out!

Oasis - S.Coups [NSFW]

Summary: In which you get into some trouble and then saved by an extremely attractive man. (PS. It's S.Coups) ~4.6k

Jeonghan - TBD [WIP]

Plan: Reader gets stuck inside a tavern-like place while there is a rare torrential rainfall with lightning. Not too many people are in there, but Jeonghan is.

Joshua - TBD [WIP]

Plan: Reader gets in an accident and ends up in a clinic where he's helping the healers take care of people.

Jun - TBD [WIP]

Plan: Reader finds him fighting off a bunch of guys by himself in an alleyway.  He wins but is pretty banged up so she patches him up.

(also for banner pictures I try to avoid when they have a headset mic, but he looks too good in these)

Deserted - Hoshi [NSFW]

Summary: In which your rover dies and you find shelter with an extremely attractive man. (PS. It's Hoshi) ~5.1k

Heat - Wonwoo [NSFW]

Summary: In which you help and extremely attractive man find a thief, then go back to his hotel room… (PS. It's Wonwoo) ~8.7k

Desert Storms - Woozi [NSFW]

Summary: In which you get stuck in a sandstorm and you find shelter with an extremely attractive man. (PS. It's Woozi) ~4k

Dokyeom - TBD [WIP]

Plan: He's going after a criminal but isn't doing so hot so the reader helps.

Mingyu - TBD [WIP]

Plan: Reader gets his help with her rover and he fixes it, as well as what she messed up trying to fix it.

The8 - TBD [WIP]

Plan: Not for sure, I had something written and I didn't like it so I need something new :\ Probably some kind of native soldier or something.

Seungkwan - TBD [WIP]

Plan: While the reader is at the capital, she runs into him since he's a diplomat. They already know each other.

Vernon - TBD [WIP]

Plan: Reader is waiting to meet a contact and she sees him with a crowd of horny girls around him. She can tell he's getting overwhelmed so she goes to help.

Dino - TBD [WIP]

Plan: Reader sees a wanted poster as well as the person on it. He's the bounty hunter listed to contact, so they work together.

Master-Master List

Seventeen Master List

Taglist: @gaslysainz

[eightyonekilograms]

I went to the Apple Store yesterday to try the scripted demo of their VR headset. My overall impression is that it's the best possible execution of what might be a fundamentally flawed idea.

The passthrough video is pretty incredible. It's somewhat dimmer than reality, and the color accuracy is just OK, but it's more than good enough to feel like you're looking through clear displays at the real world. I'm told the passthrough on the Quest 3 is even better, but haven't tried that and can't comment. One thing is that there is a weird motion blur effect when you turn your head, I'm not sure if that's a display tech limitation or introduced deliberately by the software as a workaround for a different display tech limitation.

The resolution is 4K per eye, which, as mentioned, is more than enough for a powerful sense of presence in the real world. One of the nifty bits of the demo was when you turn the dial to tune out the world and suddenly you're sitting by a mountain lake, and the feeling of actually being there is overwhelming. The dystopian implications of needing a VR headset to sit at a mountain lake aside, it would be cool to have one just to have your office be anywhere you can imagine. Not $3500-before-tax cool, but cool.

Wow sports leagues are going to love this thing. I don't give a shit about sports and even I was thinking, "If the NBA put a stereoscopic camera courtside and sold you games for $50 a pop, I'd absolutely buy that"

But 4K per eye is not enough to do work, not even close. The experience of using normal computer-y applications on this was not unlike plugging your laptop in to a TV that's at the normal TV distance. You can do it, it works, but it's not anyone's preferred way of working. Text is amazingly legible, but only at sizes that are equivalent to having a single webpage take up your entire 4K monitor at normal monitor distance.

It is not particularly comfortable. Part of this might be that the store demo makes you use the "catcher's mitt" strap, which only goes around the back of your head and so gravity has to be countered only by the pressure of the thing against your face. Reviewers have said that if you use the other band that goes over your head the situation is better, but still.

A lot of early comments were making fun of Apple for having the battery be an external thing you put in your pocket and attach with a wire, but I think that's just fine: we all walk around with giant batteries in our pockets anyway, and anything you can do to have less weight on your head is a Good Thing. But then Apple took all those weight savings and spent them on making the stupid thing out of metal and glass instead of polycarbonate. It's nuts! It's like if you made a car that was 500kg lighter because you invented magical tech for keeping the engine somewhere else, and then went "great! with all the weight savings now we can build the body out of lead". Apple, you don't need to fear plastic. Plastic is good! Plastic built modern civilization.

You control it with a combination of eye tracking and pinch gestures. This is the main piece of evidence of my "best version of a bad idea" thesis: it works really, really well; so well that I can tell this is probably an evolutionary dead end. It's just fine— miraculous, even— for dragging windows around and doing the basic stuff the in-store demo has you do. It's amazing that you can more or less have your hands anywhere, including on your lap, and the recognition works perfectly (by contrast with the HoloLens I tried 5 or so years ago where the gesture recognition was total crap). But it's immediately obvious that you can never do serious manipulation of your computing environment with this.

The takeaway is that it's incredible for passive consumption of specifically-made media, assuming that ever exists at scale. But it will be a long time before we're gogged in like Hiro Protagonist to do our office jobs this way.

[itsseohannbin]

〉Get On My Level, Bitch〈

Jisung Drabble

A lil something for my gamer girlies

© itshannjisung, 2024

♡ itsseohannbins masterlist ♡

Genre: Fluff. Crack.

Established Relationship.

Summary: After losing one too many rounds of Hyungs vs Maknaes in Call Of Duty, Jisung enlists help from his gamer girlfriend, who teaches him how to win and impresses his friends as she does so.

Pairing: Idol! Han Jisung x Female Reader

Warnings: Fluff. Crack. Swearing. Soft boi Han Jisung. Gamer Skz. Nerdy Skz. Lots of gaming terms are used. Gun and knife use (in-game). mentions of the boys being shot (obvi in game). Reader is older than Jisung, Hyunjin, and Changbin. suggestive towards the end.

** Members' clan tags/gamer tags are also used.

Word Count: 4k lol fuck

Inspired by a dream I had of exactly this, so this was completely self-indulgent LOL

Enjoy!

Waking up to an empty bed on a shared day off was extremely unusual for you. Typically, when you and your boyfriend had the same days off, you'd both lounge in bed together well into the afternoon, just relaxing and enjoying each other's company. You'd usually be starfished out across the mattress reading Webtoons on your phone, while Jisung would be cuddled up between your legs, his back against your mid-section while he watched an anime on his laptop.

So, when you woke up to nothing but emptiness beside you one random Thursday morning, you were more than a little concerned. That was until you heard the faint sound of Jisung cursing aggressively coming from two rooms over.

A smile spread across your face almost immediately as you pulled yourself out of bed and wrapped one of Jisung's oversized hoodies around you. It had been a long time since he had stepped foot inside the game room.

With one comeback finishing and another one right around the corner, you haven't seen any of the guys online at all lately. They must've finally all gotten a couple days off together because Jisung never went online unless all of them did.

You were anxious to see what game they were playing, and admittedly, excited for the possibility of a gaming day with your boyfriend. Sure, lounging in bed all day with take-out and anime was the perfect way to spend time together, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't miss the days' pre-5-star comeback where the two of you would be in front of your computers for hours on end.

You grabbed your phone and slipped on a pair of comfy slippers before tiptoeing out of the room, giggling quietly to yourself as you listened to Jisung's annoyed words sounding all the way from down the hall.

"Yah! Quit camping and come face me like a man, Hyung!" Something akin to a laugh and a groan of frustration left Jisung's mouth shortly before a loud "Fuck!" echoed off the walls.

"Lino-hyung, you're so fucking dead!"

Once you reached the door to the game room where you and Jisung had computers set up side by side, you leaned against the door frame and watched him silently in admiration. Jisung sat in his big black leather chair, the RGB lights in the computer tower the only source of light in the room as they flashed different shades of red against the stark white walls.

His back was to you, his big chunky headphones covering both of his ears and his microphone stand that he got from Felix that previous holiday season was sitting way too close to his mouth. You had to suppress a laugh when his lips grazed the metal mesh of the mic so hard you could hear Changbin yelling through the headset for Jisung to stop eating it.

He was a rapper through and through on and off stage. You made a mental note to pick him up a foam microphone cover to help keep his teeth from grazing the material, and more importantly, help prevent Changbin from killing Jisung altogether.

"Top right, top right, top right," he then spoke quickly, his shoulders tensing up for a moment before relaxing again. "Nice one Seung. Good coms." he then praised.

You watched him for a couple more minutes before stepping into the room and coming up behind him. You were careful not to startle him while he was so clearly focused on his game, your hands lightly resting on his shoulders so he knew you were there.

"They're rushing B, they're rushing B, they're rushing B! Oh, hi Baby!" Jisung turned his head for a moment to beam up at you adorably with those large, brown eyes and full cheeks. He grinned and kissed the back of your hand quickly before he went back to focusing on the screen in front of him.

"Fuck, I died. Sorry. Innie behind you!"

Your eyes immediately became glued to the computer screen as he called for Jeongin again, another smile making its way to your face. They were playing Call of Duty, your current favorite game to play, and you had a sudden urge to sit down next to him at your own computer and join.

During the weeks leading up to the release of 5-Star, you spent a lot of your free time online playing the game with your own friends while Jisung and the boys prepared for their comeback. Jisung knew you loved to game, he loved that you did, but he didn't know just how good you had gotten at it in the hours you spent home alone while he was away.

You genuinely did love the game, as the franchise itself was one you played throughout your years growing up, but you mostly wanted to show off to Jisung and the rest of the guys. They would always tease you for playing 'girly' games, like Stardew Valley or Animal Crossing, and even occasionally, The Sims 4, so you were determined to improve your FPS skills and impress them.

"Fuck, how did you even see me there Binnie-hyung?" Jisung whined as you watched his screen go grey. He pressed a button on his RGB keyboard and quickly brought up the scoreboard to see how he was doing, and you saw that they were playing a 4v4 match. Hyungs vs Maknaes.

This wasn't going to end well.

When it was the older four versus the younger four, it never did.

"Aha, get on my level, bitch." Changbin taunted in response.

You felt Jisung's shoulders tense under your touch when the game ended a second later, his death being the final kill. He hit the top of the desk with his fist lightly in annoyance at his comical and unfortunate death before a laugh left his throat.

"Don't look at that guys!" he begged as the 'Final Kill' camera replayed across the screen. His hands went up to cover his face in embarrassment. "Please! I'm so embarrassed!"

You couldn't tell if the sound that left his throat a second later was a cry or a laugh, but you assumed the latter as you watched the Kill Cam show his character flying back into the match on a parachute. Changbin had seen him clear as day and sniped him right out of the sky, leaving Jisung's character to fall dramatically to the ground.

You could hear the hoots of laughter coming through the headset from the rest of the guys, his teammates included, and it made a laugh of your own escape your mouth before you could stop it. Jisung turned to look at you with squinted eyes, a playful grin on his face as he gaped at you in mock betrayal.

"Baby!" he cried as he watched your shoulders shake with the force of your laughter. "You're supposed to be on my side!" he feigned offense.

"I'm sorry Sungie," you giggled as you squeezed his shoulders reassuringly and planted a soft kiss onto his messy bedhead. Jisung sent you a playful pout before he turned back around. "You're just too cute for words."

Jisung scoffed and returned your affection, planting another kiss on your hand as the final scoreboard flashed onto the screen. Interested to see how everyone played, you leaned in to take a look at everyone's scores.

Hyungs (4/4) Score: 100

[3Racha] DaddyDwaekki99; Kills:37 Deaths:9

[3Racha] xCB97x; Kills:30 Deaths:15

[SKZOO] Butt-Hunter0325; Kills:25 Deaths:18

[SKZOO] Jin&Tonic00; Kills:8 Deaths:24

Maknaes (4/4) Score: 66

[SKZOO] BrownieBoiT_T; Kills:29 Deaths:12

[SKZOO] Nimgnues148; Kills:20 Deaths:27

[SKZOO] XxMAKNA3.0N.T0PxX; Kills:13 Deaths:27

[3Racha] QuokkaPrince; Kills:4 Deaths:34

"Are you serious? How the hell did I do worse than Hyune?" Jisung grumbled as he looked at the scores, his face falling to one of disappointment. You could hear Bangchan cackling light-heartedly through the headset.

You let your hands then slide down Jisung's broad chest and hugged him tightly against you in an attempt to cheer him up. You kissed the top of his head again before resting your chin on it.

"Hey, I think you did good." you voiced. Jisung's hand came up to rub your arm in appreciation, though he was still frowning to himself.

"You're supposed to say that," he mumbled. "You're my girlfriend."

You just smiled down at him and leaned over to plant a kiss on his cheek. Jisung then lightly tapped his microphone to mute it before he reached up to cup your face, bringing your lips back to his for a gentle kiss. You smiled against his mouth before pulling away.

He tasted like coffee.

"Good morning, Jagi. Did you sleep well?" he asked now that he finally had a moment to talk with the game being over. You nodded and pressed a firm kiss to his exposed forehead, causing him to smile up at you.

"I slept perfectly," you answered with an adoring smile as you brushed some hair out of his face. Jisung craned his head back and puckered his lips once more, silently asking for another kiss, which you happily obliged.

His lips were slightly chapped and dry, probably from all the talking he'd been doing and lack of hydration, but they still felt warm against yours. You felt a shiver run down your spine when his tongue found yours a moment later, your body tingling with pleasure the way it always did when kissing him, even after all these years together.

"Did you eat?" you asked after his lips pulled away from you. The guys were busy upgrading their guns and changing their specs, so you had a little bit of alone time with Jisung before he was called back for another round.

"Mhmm., Jisung hummed as he swiveled his chair around and pulled you into his lap. He planted a kiss on your cheek and wrapped his arms lovingly around your waist before nuzzling his face into your neck. He loved physical touch with you, and he'd eat it up every chance he got. "I sure did. Just had some eggs and toast. There's coffee left if you want any."

"Thanks, Baby." you grinned down at him as you wrapped one arm around his neck and pulled him impossibly closer to you. His lips found purchase on the skin of your throat where he began peppering small pecks of love all over. "I'm really happy to see you back in here finally. You guys have all been working really hard lately and you all deserve time off to relax and have fun."

"There's a double XP event happening this week so we're trying to all get upgraded before we have to go back to work," he explained. You hummed in response, content with the affection he was currently giving you in between words. Jisung then pulled away, giving you an anxious look.

"Is it okay if I spend a couple of hours gaming with them? We can go watch some shows if you want to instead, I don-" You cut him off abruptly with a shake of your head and a hand over his mouth. Jisung peered up at you with wide eyes, waiting nervously for your response.

"Sungie, baby, if you want to spend the day gaming with the guys, I'm all for it. I promise," you assured him with a quick kiss to his nose. "I was actually thinking of joining you, honestly. It's been a long time since we had a gaming day."

You moved your hands to tangle in the wisps of hair that sat at the nape of his neck, toying aimlessly with the freshly-dyed strands of dark brown.

"Yeah?" he asked with a smirk. "You gonna' play some Stardew or something?"

You grinned down at him shyly.

"Actually, I was going to ask if I could try a round of Call of Duty with you guys. Would you teach me?"

Jisung's eyebrows disappeared behind his hair as he looked at you in shock. His mouth fell open slightly as if he couldn't believe his ears before it broke out into the most adorable smile you've ever seen.

"You want me to teach you how to play?" he asked, excitement already causing him to vibrate in his seat. He'd been waiting for the day for you to ask him to teach you how to play all his favorite games, even though there weren't a lot of them. He was absolutely ecstatic at your inquiry, he could barely mask it as he jumped happily.

"Of course, I will teach you, Baby!" he squealed when you nodded. "I'm not very good myself, but we can do a one-on-one match so you can get used to the controls without being overwhelmed."

The excitement and happiness on his soft features almost made you blow your cover. He was so cute when he got excited over little things like this. It made you fall impossibly more in love with him.

You shook your head quickly before he could even finish his sentence, causing confusion to glaze over in his stare.

"I want to play with the guys. Right now. I want the next round," you claimed as you shifted on his lap, turning around to take the mouse in your hand. Your other hand landed on the keyboard and your fingers twitched with anticipation. They fell perfectly into place and you hoped to god Jisung didn't notice.

Jisung was taken by surprise at your eagerness, but he just laughed and wrapped his arm around you and went to unmute the mic before you grabbed ahold of his wrist and stopped him.

"Don't tell the guys I'm playing. I want to surprise them," you insisted. Jisung raised an eyebrow at you.

"Surprise them how?" he asked slowly, his eyes suspicious yet amused. You beamed back and kissed him on the nose once more.

"I'm going to win this round for you. That'll stop them from teasing you so much." You could hear the guys shit-talking each other through the headset Jisung had looped around his neck when you initially sat down. It was all in good fun, obviously, but they were making a lot of digs at Jisung, which only made you more determined to bring home a win for Ji and the Maknaes.

Jisung gave you a skeptical look, biting his lower lip in uncertainty when he realized how serious you were.

"Have you played this game before?" he questioned. You shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly.

"Once or twice while you were at work." you fibbed, hoping he didn't catch onto your lie the way he always did with you.

"Alright, but if you fuck up my K-D ratio, I'm gon' be really upset." he teased. He sat himself up straighter so he could lean his chin on your shoulder and watch. You rolled your eyes at him and let out a snarky remark, to which he laughed.

"Can't fuck it up more than it already is."

"Har har, very funny."

Jisung hooked his headset back onto one ear, allowing you to listen in on the conversation as well. You took the time to make yourself your own custom gun class, one that you were used to and had been using for months prior, but you tried to act clueless as you put it together.

So far, so good.

Jisung, and the rest of the guys for that matter, had no clue what was coming for them.

"Alright, so move your character using the WASD keys." Jisung lightly pushed the hand on the keyboard out of his way and demonstrated for you. "Space is jump and 'R' is reload. Use the middle button on the mouse-" he quickly moved his other hand to hover over yours, demonstrating again. "to use your lethal equipment, and the '1' key to switch to your tactical equipment."

You nodded along, playing dumb as you repeated his actions.

"The left mouse button is how you fire your weapon, while the right mouse button is used to aim down sight. 'E' is used to interact with shit around the world, and 'M' will bring up your map." he continued on without hesitation, waiting for you to nod in understanding before moving on to the next. "You can crouch and slide by pressing the 'C' key, or you can lay down by holding it. Cool?"

You nodded again, biting your lower lip to stop a laugh from escaping your throat as his vague instructions. Jisung misunderstood your action and began rubbing his hands up and down your arms reassuringly.

"It's okay, Baby. Don't be nervous. You got this. I'll be your eyes and ears, okay?"

After going over the rest of the controls, all of which you already knew and more, Jisung unmuted his mic and hopped back into the conversation the guys were having about the upcoming album due to come out in the next couple of months.

His hands were now resting on your hips reassuringly while he talked with the guys, acting as if he was playing, and you felt yourself getting jittery from the anticipation that tore through you when the countdown finally began.

When the clock hit zero and all players were free to move, you quickly worked your way around the familiar map and went directly to your favorite vantage point, perfect for sniping off of. Jisung snorted to himself when he saw your character pull out the sniper rifle you customized.

"Good luck, Sweetheart. Binnie-hyung is a sniper king," he mumbled quietly enough for only you to hear. You shook your head.

"Not for long," you whispered back.

Felix's voice came barreling through the headset suddenly, causing you to jump as adrenaline pumped through your veins. You loved the rush that came with these FPS games.

"Roof of the red building!" he yelled excitedly. Jisung's finger came up to point out where Binnie's character was sneakily army-crawling across a rooftop in the distance, just like Felix had said. You pulled out your sniper, aimed down your sight, and lined up the shot. In a second, POW! Binnie had died in one swift shot to the head.

"What the fuck?" Changbin laughed in disbelief into his mic, confusion clear in his tone. "Are you using a sniper rifle, Ji?"

You held back a cackle at his words, allowing Jisung to answer with a small laugh of his own, the disbelief in his own voice barely unnoticed. "Yeah, I figured I'd change it up a bit." he offered to his older member. He sounded so casual, but his eyebrows were once again raised in surprise as your lucky shot.

Looking through the scope of your gun, you watched as Changbin's character climbed back onto the same roof moments later and aimed his own rifle in your direction, a flash of light in the distance. You were quick to get up from your crouched position and move away from his field of view, your fingers dancing across the keyboard as you changed position and sniped him again from a different angle.

POW!

Dead again.

Binnie let out a string of curse words as his body rolled dramatically off the roof to the ground below.

"Yah! What the fuck?" he laughed again.

You knew your cover was now blown, so you jumped from the rooftop you were lying across and parachuted down to the ground, running for cover when you heard gunshots going off all around you.

"Ji, behind you!" Jeongin shouted. You twirled your character around and pulled out your secondary weapon, a simple pistol, seeing Lino's character running towards you at full speed with nothing but a knife in his hand.

Typical Lino.

You smirked at his antics and shot him point blank before he could reach you, causing Lino to squeal dramatically like a girl into the mic, which in turn, made you and Jisung both wince at the unusually high pitch of it.

"Nooooo! Dammit!" he laughed.

Jisung gave you a soft high-five at your kill and watched in awe as the game continued.

For fifteen minutes, you sat rock solid in Jisung's lap, your eyes hyper-focused on the screen as you ran across the map, killing off the Hyungs and racking up your team's points. The boys were all shocked at Jisungs 'sudden skill', suspicious of him cheating or hacking the system, but he had lost the ability to defend himself as he was too shocked to even say anything in response.

He muted his mic and was cheering you on, congratulating you on every kill and assist you got. He had chalked it all up to beginner luck, but when you got the game-winning kill, sniping Chan from across the map where he hid almost too perfectly between two barrels, barely in your sights, he knew.

He knew this wasn't your first, second, or even third time playing. Based on the snicker on your face when the scoreboard popped up, deeming you first place on the winning team, he knew you'd been practicing while he was away at work. And while he was envious of your skill and abilities, he was more proud than anything else.

"Okay, Ji, seriously? What the fuck?" How did you get from the bottom of the scoreboard to the top in the span of five rounds?" Felix was in awe. You smiled over at Jisung upon hearing the younger males' question., and before Jisung could answer with some cocky response you knew he'd have, you tapped the mic to unmute it and spoke into it playfully.

"Hi guys," you giggled.

As much as you wanted Jisung to take credit, you couldn't. You worked so hard to impress these guys and you didn't want to pass up the opportunity to prove them wrong with their teasing.

"Holy shit, Y/n?" Hyunjin chuckled in disbelief. "Was that you playing the entire round?"

"The one and only," you confirmed with a smirk.

"Fuck, I want you on my team next time. You snipe better than I do." Changbin spoke next. You shook your head and tsked at him.

"Sorry Binnie, no can do."

"Why not?" Hyunjin then added. "You're technically mine and Changbin-hyungs Noona, so you're playing on the wrong team!" You could practically hear his frown through the speaker of Jisung's headphones.

"Sorry guys. I play for Jisung and Jisung only."

Seungmin scoffed playfully at your words.

"You're a fucking simp." he joked. You laughed alongside everyone else before hitting them with the final blow.

"Looks like you guys are just going to have to, what is it that Binnie said last round? Get on my level, bitch." you mocked.

The guys all burst out into laughter at your impression, Binnie included.

While the guys went on to boast about your incredible win, Jisung muted the microphone once more and nuzzled his face back into your neck lovingly.

"You're a little shit," he teased, his nose tracing the shape of your ear. A shiver ran up your spine as his hot breath fanned across your throat.

"What did I do?" you asked innocently as you tilted your head to the side, allowing him to trace his nose along your neck before plating a teasing kiss below your jaw. He squeezed your hips and nibbled your skin gently as he laughed at your innocent tone.

"You've been playing this a lot, haven't you?" he questioned before biting your neck again and sucking the skin into his mouth. You sensed he was punishing you for playing him so well, but you didn't mind. You loved the feeling of his mouth on your skin.

"Every day while you're at work." you breathed out. "Gotta' learn how to put the boys in their place for teasing you so much. Gotta protect my baby." you then cooed.

Jisung's hands trailed up your sides again, sliding underneath the fabric of his sweater. His touch on your skin felt electric as his mouth teased your earlobe, his hands traveling further up your torso.

The bulge in his pants that he was rutting against you was growing harder with each passing second. Leave it to Jisung to get turned on by something as simple as you knowing how to game.

"Fuck," he whispered in an adoring tone. "I really hit the fucking jackpot with you, Jagi."

Hannjis Pookie Wookie Bears 🐻: @moonlightndaydreams @noellllslut @bethanysnow @channieandhisgoonsquad @queenmea604 @newhope8

[deepdreamnights]

Repeat that...

What's heading toward us how fast?

The image(s) above in this post were made using an autogenerated prompt and/or have not been modified/iterated extensively. As such, they do not meet the minimum expression threshold, and are in the public domain. Prompt under the fold.

Prompt: a portrait of Super Mario as a member of Gorillaz, full color illustration by Jamie Hewlett, flat shading, character design, concept art, 4k, promotional image:: Dino-Knight Allosaurus, in the Dino-Base command center, humanoid dinosaur in power armor, still frame from the Dino-Guard, 1992 animated cartoon series, by TOEI, AKOM, Sunbow:: pen-and-ink illustration of a [dinosaur, humanoid lambeosaurus, anthropomorphic hadrosaur, dinosaur fursona, parasaurolophus, duckbill dinosaur] as a 1950s telephone operator. microphone headset, smiling, looking at camera. Promotional artwork. Illustration by Jack Kirby, Alex Toth, Charles R. Knight:: a brachiosaurus-anthro, humanoid brachiosaurus, photograph, wearing lederhosen and playing the accordian, dinosaur wearing clothes, 15 feet tall, at octoberfest:: A scene from the film 'The Thing' directed by Howard, in which there is an underground base with alien cookies and muffins inside a glass dome. The background shows some strange lights, a dark atmosphere and some monsters on top of it. Shot on Super Panavision-70 camera in the style of Stanley Kubrick.:: ,an illustration of an urban environment with blue, red, and orange color hues, in the style of andreas rocha, spiky mounds, burned/charred, enchanting realms, sergey musin, monochrome landscapes, detailed crowd scenes

--

This is a 'prompt smash' experiment, combining random (mostly) machine-generated prompts into a single prompt with multiple sub-prompts. Midjourney blends concepts in these situations, making vivid but essentially random results.

[stratossphere]

cigarettes | v.v

you and ville are freshly broken up, but you still have to work together, and you’re hurting.

warnings: gender neutral!reader, angst, broken-up pining, suggestive content, getting interrupted, smoking

word count: 4k

a/n: some breakup angst for you while i work on my drafts!!!

tags: @asskickedbygirl @lieutenant-cinnamon-roll @kissofdawn666 @brandons-wife @valos-venus-doom @ghoulishguns @h3artk1ller @4377666 @althaiascure

— —

Work was really starting to wear you down to the bone. Sure, you'd been the one to agree to this stupid goddamn project in the first place, but that had been before you and Ville had separated, and now the very fresh strain of you not being together paired with the fact that Bam Margera was more than a headache to work with wasn't something you'd fully prepared yourself to deal with.

You and Ville had broken up not even a week ago. The fighting had become too harsh and the constant time away from each other had grown too much, and after an explosive fight and a lot of angry packing, you were both trying to continue to do your jobs while fresh out of the joint worst breakup of your lives.

So yeah. You loved your job, and you totally weren’t miserable directing HIM’s ‘Buried Alive by Love’ music video at all.

Not to mention the millions of hiccups you'd experienced so far in the short amount of time that you'd been filming. It was making you really glad that the project funding was coming from HIM's producers and Bam's own pockets instead of yours.

"Let's just take a fucking break. 30 minutes. I can't fucking deal with this." Bam had said after you'd experienced the last fuck-up in your plan, throwing down his binder and ripping his headset off of his head from where he had been standing next to you behind the camera. You threw a hand in the air, because you knew that you were never going to get the fucking video done if he kept quitting every time he got annoyed, but held your tongue because as long as it was on his dollar, it was kind of his right.

"Go pick up lunch, then." You called after him. If he was going to put everything to a halt just because he had a touchy temper, then he was going to have to pay for it. He turned around slowly on his heel, a venomous look on his face.

"Fine. Good thing I have your wallet, huh?" And then he stomped off down the hall to the left. With your wallet, which you had entrusted him with because you happened to not have any pockets at the moment, and which happened to have both your debit and credit card inside. Great. He was getting paid the Benjamin to your Washington, and yet he couldn't be bothered to have any courtesy.

You could feel yourself starting to get agitated, and you could tell that everyone else was close to being the same, so you removed your headset from around your neck and set it down much nicer than Bam had on the table behind you. Ville, Burton, Mige, Linde, and Gas were all still in position on the stage with their instruments in the positions that you had intricately formed so that the camera was hitting them correctly, and you heard a chorus of groans.

"How many times are we going to do a goddamn pause?" Mige complained, pulling his bass strap from over his shoulder and gently setting it up against the amp that was close to his foot. The rest of the band also began to abandon their instruments, and you let out a deep, apologetic sigh.

"You know I can't do anything about it. He's in charge." You muttered, shaking your head as you stopped in front of the stage. Ville was standing close to you, and you could see him rifling around in his pockets for the third cigarette pack that he'd already burned through half of in the six hours that you'd been working so far. You knew that your pack wasn't far behind, and you also made the decision that you were going to be spending your 30 minute break burning through the second half. "You guys are doing great, though. Patience is a virtue."

"Not one of mine." Burton muttered, which made both Gas and Linde snicker while Mige just shook his head along with him. Ville then rolled his eyes, motioning to you before looking back at everyone else.

"Be good. They’re buying your lunch." He scolded, tutting as he put a cigarette between his lips and patting down his pockets before groaning and turning to you. "Do you have a light, by chance?"

"Did you not hear the whole speech about no smoking in here? If they see it on the cameras they'll charge us another grand in cleaning fees." You said tiredly before you pulled the cigarette right out from between his lips, shaking your head and giving him a look that said 'do you listen to anything that people say to you?' At his offended look, you held the cigarette away. "I'll give you a light. Outside."

"Okay, but seriously. Only 30 minutes, guys." The product manager gave you a warning look, because you knew that she knew how suspicious it looked that you and Ville were going out on your own. Everyone obviously knew that you were broken up by now, but you knew that it was probably pretty obvious that neither of you were really completely settled in that change. So you had that going for you.

"Just send Bam out to get me when he gets back with food." You reassured. If she had to worry about anyone wasting your time, she should've been more focused on the man that was literally leaving the building. Bam had a tendency to never actually come back to do things when he was supposed to, and at this point you had given up on trying to keep a solid time schedule. "If he comes back."

"He fucking better." She muttered, half sounding as if she was warning you against it. As if you could control anything that Bam did. The best you could do was threaten to hurt him if he didn't do something you wanted, which was unfortunate when you were dealing with the masochist that Bam was. He wasn't exactly one to cooperate with anything. Ever.

You led Ville out of that godforsaken building as quickly as you could manage, because with your crew breathing down your neck and Bam acting like a toddler with behavioral issues, you were really starting to get annoyed. As the both of you walked, you were trying to distract yourself from the fact that you were alone with each other by silently trying to decide whether or not you wanted to smoke a cigarette anywhere near Ville, or just keep your distance. You settled on multitasking just as you stepped outside into the cold air.

"You know, I passed up an opportunity to go to a big shoot for this project." You complained as you handed over both his confiscated cigarette and your naked-lady lighter. Ville raised his eyebrows slightly when he got a look at the lighter, then shrugged.

"You would've still been dealing with drunk idiots. Just on a different set." It was a pretty accurate reminder, and you shrugged. There was a look in his eyes that you couldn't quite read when you did so, and you felt your stomach do a barrel roll as you looked away for a second. Stop it. Stop fucking looking at him like that. It was literally taking every ounce of strength you had in you not to fall right back into that habit. Hell, a week ago you'd still been holding him in your arms while you fell asleep at night.

"Bam wouldn't have been there." You muttered, shaking your head to yourself as you walked to where your car was parked on the curb. You had been smoking before you'd come into the building when you'd gotten there that morning, and your pack was still in the glove box.

Unfortunately for you, you had enough cigarettes to last the average person a week at least, but somehow you'd forgotten to actually bring a jacket of any kind. In the dead of winter. You didn’t exactly live in a frozen tundra, but it was still winter. And you ran cold in general.

You weighed your options. If Ville hadn't been there, you would've just sat in your car for the 30 minutes that you had to yourself, but he was there. And you didn't know if you had enough self control to be in such tight quarters with him for more than a couple of minutes. You could tell by the way his eyes were following your every move where he thought you didn't notice that there was a good chance he was going to have the same problem on the premise that you did invite him into the car.

But he still had your lighter, you were in a t-shirt, and he was in a tank-top. He usually didn't get cold, and had a habit of wearing light sweatshirts in the middle of winter, but it couldn't have been warmer than 35 degrees outside. So you took a deep breath and steadied your mind.

"You wanna sit in the car? It's freezing." You offered, trying your best to keep how nervous you were out of your tone of voice. Your consolation was that he often took up on almost whatever you offered, which meant that you probably weren’t going to have to smoke alone for once.

"Everyone told you that you would be cold." Despite his sour reminder, Ville was already walking towards the car, which was an unfortunate angle, because you were bent over in the passenger seat digging through your glove box. You scoffed.

"Yeah, but you'll excuse me if I've been feeling a little off lately." You defended yourself, finally finding your pack of cigarettes in the midst of all the junk crammed into your glove box before you stood back up and out of the passenger seat. "I'll borrow somebody else's. Eventually."

Ville made a slight face at your bringing up feeling off, because you both knew exactly why you felt a little off, before he cleared his throat.

“Sorry. I guess.” He muttered out an apology as he watched you circle around to the driver’s side of the car, standing long enough to shoot you a look before he slid into the passenger seat at the same time you pulled the driver’s side door open. You could clearly see the way he was watching you like a hawk to gauge each and every one of your reactions, but you held a front to avoid his scrutinizing stare.

“You know, I don’t think I’d be able to do my job if I didn’t get breaks of peace in between.” You said thoughtfully as you stuck your own cigarette between your lips and lit it, staring woefully through the glass of the windshield as you pictured being back behind the director’s chair with Bam in half an hour or so. Sometimes you didn’t know if you would consider it friendship or torture.

"I didn't think you were going to agree to do this." Ville spoke tightly, as if he knew exactly what tension that was going to add to the car, his words coming through billows of smoke as he exhaled.

"Bam is paying me good money." You pointed out as you blew smoke to the side so that it wasn't directly in his face, grinning sheepishly when he rolled his eyes at your reasoning. In all honesty, you had actually come very close to dipping out on this job. But you weren’t about to tell Ville that the only reason you were hanging out with him was because you were offered a pay raise and three six packs. "And how can I say no when we're like, five minutes from my place?"

"I don't know. I just...we aren't talking anymore, so I don't know." Ville finally looked back up to your eyes then, and although you weren’t looking directly at him, you could see the discomfort on his face. His tone was unkempt and he obviously didn't quite know what to say, which in a way made you feel guilty.

"We're still talking. Promise. I just need some time to let this settle. This is really hard for me." You admitted, finding his eyes with a look that begged him to bear with you. You knew everyone wanted you to be normal and just pretend like things that were happening weren't actually happening, but you just didn't have the strength.

He didn't respond, just stared at you with those soul-searing black-lined green eyes as he took a long drag off of his cig. You were basically squirming in your seat at the crushing discomfort that was clouding the car faster than the stale burn of cigarette smoke as you blew smoke into the air, and you couldn't help the way your fingers tapped against your knee over and over again. Finally, when he'd exhaled his hit and quelled a bit of clearing his throat, Ville killed the silence again.

"It feels weird to stay in a hotel when you live five minutes away." Great. It's not like he was making this any easier on you. Here was the man you were still hopelessly, painfully in love with in your car, alone with you, talking about how he missed staying at your apartment. Knowing you couldn't have him. Fucking prick.

"Bam’s staying there, so it’s not like there’s any room for you." Irritation was easier than distress, so that's exactly what you settled on, a scowl plastered on your face as you went back to staring out the windshield so that you didn’t have to look at him. You had just asked him to let you let this settle, and he was doing about the opposite.

"Don’t get pissy. That was my second home for years, Y/n." His tone was harsh, as he clearly had no problems with speaking his mind on things that you had been trying as hard as humanly possible to keep buried deep inside over these past few days, and you almost choked on the smoke you were inhaling as he leaned towards you just slightly. "Please don't shove me away."

"Ville." You couldn't tell if you were begging him to stop talking or to talk even more. The car suddenly seemed ten times smaller than it had a minute ago, and despite the fact that you had gotten inside in the first place because you were cold, you could feel yourself starting to sweat. You knew you probably looked like a deer in headlights, but your brain couldn't seem to keep up with his talking. "I'm not shoving you away. We—we said distance. We're doing distance."

"You can barely even look at me. I wish you would just look at me." He said, his eyes practically burning holes in the side of your head as he rolled down his window just enough to ash his cigarette. You didn’t give him a response, only slowly turned to face him where he had leaned even further forward, closing most of the distance between you so that there was no possible way for you to escape his intense stare. Your chest felt like it was going to cave in.

"Ville, I'm trying to control myself. Seriously. You're making it worse." You breathed out nervously, trying desperately to keep your eyes from falling down to his lips. It was such a practiced habit that it felt unnatural not to. His gaze was unwavering, and suddenly you could feel his hand on your knee.

Fuck.

"I can't be without you right now. I'm not ready." He said quietly, taking a puff of his cigarette and letting the smoke slowly float up from his nose. You tapped your fingernails anxiously against the steering wheel as your eyes shifted between his and his hand, your nails clicking softly and filling the heavy silence as you tried to wrap your brain around the situation you were currently in. You knew he was referring to a more emotional standpoint than a physical one, and you felt your chest tighten at how much you felt the same. You didn't know if hearing it out loud made it better or worse.

"If we don't start, we're never going to." You were really trying to hold on to what you'd been forced to build in your mind in order to do this specific job, but you were falling apart. Internally, and maybe externally, too. "We can't."

"Then why are you doing this job?" He questioned, clearly not falling for your bullshit. His hand hadn't moved from your knee, and it felt like it was burning right down through my skin. You opened your mouth, then closed it momentarily as you tried to figure out how to answer that question without sounding like a bad person.

"I almost quit." You hadn't really wanted him to know that, but you said it anyway, because you didn't know what else to do. You knew you were going to regret it if you went further than just sitting in the weird tension between the both of you, and you were trying to control the insatiable urge to close the minuscule gap between you.

"I'm glad you didn’t." Alright. That was it. Self-restraint was going out the window and your head was tipping forward to touch your lips to his before your brain could even compute. He looked a little surprised that he'd managed to convince you at first, but then he was quickly catching up, his hand immediately pushing further up your leg as he leaned further forward.

You haphazardly reached out to flick your cigarette out your window once you had cracked it, your free hand moving up to cup his cheek as he deepened the kiss with his hand on your upper thigh. You knew where this was going, and you were already checking to see if there was anyone around you before you spoke.

"Let's get in the back. We have like, 20 minutes." You said breathlessly as you broke apart for air, putting your hand over his on your thigh and giving him a look that told him exactly what you wanted. He nodded in agreement, letting you go so that you could fumble into getting into the cramped backseat of your car. He came back after you, landing on top of you without much grace and then pulling laughter out of both of you before you were kissing again.

This was exactly why you were supposed to be giving each other space. Shit like this.

Your legs came up around his hips as his lips began to trail down your neck, one hand pushing under your shirt as he pressed a knee between your legs. You hadn't realized how much you'd needed him until now, and you were feeling a slight sense of panic rising in the back of your brain at how much you were enjoying something you definitely shouldn't have been doing.

And then, as if some greater power was intervening on your lack of good decision making, someone was frantically knocking on the window. You felt dread run through you, because you were in a very compromising position, only to have Ville sigh and slowly get off you, giving you a pretty good idea of who was on the other side of the window.

And, low and behold, when you sat up and turned your head, you were met with the sight of Bam Margera himself standing there looking furious. He jabbed a finger at you and then down at the ground, clearly telling you to get your ass out of the car. Great. You had just made out with Ville after trying so fucking hard no to, and now Bam had been there to see it, too. Things just kept getting better and better.

You took a deep breath before shrugging at Ville and getting out of the car, a sheepish grin slowly forming on your face as you saw him glancing between Ville, who had just gotten out of the car behind you, and you.

"I'm gonna head back inside." Ville mumbled, his hand brushing across your lower back as he passed you and headed back towards the side door that would take him back inside. That left you alone with Bam.

"Are you fucking serious. You told me to keep you in check, and you just waited until I walk away for the first time to tongue him down!" He snapped as soon as Ville was out of hearing range, throwing a hand in the air in exasperation. You cringed, leaning up against the car and wiping off your mouth for good measure.

"I can't fucking help it! I don't know! He...convinced me." You couldn't really give him a better answer than that. It's not like you were actively trying to stay away from Ville, anyway. Plus, Bam had been the one who had begged you to work on this project with him in the first place knowing fully well that you were in no way over Ville.

"You were seriously gonna fuck in the back of your car in broad daylight?" Bam scoffed at the idea, the tip of the cigarette he had between his lips going bright red as he inhaled off of it. "I mean, that's committed for a guy you said you 'can totally be cool with' or whatever."

"Well, obviously I was lying." You retorted dryly, running your hands over your face and trying to clear your head. If it hadn't been at least a little awkward before, it was definitely going to be now. You had literally been minutes from fucking. That wasn't exactly great for your 'we're over each other' motto that you and Ville were both trying to play between each other. "You gotta keep me away from him. Seriously. I'm like, gonna make myself all moody and depressed if I start this shit."

"Would it help if I told you that he made a vow not to talk to you unless he had to?" That was in no way helpful, and had also clearly been a broken vow, considering Ville had actually talked to you almost more than he normally did even despite the circumstances.

"Bam. Not helping." You cut him off before he could make it somehow worse by trying to make it better, raking your fingers through your hair and silently hating yourself for ever agreeing to work with your friends. You could've been filming for real media right now if you hadn't called off specifically for this bullshit. "Just—can we please just get this done today so that I don't have to be around him anymore? This whole thing is easier to deal with when he's not 10 feet up my ass all the time."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. At least try to keep your tongue in your mouth for the rest of the day.” You could always count on Bam and his five star, incredibly helpful advice. You were always thankful that your best friend was always so worried about your well-being and the severity of your emotions.

However, his advice was advice that you weren’t going to take, and throughout the rest of your filming day, you never let your eyes off of Ville. Not that you really had to, considering you were in the middle of directing him, but you could see it in his eyes, too. He felt the same deep, gnawing need and regret that you had been trying to push down for days now.

God, he was so perfect. He was handsome, he’d been laughing with the band all day despite the stress of trying to film on a schedule, and it was just making you miss him so badly. Everything about him seemed to be infecting your mind today, and you felt as if you couldn’t take it.

You weren’t over him. You assumed it was pretty obvious to everyone else, but you weren’t quite done combating the thought in your head. And they also didn’t have to deal with what felt like your heart being ripped in half every time you forced yourself to ignore his stares from across the room.

You couldn’t have him. God, you wanted him, but you couldn’t have him, and as hard as it was, you managed to pretend for your own sake. You pretended that you didn’t need him. You pretended that you didn’t feel it when his hand would linger on you every time he passed you. You pretended, because you knew that was the only way that you were going to survive.

[mochidoie]

from die for you...

lee haechan x fem!reader wc - 4k genre - fluff, heartbreak angst, unrequited love, dorky!haechan warnings - mentions of alcohol

Dying for someone is dramatic, insanely impractical, lacking in logic. Nonetheless, Haechan would do it without any ounce of hesitation or thought. You just had to say it.

Haechan is a complete hopeless romantic. He’d do anything for love, even if it meant dying for it. You, the interest of his love, deserve every ounce of it that he could offer. He would die for you. 

You are perfect – head to toe. Your laughter rings a sweet tune in his ears. He sees it in your eyes– that spark of passion and all of your aspirations. He craves your touch like no other, it drives him absolutely insane. You are his first love.

Haechan genuinely feels a love worth dying for, all you have to do is ask. Ask him to be honest, ask him to lie for you, ask him to be everything you’ve ever wanted in life. He’ll do it all. All you have to do is say the words.

“Hyuck, are you still there?” He catches your wrist as your hand comes into his view. If only you could feel his pulse racing at this connection. Haechan had been so lost in his imaginations with you that he carelessly forgot the midterm that you two were originally studying for. 

“I’m here.” He reassures, but in a tone that says more than him being alert about the exam. You tsk at him, waving his hand from your wrist. You flip through the pages of the heavy textbook with ease. 

“You should be here.” You point at the page number at the bottom corner of the page and the title of the chapter. The sigh unknowingly escapes your lips, you’re disappointed in him for daydreaming off when you’re in the trenches with this upcoming midterm.

“You’re supposed to be the one helping me study, remember?”

“Right. Of course, I know.” Haechan tries to regain his composure.

“We’re not even on the same page.” Though he is most definitely over analyzing your words, he can’t help but feel you meant something more with that statement. 

“Now we are. Trust me, I won’t let you fail this.” His encouraging smile does make you feel slightly better. This is your first college midterm and it already feels drastically different from high school. You’re lucky to have Haechan as a study partner. He seems to grasp the material much better and faster than you ever could. It’s almost as if his brain is working double to make up for the lack of retention in your brain. 

Haechan has been your friend since sophomore year of high school. You two were more acquaintance level when it came to a friendship, mostly chatting in classes you two shared or in groups with mutuals. It wasn’t until you both realized that you were going to the same college did you two grow closer.

Haechan has always been notably smart. He was in the top 10 percent of your graduating class and set the test curves in math and science classes. His impressive intelligence earned him a full scholarship and many awards during graduation. Nonetheless, Haechan is a typical dork. His collared striped shirt is neatly tucked in, without a fail. He wears his bangs down and bluntly cut over his eyes. Natural body scent is his choice of cologne and he refuses to switch out his glasses frames for trendy ones since trends never last.

Haechan is slightly awkward around other girls or new people and he has trouble holding eye contact with anyone. In his free time, he can be found in his comfortable gaming chair and clicking furiously at his mouse, yelling into his headset when he loses a game. Or, he could be found in a library studying up a new subject that interests him. 

He shows no romantic interest in anything that breathes. The only things that excites him are numbers, books and video games, sometimes stocks. You have never seen him interact with any other girl besides you.

His best friends include Jeno, Jaemin, and Renjun. These four were practically inseparable, practically all dorky clones of one another. 

However, their dorkiness made them easy to approach. They were not intimidating, they mostly kept to themselves. All of them usually seemed disinterested in drugs, parties, alcohol and girls. If even asked if they’ve ever had a crush, they would all quiver and cringe at the thought of a romantic interest. 

Little did you know, though. Haechan gazes at you with longing eyes, endless daydreams of you swirling around his head. He bites his tongue though, holding back his dying confession. While Haechan doesn’t believe he’s the ugliest guy in the world, he lacks a lot of confidence in himself. A big reason why he doesn’t pursue anyone is because he’s afraid of rejection and solidifying his insecurities. 

He knows he’s a nerd, at least he’s self aware. Nonetheless, there isn’t anything that causes him to change. Perhaps, he has fallen too far into his own comfort to come out of it. He needs something to propel the change, yet he doesn’t know what. 

“None of this is making any sense.” A heavy sigh falls from your lips again, probably your fifth one since you two turned the page. “I’m losing it. My concentration.”

“Did you want to stop then?” You wished Haechan would just end it or make the decision on his own. “I’m good with either option.” But you can’t blame him for taking your thoughts into consideration.

“Let’s just stop. I have to get ready for a party tonight anyways.” You shut your dusty textbook and begin packing your things.

Haechan follows, “oh. What’s the occasion?” 

You laugh slightly at his innocence. “When did people in college ever need an occasion to throw a party?” Haechan frowns, but notes how you’re correct. He does believe he is one of the rare ones with a life outside of alcohol and drugs. 

“What I meant is if you’re celebrating anything in particular?” 

You try to remember why you and your housemates decided to get drunk on a random Friday night in March. It finally clicks and you almost jump out of your seat from excitement. “Julie finally broke up with her boyfriend!” 

“The one she had been dating since middle school?” Haechan inquires, genuinely surprised that your housemate gained the courage to break up with her horrible boyfriend. Despite his lack of romantic experience, Haechan can tell when relationships aren’t healthy and what bare minimum standards are.

“Yes!” Your favorite attribute about Haechan is that he remembers the details about things you say. It’s actually quite thoughtful and it is a main reason why you began looking for that attribute in other people you meet. “He is out of her life for good! We are celebrating this victory, care to join us?”

Haechan always feels bad when he declines your invitations to parties, but it really isn’t his scene and he really does not enjoy being surrounded by drunk people who can barely keep themselves standing. Nonetheless, your eyes and smile are so tempting. They remind him of the lengths he’d go for you..

“Julie finally dumped her boyfriend and now, the Lee Haechan is finally coming to one of our parties!” You squeal so happily. He could only wonder how he can keep you grinning like this forever.

He couldn’t hold back a smile himself, “okay, don’t be so dramatic. I’ve come before! Your housewarming.”

“That’s because I deliberately asked you to come with me to party prep and forced you to stay when the party began.” You rolled your eyes and swung your backpack over your shoulder. “You were halfway out the door before I dragged you back in and told you to take a shot with us.”

“Right, so my point stands. I have been to one of your parties before, whether voluntary or not.” He chuckles, really cracking himself with how you essentially proved his point with your counterargument.

You knew how to be playful with Haechan and didn’t shy away from teasing him when others have a tendency in protecting him against harm’s way. You treated him so freely.

“You just always have to be right, don’t you?” You slightly pinch the fabric of his sleeve and he jumps at the touch. You giggle to yourself, satisfied by the tiny reaction you were aiming for. “It’s BYOB, so bring something you’d drink because I won’t be surprised if drunk me makes you finish it on your own.”

Haechan gulps, “that sounds very threatening.” You’re already walking to the parking structure to your car. He watches as your fading figure disappears and makes his way back to his own.

Haechan exhales a huge sigh that had filled his lungs. His hands grip the steering wheel loosely, replaying the moments with you from earlier. He can’t stop thinking about the way you tuck your hair back during a difficult problem, or how many times you were cutely distracted by something on your phone. He could live with these memories on loop in his head and be the happiest person alive. 

Is this what being in love with someone feels like? He thinks that it has to be quite close.  Haechan can still remember the day his feelings for you began and how strong they slowly grew.

You were always around him – in his classes, friends of friends, passing by in the hallways — it was hard for him to shake these feelings. High school was honestly a blur for him because of his expectation and pressure to get into the best college and graduate with honors. 

A secret he still holds for himself is the reason behind his choice of college. Haechan never had the courage in high school to grow closer, he just never found a logical reason to do so without feeling as if he was coming off too strong. Nonetheless, the month that college acceptances came out and everyone started announcing where they planned to go, Haechan was the only one left undecided.

He was accepted into major prestigious private universities and the best of the public school system has to offer. These were colleges that classmates cried when they got rejected, dream colleges all just handed to Haechan on a silver platter. All the while, Haechan was struggling with moving on from his first love.

He knew it was dumb, actually ridiculous that he would follow a girl to college. But somewhere, somehow, some part of his mind wanted to act irrationally for once. So, when he heard your choice of college… he found it in himself to accept the full scholarship and join you. 

Now he had the opportunity to grow close. 

Everyone was baffled by the decision, clearly not knowing his reasoning behind it. He refused to tell a soul, even his best friends. While this college was still a great school, there were others that were better. But Haechan only wanted you. 

He wanted college to be something different. He can lose himself in numbers and books all he wants, but nothing completes him as much as spending time with you. No more missed opportunities to be with you.

Unlike many others who are confused with their feelings, Haechan was only ever certain about you. You were incredibly lovable, there wasn’t a single person you came across that could dislike you. Your laugh is infectious, it’s one of his favorite quirks about you. Your heart shares its space for so many others– generous, kind, considerate –you are the exact person he’d fall for.

He is so grateful to be a part of the same lifetime as you. Somewhere, somehow, you two crossed paths and he couldn’t stop thinking about you. You were a mark in his brain that he couldn’t wash off. He can’t imagine a world without you. That is how far his love for you spans. It’s unimaginably catastrophic. 

Haechan walks into your lively apartment, hands gripping the neck of two soju bottles and sweat already forming in his pits. The nervousness settles into his stomach as he maneuvers his way around warm bodies to find you. He has been to your apartment plenty of times before, so it feels much smaller when it’s full of people.

“Hey!” A firm hand lands on his shoulder. He spins around to see you grinning ear to ear and a shot of clear liquid in one hand. “You made it and you brought soju!” 

You pat his head, almost too lovingly. “I’m proud of this character development.” Giggling, you hand him the shot and hurry to pour yourself one as well. “Let’s take one together.”

“I just got here, y/n.” Haechan feels the gag in the back of his throat already. He takes a whiff of the mysterious liquid and almost chokes at the putrid stench. “Tequila.” He grumbles.

“You won’t suffer alone.” You smile and hold up your tiny glass for a toast. “Bottoms up!” You say as you throw your head back and take the alcohol like a champ. Haechan hesitates, admiring you in the darkness and rainbow lights.

He feels like he’s seen this scene before, whether in his dreams or imaginations. The way your hair falls back, the rim of the glass barely touching your lips, the wince in your facial expression, you really glow underneath it all. 

Haechan quickly catches up with the shot, knowing that a lingering stare will need explanation. The burning liquid runs down his throat and he has to hold himself back from anything coming back up.

“That is rancid.”

“It’s cheap tequila.” You laugh, already three shots in and feeling something hazy in your system. A group of individuals walk through the door and you’re quickly being pulled away to greet them. He can feel the disappointment crawling up his chest, but he knows better than to cling onto you at a social event that you’re hosting.

He looks around the room at unfamiliar faces and feels rather jealous at all the people that think they know you. They won’t ever know you how he does. That is one thing he is absolutely sure about. 

“Did you invite the others?” Your voice surprises him from his monologue. “Why’d you come alone?”

“They’re on their way. Jeno and Jaemin were held up at their biking club meeting.” Though you weren’t explicit about whether or not that invitation was extended to his best friends, he knew they were always welcomed. It came to the point where Haechan stopped inviting them around so he could spend more alone time with you. 

You nod, opening the soju he brought and pouring you both a shot. You are oddly quiet in contemplation. “You know… now that Julie is single…” the silence between the two of you feels thick in this stuffy apartment. He can’t tell where you’re going with this. “Why don’t you try giving dating a shot? She thinks you’re her type.” 

He is taken aback, clearing his throat nervously. You have never brought up romantic interests with him before. His throat closes up, not picturing that this is how the conversation would be. “How am I her type? Her boyfriend was completely different from me. He’s dumb, I’m smart.”

Haechan pushes his glasses up on his nose and waits for your explanation. He’ll be honest with himself: it did intrigue him that someone found interest in him. He has never really had that before and it has hindered his confidence. 

“She’s into that nerdy, good boy type. A guy that gets no girls so they worship the girl they end up with.” Haechan almost chokes on his spit upon hearing your explanation. You can’t be serious. He looks over at your unwavering expression and sighs, you are most definitely serious. 

“You think I’m a good boy type?” Haechan didn’t know why that part stuck out the most to him. He was fine with being a nerdy guy and he knew the worshiping was just nonsense. However, the good boy type seems a bit unwarranted. 

“Yeah, the only rule you break is probably your personal curfew. You don’t drink often, you don’t do drugs, you definitely don’t sell them either. You’re good, Haechan. A nice, good boy type that is kind.” Hearing you describe him in this way puzzles him greatly. He didn’t know you thought of him this way, not that he would ever initiate that conversation himself. 

He doesn’t say anything. For a moment, he is too shocked to even process what you just said. He isn’t sure if he should feel offended or slightly flattered that you have considered him romantically. 

You peek over at the silent boy, feeling a bit guilty at how ruthlessly shameless you were just being. You gently poke at his arm. “It’s not a bad thing… to be good.” 

He shrugs, “but Julie isn’t my type.”

Your eyes light up with wonder and curiosity, “you have a type? Since when did you ever think about a romantic interest?” 

Haechan feels sheepish, knowing that he is treading into dangerous waters the more he speaks. “I don’t know. I just know that she’s not.” 

You read his closed off demeanor and think that it’s best to not edge him on. Haechan has always been secretive or cold when it came to topics on relationships and romance. Nonetheless, you brush it off as it seems like something he doesn’t want to talk about. 

The conversation of his romantic interests does make you wonder… after all these years, was there someone out there that caused his heart to flutter the same way that math did? The thought of someone making Haechan doe-eyed and lovesick is a sweet and innocent thought. You could only wish for the best person for him.

Jeno, Jaemin and Renjun enter the scene, rather uncomfortable from the minute they step inside the apartment. “Hey….” Renjun barely mutters throughout all the noise. His hands are deep into his pockets and his shoulders are up to his ears.

These awkward, clueless boys. You run up and give Renjun a big hug, causing him to shudder and not reciprocate the gesture. “What took so long?”

“Jeno was interested in one of the bike locks our senior brought to show us.” Jaemin chimed excitedly, as if his mind was still on the impressive bike lock. “Long time no see, y/n.”

“Yeah, Haechan keeps saying you’re all too busy for me now.” You sigh. Jeno and Haechan take a quick second to exchange glances before nodding in agreement. 

“Yeah, more hands on work now.” Jeno rubs his hands happily with a cute grin. “So, how long are you going to hold Haechan captive for?” He playfully pokes at your arm. 

“Oh, not for long. You’re all free to go if you don’t feel comfortable staying. It was just nice to see you in a different setting.” Your gentle smile showed guilt in making Haechan come to your parties when they were completely pushing him out of his comfort zone. Yet, you still don’t understand the lengths he would go for you.

Before Haechan is able to say goodbye, you’re being dragged away by Julie into some dark corner. Haechan rolls his eyes annoyingly at how popular you are. “Ready to go, bud?” Jaemin asks the unmoving boy. 

“Just give me a moment, I want to say goodbye.” 

“Aw, so romantic.” Renjun snarks, bitterly and sarcastically. “Make it quick. I parked in a loading zone.” His face falls flat, meaning serious business.

Renjun, Jaemin and Jeno disappear from the party as if they never arrived. Haechan makes his way around warm bodies to find you, but the darkness hinders spotting you with a naked eye.

He spots Julie in the hallway with a facial expression of glee chatting with you. He is ready to interrupt, but the conversation catches his attention and he stops around the corner to eavesdrop, “well, what did Haechan say?”

His heart is practically in his throat. A part of him does feel slightly guilty for rejecting her, but he can’t deny the feelings he has for you. “He said you’re not his type.” You are so blunt with the statement, like there is no ounce of empathy in your voice.

“Are you just making that up?” Julie always had an edge in her tone when she spoke. 

“Why the hell would I make that up? That’s all he said.” 

“Yeah, that’s a shame. I’m sure we all know who his type actually is.” That matter of fact answer causes panic to rise in his chest. Haechan seriously needed to leave. He shouldn’t keep listening, but his feet are stuck to the ground. 

“What are you saying?” He wants to barge in now. Stop it all now. 

“You really don’t see the way he looks at you?” Julie sighs, “he would practically die for you.” 

In that very moment, Haechan feels his entire world collapse. He never wanted you to find out this way. Haechan had imagined the perfect confession – one where he could still save his ass if you rejected him.

He doesn’t know how Julie knew, but she had been the observant type. He would’ve never thought that you’d find out through her of all the people in the world. 

“He’s a good friend.” You’re in denial. Haechan could already tell from your response. 

“Yeah, he is. But he is also in love with you.” The frustration in Julie’s voice definitely indicates her envy has been festering for quite some time now. His knees go weak, losing his mind as you continue to deny her accusations. 

“Why are you being so in denial about it?” Julie retorts. “Don’t want it to be true?”

“I don’t. He is nowhere near my type at all.” You gulp. “I could never see him romantically and I don’t want to. I like how we are now.”

Haechan cannot stand to listen any more. It’s as if an iron fist smashed his heart into tiny pieces, beyond repair. While it felt unfair that you had to hear it from Julie, it felt ten times worse hearing your rejection.

Because Haechan knows. If he had been the one to confess directly to you, you would’ve sugar coated your confession. So, a mixture of emotions flood into his system. He’s rushing out of the party without a goodbye and his heart left on your living room floor. 

Dying for someone is dramatic, insanely impractical, lacking in logic. Nonetheless, Haechan would do it without any ounce of hesitation or thought. He would change the weather if it would make you happy. Haechan would adjust time if it meant he could spend more of it with you.

You just had to say it. 

He wishes he could take your rejection without a heavy heart. He had to have weighed the consequences of this outcome – he couldn’t guarantee that you’d feel the same way. He had to know that. His logical side would not let him sleep without acknowledging that possibility, as much as his heart believed you felt the same butterflies he felt.

So why can’t he stop the pain that is stabbing him in the chest? Why do tears blur his vision the more he replays your voice in his head?

He can remind himself all he wants on how your feelings are not obligated to be reciprocated. Nonetheless, this gut wrenching heartbreak has him spiraling out of control and losing himself in it all. 

He will never forgive himself for how much he loves you. You never wanted that love to begin with, yet he allowed himself to love you like you were his lifeline. Haechan will never forgive himself for being so hopeless.

He will never forgive himself for dying for you like he is now. Killing the feelings he hopes he will never feel again for you. Haechan would die for you, even if it meant that he would never feel this love for you ever again.

...to heartless: read

[light-yaers]

Take Care Chapter Eleven TEASER pt. II

as promised, just so yall know i'm alive, here's a second chapter teaser! find teaser no. 1 here!

You jumped suddenly when the door to the green room burst open. A production assistant entered, headset donned and clipboard in his hands, shoved into his chest like he’d die without it. “Roy Kent’s plus one?” he asked. 

You looked around the empty room. You were the only one in there, but the assistant hadn’t even met your eye yet. You cleared your throat and raised your hand in the air, like a schoolgirl in class. The production assistant finally met your eye, and then clicked at you abruptly. 

“You– right. Come on, you’re wanted on set,” he said. 

You wasted no time standing up and pushing past him at the door, heart in your throat. The two of you navigated the backstage corridors of the studio, until you finally emerged on the set of Soccer Saturday. The lights were bright, too bright, and exceptionally warm to stand beneath. Camera operators, gaffers and runners still milled about the set, but you blocked them out as you went to step onto the stage. 

“Can I?” you asked the production assistant from earlier. He glanced up and went to object, opening his mouth wide, but stopped as soon as a hand descended on his shoulder. 

“‘Course you can,” Roy said, peering down at the production assistant. “Isn’t that right, Jacob?”

Jacob nodded, no doubt sweating profusely as Roy hoarded himself over the skinny kid. He was definitely younger than you by a number of years, probably fresh out of university. “Y-yes, of course, Roy.” 

You looked away, not wanting to laugh so meanly at the ordeal. It was just so Roy of him to intimidate crew at the studios, probably just from standing and doing nothing. It made your chest compress painfully, as you forced yourself away from the all-encompassing nostalgia of being around him all the time before, at the Dogtrack, and seeing it in person a whole lot more. 

God, you thought you needed a fucking lobotomy with how much you still clung onto the past. It only made you feel more childish, more pathetic, with every flashback that hit your brain and made you swallow away the want to cry. 

You stepped onto the stage a bit more, and looked out towards the several cameras. They all pointed in your direction, camera one and two and three, and however many more. “Jesus fucking Christ,” you muttered, scoffing at it all as Roy joined you on stage. “This is intense.”

“I never know how to react when I realise people can see my beard in 4K,” Roy said, as a small smile curled onto his face. He peered down at you softly, his gaze flicking across your features as you looked around the set curiously. “It’s good to see you.” You turned to him and looked up, smiling at him bashfully. 

chapter eleven coming as soon as my brain switches on again and my fingers are capable of writing

[topgunruinedme]

I'M LOSING IT (FOR YOU)

Summery:

Having been giving the chance to move all the way from his hometown out to Miramar, with the chance to work under his idol in his dream position, he hasn’t hesitated. Thomas Kazansky, the Iceman, one of the most respected and most renowned sole weapon maker in the country, having the only known contract with the Navy to date, manufacturing their new age multimillion dollar aircrafts. Sure he was stuck running around the office, grabbing coffees and managing Ice’s calendar to ensure the man got home at a reasonable time, like a desk jockey. But who would want anything more? However, three years later, he hasn’t expected all of that threatened by a pretty face with emerald, green eyes. But once the press caught a whiff of something they became hound dogs, and before they knew it there was a scandal. Iceman was dating Maverick, a green-eyed menace of a man who worked with them as a contractor within the Navy, the Captain who accompanied them at events and kept their funding flowing. The only issue is Iceman being labelled as gay was not good for business, especially not with the bigoted DADT pushing clientele they hold. Issue One: Iceman wanted him to pretend to be in a relationship with the Captain. Issue Two: Mitchell was actually a smooth bastard when he wanted to be, and he might be falling for him. Issue Three: Mitchell was actually Kazansky’s husband.

“Im sorry you want me to do what?” “I want you to date Pete, until this all goes down” “Mitchell. Pete Mitchell. Your husband”  “Yes” “Cool. Cool. Cool, just making sure we’re on the same page. No, my answers No” “I’m your boss” “No you’re insane. I’m your assistant, and I don’t even like Mitchell”

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Fandom: Top Gun (Movies)

Word count: Aprox. 4K

Relationships: Tom "Iceman" Kazansky/Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Tom "Iceman" Kazansky/Pete "Maverick" Mitchell/Beau "Cyclone" Simpson, Tom "Iceman" Kazansky & Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Tom "Iceman" Kazansky & Beau "Cyclone" Simpson, Pete "Maverick" Mitchell & Beau "Cyclone" Simpson

Characters: Tom "Iceman" Kazansky, Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Beau "Cyclone" Simpson, Chester "Hammer" Cain, Darran "Copper" Wendle

Additional Tags:

Fake/Pretend Relationship, Hidden Relationship, Forbidden Love, Throuple, Mention of Don't Ask Don't Tell, Don't Ask Don't Tell, Homophobic Workspace, Old Homophobic Thinking, Inspired by Set It Up, Modern Era, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Office, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Tom "Iceman" Kazansky/Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Developing Relationship, Revealed relationship, Secrete Marriage, Secretary and Boss Action, Ice is a weapon manufacture, Mav is a Navy Contractor, Beau is a Secretary and Designer, POV Beau "Cyclone" Simpson, Beau "Cyclone" Simpson is So Done, Beau "Cyclone" Simpson is a Softie, Dom Beau "Cyclone" Simpson, Bottom Beau "Cyclone" Simpson, Protective Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Married Tom "Iceman" Kazansky/Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Pete "Maverick" Mitchell is a Little Shit, Bottom Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Tom "Iceman" Kazansky Lives, Protective Tom "Iceman" Kazansky, Gay Tom "Iceman" Kazansky, Soft Tom "Iceman" Kazansky, Top Tom "Iceman" Kazansky

Series: ← Previous Work Part 9 of (Jon Hamm) Beau “Cyclone” Simpson fics

   “Simpson!”

        Beau bit back a sigh at the call, irritation mounting as he gave the carrier an apologetic look as he hastily scribbled the last half of his signature on the e-pad. Snatching the flat package from the man’s offering hand, ignoring its fragile shipping label instruction stamped across the package with red ink once he caught the name of the sender, shoving it between his chest and the crook of his elbow. His own files pressed against it, wrist aching with the weight of the coffee tray, headset slanted forward on his ear, and he cursed lowly aware that there was only a certain amount of time before it dislodged and fell down around his neck. On his other hand his pointer and middle finger began to cramp with the weight on the metal hanger dug into the crease of his finger joint holding the pressed and ironed suit encased in a protective zipped sleeve, shoes safely polished and placed in a fabric protector attached to the hook adding to the weight, swaying behind him just over his shoulder as far as he could place it away from any possible spillage from the cups. He slipped past the crowded office into the left cut hallway that led to his ‘office’; which was realistically just a small cut out section of the hall which he was sure was once used to be for back up storage, which now held his small sad desk that was pressed up against the wall. A small, cluttered area which collected Kazansky’s mail and the endless phone calls and scheduled meetings, an eyesore for all those who passed it, as rare as it was, to enter the big, windowed view of Kazansky’s office.

        Using his hip, he pressed open the glass door to the office mainly due to the lack of available hands, tilting his head to press his headset against his shoulder to click the button on the side of his earpiece as he heard it emit a soft tring.

        “Beau Simpson, Kazansky Office. Please hold” he calmly answered falling into a practiced lull as he stepped further into the office, tolling his eyes and biting back irritation at finding Kazansky leaning over a chaotically overfilling desk of open books, scrolls, and blueprints spread over and under books with no care for risking damaging the prints, his paints, charcoals, and what he was assuming what was some sort of acrylic paint was smeared across the glass top desk. He mentally making a note to apologise to the cleaner before they got into tonight, wondering if that red velvet and truffle place was still open so he could order an apology gift for Darline the shift manager.

        He gently swung the suit around his body to hang it up, hooking it onto the rack by the door, neatly notched onto the old looking pipe that stuck out from the old brick accent wall which took after an industrial design. Once he was sure the suite was smooth and safely notched, he stepped back hand, quickly shifting his headpiece back into a stable position before firmly holding his files now removing the awkward pinch it was giving his elbow from clutching it for so long.

        “Sir” he acknowledged lightly as he stepped further into the office pointedly ignoring the man lounging in the plush lounging chair that sat on the lush, carpeted area. The darked haired man’s legs were spread, uncaring for the way that his uniform formed tightly over his thighs, lips turned downwards, brows furrowed slightly, fist pressed against his chin looking bored. The mans seamed to light up as he entered, head dipping up at the sound of his voice lips curling up in pleasure, forcing him to bit back his retort as he slid the books aside to create space and placed his files onto the desk, careful to not damage anything Ice might be working on but also not allowing the files to be re-swallowed by the mess and lost forever.  

        “Simpson” Kazansky muttered distracted as he tapped the dull side of his pencil against his jaw in thought one palm pressing against the desk, hunched over as he worked. “Did you get my dry cleaning for tonight’s gala?”

        “Steamed and hung sir, shoes are polished as well. The car will be picking you up from the office at 9, and the speaker should greet you upon arrival”. He began to quickly scan the table picking up the books that looked untouched for a while flipping them shut and began to stack them in a pile creating some space that he knew was pointless because it would only be swallowed again once he left. “Don’t forget you have a lunch in Manhattan with Cortell at 12, the car will arrive in the lobby at 11:20. Then you have two hours of sketching time before you have blook meetings with the committee”.

        He had hardly finished his mental recalling of his boss’s calendar when a hand cut through his vision snatching one of the coffee cups, pointedly the one black dot on the lid, from his tray causing him to scowl. He glanced up and glared at Mitchell who calmly grinned at him from his new position leaning back against the table, sipping from the brim staring straight at him, baiting him.

        “Actually” he drawled, “That was mine”.

        “No bed side manors for the guests Cy?” Mitchells lips tipped into fond a fond smile.

        His teeth grated at that horrible nickname; the man hadn’t flattered since he first met him. Giving people callsigns is his thing, Tom had explained to him once when he first joined the company, clearly over trying to argue the calling card of Iceman, once the name flowed through the correct Navy channels it seemed people were much more willing to work with Kazansky, so he had left it at that. Don’t ask what you don’t want to know, his grandmother had told him once. Especially when apple pie was involved.

        “Not to uninvited guest, not particularly no”.

        Kazansky reached out blindly, snapping his fingers insistently causing his eye to twitch in indignation as he silently passed the man the remaining warm coffee, leaving his hand empty other then the tray which he untucked from its folds, flattening it and placed the dismantling tray into the bin, taking a moment to try and regain his composure.

        “And here I thought you loved me Cy” Mitchell chuckled lightly.

        “Only the amount of money you make the company sir,” he bit back, releasing a silent shuttered breath, turning towards them with a customer service smile, patient but deadly.

        Mitchell smirked lazily kicking his leg out his hip pressed against the glass looking lazily at ease in such an awkward position. “Well, you know how sort after and irreplaceable I am”

        He hummed “I didn’t realise the Navy had a special place in their hearts for recruiting garden nomes”.

        Mitchel’s expression tightened, smile turned sharp, “Don’t get cute with me boy”.

        “Cute, you must be mistaken, I’m nothing but polite and efficient” he calmly stepped closer reaching out around the man towards the side table and extending a bowl of butter drops Kazansky liked keeping by his desk for when he was thinking, “Candy drop?”

        The man scoffed roughly rolling his eyes so aggressively he hoped they would fall out of his skull and cause his to drop dead- placing the drink down on the table grumbling as he bitched “Who gets soy milk in their coffee anyway?”

        “People who have an intolerance to lactose. Now if I had known you would be here, if you have scheduled an appointment, I would have gotten you a coffee in your order”.

        Mitchell tisked dismissively, “Isn’t it your job to keep track of Tom’s schedule?”

        “If you actually scheduled, then yes”.

        The man eyes flickered to the documents on the desk eyes catching the red ink, grimacing as he took another sip. “You know when I send mail labeled fragile, I intend you to be fragile with them Cy”.

        “Nothing you ever send is fragile Mitchell, and if it was important, you would have hand delivered it” he informed him well aware of the man’s habits having them drilled into him for the last three years and counting.

        “Don’t be dumb Cy, if it was that important you wouldn’t even know about it” Mav smirk was sharp, taunting him.

        Before he could reply a low thrumming filled the room sounding more like something was dying, calling out in agony.

        “Simpson, the computers beeping again” Kazansky muttered waving his hand in a general direction to his left.

        That…was a computer?

        Frowning he stepped away from Mitchell and addressed the desk before him, flipped over books, carefully closing them and stacking them into tower, rolling up scrolls before finding the said object buried under an avalanche of notes, only to sighs heavily.

       “It’s beeping because it’s overheating again. Sir, you need to close the tabs you’re not using, or you’ll overload the system-” he reminded him for the umpteenth time.

        “They’re all important to my work-” Kazansky glanced up eyes narrowing on him as if threatening to close his…109 tabs… was life threatening. Why the hell does he work for this man again? Ah right, despite the shit hours, endless workdays and wanting to quit at least 27 times an hour, it was great experience on his record, and it came with good pay for someone in his position. Enough to have a decent apartment, care for his cat Phranch, and small French bulldog Pez, his endless succulents and the climbing plants that were taking over his bathroom and fire escape. It allowed him to wear decent business wear to work, his dress shoes, ironed business trousers neatly tucked into his white button up which was rolled up to his elbow with a brown belt to tie it together. Kazansky never specifically said he needed to dress to impress but considering he always walked around in a suit it was heavily implied, and it wasn’t like he could wear his sweater wear around here in his position, he’d get trampled on.

        “I know sir, but the more the computer overheats the quicker it will die”.

        “That’s idiotic,” he heard the man mutter attention stolen by a stray line, that he leaned over the table, bitting the tip of his tongue caught between his teeth in concentration as he gently adjusted the line of the frame to the canopy of the newest F-22’s.

        Deciding that it was a lost cause attempting to argue with the man who clearly didn’t quite grasp technology the same as the other bothersome man in the room, he picked up the laptop rescuing it from its doom sliding it under his arm resisting the urge to flitch as the hot object pressed against his skin just below his rolled sleeve. There was no point trying to fix the problem here, he would need to bring it back to his desk and cross refence the tabs with Kazansky’s open projects before actually deleting anything. Why the man couldn’t simply use the desktop on his desk was beyond him, let alone the tablet he ended up retrieving every so often when the man’s carelessness fried something, no doubt at the bottom of the draw of his neck, he’d have to charge it up, it was just as frustrating to care for but thankfully Kazansky had a better understanding of it, even if it was only the sketching app. Ironically the man had no issues working a phone, he just simply chose to ignore calls.

        Ignoring the way the laptop pinched at the hair on his arm he took the time to order the files he placed on the desk, placing the more time pressing on the top of the pile and the people he personally thought deserved to wait longer just purely from being dicks on him on the phone on the bottom, idly listening to Kazansky quietly mutter to Mitchell about the design for the sleek airframe, as he tugged a pen from his pocket and placed it on top. A 0.5 needle point, sleek but precise, something he knew Kazansky would want, the man was cold and cutting, and he displayed those exact traits in his mannerisms and signatures. He knew that Kazansky would get to them eventually, the man always did a scan of the desk after lunch taking the time to check over the files and [placing aside the work he completed before sinking into his creativity zone. The files where always signed at the end of the day so he didn’t particularly care how long it took or what exactly the man’s process was.

        He twisted, fingers tightening around the laptop as Mitchells eyes jumped up from the table where Kazansky was running his pen over a mechanics of the inner engine and those green eyes softened watching him even with those tugged tight smiles he always got when he knew the man was tired and stressed. He ignored him, even when he waited anxiously with a bated breath, uncomfortableness itching at his chest, as Mitchell let the tense moment drag in silence instead of butting in and trying to get him, to rise for his bait as he usually did in moments like these. Always gleeful to steal a moment or two to send him off out of the office in a foul mood ensuring he wouldn’t bother them for a few hours, always dragging it out as long as he possibly could before forcing himself to face the man again trying to hide the way his fists curled, or the tenseness in his gaze as it scanned over the man as if he wasn’t even there. Much to Mitchell’s endless amusement.  

        He turned his attention to his boss, trying to bite back his irritation when the man didn’t even bother to acknowledge him. Only a few more years. Only a few more years, he reminded himself. Then I can have enough experience under my name to work my own firm, to get a better job where it's my designs that are being followed instead of running coffee orders like I was Kristien fucking Stewart.

        “Do you need anything sir? Or am I to return to my desk?”

        “No”. The blond waved him off dismissively, “Push back my meetings for an hour, I don’t want to be disturbed”.

        His eye twitched, hand shifting ever so slightly behind his back, view obscured, as his fingers curled into a fist. Placing a painfully fake smile on as he nodded empathetically “Of course sir”.

        Did he not just tell the man he had an appointment? An important one. Like hell he was pushing that back, the man could work in his designated sketching time. Did he know how much time he spend negotiating with this firm? How many people he had tried to be calm with as they cursed him out? How many hours of overtime he had put in to just keep up with the work load this meeting created to begin with. NDA’s, contacts, security details.

        Did he know how long this took to set up?

        “That means you too Mitchell” Kazansky’s unimpressed drone cut through his anger with a sharp flash of gratification at the disgruntled and offended look the other man wore. Mitchell immediately moved forward towards Kazansky who didn’t even bother to glance him with a look, a noise of protest already bubbling from his throat when the moment was interrupted by his headset beeping with an withholding call, reminding him that he still had someone on hold.

        Pushing back the urge to groan knowing fully well he was in for a tongue lashing due to the wait, he smiled, clicking the side button reconnecting the call. Moving towards the doorway towards his desk as he put his all, whatever will to live that was left at 9:30 in the morning, into an energetic bubbly voice that was expected of him for his position. “Thank you so much for holding. How may I-” his sentence was cut short, tongue catching behind his teeth in alarm jaw clenching, as his strid stalled in the centre of the room, “Mhh. I understand”.

        To his left, Kazansky finally glanced up brows furrowed half in annoyance and the other in intrigue. “Simpson?”

        “Cy?” Mitchell stepped forward towards him as if it would help the distress flooding through him, those green eyes searching him for some sort of unnamed response.

        His smile felt strained as he silently walked towards the door pausing, releasing the pressure bar holding the doors open and flicking the lock shut. He then stepped back towards them, closing the distance hastily with three long strides placing the computer on the computer on the files, ignoring the way the computer whined in complaint when he opened a new tab. Lips pressed as he hummed in agreement again, along with the man on the phone who ratted off in a confused half panic. “Don’t worry Marty, I'll handle it, yes, goodbye” he reached up numbly clicking the button as the call finished staring up at the two men.

        He clicked on the newest post on the webpage and glanced up at the two men offering them a grim look as he twisted the computer around to reveal the page. “We have a problem”.

        There sitting on the screen, loud and proud, was an image of Kazansky, stone faced in his usual business attire hands folded behind his back. Mitchell beside him, looking slightly more human, one hand in his pocket, the other fiddling with his lapel, although the man’s head was tilted slightly towards Kazansky’s, the angle of the photo making it look deceptively like they were speaking to each other quietly. Secretive. Intimate. And above it all, in capitals with colours flying across the screen labelled:

KAZANSKY Co., OWNER OFFICIALLY LEAVES HIS COCKPIT, ONLY TO ENTER ANOTHER: THE GAY STORY OF A CENTURY!         Thomas Kazansky one of the youngest CEO in Marmari, who had not only managed to double his worth in five years but to successfully secure the one deal that had everyone at war. A naval contract.          Only now it leads to a more interesting story. After all it’s not everyday you hear for the rich falling for the commoner. Thomas Kazansky or affectionately called Iceman by his colleague Captain Pete “Maverick” Mitchell, was recently appointed the soul contract for a classified military intelligence service, important enough that he was given a Captain to work with. A Captain, who’s has been spotted on several occasions leaving his personal building, and office at odd hours. A naval officer who is comfortable enough to stand so close to the Iceman, a man who it turns out, may not simply be a man. But rather, a boyfriend.          It will be a surprise to everyone here when I inform you with utmost glee that Thomas Kazansky is gay! Confirmed face to face by a trusted anonymous source of mine. Not only is he gay, but the suggestion of the image above sealed my suspicion, Iceman is dating Maverick! Well, I guess we all know who’s who in the relationship…Click here to read further… View count: 2,408 Comments: 1,002 Reposts: 456 Posted 8 minutes ago, 27th September, 2022.

        “What the fuck is that”. Mitchell was starting at it, had been staring at it for a good few minutes as if reading it, and rereading it again, as if that would change the words on the page.

        “A scandal” he offered.

        “An anonymous source?” Mitchell sounded scandalised, furious, as if this was his own reputation literally falling to the ground around him. The Man snarled shoving off the desk forcing himself into a pace with a sharp calming breath which seemed to be failing as the pent-up man reached out towards the desk as if to throw something only to stop himself mid motion. “Who’s going to believe this shit?

        He glanced at the scene tiredly in growing temptation, mentally wincing at the views listed there, “Around two, three thousand as of right now” and growing.

        “Three thousand?!” Mitchell stared at him, “How the hell do that many people have spare time to read the news during work hours”

        “You always mange to find time to bother me at work during work hours” Kazansky muttered, he had relocated, numbly moving away from his desk barley missing spilling his dirty paint water onto his work in his haste to collapse into the plush chair Mitchell had abandoned earlier. His elbows on his knees, hands pressed together, fingers pressing against his lips in contemplation, tying to find a way out of…this.

        “You need to do damage control” he said quietly, “We need to put a statement out, debunk it all. The longer we wait the harder it will be to contain. But we don’t want to do it too soon, or they’ll think we’re trying to hide something”.

        “Meaning hell take damage either way” Mitchell sounded deflated, defeated, dropping back into the plush chair across from Kazansky with a weary groan, “Shit Kay-”

        “I know” Kazansky mused, “I know”.

        “What the hell are we going to do?” Mithcell scrubbed his face, “You know Cain and Wendle won’t tolerate colours around your name, even if it’s only a rumour-”

        “They’ll bounce” he offered, “Unless they were convince otherwise, and we offer them something more important than their own pride”.

        “What would possibly be more important?” Mitchell snapped.

        He worried his lip, “Darkstar” he broached carefully.

        Kazansky head snapped to him, “What?” he asked tensely.

        Mitchell had gone pale, still.

        “Where did you hear about that?” Kazansky demanded, “That’s confidential. They require Naval credentials to access”.

        “Cains sends emails, I read emails. It’s not hard to put together sir. He’s been emailing for a few months about it, trying to bring it back into motion, apparently it was shelfed back in 1986 after a pilot died during testing-”

        “Nick Bradshaw” Mitchell bit out sounding far more breathless than he should, “His name was Nick”.

        Shit.

        They knew him.

        He hated when he stepped into unventured land. It was an unmarked minefield waiting to blow. “He’s been trying to push the initiative” he continued quietly, “Apparently with your approval he can override the board of director votes and put it into motion. If we give him that, then…he won’t be thinking about anything the news prints out. Other than how much money he’s going to make”.

        “And Wendle?” Kazansky asked quietly, head bowed somewhat terrifyingly similar to one praying in purgatory, his own time spend on his knees in the small purgatory momentarily flashed behind his eyelids, the total sense of helplessness and weighted lack of navigation.

        “Well sir, let’s just say I have enough collected on him from his drunken loose tongue at the last event to hold him off for a while, until we can pin him with those dirty under the table deals, he’s been doing with Russia”.

        “He’s dealing to Russia?” Mithell muttered, “That’s the worst country to try and blackmail”.

        “No one said he was smart, and no one said he was the one trading. We just need to make it believable”.

        “You can’t get rid of a scandal” Kazansky glanced up with a solemn acceptance, nodding his head slowly in acknowledgment, “You can only make a bigger one”.

[margbarcisforever]

the Gamer of the future will have enlarged eyes to better appreciate 4K resolution and ray tracing on their Gaming Rig, ears evolved to fit perfectly within a Gaming Headset, and elongated fingers for more Powerful Gaming. their teeth will be adapted to quickly crunch through Gamer Snacks, and their bones will be unbreakable. and their muscles will never tire

[arcadiaa-writes]

16.06.2024

Disclaimer…this is old… like 6 years old. Found it on my hard drive and thought I’d dump it here. For some reason, I wrote this is in Male POV 🤷🏻‍♀️

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It was Friday night, which meant only one thing in this apartment: Battlefield night.

Battlefield Night was started by my buddies from out of town, and then when my flatmate moved in, she started playing too, and the whole place was flooded with sounds of gunshots and grenades going off. Having a 4K TV made the whole experience feel almost real.

There was only one issue, and that issue was Penny, most specifically Penny’s mouth.

Now I never had anything against girl gamers, each to their own, and all that, but this girl, goddammit

She looked like the most innocent, well-behaved girl you would ever meet; she even had those big old doe eyes that drove guys insane, me included, but on a Friday night, she was somebody else. To put it nicely, she was a bit of a sore loser and not a great shot, and she tended to pick a new phrase for a month that she would yell so loudly down her mic, and her new favorite was driving me insane, and I had vowed the next time she said it, I would be doing something about it.

We were in the middle of the ambush; the other team surrounded our players, and it was going to be a fight to the end. This wasn’t something new, and the team strategy was working like a charm, until there was one single short sight, and down my character went. Headshot. A slow-motion cut scene played on the TV as I groaned in defeat.

“Just my luck,” I chuckled into the microphone of my headset as the lads ripped into me for making such a rookie mistake.

“Yeah, yeah,” I mumbled, laughing at myself with them and watching how the rest of the match was playing out.

"Penny, move! Move!” I yelled as I saw another player creep up behind her—too late. Down she went, the team rapidly dropping like flies.

“Fuck me,” she hissed, and my skin prickled to goosebumps. I was done for. Without even thinking, I pulled off my headset, left my bedroom, and crossed the hallway.

I threw open her bedroom door, and with no appreciation for her privacy, she leapt up from her bed, startled.

“What the fuck, Morgan?!” She yelled at me, controller in one hand, headset in the other.

I just glared at her; my nostrils flared, and my breathing was heavy. Was I really going to do this?

“You,” I exhaled the word, as if I were in pain. Well,  I mean, the raging bone that was straining against my jeans was causing a lot of pain, so technically I was.

“What did I do?” She asked, her face giving me genuine confusion, her doe eyes glazed over like glass.

I took a step, more like a stride, towards her, closing the distance. I didn’t even think about the consequences of my actions as I yanked her body against mine, my hands on the small of her back, gripping the fabric of her t-shirt, and lowered my head to her ear.

“There are only so many times a guy can hear the words, Fuck Me, before actually acting on it,” I whispered, and she gasped in my arms as I took her earlobe in between my teeth and nibbled playfully. My name rolled out of her mouth so beautifully, as I heard two gentle thuds as the controller and headset fell to the floor.

She pushed me away from her, and I took a step back from her, my hands in the air, in surrender.

“I’m Sor…”

My apology was cut short by her grabbing my face and staring me straight in the eye, her deep brown eyes completely dilated, her cheeks flushed.

“Took you long enough.” She smirked as she kissed me passionately.

The sly little minx had planned this all along.

The kiss was pure ecstasy, our teeth clashing and our tongues fighting for dominance as I lifted her into my arms and carried her to her bed. We undressed each other so quickly, like it was a primal need for each other.

“Jesus Fucking Christ,” I said, looking down at the beautiful being that was currently lying underneath me and watching as she blushed.

I didn’t even give her a chance to hide from me. As I drove between her thighs, lapping up her juices, she was dripping and tasted so sweet. Her hands quickly found my hair as she bucked against my face; her moans were pure delight to my ears; and the scream as I slipped two fingers inside her was something entirely different. She rode my face harder as she approached her climax; my fingers made fast work on her G spot, rubbing in circles, and my tongue caressed her clitoral area. Her thighs clamped around my head, and her whole body vibrated as she found her release. I continued my assault as she rode out her orgasm.

I stroked the back of her thighs and released myself from them, kissing up her body. I desperately wanted to suck her nipples and nuzzle her boobs, but she was still vibrating from the aftershock of her orgasm. I gave her a tender kiss, careful not to overstimulate her.

“That…that…how?” She rambled, causing me to smirk and press my finger against her lips.

“Shhhh, Sleep,” I kissed her forehead and rolled onto my side, fully intending on letting her sleep until she sat bolt up right.

“No,” She glared at me and said, “I said Fuck Me, and while that was incredible, it wasn’t Fuck Me, was it?”

I didn’t even think; she just knew how to push my buttons. My hand flew to her throat in a tight grip and pulled her to me. I could feel her heartbeat on my fingertips, and her breath hitched as I exhaled in her face. I didn’t even have to say anything, but she straddled me and aligned her entrance perfectly with the head of my dick.

With my free hand, I gripped her hip, slamming her down as I pushed my hips up. She clawed at my chest as she rode me hard, trying to have control of the situation, but my hips were hitting too fast, her pussycat was like a vice grip, and I wasn’t going to last much longer.

“This is not a one-time thing,” I growled in her ear as I struggled to maintain my composure. She nodded frantically as her next orgasm soon approached. “You are fucking mine, and I will fuck you every which way you want me to.” She didn’t stop nodding, and I pulled her face to mine and bit her lip before kissing her as my hips bucked hard against her and my arms wrapped tight around her body. She pressed her forehead against mine as she orgasmed, the grip so tight.

“Fuck, Penny, I need...”

“I’m yours, Morgan,” she whispered in my ear, and I lost it. I jackhammered into her hard, making her scream, until I came undone inside her. She made the cutest mews as I rolled her onto the bed, her leg anchored over my hip. Our breathing was in unison as I held her close to my chest. I pressed my lips against her forehead as I noticed the TV was still flickering with images of the lobby and the mic icon flickering in the corner of the screen.

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